#this is deeply emotional and embarrassing but hey that's once upon a time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshapedkookie · 4 years

Text

Falling

↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

REPOSTED/REWRITTEN FROM OLD BLOG

pairing: jungkook x female reader

word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)

genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy

recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings

FALL

The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.

“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.

You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.

“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.

“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.

Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.

You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?

Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.

“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.

You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.

“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.

“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”

“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.

“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.

“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.

“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.

“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.

You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.

Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.

“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.

“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”

“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.

“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.

“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”

He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”

You shake your head, “No thank god.”

“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”

Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.

You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.

“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.

The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.

“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.

“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.

“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“

“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.

“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”

“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.

“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.

“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”

“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”

The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.

“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”

“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.

“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.

The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.

“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.

“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.

“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.

“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.

Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”

You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”

“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.

Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.

Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.

“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.

Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”

You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.

You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?

“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.

“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.

You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.

“I get it,” you respond.

“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”

You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.

Definitely sexist.

The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.

If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.

“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.

“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”

“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.

You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”

He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.

“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”

He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”

You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.

“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”

Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.

“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—

“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.

You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.

“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”

Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”

You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?

“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.

“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”

You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.

“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.

“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”

“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.

“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”

You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?

“See you in class.”

. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.

You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.

“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.

“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.

“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.

Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.

“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.

“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.

Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.

“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.

“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.

“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.

“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”

He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”

“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.

“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.

“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.

“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”

“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.

“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.

“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.

“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.

You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.

“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”

As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”

“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.

“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“

“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.

“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.

“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”

He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.

“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.

“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.

“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.

“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.

“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”

“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.

“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.

Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.

“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.

“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.

“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”

It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”

You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.

“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”

He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.

Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.

You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.

“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.

You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.

“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.

You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—

“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”

Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“

“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.

“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.

Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”

“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?

“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?

“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”

Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.

“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.

“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”

You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”

“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.

“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.

“So who are you here with?” You ask him.

“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.

“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.

“Why’s that?” He amuses.

“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”

He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.

“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.

“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.

“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.

He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”

“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”

“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.

“What have you captured tonight then?”

“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.

“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.

“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.

“See, a treasure,” you say.

He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”

You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.

“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.

He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.

“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.

“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”

His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.

“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”

A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.

You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.

You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.

You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?

You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.

Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.

You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.

“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.

“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.

“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”

You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.

“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”

You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.

He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.

“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.

“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.

“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.

His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”

You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.

“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.

“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.

“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.

You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.

“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.

“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.

You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.

“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.

His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.

You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed. You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.

Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.

“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.

“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.

“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”

You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”

“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.

He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.

His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.

You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.

“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.

He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.

“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.

Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.

You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.

“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.

Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.

“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”

You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.

He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.

He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.

“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.

“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”

“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.

Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.

“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.

Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.

You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.

“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.

“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.

“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.

“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.

He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”

You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”

“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”

He smirks, “Deal.”

You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.

“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.

“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”

You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.

Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”

“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.

“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.

Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.

“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.

“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.

You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.

“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.

You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.

“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.

“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.

“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”

Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—

“Y/N and I hooked up.”

Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.

“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.

Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.

“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”

You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”

“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.

Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?

“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.

Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.

“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.

“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”

It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.

“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.

“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”

Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.

“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.

“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.

“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“

“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”

With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.

Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.

You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.

It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.

Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.

You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.

“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.

You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.

“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”

Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.

“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.

“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.

“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”

“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.

“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.

“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”

“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”

“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”

“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.

“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.

“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.

“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.

“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.

“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.

Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?

“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”

“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.

“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.

“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.

It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.

Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.

Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.

“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.

Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”

Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”

Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”

Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”

Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”

“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”

“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.

“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.

“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.

You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.

“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.

“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.

“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.

“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”

“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”

You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.

“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.

“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.

“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”

“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.

A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.

Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.

“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.

“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”

“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.

“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.

Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?

You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.

“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”

“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?

Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.

“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.

“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?

“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”

You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.

“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.

He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”

“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”

Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”

“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.

“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”

Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”

November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.

“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.

“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.

Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”

You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.

“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.

“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.

He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”

“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”

“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”

“I wouldn’t expect him too.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”

He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.

You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?

“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.

“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.

“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.

“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.

“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.

You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.

“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”

Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.

“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”

He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”

“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”

Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.

“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”

You snort, “Right.”

“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”

“Yeah… and then what?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.

“Are you worried about that?”

Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.

He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.

You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.

“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.

“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”

You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.

Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.

Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.

“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.

“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.

“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?

“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.

“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.

You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“

“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.

“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall. He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”

Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.

“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”

“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.

“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.

“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.

“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.

He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“

“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”

“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”

You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.

“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.

He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”

The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.

“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.

“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.

“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.

Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“

He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”

You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.

“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.

“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.

“Do your parents know about us?”

“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”

“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.

“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.

“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”

You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.

“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.

WINTER

“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”

Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.

“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”

Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?

“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”

“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”

He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.

“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”

“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.

“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.

You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.

Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.

“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.

You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.

“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”

You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.

“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.

He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”

“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.

“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.

“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.

“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.

“You’ve been?”

“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.

The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.

“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”

He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.

“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.

“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”

“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”

“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”

“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.

“I love you too.”

The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.

“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.

Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.

“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.

“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.

“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”

“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.

“Shoot babe,” he says.

“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.

“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.

As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.

“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”

You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”

He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.

You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”

God you two were disgusting.

He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.

“I love you,” you smile at him.

“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”

“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”

A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.

You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—

Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.

Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.

I love you.

Jungkook

“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”

“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.

“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”

“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”

“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.

“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.

“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”

You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”

“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.

You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.

“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”

Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.

“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.

“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.

“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.

He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”

Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.

“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .

“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.

He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”

“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.

He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”

“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.

“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.

“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.

“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.

“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.

“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.

“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“

“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.

You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.

“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.

“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.

“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”

You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”

The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.

It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.

“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.

Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.

“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”

“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.

You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.

You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.

“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.

“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”

Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.

“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.

He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”

“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.

“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?

“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”

“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.

You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.

Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.

“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.

“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.

You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.

“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.

You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”

“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”

Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.

“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.

Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”

Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.

. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.

[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.

You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.

[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥

[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥

The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.

He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.

“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.

After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.

JUNGKOOK

Christmas Eve—Busan

Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.

“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.

It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.

Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.

“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.

“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”

“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.

Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.

“I know, he’s just a baby,” he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.

Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.

Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.

“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”

He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.

“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.

“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.

“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.

“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.

The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.

“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”

The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.

“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.

“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”

“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.

“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”

“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”

He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.

“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.

“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do good for themselves and their partners, I’m sure of it.”

The mention of the word partner gets Jungkook’s mother’s attention.

“Oh yes, Junghyun and Yeri have recently leased a house in Seoul,” she smiles proudly at her eldest. It was true—Junghyun was a practicing lawyer and Yeri was a court reporter so they were doing pretty well off even though they haven’t reached 30 yet.

“If only they could hurry up and get married,” she then adds with a laugh. Junghyun looks over and he grimaces, though no ill intent by the stare.

“Mom, we’ve told you. We’re settling our house and finances for another year or so, then we are,” he responds swiftly.

“Well, then it seems like Jungkook is due next,” Mr. Kim adds into the mix. Suddenly, Jungkook tenses up and his face falls. Oh how he wish you were here right now so he wasn’t alone in this.

“Well Jungkook does have a partner, right?” His mom looks over at him. Jungkook had mentioned you to his mom and dad but that was it—so this is news for Junghyun and Yeri who were carefully listening to his words. Jungkook was 22 after all—the clock was ticking.

“Yes mom,” he nods, “I invited her to Busan with me for the holidays but she decided to stay back home,” he explains.

“Ah, that’s too bad, we would have loved to meet her,” Mr. Kim says, “Next time though?’

Jungkook nods, a small smile present, “Next time.”

The conversation thankfully dies after that. As much as Jungkook wanted to talk about you—he was so hesitant for well, obvious reasons. His mom had the most questions about you and he answered all of them to her liking. She seemed to think their souls were bonded and wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? He wanted his mom to love you like he did and he was confident she would by the way her eyes lit up when he spoke about you.

“She seems lovely Jungkook,” she says, “And you just met her this year? After all this time?”

After all this time—yeah right. “Yeah, we had a class together.”

“Well I for one cannot wait to meet her,” she smiles taking a sip of her wine, “You should invite her again when you two graduate, you know we have to have a party to celebrate.”

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry but he nods quickly, just wanting to focus on the dessert that was being place in front of him.

“She would love that,” is all he says before he digs into his cheesecake. After a few glasses of wine, Jungkook had felt himself become a little tipsy and he knew he needed to slow down if he wanted to enjoy Christmas morning.

After he finishes his sweet treat, he excuses himself to get some water. As much as he hates these kinds of things, he wishes he had his camera to capture some memories—even though it was his first Christmas with you despite being separated by hundreds of kilometers.

He reaches the beverage table, quickly asking for a glass of water when suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” A girls voice asks, “Would you mind getting me a glass of Chardonnay?”

He glances at the girl before nodding, asking for a glass to hand to her. The server hands Jungkook a wine glass and he turns around to see the girl for the first time. He’s slightly taken aback from her beauty. She’s got warm brown hair that flows down her chest, welcoming eyes, and a smile that he swears sparkled in the light.

“Thank you,” her eyes met his and he feels his chest tightening the longer he looks at her. As much as he wants to look away—he physically is unable. She seems to feel the same because he doesn’t know how much time has passed of them staring at each other before someone calls out to her.

She glances to her right, raising her glass as another thanks before walking away from Jungkook. His eyes follow her as her back turns to him. She’s wearing a simple purple dress with sleeves and heels that make her legs look long and lean.

He shakes his head out of his trance-like state, what the fuck? He takes another gulp of his water—it has to be alcohol getting to him. He’s about to head back to his parent’s table when he suddenly feels an itching on the inside of his left wrist. He scratches his skin harshly and he winces when it’s more painful than a normal scratch.

He glances down at his sleeve, pulling the material back to see what was so painful. He does a double take when he moves his watch, noticing harsh red lines forming on skin. The fuck, he thinks to himself. Jungkook makes the decision to excuse himself to the men’s room to cool the burning off with some water.

Thankfully he’s the only person occupying the room and he quickly turns on the water, running his skin underneath it. The burning subsides after a few moments and as he’s reaching for a towel to dry himself, he drops it to the floor before he can even use it.

While the red marks have gone away, a thin black line has replaced them.

Rose.

He blinks heavily, shaking his head. Is he really that drunk? He takes his nail to scratch at the black and when it doesn’t move, his mouth parts and the tie around his neck feels even more constricting.

“No,” he whispers to himself.

Rose.

It’s still there.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles, “Fuck,” his breathing picks up heavily and he looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are blown out. Fuck.

Rose.

He moves his watch back over the marking and runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends harder than he should. He almost feels tears threatening to fall when he realizes what’s happening. This has to be a sick joke? The universe cannot be doing this—not right now—not after all this fucking time?

As much as his mind is racing, drunk and confusion do not make a good combination, he sees one thing for sure in the back of his brain. You. As this thought, his stomach churns deeply and before he realizes it—he’s spitting up some of his food and alcohol into the toilet.

“Fuck,” he says again wiping the perspiration away from his clammy hands onto his pants. He takes in a deep breath, freshening himself up before he leaves the bathroom with the mission to find one person and one person only.

Once he comes back into the main room, his eyes glance around quickly for a head of silky brown hair and a purple dress. His head looks around rapidly and anyone who saw him probably thought that he looked crazy. He spots Junghyun and Yeri getting another drink at the bar and he swiftly walks over towards them.

“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks quickly, shaking his brother’s shoulder.

“Huh? Jungkook, you okay?” His brother notices how ill Jungkook looks. Face pale, hair messily pushed around, uneasiness in his large eyes.

“Have you seen a girl,” he pauses trying to slow down, “Purple dress, kind of ashy brown hair to here,” he demonstrates the length with his hands. Junghyun looks at Jungkook like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe Jungkook is going crazy.

Junghyun shakes his head, “No I haven’t. What’s up?”

“I may have seen a purple dress going that way,” Yeri points her finger towards the other side of the large room. “Jungkook are you sure you’re okay?”

He doesn’t even give them one more glance before he thanks Yeri quickly, turning on his heels to head that direction. He nearly trips on his feet trying to get across the masses of people congregating. The ballroom has a couple hallways that lead off into other rooms and he decides his luck, checking in and out of the rooms. He’s coming up empty until he stops dead in his tracks, a back clad in purple facing him, talking to another man with blonde hair.

Suddenly, the blonde looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder and she follows. Her eyes meet Jungkook’s and he fills his breath hitching, his stomaching rolling once again.

“Hello?” The blonde asks curiously.

“Hi,” Jungkook steps forward. His hands are buried deep in his dress pants so they can’t see the way they shake with every breath.

“Yoongi, will you get me another drink please?” The girl speaks looking back at the man. He nods, settling not to say anything else as he brushes past Jungkook.

The girl stands awkwardly, her finger rimming an empty wine glass slowly. Jungkook can barely look at her but something is compelling him to. He can’t take his eyes off of her—she’s beautiful. He slowly walks towards her with some hesitation. She finally meets his eyes again and she visibly breathes in deep through her nose, her chest rising.

“Hi,” Jungkook says again.

“Hi,” she says with a low tone. She bites her lip nervously and she suddenly looks around the room—anywhere but him. “This place is really beautiful isn’t it?”

Jungkook follows her lead, eyes glancing around the room too, “Yeah, it is.”

“Your parents know how to put on a party,” she muses with a small laugh. Goddamn, he thinks, she is so beautiful. So, she knows exactly who he is.

“This is nothing compared to some other years,” he gently smiles when her lips turn up, her cheeks getting bigger with her own smile.

A silence falls between the two of them. She sways in her heels trying to relieve the pain in the balls of her feet.

“It’s you isn’t it,” Jungkook speaks first. She looks up at him, still saying silent. “You’re Rose?”

She dips her head, some of her hair falling in her face. She nods slowly, “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers and she almost sounds sad, perhaps broken? “After all this time,” she adds.

She looks at Jungkook like he’s her whole universe. Oh how he wishes he could say the same thing about her—it’s what this beautiful girl deserves. She deserves someone whose heart beats for them and them only. That wasn’t Jungkook—he had you and god how much he wanted to spend his life with you only.

“When did you find out?” He asks keeping his voice low and steady so his nervousness won’t show through.

“When I was fourteen,” she says. His heart sinks even further for this girl. His name had been engraved upon her skin for 8 years.

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to look down at his feet. The tension is there—the tension the universe gives soul bonded people. He feels his tie suffocating him again and he reaches up to loosen it again, to no relief though.

Suddenly, Rose steps forward, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to move it away from his collar.

“Let me help,” she says and he swears his heart stops beating when her delicate fingers touch his. Rose manages to undo his impossibly tight neck tie from his mother, retying it just as fast, but a lot more comfortable for him and his neck. Suddenly, Jungkook is glad you were unable to come to Busan with him.

“Thanks,” he laughs, “It’s been suffocating me all night.”

“I could tell,” she returns a chuckle, her palms resting on his chest. She’s just as nervous as he is—he can see the way she breathes unevenly being this close to her.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says.

“Rose.”

“Did you have a good Christmas?” You ask Jungkook as you step into his apartment. If possible, Jungkook came back with thrice as much stuff as he left with and you wanted to help him unpack.

“Pretty good,” he says simply, “I think my parents were disappointed you weren’t there,” he chuckles lightly. Jungkook’s roommates were still back home, not coming back until the new year, so you were going to stay with him to keep him company.

“Well, one day I’ll meet them,” your eyes search for his and he seems somewhat off. He hasn’t said much since you’ve picked him up from the train station. His eyes have looked a little lost, unsure of where to look.

“Yeah,” he shrugs off his coat and begins to unzip one of his 3 suitcases. You unzip a second, noticing how different his clothes smell.

“I see your mom did your laundry?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course, what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring all my laundry for my mom to do?”

Small conversation is said between the two of you as you unpack, fold, and hang up his clothes. You can’t help but notice the luxury men’s wear tags in the pants and shirts you hang up.

“What do your parents do Jungkook?” Your thumb brushes over the thick material of a new coat he received as a gift.

He’s hesitant to speak but he decides to tell you anyways, “My dad is president of a large company back in Busan. You know my mom is an artist,” he says and you recall the days he’s spoke highly of his creative mother.

Ah, you think, now you understand where the wealth comes from.

“I don’t like telling people because I don’t want people to think I’m some spoiled snob,” he laughs at the thought.

“Babe, you’re the farthest thing from that. You know work hard for things you want, what does it matter what anyone else thinks,” you hang the last piece of clothing from his suitcase up and he watches you intently.

He leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you carefully.

“Wanna see something I got,” he says clearing his throat as you look him in the eyes. His eyes quickly look away from yours, unable to face you fully just yet. You nod when you notice his eyes light up as he rummages through his duffle bag to pull out a new camera.

“Holy shit,” you admire the piece of technology as he holds it carefully in his hands. “Who got you this?”

“My brother if you could believe it,” he sounds like he doesn’t even believe his brother was capable of gifting him such a nice present.

“Damn,” you mutter, “Have you used it yet?”

He nods, “I played around with it at the beach before I left,” he says looking at your subtle smile. “Here, lemme take a picture of you,” he smiles a little wider.

“What? Jungkook I look disgusting,” you step away from him. Your hair is thrown up on your head, no makeup, and an oversized ratted turtleneck covers your frame.

“Baby come on you’re beautiful,” he pouts while adjusting the lens and other settings. “Please I wanna remember this.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Remember what? The remnants of my illness that’s made me look crusty for days now?”

He laughs at you, “Sure, whatever you wanna call it,” he holds up his camera to see the lighting on you. “Sit down and scoot back,” he commands to you. You do as he says, sitting on his bed and scooting so your back is hilt against the wall.

“Here?”

He nods, “Mhm,” he focuses on adjusting the last of what he needs to before he says, “Smile babe, you’re on camera.”

You give him a glare before your features soften, giving him a small smile as you look directly into the lens. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s through the lens and he feels his chest tighten. He hated this—he was so in love with you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You were his present and future—he didn’t want anyone else. How could the universe break him like this?

He snaps a couple photos before looking at them in the small frame. A small smile lets loose on his lips as his heart palpitates for you. He feels your eyes watching him closely and you’re unsure why—despite his smile—he seems so sad and so unsure.

Whatever is bothering him, you could only hope that he would open up to you soon and not suppress his feelings.

Jungkook’s only hope right now is cherishing these moments with you because as he has come to learn in the past few days—nothing good ever lasts.

Your phone was buzzing and buzzing annoying you to your core as you tried your best to shove your dangly earrings in your ears. You look down at the caller ID and you roll your eyes with a groan.

“Fuck Taehyung we’re coming!” You half yell at your phone that was still buzzing on your desk. Hearing ruckus in your room, Jungkook peeps in.

“You good babe?” He asks taking notice of how your room is practically flipped upside down. Clothes and jewelry are sprung around and the dress you have decided to wear isn’t even zipped yet, your lower back fully exposed to him.

“Yes,” you say finally slipping the plastic backs on your earrings. You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, heat rushing to your face when you realize how good he looks tonight. “Will you zip me up?”

He nods taking a step towards you, his fingertips cold against your skin. He slowly zips the beaded material up your back slowly not wanting to catch any strings. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around your front pulling you close to him.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles into your neck and you keen into his arms, your feet already blistering in your heels.

“You look sexy,” you muse with a giggle. He turns your body around to flush against his front and he quickly leans down to capture your lips. He’s slow and gentle, wanting you to know how much he cherishes you. He’s careful not to put a hand in your hair knowing how frustrated you were trying to fix it right, so he cradles your neck in one of his hands as you lean into him deeper.

You jump slightly in his arms when your phone starts buzzing again. Jungkook steps away from you and you groan loudly again.

“Remind me to kill him when we get in the car,” you punctuate as you grab your bag and the baby blue coat Taehyung gave you.

“Will do,” Jungkook gives you a wink before grasping your hand into his tightly.

New Years Eve was always a fun time in your friend group, especially at your age. Ever since you started university, you and Taehyung had made it tradition to go to one of the fancier bars in your area for the special occasion. Only having to pay an upfront free—it meant an open bar, free music, and a damn good time.

“Goddamn Y/N,” Taehyung says as you’re waiting in line to get in the bar.

“What? Is there something on my face? My teeth?” You panic looking at your best friend.

“No,” he pauses looking at your date up and down, “You really lucked out didn’t you.”

Jungkook suddenly laughs as his comment and you swat Taehyung’s head.

“Hey back off buddy,” you say wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s torso, “He’s mine asshole.”

“And you’re mine,” Jimin eyes Taehyung playfully. Taehyung had already drank half a bottle of champagne in the car ride from your apartment so he was definitely feeling frisky. It was absolutely freezing outside tonight and Jungkook made sure to keep his arms around you as you waited and waited outside.

“What’s going to be your drink of choice tonight Kook?” You look up at your boyfriend who looks so unbelievable handsome you could cry.

“Hmm, I’m thinking whatever will get me very drunk. Perhaps whiskey?”

Your face contorts at the mention of the dark liquor. Too many bad memories with that one.

“Lemme guess,” Jimin says, “You’re going to down about five green tea shots and then switch over to vodka soda with a splash of cranberry juice.”

Your eyes widen, slightly perturbed, “Am I that basic of a bitch?”

Jimin nods once, “Babe I’m a bartender, we can see girls like you coming from a mile away.”

“Ugh, fine you got me. But maybe instead of vodka soda I’ll just do a flat.” Truth is, you hadn’t drank since your sick spell over Christmas and you were more than ready to get drunk.

A few more minutes and you’re in the crowded bar. You stay close to Jungkook, his hand secured around yours as you make your way to the bar. As expected, you order green tea shots and Jungkook lives up to his previous statement—ordering a whiskey sour to start his night.

You’ve never seen this many people here before. It’s loud, hot, and crowded but it’s everything you could want for New Years Eve. Besides, what’s the fun in going out if it’s not going to be a little chaotic?

After a few drinks, Jungkook finds himself relaxing as he dances close to you. He’s happy right here and right now, but he can’t fully let go—his mind occupied of another woman. He hates himself for doing this, but what is he supposed to do? He’s careful around his arms, making sure his watch stays put and he sleeve doesn’t venture too far up just in case.

Your smile is wide and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Sure, it was scary now that you were starting your last semester of college in a week but since you had Jungkook—you felt more secure in whatever life decides to throw at you than ever.

“I love you,” you say to Jungkook. It’s simple but you could tell him every minute of everyday and not get tired of it.

“I love you more,” he says. He’s honest and he only hopes you can’t see the deep sadness in his eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up at the feeling. “Do you want another drink?” He asks.

You nod, “Yes please.”

“Vodka cran?”

You nod once again, “I’ll be with Taehyung over there.”

Jungkook leaves you behind, walking back towards the bar. If he really was going to try to forget his worries—he was going to need something stronger.

“Two shots of whiskey please,” he says. He’ll get your drink when he’s finished so the ice won’t water it down.

“I didn’t take you for a whiskey guy,” a voice comes from his left and when he looks, he feels his whole world stopping.

“R-Rose?” He blinks, making sure he’s seeing correctly.

“I thought it was you over here,” she smiles asking the bartender for a shot of tequila. “How are you?”

He’s speechless. How? Right now?

“Doing well, how are you?” He asks trying to seem sly. God he could only hope that no one he knew, especially you, saw him right now.

“Same, I’m mentally preparing for my hangover tomorrow,” she laughs before downing her shot quickly.

He smiles, “I feel that,” he downs his first shot. It’s hot and it’s burning his throat. “Listen I’ve been meaning to text you but—“

“Don’t worry about it,” she waves her hand, “I mean what are the odds of us being here together? That’s worth more than a text right?”

He swallows, “Y-you’re right. I didn’t know you lived here.”

She nods, her gaze heavy and somewhat obscene, “I go to the all girls university in the area.”

“Ah, I see,” Jungkook says glancing around. Thankfully the copious amount of people have shielded him from anyone’s view.

“Are you here anyone tonight?” Fuck.

“Just some friends,” he says smoothly. “You?”

“Same. My roommates made me come, but now I’m glad I did,” she smiles brightly and Jungkook can himself falling deep into the hole again. Fuck the fucking universe.

“Me too,” he says before he can catch himself. Her eyes glance down to his lips before she looks back up at him.

“Well, I need to get back to my friends before we get fully separated,” she smiles again, “Come say hi if you see me again,” she winks.

He nods, his eyes wide and mouth dry. “Will do.”

He downs the second shot as she walks away, his eyes unable to rip from her frame. Jungkook was in deep shit—no doubting that. There was only so much longer he could keep up this facade. He was heartbroken to the core and as much as he wanted to be selfish and forget about the name attached to his wrist—that wasn’t plausible. It was a reality he had to face sooner or later.

“Fuck,” he says, ordering your drink before he forgets and another shot of whiskey for the hell of it. There was no getting Rose off his mind now but he could at least try. He knew one thing though—once the clock struck midnight, he was ripping you out of this bar faster than a racehorse.

“Oh my god thank you,” you drunkenly smile up at Jungkook when he comes back with your drink. In your intoxicated state, you don’t notice Jungkook’s demeanor change as much as other people do. Specifically Jimin, who is standing off from your side, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Jungkook looks nervous, tense, and unsure about his surroundings. Jimin was curious about what happened to him in the last five minutes of him being gone.

“Oh shit you guys, it’s almost midnight!” Taehyung yells throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“What are you gonna wish for?” You gaze up at Jungkook as he throws an arm around your frame protectively.

“Is that a thing babe?” He questions, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course it is!” You say, your expression wide and full of disbelief. “I mean I always do it.”

Jungkook leans down and pecks your forehead, his vision fuzzier now that the 3 shots of whiskey have been through his system, “Well I’ll make a wish then, just for you.”

“You better,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. The clock hits 11:59 PM and the countdown to the new year begins.

Jungkook’s grip tightens around you, afraid that if he lets go you’ll find out his deepest secret and run away from him forever. You lean your head on his chest, unknowing of anything that’s bothering him deep down. You inhale his scent, his laundry and cologne intoxicating you even further.

Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!

You look up at Jungkook with another beautiful smile and he leans down to close the short gap between you two. The cheers around you drown out as you focus on each other. One of your hands pulls him down from the back of his hair closer to you, smiling into the kiss.

You wish for nothing to change—you were happy and had your partner—that’s all you could ever wish for.

Jungkook wishes for things to change—to go back to normal—but he was afriad that there wasn’t going to be a normal for you two ever again.

Jungkook makes love to you that night like you have never experienced. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is so slow and calculated. He thrusts deep and hard into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips. You both are drunk but if anything that makes it all the better. You two are fully relaxed in each other’s arms and it was just you and him in that moment. He makes you come two, three, and by the fourth time you can’t breathe. His hands grip your waist and under your ass pushing himself possibly deeper into you.

You hold his face close to yours as he drowns out your half screams and moans with his lips. When he finally comes after holding back to relish each second of his cock being inside of you, it’s the most glorious orgasm he’s ever had.

“Fuck—“ you cut him off with your lips as he stills inside of you. “I love you,” he breathes out heavily, collapsing on his elbows.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

He kisses your collarbone and around your neck, trying to hold back his tears threatening to fall.

“I love you more,” is the last thing he says that night before you two drift off into sleep. He means every word.

University starts back up a couple weeks after New Years. Your final round of classes were starting off great—most of them being bullshit electives. You were going to enjoy your last semester here and you refused to waste yourself away in school work before hitting the “real world.” You didn’t have any classes with Jungkook or Namjoon this semester which was somewhat of a bummer but you would survive.

Jungkook wasn’t doing good to say the least. He was stressed more and more each day. He barely had a good nights sleep in weeks—waking up every few hours thinking about two very different girls in his life. He had begun to converse with Rose over text message so he didn’t seem like a grade-A asshole. Every time he sent or received a text back, his stomach churned and his heart yearned. He couldn’t help himself—this is how the universe works. It was the hardest thing for him to keep a secret like this from you. He hated lying to you and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.

He turned to his photography more than ever in the past few weeks. His hobby slowly becoming his life to distract him from his actual problems. It’s how he found himself early out in the morning, before 7 AM to be exact, shooting the sunrise from a river about ten minutes from his apartment. He was playing with his new toy and lenses that Junghyun had gifted him, loving the camera the more shots he snapped. He didn’t have class until noon and he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.

It was quiet and peaceful. He loved the countryside and this spot reminded him of back home. It was freezing to say the least and he quickly threw on his gloves before he went through his recent captures.

“Jungkook?” His name leaves a female and his chest twists—recognizing who it is immediately. He looks away from his camera, Rose approaching him from his right. She’s wearing leggings and a thick jacket with running shoes.

“H-hey,” he drops his camera some, “What are you doing up this early?” He asks as she stops in front of him.

“I could ask the same to you,” she smiles breathing heavily. She looks down at his camera before looking back up at his face, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go on a run to clear my head.”

He nods slowly, “The best way to clear your head indeed,” he muses. “Same though, to answer your question. Couldn’t sleep and I figured I would come takes some pictures.”

She hesitates before asking her next question, “Can I see?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, looking down at his camera nervously.

“O-only if you want to though,” she adds picking up on his secluded frame.

His eyes soften and his shoulders drop, “No, it’s fine, here.” He clicks around the buttons to bring up the most recent pictures of the sunrise, the river, and it’s reflection.

“Wow,” Rose whispers, smoke following her words as they hit the cold air as he clicks through each one, “These are great Jungkook.”

He smiles shyly, glancing down her frame, “Thanks.” She’s shorter than you are, her head barely hitting his shoulder.

“Have you been taking pictures for long?” She looks up at him when he’s done showing the pictures.

“A few years now,” he says, “It’s my favorite thing to do with my free time.”

“Well from what I can see you’re really talented,” she smiles, “You should do it professionally.”

He blushes, “A man can only wish,” he laughs, fog coming from his lips too.

A silence falls between the two of them. Jungkook isn’t sure what to do and Rose looks around the area, only a handful of people in the surrounding vicinity.

“Hey I was about to go to this café down the street, wanna come with?” She asks. Jungkook is taken aback by her offer. He notices a sadness behind her eyes and he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The café is small and quiet. It smells of espresso and pastries. Jungkook orders himself a coffee with cream and sugar while Rose decides to get some type of iced drink.

“It’s below freezing and you’re drinking iced coffee?” He quirks a brow at her as they sit down beside the main window.

She shrugs, “I love iced coffee more than I love myself.”

He smiles, sipping on his hot coffee slowly not wanting to burn his tongue. Another silence falls between them and Jungkook takes this time to study her more. She’s petite and gorgeous. She’s the type of girl he grew up crushing over. In the few conversations they’ve had, he knows they are very much alike. Each day talking to her and seeing her pop up in random places in his life proved to him this wasn’t a fluke. Rose was his soulmate and Jungkook was hers. That’s the fucking reality and it fucking sucks for him. He could see himself falling for Rose quicker than anyone else before—that’s what is supposed to happen anyways. But he had you—he didn’t want anyone else. You were his end all be all, not Rose.

“Jungkook,” she speaks lowly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Are you seeing someone right now?”

Her question makes his heart rate speed up.

“W-what?” His mouth is dry despite the coffee, “H-how—?”

“One of my friends on New Years saw you leave with a girl,” her voice breaks off. Shit.

“I,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “It’s complicated.”

Complicated?! He was in a committed relationship that was approaching 6 months!

“I’d rather you tell me the truth than lie Jungkook,” she says. “We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to open up to each other.”

He furrows his eyebrows deeply, “It’s not that easy Rose. I just met you almost month ago.”

His words cut her deep but she stands her ground.

“I get that but,” she pauses, “I just don’t want you and whoever you’re seeing to be hurt. I’m sure you knows what happens when—“

“Yes. I know,” he says. He’s already seen it—you’ve already experienced it. The constant up and down sickness from you was just one side effect of a bonded soul that stays with one who isn’t bonded to them.

“Do you love her?” She asks.

“With everything in me,” he answers honestly. She looks away from her soulmate, unsure of how to feel. She had been waiting for him for 8 years. She was expecting her happy ever after. The last thing she thought would happen is that her soulmate would be in love with someone else. Processing this information was going to difficult for her and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jungkook was going through right now.

“Have you told her?”

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She purses her lips, squeezing her cup a little too hard, “I’m not telling you how to go about this Jungkook, but if you really loved her, why are you continuing to hurt her?”

“Taehyung we have to talk right now,” Jimin says into his phone.

“Baby it’s not even 8 AM,” Taehyung’s morning voice is deeper than his actual voice.

“No—like Taehyung it’s urgent.”

Taehyung is beginning to worry what could possibly be going on.

“Is everything okay?” He asks sitting up in his bed, pushing the hair from his face.

“No,” he says, “Not at all.”

Jimin hangs up the phone and makes his way to Taehyung’s apartment. He half jogs, unable to keep up with his feet. Jimin’s mind is racing as he begins to piece his suspicions together.

“Good morning,” Jimin enters the apartment, a shiver going down his back as he steps into the significantly warmer apartment. Jimin glances around the apartment, his eyes frantic. “Y/N isn’t here, is she?”

Taehyung watches his boyfriend with tired eyes like a hawk. “No, why would she be here?”

Jimin nods quickly, “When did she first get sick?”

“Whoa, Jimin what’s going on?” Taehyung holds his hands up, his brain still not fully functioning.

“Just answer the damn question.”

“Uh, Christmas morning, early in the morning.”

“And has she been sick since then?”

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, “Um, she mentioned being sick the day after New Years. Jimin this is stupid, she was hungover both days—“

“Do you know who this girl is?” Jimin pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of Jungkook and a girl neither of them knew sitting at a small cafe across from each other.

“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks taking his phone to zoom in on the pic.

“This morning,” he says, “I went to the gym and saw those two together.”

“What does this mean? Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?!” Taehyung feels himself begin to get angry, handing the phone back to Jimin.

“Well according to Hoseok, the bartender from New Years I sometimes see around asked who the girl Jungkook was cuddled up to at the bar on New Years… and it wasn’t Y/N.”

Taehyung’s face clenches, “W-what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jimin. Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?” He asks again.

“Taehyung, don’t you get it?” Jimin asks running a hand through his hair, “I study this stuff for fucksakes! This,” he holds up his phone of the picture again, “She’s Jungkook’s soulmate, Tae.”

His mouth parts open, “H-how are you so sure?”

“I don’t know the full story but I’m guessing a name came up on Jungkook over Christmas and destiny brought them together after being apart for so long…”

“A name? Jimin, Jungkook is 22 like Y/N… they don’t—“

“Late bloomers—it’s rare, but it happens Taehyung.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes out, fully awake now, “So Jungkook has a soulmate and hasn’t told Y/N I’m assuming.”

Jimin nods, “I’m sure of it. She needs to know Taehyung—it’ll only get worse for her the longer Jungkook stays with her,” his voice trails off. Jimin cared for you as much as anyone close to you and he knew the consequences of tangoing with someone else who was soul bonded.

“I’m gonna kill Jungkook,” Taehyung grips his hair harshly, “When should we tell her?”

Jimin hesitates but speaking after thinking about what could happen to you the more Jungkook hides his secret, “The sooner the better.”

“Babe I don’t know how to do this,” you whine as you stares at a knife and a half open salmon. Jungkook laughs at your attempt to filet the fish for your dinner together.

“It’s not that hard Y/N,” he says pointedly, coming to aid your aid. In one motion, Jungkook manages to remove the skin from the fish.

You roll your eyes at him, “Why are you so fucking good at everything?”

“I’m just that talented,” he gives you a side eye before throwing the fish into the marinade. “Are you sure you want to salmon by the way? I know you’re still not feeling the best.”

“Jungkook it’s fine—I’m not going to get sick from this,” you hoped at least, “Plus you love it and I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”

It was true—today marked your sixth months with Jungkook. January was brutally cold and quickly passed. Now the beginning of February wasn’t any warmer, but it did mark that spring was coming soon.

You couldn’t believe you had been with Jungkook for sixth months. Six months had come and gone like that. It was odd being in a committed relationship for this long when two people weren’t soulmates—but frankly, you were sure Jungkook was your soulmate so it didn’t really matter anyways.

As Jungkook watched you whip up some rice and veggies to go on the side, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guiltier than fuck. It had just been over a month since he meet Rose and to put it shortly—the universe was fucking trying it. No matter where he went, she always seemed to be there. They texted at least a few times everyday, obviously keeping it to himself. Rose was being patient, as she was trying her best to understand Jungkook’s situation, though he had a gut feeling she didn’t want to wait around much longer for him. Time was running out for Jungkook and it was running out faster than he ever wished it do be.

You and Jungkook finish and eat dinner together on the couch. Sure he had a small dining room table but it was tradition for the two of you to cuddle up on the couch together for your meals. Plus, his roommates weren’t home so you may as well make yourself comfy.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook when he goes silent for a few moments. As much as you loved Jungkook, you knew something had been bothering him for weeks that he hadn’t opened up to you about. If it was something he really wanted to open up with you about, he would have already and you felt it wasn’t your place to prod. When he was ready, he would be ready you suppose.

“Hm?” his doe eyes look into yours before glancing away, “Nothing much… I just can’t believe we’re graduating in three months,” he laughs shaking his head in disbelief.

You agreed with him, “Crazy right… are you scared?”

He looks down at your legs that are draped across his, “Yeah, I am.”

A look falls on his face that you can’t read. He’s blank on the outside but you’re sure deep down whatever he’s thinking about is torturing him.

“Jungkook,” you nudge him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a grimace.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just feel like something has been bothering you.”

He bows his head and you’re sure he’s about to be fully honest with you until he says, “I’m just stressed babe.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Stressed you can believe—but what? School? Family? Us?

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you Jungkook,” you say. You can visibly see his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.

“If I wanted you to know don’t you think I would fucking tell you Y/N?” he snaps and it makes you jump in your position, “Don’t be so goddamn nosy if it’s none of your business.”

Jungkook stands up from the couch and your mouth parts at his words. Not only are you taken aback, but you can’t believe Jungkook actually spoke to you like that.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” you stand up and make your way towards him. He’s lean against the counter, his head down. “Jungkook, hey, what the fuck?” you ask him, beginning to get more and more frustrated as each second passes.

He lifts his head to look at you, a pained expression on his features, “Look I’m sorry—“

He’s cut off by heavy knocks on your door. Neither of were expecting anyone and if it was his roommates, they would have just used their keys. Your eyes follow Jungkook when he goes and opens the door. What happens next goes by so fast you weren’t even sure it happened until Jungkook is stumbling backwards, a groan emitting from his lips.

“Taehyung?!” you nearly scream rushing over to Jungkook, “What the fuck?! What are you doing?!” Taehyung walks into the apartment with Jimin close behind him.

“Ow, fuck man,” Jungkook holds his cheek in pain. Taehyung didn’t look like he had much power but he just proved himself wrong.

“Have you told her yet,” Taehyung speaks, looking straight at Jungkook, “Or are you still lying to her?”

You look between the two of them, your mind racing and confused.

“Told me what? Taehyung what the fuck are you doing, are you crazy?!” you yell at him again.

Jungkook and Taehyung continue to glare at each other. Jungkook notices Jimin staring too and he knows—it’s over.

“Not right now Taehyung,” Jungkook says angrily. You whip your head over Jungkook again. What’s going on?!

“Told me what?” you ask looking back over at Taehyung and then Jungkook again, “Told me what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, his eyes full of a wave of sadness. Your heart begins to race, your hands clammy and you feel like you might get sick again.

“What’s going on Jungkook?” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You know something isn’t right, otherwise this would not be happening right now.

“I was gonna tell you,” Jungkook’s voice breaks off as he comes closer to you, taking your hands in his, “I just didn’t know how.”

You feel a tear come down your face, “Baby what’s happening?”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Taehyung spits, “We don’t have all night.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds him from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t break his gaze with you as he lets go of your hands. He pulls the sleeve of his left sweatshirt, moving his silver watch back in the process. When your eyes fall onto it—the name—it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest. Your breathing picks up and you look back into Jungkook’s eyes.

You shake your head, “No, no, no,” you mumble, “This is a joke right? This has to be a fucking joke,” the tears are now falling in rhythmic streams down your face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says, tears now welling his eyes eyes, “Y/N I love you so much—“

“How long have you known?” you step away from him, feeling light headed and queazy. He doesn’t answer until you press again. “How long have you fucking known Jungkook?!”

“Over a month,” his voice drops and you don’t ever think you’ve felt the sharp pains shooting in your chest until now.

“Y/N,” Jimin speaks this time, “I think you should come with us.”

“You’ve been lying to me all this time?” you ignore Jimin, your voice cracking on the edges.

“Y/N, no baby please,” he steps towards you, his hands finding your face, “I-I didn’t know what to d-do. I l-love you and you only you, nothing will ever change that,” Jungkook pleads. You shake your head, pushing him away from you.

“It changes everything Jungkook!” you yell at him, furiously wiping the tears from your face, “You’ve known about your soulmate for a goddamn month and you thought you could hide that from me?! Are you kidding me Jungkook?!”

Jungkook pulls at the roots of his hair, glancing over to Taehyung and Jimin, “I’m sorry Y/N,” he repeats, “W-we can do something about this, there has to be—“

“No,” you spit, “No, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore Jungkook,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, “There’s no way around this and you lied to me.”

“Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s heart breaks all over again as he watches you gather your things, shoving your feet into your shoes.

“Take this,” you rip the ring that suddenly didn’t mean anything to you anymore off your finger, shoving it into Jungkook’s palm. He stares at the jewelry, his eyes watery and blurry.

“Come on,” Taehyung says holding out his arm for you. With one last glance at Jungkook, you turn on your feet and walk out of his apartment. Jimin shuts the door behind of you two and you don’t even make it to their car when you break down into a full sob, Taehyung wrapping his arms around you protectively. You didn’t just walk out of Jungkook’s apartment—you’ve walked out of his life too.

SPRING

Spring was always your favorite season. The blossoming of trees and flowers always seemed to cheer up your mood. More sunlight meant more happiness and less seasonal depression. The warming weather was always a nice touch after cruel and harsh winters. This year though, you thought no one could hate Spring as much as you did.

Everyday was new challenge for you. When you and Jungkook first broke up—your feelings were indescribable. The mental and physical chest pains you experienced from your heartbreak were sure the worst you could ever have. You were a broken soul—a soul not meant for someone who you loved more than life itself sometimes.

It was hard doing simple things—getting out of bed, doing your laundry, going to class, eating meals—it was all such a burden to you. You cried and cried and cried until you had no more tears left. Sleep was even worse as it meant your unconscious state always drifted into thoughts of Jungkook. There was the time frame where Jungkook called you, left messages and voicemails, tried to contact you through Taehyung and others—but it was all the more painful. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to rid any trace of him from your phone, afraid that you might forget what he looked or sounded like.

No one had ever seen you in such a broken state. You thought you’re mind couldn’t drift into worse territory until one night, you thought about Jungkook and his soulmate—whoever she was. You thought about him loving her, making love to her, taking pictures of her, marrying her, having kids with her, looking at her the way he looked at you—it completely shattered you even more. You don’t remember how much you drank that night. One shot of vodka? Two? Seven? Glasses of wine? It didn’t matter you just needed to forget.

It was when Taehyung found you that night passed out over your toilet, is when he recommended seeing someone. At first, your idea of going to a therapist over a failed relationship seemed silly. But Taehyung made sure that you and Jungkook were more than a college fling—it was real and it was going to take a lot of time to get over.

Your therapist was a nice woman, upper forties maybe, slim face and blonde hair. Your first couple sessions with her didn’t go as smooth as you wished for. She asked you hard questions that you weren’t willing to answer. The third session you went to, you broke down in front of a stranger becoming the most vulnerable you’d ever been.

She knew you loved Jungkook and he loved you just as deeply too. She explained soul-bonding more in depth to you that day. The universe has a reason why it pairs two souls together and why some people are left bare. It’s a phenomenon that’s barely studied but she suspects it’s more common than people want to believe. There’s also a process called soul-breaking, that is rare too but the consequences can bare far greater risks so majority of the people stay away from it.

Overall, you grew up your whole life thinking something was wrong with you. You thought you were a glitch because you didn’t receive a name on your body at 18. But if anything, meeting with your therapist made you realize that nothing was wrong with you. You live a healthy life, have a family, have friends, and you fell in love with someone—and all that is okay.

“I do believe if two people are meant to be together, they will be, someway or somehow,” she said to you one day.

Nearly two months after your break up and one month left until graduation—it was still hard. You had been prescribed antidepressants for a few weeks now and while it did numb your pain for the most part, there were times when thinking about Jungkook just made you want to curl into a ball and forget about your tasks for that day. You told yourself you needed to stop doing that though—you had to be strong otherwise you couldn’t move forward.

“Here you go,” Taehyung plops down a cup of steaming coffee and a bagel in front of you. Your stomach growls at the site.

“Thank you,” you give him a smile, “I’m starved.”

“I bet, you’ve been writing that paper for fucking hours,” he says digging into his own bagel with salmon and cream cheese. You should mention you hated salmon too now.

Taehyung was the greatest friend anyone could have, that you were sure of. Everyday, he called or texted to check in on you. He brought you food to make sure you were eating. Him and Jimin would invite you to the movies or restaurants with them. You refrained from going out to bars with them, too afraid you might run into the wrong people. Nonetheless, without Taehyung by your side, you were sure these past two months would have been much more difficult.

“I got my cap and gown in the mail,” he sings songs scrolling through his phone.

“Jesus Christ Tae, can you believe we’re graduating college?”

He laughs, “I said the same thing when we graduated high school,” he glances at you, “Look at us now bitches!” he holds his arms out dramatically.

You laugh at him, chewing on your food slowly. If there was one positive about being alone the past two months, it meant your illness had gone away completely. Your therapist explained how illnesses of different forms can plague people who play a role in betraying a soul-bonded person. Though you already knew that from your project last semester.

“Did you ever hear back from that company?” Taehyung asks you as you mule over in small conversation.

“Uh yeah,” you smile shyly, playing with the ends of your hair.

“Welllll?”

“I got an offer, if I want it,” your smile widens even more. Taehyung’s mouth drops open before it melts into his signature boxy smile.

“Wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N that’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” you look away from him, heating rushing to your cheeks. It was an exciting opportunity and you felt this was the path for you.

“But wait hold on,” he pauses, “Does this mean… you’re moving? To New York City?”

There’s the bombshell you haven’t dropped on many people yet. New York City. It was always a dream of yours to possibly live there one day. And now with nothing holding you back here, when you applied for the company and they asked a preferred location—you said fuck it.

“Yeah, later in the summer,” your voice is low. Taehyung’s shoulders drop, his happy mood diminishing ever so slightly.

“New York…” he ticks, “Well I’ve always wanted to go there so I’ll have to visit once or five times a year.”

You nod giving him a short wink, focusing on the rest of you coffee and food. Slowly but surely, you were getting better. You knew that your future days would be filled with five steps forward, two steps back but it was the natural process. Once you graduated and moved onto to bigger and better things—you’ll understand that this chapter, while thick and important, was only just a chapter. You have another one already waiting at the starting line to begin.

Jungkook was numb—literally numb as a needle digs in and out of skin, inking a flower onto his forearm. He had this one for awhile, but it still needed the little details to perfect the tattoo to his liking. His first tattoos, the scattered pieces on his hands were the most painful. However, now as he has a good amount of ink on his arm all the way to his shoulder, the pain isn’t there that much. He almost likes the stinging sensation as it gives him something to focus on rather than his intrusive thoughts.

The past few months haven’t been easy on him. Watching you walk away from him hit him harder than when Rose’s name showed up on his skin. And he just let you. Sure, he called and texted and persisted as much as he could but he knew he should have done more. He should have explained in more depth why he did what he did. Yes, it was because he loved you with every fiber of his being, but he genuinely didn’t care if he was meant for someone else. He wanted to be with you despite the situation present. There was surely something he could do to make it right but you were long gone from his life. He was stuck in a hole and he didn’t know how to get out.

Jungkook and Rose saw each other more frequently after his break up. She was so kind and so patient with him, he knew she deserved so much more. She never rushed anything with him, always waiting for his moves. The first time he kissed her, there was tingling deep in his chest. As great as kissing Rose was, she could never compare to you. It was hard and confusing for him to understand. He’s heard all his life—when soulmates cross paths and become intimate with each other, their whole world begins to revolve around them. That wasn’t the case though. As much as he was being pulled in by Rose, he was being pulled into a completely different direction. That wasn’t how bonded souls worked, he knew that much.

“You’re not very talkative today,” his tattooist comments as she wipes away the leftover ink on his arms. Jungkook always preferred a female to do his tattoos as they seem to have more control and a gentler grip.

“Just a lot on my mind,” he shrugs turning his head towards the tattoo needle.

“Women issues?” she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is it that obvious?” he half laughs.

“My job requires a lot of listening and giving advice,” she says, “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”

He doesn’t say anything as he watches the way she furrows her eyebrows, getting closer to his skin to add the finishing touches.

“Are you still with, Y/N? Was it?” she then asks. The mention of your name sends his face pale. How many months had it been since he last saw you or mentioned you? One, two, three? All of his days blended together so he’s lost track of time.

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Really? I thought you were gonna marry her?”

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold down his emotions before saying, “That was the plan until the universe decided to throw me bullshit.”

She’s never heard Jungkook sound angry. He’s always been very polite and an overall happy person. Jungkook felt he had a right to be angry and resentful. Unfortunately, that anger and resentment was sometimes projected onto those people around him. His roommates had to walk on eggshells around him now, afraid he might fully break if they said one wrong thing to him.

“When did this happen?” she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“A few months back, around Christmas.”

“Have you met them yet? Your partner?” she pauses when she notices Jungkook’s jaw clenching as he’s staring at the ceiling now, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I just like to think I’m good at giving advice, is all.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he contemplates elaborating but does so anyways, “But it’s not this big grand affair that I was told about my whole life. She’s amazing and just my type, but… she’s not her. I like her a lot, but I don’t get the same fiery feeling I had with Y/N.”

“Hm,” she muses, putting down the tattoo gun, “You’re done,” she gives a small smile at him. He holds up his arm to inspect the new ink.

“Thanks, it looks great,” he gives her a small smile as she begins the aftercare process of petroleum jelly and a bandage.

“Can I see your mark?” she asks. He nods before shimmying his watch down his arm, revealing Rose’s name in thin cursive. The mark itself is still very much there, but recently it’s begun to fade and he wasn’t sure why.

“Sorry if I’m giving you too much information,” he laughs feeling slightly awkward as she inspects the name.

“It’s fine, I’m the one that asked,” she chuckles again before she sits back in her chair and begins to lift her own sleeve up. He’s confused as to what’s she doing but when she lays out her hand, he sees it. “This showed up when I was nineteen,” he reads the name that’s barely visible anymore—almost looking like a scar.

“Why’s it not dark anymore?” he asks.

“The same reason yours is fading too,” she looks back at his wrist.

“What do you mean fading?” so he wasn’t crazy—it was actually fading.

“It’s what happens when someone’s heart belongs to someone else,” she says, “I don’t know how to explain it but it occurs more than you think.”

She wraps up Jungkook’s forearm and he’s more confused than ever.

“The world is so fucked up,” he comments closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Heard that,” she nods in agreement, “Come on, I’ll ring you up.”

That day into the tattoo shop was a good day for him. It felt nice to open up about his situation to someone who seemingly understood what he was going through. Yes, the world was fucked up but so was everyone living in it. He didn’t understand the full meaning of his mark fading but he knew in the long run, he would deal with whatever was thrown at him. He had to otherwise he was going to live a long, miserable life. Besides, he knows that you would want him to be happy even though you probably hated him for what he did. He wants the same for you because at the end of the day, if he knew you were happy—he would be too.

. The smile on your face as you threw your cap into the air was probably the biggest and most genuine smile you’ve put on for months. The cheers and clapping from everyone in the room drowned out any tears that formed in your eyes. Of course you were happy to be done with university, but it was very bittersweet. The last four years of your life have been the best and worst possible. Everything you’ve learned here, you were sure would live with you for the rest of your life.

You find your parents and younger sister after the ceremony. The hug with your dad is the best you’ve had in a long time. He squeezes you tight, picking you up slightly.

“Gah, we’re so proud of you Y/N,” your mom dabs the inner corners of her eyes as she watches the seen unfold.

“I can’t believe my baby is graduated,” your dad pulls away, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Hey! Stop I spent time on this,” you step away from him, smoothing down your roots.

“Does this mean we get to go to New York now?” your big sister, Mia asks your parents. She’s pulls you into a hug which you exhale deeply in return. You didn’t get to see your sister as much as you wished, but growing up she was your rock. She was the best role model you could have asked for.

“Of course,” you say, “Only if you bring me bags and bags of those honey butter chips.”

“Anything you want we can bring it, or ship it!” your mom nods enthusiastically.

“What about me?” you turn around at the voice of Taehyung, throwing your arms around him.

“Holy shit Taehyung we’ve done it!” you exclaim. Your parents give you a slide on your language in front of them, understanding the circumstance.

“Mia! What’s up!?,” Taehyung pokes your sister on the shoulder before giving her a quick hug. He holds up his diploma and smiles, “Four years and thousands upon thousands of dollars later, we’ve made it.”

“Do you still wanna go downtown? Grab some dinner?” you ask your parents and they nod excitedly.

“Definitely—you choose wherever,” your father smiles. “Taehyung, you and Jimin are welcome to come if you don’t have any plans.”

“Oh we will definitely be there,” he smiles, “Just text me where you guys are going. I gotta go find the devil and my parents through all this mess. See you later!”

Later ended up being at a nicer restaurant downtown that you had never been to—too broke as a college student to ever think about coming here for dinner. You mulled over conversation with glasses of wine and good food, Taehyung being the star of the dinner table. Jimin smiled lovingly at his partner, slightly jealous that you and Taehyung were now finished with school. He’s got another year left in his master’s program so he’ll be graduated this time next year.

When you’re finally done with dinner, you part with your parents and sister for the evening outside the restaurant when you run into an all familiar face.

“Y/N?”

You turn to the source, “Namjoon?” a smile spreads over your face and you quickly make your way to him and give him a squeeze.

“Congrats!” he smiles when you pull away, looking back over your shoulder.

“You too, I can’t believe we’re done,” you laugh taking in his attire. He’s dressed in a nice button down and dress pants, glasses resting on his face looking dapper as ever. “Oh this is my family,” you introduce the them.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles, “This is Kaya,” he smiles and you didn’t even realize he had company with him. You introduce yourselves to each other and she’s got to be one of the most beautiful girls you’ve met. They look damn good together.

“Nice to meet you,” you return your own smile.

“Is dinner here good?” he asks all of you. Everyone agrees in response and he looks over to Kaya, “Well, it was good to meet you all. Let’s catch up one day? You’re gonna be around in the city right?”

“A city yes,” Mia interjects crossing her arms, slightly envious of you, “Not this one, but New York City.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you, “Wow, big girl things huh?”

You laugh repeating his words, “Big girl things.”

Namjoon and Kaya leave into the bustling restaurant after some finals words and you’re finally parting ways with your family. You mom and dad give you another bone crushing hug before they have to go back home. Mia looks at you with a sadness in her eyes and you furrow your eyebrows at her.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she hides herself in her shell.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she pouts, slumping her shoulders.

“I still have a few more months home,” you give her a smile, “And I promise you can visit me and I’ll come back as much as I can.”

“Promise?” she holds up her pinky. You link your pinkies together before nodding your head.

You bid your farewell’s to your family one last time before you’re left alone with Jimin and Taehyung.

“Your sister is funny,” Jimin comments as you begin to walk in the opposite direction of them. Your heels were absolutely killing your feet and you were tempted to take them off but thinking about the dirt and grim on the street made you think otherwise.

“She’s sweet on the outside but damn she can be a handful,” you laugh.

“She’s almost twenty five babe, about to hit her first mid-life crisis what do you expect?” Taehyung says.

Minuscule conversation occurs between the three of you before they have to part ways too. Taehyung and Jimin were meeting up with Taehyung’s parents at a bar just outside the city to celebrate. The sun was now setting, the air warm and sticky as you hugged them off. You were walking back to the parking garage that you had your car when something catches your eye on the way. Downtown was filled with bars, restaurants, boutiques and what nots, but you’ve never seen this before. It was an art studio of sorts, pictures—digital and art canvases—hanging from the windows.

You stared at the plexiglass, a sense of familiarity crossing your mind the longer you stared at the blown up photographs. You take a peak at the hours listed on the door and see that they don’t close for another twenty minutes or so. Curiosity getting the best of you, you swing open the door, silence engulfing you as you step in.

Your heels clink against the hardwood, glancing around the space. It’s quite spacious, pictures lining the walls up and down all the way to the back. A few art pieces are strayed in the middle of the floor. You walk slowly around the gallery, admiring the painted canvases and shots of various things. You pick up there’s different artists and photographs displaying their works and when you get towards the back left corner of the place, you stop in your tracks.

A gallery of scenic pictures ranging from clouds, to the sea, to the cityscapes, and more hang beautifully in thin frames. Something twists inside you as you feel deep down that you’ve seen some of these before you just cannot put your finger on it. It’s when you see a picture to the farthest right when you feel yourself skipping a breath. Your mouth parts when you realize what it it—or who it is. It’s you. It’s black and white film developed, the side of your face looking off into the distance with trees behind you. Your mind flashes back to that day in the park—with Jungkook—a small picnic he set up when you first got together.

“Y/N?” you whip around at the sound of your name.

“J-Jungkook?” his name leaves your lips instantly. He’s emerged from a back room stopping dead in his tracks. You’re speechless. He looks so good—better than you remember. His hair a little longer with blonde tips, a white button up, sleeves rolled up with black slacks that he fills out perfectly.

“H-hey,” he speaks first. His eyes trailing up and down your body quickly. You subconsciously glance down at your frame, the white dress and heels you’re wearing hoping to match how he good looks. “What are you doing here?”

“I—“ you pause looking back at the pictures, “I was just passing by and was curious, I didn’t know this place existed.”

Slowly, he steps closer to you shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears are red and he can’t believe that you’re here, looking at his favorite picture he ever took of you.

“It just opened up recently,” he says getting closer to you, though leaving a considerable amount of space between you two. “I started selling some of my pieces through here,” he explains.

“That’s great Jungkook,” you give him a small smile to hide the hurt you’re actually feeling. It’s been months and suddenly all of your progress seems to have backtracked. He was so beautiful—the most perfect man you have ever met—and he’s standing here before you again. Jungkook can’t believe his eyes either—you’re here, feet away from him, something he thought he’d never see anymore.

“How are you doing?” he asks, unable to take his off you. You can feel him staring holes into you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.

“I’m good, you?” you continuously stare at his photos, feeling self conscious the more you stand in his presence.

“I’m okay,” better now that you’re here, is what he wants to say, but he refrains. “You look good,” he says and you look over and up at him, meeting his eye contact.

“You too,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to his wrist, not even realizing what you’re doing. His watch still there, hasn’t moved since the last time you saw him. You feel a tingle in your fingertips and chest, unable to hide your awkwardness.

“Y/N,” he stops himself so you’ll look at him again. Fuck, he loves it when you look at him like that. “Would you want to get some coffee one day? Or something like that?” his words are brave and you can’t believe he said them.

As much as you know you shouldn’t—that you might be setting yourself up for further hurt—something between the two makes you say otherwise. Besides, you’ve been hurt enough, what’s a little more going to do?

You slowly with a small smile, “What about right now? A-are you free?”

He glances at his photos with a small smile in return before glancing back to you, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“Yeah… yeah I’m free.”

#goldenclosetnet #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook oneshot #soulmate au #college au #jeon jungkook

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shotosprincess · 3 years

Text

what if... — shoto todoroki

“ what if we kissed then? just to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “

summary: ever since you and todoroki started working together as pro heroes, your friends simply wouldn’t let up on teasing you two, suspecting that there was something between you—something that extended past the bounds of business.

notes: fluff ,, todoroki being flustered ( aaaa he’s so cute bye ) the bakusquad teasing and egging ya’ll on ( their dialogue is color coded so it’s easier to read ! ) ,, denki being a little bit of a busybody <3

“ ooooh look who it is! the power coupleeee! “ the sing-song tone of denki’s teasing rung through the hall as he spotted you and todoroki entering the building from a long day of pro hero work.

grey streaks of dust and ash littered your bodies, streaks of sweat and diluted stripes of dried crimson staining multiple sides on both your faces. his hair was tattered and slightly singed from the discord of an especially-messy battle, yours was tangled in a hopeless mess. a heavy sigh leaves you. that would be a pain to brush through later.

your numbed fingers, body exhausted and worn out, run through your hair in a wordless frustration. shoto tenses up noticeably at denki’s playful comment. “ denki. we’re not a couple. “

his lips raise into a cheeky, if not mildly-irritating smirk as he leans further into the velvet couch, draping his arms round the back. “ oh yeah? take your arm off their shoulder then, shoto. “

your partner’s face lights up with a rose so brilliant, it almost even matched with the rubied strands of his hair. his lips tightly purse together, sliding his arm, which was, in fact, casually resting on your shoulder, off with a hurried swoop.

“ shut it, kaminari. “ he huffs in a low, almost even threatening tone as he walks past the energetic blonde at an increased pace. you frown. he seemed so worked up over it, and for what? it’s not as if this was the first time someone had poked at you for being a “ couple “—which you were not, but you were never the one to readily disprove their remarks, though delivered in a joking manner. it’s not as if you felt anything of the sort for him...right?

so then why was it so hard to admit that you weren’t anything more than what you were on the field? it was the truth, after all.

“ jeez, what’s with him? i was just kidding. “ sticking a lollipop into his mouth, he turns to lay down fully on the couch, stretching his back out with such leisure.

your eyes followed him as he disappeared past a corner, shaking your head in confusion. “ no clue. “

it was just one of the countless circumstances in which people had poked at the two of you for your not-so-platonic habits with one another, habits which, admittedly, hinted at something...more than friendship. more than a partnership. this was nothing new.

but of course, you pushed it all away, allowing the rumours and silly hashtags and fanmade edits and youtube compilations to completely ricochet off of you. however, the same couldn’t exactly be said for todoroki. shame.

you didn’t quite know why, but he always got so unexplainably tense about it whenever someone brought the topic up. he’d curl up his fists so aggressively it’d leave crescent marks the next day, rearrange his face into a scowl—it was clear that he hated it, joke or not. honestly, you didn’t have the guts to attempt to make them stop, for you knew that if you had, you just knew that the public would somehow find a way to turn it into “ proof “ that you were dating, all because he got so riled up and flustered. which was silly, really, since it was a perfectly normal human reaction to something like this.

though you can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he did feel that way about you, and maybe that was the reason he—

no, no, what were you thinking? he couldn’t possibly...right? you were just partners. nothing more, nothing less.

but if he did think of you like that, would you want something more?

“ oh come on, just admit it! if not to the public, then to us at least. aren’t we friends? “

“ yeah, icy hot. i mean, seriously, have more guts— “

“ ...how many fucking times do i have to tell you, bakugou...we’re not a couple. denki, stop playing around. you’re egging him on. “ shoto’s harsh tone cuts sharply through the banter between denki and the overly-intense ashen blonde, bringing it to an abrupt end. it didn’t exactly last very long, though.

“ yeah, yeah. that’s what i said about that dumbass deku, and look where we are now. “ he rasps, a knowing smirk playing on his face as he pulls his now-blushing boyfriend close.

“ not everything is about love, bakugou. “ he smirks.

“ yeah, who knew you’d be the one to turn out to be such a romantic? “ denki laughs, earning a solid punch to his arm.

“ owww! that actually hurt. “ his lips jut out in a pout, rubbing over the blooming patch of light purple.

“ oh, shut up, idiot! “

“ you know what? fine. y/n? “

you pause, perfectly still and unmoving as the coldness of his eyes burned his unknown intent into you.

“ y-yeah? “

he strides over to you, appearing only inches away within the briefest of seconds. one of his hands quickly finds a home against your cheek, tilting it to look up at him. your heart pulsates at a nearly impossible rate.

“ kiss me. “

“ what? “

“ just this once. to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “ he says, rolling his eyes at denki and bakugou, who were futilely trying to cover their smirks.

heat rises to your cheeks, cauterizing them with an unfamiliar flame. “ oh! uh! i—sure.“

what other choice did you have? after all, you did want to prove to everyone that there really was nothing between you and shoto. or maybe, just maybe, you were also trying to prove it to yourself?

no, no. that couldn’t be. it couldn’t.

he wastes no time. his skin, cold and smooth, fingers like porcelain streams, grasp your chin with a fast-paced elegance which sends a prominent shudder down your back. his lips hover just above yours, and the tension buzzing between you is ridiculously electric. he’s so close, your heartbeat rings in your ears and his breath shallowly fans upon your face as he peers into your eyes with his own. you allow them to fall closed.

as if on cue, his lips meet yours with a gentle, albeit fairly aggressive peck. but as soon as they do, your chest spurns with the fibres of your heartstrings, embroidering them tightly into the knots of his own tangled past. you know what he said. you know what you said—it was all to prove that you didn’t feel anything for one another.

but then why did it feel so oddly...right?

he pulls away, and your lips suddenly feel empty, deserted. the electric thrum still prickles at your lips, wanting, no—needing, more. you hate how much your body craved him, how desperately you wanted for his arms around you again. there’s too much emotion, an overwhelming influx. it is near impossible to even articulate it, at least not in a way which could ever hope to properly encapsulate the undeniable magic of the moment. you were being so damn melancholic, and that was saying something, even for you.

when his lips leave yours, you cannot help but be frozen in your simple state of bliss, utterly dazed with hazy remnants of how annoyingly addicting it was. your eyes gloss over with a sense of want, sparkling with the same glitters his icy eyes met yours with. his hand remains on your cheek, but his touch softens against yours.

your silent stare prolongs for more than just the fleeting moment, as if you were subconsciously grabbing at it with invisible arms, reaching desperately to bring each other back. that was when it hit you; the blinding realization that you did, in fact, want this. want him. and yet, you couldn’t help but hesitate. what about him? did he want this? no, no, he couldn’t possibly. after all, this whole kiss situation was only because he wanted to prove that explosive idiot wrong, that there was nothing between you two but teamwork and good quirk compatibility.

your heart stings at the minor epiphany, the thoughts piercing at your head in an endless swirl of emotions. second-guessing yourself, wondering why you even cared whether or not he thought of you that way. or at least, how he didn’t think of you that way. the tiniest shine of a tear begins to coat your lashes when—

his lips crash against yours for a second time, his hand now trailing towards your scalp, weaving through the fibres as his lips danced upon yours. your guard, your hesitation fully melting away in his arms.

but alas, you made the mistake of allowing yourself to forget that people were watching too.

“ ha! i knew it! i fucking knew it! “ kaminari’s playful voice rings like the most annoying song ( in this moment, i mean come on, you loved the guy, but right now? not exactly helping your stance of “ we don’t see each other like that “ ) as his head peaks out from the halls.

instantly you break away, pulling from each other as your hand flies to clamp over your mouth, eyes bulging wide at what you had just done. you had just kissed shoto. in front of, well, practically everyone! since when did mina and kirishima even get here?!

“ shit. “ shoto mutters deeply, thrashing his hands into his two-toned hair in frustration.

“ shoto, i—i’m so sorry, i didn’t know they would— “

“ no, no. don’t apologize. it’s my fault. i...i shouldn’t have gone for a second ki— “

“ honestly, i think i would’ve been more mad at you if you haven’t. “

“ WHAT?! “ your little audience shrieked. your palms clasped right over your mouth after the admission, face burning with embarrassment. the words left you before you could even think them through. had you really just said that? in front of everyone? how carefree can you be?

you stare into the ground, focusing on literally anything but him.

“ hey. look at me. “

you refused.

“ y/n. “ his hand goes up to your chin, making you look up at him. the pout on your face is so plainly obvious, it makes his heart twitch in a slight pain. you could almost swear you heard mina squeal faintly at the boldness of his action, considering the predicament you two were currently stuck in.

“ what? “

“ i...i think i would’ve regretted it more if i hadn’t kissed you again. “

“ you—what? “

“ i...i didn’t want to pull away. “

“ holy shit. “

“ shut up bakugou! “

“ i wanted...i wanted it to last a little longer. “

“ jeez, and i thought i was bad at confessing my feelings. pft. this is just embarrassing to watch. “

“ same here. i mean you did ask midoriya out by yelling ‘ i love you, dumbass! ‘ from outside his dorm window. “

“ hey, idiot! we don’t talk about that! “

“ shhhh both of you! shut up! we are witnessing an important romantic moment here! “

“ i...seriously? “

“ seriously. and i—i don’t know what the hell this feeling....is. but i....i just— “

“ it’s okay. “ you shoot him a reassuring smile, the same kind you always did in the midst of battle, that comforting smile that let him know you had his back. you communicated with your eyes, though usually they were bloodshot with adrenaline and smudged with ash, there truly was no need for words. not with him.

“ y/n...i— “

“ awwwww aren’t they the cutest? now kiss again! “

“ mina. “ he shoots her a lightly cold stare.

“oh come on! let us have our fun, yeah, icy hot? “ bakugou slings his arm over kaminari’s shoulder, whose grin matches that of his blonde-haired counterpart.

“ i thought i told you not to call me— “

“ shoto. “

he immediately turns to you, slipping into serenity at the sound of your voice.

“ ah shit, here they go again. we get it, you’re a cute couple! “

“ mina, i told you. we’re not a co- “ his eyes snap to yours, lips parting in a hesitant pause.

“ not a what, icy hot? “ the smirk exuding of utter smugness upon bakugou’s face only spreads all the wider.

he allows his hands to fall, taking yours within his. there is a brief, yet definite moment of silence before he speaks again. “ i mean... “

your gaze is focused on the way his hands fully envelope yours, and the unexplainable, tingly feeling you’re getting from it all. despite that, you could still very well see mina and kaminari excitedly waving and bouncing in all sorts of directions, as if they were...cheering you on? it was almost as if they were more fired up about all this than you were.

keyword; almost.

“ shoto, i— “

and suddenly his composure and poise breaks, and all that’s left is the rare sight of shoto todoroki, stuttered in a blushing, shaky mess. “ i mean, i wouldn’t be opposed to it. not—not like i desperately want to or anything, but at the same time i—i just—fuck, why is this so har— “

you rise onto your tip toes, hands encircling his neck as you kiss him. what unknown spirit possessed you with the guts to make the first move, it was fully unbeknownst to you. but you weren’t complaining, no. not in the slightest.

“ HOLY SHIT?? “

“ my baby’s all grown up now— “

“ dumbass, they’re not your bab— “

“ they’re mine. “

“ i— “

“ that is, if you want to b— “

“ well no shit, dumbass! “ you jump into his arms, squealing as you squeeze him tight.

“ good. because...so do i. “

“ i told you! “

“ shut up idiot! “

“ hey, so now can we start a fan account for you two on instagram? i’m sure it’d totally blow up! “ mina squealed with a wink, holding up her phone, already halfway through the sign up process.

“ mina! “ everyone groaned in a laughter-filled unison.

so that was it, you supposed.

you did have feelings for each other.

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confusednarcissistwrites · 4 years

Text

Je T’aime (T.C.)

Another request for the angel, @thestarsaregivenonceonly . This is sooo fluffy, but I think we all could use a bit of that right now. Hope you enjoy, doll 😘

(fluffy smut for the soul, jealousy)

“Timmy, you’re making a mess!”

You were incredibly grateful that your boyfriend had found a project that kept him in New York for a few months. You’d just recently moved in together and were getting into each other’s rhythms. This included working on dinners together, much to your delight.

You squealed, trying to dodge Timotheé’s attempts to smear tomato sauce on your face.

“Just let it happen! You know you can’t outrun me,” he taunted, cornering you against the counter. He swiped it across your nose while you giggled and twisted away, spreading the sauce in a stripe across your cheek. “Ha! Gotcha!” he cheered, licking the last of it from his thumb.

“You’ll regret this, Chalamet,” you replied, wrinkling up your nose and poking him in the chest.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” He wiggled his eyebrows and locked you between him and the counter with his arms.

You ducked below his arm and slipped free. “Because, I’m going to use ALL the garlic! Not only that, but then I’m going to make you kiss me ALL night,” you replied smugly as you spread the fresh garlic cloves evenly across your flatbread.

Timotheé whined loudly behind you as he pulled a paper towel from the roll. “Ruuuuude. But fair is fair, I suppose.” He grinned, wiping the sauce from your face. “You’re much less intimidating without your Italian war paint.”

You giggled, standing up on your tiptoes to peck his lips before returning your attention to the ingredients before you. You opted for a few slices of fresh mozzarella, some basil, and a sprinkling of olives. Once you finished, you popped into the preheated oven. You caught Tim singing softly, his body moving to the music playing from your phone as he happily assembled his own pizza. A wave of adoration for the lanky boy washed over you, and you wandered over to wrap your arms around his middle.

“Hi,” he chuckled, patting your arm while his eyes fretted about to choose what flavor combo struck him that evening.

“Hi,” you hummed happily, watching him intently as he piled on more and more. “There’s no way you’re going to eat all of that!”

“We never eat two pizzas! We need to have people over on pizza night,” he replied, turning around, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands.

“I guess we are all the way moved in now and could do that,” you thought aloud, swinging your clasped hands. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Well, I was talking to C/S about coming over for drinks sometime this week. Maybe we could invite her,” he suggested casually, releasing your hands to put his own flatbread into the oven.

Of course.

You felt your elated mood drop sharply upon the mention of her name. The media had erupted with excitement when it was announced that they would be working together, and, as always, the fans began “shipping” them right away. Now, you’d been trying very, VERY hard to not feel insecure about all of it, and Timotheé always assured you that the relationship was strictly professional. While you had learned to brush off the media’s intense assumptions, it was hard to ignore it coming directly from the source. He often came home with wild stories that seemed to all circulate around her, even mentioning pet names they’d developed for each other. He knew you were sensitive about it, but it felt like he didn’t even try to hold back. You tried so hard to ignore your insecurities. You knew he would never sneak around on you, that this was just how co-stars interacted, and he was just one of those magnetic people who makes close friends rather quickly. But no matter what you told yourself, the little, green monster in you refused to let it go.

“Oh,” you replied dumbly, cursing yourself for letting it slip.

Timotheé turned around, his brow furrowed. “Oh?”

“I just- I mean don't you think that would be kind of awkward? Just the three of us?”

“Nah. She’s been wanting to meet you, remember?” Could he really not see what was going on?

“I don't know… Don’t you want to just.. be home? I mean you see her all day, right?” You cringed, hearing how blatantly jealous you sounded.

“Oh, babyyyyy. This isn’t about her at all is it? Are you jealous?” he cooed with a grin, cupping your cheek. He clearly found this all very amusing.

You pulled away, feeling horribly embarrassed. “I’m not jealous! I just figured you’d want some time to yourself,” you insisted, busying yourself by checking in the oven.

“Ahhh, you are! Look how blushed your cheeks are! Somebody has a crush on meeee,” he sang, hugging you tightly from behind.

“Timmy, stop it,” you choked, suddenly on the brink of tears. You were humiliated.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey, love, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” His demeanor completely switched, turning you around to look at him. Worry filled his features, making you crack. Like the flip of a switch, you were suddenly sobbing into his shirt, leaving him wholly confused and concerned. “Baby girl, what is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded.

You pulled back, wiping your eyes harshly. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” The timer chimed and you turned around, pulling dinner from the oven.

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Just tell me what is going on- Is this about C/S?” he pressed, his hands gently rubbing up and down your arms.

You sniffled, turning around to face him. God, he was a saint. He was nearly in tears himself as he fought to understand what could possibly have you this upset. You took a deep breath, trying to find the least confrontational way to express what you were feeling. “I-I just.. I’m having a hard time with everything this time, for some reason. I just feel like maybe she’s new and more exciting, and you’d rather have her around than me.” You felt even more ridiculous saying it out loud, but you couldn’t deny your own insecurities.

Timmy shook his head, clearly pained by your words. He pulled you into his chest, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Mon amour, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way. I’d choose to have you around over anyone in this entire world, you know that right?”

You sighed, letting out a weak laugh. “Yes, I do. I just have such a hard time believing it sometimes.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “The only reason I reacted the way I did was because I can’t even imagine loving someone the way that I love you; it’s a whole other breed of love. I can’t imagine you being jealous over little, ole me,” he laughed, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Ugh, stop being so perfect,” you groaned with a smile, hiding your face in his shoulder. It was amazing the way he could soothe your worries in a matter of sentences.

“No, god, don't say that.” He shook his head, holding you close with one hand tucked securely at the nape of your neck. “And trust me when I tell you…” He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing over the shell of your ear. “No one excites me like you do.”

You shivered at his change in tone, peering up at him with flushed cheeks. “Yeah?”

He held your face, tilting his head as he captured your lips with his in a kiss so tender you thought you might faint. His tongue skipped across your bottom lip, lightly tugging it between his teeth. “Absolutely,” he breathed. “Let me show you?”

You blushed darkly, giving him a nod. He took your hand and tugged you off to your bedroom, dinner forgotten for the moment. You let him push you into bed and pull your leggings down your legs while you made quick work of your shirt, leaving you in a lacy bralette and matching panties. He groaned at the sight, his head falling against your stomach before looking up at you. “You don’t even know what you do to me; it’s so unfair.” His voice was low and needy, making you ache.

You laughed softly, sitting up to pull off his shirt. He cupped your face and kissed you deeply before you could get distracted with him. He wanted you to know that this was all for you tonight. He sucked on your lower lip, asking for entrance. You happily obliged, releasing soft sounds of pleasure into his mouth. He seemed to have this way of kissing you that made you feel all of his attention and adoration for you. No one had ever made you feel the way he did, and that’s why the thought of losing him to another terrified you so much. You hoped that he felt the same flips in his stomach for you.

“Come back to me,” he whispered gently, sensing your overthinking as though you were saying it out loud. You met his eyes, so full of love and concern. “I will spend every day of my life convincing you- I intend to, if you’ll have me.” He pressed kisses to your forehead, nose, chin, and travelled down your neck.

“Yes. Please,” you responded breathlessly. “I need you.”

Feeling just as needy, Timothee slipped out of his sweats and boxers, settling between your thighs and wrapping your legs around himself. He carefully pressed into your warmth, his eyes fluttering closed as you clenched around him. You would never tire of watching him feel good, no matter the form. He wore every emotion like an old cardigan that swallowed him whole. He brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek as he bottomed out, your hands roaming his chest and tangling into his precious curls.

“Let me love you.” Your heart just about broke. He was nearly pleading with you.

“Forever,” you replied, pulling him to your lips. Your bodies rocked as one, breathy moans and sighs bouncing off of the ceiling back to your ears to make you shiver. You felt foolish for ever doubting him. His mouth abused your neck, setting your bones ablaze with pleasure.

He quickly found himself becoming too excited, so he slowed and carefully pulled out. You watched him curiously, realization settling over you as he lowered his mouth to trail kisses down the valley between your breasts to your stomach and down between your legs. He eyed you as he circled your sensitive bud with his tongue, watching you moan out his name and lose your hands in your hair. You rocked your hips against his tongue. Always eager to give, Timothee reveled in every second of your pleasure until you were falling apart against his mouth and fingers.

Panting heavily, you pulled him back up to you and kissed him feverishly. His back was against the headboard as you sat in his lap, grinding your hips against his. Few words were spoken, but confessions slipped from you both as you held one another close. You reached between your bodies and slid him back into you. You both sighed in ecstasy. “You feel like… you were made just for me,” you breathed, beginning to lift yourself up and drop back down into his lap.

He cursed, watching your every movement with intensity. “I was.” You both got lost in each other, kissing and touching every inch within your reach.

“I’m close, amour,” he soon whined, head lolled back as he gazed up at you and his hands gripped your hips. You were both covered in a sheen of sweat, leaving his face glittering and breathtaking as always.

“Me too. So close,” you whimpered. You increased your pace, his hips rising to meet you now and hitting you just right. You tensed suddenly, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Timothee moaned against your collarbone, whispering sweet nothings and holding you close. He came soon after, spilling his love inside of you with stuttering thrusts. His hands slid across your spine as he trembled in the afterglow.

“I love you, my girl. Only you, forever,” he panted softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. A shy smile tugged on his lips, making you melt.

“Je t’aime, Timo.” You kissed his forehead, content to stay right there in his embrace forever.

#timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet x reader #timotheé chalamet #timotheé chalamet imagine #timotheé chalamet fluff #timotheé chalamet x reader #timotheé chalamet smut #drabble #request #smut #oneshot #imagine #confusednarcissistwrites

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darthkruge · 4 years

Text

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Life Day

Summary: Spending Life Day with Anakin. Also, let’s pretend I’m better at titles than I am.

Warnings: Language and fluff, y’all.

Words: 2.1k

A/N: We’re all going to pretend that there is ice skating in Coruscant. Because there should be. Also, Happy Holidays to all of you lovely people. Thank you for supporting me and being my friends <3

“Come on!!” You said, trying to pull your boyfriend up.

“Y/N...” Anakin groaned, “Come back to bed, it’s early and cold!”

Normally, on days you both had off, you’d concede and spend the remainder of your time lounging in each other’s arms. But today was Life Day! You’ve always loved the snow and it was the first Life Day since you and Ani started dating, you weren’t going to waste it.

“Anakin Skywalker! You are going to get out of bed this instant and spend the day with me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I know, I can see the future.” You joked.

Anakin quirked one of his eyebrows, slightly opening his eyes to look at you. “Hmmm… well, if you’re so good at predicting things, how come you didn’t predict this-”

You squealed as you felt yourself lifted off the ground, the Force pulling you right back into bed. You, however, were having none of it. You immediately jumped back up and away from Anakin’s inviting, warm embrace, knowing that if you caved you’d never leave.

“Come on!” You repeated, dragging out the last word.

Anakin threw his head back against the pillows dramatically. “Fine” He was never able to say no to you and you both knew it. If something had the slightest chance of making you happy, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

You cheered as you successfully pulled him out of bed. You quickly threw his robes at him, his boots in your other hand.

Anakin chuckled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

You just jumped up and down happily as he finished getting ready.

“Alright, come on, love. Where do you want to go?”

“The town!! I want to walk around, look at shit, I dunno! Just- let’s go!”

Your energy was contagious and, before long, the two of you were skipping down the Coruscant streets. Anakin insisted on taking alleyways whenever possible; he wanted to amuse you but didn’t exactly want another Council member to see him grinning like an idiot and laughing hysterically in his secret relationship in the middle of town. You didn’t mind. As long as he was here with you, you didn’t care.

After walking for another few minutes, you came to an abrupt stop.

“Hey!” Anakin yelped, almost smacking into you. “What the-”

You held up your hand and started pointing excitedly. “Ani, look! Ice skating!! We have to!”

He took one look at you, eyes lit up from excitement and smile bigger than he’s ever seen, and was sold.

He took your hand and led the two of you to the ice rink. You both laced up your skates, walked onto the ice, and immediately death-gripped the wall.

“So, Y/N, want to show me how to do this?”

“... I thought you would show me how to do this”

“Why did you assume I knew how to ice skate?!”

“I don’t know! You just- You know things I expected you’d get this! Or like, use the Force or something!”

“You’re the one who suggested this!” Anakin laughed, smiling and shaking his head at your current predicament. The both of you were basically glued to the side of the rink, shuffling forward slowly like two drunk penguins.

You started laughing, too. You couldn’t help it. Eventually, after spending the next fifteen minutes getting more comfortable with it, you decided to take a risk and only hold on with one hand.

“Ani, look! I’m doing it!” You were giddy from excitement.

Anakin chuckled lightly. He loved seeing you like this, so care-free and joyous.

You came upon a slightly rough spot of ice and skid for a moment, your hand going out to brace you in case you fell. Anakin, ever heroic, jumped into action.

He called your name and let go of the side of the rink, trying to get to you so you could hold onto him. Emphasis on trying. Instead, he pushed off the side of the rink, was completely unstable, and landed flat on his ass.

Since it was only a slight skid, you were able to right yourself pretty quickly and without help. So you were pretty surprised when you heard an“Ow!” from behind you.

You turned around and let out an involuntary laugh. Your boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker, powerful and renowned Jedi, was sitting on the floor of the rink, ice in his hair, pouting.

You shuffled back to him and held out a hand. “Are you alright, Ani?” You said, hand coming to comb through his hair.

Anakin sighed dejectedly and took your hand, face still red from embarrassment.

“...Yeah”

“You’re an idiot, you know that right?”

“I thought you were going to fall!” He grumbled.

“Anakin, it was like a two second skid, I would have been fine!” You laughed

“I just wanted to protect you”

You looked at him gently. It was true and you knew it. All he’s ever tried to do is protect you. “I know, baby, I know. You’re still moronic, though. But I love you for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep moving, L/N”

You chuckled. “Nice, Skywalker.”

After exiting the rink, you took his hand and walked back to the bench to return your skates. You felt him staring at you.

“Stop that”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Yeah! You’re like… looking at me”

Anakin laughed. “So I’m allowed to date you but I can’t look at you? That’ll complicate things”

You playfully smacked his chest. He led you behind the rink and away from prying eyes and, as you tried to squirm away, his arms came around you and he pulled you in for a kiss. You tasted the frost on his breath, making the sensation of his warm lips even more inviting. You lost yourself in the taste of him, in the feel of his tongue and lips against your own.

You separated for a second, breath mingling as you looked at him. His eyes were soft, snowflakes nestled in his gorgeous hair. His hands cupped your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones.

“Hi” You said softly.

“You’re incredible” He replied, reconnecting his mouth with yours. You sighed into him, fingers weaving into his hair as his hands grabbed your waist. You were grinning into the kiss and so was he, your emotions connected as your energies fed off each other. You were so attuned to the other that it was indescribable. You didn’t even need to talk, you simply understood. Understood each other’s minds, bodies, and souls. That level of intimacy- it was all you’d ever wanted.

“Want to head back?” He asked quietly. Even though you had broken apart from your embrace, Anakin kept his voice low. It was as if everything he said was special, just for you.

You nodded and picked up his arm, settling it around your shoulder as you put yours around his waist. As you finally returned to your apartment, the two of you flopped onto the bed. The day had exhausted you in the best way. You felt at peace, loved, cherished, and, for once, safe.

“Did you enjoy our first Life Day together, my love?”

You hummed in content, lacing your fingers with his, twisting to look up at him from your current position. He was sitting against the headboard and you were lying with your back to his chest. His arms wound around your from behind and you rested your hands atop his, absentmindedly running your fingers across his metal ones.

“I have something for you”

“Anakin, I thought we said no gifts!”

“I know, I know. But I love you and I couldn’t resist.”

He reached into his bed-side table drawer and pulled out a beautiful hand carved pendant. It had the symbol from your home planet on one side and a symbol for Coruscant on the other. You gasped at its beauty, eyeing the intricate details he must have spent hours perfecting.

“Anakin-” You breathed out. “It’s gorgeous, thank you!”

“I wanted it to represent your past and your future. I mean, well, what I hope is your future. I want to spend my life with you. I know the Council forbids it but I am so hopelessly in love with you,” He took a breath, letting his words hang for a moment. “Y/N L/N, what I’m trying to say is that I want you to be my future.”

“I want you to be my future too,” You said, pulling the pendant around your neck. It sat beautifully against your skin and you twirled it around. Seeing your old planet’s symbol, you were reminded of where you grew up. You reminisced, realizing that this feeling of happiness was all your childhood self wanted. As you looked at Coruscant, at its symbol, at the beautiful boy behind you, you were filled with this immense warmth.

You had a home.

“I’m sorry for breaking our no-presents rule, my love.” He mumbled in your ear, gently kissing your temple. You leaned into him.

“It’s alright. I broke it too.” You said sheepishly. Anakin laughed. Of course you did.

You pulled out a poorly wrapped package and plopped it down on the bed. He smiled and you could tell he was excited, even though he didn’t let on to it. Anakin was always surprised when you did something for him even though you told him a million times that you loved him and you wanted to be there for him, just like he was for you. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you loved him; Maker, there was no doubting your love for each other, it was just that he was always taking care of everyone else. He frequently forgot it went both ways. You, however, were determined to remind him.

Anakin unwrapped the present and just stared at it in shock for a moment. You fidgeted with your hands, wondering if something was wrong. Tentatively, you called his name, bringing him back to the present. He looked up at you and tears had filled his eyes.

Your eyes widened. “Anakin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep, I’m so, so sorry-”

He cut you off by pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. You held onto him and rubbed your hands up and down his back, unsure of what was going on.

He pulled away and looked deeply into your eyes. “Y/N, I love it.”

“Really?”

“Baby, it’s perfect.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Kriff, Anakin! You worried me for a second!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just... processing. I can’t believe you went and made this for me, it must have taken hours!”

You looked at the painting you’d done of Shmi and Anakin at about 8 years old. She was ruffling the sand out of his hair and he was scowling, but clearly appreciative. You always remembered how his eyes lit up when he talked of his mother. You wished, more than anything, that they’d had more time together.

“I’ve been taking art lessons for a while now and I wanted to do this for you. I know you loved her and how she gave you such moments of goodness in your overall not-so-great childhood. And I hated that you had no tangible reminder of her.” You gestured to the painting, hoping it conveyed the rest of your point.

“How did you-” Anakin was still trying to wrap his head around it. He was so moved, so touched that you valued him this much. He still had some trouble opening up. After being taught for so long to just push it down and suppress his feelings, he was afraid to share those emotions. And now, you come along and don’t just want to listen, you encourage him to talk. He genuinely feels like you care and, honestly, it’s a bit overwhelming.

“Obi-Wan helped a bit… He dug through some old records, turns out they recorded a bit from when Qui-Gon and he went to Tatooine and met you all those years ago. He let me see it and it just gave me the inspiration I needed. And the rest of the details I filled in based on what you’d told me. I know how much she means to you, Ani. I’m just so glad you like it.”

Anakin looks at you with such love you think it’ll tear you open. “I adore you. Thank you, Y/N, truly. This is- you are everything.”

“Come here,” You pulled Anakin back into your arms and rocked him back and forth in your embrace. He nuzzled closer to you and you smiled. It seemed you did end up spending Life Day in each other’s arms after all.

------

i just made a taglist so if you want to join...

permanent tags:

@saltybreaddream

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @chokemeanakin @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @gayidioot @adamgetawaydriver

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #anakin x gender neutral reader #anakin x gn!reader

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babyboy-cody · 4 years

Note

Hey, you probably won't see this but I see that your request are still open. May I request one with the foursome? they are Neglecting the reader like making excuses to not spend time with her or not making love to her but she hears them making love to each other. They all decided to go to a fancy party they left the reader at the bar by herself when she ready to go home she sees them flirting with another girl calling her pet names and she sees Jim kissing her and touching her. The reader goes home crying her eyes out thinking they don't love her and she becomes depressed the more they keep neglecting her the more she becomes depressed and they notice and they try to make things right with her. I know this is long u don’t have to write it. This idea has been on my mind for a while.

oh this completely broke me :(( i’m gonna make this extremely angsty so FAIR WARNING. this will not have a happy ending,,,,,, i’m mean that way >:) this is gonna be vvveeeeerrrryyyyy looonnnggggggg.

word count: 6,249 fucking words

You’re not sure how long it’s been; days, weeks, maybe months. Somehow, in some way, it felt like an eternity. Without their touch, you weren’t sure how to keep yourself grounded and away from the darkness etched in your mind. Without simple praises falling from their lips like a soft melody, you weren’t sure how to build yourself up when you’re constantly falling down. Without their beautiful eyes set on you as if you were the most precious diamond in the entire world, you weren’t sure how to even feel worthy again. All you felt was pain - that deep, emotional, excruciating pain that seemed to follow you everywhere you went, whether you liked it or not. This was hell for you. You’re not sure what you did to end up in your own personal hell, but this was it. And you wanted to get out one way or another.

This loneliness is a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It kills you everyday just a little bit more, taking what was once your inner light and replacing it with a darkness that overshadows each moment. It is the fuel of your nightmares, the reason you struggle to breathe when a new shock comes. Where is the limit? When comes the point at which dogs are called off and the help begins? Because you need to know; you really need to know.

Today was like no other. It was just a repetitive cycle like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. You tried desperately to get something from them; a hug, a kiss, a pat on the back, a fucking handshake. You needed them so that it quells your mind that they don’t want you anymore, that they have no need to keep you around. It was pure torture.

Duncan was lounging in the living room, knocking back a small glass of his favorite Whiskey - one that you bought for him that traveled all the way from Sweden. His eyes were trained on the television mounted above the fireplace, his feet propped up on the glass table and crossed at the ankles. He didn’t turn his head when you entered, but you noticed his shoulders tensed as if he were holding his breath.

“Dunc?” You quietly spoke. “Um.. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tonight? Just you and me?” You were fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit they all stopped you from continuing, but you picked it up again. You scraped at the skin in the corners of your fingernails and barely reacted when you looked down and saw blood.

“Can’t,” was his response.

“Oh..” you whispered, feeling your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach as your neck and cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “M-May I ask why?”

“I’m busy, Y/N,” he sighs and does the thing when he’s frustrated and rubs his hand over his jaw.

You nodded wordlessly, swallowing down a small whimper of emotional pain and left the living room. When you got to the hallway, you pressed your back against the wall and hid your face in your hands. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” you hissed to yourself, feeling that little tickle in your nostrils and the lump in your throat getting larger and more painful. You sniffled and stared at your feet. Your vision was getting increasingly blurry, the moments of Duncan’s rejection etched in your mind, mocking you for being so pathetic. “No, I’m not,” you whimpered. So very pathetic.

When you were able to calm down again, you gently wiped away your tears and hiccuped a few shaky breaths. Trudging up the steps slowly, you felt a bit of hope when you heard Michael in his office, wondering if he was typing away at his computer as always. You walked the agonizingly long hallway, twiddling your fingers again. You heard his quiet laughter, followed by the low hum of his voice, although you couldn't make out what he was saying or who was talking to. You knocked three times and slowly pushed the door open, gasping softly as you witnessed what was in front of you.

Jim was wearing one of his baggy college sweaters which was bunched at the bottom around his hips. He sat on Michael's lap straddling him, the same way you would always do. Their lips were locked in a deep kiss, Jim's moans so soft and barely a whisper. You felt a sick feeling in your stomach when you noticed how naked he was below. How long has it been since Jim and Michael touched you? Duncan? At this point, you couldn't even remember when the last time was.

Feeling a presence behind you, you sharply turned and spotted Duncan. You blushed as he looked down at you. He got closer now, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his intoxicating cologne. He stepped into the doorway and into Michael's office. You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, wondering if they were going to invite you as well. You missed their pleasure filled touch. As you were about to step in as well, Duncan blocked whatever was left of the entrance with his body and the door, as he was holding onto the doorknob to avoid you coming in.

"Maybe next time," he told you in a monotone voice. And with that, he shut the door and locked it. Hearing that lock click so you wouldn't come in felt like a punch in the gut. You staggered back as if you were knocked in the face by Mike Tyson himself. Everything around you feels like it's going in slow motion. Your breathing sounds like an echo in your ears as you begin to hear a high pitched ringing. Your breathing is shallow and rapid, the early signs of an anxiety attack. You grabbed onto the wall as you begun to feel extremely dizzy.

"No, no, no, please no," you weakly cried out as you reached your room. "Not now. Not again." You felt so pathetic and weak. You slammed your door and hurried to your dresser as you began to wheeze, desperate to get in an even breath. You pulled out your inhaler, shaking it for a brief moment, popping the cap off and sticking the tube into your mouth to breath in the carbonated medicine. Almost instantly, you felt your lungs open up. You panted softly and outstretched your legs on the ground.

"What's wrong with me?" You weeped quietly, not able to hold in your cries anymore and finally letting the dam break. You're not sure what caused the change in your relationship, but you desperately wanted things to go back to normal.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You have always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift on by. You have always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remains like a veil over your skin, grey and cold. And as you watch the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there is only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sits like November rain on your skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time you would have spoken to the guys, asked for the warmth you needed to ward it off, just a little is enough. No longer. Now you just let it come, drop by drop and you feel like it's an ocean falling upon you instead of rain - that the grief of years you carefully suspended has all condensed right above your head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, you just don't care. You'll still be true to yourself, still help others, but you plan to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb.

When the tears weren't even half way done, you were empty. You couldn't have cried even if you wanted to. You hadn't experienced this feeling in a long time. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore – now it was an empty unhappiness - the kind you didn't think would easily lift. You felt like Michael, Duncan, or even Jim could surprise you with the cutest kitten on earth and you wouldn't feel a thing. You stared around yourself as if you were in a pit. Your surroundings were exactly the same, but they gave you no emotion. How could that be? You needed emotion to feel alive, to feel love.

There was a knock at your door, but you didn't respond. You continued staring out the window with a blank expression, your eyes dead and your lips in a slight frown. It was raining. You loved the rain. You remembered when you and Jim had ran outside one spring afternoon and jumped into puddles while laughter filled the air. If you focused your eyes well enough, you can probably see the raindrops sliding down the leaves.

"Y/N?" You felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. You sat in a daze, completely silent as rain continued to slap against the window. You looked at the hand and then up at the culprit. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"Hm.." you hummed low and looked around your surroundings. You looked back outside and breathed against the window, watching as frosty condensation forms on the glass. "Hi Jim."

The way you spoke worried Jim deeply. You spoke with zero emotion, as if you were a robot with no feelings at all. You had an empty look in your eyes when you looked up at him. He didn't even recognize you. Your reaction to his words were so delayed and monotonous. You were always so bright and bubbly and cheerful. But now, your responses were, "oh" "um" "hm.." "okay."

"We're going to a party tonight for Duncan's company. Michael wants us all to go, okay?" He told you, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his main focus was on you. "You down for dressing up all fancy?" He had a teasing tone in his voice, but you didn't react to it. All you said was, "Okay, Jim" in that same blank tone. He's not sure what was wrong with you, but he chose not to say much else. He nods wordlessly and leaves your room, not without sparing you one last glance, one that you didn't reciprocate. You still had that thousand yard stare out the window.

As he walks down the long steps, he hears soft murmurs of Michael and Duncan’s voice in the kitchen. When he enters, he smells the delicious steak Michael was currently cooking in a skillet pan. It sizzles and smokes, making his mouth instantly water. Duncan’s leaning against the counter adjacent to the blonde man, nursing down a glass of iced water with lemon - shockingly. They stop their conversation when Duncan notices Jim standing by the large kitchen island, his arms crossed and a wary look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Duncan immediately crosses over and placed his cold hands over his cheeks. “What’s got you looking so beaten up?”

“Something’s wrong with Y/N,” he quietly tells him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “She’s... different. Not good different. It’s just... different.”

“Different how?” Michael turned suddenly and seemed interested in the conversation.

“She just wasn’t... there. It was like she was out of it and it was fucking scary,” Jim practically whimpered. “Are you sure we should be doing this? I-I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”

“Listen, we all already agreed with it, so we might as well continue with the plan, alright? The least she can do is understand where we’re coming from,” Michael reasoned, lightly calming down the young man.

All three men prepared dinner while you sat in the bath tub with boiling hot water pouring onto like no other. Compared to the cold rain outside, this type of rainfall felt so fucking excruciating and peaceful. The pain etched all over your sensitive skin was what you needed. With your knees tucked to your chest and your chin resting on them, you stared ahead in a blank state, barely acknowledging how hot the water really was. You hummed quietly when there was a knock on the door, followed by the wooden barrier opening.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael hissed as he was immediately enveloped in hot steam, barely seeing the shower or himself in the large mirror beside him. “Y/N? Are you in here?” He spots your rumbled pile of clothes on the ground, and he sees your shadow behind the shower curtain. “What the fuck?” He rips open the shower curtain and takes note of your bright red skin. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” He furiously goes to shut off the water, yanking his head back as he briefly touches the scorching knob. He reaches down to grab your shirt, wrapping it around the knob to turn the water off completely.

“I like hot showers,” you mumbled and never removed your blank stare from the tiles in front of you. “They feel... they feel... hm... good.” You nodded to yourself.

Michael now knew what Jim was talking about. This robotic state you were in was something he has never seen before. He wrapped a soft towel around your extremely warm shoulders and helped you out of the tub - the way you moved was like you were working on autopilot. There was no smooth glide in your movements like you usually had. It was rocky and uncoordinated, almost robotic. You sat on the toilet seat, not caring of your nudity before Michael. You were usually shy and hid away with a blushing smile, something Michael always loved teasing you about. You would always swat at his hand when he would - so very gently - trace your stretch marks. You didn’t even look up at him as he dried you off.

“We’re going to a party tonight. I’m sure Jimmy told you the details, right?” He looked down at you for a response, but all you did was stare ahead emotionless and in silence. He clears his throat. “I got everyone clothes to wear, so I left yours on your bed. Dinner’s ready downstairs.”

“Not hungry,” you whispered just barely, but Michael heard you perfectly clear. “Just gonna go... lie down for a bit.” It was quiet again as you fully wrapped yourself in the towel. You nodded to yourself and hummed softly, slowly standing from your seat and walking passed Michael in a trance-like state. He watched in the hallway as you made your way to your room and shut the door without sparing him another glance. He sighed softly and looked back into the bathroom, the leftover heat now gone and replaced with a soft mist.

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The drive to the event/party felt like an eternity. You sat in the backseat with Jim. All three men spoke to one another while Duncan drove. You were looking out the window, your eyes moving frantically to watch the street lamps pass by in a flash. You counted quietly to yourself with each car that passed. So far there’s been two cars every four minutes, so it seems. Jim was keeping an eye on you, watching as your lips moved like you were lip syncing to a song in your head. But it looked like your lips were barely parting to form a coherent word. It just looked like whispers, as if you were telling secrets to someone of the unknown. You looked down at your nails and scraped at the peeling skin. So pathetic.

“No,” you mumbled. “No, no, no.” Your voice was so quiet that a pin dropping can even be heard. You’re not sure when the guys ended their conversation or when the car stopped, but a hand touching your elbow pulled you from your thoughts.

“We’re here,” Duncan told you with a tight lipped smile, one that was obviously fake and strained.

You carefully exited the SUV, being careful of the bottom of your silky, champagne colored dress. You tightened the slip around your shoulders and chest when Michael wrapped an arm around your back to lead you towards the entrance. There were lots of people, too many people. The noise. The loud noise. It’s too loud. So very loud; the overexcited laughing, the clinking and scraping of metal silverware against delicate glass, the boisterous music. It’s so fucking loud. You winced when a man’s shoulder roughly knocked into yours when he was in a deep conversation with another man. This was a bad idea, so very bad. You turned to tell Michael that you were already not liking this, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jim or Duncan. All three of them somehow disappeared and left you in the crowd.

You stifled a whimper and bit your bottom lip as you desperately stood on your tippy toes to try to look over the heads of so many business men, business women, or anyone in between. They bumped into you, not caring to apologize. You heard that familiar ringing in your ears again. All the noise you heard, all the laughter and music and conversation, sounded like it was in a tunnel. That echo that seemed so far away. You spotted a bar in the corner of the main hall and hurried over, silently thanking whoever was above when the seats were empty. The bartender acknowledged you and gave you a nod.

“What can I get you?” He leaned in close to hear you, a small hand towel resting on his shoulder.

“Um.. a strawberry lemonade, please?” You quietly told him, still looking back in hopes of spotting your men, hoping that they spotted you as well.

You can hear the sloshing of ice as the bartender made your drink. You were nervously picking at your fingers again, your face set in a grimace at the amount of people pouring in. You felt sick in your stomach. You felt... alone. Your drink was set on a napkin in front of you, all pretty and a mix of pink and red. You thanked him so very softly that he had to lean in to hear you. You reached into your small clutch and pulled out a $20. “Keep the rest,” you told him and took a small sip.

“I appreciate it, miss.” He gave you a smile and moved on to an eager and very drunk customer at the end of the bar.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, pulling at the thin protective skin with your teeth, barely wincing from the sting. Your eyes were frantically scanning the entire room, trying to see that familiar head of long blonde hair of Michael, of that neatly styled hair of Duncan, or that soft fringe of Jim. You sighed defeatedly and looked down at your drink, feeling so very unworthy and unwanted as laughter echoed all around you. Why did you even come? You knew it was pointless, didn’t you?

“What did I do wrong?” You whispered so weakly to yourself, resting your elbow on the bar top as your forehead rests on your hand. “Fucking stupid.”

Your drink was almost empty as you swirled your ice around with your striped paper straw. The little paper umbrella toothpick was discarded neatly on a napkin. You swiped your fingers on the condensation left from your glass. You drew a small smiley face, but soon wiped it away with the napkin. You looked up to do one last sweep with your eyes when suddenly, you saw the back of Michael’s head. You knew it was him because of the dark red velvet suit jacket he was wearing. Beside him was Duncan, and both men were grinning and talking to someone in front of them. You hoped it was Jim. And it was Jim. But they weren’t alone.

Clinging to his arm stood a pretty woman, so dainty and bright, yet there was a certain fire to her that you didn’t have. You watched as she probably said something snarky to Michael that had him throwing his head back in a laugh. Duncan was grinning like a cat that got the cream. Jim was staring her down like a hungered man. Then, it happened. It was so fast, but it felt like slow motion as it repeats over and over and over and over again in your head. She was clutching onto his tie, pulling him down desperately as they kissed so deeply, with such passion you haven’t had in so long. What hurt the most was that Duncan and Michael watched. They had grins on their faces, the same ones they had when Jim would do the same to you. You swallowed down a gasp as your eyes watered. You read Michael’s lips as he spoke to her. All you can make out was, “Dove.” That was your name. You can feel an ache spread from your chest to your stomach and back up to your chest. You covered your mouth to stifle an excruciating cry.

The pain increased with every step you took towards the exit. You held the bottom of your dress to not trip over, your tears warm and quick down your cheeks, for sure leaving mascara tracks. You hurried down the steps and turned the corner, passing through the beautiful garden you failed to notice earlier. When you were out of sight from other people, you dropped to your knees and pressed your hands into the grass. Your shoulders shook as you desperately tried to breathe, but every time you breathed it was a painful gasp and hiccup.

“Why? Why? Why? Why me? Why? What did I do? What did I do wrong, God? Please, tell me, why?” You cried and brought your hands together in a praying motion, crying up at the sky above. “Please, tell me! And I’ll change! Just tell me, why?”

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Self control is a finite resource because the part of the brain exerting control gets tired - it requires energy and that gets depleted. So, the repressing of anger needs careful thought. If it is boiling up, how will it be cooled? If it explodes, whom bares the brunt? Because they psyche under seige will naturally seek a more vulnerable (hence "safe") person to explode at. Stress bubbles down to less dominant people in a society where the more powerful have reduced ability to handle their anger and stress. Thus, how you deal with your anger is vital. It is as steam in a pressure cooker, you have to find a way to let it out in a safe manner. That can be through physical activity or by finding inner peace, or often a combination of the two. Sport releases the need for self control, finding inner peace expands your endurance and ability for self control. As such, they are a winning combination.

But now.. you’re not sure you have that same self control you had a while back. You felt nothing, hence you did nothing. You just laid there hoping that it’ll pass. Feeling empty and feeling tired have such a strong connection to one another that you need to fully rest before you can figure out what is what. But even rest is tiring. There is a silence to your soul; you’re fall leaves under frost. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. Part of it is a pain, yet one you can endure, one you can sleep through night after night without the anaesthesia of false hope. This is your winter; you wait for spring and the chattering of the birds. But it never comes.

It’s been a month. One whole month since you’ve witnessed the cause of your shattered heart. It wasn’t broken and able to piece back together. It was completely shattered into dust. You relived in constantly in your conscious and unconscious state. It replayed like a broken record over and over and over again. The moment was in your dreams, nightmares, and thoughts. When you had gotten home that night, you stood in complete silence before finally uttering that long, heart-wrenching scream that strained your vocal cords. You had fallen to the ground, unable to keep yourself standing any longer and screamed and screamed and screamed until you couldn’t scream anymore. You were already in bed by the time the guys had gotten home. Only Jim called your phone, but you let it ring. They didn’t check up on you. They just left you there, broken.

You lie awake in bed, watching as the rain fell and pelted against the window in a gently melody. It brought your spirits just slightly, but it soon washed away in an instant. You contemplated on taking your medication again, the ones that made you feel good, but you’d rather punish yourself with this overpowering feeling of emptiness. You didn’t deserve to feel good. You deserved the pain thrown at you emotionally.

You’re not sure what time it was, but there was still light out. It couldn’t be no more than two in the afternoon. You heard clatter coming from downstairs, followed by a mix of deep voices. You continued staring out the window, wishing you were enveloped in nothing but darkness. There was a knock at your door, following the small creak of it opening. Well, this was a first.

“Dove?” Michael quietly called out. “Are you awake?”

He watched as your breathing was steady, your back facing him as you were huddled underneath the covers. You didn’t respond to him, but you knew that he knew you were awake. He sighed quietly and stepped around your bed to get closer to you, sitting on the edge of the bed to lower the covers in order to see you.

You didn’t look at him, instead keeping your eyes on the window with a blank expression. He noticed the really dark circles under your eyes and your sickly complexion. He noticed how much weight you’ve lost, and he wondered when was the last time you ate. He hadn’t seen you in the kitchen in so long because it was Jim who tried to coax you to join them for breakfast and dinner.

“Come downstairs and eat,” he told you, tugging on your arm gently, but you slowly pulled it away and tucked it under the covers again. He frowned.

“Not hungry,” you hoarsely whispered. “Just go away, Michael.” You shut your eyes as a small tear rolled down your temple. “Please... just leave.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but his attention turned to the doorway where Jim and Duncan stood. They both shook their heads as the youngest of the two frantically waved his hand in a “come here” motion. Michael glanced at you one last time and stood up with a small sigh. When he left the room and shut the door, they all stood in a small circle.

“She’s getting worse,” Duncan mumbled and rubbed his jaw frustratedly.

“I knew this was a bad fucking idea, Michael,” Jim hissed. “I never wanted to do this. You wanted to do this. And we were so stupid to go along with it because you made us believe that we needed something new in our lives.”

“It was a suggestion, Jim,” Michael told him, holding a hand out to calm the frantic man. “I just thought -”

“Yeah,” Jim cut him off. “You thought it would make things better. Now look at her. She’s fucking falling apart because of us.” He whimpered and pressed his hands against his eyes to roughly rub his tears away.

He walked away in a hurry, mentally beating himself up for falling victim to Michael’s words. What was he thinking? Needing something new? He didn’t need new, he needed you. When he kissed and flirted and had his hands on that girl, all he was thinking about was you. He wasn’t thinking how bad the outcome could’ve been.

Duncan stared at Michael silently with his arms crossed. “We need to make this right,” he told the blonde man. “This was a reckless and unthinkable thing we could’ve done, and now we’re paying the price.”

“I know,” Michael mumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted our relationship to take a next level of something exciting.”

“Exciting?” Duncan scoffed. “We pushed her away. We neglected her constantly. We haven’t touched her, let alone kissed her in, what, almost two months? It’s just... we should’ve brought her into the loop as well.”

“I know,” Michael stressed. “Look, we’ll fix this. We always do.”

Except, the damage was already done. There was nothing too fix. You were a hallow shell of a human, of what was left of you. You were nothing but a faint, forgotten memory.

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You rest eyes upon the leaves, fluttering in the garden. In the light of day you could never tell of the storm they had suffered the night before, of the winds that howled and tore their brethren from branches to ground. They reflected the soft sun rays, gave off their colors with that quiet joy nature sings of, that silent music you love to hear. Yet you also saw the plucked leaves, swirling in the gusting wind, the subtle “tells” of the hardship only recently passed. In that moment you wondered what people would make of you. Would they see “tells” of your storm? The way your eyes were slow and mouth heavy at the corners? Would they see the tears un-cried? And if they did, if they saw that emotional debris, knowing how the grief hurricane returns over and over, would they shine for you like the sun on the trees or treat you like you were on the other side of glass, ensuring that your storm never chilled their own skin, much less clipped at their souls. You wondered.

Tightening your chunky cardigan over your body as a chill passed, you smiled and closed your eyes as you smelled the freshly cut grass and rainwater. Everything was peaceful, as it should be. Your bare feet was buried in the soft tuts of bright green grass, your toes wiggling as you giggled at the tickling sensation. Afternoon crickets chirped and birds sung sweet songs in the trees. You felt at peace with yourself. Michael, Duncan, and Jim were away. You’re not sure where, but they had left a note telling you the time they should be back. The trunk and backseat of your car were filled with boxes and trash bags of your things. It was time to let go and be free, as much as it pained you to do so. As much as you tried to forget about that incident, it was tattooed in the back of your mind permanently.

You entered the house and shut the back door, making sure it was locked and the window shades were down. You walked around slowly, savoring the last of moments inside. Every room you were in, you remembered something good or bad that happened. Every moment of passionate love making, every laugh, every argument, every cry, every kiss. You would be forever grateful in in experiencing these things because without it, you weren’t sure how strong you’d be compared to now.

You heard the small beep of the alarm unlocking and the front door opening. You swallowed down a small, nervous breath and nodded to yourself. Everything’s going to be okay, you thought. You entered the large dining room where the three stood. Jim looked defeated, Duncan looked confused, and Michael... he looked broken.

“We saw your car...” Duncan began, but Jim cut him off instantly.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled softly and took a tiny step forward, shuffling his feet side to side, not knowing what to do in this moment.

“Um... I’m leaving,” you quietly told them. “I did a lot of thinking these passed two months and I’ve come to a realization that I’m not cut out for this.” Michael opened his mouth to speak up, but you held a hand out to silence him. “Listen to me, please. I loved you, all of you. I loved and I gave and I was taken for granted. And the only person to build myself back up again was... me.”

“Why are you talking like this so suddenly?” Michael spoke up, brows furrowing as he struggled to understand your words.

“I saw what happened, at the party. And I know that, maybe, I wasn’t someone you wanted and I know how difficult I can be and I know I have some unresolved issues I need to work on to become better,” your voice cracked and you sniffled as your looked down at your hands with blurry eyes. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“No,” Duncan whispered brokenly. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He angrily shook his head, eyes blazing with a building rage. “You-You can’t leave.”

“Duncan,” you whispered softly and stepped up to him, resting your hands on his scruffy cheeks as a lonesome tear rolls down, pooling over your thumbs. “I have to go. You have to let me go.”

He shook his head as the dam finally breaks. “No...” His voice was completely broken, eyes filled with so much pain and anger. “Please...”

You stepped away and sniffled. You looked over at Jim and gave him a sad smile. His bottom lip was trembling so badly that he had to bite down on it to make it stop. He was rubbing the back of his neck continuously, a tell tale sign of frustration and panic.

“Jimmy,” you quietly said. “You’re gonna have to let me go as well, okay? Can you do that for me?”

He shook his head and exhaled a shuddering breath. “I-I can’t... I...” He couldn’t even speak. He just stared at you in desperation, wishing and hoping that you’d change your mind and stay with them like you all promised.

And finally, you looked at Michael - the first man you ever loved and who introduced you to Duncan and Jim. You would forever be thankful that you had the opportunity to fall in love with these men, but sadly, these opportunities must come to an end.

“What can I do to make things right, dove?” He begged, something he’s never done before and it’s such a shock to you. “Tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing that can be done to make things right, Michael,” you told him gently as you shook your head. “I think this was the final straw that I really needed to get out, and I really hope that you all have a good life ahead of you. I love you and I always will love you deep down in my heart, and I’ll never forget you three.” You gave them a sad smile. “I guess this is goodbye,” your voice cracked just a little bit.

You looked at them one last time before moving through the hallway and towards the front door. You swung the strap of your bag around your shoulder and dug inside for your keys. You pulled out the house key from the ring and placed it on the small table that had a stack of mail, a little bowl with Jim and Duncan’s keys, a long vase with lilies - your favorite flower, and a picture. It was of you, Duncan, Jim, and Michael the minute you all had moved in. There were bright smiles on your faces, even Michael. Things were so much better back then; when things were simpler. You heard faint crying coming from the dining room, and you wondered who it was, if you should go back to console them. But you knew if you did, you would stay.

As you left the house, you studied it with a small smile. You’ll never forget the endless memories inside and out. This wasn’t just a house, it was a home. “Goodbye, home,” you whispered and placed your hand on the banister.

After the long days of being so alone, the pain ebbed. You thought you would feel the knives in your back forever, the long blades slicing into such sensitive flesh. There were days your brain felt electrocuted, so violently defocused and the pain, the emotional pain, was all so encompassing you simply existed as a matter of will power. They say people come out of these things stronger, and you guess that's true, but you come out wiser too. You still have your loving heart, you’re proud to say. You still have your idealism and courage. You still take forward leaps whether you can see the ground or not. But this heart, it's not for everyone, it's not for the ones who threw the knives.

But this? This isn’t the end. It’s the start of a new chapter. You’re not sure where you’ll end up, but you’re sure you’ll pass the next level. Alone or not.

#OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING BROKE ME #i had so much fun writing this #thank you so much to the anon that requested it #i’m not sure if this is a happy ending oorrrr????#i love angst #more angsty foursome #michael x duncan x jim x reader

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years

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Artistic Instinct Chapter 7

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 7,150 (being succinct is for wimps)

Warnings: Language, SMUT - this is your warning, no under 18s please.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

What the artist owes the world is his work, not a model for living.

Harry Crews

Chapter 7

Waking up comes to you slowly and languidly,as if the day was kind enough to filter softly into your eyes through a vaseline focussed lens, not unlike the ones shone onto Ingrid Bergman’s face and projected through Marcus’ iPad last night. Unlike your usual routine of falling out of bed and drifting with eyes still shut tight, in the direction of the kettle to make that all important cup of tea as your alarm sounds, you have instead woken as the first light of day paints the room in soft Degas pastels. Your sleep is normally quite fitful and filled with dreams that you wish didn’t cycle through your head for the rest of the day - but today feels different. Maybe it’s because your pillow is breathing.

Hang on, your pillow is breathing.

Shit, you fell asleep on Marcus.

How fucking professional, you absolute numpty!

Somehow during the night it was no longer just a case of you leaning into his shoulder but rather that your limbs had become confusingly entangled. From what you can work out, you must have both slid down the length of the sofa as whilst your head is still nestled on his shoulder, your forehead has now edged closer to the constellation of freckles on his neck. The steady percussion of his heart cradled within the gentle rise and fall of his chest is directly pressed against yours. Not crowding you despite the precariously narrow ledge you’re both huddled on, just fitting together like the most exquisitely cut puzzle.

For fuck’s sake, woman, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

You have one of the brightest minds in art history and are renowned for solving criminal activity but right now, you have zero idea as to how you will disentangle your limbs without both you and your boss showing willing.

But do you really want to?

There’s also a part of you that just wishes you could stay here- warm, safe and snuggled deeply in his chest. Jasper had always been so bony- all sharp edges and lean whereas Marcus offers a softer and more solid warmth as his body curls languidly around yours. His sleepy strokes and unconscious squeezes send little tingles throughout your body and whilst you’re utterly certain that nothing has happened other than the sheer exhaustion of two adults completely wiping out, you don’t feel ready to shatter the illusion of there being something more.

With the freest limb that’s slung over Marcus’ back, you try to wriggle some feeling into your fingers- psyching your body up to move. In an exchange of roles from the previous day, you stroke his cheek, tucking a curl of hair behind his ear before murmuring gently in his ear,

“Hey.”

Thick eyelashes start twitching before you notice an eye opening, darting around the room before coming in to focus upon your face, “Hey,” a shy grin slowly grows on his face, “I guess I didn’t get to put the comforter on you last night.”

“What?” In utter confusion, you push the back of your head into the cushion of the sofa so that you can angle your head to look more into Marcus’ face.

“I heard your breathing getting heavier last night n’ I thought of how you covered me the night before. Kept thinking I’d manage to do the same for you but you were so soft and warm, that I must’ve drifted off soon after,” his chuckling morning voice still painted with a sleepy rasp.

Giggling and grinning broadly at Marcus’ almost sweet gesture, you gently tease, “Well look, the quilt you nearly put on me, stayed on all night! Didn’t kick it off once.”

“Listen, thanks for not making this as awkward as it should be. No, no, no, I mean it,” Marcus emphasizes emphatically, his forehead wrinkling as his eyes implore you to believe him, “Not sure there are many people, who can wake up next to their new boss after less than 48 hours together and still crack jokes at their expense.”

Finally, working out a way to partially wriggle yourself free, you manage to push yourself into an almost seated position. A small groan and a flush runs through Marcus’ cheeks. And just before he flings his arm across his face to try to obscure his expression, you catch a look of embarrassment in his eyes.

In a low, gentle voice, you try to comfort him, “Come on, you have nothing to be embarrassed about- it’s a normal reaction. I’m going to shuffle across you, if that’s ok? I think it’s the only way we can get out of this tangle without both of us ending up on our arses on the floor.”

You take the small nod from Marcus as confirmation for the manoeuvre and start to crawl over him. Aiming to lift your hips up and away from the source of his embarrassment as possible, you end up overbalancing and tumbling to the floor in a heap of awkward limbs and laughter.

“Hey, you ok?” Marcus’ sleep creased face peers over the edge of the sofa down at you.

It’s now your turn for embarrassment to flush through your very being as you lie there staring at the ceiling rose and cornicing, “Ah I can’t ever pass up an opportunity to demonstrate just how clumsy I am,” you admit thickly through your eyelashes. Perhaps your limbs hadn’t been quite as ready as you’d hoped to carry your weight as you slowly shuffle yourself into a seated position on the deliciously deep pile rug that had cushioned your fall to the floor.

“Although, I may need to ensure that these rugs are kept around me at all times as at least there are no bruises this time. I swear my body is a map of mystery bruises,” you admit as you inspect the skin under your pyjama legs, pointing out inexplicable yellowing bruises.

“Well, Andy can look into that for you around the office,” Marcus says playing along with a wink, surreptitiously enjoying the little flashes you were revealing of your body, “Shame we’ve gotta leave today. I’m beat - but it’s been fun.”

“I’m not sure I’d have ever returned if it wasn’t for your insistence,” you admit, surprised at how the pain in your throat has already lessened to a mild dull ache.

“Guess we’d better get packed up and head off to the airport then.”

You observe Marcus’ bottom lip drop into a small pout, that delicious crease in the middle jutting out as if he was a petulant child rather than a man in his mid forties.

Oh how you’d love to suck...STOP IT! HE IS YOUR FUCKING BOSS, ANUSHKA MEERA LEAH PIERCE!

With an awkward wave and a quick turn of pace to hide the heat coursing through your face, you hightail it out of his room, stubbing your toe as you yank the door open far too viciously,

“SHIT ON IT!” You loudly curse, hearing the sofa creak as Marcus’ weight lifts from it. Not wanting to stick around for his latest sweet gesture when you don’t bloody deserve it, you painfully hop into the cool anonymity of the corridor to nurse your swollen toe.

Fucking smooth, Nush. REALLY fucking smooth.

✪✪✪✪✪

SLAM!

Marcus stands there, still slightly bleary eyed and dazed after experiencing some of the worst emotional whiplash he’s ever felt. How do you go from being genuinely sweet over feeling the morning glory of someone you barely know poking you in the belly to virtually running from the room and hurting yourself in the process to supposedly go pack your suitcase? Your words and actions seem so divergent- in total opposition to one another. Almost as if your brain and being are constantly at war with each other.

In one breath, you’ll tease him mercilessly, amaze him with the depth of your knowledge and the next you’ll shut off completely as if sharing even the time of day, would destroy you. You jump away from him as if it wasn’t the coffee that burns you but his touch and then, you lean into him, snoring sweetly with your face buried into his chest. He wants to shake you and scream WHAT DO YOU WANT in the same way that Ryan Gosling does in The Notebook, but life isn’t a romantic film. Something he’s never truly accepted.

Scrunching his eyes and scratching his head, rubbing the deep crevices that littered his brow, Marcus wonders what his next move will be. Should he run after you to check your foot? Wrap you in his arms and tell you that it will all be ok? Risk you running further from him? Unsure of whether your door would even open to him, Marcus sighs deeply before taking a few steps away from the sofa and tumbling face forward towards his as yet unslept upon bed.

Get it together, Pike.

How much of your constant pestering pushed Teresa away? It’s not a cute quirk, it’s fucking needy - and you need to stop before everyone runs from you.

Burying his face into the comforter, Marcus releases a deeply frustrated growl into its thick squishy noise-absorbing softness before using the springs of the bed to flip himself onto his back. Feeling his pulse throbbing a nervous beat in his neck, he shuts his eyes. All he can see is you. He can smell the tiniest imprints of your perfume and shampoo upon his t-shirt.

You’re fucking feral, Pike.

Feeling the blood rush to his groin as images of your face, bra strap and legs dance through his head, Marcus slides a hand under the waistband of his joggers to give himself a soothing stroke. He enjoys playing with himself as much as the next man- rubbing, stroking, cupping- but right now, all he can imagine is your hand being wrapped around it. Your hand gripping his cock - your skin so fucking soft - building up a rhythmic pleasure as you stare deep into his eyes.

Oh, fuck it.

With a quick arch of his hips, Marcus pulls down his pants in one smooth motion to allow himself full access to his dick. The immense pressure building and tightening as he works the shaft developing a pleasing rhythm whilst he is thinking of you. Filling in the gaps of the parts he hasn’t yet seen of you. How when you’d drifted off last night, he’d patted your hip and realised after feeling no ridge from where the elastic should have been that you had no panties on under your pyjama bottoms. The thought of your pillowy soft, warm, wet flesh so close to his fingers had made him grimace and groan last night when he couldn’t act upon it.

Now by himself, he gives into his basest wishes. Imagining licking, biting and stroking down your body, sucking on your nipples before lifting your hips to lower you onto his dick, sinking deeper and deeper inside you, feeling your warmth and wetness encase around him. Scraping his nails lightly across his balls, up the shaft and across the tip, he throws his head back as he thrusts harder into his fist. The first wave crashes over him pumping jet after jet of cum over his belly as his back arches up away from the soft mattress, his mouth crying out your name.

Dazed. Spent. Marcus lies there for a while, his hands and belly sticky from his release. Allowing the tiredness to wash back through him, his eyes close again- torturing his brain with images of you lying back with him. Being able to stroke your hair and press kisses into your sweetly almond scented skin. Hugging you tightly to him.

Never letting go.

Oh, you are utterly fucked, Pike.

✪✪✪✪✪

Lying upon your tummy, head resting on your arms, you rest upon your bed thinking over the events of the past two days. Burning yourself, burning others, coming back to France, panic attacks, confessions and oh, finding a piece of well faked art- nothing too taxing. The exhaustion is so exquisite as it courses through your veins. There is one thing you’ve tried to exclude from your list- the Voldemort of kindness- he who shall not be named.

Marcus Fucking Pike

When you’d seen his bank card, you’d noticed the F sitting between the M for Marcus and his surname of Pike. It had momentarily tickled you to think of what the F could stand for. You totally know that with his track record for openness, he’d have told you in a heartbeat but it was more fun to wonder. For now, it will stand for Fucking as from what he’d demonstrated of himself he can be really Fucking nice, a Fucking tease about your totally non-existent snoring and Fucking hot.

Stop it, Nush.

You’ve been there, seen that, done it and got the fucking t-shirt. You do not want to go down that road again.

Rolling yourself off the bed, landing with a little more grace than you had off the sofa previously, you set to grabbing everything- throwing it all into your rucksack haphazardly. You’d underpacked, not wanting to cart a wheelie suitcase with you, leaving you with fewer clothes than you actually needed for this trip. You don’t have a clean outfit for the office today. Shit. The dress, although pretty smart for work, wouldn’t be terribly comfy on the flight back and there are some small splatters decorating it from where your coffee shot out of your mouth from laughing hard. You’ll have to head home before travelling into the office today, meaning a later night to catch up with the work you’d not complete earlier. Cursing your inability to pack well and organise your life, you throw on your dress and hope that your cardigan covers the worst of the stains.

Dragging the Tangle Teezer through the motions of pretending to tame your mop before securing it in a high ponytail, you head towards the bathroom that is situated on the adjoining wall between Marcus’ and your bedroom. The old fashioned tap handle with its smooth enamel touches spins easily between your fingers with none of the guttering, spluttering and sudden gushes of cloudy water that yours does at home as you wet your toothbrush, ready to brush your morning breath away. Buzzing fills your bathroom as you set about starting your day, your eyes dancing around the room looking at the cool tiles, the elaborate cistern on the toilet- all very fitting of a Victorian era bathroom. Not your style in the slightest, but it suited the styling of the hotel well. You hated when buildings were stripped and gutted of their original features, fitted with cookie cutter IKEA furniture. Chairs should be a little creaky, floors uneven and tables a little rickety- no perfect lines. A bit like that gorgeous missing bit of beard from Marcus’ face- perfection in imperfection.

Stop it, woman.

Spitting the foamy bubbles into the porcelain of the sink, you turn on the tap to rinse it away. Spinning the handle to the off position, you grab the cleanser that Claire, your eldest brother’s wife, had convinced you to start using and to be honest, it certainly helped the hormonal breakouts when it was that time of the month.

Tearing the cotton pad packet open, you grab two of them, squeezing a blob between them, then squishing them together so that it makes a cleanser pad sandwich. It reminds you of those potions you used to make as a child out in the garden mixing any berries, leaves and soil, or in the bath where you used all your dad’s shaving foam and your mum’s stupidly expensive creams, oils and lotions, mixing wild concoctions that would stop your brothers from coming into your bedroom or your mum rolling her eyes at your grades.

Rubbing the cool ointment in soothing circles over your skin, a strange sound seems to come through the wall. From Marcus’ side. It’s muffled but did it sound like your name, or were you imagining it? Confusion creases your forehead- why wouldn’t he just call or text if he needed you, unless he’s hurt? Deciding that the only way to put your mind at rest is to ring and make sure that he’s ok, you scroll through the names on your phone until you hit Sir Agent Marcus Pike. Hitting facetime, you gaze around the room as you wait for him to pick up. A lopsided smile on a slightly flushed face arrives on your phone, “Hey! You ok?”

“Yeah, I was just ringing to check if you were- I thought I heard you say my name when I was in the bathroom,” you gently question, noticing Marcus’ face twitch awkwardly as his eyes widen, “I was just worried that you might be bleeding out in there. Can’t really have that happen twice or people will start to think it was me that did it!”

Covering his mouth, scratching his scruff with his fingers, Marcus tries to think quickly, “Urm, I was… just trying to um get packed up and I stubbed my toe. You probably heard a pained grunt- sorry,” Marcus shakes his head, flaming cheeks giving away his lie.

“Oh we’re a matching pair, now!” you giggle watching Marcus’ uncomfortable twitching and the way he keeps running his hand through his hair, not entirely convinced by his story but glad it isn’t anything more serious.

“Anyway,” you announce wanting to move the conversation along, “I’ve booked us a taxi to the airport- you’ve got about twenty minutes until it arrives.”

A genuine smile creeps across his face- his eyes creasing into half crescents, “Thanks Nush. Hadn’t actually considered how we’d get there. I promise I am capable of running this team.”

“No worries, Marcus. See you down in reception?” that delicious smile and a slight nod greets your question before a quick goodbye on both sides.

He bloody hadn’t stubbed his toe but what the fuck had he been doing? Eyes widening as a realisation crosses your mind.

He hadn’t, had he?

Giggling away to yourself at the very thought, you finish grabbing your things before flicking the switch on the kettle and opening those beautiful French doors so their gauzy curtains float like ribbons in the slight breeze. One more coffee on that glorious balcony before you head back to London. So that’s two major developments you have gained in regards to work- one faked picture and that Marcus Pike is a shit liar.

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey back to the UK had been pretty uneventful other than Marcus trying to take your bag from you whenever possible. A sweet gesture but entirely unnecessary when it is literally a rucksack with five light items inside and you are more than capable of carrying it unless he was secretly worried that you’d injure someone else by swinging around too quickly or something. In the end, it was just easier for him to hold it rather than bickering like an old married couple in the middle of Stansted airport.

“Just gimme it, Nush. You can concentrate on working out where on Earth I’ve parked my car- this is the info I’ve got from the email ticket,” Marcus pointedly says, passing you his phone screen.

“You don’t have to give me a lift. I have to go home first as I didn’t pack enough clothes to cover me for today too,” you own up, “You get yourself to work and I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours. I promise I’ll work late tonight to make up for it.”

Marcus shakes his head, “You hardly strike me as someone who does half a job. You’re in Blackheath too, aren’t you? To be honest, I could do with grabbing a few bits from home before going back into town, so it won’t be going out of my way.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take any more of your time than necessary- I know that I’m not the easiest person to be around and you’ve had to pretty much live with me for the past twenty-four hours,” you check noticing Marcus’ wince when you mention your difficult personality, “Ooof that bad huh?”

“You should stop talking about yourself in that way, Nush,” he gently soothes, lifting your chin with his thumb so that he can pick your eyes up from where they have fallen to the floor, “From what I’ve learnt about you in the past couple of days, you are an incredibly intelligent, occasionally clumsy but warm human. It has been a pleasure to have this opportunity to get to know you better and get to see the level of your skills so early on.”

Shifting uncomfortably in your coffee stained clothes, a smile crossing his face as he adds, “Can’t take a compliment can you? Ah well, that’ll have to be in your performance management plan- something for you to work on.”

“Ah hah! I’ve worked it out- your car is in the third bay, second row in Green Zone,” you triumphantly cackle.

“Lead the way, Nush. Let’s head home.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Roughly forty-five minutes later, you are kicking the base plate of your door to get the damp to release its powerful grip. Realistically, you had no need for a lock as the fluid retention of the wood would stop the most committed burglar in their tracks and unless you angled the kick just right, ah that’s it- home. You lean over the edge of the walkway to wave at Marcus, who is waiting below for a signal that you were in. He flashes his lights in acknowledgement of your gesture before smoothly reversing from where he has pulled in, watching his car disappearing from your estate, there is a tiny ache but you try to push it away as realistically, it is utterly ridiculous. You’re going to be seeing him in an hour for a lift into work.

After a scorching shower, a squirt of perfume and donning a pretty wrap dress with brightly coloured tights and your trusty cherry red Docs, you’re ready. Lying upon the sofa with your head upon a cushion, your knees bent and feet up on the arm rest, you flick through the various emails and messages that have slowly trickled in over the course of the morning. A sharp rap at the door, shakes you out of work mode.

“Hang on,” you yell through the door giving it the special shake and wiggle before muttering a prayer to the door gods to open first time, “Sorry, it’s the damn damp!”

A very smart, besuited, booted and bespectacled Marcus has a look of total alarm, “I’d say to get that checked but I’m guessing you already have?”

“Oh multiple times of pestering my landlord- apparently it’s on a list. Has been for at least three years,” you answer irritatedly, “Anyway, it’s my best security feature- no one can get in or out.”

“I didn’t realise you wore glasses. They look good on you,” you admire the black frames enjoying the flush being brought to Marcus’ cheeks before teasingly adding, “Ohhh, now who can’t take a compliment!”

“Get down your ass down those stairs, Ms Pierce, I’m pulling rank,” Marcus winks, lopsidedly grinning at you, “We have to at least pretend to do some work today.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus opens the door to the office for you- ever grateful to his wonderful manners, you slide into the office first and inwardly groan at the pile of files that have seemingly made themselves at home on your desk.

“Oh there’s my girl!” Andy’s arms wrap themselves around your shoulders, encasing you in a bone crushing hug, “Missed your face yesterday but I’m guessing you’ve had no time to think of us poor souls slaving away here whilst you’ve been gallivanting across the French countryside? How was the hotel room? Enjoy the view?”

Feeling a little ambushed by your friend’s questioning, you blink hard to steady your thoughts of the glorious view you awoke to this morning, “Yeah, it was lovely!”

And warm. And soft. Snored quite sweetly too.

“I know what a mardy bum you can be if you don’t have something nice to look at when you wake up,” Andy adds with a gentle shrug. He then turns his attention to Marcus, who’s shifting uncomfortably behind you, “Welcome back, Sir. Good to have you back here.”

“Thanks Andy. Um, I’m going to get set up,” Marcus says as he steps out around from behind you, placing a hand on the small of your back. The warmth exists there for a moment before he’s already passed your desk and opened the glass door to his office.

“Coffee’s already waiting for you on your desk,” Marcus swings back to look utterly amazed at his PA, so Andy qualifies this, “I get reception to let me know when all of you arrive so that you can focus on the important things.”

“By the way, Nush and Marcus, before you get swallowed by case files,” Andy addresses you both as you lower yourself onto your chair, “we’re all heading to the Model Market on Friday to find some food and drink before drunkenly throwing some moves to my cousin who’ll be behind the decks. It’s only Wednesday and it already feels like a week!”

Dian sneaks over to your desk with a pastel de nata, “I heard these are your favourites so here’s something sweet to start off your day right.”

Your lip trembles and tears start to form as she passes you this sweet treat, “Thank you. They are my favourites. You are a truly lovely human, Dian.” You reach across the table and squeeze her hand.

“Oh I’m alright, I guess,” she winks one of her anthracite eyes at you, beaming widely, “I am just looking forward to finally spending some time with you in a context that doesn’t involve work. It’s so hard leaving a place that you’ve got your people who you vibe with and then you upend yourself to live somewhere new, where you’re totally on your own and have a job where you work odd hours!”

A sudden hit of guilt pumps through your veins, “I am so sorry, Dian, I hadn’t thought of that. I am so lucky to be from the same city that I now work in- I should have taken you to Borough. I will, and I promise I will show you all the little nooks you won’t have seen around there.”

“I was very jealous of Marcus stealing you away. Ridiculous when it was just for a day but I’d really like to get to know you. I feel like we could be friends,” Dian squeezes back, “Harper has family and friends here already, and I swear I overheard Kiri talking about a rugby team he has joined and meeting up with some mates from uni.”

“Yup- that’s probably true- plenty of Aussies and Kiwis in London but sadly not so many Canadians! Right, we’ll do this old school- come over to mine at seven on Friday, I’ll put some wine in the fridge and we can pretend we’re teenagers getting ready for a night on the town,” you quickly scrawl your address on a piece of paper, pushing it across the table towards Dian.

The smile on Dian’s face is the prettiest thing you've seen for a while. It seems to extend from her eyes to the very depths of her soul. Her reaching out to you makes you think of Marcus. Perhaps he could do with a friend here too- maybe another pizza and classic film night? Even though it had only been two nights, you feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of him not being there with you this evening. Ridiculous. Get a grip before you risk curling up on a sofa with him again.

As Dian returns to her desk, you are faced with the mountain of paperwork from yesterday’s adventure. Shutting your eyes to try and focus your brain, you try to figure out where to start- the report? Logging the video feed? Filing the pictures? Writing up the notes from the meeting?

“Already napping on the job?”

You open one eye to be met with Marcus’ amused face.

With a slight shake of your head, you dismiss his teasing inquiry, “Trying to figure out where to start. I’m not sure quite how we managed to achieve so much in a day but it allllll nowwwww neeeeeeds to be loggggggged, bleurgh!”

“Let’s start at the very beginning,” Marcus says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“A very good place to start,” you sing along, channeling your best Julie Andrews, highly amused by Marcus’ reference, “Actually- as my brain’s not quite in work mode yet, I should ask you before I forget. I was thinking- do you fancy making the pizzas and classic film night a thing? While London is always full of people, it’s easy to feel quite lonely until you find your group of friends.”

A genuine smile slowly crawls across Marcus’ face as he drinks in your offer, “I mean, it's just a thought. Of course you don’t have to and I’m not sure that my old sofa is anywhere near as comfy as the one in Lyon…”

“I’d love to,” Marcus grins at the fluster in your voice, was he happy to spend more time with you? “Let’s get something in place…”

“Nush- sorry to interrupt, Marcus- I have a highly animated woman called Élodie on the phone asking for you. Can I put her through?” Andy asks, “Seems like she has the lab results back for the possible Soutine.”

Lifting the receiver for your phone whilst whispering to Marcus that you’d catch him later, you lean into the backrest and spin yourself comfortingly from side to side, « Coucou chérie, ça va? Vérifie si mon numéro de téléphone fonctionne? » Hi my love! How are you? Already checking if my telephone number works?

«Coucou mon chouchou! Bien sûr- tu ne peux pas me quitter encore! Il a été complètement falsifié. Sur la toile, sous la peinture, se trouve une autre image qui me rappelle quelque chose qui a été peint par un ado troublé! » Hey my love! Of course- you can’t leave me again! It was completely faked. On the canvas under the paint, another image was found that reminds me of something a troubled teenager would paint! The words tumbling hurriedly from Élodie’s mouth into her phone.

You giggle remembering the angst-ridden art and poetry you’d created as a mopey teenager and are filled with amusement that someone might improve them by putting faked masterpieces on top.

« D’accord! Donc la radiologie l’a prouvé - mais qu’en est il des échantillons de peinture? Une joie avec ceux-ci? » Ok! So the X-ray proved it but what about the paint samples? Any joy there? Now spinning on your chair as far the cord would allow you, your mind wonders how on Earth it could ever have ever been thought to be real.

« Tous les échantillons montrent des peintures modernes telles que la phtalocyanine bleue et verte. Les résultats de la datation au carbone sont attendus plus tard dans la soirée, mais j'avais hâte de t’appeler! Je t’enverrai les résultats par e-mail dès qu'ils apparaissent» All of the samples show modern paints such as phthalocyanine blue and green. The carbon dating results are due later this evening but I couldn't wait to ring you. I’ll email you the results as soon as they appear. Élodie continues, « Comment s'est passé votre dernière nuit et le voyage de retour avec votre magnifique patron? » How did the last night and journey home go with that lovely boss of yours?

« Je raccroche le téléphone maintenant, femme ridicule, » I am hanging up the phone now, you ridiculous woman. You reproach your friend playfully.

Hanging up, after sending hugs and kisses to Jacques too, you see that your computer has now decided that no more updates need to be made. Perhaps it’s time to get started on that report…

When you read you begin with ay bee cee…

✪✪✪✪✪

The flurry of activity continues to hover around your desk and slowly your colleagues peter out in search of lives lived outside of the office space. In fact, you don’t notice the ageing of the day until Marcus goes to leave the office, “Hey, are you planning to sleep here tonight?”

“Had more sleep last night than I usually do so I am riding this high until I drop,” you snort without removing your eyes from your screen as you furiously type away, “You off home?”

“Gym first- gotta burn off the pancakes I’m going to have for breakfast tomorrow,” Marcus says as he fiddles with the strap on his laptop bag.

“That’s not the way that food intake and exercise should work. Food is for nourishing your body and exercise is for making it strong. Don’t get sucked in by that bullshit, Marcus,” you wag your finger at your boss, still hammering the keyboard with your other hand, “You have nothing to worry about, the way you look.”

You finally look up to see Marcus shyly smile, rocking from heel to toe in his highly polished brogues, his eyes on the toe of his shoes. Drawing a deep breath, he looks back up at you, nodding towards the report on your screen, “D’ya think you’ll be able to present that to the team tomorrow?”

“Yeah, just had the results from the carbon dating come through so I should be ready to speak to everyone tomorrow morning at the briefing, if that works for you?” You answer just as tiredness starts to take a grip on your body.

“Perfect. Can I offer you a lift home or are you staying a bit longer?”

“Staying,” you confirm, glueing your eyes back to the screen.

“Well, goodnight Nush,” Marcus wishes you warmly, as he makes to walk away from your desk.

“G’night Marcus. Try to sleep in a bed tonight.”

A throaty chuckle fills the cool office air before disappearing as the door shuts behind him. Bathed in the blue light of your screen, you try to jog your memory of which point you were about to make in your report but sit there utterly stumped due to the distraction.

Marcus Fucking Pike.

✪✪✪✪✪

“So what’s the big deal about this colour exactly?” Harper cuts directly to the chase, “Explain it like I’m five because as you are well aware, this is not my area of expertise.”

You always wonder how far back people need to know of a colour’s history to explain it well enough. Do you take it back to cave paintings or perhaps start in the Renaissance? Perhaps somewhere between the two?

“There was a blue that was known as the colour of the heavens. It’s called ultramarine and is created by crushing lapis lazuli. Now, lapis is only found in one country- Afghanistan, but it’s been used since antiquity to create this beautifully, insanely intense blue. The blue that you see in Tutankhamen’s mask, that’s lapis. Having been used by the Ancient Egyptian and Babylonian empires, lapis then fell out of favour as the Romans associated it with the woad used by Barbarian hordes.”

Tapping his pen on the table, Kiritopa nods in agreement,”Like Braveheart?”

“That’s a wee bit later in European history but a similar idea. Think more Boudicca- the Iceni tribes uprising against the marauding Romans,” Dian points out kindly before nodding encouragingly at you to continue.

“The use of ultramarine then slowly diffused through Europe thanks to the Crusades in the 13th and 14th century but even then, it was still an incredibly precious commodity and solely available to the richest of the rich. That’s why you only ever see it in pictures of the Virgin Mary, emperors, popes and other dignitaries. When a patron requested Ultramarine to be used, the contract would have to be super tight specifying exactly where it would be used and how much.”

“So over the years, scientists have attempted to replicate this paint to create a substance that’s more commercially available but when we try to make paints, we’re dealing with chemistry. When manufacturing paint, you’ve got to make sure that it’s a stable, preferably non-toxic product because well, we all know what happened to the Radium Girls.”

“It took until the first half of the twentieth century for the scientific community to create CuPc. I think it was 1927 when they first created a reaction between copper, cyanide and 0-dibromobenzene, finding that one of the byproducts was an intensely blue powder. This blue powder ended up being first manufactured in 1935 but it still wasn’t readily available until the sixties because Yves Klein tried in the fifties to create the blue used by Giotto and still didn’t manage to produce anything nearly as stable or non-toxic.”

“How does this all link up to this forgery in France?” Harper questions bluntly, clearly desperate for you to get to the point.

Blinking hard, you take a moment to steady yourself as Marcus’ eyes flit between you and the Australian agent.

“Kind of wishing that I’d asked you to explain it like I’m twenty five, might have reached the point by Christmas,” she mutters under her breath.

“Stop packing a sad, Harper. Nush has heaps of skills in this area,” Kiritopa shoots a glare in the Australian’s direction, “Keep going Nush.”

You go to open your mouth but Harper just can’t help herself, “There’s a skill in being succinct.”

“There’s also a skill in not being rude but you’re not managing that are you?” The look on Kiritopa’s face announcing that he is pretty much ready to kill.

“Whoa - guys…” Marcus chooses now to join in?

“Look,” you acquiesce- your heart racing in your throat, raising your hands to try and calm the situation, “Harper’s right, I’m blathering. I should have gotten to the point far sooner. The crux of the situation is that the paint found on the canvas in Grenoble dates from the sixties whereas the artist died in the forties.”

“All of the evidence points to it being a fake- carbon dating, x-rays- the lot. This was an easy find but I think we should be prepared for harder to spot ones,” after throwing paper copies of the lab results in the centre of the table for everyone to grab, you sit back in your chair. Your posture screams for everyone to leave you alone, burying your face in the agenda. Multiple sets of eyes look upon you but you refuse to meet them, feeling furiously obstinate and wholly uncommunicative in the moment.

As the meeting grinds to a close, you finally lift your eyes to find that Marcus’ regard has barely left you- only looking away when you catch him. Urgh, he’s going to be nice about this too. But it isn’t Marcus, who reaches out to you. It’s Kiritopa. Kiritopa, who wordlessly reaches his bear-like arm across the table and squeezes your hand before getting up and leaving the room. The gesture fills you with a grateful warmth and you decide to scarper from the meeting room before Marcus says something and makes you cry.

Time to put on my big girl knickers and get back to work.

✪✪✪✪✪

Friday passes in a blur of calls about a new possible forgery meaning that you can only pull silly faces at Dian from across the room. Kiritopa seems hugely excited by the prospect of a night out, chattering about how he’s invited some of the guys from his rugby team to meet up with him there later. Harper is her usual distant self, head down, beavering away- not really paying much attention to anyone or anything around her.

Where’s Marcus?

You throw a scrunched ball of paper at the PA’s head to get his attention, but entirely miss him, “Andy is Marcus not coming in today?”

Picking up the paper and without even looking up, he throws it back, hitting you square in the forehead, “Car trouble. Any issues, message him.”

Eventually, you hear his confident gait walk into the room. Looking up, you send him a smile which soon fades when you see what a mess he’s in. Hair sticking up all over the place from a stressed hand constantly running through it, a slight gleam of sweat across his skin and an oily mark on one cheek, shirt untucked, jacket draped over one arm, tie askance and lowered due to the top two buttons of his shirt being undone. All of him, in fact, looks undone and defeated.

Without thinking, you jump up from your seat, walk over to him and hug him tightly. With this action the other agents look up and see the state their boss is in. Marcus, whilst initially surprised by your gesture, leans into the hug and lowly whispers, “Thanks. I needed that,” before giving you a tight squeeze, releasing you and slowly trudging towards his office.

“Shit start to a Friday, Sir,” Kiritopa offers, “I’ll get the first round in tonight- you look like you could do with a beer.”

“Fuck, yes, I need a beer but as your boss, that’s my job,” Marcus forcefully asserts, “You can get the second round in.”

You make to slink off back to your desk but Marcus catches your hand, rubbing the skin lightly with his thumb, “You ok?”

“Yeah- just wanted to check on you. You look a fucking state,” you declare through an amused grin.

Marcus chuckles at your observation. “Not the best start to a day,” he grimaces, “I miss anything major this morning?”

“Not apart from the boss arriving at midday looking like he pushed his car all the way here,” you gently tease, “You know we have something called public transport in London- you should try it some time!”

“Yeah, I’ll have Andy look into that for me,” Marcus nods in mock-contemplation, “Hey, um, are you coming out tonight? With everyone, I mean?”

“Uh huh,” you concede reluctantly, “I’m not really a fan of nights out with colleagues but I think we could all do with a glass of something and some good street food in our tummies. What time are you getting there?”

Marcus scrunches up his nose, “Around seven but you know this job- it might be then or some time in September!”

Giving you a wink as he buttons up his collar and straightens his tie, Marcus turns towards his office and you head back to your desk- both with a renewed wish to get finished up and out of the office tonight.

Taglist: @astroboots @silverwolf319 @yespolkadotkitty @agirllovespancakes @danniburgh @lunaserenade @leonieb @tardisfangurl @mouthymandalorian @disgruntledspacedad @zukoyonce @pedropascalito @absurdthirst @mrsparknuts @sirowsky @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @green-socks @lv7867

#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist fanfiction #marcus pike x oc

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honey-dewey · 4 years

Text

Family Reunion

Pairing: Javier Peña /Reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, probably inaccurate Spanish, but otherwise none! This is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Returning home is hard, but with you by Javier’s side, he can face anything. Including a Peña family reunion.

“I’m really not sure about this.”

You laughed, putting a hand on top of his and watching the Texas countryside pass you by. “Javi, it’s two days. What could possibly go wrong?”

Javier sighed. “Ay dios míos, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

The Peña family ranch was all set up for the reunion, and for the first time in a long time, Javier was actually able to go. He pulled up the driveway, face already scrunching as three women rushed out and stood eagerly on the edge of the driveway. “Here we go.”

Immediately, as soon as Javier’s feet hit the pavement, the three women were upon him, hugging and squealing that they’d missed him. You grinned, stepping out of the car and simply watching as Javier tried to brush off his sister’s affection.

Finally, once they were all done greeting Javier, he pulled you close to his side. “These are my older sisters, Maria, Cynthia, and Patricia.”

You smiled. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Cynthia bounded back into the house, apparently eager to tell everyone Javier was home. Maria, who you were pretty sure was the oldest, helped you and Javier grab your bags and take them inside. While Javier got lost in the sea of family members who hadn’t seen him in a decade, you found near silence in Javier’s old bedroom, which was where you two would be sleeping.

“Y’know, Mamá couldn’t believe it when he called home to say he got married,” Maria said, setting Javier’s bag on his bed. “Our little Javi, all grown up and married.”

You put your bag down next to Javier’s. “Is he the youngest?”

“Nah,” Maria said, pointing to a framed photo on Javier’s nightstand. “Melissa and Lori are both younger than him.”

Examining the photo, you suppressed a grin. “He’s the only boy?”

Maria’s Cheshire grin grew. “Yeah.”

An unfamiliar woman poked her head into the room. “Is this Javi’s spouse?”

You nodded.

“Ah!” The woman pulled you into a tight hug. “Hi! I’m Melissa!”

“Lissa!” Javier said, and Melissa put you down with a pout. “Bájalos, ahora.”

Another call of Melissa’s name, and she was racing out of the room with a cheerful laugh, Maria hot on her heels.

Javier fell onto the bed, and you pulled the door shut, falling next to him. “Home sweet home,” he groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

You rolled over and ended up laying on Javier’s chest, resting your ear on his collarbones. “I like it,” you said softly.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying each other’s company, a loud shout echoed through the house, disrupting your peace. “Lori’s home!”

The house began to bustle, but you stayed on top of Javier, keeping him trapped. He didn’t seem to mind, and actually wound an arm around your back to keep you secure. Voices filtered around you, but they were fuzzy, like they were underwater or behind a closed door.

Finally, someone opened the door to Javier’s bedroom. “Hijo?”

“Si mamá?”

Javier’s mother looked at you on top of him and smiled. “Lori is home. Do you want to say hello?”

Javier sighed, and you laughed as you were lifted up as he breathed in. “Yeah, I’ll come say hi.”

He stood, and you stood with him. “Come on. You’ll like Lori.”

Lori, if you remembered correctly, was the youngest and the most mature. She looked damn near identical to Javier, despite her feminine features and the fact that she was clearly younger.

“Ah, you must be Javi’s spouse!” She said, shaking your hand. “Damn, Javi really knows how to pick them!”

You laughed. “Thank you, but I think I picked him.”

Lori smiled. “Of course. C’mon! Can you bake?”

Turned out, Lori needed help with the pies, and you and her spent almost half an hour making various pie crusts and fillings. Javier tried to help for a few minutes, but he got dragged off to help somewhere else. You waved as he went, following one of the younger cousins.

“So, how was Columbia?” Lori asked, mixing another apple pie mix in a glass bowl.

You took a breath, continuing to knead lest your emotions get the better of you. “Hard,” you finally admitted. “Very hard. I wasn’t even in the thick of the fighting most times, but it was harder than anything I’ve ever done. We had to move four times, and we caught bombs in Javi’s car on two separate occasions. It was a good day if no one shot at him, and then there was all that shit with Los Pepes.”

“Oh I heard about that,” Lori said sadly, grabbing another pie pan. “That must’ve been hell for him, not being there when they finally put a bullet in Escobar.”

“Steve called us immediately,” you said. “The body was still warm, I don’t think the news knew yet. But we did. Javier cried.”

Lori shrugged. “What’s he gonna do now?”

You looked around, making sure the kitchen was empty. “Going back.”

“What?”

You nodded. “They’re sending us back, something about the Cali cartel? I dunno, but apparently it’s big and it’s a problem. They want Javi because, well, he’s had connections with those people.”

“Oh,” Lori breathed, passing the pie to you so you could lattice it. “That’s awful.”

“That’s government work,” you said with a sigh.

Before Lori could speak again, Javier came back with two men, one of whom put an arm around Lori’s waist.

“David, this is Javier’s spouse,” Lori said, smiling as the man kissed her cheek. “The one who was working with the DEA.”

David nodded to you. “Pleasure. I’d shake your hand, but,”

You grinned, holding up your pie crust covered hands. “I’ll spare you the feeling.”

“And this is my cousin Chris,” Javier said, leaning on the counter and watching you expertly lattice the pie in front of you. “How many of those are you making?”

“Three apple, two cherry, one pecan for Cynthia, one blueberry, and a peach pie for Javi.”

Javier lit up. “I thought you weren’t making a peach pie!”

Lori laughed. “Beth brought Georgia peaches, so I had to.”

Chris opened the oven, examining the pies. “Damn, these look divine.”

“Off,” Lori said, giving Chris’s hands a light smack with a wooden spoon. “These are for dessert!”

Once you were finally done and the pies only had to be baked, you were able to wash your hands and sit on the couch. Javier sat next to you, along with a few aunts and uncles you didn’t know. Javier’s father sat in a recliner, his mother sat on a loveseat, and beside her sat a wonderful old woman who you quickly learned was Javier’s grandmother. You closed your eyes, leaning against Javier’s shoulder and dozing a bit. You didn’t fall asleep, but damn you wanted to. Conversation filtered around you, but you didn’t pay much attention.

People came and went, and eventually, everyone was moving outside. Javier nudged you to awareness and you blinked blearily in the Texas sunlight as you followed him outside.

“Veteran DEA agent, bothered by a bit of sunshine,” Javier teased, handing you his aviators. “Ain’t you a sight.”

You huffed at him. “Don’t make me regret saying yes to marrying you,” you said, waving to Patricia and Melissa.

Lunch was a happy affair. You sat beside your husband, chatting eagerly with some of his cousins. His sisters sat with you, happily telling you stories about Javier that made him turn red and you bend over with laughter. Finally, once they’d had their fun embarrassing him, Cynthia, Maria, and Lori all left to go oversee some game the young cousins were playing. Melissa leaned over the table and grinned, Patricia already rolling her eyes.

“Javi,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyes. “Have you taken Bella out yet?”

“Bella?” You asked, seeing Javier copy Patricia’s eye roll. “Who’s Bella?”

Melissa pointed to the stables that the ranch had. “Javi’s horse. She’s getting old, but she still runs.”

“She’s thirteen,” Javier said. “Not old.”

Patricia smiled. “Javi managed to get her off a man trying to sell her for meat,” she explained to you. “Right up until the day he left for Columbia, she was his pride and joy. Brought her back basically from the dead.”

You tried to imagine Javier caring deeply about a horse, deeply enough to save her. Unsurprisingly, the thought came easy. “Bella, it’s a beautiful name.”

“Short for Belladonna,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

The ground was warm beneath your feet, still bare because you hadn’t had time to put shoes on before lunch. The Peña stables didn’t have many horses, maybe three or four. Right at the end was a stall painted with gorgeously intricate vines and flowers, the belladonna plant. Javier leaned over the door, whistling.

The effect was almost immediate. He was shoved from the door, a black horse pushing him out and butting against his body, searching him.

“Bella!” He said happily, scratching behind Bella’s swiveling ears. “Hello! Did you miss me?”

Bella snorted.

“I know, I missed you too,” Javier said, lost in his own little world. “Hey, guess what! I got married. Mhm, I think they’re perfect too.”

You smiled, leaning against the wall and watching Javier talk to Bella. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll take you on a ride.”

He introduced you to another horse, Bella’s neighbor Aristotle. Aristotle was well behaved, and within no time, you were sitting in the saddle and following Javier down a trail. Aristotle was an easy ride, and it helped that you had some prior riding knowledge. Javier, however, was leagues above you, riding as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Which you supposed he had.

“The ranch is huge,” Javier said, leading you through a section of forest. “But even if it wasn’t, we’re all good friends with the neighbors, and they don’t mind when we ride on their land.”

You left the forest and entered a large field that stretched on for miles, a wooden fence bisecting the field. “Is that where the neighbor’s property starts?” You asked, pulling Aristotle to a stop on the edge of the woods.

“That’s still ours,” Javier said. “Technically the neighbor’s land starts at the end of the field on the other side of the fence, but the fence was there when we bought the land and no one wants to take it down.”

You nodded. “How far is it back to the ranch?”

Javier looked at you, confused. “Twenty minutes at a steady trot, maybe thirty at a walk, why?”

Pushing Javier’s aviators up your nose and wiggling in the saddle, you grinned. “Over the fence, race you back!”

Just like that, you were off. Aristotle seemed just as joyful as you as you leapt the fence with ease, using what little riding knowledge you had. Javier caught on to your game and followed suit, laughing as Bella and Aristotle raced side by side.

The trail was likely too dangerous to keep this pace at, but if you weren’t mistaken, you could wind around the forest, staying at your pace. Abandoning Javier at the path, you cut a sharp turn, feeling the wind on your skin as you laughed.

True to your thoughts, within ten minutes, you were coming up on the ranch with no Javier in sight. Jumping the fence yet again into the riding ring, you pulled Aristotle to a stop, jumping down and stroking his nose.

Maria and Cynthia ran up to you as you straightened your shirt. “What happened?”

The sound of hooves alerted you to the return of your husband. “Javier and I went for a ride. I challenged him to a race home. He lost.”

Javier stopped Bella beside you, looking you up and down as he slid out of his saddle. “That was some damn impressive riding,” he said. “Congrats.”

You grinned. “C’mon, let’s put these two away and relax.”

Of course, in the Peña house, there was no such thing as relaxing. You and Javier were halfway to the porch when Javier was hit in the back with a water balloon. He turned, back dripping. Melissa and Patricia both pointed at each other, barely containing their laughter.

“Oh hell no!” Javier said, taking off his shoes and smiling. “Get back here!”

He chased after his sisters, both of which ran away, shrieking with laughter. You sat on the porch swing, watching Javier grab a water balloon and throw it. His aim was off, so instead of hitting Patricia, he hit Maria, who immediately joined the fight as well. Within minutes, all six Peña kids were throwing water balloons at each other and laughing. It was such an innocent sight, and it made you sigh. How long would you be in Columbia fighting the Cali Cartel? When would Javier get a chance to laugh like this again?

A shriek pulled you from your thoughts as Maria took control of a garden hose and began to aim it mostly at Javier, catching Lori and Cynthia in the process of soaking her brother. Javier ducked away from the hose spray, and Melissa snuck around Maria’s back and stood on the hose. It was a simple trick, but one Maria fell for, looking into the hose and immediately getting a face full of water.

“Niños!” Javier’s mother yelled, coming out of the house. “Que estás haciendo?”

“Jugando, Mamá!” Javier called, sitting up in the grass from where he’d been play wrestling with Cynthia, entirely soaked and decently muddy. “Melissa lo inició.”

“Did not!”

“Did to!”

“Niños!” Javier’s mother said again, trying to cut the childish bickering off. “Lavarse!”

“Si Mamá!” The chorus of six voices called back. Javier was up first, shaking like a wet dog and trotting over to the house, followed by his sisters.

Ten minutes later, a significantly cleaner Javier was sitting next to you, his hair still wet and in completely different clothes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly, watching the large extended family gather for dinner.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

Javier took your hands. “You only ever use that tone when something is really wrong. What is it?”

You shrugged. “Just wondering when we’ll be back here. Will it be years, like last time?”

“Not if I can help it,” Javier said softly. “Hey, look at me cariño. This won’t be like last time, okay? I swear it. We’ll be home soon.”

Nodding, you kissed Javier, running a finger over his ring. “I love you.”

Javier smiled, kissing your forehead. “I love you more.”

You leaned against him, taking in the setting sun and the bustling happiness of the yard. Someone started playing music, and you perked up. “Oh! I love this song!”

Javier tipped his head, trying to figure out what was playing. “I don’t know this.”

“It’s from the mid sixties,” you said, standing and tugging Javier to his feet. “Never charted, but my mother loved it.” You started to sway with the happy music, and Javier copied your movements. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, you don't have to be a star,” you sang, making Javier smile. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, I love you just the way you are.”

Javier moved his hands to your waist, and you put your forearms on his shoulders, still swaying and singing. “For love is just the same, without fortune and fame. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

The song kept playing, and you kept singing, dancing with Javier on the porch. About halfway through the song, someone interrupted you. “Hey, dorks!”

You jumped, almost knocking into Javier and hurting him. “Jesus! A warning next time!”

Maria grinned. “Mamá says it’s time to eat, and if you don’t come down, she’ll feed your portion to the dogs.”

Javier smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Mamá. C’mon, let’s eat.”

You took Javier’s hand, following him off the porch, still singing lightly as the grass crunched under your feet and the warm Texas breeze rippled your clothes.

“Hey, lover, treat me good and nice, and it will be alright. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

#Narcos #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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vostokovasmelina · 3 years

Text

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson

word count: 3.1k+

warning: mentions and descriptions of alcohol, death, grief, trauma, therapy, depression – i call this post-snap realism

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: the ending is a dark unedited mess, so proceed with caution

Taking a cautious sip of your hot beverage, you watched this absolute gatecrasher of a man trying to make up his mind about whatever he was so confused about – Sam kept looking all around your apartment as if searching for something he had left there, his slightly lost and disoriented expression sending a sudden wave of guilt rushing over you. Now that you thought about it, it really must have sucked absolute cheese for him to come home hoping he could finally have that huge cup of strong black coffee he had been anticipating ever since having defeated that enormous purple bastard from Outer Space, only to find that his coffee machine was long gone and now this random lady with a philodendron problem and a judgmental cat were inhabiting the place with absolutely no room left for him whatsoever. It did sound tragic when you put it that way.

However, it really wasn’t your fault that you had needed to find a brand new residence approximately five years before. He really should have checked in with someone to make sure he still had somewhere to go home to. You were quite clearly the real victim here. And Lord only knew how poor Archie was going to process all the excitement of the day.

For a few seconds, you contemplated whether or not to put your thoughts into words, and eventually decided against it for the time being. The man had just helped save the world a few days before, after all, and out of what? Good conscience? Personally not for you, but you could appreciate it in others. And it would have been a real shame to die right when your fan-favourite succulents and killer new posting schedule had been attracting more Instagram followers than ever before. Thanks to the savior complex flaming inside of the gentleman standing before you though, the regular civilian had luckily escaped such terrible hardships. And special thanks to approximately a thousand and one other superheroes. Oh, and to an African country filled with similarly public-spirited people.

For a few awkwardly long seconds neither of you said a word. Sam kept looking around and you watched him look around, slowly lowering your mug onto the table and tilting your head slightly to the left. Weird how Sarah had never mentioned the brother believed to be dead for the last five years was this handsome. It is unfair, really. Some people are just naturally gorgeous no matter the shitty kitchen lighting, that tiny confused frown that had been sitting on their face for the last half hour, or those shiny black bugs for eyes tearing up ever so slightly to snitch on a long repressed yawn.

“Now that the drama is over and the Avengers as such are non-existent – have you considered a career in modeling yet?”

Sam snapped his head towards you with such force and speed that for a moment you were afraid you’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon sewing it back on his neck. You grabbed your mug still pretty much filled to the brim with tea and raised it back up to your mouth to hide your lingering half-smile behind a faded portrait of baby Archie on the ivory porcelain.

“Just saying, I would buy anything for this face on the package alone,” you continued with the confidence of a woman who hasn’t got a single drop of shame left in her body. But it was fine ‘cos you didn’t actually mean it, right? It was all just a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood and snapping him out of his puzzled melancholy. And that tiny flutter of your heart upon hearing Sam’s perfect little chuckle was but a momentary malfunction of the organ. The incident was purely physiological. No contribution from any emotional factors. It was simply an innocent coincidence that these two, completely unrelated things had co-occured.

So when your gazes met, you didn’t tear yours away in embarrassment – you stood your ground, completely unaffected and unbothered, ignoring the increasingly hot sensation in your cheeks when you saw Sam raise a cheeky eyebrow at you. Before even more damage could have been done, however, you decided to cut the party short.

“Oh, no. Don’t get your hopes up, Birdman. I simply couldn’t keep watching you in your deeply disturbed state.”

Very, very smooth. Cleared of all suspicion. Good job.

“Wow. Okay. That was cruel,” Sam scoffed and gave emphasis to his words by bringing up his right palm dramatically to his chest, right above his now most definitely broken heart. The overall effect got ruined by an annoyingly goofy grin in the end and before you even realised, you had already reached out for your massive mug again to drown your own erupting smile in the hot liquid.

In the silence that followed, however, you saw Sam’s smile fall ever so slightly, as if exhaustion or worry were holding onto the corners of his lips, physically tugging them down, and you shifted slightly uncomfortably in your seat. It was time you had stopped messing around with the poor guy.

“Look, I know this is weird but I’m sure we can find a solution. Just call Sarah so she can stop worrying now,” you suggested, finishing your tea and pushing the now empty mug to the middle of the table before leaning back in your seat.

“Ugh, yeah,” Sam started slowly, squatting down to get his mobile and the charger out of his massive sports bag. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

You blinked at him a couple of times while he waited patiently for your answer. You could only imagine the number of missed calls and unread texts waiting for Sam on his phone, but you decided you didn’t know him enough to give him a lecture on behalf of his sister. So you just gave him a tired nod and gestured lazily towards your battered kitchen counter, Sam following your direction with his gaze.

“Above the microwave. Oh, and the socket farthest to the left–”

“–doesn’t work. I remember.” Sam flashed another exhausted but friendly smirk at you above his shoulder, and you allowed yourself to return the gesture to his back once he wasn’t watching.

“Right, sorry. Forgot I was the intruder here,” you joked, delighted to earn another one of those irritatingly lively chuckles of this man’s.

You seriously needed to get your shit together.

“Okay, while your phone is doing its thing, let’s call Sarah from mine, I guess” you continued, jumping up from your chair the moment Sam returned to the table and you headed towards your worn little couch where you scratched Archie gently behind his right ear. “Where have you put my phone, you dirty old man?” You cooed, smiling softly while sliding your hands under the cheap cushions and booping your irritated cat’s tiny nose when your fingers finally touched the cold metal you had been looking for.

Once seated again, you caught Sam staring at Archie, his eyes slightly narrowed in what appeared to be deep concentration. You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for your uninvited guest to notice you.

“I don’t think your cat likes me too much,” he finally said, slowly tearing his gaze away from the pet feline’s and looking into your slightly more welcoming human eyes instead.

You chuckled dryly, turning around to see Archie in all his glory on the couch. He simply gave you an unbothered look before completely losing interest in the two of you, and he hopped of the couch, slowly making his way towards your bedroom where you knew he would bundle up under your bed on the cosy carpet. He had apparently decided it was time for his beauty sleep.

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. Nothing personal,” you assured Sam, who offered a tired half-smile in return. You cleared your throat gently, eyes fixed on your phone’s screen and fingers already searching for Sarah’s number. Once you had found it, you handed it to Sam whose only job left was to press the call button. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly and he let out a sigh while reaching out for your mobile.

* * *

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually. But he was embarrassed. Sam knew full well how furious his sister was going to be. And honestly, rightfully so. He couldn’t argue with that. After all, she did say there had been something she wanted to talk to him about. And Sam did hang up on her without a passable excuse. And he did let his phone die on his way back home to Louisiana.

Yeah, he most probably wasn't going to be nominated for this year's Brother of the Year award.

Their last call had happened two days before. Two days is a long time without any news from a brother who had just returned after having been believed to be dead for the past five years. And if you had been to ask him, Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had gotten into him either but ever since the Blip, something had not been exactly right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on, so he hadn’t brought it up to anyone, but his brain felt slow and foggy as if it hadn't had time to catch up yet.

Sometimes, Sam worried that the molecules in his brain had been mixed up and hadn't been put back into their original places in the process of the whole turning-into-dust-and-back-into-human-form-again thing.

It was a silly thought, yes, but with everything going on in the world, would it really be that hard to believe?

"Hey hon! What's up?" Sam's thought process was cut off by the endearing voice of his sister, and though he was aware all this affection was not directed towards him – given that he had called Sarah on your phone – his heart did swell upon hearing her again.

And then he said hi and it all went south from there.

Sarah was obviously pissed.

She asked Sam if he had any idea how many texts and missed calls she had left him, and no, he had no clue but if he had to guess, the number would have been way high up in the double digits.

Then she started going off on Sam, using different kinds of actually very creative euphemisms – which was a problem because Sam got so distracted by his sister's choice of words that her short, well-thought out rant had very little effect on him, but at least he had enough self-respect left to get his sister off speaker at this point.

"Look, Sarah, I know I messed up but I'm fine! I swear," he started, cutting his sister short while subconsciously picking at the skin around the nail on his index finger with his thumb. "What if I stop by Andy's and tell him to give me their best apple pie?" Sam added, hoping this promise would serve as an ice-breaker. Sarah did love her desserts. A lot. And Andy always gave a discount to the Wilson family, too.

When he heard his sister's tired sigh, Sam's heart gave a hopeful flutter, but he was rudely dragged back onto the ground on his way to cloud nine the very next second.

"I'm doing the shopping at the moment. Just got here and it's gonna take long," Sarah replied, annoyance poking through all her words. Then, the tension that had been dominating the pair's call suddenly seemed to evaporate as Sam sensed a weak shadow of a smile in her following sentence. "But that apple pie does sound good."

Sam couldn't help the grin that creeped its way onto his face and he didn't even care about Sarah's semi-serious threat, saying how they were nowhere near finished yet. He muttered out a quick sorry again, promised Sarah to give her regards to you and finished the call with a charming 'I love you' to which his sister replied with a snarky 'I bet' before hanging up with a promise that she would call again when she got home.

Sam let out a relieved chuckle before handing you back your phone and taking the final sip of his slightly lukewarm coffee, watching your bright red-nailed fingers tap away on the device, and he swallowed harder and probably louder than he had meant to. You just happened to put your phone down the very next second, so he tried to cover up the gulp by clearing his throat and shifting his gaze from your nails to your eyes.

Beautiful eyes.

Well shit.

"So, I guess you're staying," you started hesitantly, raising your eyebrows at Sam in a slightly impatient manner, which snapped him out of his blissful thoughts and thrust him back into reality.

Was he staying? He certainly had nowhere to go now that he was practically homeless and his sister was unable to welcome him in her own home for the next two hours, at least. But then again, you were a complete stranger whose afternoon he had just disrupted, and it didn't matter how weird it felt seeing you be so at home in his apartment because it wasn't his anymore. It was yours and you had all the right to kick Sam out and he had absolutely zero right to argue.

But, thankfully, he didn't have to.

"Which is fine, by the way. I did promise you an explanation, after all." Sam couldn't quite ignore the hint of dread behind your words and he was ready to object, to leave you alone and spend the rest of his afternoon doing God-knows-what, but then you offered him another cup of coffee followed by a tiny but honest smile, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

Sam Wilson was ridiculously easy to open up to.

It made you want to commit a crime.

His gaze was so intensely warm that after a while, you were looking at everything in your apartment but him just to avoid accidentally trauma dumping on him, especially when you got to the part about group therapy.

Because you had met Sarah at a group therapy session approximately four and a half years before.

It had been clear from the very first minute that neither of you had actually wanted to be there and that both of you had been forced into this situation. Sarah had been dragged to group by an overly enthusiastic co-worker of hers whose crush on the counselor had been probably more intense than the trauma she had suffered – she had lost a dog and her neighbor to the right whom she had always talked shit about behind his back. She was a nice enough woman, but considering that people had lost actual family in the Snap, her presence had always been mostly aggravating, to say the least.

In your case, it had been your grandmother who had bullied you into going to one of the sessions because 'she had the same rotten mentality when Miss Taylor told her to go but then she found it life-changing'. At this point, you had become so indifferent to everything in the world that you hadn't needed much convincing to go. You had told yourself it would be one session anyway after which you would have told Grandma Ethel that 'therapy was simply not for you' and could have been back to your usual Thursday evening routine consisting of a cheap bottle of red wine and depressing reruns of trashy British reality shows from the late 2000s.

The actual sessions had never worked for you. They might have if you had actually spoken up at any of them but you had never become quite ready to talk about your loss in front of a dozen other people, most of whom you had already known. But then you had met Sarah and something about her had made you feel secure, secure enough to talk about them for the first time, so you had started hanging out at a café not too far from the community center and it had become the best thing in your life.

"And the rest is history," you finished, getting up from your chair to put both yours and Sam's mug in the sink and watered your nearby plants while at it.

"I'm really glad Sarah had someone by her side," Sam commented and you could hear a hint of guilt in his words but you decided to ignore it. You simply nodded and muttered out a weak 'yeah', saying you were just as happy to have found a friend like Sarah.

Then Sam said something that made all the muscles in your body tense up and you froze completely for the next couple of seconds.

"And have you seen your family yet? Now that they've come back?"

It was an innocent question. He doesn't know the whole story. So calm down.

You slowly put down the glass you had used earlier to water your plants and tried with every particle in your body to put on the best toothpaste commercial-worthy smile you could force out of yourself before turning back towards Sam and answering his absolutely understandable question.

"Yeah!" No. "They're doing well, actually!" They're fucking dead.

Sam's genuinely happy smile was way too much to handle and if it hadn't been for a call from Sarah, you would have broken down in tears right in front of him the very next moment.

So instead of all that, you decided to turn right back around, pour yourself a huge glass of cold tapwater and down it in one breath while Sam finished his brief conversation with his sister. The stinging pain in your chest that followed was enough to distract your thoughts until he was finally at the door, saying goodbye and thanking your for the coffee and saying sorry for intruding and taking absolutely way too fucking long to finally leave.

"Hey, um... I could give you my number? If you ever need anything or..."

He can't be serious.

"Sure! You can, ugh, put it in my phone," you replied, your hands shaking dangerously as you reached into your back pocket for your mobile and handed it to Sam, who knew better than to comment on it.

Once finished, he returned your phone with one of those irritatingly joyful smiles of his and with a final 'see you around' Sam Wilson was off and you proudly patted yourself on the back for successfully holding it together until you finally reached your couch.

* * *

mini-series taglist – let me know if you want to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

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@samuelthomaswillson

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mcu taglist – join here

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#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson headcanon #the falcon #the falcon x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu mini series #mcu reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #sarah wilson

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jazzistolkienfanfics · 4 years

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Melleth - Legolas x Reader

Type: Imagine Pairing: Legolas x reader Summary: Y/N knows some Elvish, but she confuses the two meanings for one word Legolas is continually saying: melleth (which can translate to both ‘female friend’ and ‘love’) Warnings: middle finger, mentions of being high, crushing obliviousness, ‘shit’ Word Count: 1462

Y/N and Legolas certainly made for a strange pairing wherever they went. Y/N, constantly covered in sweat, dirt, and occasionally blood, a decent height but absolutely dwarfed by elves (or most men, really), with a mouth like a drunken sailor also high on pipeweed and an irritating level of clumsiness. Legolas, ethereal, stupidly good-looking Prince of Mirkwood, taller than was comfortable for Y/N, never tripped onto his face in front of other royals, and spoke in a calm, agreeable voice on most occasions.

Outsiders to their life would never have assumed them acquaintances, let alone the most familiar of friends, with constant inside jokes with one another and the occasional awkward moment brought on by what the less ... stately members of society liked to call ‘sexual tension’.

According to Y/N, Legolas had absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. She’d heard his stories of his ex-flame, Tauriel, and how his father, King Thranduil, had declared her a ‘lowly Silvan elf’. The beautiful, talented, Captain-of-the-Guard Tauriel, ‘lowly’. Y/N was quiet certain Thranduil would choke on his imported wine if he heard of a human girl who was infatuated with his son, who didn’t like her anyway, as far as Y/N was concerned and aware.

Y/N allowed herself some of her rare minutes alone, when she wasn’t caught up in all the action and battle as a result of joining the Fellowship after they’d helped her in a battle against Orcs, to contemplate on what life could be like with Legolas, permitted herself to briefly think of how he would hug her, how he would kiss h-

“Y/N! Are you coming, melleth?” the blonde elf in question called her name from where he exited the stable where Arod and Hasufel were kept.

Y/N jumped in surprise, her cheeks now a deep red and she was fervently thanking the Valar that Legolas was not telepathic. Though her embarrassment was muffled by the disappointment at hearing him call her ‘friend’. “Mellon! (friend!) Yeah, I’ll be right with you.”

Legolas’s face fell almost imperceptibly at her use of the word friend - he was constantly confused that every time he greeted her as ‘love’ Y/N would respond with ‘friend’. The beautiful, wild, headstrong human girl, he’d fallen for from the moment he first spoke to her, rejecting him so casually day after day, and yet still smiling at him and hugging him and ... it was all very confusing for Legolas. He knew that elves only fell deeply, truly in love once in their long, long lifetimes, and he was so sidetracked by her continuous ... ‘friend-zoning’ that he didn’t know if his feelings for her were the true kind, or just the kind he’d harboured for Tauriel - the same love young, naive children declared for each other.

But he did know that he found Y/N very attractive - from her e/c eyes that could hold thousands of emotions and subtleties at once, to her s/c skin that pleasantly reflected sunlight and was soft despite the fact it often had some small amount of dirt or blood on it, not to mention her unruly h/c hair that she was constantly blowing out of her face/fidgeting with in a most adorable manner.

“Hey! Legolas!” the blonde elf jumped at the unexpected speech, looking down and starting when he saw her only centimetres away from him. “We going, or what?”

“Yes, of course,” he stuttered a little, then cleared his throat and smoothened out his speech. “Come on.”

He mounted Arod in one smooth movement, and held out his hand to Y/N. She was definitely gladdened by the fact that he was inviting her to hold his hand, but she glanced suspiciously at the horse he sat upon.

“Normally, I just walk next to you,” she said, and Legolas cursed internally at her quite valid statement.

“Aragorn said that we must move quickly today,” he said quickly. The Ranger had, indeed, said that. “And Arod does not like Gimli very much. So ... would you ride with me?”

Y/N grinned and let him pull her up so she sat in front of him, leaning over Arod’s neck. Legolas brought his arms around her waist so he could hold the reins. Gimli looked at the two of them and muttered something about ‘lovesick fools’, which made Legolas shoot him a scathing glare and Y/N give him a withering middle finger. Aragorn just sighed quietly, mounting Hasufel and pulling Frodo up.

---

Hours later, Y/N began to shift uncomfortably and blink sleepily.

“It’s all right, melleth,” Legolas said kindly. “You can lean on me.” He was silently hoping, praying that she would say anything but-

“Thank you, mellon,” Y/N said through a quiet yawn, leaning backwards so her head (and then her entire top half) was resting against Legolas’s chest.

The elf waited until he heard her breathing even out, and he was sure she was asleep, before he began to talk to her softly.

“Why must you do this to me, Y/N? Why do you flirt with me and blush around me and then reject me moments later?”

Unbeknownst to Legolas, who was still expressing his frustration aloud, Y/N had opened her eyes, and was fully awake and listening.

“I don’t understand!” he burst out, almost making Y/N reveal that she was awake as she struggled not to jump in shock. “I say that I love you, I call you love ... is it a human thing to ignore romantic advances?”

“Oh!” Y/N couldn’t stop herself and she sat straight up, twisting around to look at Legolas, who was somehow both pale with shock and flushed with embarrassment at once. “Melleth! It means love in Sindarin, doesn’t it? Shit - I thought you were calling me friend!”

Legolas took the hand that was holding the reins and smacked himself on the forehead. “I forgot that I was the one who taught you Sindarin! And I taught you that melleth meant-”

“-friend,” Y/N finished. “Does it really mean love?”

At this point, Legolas was wondering whether to tell Y/N the truth or not: to save him from the crushing mortification he felt of misunderstanding her for a period of months, but he decided that a late confession of his feelings would be better than potentially hurting her. Not that she would be hurt if she didn’t return his feelings, which was what he expected after Tauriel.

“Yes, Y/N, it does,” he said slowly, looking at her - her e/c eyes wide with confusion. “I told you that elves only love once in their lives. And I think that my love is you.”

“You ... love me.” Y/N repeated slowly, knowing she sounded stupid but being too shocked to care.

“Yes. And you probably don’t-”

“Legolas, if you say ‘you probably don’t love me’, so help me I will throw you off this horse.”

Legolas blinked rapidly.

“I kept thinking you were deliberately calling me friend because you knew I was attracted to you and you were discouraging me!” Y/N explained. “And, honestly, look at you! You’re the Prince of Mirkwood! And you’re an elf - I didn’t even think that elves fell in love with humans.”

“We do,” Legolas smiled, his entire expression transforming into one of soft happiness. “Or, at least ... I do.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, before laughing loudly and unapologetically. Legolas’s face fell a little.

“I am so stupid,” Y/N laughed. “I can’t believe I kept calling you friend.”

She turned on the horse, lifting one leg over so she now sat side-saddle, and gently reached out, touching his cheek so softly it felt like a stroke of the wind.

“I am sorry for hurting you,” you said, taking a deep breath to steady yourself for what you would say next. “Gi melin. (I love you)”

Legolas breathed in sharply, surprise sketched all over his features. You gave a low chuckle.

“I thought elves were meant to be more observant than this.”

Legolas just rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips softly. He tasted like the kind of pure, sweet water one could drink straight from a spring, and like something citrusy and a little earthy. Everything he did was gentle - how he pulled her towards him, how his lips softly brushed across hers, and how his arms wrapped around his waist.

“OI!” Y/N and Legolas broke apart at the loud shout, that had come from Gimli’s direction. “STOP MAKING OUT AND KEEP MOVING! Oh, and Aragorn? You owe me ten gold.”

Aragorn muttered something under his breath along the lines of ‘shit’, waving a hand for you to get moving.

Legolas kicked Arod into motion, both of his arms remaining firmly around your waist. “Gi melin, melleth.”

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to heart this imagine, give me a follow and/or request (it makes my day so much!).

#legolasxreader #legolas #xreader #lordoftherings #lotr #lotrxreader #you #x reader #legolas x reader #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #imagine #legolasimagine #legolas imagine

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aotimagines · 4 years

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Aperture [1]

Hey. Remember when this blog hit 5,000 followers and I mentioned I was going to be writing something self-indulgent? The moment has finally arrived, lol. The idea spiraled way out of control before I could stop myself so here we are. This is probably not what the anon meant when they sent this in, but I couldn’t stop myself from plotting this story out. It’ll probably have around 8-10 chapters and I want to be realistic and say I’ll be able to update frequently, but there are no promises. My goal is for a new chapter every two weeks, but it’ll probably be closer to once a month. It will contain NSFW at some point, so minors do not interact. To the anon who sent this request in almost a year ago, I am so sorry this has taken me this long to write. I apologize and hope that this suffices. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

“Could you lift your head and look towards the camera, please?”

Your breath was nearly whisked away from your lungs at the sight of your model’s eyes flickering towards you, the intensity swirling behind his irises rooting you to your spot. They reflected the ocean itself—deep, vibrant, and tumultuous just like rolling waves and you felt yourself drowning at sea. You could barely tear your eyes away from his ethereal beauty; from the sharp angle of his jaw, to his sinewy, sun-kissed skin. Each and every ripple of muscle resembled someone akin to a Greek statue over real life and the longer you looked at your model, the more difficult it became to stop your eyes from gazed lower…

Immediately, you brought your camera back up to your eye to conceal your reverie and took another photo, peeling the camera back to examine the frame you had just taken with more intense than you should have. “Great!” Your voice came out rushed and quick—high and pitchy. You wanted to die right then and there on the spot, but you needed to act more professional even if you couldn’t resist the temptation to ogle your client’s perfectly sculpted, perfectly nude body.

It was wrong. It was beyond heinous but, the instant Eren Jaeger walked out to your photoshoot and shed his robe, his stunning looks had been on your mind. As a professional photographer, you had seen your fair share of models, both nude and not, so why were you acting so ridiculous? There was something undeniably electric about Eren and the way he was able to express so much emotion through his eyes alone. After having worked with him for only an hour, you could definitely see why he was scouted to be a model. There was an air of shyness that radiated off him despite the wave of confidence that brimmed so brightly from within. It was cute, which felt foreign and almost like an insult when thinking about the man standing before you.

Still, you needed to maintain your composure and do your job. You could allow yourself to be dazzled by your model for a moment, but now you needed to get back to work. Standing, you exchanged a friendly smile with Eren and motioned to his hands, pointing out, “Do you mind if we get some close-up shots of the watch? I know the campaign said that they wanted a full body shot, but I’d like to give some other options…”

“Sure,” he agreed, his electric gaze never leaving your face even as he held out his wrist and loosened the tension. Immediately, you snapped into your role as the photographer and began taking photos, unaware that you inching several steps closer.

Captivated with the elegance of his long, deft fingers, you became enraptured in your own little world and mindless gave instruction and praise, your prior embarrassment all but gotten. You were unaware of the way Eren’s eyes were glued to your every expression; the way your tongue would push through your lips as you found an angle or shape you liked. As exhilarated as you were to photograph him, Eren was, in kind, just as thrilled to way the way you worked. It was difficult tot keep cool and focus on his job with the way you moved around him, the sheer delight across your face almost tangible. He had been subjected to many photographers, some good and bad, but never…

“Okay!” Your voice dragged him from his thoughts, your lips curved into a soft, gentle smile. “I think we got it? Good work, Eren. You were great.”

“Ah—thanks,” he replied, the fabric of his robe hitting his shoulders before he realized it. One of the assistants must have gotten it for him and it took him all but five seconds to realize that he was still standing before you, naked. His cheeks heated up, a tennis ball lodged in the back of his throat, but he managed to force out, “You were a good photographer. It was, uh…easy to follow your instruction.”

You were positively beaming by the time he glanced at your face, eyes wide and sparkling. “Thank-you! That means a lot, especially since I’m kind of new to working on a professional set and everything.”

“Seriously!” Eren couldn’t believe that he was still continuing the conversation—continuing to praise you, a complete and utter stranger—but here he was. Eren was not the type of person to be physically attracted to anyone right off the bat, but there was something so…mesmerizing about you that he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. “It was a nice shoot. I didn’t even realize we were here for a couple hours.”

“Me either,” came your confession, camera clutched between your hands. “You take direction really well. Oh!” As if an idea just came to your head, you moved to the monitors behind the lights and popped out your SD card, gently sliding the chip inside the reader. Angling your chin, you glanced up at his features, your eyes shining with complete and utter excitement. “Want to see some of the shots? I usually offer to let the models see so they can view the before and after.”

“Uh…” Eren contemplated it for a moment, his mind very cognizant of the fact that he was still only wearing a robe. You seemed completely oblivious to it, which dashed some of his prior thoughts. A moment passed by until he cracked a smile and moved closer to gaze down at the computer monitor. “Sure. I don’t really get a chance to see what I can improve on, or anything.”

Your fingers clicked open the file folder, pulling up the images you had taken not even ten minutes ago. Scrolling through, your eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other as if making mental notes about which ones you wanted to save for editing, later. “Here—this one is really nice,” you said, double-clicking the image until it was pulled up for Eren to see. Despite his nudity being on full display, Eren couldn’t help but notice how…tasteful it was done. Truly, like mentioned in the job description, his focus was on the multitude of watches adorning his wrist, but there was something else about it that…

It was like you had managed to dig deep inside of him and photograph his soul; his emotions. Everything was displayed in his eyes and it took Eren a second to recognize himself. His silence made you worry, hastily bringing up, “Of course, they will look better with editing in post, but—”

Eren shook his head, cutting off your explanation before you could really begin. “No, it’s—it’s not that! Really, the photos are…” He floundered for the right word to describe what you had created; what you had managed to pull out of him and then captured on film. No other photographer had managed that before, so to see himself like that was a little…

“It’s different,” he concluded, gaze still lingering on the images on the screen. “I’m not used to seeing myself look like that. You’re an amazing photographer and I’m sort of struggling to come up with a better compliment than that.”

Visibly, you relaxed upon hearing his praise, pride swelling inside your chest when you realized that he liked the photos. “It makes it easier when my model is able to pull from within, too,” you countered, finally looking up at him after what felt like an eternity. Eren’s eyes met yours and it was like a magnetic field was drawing you closer to him, but you refrained from your urges and settled for exiting out of the photos. It took everything inside of you to swallow back the attraction and fascination that was bubbling inside of you, which only made you antsy and anxious to begin the editing process.

“Anyways, I should let you get dressed. I’m sure you’re itching to get out of here.”

“Ah, right.” Reluctantly, Eren broke eye contact first and stretched, the fabric of his thin robe inching higher against his toned thighs. You jerked your head away from him to conceal the heat crawling across your cheeks and praised whatever deity above that Eren hadn’t paid any attention to your sudden shy demeanor. He seemed to think to himself for a moment before exhaling deeply and walking off, leaving you to skim through the multitude of images you had taken.

A period of time passed because, the next thing you knew, Eren was back by your side, his silky, chocolate-colored tresses pulled back into a bun that rested at the nape of his neck. Small hairs framed his face, only fanning the fuel to his already handsome, boyish looks. You swallowed thickly and offered a smile, rising from your chair to ask, “You heading out?”

“Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you something, first…” Eyebrow quirked, you watched Eren rock back and forth on his feet, a nervous energy teeming off of him. While the two of you knew nothing about each other outside of first and last names, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was typical behavior. He seemed to self-assured whenever he spoke. Was there something wrong with the photos after all? Before you could ask, Eren’s hand shot out and encircled around your wrist, preventing you from turning away or moving back to your computer screen. “Listen,” he pressed closer, temporarily catching you off guard with how bold he was being, “there’s a party happening later tonight. I really don’t want to go, but my manager said it’d be good for connections and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Why?” The question escaped your mouth before you could process what was happening, confusion written across your features. You didn’t pull away from his touch, however, and repeated after a moment of clarity, “You barely know me, Eren. We’re strangers. Shouldn’t you invite one of your friends?”

Eren fell silent for a moment before an uncharacteristic smirk danced across his lips. There was something fierce about the glimmer in his eyes and his body language exuded an amount of confidence he had only displayed the instant his eyes locked with your camera lens earlier that afternoon. He leaned in closer, studying the way your face heated up, before murmuring in a low tone, “I saw the way you were looking at me, earlier.”

Embarrassed, you averted your eyes to the ground. “I’m—I’m sorry! Really, I sometimes get lost in my work and you are beautiful, so I…got swept away. It was unprofessional and I swear it won’t happen again, if we happen to work together.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Eren chuckled, the sound so dizzying that you felt yourself drawn to it—to him—like a moth circling a flame. This was a dangerous game you two were playing and you weren’t sure what kind of out come Eren was looking for. Rather, he released your hand and stepped back, the intensity gone and replaced with a softer, kinder smile. “I liked your photos,” he simply stated, his hand resting against his hip as he continued to stare at you. “And you liked what you were able to get out of me. I just thought it’d be a good opportunity to each to know one another.”

“Professionally?”

“Both,” he easily quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

You ran a hand through your hair, teeth catching your inner cheek. “I don’t know.”

“How about this.” Eren reached for the sharp on your desk and ripped the cap off with his teeth, balancing the piece of plastic between his two lips. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hand again and began to write numbers into your palm, a string of digits staring back up at you. “When you decide what you want to do, you can text me. Even if you don’t want to go with me, specifically, it’d be a good idea to make connections. You said yourself that you’re new to the industry.”

You had said that, didn’t you? Eren’s number stared up at you, silently replaying your words from earlier like a broken record until a heavy, shaky sigh pulled from your lips. You didn’t know what his intentions were, but you figured that you could worry about that, later. Even if you couldn’t decipher Eren’s true nature, the prospect of getting your name out to more people in the industry was too tempting to ignore. “But what do I wear?” you asked weakly, watching as Eren’s features lit up like a light.

“It’s cocktail, but whatever you have should be fine. I really don’t care about what other people are wearing, either way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh genuinely at this, pointing out with amusement dripping from your tone, “Aren’t you a fashion model? Shouldn’t you care about stuff like that?”

Eren scoffed, lips twisted into a smile. “Nah. That kind of stuff is stupid.”

“But then why…?” You stopped, shook your head, and moved to the desk where your cellphone rested. Holding it up, you tilted your head to the side. “So, I’ll text you? I’ll need an address, you know.”

Eren’s name was being called from across the building—probably whoever he brought with him, you noted—but his eyes still lingered on you even as he began to step away. “It’s for seven-thirty. See you!”

You watched as he jogged away until he was completely out of sight, your heart hammering against your ribs repeatedly. You weren’t sure what the hell had just transpired, but the area where his fingers brushed your skin tingled pleasantly as an aftershock effect.

You were way, way in over your head.

#eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren scenarios #eren jaeger imagines #eren imagines #snk imagines #aot imagines #mod elle #idk what else to tag this as #i hope you guys enjoy #srry for all the eren content later #but i warned y'all that i was going to be a lil self indulgent and here it is lol

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

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priorities [miya atsumu x reader] (req)

anon: hello! how are you doing? i hope you're great and feeling well! may i request a one-shot for atsumu? like, atsumu dumps his s/o due to his other priorities (y'know like volleyball) 1-2 months later reader and atsumu encounters at a park. he tries to talk to her in a friendly way but reader avoids him bc she still loves him sm. whenever she sees him she gets an urge to kiss him and punch him at the same time shjsbjshskhks. happy ending please!! thanks in advance ♡♡♡ (i love your writing btw!!)

fran: hi anon :) I'm doing alright and I hope you’re doing well too! thanks for sending this in! I'm glad you said happy ending bc it’s atsumu and I want the best for him 🥺 I really appreciate your kind words! hope you enjoy :)

pairing: miya atsumu x fem reader

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warning(s): a bit of swearing

word count: 1.3k (again, I swear I'll get my mini shots down to 1k and under LMAO a word count limit just never stopped me I guess!!)

With a long sigh, you slow your pace and take a few moments to walk off an annoying cramp that’s developed in your calf. The music you’d had blaring through your earbuds seems way too loud now given that you’re no longer running through the busy streets and have reached a quiet park instead, so you take your phone out of your pocket to turn it down. While you do some light stretches to alleviate the pain, a cool breeze floating through the air reminds you not only of how sweaty you are but of the time.

It’s early enough in the evening for the sun’s dying rays to linger in the sky for about a half an hour longer. The city streets are packed with the traffic of workers heading home for the day or venturing out in search of dinner. Though it’s a challenge weaving in amongst people going about their end of the day activities, being immersed in liveliness is enough to distract you from the somber mood you’d been stuck in for about two months now.

Breakups were never easy, but this one had been harder for you to shake off than the others, mostly because you’d been deeply in love with the man who’d shattered your heart. And, of course, being told you weren’t a priority had only added insult to injury.

You hadn’t expected yourself to be completely healed of your heartache in two months, but you also hadn't anticipated that you’d still be so broken up about it that you pined for him every moment your mind wasn’t occupied. It was torturous, and you wanted to move on from it.

Running was one way you could literally and figuratively escape from your problems, but you knew you could only avoid them for so long before they caught up to you. Now, as your mind idles once more, your thoughts return to you again in full force.

Another runner’s tall figure further down the path ahead captures your attention when you lift your head from inspecting your leg, and your heart instantly drops into your stomach. That unmistakable blonde head of hair painted a vibrant orange in the rays of the setting sun, a black jacket bearing the name of a professional volleyball team, and a body chiseled by the gods themselves were instant indicators of the man’s identity.

Shit, you think frantically, wracking your brain for different routes you can take to avoid crossing paths with him. But, it’s too late.

“(F/n)?” you hear him call out to you in between breaths, the pounding of his footsteps echoing closer and closer to you with each moment that passes.

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to pretend like you don’t hear him, turn on your heels, and start jogging in the opposite direction. You know it’s lame to be running away from your ex-boyfriend, but it’s the only option you can think of to avoid having contact with him. However, your fatigue quickly catches up with you, and the pain in your calf makes it hard to escape as gracefully as you’d like.

“(F/n)!”

When you hear his voice again, he’s right beside you, touching your shoulder to grab your attention, as if you hadn’t just seen him and tried but failed to avoid a conversation with him. With a sigh, you surrender, bringing yourself to a halt and taking your earbuds out. The pain surging through your irritated calf muscle makes you grumble softly and avert your eyes from his curious gaze to examine it once more.

“Hey, are ya okay?” he wonders, dark amber gaze traveling to where your fingers are kneading into the back of your leg.

With a dismissive wave of the hand, you lie, “I’m fine.”

When your eyes finally meet, you feel all the emotions you’ve been holding back threaten to boil over. All the love you still felt for him as well as the disdain you’d been harboring towards him since your breakup floods your thoughts. You can’t decide if you want to kiss him or punch him in the face, but, since neither’s acceptable at the moment, you place your hands in your pockets and let out a slow exhale.

“So, how are ya?” he wonders, removing his own pair of earbuds and brushing a few, shining droplets of sweat away from his forehead.

“What are you doing here?” you ask curtly.

His thick eyebrows furrow in confusion as he responds, “Whaddya mean? Why can’t I enjoy a brisk, evenin’ run through a public park?”

Narrowing your eyes at him and shifting your weight off your injured leg, you state, “You can. It’s just that this park isn’t exactly in your area.” His lips settle into a deep frown, and he remains silent for a beat. “Seriously, Atsumu, what do you want? I’m trying to move on like you told me to.”

“Okay,” he grumbles, breaking eye contact to look anywhere but at you as he admits, “Maybe I’ve been comin’ through here every now n’ then on my runs hopin’ that I’d bump into you.”

The vulnerability in his tone and demeanor sends a pang of sadness rippling through your body. You voice is nearly inaudible as you whisper, “Why?”

“Because I wanna talk to ya, (f/n).” His answer is instantaneous--spoken without a hint of hesitation despite how embarrassed you’d assumed he would be to confess anything that he thought would make him look weak or desperate.

His hand extends towards you, as if requesting that you remove yours from your pocket so he can hold it. You deny him this access with a shake of the head, though it makes your eyes sting ever so slightly to reject him. “About what?” is your next inquiry.

There’s a much longer pause as he summons his courage with a deep breath and finally turns his face toward you so your eyes can meet. “I fucked up, okay? I shoulda never treated ya like you were just livin’ yer life in my world. I shoulda never been stupid enough to think that volleyball was more important my own girlfriend, ‘nd that I had to choose between that ‘nd you. Never. I shoulda never made ya feel as if you were second best. I won’t forgive myself for doin’ that to ya.”

You dig your thumb into the cuff of your jacket and raise it to your cheek to wipe away a few, stray tears that had escaped without warning. Judging by the look of yearning in his eyes, he probably wants more than anything to embrace you and litter your skin with gentle apologies in the form of kisses. Keeping the distance between the two of you is painful, but you know how susceptible you are to him since your wounds never had time to heal.

“I’m literally so in love with ya, (f/n). So in love with ya that I don’t care that I'm here, puttin’ my pride aside to admit that I royally fucked up ‘nd tell ya that I wantcha back. These past couple of months without ya have been hell.”

“’Tsumu,” you whimper softly with a sniffle, willing yourself to regain your composure so you didn’t turn into a sobbing mess in such a public place.

Upon hearing his nickname leave your mouth, a small smile creeps onto his lips before he asks, “Will ya give me another shot ‘nd lemme treat ya to dinner?”

In the scenarios you’d imagined in your head for this very moment, you acted tougher--reminding him that you deserve more and acting cold and indifferent toward him. But, now, in this moment, after the sincerity of the apology he’s given, all you can do is nod and say, “It’s going to take a bit of time, but I’m open to trying again.”

A grin graces his handsome features as he offers, “I can tell yer leg’s hurtin’ ya, so I’ll give ya a piggyback ride to any restaurant of yer choice in exchange for a drive home. Jus’ pick a place nearby, would ya?”

“Okay,” you accept and wipe away any tears left on your face. He brushes a few strands of your hair away from your face in a tender gesture before turning around so you can climb onto his back and let him cart you off to get a much-needed meal as a first step towards rebuilding a better relationship with him.

#fran writes hq!!#fran writes for: anon #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #hq!!#haikyuu #anime #manga #cute #fluff #angst #fran writes requests!!

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Riding High

Ch7: Ordinary People

Chapter Summary: Frank faces the aftermath of his dumbass choice whilst Mary heads to Boston for a few days. When the court case starts, emotions are running high and Frank finally confesses his feelings to Fliss.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Flashback at the start involving domestic violence.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, however they can also be done pretty fast. With that in mind, and because it fits with how I want the story to go I’m spreading it over approximately 6 weeks or so, so just roll with me!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

"I saw you...he had his hands all over you."

"John, I didn't want him too...he was drunk, just being over friendly..."

Fliss cowered as a sneer crossed her husband's face, the features she found so handsome once upon a time were distorted in anger, his dark green eyes clouded with rage as he towered over where she sat on the crouch. In a flash he had reached out and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Fliss gave a cry of pain, stumbling after him as he dragged her up the stairs. She tripped at one point, her hip colliding painfully with one of the steps but he paid it no attention.

No mercy.

"You're mine, Sugar.” He said, his voice steely. “You know that."

"I know," she sobbed as he threw her into the bedroom where she scrambled for purchase on the bed as he pushed her so hard she fell face down. Before Fliss could raise herself, John had grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face harshly into the pillows.

"Why do you make me do this, Felicity?" He asked, releasing his hold as his thighs bracketed hers. Fliss heard the tell-tale clinking of his belt and she gave another sob, knowing full well what was coming. He roughly pushed her dress up over her hips, leaving her underwear clad ass exposed.

And then the leather stuck her. Again. And again. And again.

"I'll mark you so hard no one else will ever want you," he snarled as he continued his assault ignoring her screams of pain and pleas for him to leave her alone. “You’re mine..." Fliss sat bolt upright, gasping as she glanced around her bedroom. She was shaking violently, the dream had been so real, so vivid, she could almost physically feel the pain. John had belted her so badly that night she hadn't been able to ride for a week, and she still bore the marks where the buckle had ripped through her skin.

The worst thing was, that after he had finished, he had held her, stroking her hair, soothing her, explaining why he had to punish her so much. It was sick, twisted. Just like him. "He’s gone, he was to blame. I’m strong, not weak, I’m strong, not weak." she repeated her mantra through gritted teeth. Thor, hearing her breathing deeply and her trembling voice, jumped up onto her bed and shoved his head under her arm as she hugged her kneed tightly. Looking down at her faithful dog, she buried her face into his fur, holding him tight as she ran through her calming thoughts in her head. The sound of the ocean, the wind in her hair as she galloped on the beach, the soft and gentle hugs she received from her dad, her mum...and dare she even think it, Frank. And then another image filled her head. The sight of him kissing Bonnie at the bar.

“Wanker.” She muttered, wiping the tears from her face as Thor licked her cheek, his tail wagging as she stroked him. With a few more deep intakes of air, her breathing evened out and she gave Thor a final squeeze before she pushed the duvet down and swung her legs out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

***** Frank had also woken up to a nightmare. His head was pounding from the shots he’d downed at the bar and being jerked awake by Bonnie’s screams as Mary had turned up in the apartment earlier than she was allowed on a Saturday hadn’t exactly helped the situation. He had fucked Mary’s school teacher for no reason other than the fact he was drunk, stressed and needed a release.

Well played, Adler, you fucking moron.

Thankfully, Bonnie seemed to be in the same place as him about the entire situation, hastily telling him that it should never have happened, something he profoundly agreed with, as he saw her out to a cab, apologising for Mary’s interruption, literally incapable of thinking of anything else to say. It was the most awkward morning after he had ever experienced in his life.

And there was something else compounding his growing bad mood. When he had finally checked his phone as he stood outside for a few moments after Bonnie had gone, hoping the fresh air would sort his head out, he realised he had a number of messages and missed calls from Fliss. Groaning he remembered that he should have called her after the court case but had completely forgotten. Firing her a quick apology, along with a promise to talk to her later when it was time for Mary’s lesson, before he headed back inside.

Mary was sat on the rug with her lego, pieces scattered all over, Ice Age playing on the TV.

“Awkward…” she sing songed

“Mary.” Frank looked at her for a moment and when she didn’t look at him he crouched down “Stop! Stop! Stop with the Legos. Listen.” he took a breath and she looked at him “Do we have a rule about Saturday morning?”

“What?” she asked softly

“Are you allowed in this apartment this early on Saturday morning?” Frank pressed, looking at her.

“No.” Mary sighed, averting her eyes from his.

“No!” Frank nodded, his voice a little louder before he paused again “Are you allowed to... hey!” he reached out to stop Mary as she returned to her Toys. “Stop! Enough with the Lego. Are you allowed to use Roberta's keys?”

“No.” she still wasn’t looking at him.

“No! So, hey! Look at me. Then why are you here? Huh? Can you answer me that?”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears but Frank was too angry at the fact she had disobeyed him to comfort her.

“You broke every rule! You just embarrassed me. We have these rules.” He angrily stood up, turning to head back out of the door into the kitchen “We've gone over them a hundred times!” And then, when he stepped on a piece of Lego in his bare feet, his frustration boiled over as he hopped on one leg, clutching the side of the dresser which was pushed flush against the wall.

“Shit…God, damned it…” He yelled as he slapped the side of the dresser, leaning against it, bending down to rub his foot. “Can I just get five minutes of my own life?”

At that Mary jumped up and bolted into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Frank stood up, before he sighed, one hand on his hip, his eyes closed. He’d overreacted, he knew that. He was more pissed at himself for being an idiot than he was at Mary. He ran his hand over his face and glanced at the clock. Mary’s riding lesson was at two and it was now just pushing ten-thirty. Deciding to leave Mary to cool down before he made breakfast, he headed into the kitchen to clear up yesterday’s dishes.

He heard the door to his room click open about twenty minutes later. Giving her another ten he wiped the counter down before he made his way back into the main room and sat on the edge of her bed, where she was snuggled down in her alcove which sported a collection of shells they had stuck to the wood panels and a few photos, one of her mom, one of her and Frank and one of her and Fliss with Monty. She was huddled in the corner, Fred laying on her knee, the laptop resting on his back as she tapped away.

“Nothing that happened today was your fault.” Frank spoke gently and looked at her “I got mad at you...I was really mad at me,” he looked at her and she continued to ignore him, “and the manufacturers of Legos. They should all be in prison. So I'm sorry.” he said gently. She paused tapping but still didn’t look at him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Sure. Whatever.” she mumbled.

“Hey, close the laptop. Come on. Please.” He watched her as she avoided looking at him. “Doesn't count if it's not eye to eye.”

She hesitated so he asked again, gently. “Come on, please.”

With a sigh she did was she was told and looked at him. Her eyes, so like Diane’s, were full of sadness and Frank felt his gut twist in guilt.

“Do you really have no life because of me?” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears and Frank cursed himself for his outburst before.

He shook his head. “That's not what I said.” he looked at her.

“Did you mean it?” she pressed, not buying his statement for one minute, her voice soft.

“Last week you said I was the worst Uncle in the world, and you wished death upon me ‘cause I didn't buy you a piano.” Frank held her gaze. “Did you mean that?”

“No” Mary replied, her fingers tangling in Fred’s fur “Not entirely.”

“Well,” Frank said, not bothering to ask which bit she had actually meant. “There you go. We say things all the time we don't mean. So let's forget it, okay?”

“Okay” Mary agreed

“Okay.” Frank nodded, standing up

“Frank?” she called as he headed towards the door to head down and check the mail. He stopped and turned back, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a piano?”

“No.” he deadpanned, turning for the door.

He strode down across the lawn to the mail boxes, unlocked his and pulled out two letters. One looked like a bill, the other was in a manila coloured envelope, and was stamped with some kind of official seal.

“Was that really Mary's teacher this morning?” Roberta appeared. He glanced at her and returned to his post “And there was me thinking Fliss would stop you doing anything stupid.”

Frank’s head shot up “Fliss?” he frowned “What are you talking about?”

“She came here last night, to see you. Mary roped her into Karaoke before she left and said she was going to come and find you at Fergs”

Frank frowned. “Well she didn’t. I never saw her last night so she-”

Oh,fuck fuck fuck!

He trailed off with a groan as he realised that she had probably seen him with Bonnie and then felt a stinging slap round the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, glaring at Roberta “Jesus, that fucking hurt!”

“Good.” she stared at him. “You know I have a book called ‘Fundamentals of Decision Making’. You can borrow it.”

He glared at her, he didn’t need this. Not now. His attention turned back to the letter and he noticed the seal was from the court house. With a frown he opened it. The header- ‘Highsmith, Kistler & Sellers Attorneys at Law’ -greeted him and he started to read. It was an order for him to surrender Mary for two days into Evelyn’s care, at a time and date to be agreed. It wasn’t unexpected but it was pretty fast considering it had only been agreed yesterday. His mother really wasn’t wasting any time.

“What is it?” Roberta asked, noticing the frown on his face

“Its nothing.” he said, leaning on the post box, still reading the letter. “Looks like Mary gets to go to Boston for a couple days.” He noticed Roberta stiffen and he looked at her. “It's just two days. Relax.” he said gently.

Because he was always honest with Mary, he sat down once he was back inside and told her about the letter. She knew there was a court case going on, he had explained it all to her as best as he could so as not to cause her any worry. She soaked up the information and shrugged before saying that going to Boston sounded kinda cool. Frank simply nodded and said that he would sort out the dates on Monday. They ate a late breakfast-slash-early lunch and once Mary was changed and ready, they headed up to the riding school.

As Frank drove there his stomach was doing flips, the nerves at seeing Fliss were overwhelming, more so because he had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was strange, he felt guilty about the fact he’d slept with Bonnie, even though he had no real reason to. It wasn’t like he and Fliss were an item.

Fliss greeted Mary with the usual warmth before she turned her gaze to Frank, and he could see the hurt in her eyes, compounding that guilty feeling even more.

“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.” he offered and she shrugged.

“It’s okay, I know you were busy.” her voice carried no sarcasm, it was measured and cool but Frank knew she was referring to Bonnie, his suspicions confirmed. She turned away, barking an instruction to Joanne who looked at her, nodding.

Frank leaned on the paddock fence as he always did, a little way from the other parents and watched as Fliss taught the three girls, that gorgeous smile on her face. Mary was certainly getting the hang of it now and was able to trot around unaided. After about forty minutes they were done and heading out of the paddock. Fliss made no attempt to come and speak to him, like normal, and made straight for her office. Casting an eye on Mary who was leading Monty back to the stable he followed Fliss.

“I take it you’re mad at me.” he spoke tentatively.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, pulling three cartons of apple juice out of the fridge for the kids.

“Because you saw me last night with Bonnie.” he pressed.

He saw her stiffen slightly before she took a breath and turned round.

“I’m not mad.” she shrugged.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I just, well I think you could have considered Mary a little more, that’s all.” “What does that mean?” he frowned.

“You know damned well what it means.” she looked at him “Mary told me before when we were tacking the ponies up that she saw Bonnie this morning, wrapped in one of your sheets. I mean, Jesus Frank that’s her teacher. Can you imagine how awkward its gonna be if any of the kids find out that you’re fucking her?” “Ok, I’m not fucking her.” Frank held his hand out to stop her.

“So what were you doing last night then?” Fliss hissed, “Playing scrabble?”

“Hang on, are we really arguing about this?” Frank looked at her, frowning. “Why? Why do you even care?”

He paused, looking at her. Her eyes locked onto his and she swallowed, and for a moment he hoped she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear but she shook her head and shrugged.

“You know what, you’re right. What, or who you do in your spare time is your business, not mine.”

With that she pushed past him and headed out into the yard. Frank let out another sigh before he headed out to collect Mary.

******

Fliss made no attempts to speak to Frank over the next few days. He messaged her to tell her about Mary heading to Boston at the end of the week and she replied politely, telling him that she was sure it would all work out, but beyond that she didn’t reach out further. However, she did call to wish Mary a safe trip to on the Thursday morning just before Evelyn arrived to pick her up, and told her she wanted to hear all about it when she came home on Saturday afternoon. By the time Frank got the phone back, Fliss had hung up.

“Frank she likes you. “ Roberta said when she popped over to wish Mary goodbye. Mary wasted no time in informing her that the reason Frank was in a bad mood wasn’t just because she was going to Boston, but also because Fliss was angry at him. Of course she had noticed, because she noticed everything. “She’s hurt and it’s yo’ own dumbass fault.”

Yeah, yeah he got that.

With Mary gone, he decided that night to take a cool box of beer down to the harbour and work late. He was in the middle of pulling a gear box apart when his phone went. It was a message from Bonnie asking if she could meet him to talk. Which was how he found himself sat on the deck of the boat, her opposite him, both wrapped in blankets and clutching bottles of Bud.

“I have had a series of nightmares, where I'm fired because of what happened. You get it?” Bonnie shook her head, rolling her eyes. Frank smiled at her as she laughed “And then I remind myself, that everything that happened, was just all the alcohol and people do far worse right?”

At that Frank laughed. “Yeah we were pretty drunk.”

Truth be told whilst he did think Bonnie was attractive, there was nothing there, and that was compounded by the fact that as he sat, looking at her, he felt no urges at all. She was simply another one of his Friday night hook ups, only this had turned out to be slightly more complicated.

Yeah, he should definitely borrow that book from Roberta

“So I guess, what I came here to say,” Bonnie sighed, “I think you’re a great guy Frank, and I’ve got your back on this damned custody case but, me and you…it just…” “Oh, absolutely, I’m with you.” Frank hastily agreed, thanking the Gods she’d brought it up before he had to. “It was a mistake.” Bonnie arched an eyebrow and he groaned. “Shit, I don’t mean that how it sounds but, well, it was, wasn’t it?”

She smiled and nodded, cocking her head to one side as she surveyed him. “I do think you need to speak to Fliss though.”

“Fliss?” Frank frowned, “What’s she got to do with this?”

You like her." Bonnie said simply.

Frank paused before he shook his head, smiling. “Is it that obvious?" "Well, if it wasn’t evident from the way you talk about her, the fact you called me by her name twice last night is most definitely a giveaway." Oh Jesus. Ground please open... "I called you by her name? When we- " he grimaced and she chuckled, raising her eyebrows "Oh God. Bonnie, I'm so sorry." He groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“Like we said, mistake.” Bonnie smiled, “Especially when you’re clearly hung up on another girl. “ "Yeah well, I think I've kinda blown it. Story of my life." Frank sighed taking a pull from his bottle.

“Blown it?”

“Yeah she's pretty pissed. She saw us in the bar and has hardly spoken a word to me since”

"And you’re giving up that easily?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t even know if she likes me in that way so…” He shrugged and Bonnie leaned forward slightly.

“If she’s that pissed at you over the fact that you hooked up with someone else then she absolutely feels something for you Frank." Bonnie smiled softly. “And it would be a shame to let something as stupid as a one night stand screw it all up for you.”

Frank looked at her for another moment or two before he finished his beer and offered Bonnie another one which she accepted and then asked him about the court case. Frank filled Bonnie in on the running order for the testimonies which would start on Tuesday before she bid him goodnight and left. He contemplated messaging Fliss once she was gone but decided against it. He would give her a few days to calm down, and give himself some time to figure out what the fuck he was going to say.

***** It was Saturday afternoon when Frank reached out.

Fliss was busy on a lesson when her phone went. Taking a quick minute to look at it, she read the message from Frank asking if it was ok if they swung by as Mary was home. With a deep breath she replied telling him it was fine, before she turned back to her client who was one of the boarders on the yard.

She had just about finished some thirty minutes or so later when she heard Mary calling her name. She turned and gave her a smile and a wave. Once she had finished with her client and taken payment, she turned to Mary and gave the girl a hug.

“Hey!” she beamed as Mary hugged her tight. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” Mary beamed “And so has Frank.”

“That so?” Fliss stood up straight and looked at him. He took a deep breath and shrugged, but the little smile on his face told Fliss that Mary had completely and utterly busted him. She rolled her eyes and then gave him a little smile of her own. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” He nodded, gratefully taking the olive branch she had offered.

They made their way into the office and Fliss moved to the small kitchenette area at the back, filling the coffee machine before she turned to Mary, leaning against the counter.

“So, tell me all about Boston.” Mary began to gush about all the things she had done, Fliss listening and asking questions as she made her and Frank a coffee. He took his with a thanks whilst Mary told Fliss how she had looked at some photos, learned more about her mom and then done some complicated Maths for a professor at a University. At that Fliss noticed Frank stiffen slightly and she looked at him, gently shaking her head. He smiled tightly and turned to look out over the yard, taking a few steps outside.

“And she has a piano.” Mary finished, “I mean I didn’t get to play it but…”

“You should come over to my mum’s.” Fliss smiled “She’ll let you play hers. That’s what she used to do, teach people music.”

Mary smiled, before she looked over at Frank who was stood watching a few people riding in the paddock, the lessons for the day having concluded which meant the boarders were free to do what they wanted.

“Are you still mad at Frank?” Mary looked at Fliss.

“Not really.” Fliss shook her head “I got a little bit cross but…” “Yeah, he can make me cross too.” Mary said wisely “He does dumb stuff sometimes.”

Fliss laughed and studied the young girl. “Yeah, you got that right.” “But he’s a good person.” Mary concluded.

“I know.” Fliss agreed, her eyes flicking to him before she looked back at Mary.

“I don’t want to live with Evelyn.” Mary shrugged “I mean she was nice and looks like my mom but…she’s bossy.” Fliss smiled.

“I want to stay with Frank.” Mary continued. “Because I know he loves me. And he did before he found out I was smart.”

Fliss felt a lump in her throat at the girl’s confession. She glanced over at Frank again who ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes underneath his shades.

“Hey, Mary, why don’t you go say hi to Monty.” she said gently. “Tell Joanne I said you could help with the feeds.” “Yesss.” Mary cheered, scooting off her chair and shooting across the yard. Fliss saw Frank follow her with her eyes before he turned to her as she walked over to him.

“How you holding up?” she asked him gently.

“Apart from screwing up my life, I’m good.” Frank snorted, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his t-shirt. “Just hope I’m not screwing hers up as well.”

“Don’t’ say that.” Fliss shook her head “You know that’s not true. Mary’s fine.”

There was a pause before Frank took a deep breath and looked at Fliss. “I hate that we haven’t been talking. It’s been kinda lonely.”

“I thought you and Bonnie might have, ” she trailed off, shrugging, “gone out or something, I don’t know.”

Frank sighed “I’ve only seen her once since. And that was so we could have a straight up conversation about how what happened was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded. “And as far as mistakes go, that one was pretty spectacular.”

“And you actually said that to her?”

He nodded.

“Wow.” Fliss snorted.

“She agreed so we’re both going to try and forget it ever happened.” Frank shrugged and he Fliss’ gaze for a second before he took a deep breath “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” he pressed “Because you thought me and Bonnie, were, like together?”

Fliss swallowed and looked away, trying to think of something to say that didn’t give her feelings away. He’d hit the nail on the head. She had thought that, and more over she was jealous so had distanced herself on purpose.

“I just,” she looked back at him, “well, I suppose I didn’t want to step on any toes, so to speak, that’s all.”

“There’s none to step on, trust me.” Frank looked at her. “I don’t feel that way. Not towards Bonnie.”

Fliss looked at him, feeling her cheeks growing warm before she turned away and quickly changed the subject. “So err, anyway, she seems to have enjoyed Boston.”

Frank let out a large breath at the fact that Fliss had effectively withdrawn back from what he had felt had been the edge of a breakthrough there for the pair of them but, well, he had no right to be annoyed, especially after everything he’d done. “Yeah.” He nodded with a little smile.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

“Well she has a court interview with the Child Welfare department or whatever they’re called on Monday.”

“Sure it’ll be fine.” Fliss replied “It’s not like she’s treated badly or her welfare is an issue, Frank.”

“And the hearing starts in full on Tuesday.” He explained “They’re opening with a bang.” At his words Fliss frowned as he turned to face her. “Mary’s biological father has apparently signed an affidavit, nominating my mother as Mary’s legal guardian.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fliss hissed, suddenly seething with anger as Frank shook his head “That’s a real shitty trick.”

“Yep” Frank agreed.

“Does Mary know?”

“No. I’ll have to tell her though, otherwise Evelyn will no doubt.”

“Your mother gets access to her again?”

“Whilst this is going on she gets visitation rights so…” Frank shrugged, and Fliss couldn’t help but notice his despondent nature.

“So when you gonna tell her?”

“Tuesday night, after it’s done. I don’t want her worrying or knowing he’s in town because if she knows and he doesn’t ask to see her, well at least once he’s gone then…” he bit his lip. “She’s gonna be upset either way but, what else can I do?”

“Nothing, just what you think is best.” Fliss said gently “I told you before that’s all you can do Frank.” He looked at her and she sighed, opening her arms and he gladly stepped towards her, wrapping her up in a hug.

******

Tuesday rolled around far too quickly for Frank’s liking. The interviews on Monday went fairly smoothly, he had a little bit of a questioning over his TV choices for Mary but other than that he’d left that session feeling pretty okay about it.

And then he’d walked into court, seen his mother and the snivelling little shit that was now being questioned by his Mother’s Lawyer.

“Mr. Polland, are you the natural father of Mary Adler?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Frank sat still, glaring at the ass hole sat in the dock.

“And how you can be certain of this?

“Well, I always knew, but then you had me take a DNA test.”

Course they did…

I would offer the test results as result of evidence of that Mr. Polland is the father and natural guardian of the minor. As well as an affidavit from Mr. Polland nominating Mrs. Adler the maternal grandmother as the legal guardian of the minor.”

Frank sat up slightly, his jaw clenching. This ass hole had no right to decide what was best for Mary, he’d never fucking met her. Greg touched his arm, shaking his head, telling him to keep quiet.

“No objections.” Greg spoke.

“Mr. Polland has Mrs. Adler offered you any monetary reward or employment for coming forward today?” Evelyn’s attorney continued.

No, sir. I have a job of my own.”

Frank suppressed a snort. Bullshit she hasn’t paid you.

“Thank you. No further questions, your Honour.”

Greg then stood up and waited a second before he opened his cross examination “Mr. Polland when was the last time you saw Mary?”

“I've never seen her.” Polland shifted slightly and Frank watched him intently.

“Why not?”

“By the time I heard about Diane…passing the baby was gone already.”

Her name is Mary, ass hole. Frank took a deep breath.

“Well, did you try and find her?” Greg pressed.

“Best I could. I couldn't just go and search the entire country.” Polland shook his head, trying to make a joke out of it. Frank was pleased to see the judge wasn’t laughing.

Greg nodded and paused again, before suddenly asking “Do you use a computer at work?”

“Sure.” Polland replied

“You know what? Help me out.” Cullen turned and grabbed his laptop “Let's google ‘Mary Adler’ and see what we find.” he placed the laptop on the dock and turned it towards Polland. He hesitated for a while and looked at the Judge who gestured with his hand, instructing him to do as he was told. Polland began to tap when Greg spoke again “You know what? You better add her middle name.”

Frank watched as Polland stopped, because of course he had no idea what her midde name was.

“It'll narrow it down. Eileen” Cullen informed him. Polland looked up and caught Frank’s eye, his face sheepish. Frank kept his face straight, his chin resting on his hand, fingers making an L-shape round his jaw as Polland looked away and began to tap.

“Yeah, Hit enter.” Greg nodded. “Okay, now head to page two…second hit. Would you please tell the court what you see there?”

Polland hesitated “It's a newspaper article called ‘Not so terrible twos’”

“And one of them is Mary Eileen Adler.” Greg nodded “Same name as your daughter. Born on the same day as your daughter. With a photograph”

Polland looked at him.

“In your defence, you'd never recognize it…”

“Your Honour, this is...” Evelyn’s attorney stood up but Cullen was quick to cut him off

“Your Honour, if there's one thing here that's sadly obvious it's that Mr. Polland has never been a genuine guardian of the minor and his nomination of Mrs. Adler is no less disingenuous.” he looked at the Judge.

Frank shifted slightly as Judge Nicholls looked at Polland, then to Evelyn, then to him before he turned glanced at the notes in front of him.

“While the state of Florida gives deference to nomination by natural parent, I'm inclined to side with Mr. Cullen's laptop at this time.” he said, nodding at Cullen, effectively dismissing the affidavit. Frank allowed himself a relieved smile as Cullen nodded.

“Thank you, your Honor”

Once court was adjourned for the day, Frank obligingly walked his mother to her car when she asked him to. And as they walked, she told him about his step father Walter. Frank had found it odd how he wasn’t featuring in any of this, but his silent question was answered as Evelyn told him he moved out and bought a ranch in Montana.

“Bullshit.” Frank exclaimed as they walked in the sun, his suit jacket handing over his arm.

“Exactly. A man whose idea of roughing it is being too far from the ice machine at the Ritz Carlton now owns a thousand acres of grass and dung.”

“Walter Price is a cowboy.” Frank smiled, shaking his head, making a mental not to tell Fliss later. “Walter Price puts on a Brooke's brother suit to take out the garbage!”

“Well, now he has a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and a horse that doesn't know dressage.” Evelyn shook her head.

“Is there some logical reason for this?” Frank asked.

“Midlife crisis, apparently.”

“He's seventy.” Frank scoffed

“I know. Must have been on time delay or something. I guess I should be happy it wasn't a twent-five year old cocktail waitress. But then again an affair you can explain to friends in a minute. For this, you put on a pot of coffee.”

“And he's out there right now?”

“Yessiree!” Evelyn imitated a Western accent. “Riding the range!”

Frank lost himself for a moment as he and his mother joked, mocking exactly what his Step Father would look like. He hated to admit it, but at times like this he was reminded how similar he was to his mother. Same dry sense of humour, no nonsense nature…

“The fastest asset management in the West.” he snorted and Evelyn smiled.

“The man who shot Liberty Mutual. That's what I've been calling him” she said as they stopped at her car.

“That's really, really funny.” Frank chuckled, and then sighed as his mother opened the car door. He leaned down and spoke to the driver. “Take her to the airport.” he said, straightening up. “Go home, Evelyn. Or Montana. Rustle some cattle.” he said gently.

“You know I have no desire to hurt you. I hate it that we're at odds.”

And then, he was also reminded just how different they were too.

“We're always at odds.” he shrugged.

“Yes.” She said, almost sadly before she climbed in the car. “Hotel.” she instructed her driver, closing the door.

**** As anticipated, when he broke the news to Mary about her father, she had a meltdown and locked herself in the bathroom. No amount of coaxing from him or Roberta would draw her out. She was sobbing about how her dad didn’t want her…and then Frank was struck with an idea and he pulled out his phone to call in reinforcement which arrived in the shape of Fliss some twenty minutes later.

“I still can’t believe that wank stain was even given the time of day.” Fliss seethed as Frank greeted her outside. “I mean…”

“It’s done, his claim was thrown out but...”Frank nodded to where Roberta was stood outside locked bathroom door.

“Why you had to tell her that waste of oxygen was testifying I’ve no idea.” the woman shot him a look.

“Because it's the truth. And if I didn't, Evelyn would've.” Frank reasoned.

“If I was the dad of a little girl and I never saw her and I was in the same town. I would visit her.” Fliss heard Mary’s crying and Frank saw her face scrunch up in sympathy. “He didn't even need directions. He could've followed you here.”

“Ok, Roberta, can you…” Fliss asked gently. Roberta stood to the side and Fliss spoked to the door. “Mary, sweetheart, it’s me.”

“Lissy?” Mary sniffled.

“The one and only.” Fliss smiled, before she sighed “You know what, you’re right. He could have come to see you. But he didn’t. And that sucks, but it has nothing to do with you.”

“He doesn't even wanna see what I look like.” The girl sobbed again.

“You know I never met my dad either.” Fliss said gently “He abandoned my mum before I was born, made no attempt to see me at all, and then he was killed when I was 4 months old. He died without ever seeing my face. And you know what?”

“What?” Mary sniffed.

“That was his loss.” Fliss continued. “And then my mom met Bill when I was two, and he’s been my dad ever since. He looked after me and loved me, just like Frank does for you.” Fliss glanced at him and he dropped his hand from where it had been cupping his chin, folding his arms round his chest as he shot her a small smile. “Like we all do Mary, you’re so loved. By Frank, Roberta, me…” Fliss continued, “Now come on, open the door.”

There was a pause and they heard a rustle, before the lock on the door clicked and it opened. Mary stood in the doorway, her eyes red and wet from tears before she gave another sob and threw herself at Fliss. Fliss crouched down on one knee and held her back, gently rocking her and Frank felt his chest tighten at the display of affection.

And then he had an idea.

He crouched next to them, his hand gently reaching out to brush Mary’s hair back as she turned her head which was on Fliss’ shoulder to look at him.

“Put your shoes on. We're going for a ride.” he said to her softly. Then he turned to Fliss “You too, that is if you want to.”

“Sure.” she nodded.

“Roberta?” Frank looked at her, and she shook her head.

“Your truck only got three seats.” “We can take mine.” Fliss offered as Mary gently released her.

“No, I think you two got this.” she said, with a knowing smile.

*******

“What are we doing here?” Mary asked as they sat on the seats in the waiting room and Fliss found herself wondering the same thing. She hadn’t questioned Frank, he obviously had something up his sleeve.

“Waiting.”

“We can see that.” Fliss replied playfully, and he looked at her, rolling his eyes as Mary continued.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” he shrugged, returning to the National Geographic magazine he was flicking through.

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes. And keep your voice down. It's a hospital.”

As long as it takes turned out to be an hour and a half. Through which time Mary had groaned, moaned, used Frank’s legs as a climbing frame, which Fliss noticed he had expertly ignored simply slouching in his seat, legs apart as Mary draped herself over them. Eventually she had curled up next to Fliss and laid her head on her lap, dozing off.

Fliss was busy reading something on her emails when she heard a bit of a commotion and the group at the other side of the waiting room all stood up. Frank’s eyes flew to them and then he gently gave Fliss a smile before he nudged Mary awake.

She blinked and watched as a man walked into the waiting room dressed in scrubs, a huge smile on his face.

“It's a boy.” he announced and the group erupted into cheers. Fliss glanced down at Mary who was watching in awe as everyone started to congratulate the man, all crying, sobbing with happiness, cheering, praising the lord.

“That's exactly how it was when you were born.” Frank spoke softly and Fliss then understood. He was showing Mary that she was loved, that she was wanted.

“This happy?” Mary asked

“This happy.” Frank confirmed.

“Who came out and told everybody?” she asked, and Frank leaned over gently brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I did.”

The emotion of the moment got to Fliss and her eyes watered. Frank raised his head and they shared a look as he smiled and she smiled back before Mary piped up.

“Can we stay for another?”

So they did, and when the next family all celebrated Mary jumped up, heading over to the group. They all smiled at her as she was swept into their celebrations. Fliss reached over and gently took Frank’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze, a gesture he returned until Mary came back and pulled Fliss over to the group with her. Frank leaned back and watched as Fliss simply smiled and wiped her eyes as she congratulated the family and he let out a sigh, swallowing slightly, lost in his thoughts.

Eventually the family all dispersed to go and see their new arrival and he told Mary that it was too late to stay for another. She fell asleep on the way home against Fliss and when they got home it was a careful manoeuvre to get her out of the car without waking her up. He gently placed her in bed before he walked Fliss down to her car.

“Thank you.” he broke the silence. “You were amazing before. You’re just amazing full stop.” he said, trailing off.

She blushed slightly and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I mean it Lissy…” he sighed, “You just…”

He hesitated for a second before he reached out and gently placed his hand on her hip, pulling her softly towards him

“Frank.” she protested softly as his face dropped towards hers, her hands gently on his chest keeping him away from her “Look, I, ”

“I’m sorry.” he swallowed, his head dropping as he sighed at her rejection “You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s not even three weeks ago you were in bed with another woman.” she looked at him and he grimaced, pulling away.

“I know and I really wish that hadn’t happened” he sighed, the hand that had been on her hip moved and ran through his hair “My head was fucked and…”

“How do I know it isn’t now?” Fliss looked at him “How do I, or you for that matter, know that this…” she gestured between them with her hand “…isn’t just an emotional response to what’s going on as well?”

“Because it’s not.” he shook his head, his eyes not leaving hers as he drove his message home “I care about you Fliss, more than just as friends, and I’m kicking myself now because what I did means you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” she took deep breath, as she looked down at her hands, the fingers of her right hand fiddling with her left. “And it’s not that I don’t feel the same.” She looked up at him, her voice quiet.

At her words a soft smile formed on his face as she continued to talk.

“But right now, you need to concentrate on Mary, and getting through this week.”

He nodded, swallowing “Yeah, I know, you’re right.”

She smiled, and reached up, taking his face in her soft hands. “But I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” her eyes locked onto his “And whatever this is,” she gestured between them once more, “if it’s right, then it’ll still be there when this is all over.”

She stood on her tip toes to place a gentle kiss to side of his mouth and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he swallowed. They stayed like that for a moment until Fliss backed away gently, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he frowned

“Yeah, the Wicked Witch of The West is testifying is she not?”

Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she is.” “Like I said, you’re not alone. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched her climb in her car and waited until the tail lights had disappeared before he turned and headed inside. Finally all the cards were on the table, and it hadn’t been a rejection, quite the opposite actually.

For the first time in days, Frank slept soundly that night.

**** Chapter 8

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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