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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 19 - Holy Ground

Masterlist; Chapter 18

Summary: In the days before the mission in Tallinn, you and Neil have a few conversations to clear the air of doubts. Only, the mission itself proves to be a disruption...

Warnings: Swearing; mild violence.

Author’s Notes: Here we go, my favourite mission (and favourite Neil outfit too). This is only part one of the Tallinn action because so much happens... as you’ll see. I’m sorry. I really am. Hope you enjoy and please leave me feedback if you feel like it!

Song mentioned is: ‘Holy Ground’ by Within Temptation (I’ll share it in a post later but basically listen to it after reading and you’ll know why I’m obsessed)

Edit is courtesy of my amazing friend @sh3tani once again (ilysm and thanks for everything 💕)

The upcoming days were busy. You have been assigned the task of getting hold of some of the vehicles and artillery TP wanted for the heist in Tallinn. It was difficult, not only because it is actually rather hard to acquire a fire truck with no records left from the transaction, but also because you barely had any clue what you were actually doing. And so, most of the time, you were sat at the dining table in the flat, calling various shady people Neil gave you contacts to. Sometimes, a tea would appear in front of you, courtesy of the other team members thoroughly apologizing for how they handled the ‘alley situation’.

It seemed like your late-night walk and the cold treatment you gave everyone (including Neil) for the next 24 hours afterward worked. The jokes have ended, and contrition took their place, usually in the form of extreme helpfulness, random acts of kindness, and, in Neil’s case, a break from teasing. At least for a short while.

The only development you were not so sure of was the fact that the whole team decided to label your relationship. Not just any label but dating, verging on a couple. And that was rather terrifying. It struck you especially the night before when you have minded your own business in the kitchen. Watching over the pasta boiling on the stove, you listened to the plans made by Ives. He was trying to settle on the best way to track Neil during the heist when he suddenly turned to you with a question:

“Has your boyfriend told you what kind of car they are going for in the end?” the neutral tone made you skim over the term at first.

But then your brain caught up. What?! You almost toppled over the whole pot of pasta onto the floor when trying to drain it. Fuck. Ives was staring at you quizzically, as though confused about your current state.

“I… Who?” you stammered out the question, knowing it will only make everything worse.

“Neil” Ives grinned, “Unless you’ve gone for an open relationship and there’s another boyfriend involved”

“Christ, please stop” sighing, you tried to calm down just enough to function “I believe he’s going for a BMW, don’t know what series but something fast enough just in case there was a chase” triumphantly, you poured the sauce over the noodles.

“I’ll need to give him a call about it” Ives smacked his tongue thoughtfully.

“Feel free” using the opportunity, you grabbed the cutlery and escaped into your room.

Boyfriend? Now that was something to cause anxiety. Because despite everything that happened, all the things you have told Neil and got in return, you had no clue what you were supposed to be. Not really. Yes, sometimes you let yourself entertain the idea that maybe you were together, maybe he was your lover. But… was he? Could he ever be that?

With those thoughts occupying your mind, you only managed to last until afternoon the next day before giving in. After failing to contact a car dealer for the fifth time and realising that you have completely messed up the route plan due to forgetting about important details, you closed the laptop. It was hard to think when all your brain did was give reasons for why Neil would never actually want to be with you. To summarise: you were not enough, naïve, hopeless, and dumb enough to think that someone this incredible could think about you seriously. Stifling the sudden desire to breakdown and give up on everything, you dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly.

“Yes, my love?” your heart clenched at the nickname.

“Hi… um… Do you have a moment?” you cringed at the awkwardness.

“For you? Always”

Maybe, on another day, that would have made you smile. But that was not that kind of a day.

“Neil, I’m serious,” sighing, you rested your head on the cold wall behind your bed.

“What’s wrong?” his tone switched from playful to concerned.

Okay… now there’s no turning back.

“I’ve just been thinking...” you started, debating on the best way to breach the topic.

“Oh no”

Damn him. You cracked a small smile, knowing that was the intention. You could almost picture him at this moment, sat in some absolutely strange position in the armchair, nothing but long legs and ruffled hair. You did have it pretty bad.

“Shut up” you took a deep breath and blurted out “It’s probably stupid, and feel free to ignore this but... what even are we?”

There it is. Your whole existence hanged on his reply. But, of course, Neil needed more clarification than that…

“How do you mean?” his careful tone made your heart rate elevate.

The result was a string of sentences you shot out with the speed of a machine gun.

“Because everyone here assumes we’re dating. And Ives called you my boyfriend last night, and I don’t... I don’t know if that’s what’s going on and-”

“Okay, calm down,” he interrupted your rant “Take a deep breath” he waited until he could hear you exhale to continue “What do you want this to be? Because we’re the only people who have a say about it” the diplomatic tone made you frown.

But then maybe he just wanted to get your point of view before saying anything substantial… Trouble was you had no clue. Picking on a loose thread on your sweater, you sighed:

“I don’t know” maybe this was the right time to give him another piece of mind? “I always hated labels because when you name something, it becomes real” you admitted, letting yourself slide down onto the pillows.

Nothing could hurt you there. Apart from potential rejection from the likely love of your life. Basically, fml, as the kids say.

“What about good things?” his question caught you off guard.

“Well, yeah, but… once there’s a couple, then there can be a break-up” the insecurity had an answer for that too.

Your cheeks heated up upon saying the word. Because even that felt like a step too far. Like maybe you were clingy. Obnoxious. Someone he could want to get rid of as quickly as possible. Before you decided to back out of the conversation, he replied:

“That’s a rather bleak way of looking at things” it was still that thoughtful tone.

A burden then.

“I know” you groaned, frustrated with yourself.

But the next thing he said was rather surprising…

“I’ll need to work on making you more optimistic. Not because I don’t like you the way you are, but because I want you to realise how wrong you are sometimes” the conviction and practical implications of the statement made you speechless.

The future tense. The admission that he did like you, with your countless issues and overbearing anxiety. It couldn’t be, could it? Neil took your stunned silence as permission to say more:

“From my side, let me say that dating doesn’t quite cut it because it implies not being sure... And…” despite yourself, your ears perked up, wanting to know what he meant.

“Yeah?” you prodded, trying to toe that precarious line between curiosity and fear of rejection.

“I’m not really in the trial stages anymore. Don’t think I’ve ever been” he clearly wanted to tell you more but was holding back.

Maybe it was for the better. Before you could think about a response to that, Neil added:

“Basically, we don’t have to use any labels. We’re just us” the simplicity of that statement broke through your resolve, making tears well up “Me and you. We know best what that implies and no one else matters” quietly, you sobbed, and he laughed before choosing to put that final nail in the metaphorical coffin “You’re my love, and that’s the only nickname I need” Neil sounded happy, as though despite your worries, he wanted to say that “I can be your idiot, as long as I’m yours” the punchline came with an audible smug smile.

Oh my god. You laughed, with tears still silently falling down your cheeks and heart hammering in your chest. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Suddenly asking that crucial question was not that scary. Because maybe today was the day when would tell you, without alcohol or worries prompting the confession. Taking the plunge, you spoke:

“Neil, do you-”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted you with an answer.

“I haven’t even asked the question” you frowned, unsure whether that kind of an answer was better than a confession.

Because, yes, he already said it once (almost twice), but both those have been anything but thoughtful. And your ever doubting brain was quick to use that fact against you.

“But I know the answer” he sounded certain.

Perhaps too certain.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to tell you over the phone” Neil sighed heavily on the other end “Listen, I have to go… but call me or text if you need to talk” he hesitated before adding, “No matter what I want you to remember what I said that night in London”

Oh… It was the first time any of you brought it up. You just assumed it was one of the things that just slipped out in an unguarded moment. You wanted it to be true, but then that was too risky. But maybe not…?

“I heard you” you whispered despite being alone in the room.

“I know” you could picture the soft smile he sometimes gave you “Goodbye, my love. Good luck with work” at the reminder of the piles of papers still waiting, you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Will be needed since what you’ve assigned me is close to impossible” the change of the topic was dearly welcomed.

Grabbing the laptop again, you opened it up and felt all the motivation dissolve upon the sight of the route waiting to be planned. Coffee will be needed. And maybe whiskey too.

“I believe in you,” Neil broke your brooding with a comment, “And it’s not really me who assigned it” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot” unable to stop the grin on your face, you ended the call.

So maybe it was worth calling… Even if only to learn that he was in fact yours. And that he did not mind your insecurity or moments of anxiety. Maybe all this had some more potential than heartbreak and tragedy? Ignoring all the thoughts, you focused on the workload. After all, someone had to get all those bloody vehicles on time for the boys to play with.

*** The closer it got to the day, you could feel the tensions rising within the team. Partially it was your own fault and the fact that you were nervous. The plan was vague enough. What you and Ives’ squad knew was that TP intended to take over the plutonium 241 on the move, specifically on the highway leading out of the city. For some reason, he needed a fire truck and a firefighter suit for that. You had no clue why, but you blamed it on the boyish dreams of being a firefighter. Sure they all had those.

Neil was simply the designated driver and mission coordinator, and you hoped that meant he would stay out of harm. As much as that was possible for an idiot like him. You were not allowed to meet to stop TP from getting suspicious, and so all you could do was rely on texts and daily phone calls to keep you from going insane. The downside of the situation was that you could not slap Neil when he said questionable things. Examples being referring to the heist car as sexy (“And what if I told that it’s not the BMW that’s sexy?” “I’d be flattered”) and calling you his girlfriend on the call with Ives. That second incident resulted in the squad leader acting all smug because he apparently ‘figured it all out’. He did not, but who were you to prove him wrong.

And so, you perfected the plan, finished all the assigned tasks, and waited on instructions concerning the day of the mission. When they came, the message was simple – sit on your assess and wait, just in case the Cavalry was needed. You did not specifically like that ‘waiting’ part. Especially since Ives began insisting that you do not actually join them in the field. In his mind, the safest place for you was the flat. Not being a part of the squad and not having enough experience were the main factors acting against you. And you hated the fact that he was right. That is until the evening before the mission when an unexpected text from TP came. You were busy trying to understand the rules of a strange competition show on the television when your phone buzzed. Expecting something nonsensical from Neil, you picked it up instantly. Only to get shocked by the number on display. The message was straightforward:

“Join the squad in the field in Tallinn. You must be there”

Right… When you were asking the universe for help, you did not expect that. But it was better than nothing.

Without a further ado, you got up and wandered over to Ives, who was sat with Wheeler and Michael at the table. Upon your approach, the Brit looked up:

“Don’t tell me you’ve got some last-minute changes from Neil” his blue eyes were hazed with concern.

“No, I’ve got something better” you passed him the phone and waited for a response.

The widened stare and arched eyebrow was the initial reaction.

“He wouldn’t have sent if it wasn’t important” you added, hoping to win the case.

“I don’t get it” Ives sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair.

He glanced at Michael, who nodded and left the room. You just assumed that the discussion was not meant for any ordinary squad member.

“Apologies for my language, but you’re not a bloody soldier, and it might get rough out there” Ives spoke up again after a beat “And I don’t want to fucking worry about your safety amidst all the other mess” he met your gaze warily.

It was a little embarrassing to be considered a burden. You flinched internally before trying another approach.

“I know, but Neil might need me” as soon as you said the words, Ives scowled.

Of course, that just sounded like a lovesick teenager fighting for a hopeless case. And you hated that. But his very next words triggered the remains of resolve.

“Frankly, darling-”

You broke into a laugh, knowing the quotation well.

“I swear, if you quote Gone with the Wind right now, I’ll do something stupid” as a warning, you grabbed hold of the knife lying on the table, making Wheeler snicker quietly “Please, let me go out there. I can track his GPS signal or something. And well, you know that I’ve got a good aim. It might count for something” pleading was not your forte either but at the end of the speech, Ives’ gaze softened.

Maybe? He sighed once again before leaning his forehead on the folded forearms on the table.

“If you get hurt, he’ll kill me” he muttered gloomily.

“You’re exaggerating” you bit back a dry chuckle.

“No, he’s not” your head snapped up at the sound of Wheeler’s voice “But I’ve got to back you here if TP sent that text, then it’s probably important” she looked at you with a small smile.

“Thank you” you grinned back, grateful for the support.

With the days spent among men almost exclusively, Wheeler’s company meant a lot. Soon she became the only person you were willing to discuss your worries with. Because she was not keen on cracking dumb jokes about your relationship and asked questions that did not only concern Neil. And that was a welcomed change.

“You really need to be careful though, because Neil cares about you. Which probably makes you the most important person on this squad” her voice broke through your thoughts.

You knew she meant well, but the statement still made your cheeks heat up. Because did he really care?

“Don’t. You’re making me all flustered” deciding you’ve had enough of the awkwardness you got up to fix a tea.

“Well, I’m only speaking the truth here” turning back to the table, you saw Wheeler shrug “The physics boy took his fancy upon you, and that’s no funny business” she grinned at your perplexed expression.

Briefly, you glanced at Ives, who seemed to have given up on fighting with you and instead was listening in to the conversation with a neutral facial expression. The kettle boiling was your cue to respond:

“Great” semi-aggressively, you threw the tea bag into the mug poured the water “Did he though?” you asked, not even looking at them or expecting an answer.

“Yep,” Wheeler stood up and gave you a quick reassuring shoulder squeeze.

“I’ve never seen him like this before” Ives added once you turned to face him again.

That tea could not brew any longer…

“Not even with…” you hesitated before adding quietly, “Alex?”

“Not quite,” the man gave you an enigmatic smile, only increasing your frustration “You’ve convinced me though. You’re coming with us. Just please, for the sake of my sanity, be careful out there” you resisted the urge to jump up in relief “Because I’d rather not deal with an angry Neil. He’s a pain in the ass enough” Ives added darkly before getting up and joining you by the kitchen counter.

Smiling, you finished the tea.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best” playfully, you nudged his shoulder with yours “You can always blame me though” picking up the mug, you turned towards the corridor.

“As though he’d care” Ives muttered at your back.

The sudden surge of confidence was surprising yet also inspiring:

“I’d make him care. There are some things even he can’t say no to”

The last thing you heard upon closing the door to the bedroom was Ives choking on water.

*** The Tallinn mission for you began with an early morning phone call from Neil. You got as far as getting out of bed after having been staring at the ceiling anxiously for the past three hours when the phone rang.

“Morning,” you muttered, stifling a yawn.

Espresso was certainly needed. Maybe two, before you would have to head out.

“Hey,” the soft tone felt like a mild punch “I’m glad you’re up already” Neil’s sleepy voice made you wish you could wake up together again.

There was always that slightly husky tinge to it, the way he lazily pronounced some words just because it was early still. So different from the enthusiastic overenunciation when he was preaching another messed up plan of his. Or the cheeky inflections he tended to use with you during banter. It was terrifyingly easy to get to know him that well because of how open he was with you.

“I couldn’t sleep. But it’s okay I’ll manage” you admitted, distracting yourself from the sudden thoughts “I didn’t tell you last night, but I got another text from TP… he wants me to join the squad today”

From the moment you have shut the bedroom door the previous night, you have debated calling Neil about it. But then he initiated another rather amusing texting exchange focusing on his fashion choices, and you felt bad disrupting the peace. It could wait. Not anymore. You held your breath until Neil responded with a simple question:

“Why?” he was careful, and you could not blame him for it.

You perched on the windowsill and looked out at the quiet cityscape. The streets were strangely empty for a weekday morning. Sighing, you answered in the best way possible:

“I don’t know, but Ives said yes after some coaxing, so I might see you out there” smiling despite yourself, you waited for his response.

Since recently you had to rely on phone calls, it became increasingly easy to determine his mood based on the tone of the reply. Or on the various nonverbal noises he sometimes made. Now there was a quiet hum proceeding the sentence. A surprise, mild confusion, and worry. Brilliant.

“As much as I’m happy we might meet… and that you can see me in that sexy car,” you rolled your eyes awaiting the point “Please, be careful. I need you safe”

It was not disappointing. You knew he did not intend it that way, and yet the anxiety fuelled brain was onto it instantly. I need you… safe. Unable to stop the comment, you muttered:

“Just safe, then”

“What?” any hope that he might have missed it dissolved with that single question.

Could he for once not listen to what you say? You know, like men tended to do. But then Neil was by no means an ordinary man.

“Nothing. Don’t mind me” the attempt at saving your dignity failed too.

“I thought it goes without saying that I do need you. And that I want you”

Oh god. At once, you wanted to smash your head into the wall and to kiss the bastard for being the way he was. Adding to that sentence, the mental image of his sheepish smile was enough to make your heart speed up. When the silence stretched, becoming awkward, you whispered a reply.

“It’s good to hear it sometimes” the coldness of the window glass cooled off your blazed cheeks, “Especially when I don’t actually believe it” he knew that by now, undoubtedly.

Here the nonverbal cue was a half-choked sigh. Annoyance. Frustration.

“You should. I don’t go around telling everyone that” Neil’s confident voice was trying to pull you back “And I certainly don’t have moments as we do with anyone else” at the implication, you felt flustered again.

Because there did not an hour go by without you thinking about what happened. The pull between you was startling at times. The absolute desire you felt. The way Neil knew exactly how to make you remember every second of every moment. With the memories flooding your brain, you could only utter a single question:

“Why me?”

It was curiosity. Because apart from that evening months ago when you first tried to make sense of your budding relationship, he never said why he cared about you. And you would never dare ask. But now, with everything that happened, it was worth trying. And Neil was willing to deliver:

“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because you’re the bravest, kindest, most beautiful person I know” you could only keep on listening with your mouth agape “You fascinate me, and I want to discover all that you’re willing to give me” he finished in a reverent whisper.

That was not what you expected to hear. Not now. Not ever. Speechless, you wondered whether maybe this time it was not a mistake to give your heart away. It was too late. He had everything but your body; that was just a matter of time.

“Neil, I…” this was all you could manage, afraid you would give away another confession.

“Well, you’ve asked,” he chuckled lightly and then asked, “Are you okay?” you could picture that crease between furrowed eyebrows.

“I suppose-” a loud knock on your door interrupted the sentence; it was time, “I think I should probably join them for the final briefing…” hesitantly, you jumped off the sill.

Only two of you could be interrupted during such an important conversation.

“Go, I won’t keep you. Believe me, though, when I say that I want nothing but to be with you. In every way possible” your breath hitched at the connotation behind the sentiment.

Jesus, this man…

“That’s rather mutual,” like a secret you passed it to him on a sigh “But only when you’re not an ass” that was a much-needed distraction for you both.

There was work to be done, after all. You could hear the commotion in the apartment rise in volume and strength.

“I’ll do my best then. Good luck, darling” you grinned at the nickname he was determined to use.

Darling, you could do with. It was better than the ‘love’ that always made you feel like you were just another one among many.

“Don’t do anything stupid I still owe you a few slaps… and a payback” you added the necessary suggestive tone to the last word.

The rest was up to him to figure out. Which he did, if the pleased laughed was anything to go by.

“I’m very much looking forward to all of those” you missed that smirk.

“You should. Bye, my idiot,” you debated saving his number as that in your phone.

Maybe it was the way forwards.

“My love,” laughing, you ended the call when he uttered the words just for the sake of it.

But then that was Neil’s essence – doing things just because. Or to get a reaction from you. And you would not have it any other way.

*** Only when sitting in that bloody SUV, you learned the true meaning of waiting. And how much you hated to do that. There was nothing to do apart from sweating in the protective gear and avoiding the awkward small talk others were susceptible to. The squad has cramped into two non-descript vehicles, and you being the so-called precious cargo, ended up in the same car with Ives who have sworn to protect you. Only, for the first half-hour, there was nothing to protect you from. Apart from anxiety, boredom, and frustration.

Your role was rather simple – follow Neil’s signal on the map to know where you might be needed should he call for backup. As much as you did enjoy the possibility of tracking his movements somehow, you did not appreciate the cheeky smile Ives had on his face when he gave you the job. Or the comment combined with it: “Well, he’s your boyfriend, it’s only fair you keep him on the metaphorical leash here”. That is how the small blinking dot on the map of Tallinn became your sole focus for the past hour. Just before everything kicked off, Neil radioed you with a simple message: The mission is about to start. Wait for further instructions.

Ever since your morning phone call and the revelations that came out, you only exchanged a few texts concerning the practicalities of the action. Despite the nerves, you did hope to see him in near future. Even if just to check whether what he said was true. Looking for a distraction from the sudden thoughts, you glanced at the screen again. They were near, on the main junction of the highway, heading towards the port. Your SUVs were parked underneath a small overpass, five minutes away in the current traffic conditions. Which proved to be convenient, as it turned out.

“Is he still following the set route?” Ives’s question brought you to the present moment.

“Yeah, they’re-” you glanced to double-check the exact location when you realised that something has changed.

The dot was not moving. It was still blinking, but clearly, they have stopped at a crossing. Traffic lights? Your brain somehow knew that it could not be that simple. You opened your mouth to voice the thoughts when the comm came alive on the dashboard with static crackling:

“We need back up here. ASAP”

“Roger that” Ives tossed you the radio “Ask him about the details”

Without waiting for more information, Michael fired up the SUV engine as Ives contacted the second vehicle.

“Neil” you spoke into the receiver “What happened?” you flinched at the louder noise from the radio.

Gunshots?

“We’ve been ambushed by Sator’s people. TP’s status unknown”

Bloody brilliant. Swallowing down the rising worries, you asked another question:

“How many people?” another gunshot pierced the silence.

“Not sure. They’ve gotten clean up orders” a strained breath from Neil told you how bad the situation was.

“Okay. We’ll be there soon” you glanced at the road ahead.

Still, 2 mins to go. Anxiety was threatening to overpower you at any moment. But now was not the time.

“Hurry up” Neil closed the channel with a final dose of static.

Fuck… Forcing a deeper breath, you could only watch as you got closer to him. The sheer thought of something happening to Neil was unimaginable. That was enough to trigger panic. So you pushed the idea to the back of your head, focusing on the distance disappearing.

There was no mistaking the fact that you have been led to the right place. Crashed cars, asphalt littered with glass shards and broken parts, gunshots piercing the air. The destination looked like a car pile-up from an action sequence. Frantically looking through the windows, you tried to spot that blonde head. To no avail. The SUV came to a sharp halt as the squad members began jumping out of the vehicle. Once everyone else disembarked, you moved to follow them, only to be stopped by Ives:

“You’re staying here. I can’t have you out in the shoot-out” his blue gaze was stern, hand blocking exit out of the car.

The idea that you were so close to Neil and could not see him was enough to make you angry.

“I can handle myself. And he’s-” you spit out the words in the face of the squad leader while trying to push him away.

“I said no. The conversation’s over” with a final glare, he stepped away and scanned the horizon for immediate danger “If someone approaches the car, you know what to do,” he threw as a parting remark and disarmed the rifle.

Fucking hell! Groaning in frustration, you kicked one of the seats. He was so close. You glanced at the device in your hand. He could not be further than behind the first line of crashed cars. Biting on your lip harshly, you quickly went over the options. One was to obey Ives and stay inside the bloody SUV like a well-behaved child everyone apparently took you for. No one seemed to care about the vehicles you parked on the outskirts of the action. Flinching at the further salve from the heavy artillery, you knew that the squad had joined the fray. You could be safe here… but… Taking a deep breath you knew there was no possibility you could stay away from the action. Not when Neil was there, potentially in danger. It was not possible to give up on someone that important just because you were told to. Christ…

Glancing through the windows again, you could see Sator’s people attempting to clear the place. The squad evidently attempted to push at them from one side, hoping to get a clean sweep that way. Then, just as you were about to go back to the internal crisis overwhelming your thoughts, you did a double-take. Surely not? You would recognize that hair colour everywhere. There he was attempting what was looking like a skirting manoeuvre to circle the mercenaries with the Cavalry on the opposite side. Only that left him completely uncovered, in the direct line of fire. Bloody idiot. The instinct to jump out and run to him kicked in. The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would disobey the orders. And leave the car unguarded. All the hesitation disappeared once the comm in the car crackled with static:

“Emergency assistance needed. ASAP” the tension in his voice made your pulse quicken.

The lack of response from the team made all the blood drain from your face. You could see him trying to hide behind some overturned car. The henchmen were near enough to get him with no problem.

That thought was all the convincing you needed. Swearing, you quickly pocketed the tracking device, adjusted your protective gear, and grabbed the gun. You have been offered a rifle (just in case), but you preferred the classic. At least it was something right?

In two leaps, you have covered the distance. With the team trying to get through the attack line on the other side, it was just you and Neil. You shot a round in the direction of the approaching merc, missing the target yet earning attention from the main object of your focus. His eyes met yours across the plane. You could see shock, worry, and something else there. Suddenly a salve whizzed past you. The bullets cutting through the air all around, shooting past your head and piercing the car behind. A strangled yell from Neil was a surprising reaction, yet you did not blink twice. He was all you could see. With a final surge through the field, you reached him. The pure fury and anguish in his eyes took you aback. Have you missed something? But there was no time to ask questions.

“Go, I’ll cover you” you whispered, looking at the approaching group of mercs.

Neil took an additional moment to stare at you as though he could not quite believe you were there. But then he jumped up, aiming the gun at the man closest to you. The same that undoubtedly attempted to take you out seconds prior. When the mercenary fell with a bullet in the head, you stared in shock. There was no time to recover as Neil pushed through, barely looking behind at you. It was surprisingly easy to tune out the emotions, taking out anyone who could threaten him or halt your advances. You worked well together, movements in sync enough to stun the opponents on a few occasions. For a second, you wondered whether it was only bound to get better the closer you get to each other. That was certainly an interesting idea… In no time you have met with the line of the squad, watching on as Ives dealt with the last man standing. You have won. The adrenaline started to leave your body, resulting in tremors and shaking hands. Clutching the gun to prevent it from cluttering to the ground, you met the exasperated gaze of the squad leader. Your only response was a shrug. You did not regret the decision, seeing as you have evidently helped them in the field.

“Neil? Do you know where TP is?” Ives took his attention off you and looked at the blonde man.

You followed his gaze, for the first time actually looking at Neil since you spotted him across the plane. At the moment, you were struck by what a sight he was. Navy shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose the forearms covered with veins. The same tie he had on during your walk. Your pulse quickened. The vest drawing attention to the ratio between his broad shoulders and narrow hips, accentuated with a belt. Brown loose-cut trousers and scrapped leather shoes adding a classy touch. You were aware that you were staring yet unable to look away. Not knowing whether to blame it on the adrenaline rush, you wanted nothing but to touch him. Take off those driving gloves that piqued your interest at the first sight. Or have them be wrapped around your throat with just enough pressure. Get rid of the tie again. And…

“Think Sator took him” Neil’s response broke through your increasingly hazy thoughts.

Shaking off the images that started appearing, you looked up at his face again. The ruffled hair and flushed cheeks were not helpful. Fuck’s sake. It had to be stress. Because what else?

“Their place in the port?” Ives asked, his tone nothing but strict business.

“That’s my bet” Neil shrugged, looking around with something dark in his eyes.

He was tense, like a feral animal that could lash out any moment. You were not wrong. The cold blue gaze settled on you almost remorsefully, but before you could open your mouth, he snapped:

“What the fuck were you thinking?” the hostile edge to his voice was new.

You flinched as though you have been hit. The lack of physical impact did not matter. Your heart stammered. He need not explain what it was about. Please no.

“You needed a cover. They weren’t responding, so I did the obvious” you shrugged, feeling the anger grow “And I could ask you the same question” spitting the sentence into his face, you took a step closer.

You have never seen him that furious. Not even in Oslo after your little fuck-up. The sight was both terrifying and alluring. The dark blue eyes blazed with fury. Jaw clenched. Slight pink tint on the cheeks. And yet, still, you had no idea why he reacted like this.

“I knew what I was doing. That’s the difference” the coldness of his voice threw you off.

So it was real. He did mean it. You tried to save him, and here he was, pissed off at you. Making you almost regret it. Almost, because the love was there too. Not giving away no matter what.

“That’s bullshit” it felt good to admit, “You were reckless, as always, and expecting me to-” your rant got interrupted by a strangled yell.

Nothing prepared you for the revelation then. Or the sudden anguish on his face.

“You were almost shot!” Neil’s eyes glistened as though he was close to tears.

Suddenly it made sense. The rain of bullets you were hit with just before getting to him. The way he reacted. But you made it. Nothing happened. So why was he acting like that?

“Almost” ignoring the growing pain in your chest, you pointed out the obvious.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ives and the rest of the squad observing you. You would rather not have an audience, but then Neil seemed determined to drive his point forward. His face scrunched into a pained scowl.

“Fucking hell,” turning away from your gaze, his back tensed even more “You can’t do shit like that just because I’m involved” the defensive tone took you aback.

What? It was getting worse. You could feel the confidence leaving your body as you struggled for a response. You would never think Neil would do something like that. Not after everything you have told him. Figuring out the only way you that could work, you took your own line of attack.

“Who says I did it only because it was you?” the implication hurt because it was partially correct “Quite an ego you’ve got there” his back was still turned to you.

That angered you even more. Crossing the distance, you placed your hand on his shoulder, making him turn to you. He flinched upon the contact as though your touch burned him. Oh my god. The tears welled up in your eyes. It could not be real. But the emotionless look in the eyes you thought you knew was very much real. It was as though before you realised Neil has built up a wall, guarding himself against you. And there was nothing you could do to get through. You got shocked by the cruel smirk that split his face.

“I can see the way you look at me. As though you wanted to-” you interrupted him sharply.

“Neil”

It was too much. Perhaps because it was true. But he was not done. Persistent to keep going.

“Admit it. It’s because you said some things, and now you can’t bear the thought of losing the object of your affection” the careless tone and the words pierced your heart with gut-wrenching pain “Well, you see, sometimes feelings need to be put aside” he added, almost casually.

Fuck. You gasped, unable to keep a straight face. He might as well see what he has done. Some things. So this is how much your confession meant to him. Good to know. You wanted to slap him, but you felt like that could turn back on you. So instead, you made sure to straighten your back, putting on the familiar mask of neutrality. You have done this before. Probably should have expected it. Only why did it hurt ten times more?

“Can we leave the bloody lovers quarrel till later?” Ives’s voice pierced through the tension.

But you were not ready. Raising your hand in a stopping motion, you turned back to Neil. His face was terrifyingly indifferent. Maybe it was all an act. Or maybe it was just that easy for him to get over whatever you thought you had. A lie. Gathering the smithereens of confidence, you forced a levelled tone:

“Says you. As though you’re acting out of reason right now” you gave him your best impression of the sneer visible on his face.

You could crumble at any moment now. Only the pounding in your ears and the wounded pride were keeping you upwards. But Neil wanted to destroy everything.

“More than you” he glanced at the team waiting impatiently “I really thought you’d know better than this” the punchline was more than you could take.

No. Please no. Your knees buckled, and you swayed. But then you caught the flash of concern in his eyes. Just for a split of a second. So it was not all cold and hatred? You heard Ives huff out a string of curses. There was no time for this. Whatever it even was. Honesty it was then.

“Better than to give away my heart to someone like you? Evidently not” you met his eyes for the final time before walking away in the direction of the SUVs.

The shock you saw in Neil’s face was enough to fuel the survival instincts. With the heart broken or not, the mission was still on. And the rest was silence.

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

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alatismeni-theitsa · 4 years ago

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Do you have any sort of, words of encouragement, for a Greek-American who is struggling to learn Greek? My family is pretty connected to our heritage but I was never taught to speak Greek. I am an adult now, and I know I'm at an incredible disadvantage trying to learn a new language. The most discouraging thing is when I try to pronounce a word with a sound that isn't really in English (like γ) and I KNOW I am not saying it right, but no matter how hard I try I can't pronounce it correctly.

Hello! I'm very sorry for delaying this answer for some days, but as we see here, Zeus was fucked this week 😅

I will pin my answer so you can see it when you return, and the rest will be under the cut.

I believe there are MANY reasons for hope in this situation. Of course it feels very discouraging that you don't know the language already and you might feel left behind in this process. Plus, learning a new language is not an easy thing to learn. But worry not!

You are grown, and that means you can learn a language better and with more consistency and discipline. Have trust in your skills as an adult. What is more, you have grown up around Greek speakers and you will pick up certain things faster.

You are not alone in feeling this way. Most of the world has to learn a second language (and a third, as it's usual for many) and that would be the language most dominant in the wider area. Almost every person in the West who is not an English speaker has to learn English and learn it well, otherwise we feel embarrassed every time we try and form a sentence. For example, we apologize to each other about our accents in English German and French, even though we speak Greek.

Surely there are some differences between your situation and ours, but I mentioned this to show you that most people will be very understanding with accents because they have the same struggle. I mean, I'm not going to make fun of someone for having an accent in Greek when I sound like a demented chicken in German, despite taking years of lessons 😵 I have more confidence in my English but even now that I'm writing to you in this language I have to quadruple-check my sentences and phrasing. The amount of times I apologized in advance for my accent to English speakers is higher than my credit.

I relayed your situation to other Greek speakers and non-English speakers, and ALL agreed the accent is not anything they would pay attention to and told me to write you that you shouldn't feel bad about that. I did that because I knew they would have words of encouragement for you. And it turns out they believe exactly what I'm writing in this answer.

Accents are natural. You cannot expect not to have an accent when you have been speaking a different language all your life. Beating yourself up for having difficulty with the Greek pronunciation is like beating yourself up for something normal like walking or laughing when hearing something funny. You lack practice with the pronunciation due to circumstances beyond your control. You are doing what you can to change that, and every small win is worth celebrating!

I found this post the other day:

The notes? The likes?

And NO disagreements in the comments and reblogs for OP’s statement! Look how many thousands are supportive in this! (And that’s a small fraction of people who understand accents are natural.) And some of the responses:

Sure, some mention they have met native speakers who made it more difficult to feel comfortable with their accent and phrasing. But those people are assholes in general, and not the people you want to surround yourself with. If a relative expresses disgust about your accent remind them you didn’t have any control of how much and how well you were taught Greek when you were a kid, and then tell them that if they are a true friend and relative to you, they should support you in your journey. And even if you had some control and chose not to learn, you are learning now. So they should leave their resentment behind because, honestly, what do they have to lose from you learning the language better??

For the embarrassment you feel for yourself: you wouldn't make fun of a Greek for having trouble with the “r”, "s", “ch”, and possibly the "h" when speaking English, so extend that kindness to yourself when you speak Greek. Not to mention that with enough practice and time you can nail the accent!

Worst case scenario, if the accent never leaves, that's no problem whatsoever. Anyone who thinks badly of you for your accent is probably a PoS and they don't deserve your time. No matter where you are from, if they make you feel bad for having an accent in Greek, block them from your mind forever.

But chances are that (from experience) if anyone laughs with how you said something, I guarantee they are not laughing at you but because of how strange the sound or phrasing was. The person doesn't think badly of you because of this. Making mistakes of any kind when learning a language is very natural and it's something everyone must accept. If you are not willing to make mistakes and expose your language vulnerabilities to people who know the language better, might as well not try improving at all.

If anyone corrects you, they are not doing it out of pity. The majority of Greeks do it because they are very happy you speak the language and want you to be even more fluent. Like, they are doing it as an act of backing you up, they are feeling like they are giving you that extra XP to reach the next level! Others - like me - get that rush of happiness when they get to share their language with others 😁

I remember a guy on Tiktok who was learning Greek and ordered a coffee "without sugar" in a Greek cafe but instead of saying σκέτο ("without") he said σκατά ("shit"). I mean damn that was funny! I remember it weeks after I saw the video of him telling that story and it always cracks me up. Do I still appreciate him the same as before and follow him? Absolutely! He just had an unfortunate - and funny - incident, not something that lessened his integrity as a person.

From tiktok again: An American girl wanted to pronounce γύρος correctly when ordering it, and she was mumbling to herself on camera: “yeero, yeero, yeero!!” When her time to order came she shouted “May I have a gairow? FUUUUCKK FUUCK FUCK I SAID IT WRONG” 🤣

Another example is Athena from the Bachelor 2! She has given some gems throughout the show because she doesn't know the language that well, but everyone still loves her because she spreads positivity and is so cute!! If we, as viewers, disliked her it would be because of her character, not because she doesn't know the language well. And if some of the other girls in the show don’t take her seriously is because she laughs too much and mentions feta too often, not due to her Greek level of literacy. Athena, even when she is hurting someone else’s feelings, is always so genuine and you just can’t be mad at her!

I really can’t stretch enough how people laugh at the mishap, not the person! Please don’t feel discouraged if you ever see a Greek laughing with the pronunciation of an English speaker when it comes to Greek words (which I have done as well) because we never laugh at the speakers. We don’t even know them! We might laugh at one mistake but then instantly want to become this individual’s friends because we think they are amazing (see the three examples I mentioned above, the sugar guy, the gyro girl and Athena). Because that’s the normal thing to do; laugh at fun stuff and not judge people for their small mishaps. (In a casual setting, and not to an uncomfortable degree ofc!)

There are so many things to a person other than their accent and the accent becomes old news really fast. What remains is how the presence of a person makes you feel and if they are a good individual. If an English speaking friend says yatakai instead of γατάκι that opens the way for sooo many jokes! Greeks will laugh, do some YATAKAAIIII screams - ninja style, and then continue being friends with that person!

Greeks makes these mistakes as well... A Greek once said "arrive arrive" (φτάνει φτάνει) instead of "enough" when an English speaker was filling his glass. A Lower English degree caught fire that day 🤣 I have many bad examples of Greeks’ mistakes in English but I can’t remember a lot. But I’ve seen many videos of Greeks mocking themselves for how they sound in English. You can take a look at Tsipras’ (our former prime minister) mistakes on youtube if you are feeling brave 😂 (Ο Τσίπρας μιλάει Αγγλικά)

So, own your possible mistakes, laugh at them and move on because everyone makes them and we better have some good while we are struggling!

(( For the record, we are not making fun of Tsipras because of his accent, but because 1) he doesn’t know γρι English and yet he rarely brought a translator with him in international meetings with world leaders, 2) he could absolutely not hold a conversation with negotiating or discussing 3) he didn’t take steps to improve or fix the situation (like bring a translator). 4) Instead, he chose to torment us all with mind-numbing hours of reading English texts and making other world leaders struggle to explain to him what they meant for the nth time and meetings move at a snail pace.))

Alright, now that I cringed with the memory of Tsipras speaking English, I’ll go though the recommendations for improving the Greek pronunciation.

1) Go to my resources for learning Greek (#learn greek) where I have many videos where you can hear the sounds individually or withing other words very clearly. Easy Greek on youtube has excellent videos about pronunciation!

2) Seek practice as much as possible. Some Greeks switch to English when they hear an English accent to make the conversation smoother for the other person. If Greek speakers insist on talking with you in English tell them that you would wish to speak in Greek. I've seen that people often mirror the accent of the native speaker when they speak to one, so this might work for you as well with hours of practice. If no Greek speakers are available to you now, you can find Greek Americans online – or go to their festivals – and start talking to them.

3) Listen to Greek podcasts, songs and shows. (In my blog you’ll find them at #greek youtuber #podcast #greek tv #greek movie #short film #greek music). You know when you hear a catchy foreign song and then it’s stuck in your head and you say all the words perfectly without even knowing what it means? Well, this helps with pronunciation!

4) If you had Spanish in school or have Spanish friends mimicking the Spanish accent might help you. (Our accents are extremely close! The Spanish are the best at Greek pronunciation, and vice versa!)

5) Find sounds in your native language that sound close to the sounds you want to say in Greek. In German lessons I had trouble with “ch” in certain words because I made it sound like χ and it was horrible. My Greek teacher told me to remember how χ sounds in χήνα (it sounds a bit flatter) and make that sound when I encountered “ch”. It worked actually!

To people who have English as their native language I often suggest they remember the sound of w for γ because, although not used the same in the word, at times they have the same intensity. Γ is pronounced more “to the front” of the mouth, so if you can bring that sound forward in your mouth you’ll be very close, if not accurate, to γ. (But don’t bring it too much forward, sometimes it can sound like a “y”, unless you are saying a word where γ sounds like “y”).

Greeks pronounce σ more closely to “sh” than to “s”, so you also might want to keep that in mind since σ often distinguishes the Greek accent in English for me :p

That’s all! If you have more questions or want to tell me anything else about your experience with learning Greek, feel free to send another ask or a DM!

#answered #learn greek #pronunciation #encouragement

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lovelywingsart · 4 years ago

Text

Apologies (mild 18+)

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

The 'part 2' to the small 'trilogy' of stories! The 'part 1' to this is Irritation. :D (I can't really say when 'part 3' will be posted, but of course it'll be added into the Masterlist when it is!)

There's still alot going on for me IRL, but I finally managed to do this... :'D I'm sorry if more entries take a while to upload...!

-----

*Warning?: Small regrets, aggressive speech, teasing, mild 18+ themes near end

Summary: Emelia doesn't really regret much, but seeing Karl's reaction to her words makes her hunt him down to apologize. But will he accept it? And how?

It felt like hours had passed, and Emelia finally made her way back up to the higher levels of the factory once her work was complete. Her words had been stinging her brain, and she felt worse and worse as time went by. She purposely avoided certain routes and hallways to prevent any more potential Soldat run-ins while thinking. Would HE even want to see HER?? She wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't... Hell, for all she knew, she could be killed as soon as she walked in the room when she found him. And that was IF she could find him... Where he chose to hide away was always a mystery to her until she actualy found him. She had learned that the hard way after multiple 'family meetings'; the thought made her physically cringe.

She kept her eye open and focused, listening for anything that could have clued her in on his whereabouts. Humming, pacing, swearing or muttering in rough German, even scraps and pieces being thrown in aggravation. But, save for the noises of the factory, there was nothing. Silence, so to speak. Even as she took the elevator floor to floor. Even as she looked in any door she could find on the way up. Even as she searched through every hallways, eventually risking finding the Soldats in order to find him. This apology thing was truly eating at her mind, and she couldn't stand it... But she couldn't leave it alone.

It took her much longer to look for the man than it took a full working 'shift', she thought, enough so to where she almost decided to give up. She was tired... She was exhausted. She was exhausted, and despite her initial irritation having lessened, a new irritation had flared. An irritation with herself, primarily. A desire to see him at least once before she managed to lay herself down to have yet another restless sleep. To apologize despite never having a reason to do so before. But the longer she searched, the more she wanted to just... stop. It had never taken her THIS long to find him... but perhaps she deserved it. She let out a sigh as she hit the elevator to the highest floor, making her way through the halls once more in a last attempt to find him. But alas, there was... nothing.

Thoughts clouded her mind as she finally made her way towards the small, personal workshop he had, going through her usual routine of climbing the pipes and slipping through the grate in the floor without being detected by the worst of the Soldats. Sure, there were definitely easier ways to get up to that level, but this was what she was used to. No, he wasn't here, either... Now she REALLY had no idea where he was. With a heavy sigh, she made her way to a hidden door on the other side of the workshop, pausing only to glance at the primary table. It looked as if he had been making... something. But small bits of recently crushed metal made her wince, and it wasn't until she caught sight of a small gear that she moved again, slowly nearing the table itself. It was the gear he had taken from the mould before she opened her mouth. She gingerly picked it up, noticing it not even touched by his powers. She could feel it... Metal moved by him had a certain... energy to it. It wasn't something she had started to notice until recently. The gear she held didn't possess this energy, and it made her feel even more guilty. Just how pissed was he to not even use the Cadou???

She took a breath before stuffing it in the pocket of her tied jumpsuit, hearing the small *clink* as it hit the other one she had pulled after he left. Why did she take them...? She didn't know... It was a mindless decision that she knew wouldn't have much of an impact.

Distant sounds of machinery could be heard as she finally made her way through the door, her footsteps silent as she made her way to the room she occasionally occupied when she wasn't in the factory itself. It wasn't HER room per-say, more like a resting place if needed. She reached up to take her hair out of the small tie and run her hand through it before opening the door with a sigh, only to freeze as she entered the room. She was met with Heisenberg on the 'bed', laying on his back with his arms behind his head, his eyes closed and his legs crossed. His jacket and button-up shirt were thrown across a chair, leaving him in the dark tank top he wore underneath. She watched his muscles tense as the door opened, his jaw tightening somewhat as she held her breath. A wave of nervousness flooded over her as she stood in the doorway, not unsure if she should even move.

"... Ah..." she tried, almost afraid to speak. "... H-Hey..."

She gulped as she was simply met with an acknowledging grunt. He said nothing... He didn't even look at her. She stood for a moment before holding her breath and slowly entering the room, mentally bracing herself for any kind of impact. But... nothing came. Even as she hesitantly made her way to the desk, jumping slightly as she heard the door close naturally behind her. She tore her eye away from him, instead focusing on the desk itself, looking over notes he had written. Or... lack thereof... The paper on top was filled with obvious, angry eraser marks over random words that had been written so many times that the paper itself was imprinted with them. Other miscellaneous papers were crumpled or bent, indicating frustration. There was silence until she spoke again.

"... Production ran smoothly..." she said quietly, only to flinch as she heard movement. She looked at him to see as he slowly sat up.

"Good." He said simply, lacking any sort of interest.

Emelia felt a twist in her gut as he moved to stand, his movements somewhat stiff as she heard soft clicking from his left leg once he stood. It was then that she knew, her words had hit him harder than she thought. It sounded as if the leg was going to give out on the poor man as he walked despite knowing it wasn't, nearly brushing past her on his way to the door. It sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine. She held her breath, the twisting in her stomach not leaving.

"H-Hey..." she tried, her voice soft as she spoke over her shoulder. She heard the flick of a lighter before she smelled the sweet scent of the cigar.

"What." His voice was low as he glanced back at her. She couldn't face him... His eyes dug into her shoulders. It was an admittedly cold feeling... She didn't like it.

"Shouldn't... Shouldn't you... Relax a bit...?" She offered, trying to sound as hopeful as she could despite the feeling. She looked at him as she heard him move again.

"I already did." He replied, mere inches away from the door, itself. She couldn't help as she felt the smallest bit of panic.

"W-wait-"

"I have work to do, Emelia." He growled, reaching for the handle. It was then that she turned around fully, her face that of regret.

"Karl, please...!" She said, her voice nearly begging. He seemed to pause, his head turning slightly towards her. He said nothing, the smoke from the cigar flowing through his nose as if he were an enraged bull. But she kept her eye on him, her own jaw tightening as she took a breath.

"I... I'm..." she started, reaching to rub her arm slightly. He didn't move. "I'm sorry..."

Silence filled the room once more as Heisenberg stared at her, his hand hovering over the door handle. She then took a breath, opening her mouth to speak once more.

"I... I really am..." she sighed, looking down. "I just... I wanted to be alone... Those damned Soldats haven't granted me any peace all week, the bloody Lycans have been running me ragged outside of the factory, and I've been so damned angry and I just... I wasn't thinking, and..." she paused, taking a breath before looking back up at him and sighing. "No, I... There's... there's no excuse. I shouldn't have said anything... I'm sorry, Karl... I'm so sorry."

Silence.

More silence.

'Please say SOMETHING...' she thought, watching as he finally looked at her. She couldn't tell WHAT he was thinking behind the shades he wore... It worried her. Her breath halted as he slowly moved his hand away from the door, turning his body to face her entirely, his movements slow.

"You really think I can forgive you just like that?" He asked quietly, his shaded gaze burrowing into her skull. Smoke came out of his mouth with each word. She nearly shrank back, lowering her own gaze to the floor.

"No..." she answered, shaking her head. "I wasn't expecting you to..."

"And what's stopping me from leaving this room, or even crushing you?"

"Nothing."

Her answer was immediate, and she glanced up at him to see him left his chin. He seemed to think for a few moments, his gaze flicking around her form. But to her surprise, he relaxed.

"The gears you have are defects." He said simply, nodding to her hip. What?? She stared at him, now incredibly confused.

"What...?" She asked, unintentionally backing away and leaning against the table as he walked to her. He stopped in front of her, raising a brow at the confused- and now nervous- look she gave him.

"The gears in your pocket. They're defects. Check around the edges." He repeated, holding out his hand. The gears... She reached down to pat her side, feeling the pieces of metal against her leg as they made a small noise from the movement.

Oh.

She reached into her pocket and pulled both of them out. She looked over each one for a moment, frowning as she saw what he meant. There were holes... Not the usual holes, of course, and not where she'd notice immediately unless she had closely inspected each one beforehand. They were along the insides of the gear edges, nearly going through the metal itself. There were multiple holes in each gear, indicating odd air bubbles when the metal had set. In other words, anything they were used in would have ended badly. That must have been why he had taken the one in the first place... She then groaned, thinking back to the amount of them she had made.

"Damn it..." she growled, only to jump as Heisenberg nudged her hand with his.

"The others are fine, if that's what you're worried about." He said casually, nodding to his hand. "That also means you took one off my work table."

Emelia looked at him before giving a sigh, carefully setting one of the gears in his palm.

"Sorry..." she said quietly, her eye moving to his hand as he inspected the gear he was given. "I just thought-"

"Thought you could fix a mistake with a broken gear?" He asked, watching her face. She hesitated.

".... maybe... I just... didn't know how." she admitted, looking at her own. She was quiet for a moment. "You didn't touch it with your powers, I thought maybe it could be used for something..." she mumbled.

Her words seemed to make him perk up somewhat with a newfound interest.

"I didn't what?" He asked. She froze.

"... You... you didn't use your Cadou...?" She repeated carefully, looking up at him.

"How can you tell?"

How COULD she tell??? She knew it was a recent thing, but...

"It... I don't know, it's... It's hard to explain." She managed, reaching for the one In his hand and gingerly taking it as he opened his palm for her. "There's... almost an energy to the things you've used your Cadou on, if that makes sense... Almost like a small... fuzzy electric coating... Sort of."

"And when did you realize this?" He asked, legitimately curious as he blew out more smoke. She stopped, her eye widening slightly.

Of course she knew when. Or, at least what she assumed started it. 'The first time you touched me like that', she thought, her cheeks going slightly red at the thought. The metals in her own body had felt different since then, setting off a small change in feeling to every metal around them daily.

"Since we... uhm..." she mumbled, her eye moving between the gears as she pushed them together slightly. She flinched as Heisenberg gave a soft chuckle, knowing exactly what she had meant. It was an interesting development, he thought, as well as a highly amusing one.

"I guess that makes sense." He said, a light smirk crossing his features.

"... It does?" She asked quietly, only to jump as he took a step closer and leaned forward, setting his hands on the edges of the table beside her and effectively rendering her unable to move. She could feel his body heat once more, though was slightly more concerned about the cigar that was ever so close to her face despite him being careful to not let the burning embers close to her skin. She clutched the small gears to her chest, watching as he studied her face.

"Back to the original topic..." he started, noticing as her cheeks reddened just slightly. "There might be a way I can forgive you."

Emelia stared at him with a wide eye, watching as he backed away enough to take the cigar from his mouth without it touching her.

"... there is...?" She asked quietly, watching the smoke curl into the air as he nodded and spoke.

"Yup." He said, gesturing to her hands. "Find something to do with those gears. Something that WON'T destroy my factory, preferably."

She paused.

"That's it...?" She managed, utterly confused. He shrugged.

"For now."

He held out his hand to offer the cigar to her. There was a moment of silence as she stood still, only moving as he gestured to it. She hesitantly reached up and took the object from his fingers, nodding her thanks before slowly putting it between her own lips. He removed his glasses before nodding to her hand.

"Think you can do that for me?" He asked, watching as she exhaled smoke from between her teeth with a nod.

"Of course." She replied, almost too eagerly for her taste. But she meant it... Something in her mind told her she wanted to appease him in any way possible now. She didn't know WHAT she'd use them for, or how long it would take, but she'd find a way.

More smoke came from her mouth as she took another drag, handing it back to him carefully. He took it back, but simply kept his position in front of her and gave a hum.

"Maybe one or two more things." He said suddenly, the smallest smirk forming as more nervousness filled her face.

"What...?" She asked, moving to set the gears on the table next to her, only to jump with a surprised noise as he suddenly leaned forward and nearly crushed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was somewhat rough, a decent amount of aggression behind it as she was pushed backwards against the table and nearly losing her balance. Her hands few back to brace herself against the table as not to fall backwards, just barely managing to keep very balance. small shiver ran down her spine as she returned it, and another came as he let out an angry growl.

"Sit." He grumbled against her lips. She let out a confused whine as he gripped the table behind her, and she thought he'd toss the thing with her on it. The small cogs clattered to the floor as he suddenly swiped everything away from the edge of the table while keeping her against him.

"I said SIT." He growled louder, earning a surprised yelp as he suddenly grabbed her hips. His fingers dug into her sides as he lifted her and shoved her on to the table, feeling her hands fly up to hold onto his shoulders in attempts to balance herself once more. He didn't let up, another growl leaving his throat as he sent a rippling pulse through the piercings in her body.

Emelia let out a squealing whine at the feeling, though was kept locked to him as he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. Her back arched into his chest with the pulses of electricity, attempting to hide the muffled whines that escaped her throat. But they only encouraged him. He felt her nervous hands travel to hold his jaw, her fingers trembling. Not with fear, however, very obviously proven as she welcomed the kiss and touches with every movement he made. She gasped into the kiss as he suddenly tugged her forward, pressing his hips to hers. Her thighs tightened slightly around his sides as the pulses grew in power, and she was suddenly molded to him and soaking up every bit of warmth he gave.

"Not used to it and you already want more, yeah?" He said, pulling away from her enough to speak, yet still close enough for his lips to brush hers with every word. He could see her face, taking pride in the redness of her cheeks and the near begging glint in her eye.

She was silent, only slightly nodding with a single, embarrassed whine as her thighs trembled against him. Heisenberg chuckled, the tone dark a he smirked almost evilly.

"Didn't think you were so eager." He started, leaning down to press rough kisses and bites against her neck, marking the skin almost immediately. A chill ran down her spine as her breaths came in light pants while he bit up to her jaw, her hands gripping his shirt straps.

"You pissed me off, Emelia. I don't take that shit lightly." He growled lowly, his lips nearly against her ear. He tugged her shirt from its tucked position, enjoying as she nearly melted into putty in his hands. He continued. "You pissed me off, so here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to do whatever the hell I want with you and to you." He stated, moving one hand up to brush his fingers along her neck as he allowed the pulses to cease for the moment. He felt her breath hitch as he pressed his fingers just below her jaw, feeling her pulse quicken. "You're gonna do what I say and you're not gonna say a god damn word about it. Do you understand?"

Emelia felt another large shiver down her spine at his words, feeling his palm rest against her neck as she swallowed nervously. Sure, they made her just she smallest bit scared. But it was also... exciting? It sent her mind into a frenzy, and she legitimately wasn't sure if she should have been afraid or aroused. Either way, she nodded almost immediately, taking as deep a breath as she could without making any other sudden movements. He grinned with an evil chuckle.

"Good girl." He grumbled, leaning to bite down on her neck once more before backing away fully, chuckling at the quiet whine of protest he received in response as his hand left her throat. Emelia froze for a moment once she realized his warmth had left her, covering her face in near embarrassment with her legs almost immediately closing together as he adjusted his shirt.

"For now, you're gonna wait." He said simply, standing up straight as she looked up at him with disbelief. How could he just-

"H-Hey...!" She started, only stopping as he reached forward and grabbed under her jaw, pressing his fingers to her cheeks and yanking her forward just slightly.

"Shut up and stay here, Doll." He purred, watching as she squirmed slightly on the desk. "Relax yourself, you're gonna need it-" he then paused, only to smirk, "- Or make yourself worse for me. This is the last choice you get until I come back."

Emelia gave another whimper, gulping as he shoved her back against the table before letting go.

"What are YOU doing...??" She asked, unable to hide the slight pout in her voice. Oh god, what in the hell WAS this?! What was she reduced to? POUTING?!

"I've got some work to do. Now stay in this room." Heisenberg chuckled, finally retreating back to the door. "It'll be worse for you if you leave. Trust me, I'll know."

She opened her mouth to speak, only to get cut off as he left the room almost too quickly. But even then, her voice was caught in her throat once the door clicked shut. How... How did he...

She finally pushed herself off the table with a shaky breath, nearly feeling her knees collapse under her from the warm feeling between her legs. It was a feeling she knew she had to get used to despite knowing what it was... While it usually irritated her, this time it filled her with a near excited anxiousness. It took a few moments to regain her composure, finally managing to walk with shaky muscles. She made her way to the 'bed', nearly flopping down on it with her legs hanging over the side as she got lost in thought. He didn't SEEM incredibly pissed anymore... Granted, he wasn't happy either.

Her hands covered her face, rubbing it slightly.. It COULDN'T have entirely been a way to 'forgive', could it...?? If so, what were his plans when he got back? She had no idea how fully experimental he was... Hell, she didn't know what SHE could do. The idea of him using her was terrifying and admittedly arousing at the same time, but she couldn't help but relax just slightly. At least he forgave her... Or, he would. Partially. That fact put her mind at ease somewhat, knowing that going out of her way to find him afterward to apologize wasn't all for naught. But for the time being, she let her mind wander to what he could possibly do. Or maybe she shouldn't... She barely knew what to expect from the subject alone much less from him, especially when he was upset. He pushed her hard enough without the aspect of sex, but now... She really didn't know what to expect.

Oh well... It would be fine.

Maybe.

#oc #resident evil #resident evil oc #resident evil village #resident evil village oc #re8 #re8oc #re8 oc #karl heisenberg #heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg x oc #lovelywingsart #lovelywingsocs #Metalworks fanfiction

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atc74 · 5 years ago

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Soul to Souls - Twelve

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, confrontation, angst, more fluff, language, more visions...or dreams? Sam’s issue is revealed, and a cliffhanger!

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 1683

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and new cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89, Impala divider by @writeyourmindaway.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. We’re halfway there folks, but we’ve barely gotten started!

Y’all are getting two chapters in three days! I am trying to get back on my normal posting schedule! Enjoy!

Soul to Souls Master List

Anna had been awake for a few minutes now, not opening her eyes. She was perfectly content to just lay there and drift off again in Dean’s arms, one draped protectively over her middle, fingers tracing small circles on her lower abdomen. Deciding against falling back asleep, she rolled to face him and slowly opened her eyes to meet his gaze; his eyes were even more beautiful in the morning light, shining like emeralds in the sun.

“Good morning, Mama.” He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Good morning yourself, Handsome.” She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in, and sighed contentedly as he continued his patterns on her belly.

“Did you sleep well?” Dean inquired.

Anna sighed once more as she extended her sleepy limbs in a satisfying stretch. “Yes, I did. I feel rested and ready for the day. What about you, Babe?”

He laughed softly, placing his lips to her forehead. “I did sleep well, but I’ve also been up for quite a while now, y’know, thinking.”

She turned my head up to look at him. “How long have you been up? What time is it, anyway?”

Glancing at his watch, Dean answered, “I’ve been up since about seven. It’s now almost noon. The mother of my children needs her rest, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I’ve already changed Baby’s oil, washed her, and helped Bobby out in the yard.”

Dean kissed her again, and Annaleigh felt the familiar stirring deep inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and rolled until she was settled on top of his long, hard body. She deepened the kiss and felt him respond to her. His hands roamed up and over her back and into her hair as their tongues fought for dominance. Dean moved his hands back down to her hips, repositioning her until the friction was perfect as they rubbed against each other.

She pulled away and sat up trying to catch her breath when the sound of her empty stomach betrayed her raging hormones. She needed food. She bent over to kiss him quickly before rolling off of him and the bed.

“I am sorry, Dean. This time I need food more than I need you to scratch this itch,” she apologized, throwing him a quick wink, and headed to the bathroom to get dressed and brush her teeth. He followed her and leaned his tall frame against the door.

“Anna, I was thinking about our little secret this morning.” He kept his eyes on hers while she finished brushing. “I want to keep it to ourselves for a little while; just until we know for sure and we can get in to see a doctor.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that, too. I don’t want anyone else to know just yet,” she agreed. “I don’t want to give Bobby anything else to worry about right now. Or Sam.” She cringed at his name on her tongue. She made her way back into the bedroom to get dressed. “Besides, I want to see my own doctor. I am going to call today and make an appointment, okay?” Placing both her hands on his chest, she raised up on her toes to kiss him. “Let’s eat. I am starving!” She grabbed his hand and led him downstairs.

“I think I can make that work. I appreciate you seeing me so soon, thank you very much, Dr. Ryan.” Annaleigh ended the call and placed her phone back in her pocket. She ate the sandwich Dean had left for her and wandered out to the shop looking for him. She found Bobby under the hood of his Chevelle.

“Hey, Old Man!” Anna called out, walking over to the side of the car to join him. “What are you doing out here? Where are the boys?”

“I sent them into town to get a part for me. Should be back soon.” He glanced over to her. “How are you doing, Annaleigh?” he asked, worry set deep in his eyes.

“I am doing okay today, Bobby. I feel rested and better than yesterday.” She looked away as she answered, leaning against the car.

“Girl, don’t lie to me. I can see right through you,” he challenged.

“I don’t know what it is, Bobby. I just feel like there is something off. With Sam, I mean. But I can’t put my finger on it,” she confessed, feeling better now that she had shared her doubts with someone else. “But, I don’t know how to tell Dean. Or even if I should tell him. I don’t like keeping things from him, but this isn’t mine to tell.”

He took a deep breath before he began. “I know what you’re talking about. I feel it, and honestly, I think Dean feels it, too. We still don’t know what rescued him from the pit, but he has been off since he showed up. I called in every favor I got trying to figure it out.”

“Bobby, he is cold and unfeeling. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up when he looks at me, well, looks through me is more like it. Like he isn’t human. But you tested him, so we know he is, but it’s like something is missing…” she trailed off as her thoughts started running wild in her head. She turned and ran back to the house. “I will be right back, I swear,” she called over her shoulder.

“Can that really be it?” Anna was talking to herself now, reading the lore books she had found in Bobby’s collection. “Could it be that simple? Well, it’s not simple at all, really. It’s gonna be real fucking complicated,” she muttered.

“What’s gonna be complicated, Red?” She jumped when she heard Dean’s voice behind her.

“Um, I don’t know yet. But, I will let you know as soon as I figure it out,” she faltered, but quickly regained her composure as she turned to face her boyfriend, his green eyes locking with hers. “Hey, Babe? Do you think we can take off in the morning? I want to be home by tomorrow night. I talked to my doctor, and she can get us in the day after tomorrow, but it’s her only opening. She’ll be gone for two weeks if we can’t make it,” she informed him.

“Are you kidding? That quick? Yeah, we can leave now if you want,” he answered, even more excited than she was. Anna jumped up, throwing her arms around his neck, leaving a loud kiss on his lips.

“Great! I just have to talk to Bobby real quick, then we can pack up Baby and hit the road.” She ran out the door and back to the shop.

“Bobby! I think I got it!” She proclaimed as she rounded the corner into the shop but skidded to a halt when she spotted Sam perched on the cooler next to the Chevelle.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire, girl?” Sam quipped.

She eyed Bobby cautiously. He nodded and she continued, “I know what is wrong with you, Sam. I don’t know what pulled you out from Lucifer’s grasp, but I do know that it did a piss poor job.”

Sam stood, stalked over to her, and threw his arms out wide, in a menacing stance. “What the hell are you talking about?” He shouted. “There isn’t anything wrong with me! Have you seen me? I’m in the best shape of my life. I’m a better hunter than Dean now. I’m awesome!” he boasted.

“No, Sam, you’re not!” she protested, placing a hand up to stop him from advancing on her. “Something is wrong with you and I know what it is. Whatever, whomever, rescued you from the fiery clutches of Hell; they left a part of you behind. You lost your soul, Sam! Your fucking soul? Does that sound o-fucking-kay to you?!” she argued.

Sam stopped and stared down at her. “Huh, no wonder I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything. Not Dean; not you. Nothing. And, you know what? I fucking love it. I feel free. Don’t think you can go fixing me like you did my brother. I am not broken. But, he was and you made him weak; you gave him hope,” he growled.

“Weak? I rescued him when he was in danger of losing himself because of you, Sam! That doesn’t make him weak. Scars don’t mean a person is damaged, it means they survived. And, that is what your brother did. Without you! He survived because of me!” Anna stormed past Sam and over to Bobby.

She gave the old man a tight embrace and told him she and Dean were leaving, with a promise to figure out how to make Sam whole. She gave Sam one more glare, then went back to the house to pack her things so they could hit the road.

The drive home took just over 18 hours, stopping only for bathroom breaks and fuel. Annaleigh fell asleep a few times; thanking God that Dean loved driving. She was snuggled up with her head in his lap, drifting off again.

“Hey, Beautiful. How are you feeling, Red? I got someone, well two someones, I want you to meet. Kids, say ‘Hi’ to your beautiful Mama.” Dean walked over to Annaleigh. She was in a hospital bed, wearing one of those terrible gowns. He gently handed her half the precious cargo he carried. She smiled, gazing at the bundle in her arms, and looked back up at him. He leaned over, placing a soft kiss to her lips. “I am so proud of you, Red. Look at what we did. We made these beautiful little people.” She knew she was crying, but they were happy tears. She took her eyes off the baby boy in her arms and looked up at Dean. He was crying too. He looked so incredibly happy.

“Red, I would like you to meet our son, Robert Samuel Winchester. And, this sweet little thing is…”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean winchester x ofc #dean x ofc #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut

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sepublic · 5 years ago

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Willow and the Blight Twins

I could speculate about a relationship between Emira, Edric, and Willow as of NOW in canon… But for fun, let’s explore what it could’ve been like at various points in the past, present, and speculate a little into the future as well!

Back when Willow and Amity were friends prior to the birthday incident, I don’t think Ed and Em would’ve necessarily had much to say about the Park girl. There’s definitely that implicit approval of Willow for making their little sister happy, but otherwise… I don’t think there’s much they’d have in common, amidst my own speculation on Emira and Edric kind of being closed-off in their own subtle way. Maybe the twins have some curiosity into Willow, into the novelty of this girl who made one Blight kid happy; Could she do the same?

But based on what we’ve seen, I imagine Emira and Edric’s interactions with Willow would’ve been minimal. At the very least, I like to think that they ended up teasing Amity quite a few times and Willow got caught in the crossfire; With Amity getting frustrated and annoyed and embarrassed, while Willow, just like Luz, low-key found Ed and Em to be kind of cute and intimidating in that sort of way. Of course, Amity would shut down Willow immediately on getting to know her older siblings more, and a slightly-disappointed Willow would just roll along with this and continue on. Maybe Willow herself got exasperated at Ed and Em’s antics- It’s hard to say how much of her personality in the past was like the one she has now. I’m just imagining Amity and Willow both cringing when Ed and Em arrive at the Blight Manor as they’re playing, and Amity finding cathartic relief in someone who agrees that they can be aggravating!

AFTER the birthday incident, however… Honestly, we don’t know if Emira and Edric knew, or at least suspected, what really happened. Amity claimed on the surface that it was because Willow was too weak- But I wouldn’t be surprised if they suspected their parents’ influence had something to do with it… And BOY did Odalia and Alador have a lot more to do with it than they would’ve expected, all right! Or maybe Ed and Em DID expect it, maybe they knew of the blackmail or at least suspected their parents of going to extreme lengths. I can’t say for sure, but- Given how they mention to Luz their concern over the way Amity treats people, I think her rejection of Willow was a particular incident that lingered on their mind.

Even if Amity HAD been threatened, I think the twins can take for granted how much bravery it takes to stand up to parental abuse when you don’t have the constant companionship of a twin. They actually mean well and want the best, but sometimes it seems like they can expect a bit too much from Amity- Just like their parents, albeit in a different way. Regardless, I could see a brief period where Ed and Em assume the worst of Willow for hurting their little sister’s feelings, and that’s why Amity rejected her. Maybe they pulled a mean prank or two at first, or at least immediately confronted Willow over it. If they had heard Amity’s reasoning at first –which makes more sense- then they wouldn’t exactly be mad at Willow. If anything, Amity would give either her fake reason, and/or the REAL one would be deduced…

Either way, Ed and Em recognize that Willow is a victim here. And, maybe they go to Willow and tell her about this! But then again, if they DID know the truth, why wouldn’t they have told Willow? Maybe they just didn’t really notice or think much of her in the first place, and didn’t bother questioning things. Who can say? But in this scenario, I can see Emira and Edric going over to Willow, reassuring the girl… Maybe low-key apologizing on behalf of the Blight family? Probably not. They don’t seem to be openly sentimental nor remorseful in that way. Even if they had known the truth, I can see Emira and Edric abstaining from telling Willow, because they don’t want to get involved and make things more complicated, and/or don’t see the point. Even if they WERE to get Willow involved again- This could just hurt Willow in the long run, as their parents’ threat would still stand. If Willow knew what really happened, she’d have reason to try to reconnect with Amity, and thus risk her chances at Hexside… So like Amity, the twins continue that recurring Blight trend of doing something painful to another person, for their own good. Perhaps Willow tried to connect with the two, if only to get back with Amity?

Beyond that- Like I said before, maybe Emira and Edric might get curious about Willow. Maybe they might approach the girl, to see what kind of kid could make their little sister happy… Maybe they could have Willow to themselves! Based on canon, however- If any attempts had been made, it clearly didn’t work out. I can see Willow wanting to avoid the Blights entirely after that incident- Or, maybe she tries to use Ed and Em to reconnect with Amity. Maybe Emira and Edric realize that Willow’s better off without Mittens… Amidst them kind of losing interest in Willow, if she only cares about them to get to Amity. Willow’s not exactly the kind of troublemaker like Ed and Em are, and she’s not very upfront the way Luz is- I don’t see her earning the twins’ trust, especially if Willow is still reeling from rejection and Boscha’s bullyng in subsequent years.

All in all, Emira and Edric might regard Willow with pity as that poor girl who got hurt by Mittens, the first in a LONG line of victims of their little sister, a reflection of the toxic person Amity is becoming- But beyond that and the novelty of having befriended their little sister, I think Ed and Em would just let Willow be. I think both sides would justifiably see a potential friendship as not worth the time nor energy. As Amity got older and became more of a bully, however… And as Emira and Edric became more aggressive and even too spiteful in trying to teach her a lesson- I could see them getting Willow involved to aggravate Mittens. They can be a little overaggressive and too eager about their plans and involving a third party in them, without much regard to how they feel…

Perhaps it’d have been a situation like Lost in Language, where the twins pulled Luz along into their attempt to post Amity’s diary entries across school. Maybe it could’ve led to resentment from Amity towards Willow, if Willow had gotten involved against her will… But even so, Amity still clearly misses Willow and tried to reconnect in a rather messed-up, condescending way in Episode 3. If anything bad HAD happened, it couldn’t have been too harsh- That, or Amity’s just that lonely. Which, she really was… And really, I can see Willow just setting up her boundaries and immediately saying no to anything the twins want to get her involved with, and quickly they get the hint and leave Willow be.

In other words, there are a LOT of ways, admittedly, that Willow would not have the fondest memories of the twins, if at all- Assuming their mere association with Amity isn’t just triggering for her, which is totally valid. And I can imagine Willow kind of admitting this to Luz after Lost in Language, should her friend ever recount what happened there, and if Willow ever knew Ed and Em or if they were just sort of there in the background to her, and vice-versa. To Willow, that kind of betrayal from Amity would make it incredibly difficult to form new connections, ESPECIALLY what with Ed and Em being Amity’s older siblings; No matter how genuine they could’ve been, she understandably wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with them, if her “Out of sight, out of mind” handling of her trauma with Amity is any indication.

Maybe Willow wouldn’t have appreciated Ed and Em swooping in, as if to take advantage of her loneliness- And/or, she didn’t appreciate being used as a tool to get back at Amity, even if deep-down she had her resentments and grudge that built up over time. For Willow, I think she still has that fondness towards Amity, deep-down… She does seem a little concerned for Amity when the Blight girl is literally losing her mind over losing her Top Student star, which Willow hadn’t even meant to take from her! Although if Ed and Em had set up their plan as a means of helping Amity, of getting her and Willow back together- I could imagine an even younger and more confused Willow going along, because she’s desperate to reconnect. Maybe it could’ve led to Amity being emotionally hurt and realizing Willow had been involved, further creating a divide between them… And it’d all just add to Willow’s inner frustrations that have been building up since then.

So I could imagine Willow warning Luz about the Twins; But on the other hand, she also made sure not to bring up her past with Amity, as a means of preventing Luz and Amity from being friends- So probably not. At the very least she might bring it up out of concern for Luz, and/or concern that the Twins could jeopardize Luz’s relationship with Amity, which she DOES want… And I’d really respect Willow for that. It’s like Eda- Not letting her own past experiences mess with the ones that Luz wants to make, and even putting herself out of her comfort zone to get that missed opportunity for her friend! And speaking of Luz; I imagine Emira and Edric might’ve started paying attention to Willow again, after the Abomination incident at school. They do mention having heard a lot about Luz and how she got Amity into trouble; Either from Amity herself, and/or the general rumors that spread around school- Amity DID lose her mind in front of the entire cafeteria that one time, in addition to the whole Covention incident being literally public.

Knowing the twins, I wouldn’t put it past them to have snooped and investigated into this Luz person, and what Willow would’ve contributed- And they very well may have! They could’ve gained a legitimate interest in Luz, while their old one in Willow’s was relit, because of what the two did to Mittens; Forcing her to ‘learn a lesson’, and realize just how toxic she was being! Of course, Luz and Willow never acted to ‘teach a lesson’ to Amity, and a lot of what happened to her was not their fault, nor was it exactly the most productive way to help Amity along her recovery from indoctrination… Regardless, I can see Emira and Edric seeking out Willow, in the hopes of having her reconnect with Amity; Or at least put a dent in her elitist façade, ideally for her own good.

Then we could have a repeat of what I mentioned earlier- Ed and Em approaching Willow and inviting her into some trouble, but evidently Willow isn’t interested up until Hooty’s Moving Hassle- Where Boscha mocks her for not being invited to Amity’s Moonlight Conjuring. Which, given Willow’s likely negative feelings towards Boscha, would’ve persuaded her to act out at least once in an attempt to ‘get back’ at Amity… But clearly Willow realized it wasn’t worth the effort, and not something she should waste time and energy in, especially if it low-key triggers her. It’s really not out of the question for Emira and Edric to have approached Willow out of curiosity, asking her what happened, maybe inviting her to stick it to Amity- But Willow declined, maybe after giving the spark notes version of her side of the story. Who knows?

It’d be interesting if Emira and Edric tried to relate what they heard from Willow, to Amity- Both to mess with Amity, but also to vouch for Willow, if only to make Amity reconsider the kind of terrible person she’s been becoming thanks to Odalia and Alador. Again, I don’t think Emira and Edric would’ve had much interest in Willow herself and more what she can do for Amity… Which fair, they DO care, but they can clearly get carried away, even when involving a third party. And speaking of one connection to Willow through a person- Maybe Emira and Edric get a bit more curious about Willow because Luz is a fan of her, and they think Luz is the utter bomb and so trust in her judgment –they didn’t bat an eye at the infamous Owl Lady after all- but otherwise I don’t think there would’ve been much to bond over… Amidst all of those OTHER issues I brought up, of course.

Of course, THEN we get the big game changer- We get Understanding Willow. We have Amity forced to confront her past cruelty towards Willow and be honest and upfront, we have Amity forced to low-key admit that she’s being abused, and by recognizing that she’s in a bad situation and avoiding victim-blaming towards herself, Amity can strive to improve, whilst realizing how horrible her parents’ influence has been. I don’t know if Ed and Em knew about what happened, and if they ever learned the full circumstances- But they’d probably see Amity reconnecting with Willow, and hearing about her standing up to Boscha. ESPECIALLY after Amity broke her leg in Grudgby…

And, I think Ed and Em would be utterly elated to see Amity happy again- To see her rekindling with Willow, getting that old joy, reversing the indoctrination their parents unleashed, or at least moving past it… I can see their utter gratitude towards Luz and Amity for this. And, I can imagine them even insisting on getting Willow and Amity together again, trying to accelerate the process for them to rekindle their friendship; Only for that to make both parties uncomfortable. Because while Amity has undoubtedly begun the path of healing with Willow… It’s not something you can rush, and while the twins might think of Willow as good for Amity (amidst ulterior motives of wanting Amity to be less of a rule stickler and not tattle on them so much), they have to remember that Willow doesn’t owe Amity anything- And that’s something Amity herself recognizes.

Honestly, this is making me imagine Emira and Edric playing matchmaker, furiously debating whether or nor they should set Mittens up with Willow or Luz, because either girl makes her happy and could help her recover; And eventually the two settle on Luz, because they recognize the long and sordid past between Willow and Amity, and also they just really like Luz more and she seems to have done the most in helping Mittens. No offense to Willow, and I doubt she honestly FEELS that way towards Amity, anytime soon…Either way, Ed and Em learn to respect Amity’s boundaries more, and do the same with Willow. But THEN comes the Season Finale, and… Really, I can see them wanting to get to know Willow, not just for Amity’s sake, but their own?

There’s what I mentioned earlier about Willow being useful in helping Amity step out of that indoctrination and abuse that Odalia and Alador came up with- Especially since she was able to rally an entire crowd to speak out against a public execution, one ordained by the literal Emperor himself no less! And, Willow succeeded- She made a change, even if Belos claims it was totally the Titan’s will, and maybe it was… But let’s be real here, I think he low-key had to appease the crowd, amidst thinking Eda and Lilith were no longer relevant with the former now magic-less. Emira and Edric have always been rebels and troublemakers… And while I don’t think they’re nearly as morally driven as say Eda or Luz; I think they have a lot to agree on.

After all, it’s the Coven System’s toxic values that really contribute towards their parents being so harsh, and Amity’s expectations to join the Emperor’s Coven led to her misery. Coupled with the Twins possibly not wanting to be forced to join the Illusion Coven, or at least be told what to do… And, I can see them realizing just how messed up Belos’ system and rule is, and recognizing it as a major source for their ills in life. They’re already supportive of Luz, and Luz hates Belos and wanted to save Eda… Amity loves Luz and wants the best for her, clearly the best course of action is to stick around Luz and her friends! Amidst my speculation on how Emira and Edric would feel about a potential rebellion…

I can see them really wanting to know Willow- Again, not just for Amity’s sake, but maybe their own? I feel like Ed and Em are like Eda in that they have this implicit frustration, of rebelling against authorities, and wanting to change things for the better… But their efforts never really went anywhere, nor did they improve anything. I think the twins did a lot in the hopes of recovering Amity, but their attempts weren’t all that productive and just made her feel worse- So seeing Willow, who is so much more efficient and successful at initiating positive change, could be inspiring to them. This Park Girl is a REAL leader, a TRUE rebel unlike the common mischief that Emira and Edric cause- And she’s a chance to really stick it to their parents and the toxic system that enables their abuse.

It could be a chance to be more than what they are, maybe allow Emira and Edric to really explore themselves for once- Or at least trek out a better life for themselves and Mittens, in the long run. I can see them being totally supportive of Willow, even seeing her as a role model to emulate and admire; Kind of like with Luz, I like to imagine Emira and Edric seeing Willow as actually being WAY cooler than either of them, out of their league… And when they approach Willow with friendship, bringing up the Conformatorium Protest? Willow is totally taken aback for a moment, a little shy, maybe a little nervous because these are Blights we’re talking about… But I can see Luz vouching for their characters, and so Willow reluctantly lets them in.

Maybe Emira and Edric want to know Willow more personally because they’re just curious now- I see them as being totally supportive of Willow, perhaps goading her into more rebellious activities, and/or immediately suggesting and offering their support. Just bringing it up, unwarranted, that they’d love to help Willow stick it to the system, that maybe they have a few ideas of their own, or Willow could teach them a thing or two… And Willow, it’s all a bit much for the Park girl. She’s not totally used to being a leader and may not necessarily want to exert that type of influence so readily, either. I can see Ed and Em getting carried away and sort of expecting Willow to be this bold, constantly-rebelling leader…

And Willow, she’s not exactly comfortable with this, and she needs time to breathe. Ed and Em eventually realize they’re sweeping her up into their antics without considering what Willow has to say, that she still has a life and is allowed to take a break between activism. For someone who’s been looked down upon for so long, been at the bottom of the hierarchy so to speak- Having a lot of people look up to her almost expectantly could place a lot of pressure onto Willow. She’s always been expected to fail… So being expected to do great, to do the best, to be someone everyone else aspires towards? I can see this pressure really getting to Willow, as her insecurities come creeping in- And maybe she becomes convinced that this isn’t what she was really meant for, that she really IS meant to be a loser like Boscha claimed, because she could never live up to what others expect of her.

If Emira and Edric were to hear about this- I think they’d be sympathetic to the idea of expectations, given how their parents are like. They’d be aghast that they ever made Willow feel that way, and reassure her that she doesn’t have to be their personal hero- And while I suspect the Twins of being a little clumsy in their reassurances and possibly coming off as harsher than intended… Willow’s got her other friends, too. And, maybe this could serve as a wake-up call to Emira and Edric; That they expect Amity to be just like them, when that can be really difficult… So after seeing just how exhausting this is for someone like Willow, they better appreciate what little Amity manages to accomplish, while still reassuringly encouraging her to do better.

It’d be interesting to see Willow navigate the kind of power and influence that comes from being at the top, as someone that others look up to. Remembering very much not to be like Boscha and not abuse that authority, while also realizing that even if she has a moral obligation to do the right thing- Willow doesn’t necessarily owe it to others to help them on everything, unless that’s what she wants; In which case, more power to her! It’d be an interesting opportunity for Willow to really step into a leadership role, especially if this is the sort of thing where she can self-actualize, an opportunity to realize this is what she wants to be; While also having others like Gus reassure her that Willow can take a break if she needs to. Gus wants to be in a higher grade, but he’s valid in feeling insecure about his younger age and loneliness, too. Even if this IS your dream, it’s okay if it gets a little overwhelming at times.

I’m also imagining Emira and Edric asking Willow for pointers on how to be more like her in that helpful way, and Willow just sort of awkwardly gives out advice, but doesn’t really know what to say- And maybe sees Ed and Em take what she has to say too far, before she needs to intervene and rein them in, set boundaries, etc. Willow could make the point that she’s not someone who tells the twins what to do- She’s not switching out Belos’ leadership for her own, the idea is that everyone should be able to decide for themselves, what to do. Emira and Edric shouldn’t just look to Willow for guidance on who they want to be, although she can’t tell them they shouldn’t be inspired by her on their own terms, either.

But- Willow doesn’t want to tell them what to do, even if it’s for their own good… And I can see Ed and Em taking this lesson to heart and self-reflecting. Maybe while all of this happens, they also touch up again on Amity and Willow’s past together, and they developed a shared solidariy with the girl about a mutual concern for Amity- About having been screwed over by her in the past, while still wanting the best. And so there’s this silent agreement that even if Willow isn’t exactly Amity’s best friend anymore, she’s totally going to intervene if she’s in trouble- So Ed and Em can totally call on her to help if something comes up.

Similarly, Emira and Edric let Willow know that if she ever needs a favor, especially if it’s to stick it to the authorities- They’ll gladly contribute! Not gonna lie, I see them totally play-flirting with Willow the way they did with Luz, and that’s just making me imagine a flustered and embarrassed Willow, it’s adorable… Anyhow, I can also see Emira and Edric’s antics encouraging Willow to be more upfront and unapologetic about who she is, because their character flaws could potentially play into Willow’s by actually helping her in the long run- Telling her that it’s okay to go through with what she has in mind, that she doesn’t have to immediately apologize for it afterwards. There is that other issue I brought up, but…

I think Emira and Edric’s admiration for Willow, could do wonders for her self-esteem. They’d totally reassure her that she IS that cool… And, maybe they could be genuine friends! I don’t think Willow and the Twins have a lot of interests in common besides Be Gay Do Witchcraft- But I can see an unusual friendship forming, and Willow having to be that exasperated Mom Friend to the twins as well. Maybe even getting pulled into their antics involuntarily, just tagging along to make sure they don’t get hurt nor go too far. And it’s healthy for both parties, because now they’re forming more social connectons and building a proper support network.

I could imagine Emira and Edric maybe teasing Willow about being a dork, before it’s clear that their teasing legit makes her feel bad; So they stop. They don’t really understand what she says when Willow goes on her long talks about Plant Magic and its intricacies, but they think it sounds cool regardless! Luz would absolutely love seeing her friends meeting and interacting with one another and encourage it, she’d get involved, I can only imagine how Gus would come into play… Willow would likely be familiar with their Illusions and know a bit as Gus’ friend, because he’d totally infodump to her about his lessons- And Emira and Edric would be totally impressed at how much this Botanist knows of their craft!

Maybe Willow could even inspire the twins to really apply themselves, to really explore their own potential- It’d be an interesting parallel to Eda, who was also incredibly talented and wanted to explore that ability, but never could. It’d contrast with the twins having that talent but just not being interested in it… And maybe they WOULD be, if the school system didn’t make education very uncomfortable for them. Being with Willow could encourage the twins to even explore new tracks, get to know other kids who do that, find a new joy in learning… Etc. I could totally see Willow making Edric some cute plants to take care of, along with a nice flower as a gift for both Twins! Especially if they end up trying their luck at romance again, Willow would totally prepare the most extravagant bouqets for the two!

Not to mention, I can see Emira and Edric being inspired by Willow to be bolder and more upfront about their rebelliousness. To the point where they outright confront their parents over what happened, openly defend Amity… Maybe even run away! I think Willow would be afraid that she made them do something rash, but Ed and Em would insist they’re happier in the long run, that Willow really did do a good thing for them- And she’d totally offer them a safe place at home, assuming the twins won’t room in the Owl House, or find their own home. Willow really tends to underestimate herself, so the twins could show her the positive impact she has on people; And I see her as someone who can be so quiet yet so powerfully reassuring, to any issues the twins themselves may have.

It’d be nice to see them open up to her about issues of identity to Willow, especially since I’ve speculated about Willow having past issues with her own self-image, and about her trauma even turning her into a monster. If the Twins ever open up about Grom, Willow could sympathize with that feeling of rejection and help them navigate it, while probably growing some nice bouqets to make them feel better in the mean-time; Imagine Willow doing a mock-Grom proposal in good faith, offering such extravagant flowers to Emira and Edric to lift their spirits! And they’re just… SO touched by this, even if they clearly don’t feel that way about Willow and vice-versa! Maybe Willow could reassure them that it’s okay to seek out help, that it’s okay to be brave and make new connections; But it’s also just as fine to just want some time off, to be by themselves. I feel these are lessons that Willow quietly learned on her own, and Emira and Edric could really grow to admire Willow for figuring this stuff out.

Maybe Willow could teach the Twins to not take their Grom rejection as a sign that they’re secretly bad- That they’re perfectly valid, that was their dates’ mistake, and don’t let this affect who you think you are! Because sometimes, you really ARE blameless, and it can be kind of scary to admit this because it means you really didn’t deserve what happened- But it also opens the avenue towards really believing in oneself and your ability to heal. There could be a relief to Willow, in providing a guiding voice to others when she herself didn’t have one- Keeping others from going through what she went through alone, because Willow would never wish that on her worst enemy; She DID spare Boscha by not joining the Grudgby team in a sense, amidst probably not being that invested in the sport anyway.

Willow’s a character more concerned with personal growth in recovery, with retribution being uncharacteristic of her and usually ending in disaster- Befitting her Plant motifs. She’s not one to hold grudges because of how toxic and self-destructive they can be, so she could be a firm, no-nonsense voice in telling Ed and Em to not default towards self-loathing if they ever mess up, and instead focus on fixing what went wrong. And it’d teach Ed and Em some humility to see this younger kid know better than them, while putting it into perspective that they don’t exactly always know what’s best for Amity, either- And that anything Mittens has to say can be very valid.

Having these three messed-up kids learn to navigate these issues together, with Luz and Amity and Gus and so many others between them… It’d be heartwarming. I can see Willow and the Twins reassuring one another that they can grow past and be so much more than the image that others expect them to be, that they can overcome that kind of abuse and refuse to let it define them. They could really teach one another to be themselves, to not care what others have to think- That it’s going to be okay, and there IS light at the end of the tunnel! Luz wouldn’t be the only source of hope for these kids… And Emira and Edric, and Willow, could mutually inspire one another after seeing what they went through; And I can see Ed and Em recounting their own abuse, and Willow gaining a new perspective on Amity that she better appreciates, especially in hindsight of her past actions. It doesn’t exactly excuse her, but…

And after seeing Willow become more open and confident, the Twins might follow in her footsteps. There’s a respect towards Willow for having gone through all of that loneliness on her own before meeting Gus and Luz… While not romanticizing it, either. Emira and Edric would offer quiet companionship because they know how much it helped them, and I just really love the idea of the two becoming mischievous older siblings in their own right to Willow! Maybe even annoyingly protective at times… That’d be a hilarious extension of Willow possibly being annoyed by them, back when she and Amity were childhood friends- Now she’s stuck with them, now Willow has to deal with their antics and she can’t escape! And with how Ed and Em approached her… I can totally see Willow learning to be the one to initiate contact and relationships with others in the future, too. And the twins are just totally cheering her on from the sideline alongside Gus and their extravagant Illusions!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house edric #edric blight #the owl house emira #emira blight #speculation

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bessmarvins · 5 years ago

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So, you guys got a preview of this thanks to the challenge that @knockoutqueenoftheunderworld tagged me in. It’s been sitting in my drafts for months almost finished and I think it’s rambly and just ajgwjaoig i’ve been debating on whether or not to even post it but I don’t want to put anymore energy into it. I just want to throw it out into the void lol so here ya are: another chapter of my lil ficlet series (first installment here) ok thank you goodnight happy belated birthday @ladylindaaa

Nancy rubbed her eye, leaning over her case notes on the floor of Frank and Joe’s room in the sleeping car. She twirled a thin lock of her red hair around a long finger and titled her head, staring intently at the letter Lori had given her. She had to squint in the dim light of the bedside lamp, her slightly unkempt brows furrowed. She trailed her pencil across the paper, following every line, silently mouthing the letter word for word.

Frank noticed all of these things. He noticed everything about her. He noticed the pea-sized beauty mark next to her eye, he noticed the chipped maroon polish on her nails, he noticed the way her breath sped up and slowed back down again as she tried to decode the letter. He was trying so hard to stop noticing. He couldn’t help it. Something kept his eyes glued on her, from the moment they met at Union Station.

The truth was he had noticed her long before that. He had always had a crush on Nancy, not that he’d admit it to anyone. Especially not Joe, who caught on fast and teased him mercilessly for it. He was always eager to answer her calls, excited to talk through her cases with her. He loved hearing the awe in her voice when she figured out a clue and the gratefulness in it when he and Joe (somehow) managed to be of help to her.

She was so god damn smart. Frank could hear the gears turning in her mind over the phone. He was convinced she didn’t need him and Joe--she could have called anyone to use as a sounding board for her ideas and figured it out on her own. She usually chose to ask their opinions anyway, and Frank was more than happy to oblige.

But since they met for this case, it’s begun to feel less like just a crush. He and Nancy (and, admittedly, his brother) had formed a sort of bond. They quickly found their rhythm together working the case and Frank thoroughly enjoyed their dynamic. It was exhilarating: their first case with Nancy Drew on an old train chugging along through the Colorado desert.

Maybe being in such a dreamy atmosphere was clouding his mind. The romantic backstory of Jake and Camille certainly didn’t help. But the more time he spent exploring and investigating with Nancy, the more he gravitated toward her.

He was sure she had noticed him staring by now. He could usually keep his cool over the phone, but being here, in person with her, able to see her bright blue eyes, touch her soft arms and smell her perfume when they hugged at the train station...it was wearing him down.

They hadn’t seen each other in two years, their last encounter at Joe’s high school graduation party. He recalled their earlier meetings, in the midst of puberty, when his crush had first formed and he stumbled over his words in front of her. He felt like that 15 year old kid again, stuttering and mumbling around her, begging Joe not to embarrass them. Not much had changed.

In reality, Joe’s antics on this trip were probably charming her more than anything, and Frank was just making things awkward.

Luckily, Nancy was just as excited to work with him-them-as he was to work with her. She was beaming when they met at the train station early that morning. She ran to them with every clue she found on the train, eager to put all of their brains together.

If Frank wasn’t so insecure he’d notice Nancy’s eyes lingering on him more than Joe when the three of them huddled in the dining car. He’d interpret her compliments on his abilities and intelligence as more than just friendly observations of a fellow detective. He’d realize she admired him in more ways than one. Nancy was usually the oblivious one, but for a semi-professional detective, he was being incredibly obtuse.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly being as upfront as she would be about anything else. Nancy was nothing if not blunt, but she couldn’t very well treat Frank like a suspect. She had no issue confronting everyone on this train, but confronting her feelings? That sounded like a nightmare.

She was also all too aware of the ethical reasons she couldn’t, or shouldn’t, tell Frank how she felt. While they weren’t exactly talking at the moment, she knew Ned was waiting for her at home. She knew he’d eventually apologize. She wasn’t even sure what he’d be apologizing for. She was always the one who needed to say sorry.

She hadn’t seen the boy in two years--so what if her crush had resurfaced? Was it worth risking a solid relationship for a fleeting desire? She had something real, something tangible. Frank Hardy was always just a guilty pleasure of her imagination; a fantasy her mind wandered to when she wanted to get out of her own head, out of River Heights.

But wasn’t that the life she craved anyway?

Joe had fallen asleep already, his steady, quiet snoring trailing down from the top bunk. Nancy and Frank sat close on the floor below and kept quiet. Frank was leaning against the bottom bunk he had claimed, Nancy sitting cross-legged a few inches in front of him. The dim light of the lamp on the bedside table shone warm and yellow on Nancy’s skin.

About an hour had gone by without either of them uttering a word, sitting in comfortable silence together. Admittedly, Frank had spent the better half of that hour looking at or thinking about Nancy rather than the case.

“Can you make heads or tails of this?” she asked him, waving Jake’s letter at him. “I thought I cracked part of it but I might just be sleep-deprived.”

Frank yawned and took the paper from her. He stared at the old parchment paper, the fading black script swimming in front of him. Calico, Silverado, blah blah blah...He wiped his hand over his face and handed the letter back.

“Nance, it’s been a long day. I think it’s best to just look at it with a fresh set of eyes in the morning.”

Nancy looked disappointed as she took the letter back. She made no moves to get up, just resumed flipping through her notebook. As tired as Frank was, he didn’t want her to leave, so he pretended to be looking at his own notes and tried not to fall asleep. He rested his head against the bed behind him. His eyes fluttering shut. He’d just rest his eyes for a moment...then he could spend more time with Nancy...

He jolted awake when he heard himself snore. He jerked his head up and looked at Nancy, who wasn’t looking at him, but still immersed in her notes. Thank God, he thought.

He wiped the corner of his mouth surreptitiously, in case, god forbid, he had drooled during his nap. He couldn’t have been out for long, she probably didn’t even notice...

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, smiling slyly as she kept her head down. Frank blushed, admittedly enjoying the sound of that coming out of her mouth.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day, I guess it just..caught up to me. I-”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m probably keeping you awake.”

“Oh, no, I mean, obviously I can fall asleep sitting straight up with you here, so...” He smiled, embarrassed.

“I just...feel a little weird in my room. It’s where Camille used to sleep, apparently, and before you say it,” Nancy looked at him pointedly. He smirked. “No, I don’t believe in ghosts now. But I think John Grey has been pulling tricks to make people think Camille’s spirit’s roaming around here, and I don’t want to be a target.”

“If you say so, Drew. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Joe you’ve suddenly become a believer.”

She shot him another look.

“I do say so. After what Lori pulled on us, who knows what else we’re in for.”

“You have a point,” he conceded.

“I always do.” Nancy smiled playfully, and Frank’s stomach knotted. He was in awe of the way they fell back into this groove every time they worked on a case together. The light teasing, bouncing ideas off one another.

“Plus, Tino said something about ‘going over our notes together,’ which I think means he just wants to see what I’ve found out so far, and I don’t want to be there if or when he knocks on my door. I’d rather just avoid him.”

“What a sleazebag.” Frank scoffed. “He’s been so condescending this whole trip, and he wants to take credit for your work. Let me know if he says anything else. I know Joe is just looking for an excuse to deck him.”

Nancy shook her head. “No no no, Frank, really, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

Frank backtracked. “I know! I was mostly kidding. I-I wasn’t saying you couldn’t, or-”

“Besides, I really don’t want you to get kicked off of this trip.” She put her hand on his tense thigh.

Frank softened immediately. “You’re right. I wouldn’t actually hit the guy, you know. Joe might, though.” Nancy breathed out a laugh.

He kept talking to keep his mind off of her hand on his leg. “You can stay in here as long as you want. I mean...I’ll even sleep on the floor, if you want to take my bunk.”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you!”

“Nancy, please. As you can see, I’ll fall asleep anywhere.”

She stayed silent, reluctant to accept his offer, but inwardly groaning at the thought of sleeping on the floor of a train car.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She smiled graciously.

She scooted over to lean against the bed next to him, her arm dangerously close to his.

“You’re the best.”

Frank cracked a toothy smile and he felt a flutter in his stomach.

“I’m so glad you invited me. I was really excited to hear from you,” Nancy gushed, but instantly cringed, wondering if she was coming on too strong.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Frank’s deep voice and sincere tone sent a shiver down Nancy’s spine.

Their hands, propping them both up on the floor, were nearly touching. Nancy shifted hers so her pinky grazed his thumb.

“You know, I missed you guys, a lot.”

Frank turned to her when she said this to find her facing him, her nose just a few inches from his, her ice blue eyes gazing at him. He had never seen that look on her face before, and he was trying to pin down what it was when she whispered, “Especially you.”

Nancy’s lips curved slightly. She hoped he finally caught on. A girl could only drop so many hints.

Frank thought he might be imagining the signs due to fatigue, but in that moment he didn’t even care if he made a fool of himself. His eyes flitted across her face before determinedly, but slowly, leaning into her, giving her plenty of time to back away. She didn’t.

He hovered a centimetre from her, the end of his nose touching hers. They sat suspended in time, delaying the inevitable. Their eyelids slipped lower. Frank held himself there, thinking that as long as this was all that happened, they weren’t breaking any rules. There was nothing wrong with this. Nancy might have had the same thought. He dared to move a little closer.

Nancy closed her eyes but did not move, allowing Frank to capture her lips in his. Her lips tingled, the sensation traveling down her body, between her legs, down to her toes. Her breath caught.

Once she finally regained control of her body, her lips began to move in sync with his.

Frank’s hand moved up to the side of her face, his fingers tickling her ear and just below her jaw, and another jolt ran through her. She placed a light hand on his chest, noticing his firm muscles below his soft t-shirt.

As the hand on her cheek slipped into her hair, Frank moved his other hand to her waist and leaned further into her. Her skin seared where he touched her. She broke away for a millisecond to breathe a shaky breath before reconnecting with him, leaning further into him, applying more pressure.

Her tongue had just found its way into his mouth when a particularly loud snore from Joe made them jump apart. Nancy’s eyes widened and pointed upwards where the younger Hardy boy rustled.

Frank held his breath until his brother stopped stirring, watching Nancy’s face shift from startled to embarrassed. She blushed, but had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. They caught eyes and awkwardly chuckled.

He felt like he was in high school again, almost caught by his parents on the couch in the basement with a girl. That was usually Joe, though.

Nancy bit her lip and looked at the ground. Frank cleared his throat to break the silence. The moment was gone.

“I think it might be time to get ready for bed,” Frank whispered, gesturing to his brother.

Nancy laughed silently and pushed herself up off the floor, brushing off her soft white shorts.

Frank grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and headed out of the room without a word. Nancy blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sat down on the bed, leaning against the wall and trying one last time to decipher the letter. Anything to avoid thinking about what just happened.

When Frank walked back in a few moments later, Nancy forced her eyes to stay focused on the paper in front of her, but she could feel her face heating up.

Frank shuffled awkwardly, unsure what to do next. Were they supposed to talk about it? Pretend it never happened?

He was just about to ask Nancy to hand him a pillow from the bed so he could make up his sleeping arrangement on the floor when she perked up.

“Wait, I think I figured something out. Look at this,” she beckoned to Frank and he sat next to her on the bed, looking over her shoulder at the letter.

“The oven in the dining car has some symbols on it that I saw on the scale that opened the door to Jake’s projector room. Do you think that’s what he means by a warm place?”

“It definitely could be. Either way, it sounds like the oven is significant.”

She turned over her shoulder and their eyes met. Again, Frank lost all rational thought and fought sleep away, forcing his eyes open as he grabbed his notebook again and leaned into Nancy to continue looking over the letter.

The two of them pored over the notes again in silence, this time on the small twin bed. Frank was suddenly wide awake, alert and aware of every sensation. His temperature rose every time she shifted and their arms touched, but she was clearly unruffled by the whole event. Leave it to Nancy to act like nothing had happened five minutes after the fact.

Eventually, Nancy’s eyes began to droop and her head lolled to the side, hovering above Frank’s shoulder. He shifted so her face met his arm and she could rest on him comfortably. She jumped awake at the contact.

“Ugh, now I’m falling asleep.” She smiled sheepishly at him. He chuckled.

“It’s okay, we can just go to bed and take another look in the morning. It’s late.”

Frank moved to slide off the bed when Nancy timidly grabbed his wrist.

“You don’t...have to sleep on the floor, Frank. I-I mean, it’s so uncomfortable, I don’t want you to be in pain tomorrow.”

Was she implying they could share this small bunk bed? After what had just happened? His stomach was twisting--he wanted desperately to lie down next to her, both for the comfort of an actual bed and the contact it would allow. But that would make things even murkier.

She had a boyfriend. His brother was in the room, just a few feet above them.

Frank turned to her and wished he hadn’t, because it crushed any resolve he had left in him. Her bright blue eyes were glossy with fatigue, and something else. Something he couldn’t say no to.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem...” he said, noncommittally.

She nodded, pulling the blankets down. Swallowing hard, Frank leaned over to turn the dim lamp off and lay on his back next to her, being careful to keep his body as far from hers as possible. Although in this twin bed, even that meant he could feel the static in the space between their arms.

Nancy yawned and turned her head to the side, gazing at the outline of Frank’s profile in the dark. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his face, to trace his hard jawline speckled with stubble. She closed her eyes and tried to just enjoy the weight of his body next to hers. In an instant, she slipped into slumber.

Despite his racing mind and pounding heart, it didn’t take long for Frank to fall asleep either.

Not much later, Frank was awoken by a sudden pressure on his chest. He opened his eyes to a mass of red tresses just under his chin, shining in the moonlight spilling through the room’s small window.

He sighed as he realized his arm had instinctively wrapped around Nancy when she sidled up next to him while they slept, her leg draped over his and her dainty hand gently lain on his collarbone. His heart sped up to the point where he was afraid it would wake her.

Slowly and carefully, Frank shimmied them both deeper under the covers and tried to slide them closer to the wall in an attempt to obscure their sleeping position should Joe wake up.

He told himself he didn’t want to remove Nancy from his chest because he didn’t want to wake her. Any other reasons, he shoved deep down. He closed his eyes tight, willing the guilt away and trying his best to ignore the warm, glowing feeling radiating from his entire body.

After another hour or so, Frank was again awoken, this time by Joe climbing down from the top bunk. Panicked, Frank turned swiftly onto his side, facing the wall, forcing Nancy onto hers and shielding her from sight. She stirred in her sleep, her hand mindlessly rubbing up and down Frank’s abdomen.

Christ. This isn’t helping.

She didn’t wake, even when the door slammed shut behind Joe as he went, presumably, to the bathroom. By the time he came back to the room, Frank’s and Nancy’s legs had tangled further together and Nancy’s hand had slithered up onto Frank’s face, her thumb grazing his cheekbone.

She really moves a lot in her sleep. Frank’s half-conscious mind wandered. She’s probably a blanket hog, and rubs her cold feet on whoever she shares a bed with...Frank could get used to it.

Frank held his breath until he heard his brother lay back down above them, hoping he hadn’t seen the extra mass beneath his blanket. He really didn’t feel like answering Joe’s questions, or being the target of his poorly-veiled jabs in front of Nancy and everyone else for the rest of the train ride.

We’re not doing anything wrong. She needed a place to sleep. Cuddling up next to a warm body is a reflex, it just happens. We weren’t even conscious. The excuses rolled through his head on a conveyor belt. He tried not to think of whom Nancy usually cuddled with, hogged blankets from and bothered with her cold feet. He again fell into a comfortable sleep.

Frank would have been annoyed at being woken up for a third time that night, had it been anyone else. When he opened his eyes, Nancy was crawling over him, her long legs stretching carefully to avoid stepping on him. She gracefully slid onto the floor and adjusted her shorts.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told Frank it was 6 AM--there was no way Joe was up yet. Nancy tiptoed toward the door and slowly slid it open. When she turned around to close it she locked eyes with Frank, realizing he was awake.

He felt embarrassed that he was caught watching her, but she grinned at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, like there was a secret between them. He realized the look in her eyes was the one he’d seen last night. Her gaze lingered on him a moment as he rubbed the sleep from his eye and smiled back. She slid the door shut and Frank dropped his head back onto the pillow, still feeling her warmth on the mattress next to him.

Nancy strolled back to her own room in the quiet of the morning, soft blue light flooding the train car. Too disoriented to recognize any potential consequences, she couldn’t stop smiling.

#TRN #fanfic #mine #last train to blue moon canyon #francy alert #FRANCY #frank x nancy #nancy drew #nancy drew video games #nancy drew books #fanfiction #the next one will be better maybe probably idk

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sapphirestarxx · 5 years ago

Text

Through the Night

Chapter 7

Also posted on my AO3!

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~☆~

Kagome groaned as she awoke, already wishing she was back asleep again. Waking up was a mistake. Drinking as much as she had last night had been a mistake. She couldn’t even remember how much alcohol she had had...she was scared to see the bill she had run up at the club. Speaking of remembering, she couldn’t even really remember last night either. It was all kind of a vague blur.

Opening her eyes was a decision she immediately regretted and she was unable to control her wince. She stared at the ceiling and it felt like the room was spinning. It was so bright. The blinds...she needed to close the blinds. But that meant she had to get out of bed and the thought of moving made her stomach heave. Oh God, she felt awful. Her mouth and throat were so dry she could barely swallow and suddenly the need for water was all-consuming. Forcing her eyes open again she blinked against the light of morning and she became aware of the fact that she wasn’t alone in her bedroom.

“Hey.” Inuyasha greeted her and she rolled over to the sound of his voice. He was watching her intently with his bright gold eyes, sitting at the side of her bed. What was he doing in her room while she slept? She tried to remember. The last thing she recalled was being incredibly pissed at him. Opening her mouth she tried to ask him what the hell he was doing there but all that came out was a croak. She was so damn thirsty. Her head hurt so bad. This had to be the worst hangover she had ever had.

Sitting up she grabbed at the glass of the water that was blessedly sitting on her nightstand and downed it all in one go. The cool liquid felt so good on her parched throat but the movement of sitting up had her stomach heaving again. She gagged, covering her mouth with a hand.

“Don’t feel so good, huh?” Inuyasha observed.

Kagome was sure he was speaking in a normal tone of voice but it sounded so loud to her ears. Everything was too much. She felt like death. This was all his fault, she decided. If he hadn’t gotten her so mad and then left without telling her she would never have drank herself into such a stupor. She turned a glare on him.

He didn’t look impressed but she imagined she probably didn’t cut a very intimidating figure at the moment. She didn’t care. She may not remember much of the night but she certainly remembered everything leading up to it.

“Why are you in my bedroom?” She finally managed.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Obviously not.”

He sighed and looked torn between relief and disappointment.

“I figured that would be the case.” He said after a moment.

“You should probably leave. I bet I’m looking extra ugly right now.”

“Are you still mad about that??”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I apologized already!”

“Well I don’t remember it.”

“How is that my fault??!”

“This whole thing is your fault. Also if you’re going to raise your voice please leave...my head hurts so bad.” That last part came out more pitifully than she intended.

He huffed and crossed his arms but didn’t leave. “Fine. I’m sorry. Again. Alright? I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

“Right. You sound real sorry.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Please just go.”

“Well you weren’t so interested in getting me to go last night when you begged me to stay with you.”

Kagome froze at that, blushing, and her heart started beating faster from the anxiety those words caused. Oh God, what had she done last night?? Bits and pieces were starting to come back to her but when she tried to think too hard about the flashes of memory a sharp pain split through her head. Ughh.

“When I what??”

“That’s right, you heard me. You grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let me leave you.” He smirked as if her embarrassment was a victory for him. Asshole.

“W-well...I was obviously really drunk so you don’t have to worry about forcing yourself to stay with me anymore. I’m sober now so it’s fine. You can leave my useless ugly self in the care of Sango. I can call her and get her to take over looking after my safety.”

“I said I was sorry and that I. Didn’t. Mean. Any. Of. It!!” Inuyasha’s already short patience was wearing thin at this back and forth thing they had going. He had known she would likely be pissed again at him but this was ridiculous. How many fucking times did he have to apologize?

“Just because you didn’t mean it, doesn’t mean you didn’t say it.” She replied stubbornly. “You can’t take it back. That means that some part of you still thought it. So you can just forget anything that happened last night; I’m sorry I came onto you, but that’s obviously something you’d never even consider anyway. I don’t want you here out of guilt or pity."

“Fine! You’re being fucking impossible right now. And no, I’m not giving your care over to Sango so stop sayin’ that!”

Kagome opened her mouth to argue back but she retched instead and covered her mouth with her hands, trying not to throw up. This day was already sucking.

“Talk to me when you’re being reasonable!” Inuyasha snapped before leaving out of her window. He felt bad barking at her when she looked like she was going to be sick but talking to her right now was pointless. And she was pissing him off. Again.

Clearly she remembered nothing at all and worse, she wanted him to forget all of it. He couldn’t do that. Refused to do so. Even if she had been drunk at the time, she had expressed affection for him and pleaded with him to be with her. Stay with her. So he had. And here she thought it was out of fucking pity. Shit, why wouldn’t she just accept his apology and move on? Why was it always his fault?

Kagome watched his exit with regretful eyes and got her stomach back under control. Not being able to remember anything that was said or done last night coupled with her awful hangover had put her in a foul mood. She knew she was being stubborn and a little petty. Maybe Inuyasha had apologized but she hadn’t been ready to hear it. She was deeply hurt by his words.

Even so, it appeared he had brought her home and taken care of her, putting up with her ridiculous drunk requests when he hadn’t had to. Surely that meant something? She would talk to him later when her head stopped pounding. For the time being she was going to lay in bed some more, at least until the room decided to stop spinning and she didn’t feel the urge to throw up anymore. Possibly take a cleansing bath to clear her head, and then she could fix things between her and Inuyasha.

~☆~

Sango had three thoughts upon awakening: 1. No, just no, 2. Water, and 3. Oh God, oh God, what did I do last night??

The whole night was starting to come back to her as she laid in Miroku’s bed and tried to get her head to stop pounding. She was pretty sure the ceiling shouldn’t be spinning. Soon the need for water became too much and she forced herself to sit up. There was a full glass of water sitting on the nightstand and she vaguely remembered Miroku leaving it there for her. Bless that man.

Miroku. She couldn’t stop the cringe and blush as she remembered everything she had done and said last night. How was she going to face him? Maybe she could just lie back down and wait for herself to die of the embarrassment that was surely going to kill her.

Logically, she knew she couldn’t lie there all day. She had to get up at some point and when she did, Miroku would be outside the door and she would have to see him. Remembering the things she had told him, basically confessing the feelings she had tried so hard to keep to herself...it made her want to crawl into a hole. But that was nothing compared to when she had practically wrapped herself around him while half naked and had begged him, begged him, to sleep with her. That made her want to die. She covered her face with her hands.

There was only one thing she could do. Pretend she didn’t remember anything.

She didn’t know how long she laid there but it was long enough for the room to stop moving and her head to stop aching so much. Crawling out from under the covers she saw her bare legs and cringed again at the memory of the way she had walked up to him in nothing but his shirt. She also remembered the way he had looked at her, like he couldn’t believe his eyes, the heat and desire in them for her. And the way he had tried so hard to be a gentleman despite the way she had kept throwing herself at him.

Yeah, she was definitely pretending she didn’t remember anything.

Putting on the sweatpants she had foregone last night she finally ventured out the door. She needed to stop acting so nervous or she was going to give herself away. Once she felt she had herself and her face under control, she walked out into the living room. The beating of her heart at the sight of Miroku sitting on the couch wasn’t something she could possibly control, though. It was a struggle to keep her breathing even.

He looked up at her entrance and smiled. She tried to decipher what kind of smile it was then mentally shook herself. Overanalyzing his actions was not going to do her any good and would only make her more obvious.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” He greeted her.

“Like death.” She answered honestly.

“I bet.” He laughed. “How much do you remember of last night?”

“Nothing.” She replied a little too quickly and he looked at her closely. She swallowed nervously.

“Really?”

“Y-yeah.” She stammered out.

“So you don’t remember begging me to sleep with you?”

Oh God, oh God!!! He had brought it up. No, no, no, no. She should have expected this considering this was Miroku she was speaking to. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? Her control vanished as her face flushed and her eyes widened. For a moment she couldn’t make her mouth work and she just stared at him dumbly.

“You don’t mind if I put on some music do you?” He asked her, with a gleam in his eyes. Before she could respond he started playing Into You by Ariana Grande on his bluetooth speaker. Then he turned around to gauge her reaction.

Although the music wasn’t very loud the sound still rang sharply through her head and she grimaced. Ugh. The memories of the way she had pressed herself into him as she danced with him and sang the lyrics of the chorus to him surfaced in her mind. And her telling him that yes she was very into him. Between her humiliation and the headache she wondered if he was trying to kill her. Her face was burning and she still couldn’t find her voice to speak.

“I-I what?” She finally managed to ask.

“This isn’t ringing any bells?” Miroku returned.

“Wh-why would it?” Sango lied.

Miroku knew it was probably a little mean to be messing with her like this but she was definitely lying and he couldn’t help but poke at her a bit. Of course, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to admit remembering. He imagined she had to be dying inside of embarrassment from her actions and the things she had let slip. He had thought she was adorable, although holding himself back from throwing her against the wall and having his way with her after the way she had begged him was probably one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Still, she had revealed a lot of things she probably hadn’t been ready for him to hear. Or admit to herself. It was only natural that she would try to backpedal the whole situation. Miroku wasn’t about to let her do it without a fight, though.

“You can rest assured your modesty stayed intact. Well, mostly. It was hard turning you down, though.” Miroku winked at her.

Of course, Sango remembered the whole thing, the way he had held back and the way she had almost cried at his seeming rejection. Mortifying didn’t begin to cover it. But she was committed to acting like she didn’t remember anything despite the fact that she had a feeling Miroku knew she was lying. The man was way too good at reading people.

“O-oh. I’m surprised you let such a golden opportunity slip through your fingers.” She tried to joke but it came out lamely.

“Oh it was beyond tempting. But I would never take advantage of you; I care about you too much. And anyways, I can wait ‘til you come to me sober.” Miroku replied honestly, saying the last part teasingly.

Sango breathed a sigh of relief that he had seemed to finally drop the topic of her remembering last night. Even though she definitely recalled him saying something similar the previous night she was still a little touched at his words. She was sure saying no to her had probably been very difficult for him.

“Thank you.” She said sincerely, taking his hand before she could think better of it. He gave it a squeeze, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

“No thanks are needed. I did what any decent guy would do.” He gave a half smile. “Besides, I got to have a beautiful woman in my bed, even if I couldn’t share it with her. Not yet, anyways.”

Sango didn’t know what possessed her, or maybe she was still drunk from last night. But something compelled her to pull him to her with the grip she had on his hand and she kissed him.

Her lips pressed against his and they were as soft as she had imagined and much better than anything she had dreamed. She allowed herself one moment to revel in the feel of warmth spreading through her at the contact before pulling away. It was a quick press of lips that ended in the space between one breath and the next, giving Miroku no time at all to respond until it was already over.

The sound of her heart pounding echoed in her ears as she looked into his face and saw him looking at her in shock. And then it shifted to something else much more dangerous and heated. She tried to let go of his hand but he wouldn't release it. Her breath came faster as he started to pull her closer again.

"M-Miroku…"

"You're the one who kissed me."

"That...that was a thank you. D-don't let it go to your head!" The excuse sounded lame even to her own ears.

"Too late."

Although he wasn’t letting go of her hand she knew if she really wanted to she could pull away. He wouldn’t force anything on her that she didn’t want. And that was the problem-- she wanted him to kiss her-- but it would complicate things more than they already were. Maybe it was the release of all her pent up feelings last night or the way he had taken care of her when she was a drunken mess but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

Just as his lips were about to touch hers again his phone rang. Sango jerked as if coming back to reality and Miroku cursed the timing.

“You should probably get that!” Sango said in a rush before making some excuse about needing to take a shower and scurrying off. Dammit. He had been so close.

Miroku picked up his phone and saw it was his uncle calling.

“What is it?” He asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice at the interruption.

“Miroku! Boy, is that any way to speak to your uncle?” Mushin admonished from the other end of the line.

He closed his eyes, exhaling. His uncle was right; it wasn’t fair to take his frustration out on him. There was no way Mushin could have known what had been about to occur between him and Sango.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. Your call just came at an inopportune time.” He apologized. “What is it?”

“That’s better.” Mushin said, appearing to be mollified. “I called because I have some more information on that thing you came to speak to me about three weeks ago.”

“You mean the spellbook and the runes?” Miroku responded. His mind instantly shifted gears at his uncle's words.

"No, no, the other thing. Although I suppose they're connected. That dark priestess you told me about, Tsubaki was it?"

"Uncle, that was two weeks ago, not three, and that was a phone call."

"Oh, was it?"

"Have you been drinking again?"

"Only a few cups. I acquired some premium sake yesterday and it is simply divine."

Miroku would have made a comment about how it was eleven in the morning but that would have been pointless. Any time of day was good enough for drinking according to Mushin.

"Alright, what do you know about Tsubaki?"

"Not much more than you already do, but I found out the name of the shrine she belonged to before she went rogue and was shunned. It's in the next town over, called the Shikon Shrine. Lady Kaede is the Head Priestess there and she may have more information for you regarding Tsubaki. I spoke with her and told her to possibly expect a visit from you."

Well, that was something. Maybe this Lady Kaede could give some insight into Tsubaki. Anything was better than nothing at this point. They had nothing to go on currently as far as finding her.

"Thank you, Uncle. That visit definitely won't be today, though." Miroku said.

"Got something better to do?" Mushin inquired archly.

"Our two lovely ladies are currently nursing hangovers from last night." Miroku replied dryly.

"Ohoho, women after my own heart." Mushin chuckled in approval.

After a couple more exchanges Miroku ended the call and pulled out his laptop, sitting back down on the couch. He decided to look into it while Sango showered.

~☆~

Sango took her time in the shower and used it to think. Miroku had been about to kiss her and she had run away like an idiot. Honestly, the only person complicating things between them was her. She was the one being ridiculous and trying to deny her feelings and she didn't even know why anymore. There were no more good excuses. She needed to be honest about her feelings and what she wanted. It wasn't fair to Miroku, but more importantly, she owed it to herself.

At first it had been easy to write him off-- he was a flirt and she was just his latest conquest. All his comments about her appearance and body had helped support her theory, but the more time they spent together the more it became clear he also cared about her as a person. Between saving her life, putting up with her drunkenness last night, and a multitude of other things he had proven himself many times over to be worthy of her trust. It was time to finally be real and honest about what she wanted-- him. She wanted to be with him, in every sense of the word.

Although the shower was helping, her head was still aching. Ugh, she had let Kagome talk her into way too many shots last night and this was a conversation she wanted to have with a clear head. It was too important. She decided she would talk to him about everything tomorrow.

Just the thought of doing so was giving her anxiety and making her feel shy, which was crazy because she was sure he cared about her in the same ways. She didn’t know the full extent of his feelings for her but it wasn’t like she had to worry about being rejected. But talking about her feelings, particularly with the object of those feelings, was difficult for her. Still, she wanted to take this seriously.

Several minutes later she was dried off and dressed in some leggings and a fitted pink long-sleeved t-shirt. She walked out to the living room to see Miroku on the couch on his laptop. He looked up at her entrance. After a few moments he placed the laptop to the side and stood up, walking over to where she was standing. She hadn’t even realized she had frozen in place at the sight of him until he was standing in front of her.

“Uhm.” She said intelligently.

“So that was my uncle on the phone.” Miroku told her. He was looking at her way too closely and she swallowed nervously.

“Oh? What did he say?”

Miroku told her the conversation he had had with his Uncle Mushin and she was silent in thought.

“Yeah, we’ll have to go pay Lady Kaede a visit. Definitely not today, though.” Sango finally said, wincing again at another stabbing pain in her head. Ugh, she just wanted to lay down.

“I told him as much.” Miroku said, but he didn’t move from where he was standing. When she said nothing else he spoke again. “So, you kissed me.”

Her eyes flew to his face at those words. She knew she should say something but words escaped her.

“You said it was a thank you, but something tells me you don’t thank all your friends by kissing them.” Miroku continued when she said nothing.

“Uhm. I don’t.” Sango managed to reply.

“Sango, why did you really kiss me?”

She couldn’t blame him for asking but this conversation wasn’t one she wanted to have at the moment. She was still nauseous and she needed to take some ibuprofen for her headache because it was killing her. At the same time she didn’t want to lie about her feelings to him anymore, not after she had just resolved to be honest about them.

“Miroku, I…I actually really want to talk to you about that. Well, about everything. I-- I remember everything about last night.” She admitted and he raised his eyebrows at her admission. “But my head is killing me and all I want to do is lie down right now. Unless there’s a demon to fight, I don’t want to move at all. And this isn’t a conversation I want to have with you when I feel so awful. It’s too important. At least, it is to me. There’s...there’s a lot of things I want to say to you but please, can it wait until tomorrow?”

She looked at him almost nervously after her little speech and he looked surprised but there was a small smile playing across his lips at her words. A very knowing smile.

“That’s fine. On one condition.”

“Wh-what’s the condition?”

In answer he pulled her to him and kissed her, wrapping one arm around her waist while burying a hand in her hair. His lips moved against hers, firm but not too demanding, as he held her against him. To say she was surprised would be an understatement but she softened in his arms.

Her heart was racing and she could scarcely breathe as he kissed her senseless. Wrapping her arms around him in response, she held onto him as her knees went slightly weak and warmth bloomed in her chest at the slow and very thorough way his lips took hers. After several long moments he pulled away, capturing her bottom lip gently between his teeth before releasing it with one final kiss.

Her cheeks were flushed and she was panting a little as she continued to hold onto him. It took several breaths before she was positive her legs would support her again. He looked into her eyes and seemed satisfied with what he saw.

"Okay. Now we can wait until tomorrow."

“Oh.” She said, staring up at him.

“Oh?”

“It’s weird but it’s almost like I felt better when you were kissing me.” She said before she thought better of it. She blamed the way he had totally removed all the sense from her body with that kiss.

He chuckled a little bit at that, clearly trying to fight a grin. “If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to be of assistance. I’m very okay with doing this all day.”

She blushed at that and pushed him away.

“Th-that’s not necessary!” She stammered. As tempting as that sounded she needed to rest and she wanted to have their talk before allowing anything further to happen between them. “Tomorrow!” She insisted.

“Alright, alright. Tomorrow.” He agreed. They released each other and he gave her a quick peck on the forehead. “Now go get some rest, my dear Sango.”

“Mm. That’s the plan.”

He went back to the couch and she got some ibuprofen from his medicine cabinet before returning to his bedroom and laying back down. Despite the way her head was pounding she felt oddly...happy and warmed from the inside out. They weren’t together-- not yet. But hopefully soon they could talk about whatever this was between them, once she slept off this awful hangover. Eventually the pills kicked in easing her headache and she managed to drift off to sleep again.

~☆~

Kagome finished her bath in the shrine’s cleansing pool and felt a million times better. She no longer felt the urge to vomit nor did her head threaten to kill her with the pounding headache pulsing at her temples anymore. The bath had been a good decision. It had helped to not only purify her physically but mentally as well.

All the events of the previous night had come back to her and she had a lot of conflicting feelings regarding it. The things she had done, the things she had said...to say she was nervous and embarrassed about facing Inuyasha would be putting it mildly. Oh God, the things she had done. He had hinted she had come on to him but she had had no idea exactly how...forward she had been. While it was true she could play it off as something she had done only because she was drunk, well...Inuyasha had told her he could smell lies. He would know the truth in an instant.

The last thing she had expected last night was for Inuyasha to have shown up at the club to take her home, although in retrospect she supposed she should have. It was just the sort of the bullheaded move for him to pull. And the way she had danced on him, hanging onto him, the things she had said...she cringed. Well, it was fine. She would get past the awkwardness somehow. Afterall, they still had to work together and he still had to protect her.

She was embarrassed at not only the things she had said and done but at the very immature way she had handled this morning. Inuyasha’s apology, while a little more rough than most, had been sincere and was among the many memories to come back to her. Of course, she had been hurt but it was time to clear the air between her and the dog demon.

She wrapped her yukata around herself and then the towel over that since the chill in the air was more present as autumn was now in full force. Shivering a little bit as she walked across the grounds, Kagome then entered the main residence again and dressed in clothing more appropriate for the season. She pulled on her most comfortable pair of jeans and a nice cream-colored sweater, then considered drying her hair before going in search of Inuyasha. In the end she decided against it; she wanted to speak to him as soon as possible.

While she probably should decide what she was going to say before she went looking for him, there was a sense of urgency dictating her actions. The need to fix things and reestablish the way things had been before was too important. She didn’t like how strained things were with them right now. It would be nice if last night had changed things between them for the better but she harbored no illusions on that front.

The idea of just continuing to act like she remembered nothing flitted through her mind briefly but she quickly discarded that thought. Now that all her memories were restored she was bound to let something slip, not to mention it would surely be obvious from the nervous way she would be acting and then he would ask about it. Might as well get everything out in the open so they could put this whole thing behind them.

Walking back outside she headed around back towards where the forest lay. She had no idea where he was but something told her he may have retreated to someplace more familiar to him after their fight this morning.

“Inuyasha!!” She called out, hoping he would hear and come.

After a couple minutes he appeared in front of her, dropping down from one of the trees at the edge of the forest. She felt absurdly pleased that she had been correct in her assumptions. With all the time they had been spending together it seemed she was getting to know him quite well.

“What?” He asked, giving her a look that was a mix between hostile and cautious, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Uhm.” Kagome said. She really should have planned this out before seeking him out. “Inuyasha, I’m...I’m sorry.”

At those words his demeanor relaxed and he uncrossed his arms.

“I don’t have to apologize again, do I?”

“No, no...I’m really sorry for the way I handled this morning. But, I was really hurt by your words yesterday, and the way you just left me without even saying anything.”

“Listen, words aren’t exactly my strong suit. Sometimes I say stuff without thinking, but let’s be clear about one thing-- protecting you may be my assigned duty but as crazy as it sounds I actually like being around you. I’m staying with you, got that? Not Sango.”

Kagome blushed at his words and she tried not to let her mind run away with all the possible meanings they conjured up. Could he possibly…?

She tried clearing her throat that suddenly swelled with anxiety caused by the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. If she was honest with herself, she had never grown so attached to a boy like this before. She hadn’t had the time or freedom. Her sworn duty was to her shrine. As embarrassing as it was, that was the main reason she was twenty three and still a virgin. Also the main reason she tried to live so vicariously through Sango (not that her love life was any better than Kagome's). She loved her best friend and thought that she could ultimately plan a happy ever after for her, even if Kagome herself may never get one.

The words she wanted to say wouldn’t come though. How does someone clear the air about saying such heartfelt things the night before? Especially when it was likely he didn’t feel the same. He had admitted yes, he liked to be around her. Not that he liked her. He didn’t have many friends; that much was obvious. She needed to try and keep that perspective; he was a half demon. He wouldn’t want anything more from her than friendship. That was hard to swallow but…

“So, about last night,” she finally started. Was she sweating? Trembling? “About uhm… what I said. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I know I drank way too much and wasn’t in my right mind. We can just forget it. I--I didn’t want Sango to take over your duty. I really appreciate you staying and wanting to be with me.”

There was a glint of hurt that showed through his amber eyes but he then covered it quickly with his trademark scowl. Why would he be hurt by what she said? Had she phrased it incorrectly?

Inuyasha did his best to not let the disappointment at her response show through. What had he expected? He was a half demon and she was a priestess. Obviously everything she had done and said last night had just been because of the alcohol, not because that’s how she really felt. Even though he already knew that, some part of him had been hoping otherwise. Well, whatever.

“If that’s what you want.” He finally replied gruffly.

She looked confused at that. Why? She had been very fucking clear that anything that had happened between them was to be forgotten and didn’t mean anything. While she had said it in a very polite and nice way the meaning was still the same.

"Did I say something wrong?" She asked uncertainly.

"No, you said it just fine. Don't worry, I understood you perfectly."

“Then why--” Kagome started to say, but she abruptly cut off at the sudden overwhelming aura that slammed into her senses. She looked around then back at Inuyasha in alarm to make sure he felt it too. One look told her that he definitely had.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I-- I don’t know. It’s definitely demonic, but it’s…Inuyasha, I think whatever this is, it may be worse than that spider demon we faced. And I can sense another rune. Maybe multiple.”

“Seriously? As in more than one?” He sniffed the air as if trying to answer his own question.

“Yeah, it’s way too strong to be just one. Although it feels slightly off. Whatever dark magic Tsubaki is working it’s huge. If it is Tsubaki.” Kagome responded, already trying to zero in on the location this was all coming from. She didn’t know if she was annoyed or relieved at the interruption to her and Inuyasha’s conversation. It wasn’t going quite the way she had hoped so maybe it was for the best.

“What do you mean 'if it is Tsubaki?'”

“It feels the same but slightly off. It doesn’t quite match up to her magical signature, but the sense of the runes and dark spells they feed into are definitely the same.”

"Well whoever it is we need to hunt them down. This means bad news."

“I’m not looking forward to what we’re going to find. We also need to call Miroku and Sango, although I’d be surprised if they haven’t sensed it themselves. The feeling is so strong.”

“Yeah this aint good. We need to get movin’ as soon as we can.”

“Right. Just let me give them a call so we can meet up.”

With that Kagome called up Sango and when she didn’t answer she called Miroku. He told her he would be there with Sango soon.

~☆~

After getting off the phone with Kagome, Miroku reluctantly went to go wake Sango up. She had been asleep for the past four hours and he hoped that was enough because it was going to have to be.

The last thing he had expected earlier was for her to be so completely honest with him about her feelings. When she had told him she had a lot of things she wanted to tell him, and more importantly, that she actually did remember everything about last night, he had been shocked. And delighted. Then he had kissed her and she had not only let him, but welcomed it. He suspected he knew what she wanted to tell him tomorrow and he figured he could wait one more day. Assuming he was correct about her feelings, and after that kiss he was pretty sure he was.

He opened the door to his bedroom and paused in the doorway for a moment to take in her sleeping form. She was simultaneously the cutest and sexiest woman he had ever met. It was a shame he had to disturb her slumber but duty was calling. Walking over to where she slept he gently shook her shoulder, saying her name softly. Sango came awake and saw him then sighed.

“I thought I said I just wanted to lay down unless there was a demon to fight. Why are you waking me up?” She asked grumpily.

“Unfortunately, it appears that there is, in fact, a demon to fight. I’m sure you can sense it, too. I’m sorry.”

At those words Sango became more alert and focused her senses, and she could feel it too. She sat up and threw back the covers.

“What is that huge aura? It’s demonic but something is off. And it’s so overwhelming.”

“I know. I’m not sure, myself.”

Sango stood up and went to grab her bag that had her slayer outfit. When she turned around she saw Miroku was still standing there.

“Uhm. I need to change into my slayer gear.”

“Yeah, you better do that.”

“Then leave so I can get dressed!”

“And to think last night you were so eager to strip in front of me.”

Sango blushed at that and looked like she wanted to cause him physical harm. Miroku just smirked.

“I was drunk! Get out!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” He said, laughing.

Sango glared after him halfheartedly. He was pushing his luck, probably because he knew he could get away with it now after what she had revealed regarding her feelings for him. And how she had let him kiss her. He was shameless. And like an idiot she had fallen for him. She sighed.

Although Sango would have liked to have slept a few more hours she was definitely feeling much better than before. Her head wasn’t aching nearly as much anymore and her nausea had almost completely disappeared. These weren’t ideal conditions to be fighting in but she had done this to herself so it was what it was. She would manage somehow, plus the adrenaline from battle would help to clear her head.

Once she was dressed she exited his bedroom and found him waiting by the front door, already ready. She walked over to where her Hiraikotsu was resting against the wall, hoisted it across her back, double checked her blades, then walked to the door where he stood.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

~☆~

A little over an hour later all four of them had traced the feeling of the demonic aura and runes. It had led them to the outskirts of the city, at an abandoned shrine. It wasn’t exactly a ruin but it had certainly seen better days, judging by the outside appearance of the structure.

It was in a dilapidated state of repair and the shadows from the setting sun that were cast upon the building only helped to add to the ominous effect the place gave off. The black and white paint was chipped in so many spots that they almost resembled a mosaic. It looked sinister, although that may be partly from the immense evil they all felt emanating from within. Whatever lay inside was something terrible.

None of them said anything as they approached the entrance. All of them knew what they faced tonight would likely push them all to their limits. They were all prepared for that. Entering, everything appeared dark until one by one candles began lighting along the ceiling until they reached the back where a woman was standing in front of an altar.

She basked in the illumination, her back to them as if unconcerned by their presence. Spaced across the back wall where she stood were several of the runes, each one drawn in blood. The source of the blood became evident if one looked to the floor where a body lay beneath each mark. At first glance they appeared dead, but closer inspection showed they still drew breath, if only barely.

“I wondered if you all would come.” The woman said almost conversationally. She turned around and her dark eyes flashed in the candlelight while her long, wavy blonde hair shone brightly.

“Who the fuck are you?” Inuyasha demanded.

Miroku thought the more important question was to wonder where the huge demonic aura was coming from. As far as they could all see the room was empty save for them, the strangely docile captives beneath the runes, and the mysterious woman.

As the woman stepped forward Miroku got a glimpse of a large mirror placed upon the altar. It seemed to pulse as he looked at it. That couldn’t be good.

“That’s a little bit rude, don’t you think? Still, I was raised with manners. My name is Ayaka. I am Tsubaki’s apprentice.” She said. “There’s no need for you to make introductions.”

“And why is that?” Sango asked, her eyes seemingly on Ayaka but also canvassing their surroundings. Why did this almost feel like a set up? This woman was far too calm considering there was one of her and four of them. The answer became apparent soon enough.

“Because you’ll all be dead or comatose soon, fighting versions of yourself.”

The light of the candles flared at her pronouncement and the rest of the room was lit up, revealing four large floor-length mirrors. There were two mirrors on the left wall and two on the right wall. Almost reflexively they all turned to gaze upon the mirrors and Ayaka chanted a spell, throwing something into a bowl upon the altar. It activated her dark spell and all four of them were drawn into a separate looking glass, swallowed up in their own personal hell.

#Inuyasha fanfiction #MirSan #Miroku x Sango #InuKag #Inuyasha x Kagome #MiroSan #SanMir #Through the Night #some fluff some misunderstandings and some plot development in this chapter~#next chapter things get intense!!

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justwritethatdown · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter3

I apologise for taking so long to post chapter 3, but this story is pretty personal to me and I didn't think it would have been so hard for me to write it honestly.

→ MASTERPOST

During the two weeks’ vacation in Florida, Beca and Chloe really meet each other and get a lot closer. Beca has to deal with Aubrey and some other known faces, along with new ones, which causes her a lot of social anxiety. This chapter is accompanied by various old songs so it’s a bit of a throwback (:

Words Count: 8.9K

Rating: T

Warnings: Underage smoking, drinking and mention of sex

Read it on AO3 or under the cut ↓

Summer after high school (When we first met)

1st of July 2010

As soon as they arrived to the hotel Beca wanted to go back home. Aubrey was already getting on her nerves, bitching about how much she hated the place. Like if Aubrey wasn’t enough already, Chloe had brought with her Tom and Stacie, so the group was now formed by four people other than her and Chloe – way too many for Beca’s liking – and on top of everything, the other guy of their group was super creepy and started hitting on her in the most disgusting way.

“Bumper leave her alone, she’s off limits” intimated to him Chloe and Beca smiled at her thankfully.

“This place sucks! There’s literally nothing here!” kept dramatically complaining the blonde.

“Why didn’t we go to Miami as always?” wined Stacie.

“Apparently this shithole is the only place Sheila’s new husband could afford" answered Aubrey with disgust “oh- sorry" she fake-apologized to Beca, Chloe glared at her but didn’t say anything.

Beca wasn’t quick enough to think about a comeback that Bumper added “It’s incredible how they could find the only place in Florida with nothing to do! Why do they hate us so much?”

Beca was actually glad there wasn’t much to do and, even if she planned to stay in her room the whole time, avoiding as much as possible socializing, she had to admit the place was nice; the beach looked amazing and it was right in front of their hotel, which had a swimming pool and a spa too, so she didn’t really know what the others were complaining about.

“I hope I will find some chicks anyway" she heard Bumper say.

“As if anyone would date you” dismissed him Aubrey.

“Who talked about dating?” he retorted.

“You’re so gross" hissed the blonde.

“Aw Aubrey, I know you only say that because you’re jealous” he lamented “but you know I see you as a sister... unless...” he trailed off and Aubrey almost gagged at that.

“in your dreams".

__Sometimes I get so weird, I even freak myself out

After leaving their things in the respective rooms and freshening up Beca was forced to go to the beach with her father and Sheila.

“Once we’ve figured out the place, you will be allowed to go around on your own" he explained.

“Dad, the beach is literally on the other side of the street" she complained.

Beca didn’t bother to put on a swimming suit since she was sure she would have been back in her hotel room right away to work on her mix – she was wrong.

They got on the beach and walked to their assigned spot, where they had two sunbeds and a sunshade.

“okay, can I go now?” she asked impatiently

“Honey, why don’t you stay here for a while? It’s so nice" suggested Sheila and Beca just rolled her eyes at her, sitting on the hot sand besides one of their chairs and putting her headphones on.

Beca noticed Chloe playing volleyball in the water with the others and found herself hypnotized by her; the way her arms and body moved swiftly to hit the ball, the way she smiled. Beca was sure, if she were to remove her headphones, she would have been able to hear her melodic laugh.

The teenager froze when she saw Chloe noticing her. She quickly lowered her eyes and fixated them on the sand but was still enough aware of Chloe to know she was getting out of the water and walking her way. When she was close enough, Beca looked up again lowering her headphones. Chloe didn’t bother to get a towel and Beca's eyes couldn’t help but follow the droplets of water running down Chloe’s body.

“Aren’t you getting hot?" Chloe asked making Beca’s face go bright red.

“no... I-what?” babbled Beca shaking her head. Chloe chuckled at that and sat down on the sand next to her.

“why are you still fully dressed?” she questioned, and Beca released the breath she was holding in.

“I don’t want to swim” she simply said, without giving the redhead much to continue a conversation.

“The others wanted to go explore this place, to see if we can find something to do, you wanna come with us?” she offered gently.

“Nah, I’m good" declined Beca.

“Okay".

Chloe got up and started walking towards her friends when she suddenly turned around “I’ll see you tonight then" she said smiling and Beca’s heart felt warm.

The brunette was still looking at Chloe when she saw Tom reach out with a hand and shamelessly clean the sand from her toned ass, making it bounce a little. Beca had to look away.

“Okay I’m gonna go back to the hotel" she announced, leaving before her dad could answer anything. She spent the rest of the day working on her mix.

“So... Beca, right?” asked Stacie not waiting for an answer “we’re going out tonight and you’re coming with us" she ordered. Beca instinctively looked at Chloe, who smiled brightly at her “it’s gonna be fun, I promise” added the tall brunette with a wink. Beca found herself walking to the beach with the rest of the group, Chloe never dropped Tom’s hand – not that she was paying attention to that.

Beca froze when she noticed a bigger group of people waiting for them. She really wasn’t good at dealing with many people at once.

“Hey guys, this is Beca" introduced her Chloe “Beca, these are Jessica and Ashley. They come here every year, so they know every corner of this place" explained the redhead “She’s Flo...”

Beca zoned out while Chloe was introducing her to everyone, she knew she wouldn’t remember any of their names anyway, and which one was Ashley again?

“...and he-" continued Chloe, gesturing towards someone attached to Stacie face. Beca reconnected to the situation just in time to see Luke grinning at Chloe “is Luke. You should know him, he goes to our school” before Beca could decide if she wanted to say that yes, she knew him, Luke smiled at her.

“Of course! I gave her a fake ID. Becky, right?” Beca faked a smile awkwardly.

“it’s Beca actually” corrected him Chloe.

The brunette barely said a word through the whole night. Ashley and Jessica took them to an old forsaken pier, where they stood chatting and drinking beer. Beca thought it was pretty dangerous to drink in the dark on a tiny strike of cement in the sea, but whatever.

“At the end of this pier there is an old dismissed firehouse, everything is dark around it" said Ashley.

“it’s the best place to watch shooting stars" added Jessica.

“that’s amazing, we must go one night!” gasped Chloe excited.

Beca was desperately trying to find something to say, but the more she tried the more her brain got stuck on every little thought, without being able to express any of them. She felt weird, it was like nothing she came up with was good enough to say it aloud; everything sounded too stupid or too lame to interest all those people.

“Oh my god, Beca would you shut up for a second? You’re filling my head with words” complained ironically – and over dramatically – Aubrey, making almost everybody laugh.

“Aubrey!” scolded her Chloe.

“what? It was a joke, she didn’t say a word all night, that’s weird" complained the blonde grinning.

Beca was spiraling and she even considered to tell the group she was tired and run away from the situation when Luke suddenly took out a joint “does someone smoke?” he asked to the group before lighting it up.

“Sure” she answered, glad to have something to calm her nerves just a little.

“You smoke?” gasped Chloe, making Beca’s anxiety hit a new high.

“I… no, I mean yes- just sometimes. Is that a problem?” she found herself babble, as if she had to give some kind of explanation to anyone about that.

“She hates when I smoke” cut in Tom blowing the smoke out of his mouth, before passing her the joint.

Beca took a deep puff thinking that she would never smoke in front of Chloe after she told her it bothered her – if she were her girlfriend, of course – but Tom didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

“It not a problem” softly giggled the redhead “I just don’t like the smell”.

On their way back to the hotel, all Beca could think about was what a waste of time it had been to go out instead of working on her mix. The night was somehow even worse than she had expected, and she was feeling rather nauseous for all the anxiety it changed her with. Socializing is the fucking worst.

Suddenly she felt Chloe’s hand slide into hers, so she looked up at her – she had slowed down to walk next to Beca at the end of the group.

“So, fake ID, smoking pot… maybe I should stay away from you?” joked the redhead.

“Oh yes, I’m such a bad influence” scoffed Beca immediately cringing at her own words.

“How are you?” Chloe gently asked in a way more serious tone.

Beca swallowed hard “I’m good" she lied.

“You know, Aubrey isn’t as mean as she seems, she’s just really insecure and thinks to look stronger taking others down" she explained – that’s not an excuse thought Beca – “she does that with Bumper too" added the redhead squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, it’s okay, I don’t mind" assured her Beca trying her best to smile.

The next day Beca put on some shorts and her bikini top, but still sat the whole morning under her sunshade with her iPod, watching the others play.

The group seemed to have begun official, since they were all having fun together, even Luke was there. He and Stacie seemed to be very intimate, the guy didn’t waste any opportunity to playfully swipe her up in his arms and every time Stacie made sure to let her hands linger on his muscular arms or his toned abs.

The brunette took her phone to message Amy, who texted her the night before asking how the situation was, but Beca was too socially exhausted to answer at the time.

Beca:

Your Luke is here too. The guy is RIPPED!

Amy:

:Q_______ don’t make me jealous T_T

TALK TO HIM ABOUT ME!

Beca:

You know I don’t talk to people.

I think he’s hooking up with Stacie btw :/

Amy:

Aw fuck! <\3

Beca:

Anyway, the situation is balls! I hate everything about this fucking vacation!

She also got an SMS by Jesse that made her roll her eyes, but smile nonetheless.

Jesse:

I miss you too btw <3

Beca:

Shut up.

“Who are you texting?” asked Chloe peering over her shoulder “Jesse..." she answered herself “is he your boyfriend?” Beca instinctively locked her phone and put it away.

“What? No. Absolutely not, he’s not" she hurried.

“okay...” answered Chloe in amusement “boys only send me hearts when they want to date me though" she insinuated “and you told him you missed him"

“I didn’t, that’s the point” gasped Beca “he just assumed on his own" she complained.

“I think you like him" teased the redhead.

“I so do not” stated Beca blushing.

“Whatever, your face says otherwise. Come play now, you’ve sat here long enough" ordered Chloe and Beca found herself obliging.

“I don’t like him!” she repeated letting Chloe drag her towards their friends.

__Please take me away from here ‘Cause I feel like such an insomniac

On the 4th of July they organized this big bonfire on the beach, to see the fireworks and then spend the night there with lots of alcohol, drinking games and a stupid midnight swim – totally recommended to get eaten by a shark.

Beca was particularly grumpy the whole day, she couldn’t believe she was really going to spend the night with all those people she barely knew, after having spent the whole day with them already. She allowed herself to stay in the hotel for a little longer that morning, telling her father and Sheila she had a headache and would have reached them soon.

Beca was chilling under her sunshade when she noticed Chloe approaching her and lowered her headphones around her neck.

“Sheila told me you weren’t feeling good this morning, how are you now?” she asked and Beca could sense she really cared, for some reason.

“Yeah I’m feeling better now" assured her Beca with a small smile.

“Awes! So you’ll still gonna be with us tonight, right?”

The brunette rolled her eyes at that, she really couldn’t understand why Chloe cared so much about her going with them at this stupid party. “Yes, Chloe I’ll be there" she promised hating herself for not being able to say no to the redhead.

“Now come, we’re playing beach volley” added Chloe dragging her by the arm.

Beca could barely leave her iPod and headphones inside her sun bag, that was thrown in a match with Flo and Bumper against Chloe, Tom and Aubrey.

The brunette hated any kind of physical activity, but there was something about beating Aubrey – and Tom – that sparked a fire in her. She still found herself rooting for Chloe somehow, so she couldn’t find it in herself to strike the winning point and let the ball pass her. They won anyway because Flo saved it and Bumper finished the action crushing it at Tom’s feet. The look on Aubrey’s face was priceless.

“Did you miss that on propose?” joyfully accused her Chloe when she went to congratulate them for the win – she was the only one of her team to do that, since Aubrey was still yelling at Tom how big of a delusion he was.

“What? No!" she lied “now can I go listen to my mus-"

“Nope" interrupted her Chloe “now we’re swimming!” Chloe said taking her hand and Beca let the redhead drag her in the water, where Ashley, Jessica and other guys Beca couldn’t remember the names of, were waiting for them.

Shortly after Stacie and Luke reached them informing the group everything was set for the night.

After watching the fireworks Beca was ready to head home – she was ready to head home way before that – but Chloe convinced her to stay, offering her a solo cup with vodka mixed with something super sweet. It was gross but Beca drank it anyway – liquid confidence.

She was on her second drink when Stacie suggested to play ‘spin the bottle’ and everyone eagerly agreed. Beca didn’t, but she didn’t want to draw attention on her, being the only one who didn’t want to play.

“Okay the rules are simple" started Bumper with a serious voice, once they all sat around the fire “on your turn you spin the bottle and kiss whoever it points to. No exceptions or you must pay a pledge” he uselessly explained, since everybody knew the game. Beca hated this game.

“Girls don’t hold back. Specially if you’re kissing another girl, we all want to see that!” he added with a perverted smile on his stupid face.

Beca started feeling sick, she started to think about what she would have done if she had to kiss Tom or, even worse, what if she had to kiss Chloe? She didn’t want that to make things awkward and ruin what could become a good friendship between them.

The first one to spin the bottle was Flo – Bumper’s victim for the day apparently.

Bumper groaned loudly in disappointment when the bottle landed on Luke and the two shared a short kiss without losing too much time.

Beca’s heart was beating way to hard in her chest.

“This game is stupid, I’m out of here" she blurred out before getting up.

“Oh, come on! Worried your nerdy boyfriend would be jealous about it?” teased her Aubrey. Beca straight up wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but she didn’t – for Chloe, obviously.

“He's not my boyfriend” she said leaving.

“Beca hey, wait” called after her Chloe following her. When Beca was positive they were far enough from the group, she slowed down and let Chloe reach her.

“What happened?” asked the redhead with those soft eyes Beca could clearly see, even in the dim light.

“Nothing happened. It’s a stupid game" she repeated “and I don’t want to kiss most of the people sitting there anyway so what’s the point?” “so there’s someone you do want to kiss!” pointed out Chloe. Beca’s stomach twisted at that “who is it?”

“Is it Luke?” she hazarded when Beca didn’t answer to her.

“That’s none of your business” growled the brunette, starting to walk away again “don’t follow me" she demanded.

Beca couldn’t sleep that night and she couldn’t even work on her mix as she used to most nights, she was too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that she was rude to Chloe for no reason. She just really wanted to go back home.

The next day Beca didn’t want to go to the beach. She was sure Chloe hated her and didn’t have the guts to face her. She knew she had to, she needed to apologize to her, just like she did with Jesse before leaving for this hellscape.

“Dude, can we talk for a moment?” asked Beca before their chemistry class started. “What for?” asked Jesse. Beca guessed she deserved that.

“Look, I’ve been an ass okay? I was stressed out and took it out on you" she tried, but she knew the guy wouldn’t give in so easily “I like having you around, you’re like the only one I actually like having around. I miss you dude, I’m not good at this but school is not the same without you being my friend"

Jesse sighed loudly “okay weirdo, I’m gonna let this one go, but next time you pull something like that we’re done.” He threatened “now, what did you say about missing me?” he teased with a smug smile.

__Thinking to myself, hey isn't this easy? And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town

When Beca finally found the courage to go to the beach she even forgot to bring her headphones, busy rehearsing the speech she had prepared to apologize to Chloe.

She totally didn’t expect to find Chloe sat on the sunbed next to Sheila’s, waiting for her. Beca gulped and slowed down, her heart started racing and her hands were sweaty.

“Hey, Chloe... uhm" she cleared her throat, her speech suddenly disappeared from her memory. Chloe looked at her using a hand as a shield against the sun, that still passed through, forcing her to close one eye.

“Hey! You finally decided to join us huh?” she beamed at her and for a moment Beca thought her smile was brighter than the sun. Chloe wasn’t mad at her apparently, so Beca sighed sitting down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was waiting for you" simply said the redhead.

“What about the others?” “they went surfing". Beca furrowed her brows at that so Chloe added “I’m on my period" “oh" was all the brunette could answer.

“I was thinking we could listen to one of your playlists, but I see you don’t have your iPod” said Chloe pouting a little.

“I- I actually have it. I just forgot the headphones”.

“Oh, you girls can use mine" offered Sheila smiling at them and Beca felt very confused at that.

“No, don’t worry, there’s no need to" tried Beca but the woman insisted, so Chloe took the white wire she was offering.

“I’m going to put my feet in the water" excused herself Sheila.

Beca plugged the earphones in and gave one to Chloe, who adjusted herself on the lounger she was sharing with Beca – even if there was an empty one next to them now. Beca pressed play to her ’09 – ’10 playlist. It didn’t take long for Chloe to take charge of the device and start go through the tracks.

“Oh my God, can you listen to one whole song?” groaned Beca, Chloe kept constantly skipping through songs.

“Sorry" chuckled the redhead “okay, I promise I won’t skip this one" she said when ‘When Love Takes Over’ started playing.

“I didn’t think you listened to this stuff” Chloe quoted her and Beca smiled biting her bottom lip “it’s so different from your other playlists”

“I’m trying new things recently. I like the beat; David Guetta is really talented” she explained.

It was so easy to be with Chloe without all those annoying people around them, Beca loved the way Chloe went through her playlists and the smile she had while they discussed music made Beca feel all warm inside, or maybe it was the fact that they were basically laying on top of each other in the small sunbed, both wearing nothing but their swimming suits, with so much skin on skin contact. Beca was just actively not thinking about that.

Beca tried not to read too much into it when Chloe declined Tom's invitation to sunbathe together – that totally meant “come make out with me for a while” – telling him she’d rather stay there with Beca, but when the redhead turned even Aubrey down, a small pleased smile made its way on her lips.

“Ugh Chloe, you’re really boring when you’re on your period” complained the blonde in front of everyone and Beca furrowed at her “dude, what’s your problem?” she asked and felt Chloe grab her arm “don’t” she whispered before getting up “I’m coming” she sung following Aubrey.

__Oh, her eyes, her eyes, make the stars look like they’re not shining

That night they decided to go to the abandoned lighthouse. The path was so dark they had to use their phone screens or lighters to see where they were placing their feet.

“You could have told us to bring some flashlight or something” commented Stacie. “Yeah, you’re right… sorry” apologized Ashley.

“Okay, what now?” asked Aubrey crossing her arms around her middle, when they reached the end of the pier. “We… lay down and watch the stars” answered Jessica, trying her best to maintain her smile in place – she was clearly struggling with Aubrey’s attitude – so Beca decided to back her up.

“Sounds great to me” she said laying down.

Chloe was the first one to follow her and decided to use Beca stomach as a pillow, making her gulp. Beca didn’t even notice how much Jessica appreciated her gesture, because she was focused on not breathing too much and bother Chloe someway.

One at a time, all the guys laid down beside them, in a Tetris way; each of them was using a part of someone’s body as a pillow – except for Beca, who only put her crumpled hoody under her head – The brunette noticed Tom resting his head on Chloe’s tights, just where her short summer dress ended – they totally had sex already – something about that, incredibly bothered her.

“You guys aren’t going to do it while I’m your pillow, right?” she joked awkwardly and Chloe giggled looking up at her “Don’t worry, we’ll behave” she assured her with a wink that made Beca’s insides melt.

The starry sky was beautiful, the stars shined so brightly in the dark surrounding them that they could spot several shooting stars. Beca was finally enjoying herself; no interactions, no Aubrey – she was somewhere far from Beca and was finally shutting up – if Beca focused hard enough she could pretend it was only her, the stars and Chloe. It felt so good to have the redhead lying comfortably against her, she let her right hand gaze Chloe’s arm, it wasn’t Beca’s fault, it was just their position.

What she didn’t expect was for Chloe to reach out to take that hand and hold it on her own stomach, Beca froze for a moment at the feeling of Chloe’s fingers intertwined with hers, even if that wasn’t the first time.

“Ugh! I’m so bored” wined Aubrey, making Beca almost groan while she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah me, too” agreed Stacie “if we don’t do something now, I’m gonna fall asleep”.

“We could sing something!” suggested Chloe, but the others completely ignored her suggestion.

“Isn’t there a club or something?” asked Tom sitting up.

“Yeah, I wanna dance with some hot girls” exclaimed Bumper getting on his feet.

“Well, there’s a crappy disco club, but there are mostly old creepy men there” hesitantly admitted Ashley.

“Anything would be better than doing nothing here” stated Aubrey getting up.

Beca noticed Chloe huffing and she spoke without thinking “I’m cool staying here, if you want to stay” she whispered to Chloe. The girl suddenly started to sweat, her heart racing.

“Would you do that?” asked the redhead in disbelieve and Beca smiled at her.

“Of course, dude”.

Chloe turned to the others, now all on their feet, waiting for them “You guys go, we’re staying here” she informed them. Tom crouched down to hover over Chloe’s face “you gonna be okay?” he asked and she nodded smiling at him. The guy gave Chloe a quick kiss goodbye before leaving with the others.

Beca was in her head. She thought she had to say something, not to make things awkward, but for some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about Tom; about the fact that, if Chloe were her girlfriend, she would have never left her to go clubbing – if it was up to her she would have stayed there with Chloe stargazing her whole life.

Chloe shivering brought Beca back to reality, she quickly reached for the hoody under her head and offered it to her “cold?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want to take it from you” declined it Chloe shivering again.

“Shut up, you’re shivering!” stated Beca putting the hoodie on Chloe as a blanket.

“What if you get cold too?”

“You are my blanket” Beca heard herself saying and she widened her eyes.

“Fair enough, but if you get cold, you’re getting it back” intimated the redhead, and squeezed Beca’s hand, she was still holding under the hoodie.

“Okay” agreed Beca – there was no way she would take that hoodie back from her.

“So… your parents let you sleep with Tom?” Beca asked out of the blue.

“Absolutely not” laughed Chloe “officially, I share my hotel room with Stacie. But he has his own room”. Beca bit her tongue for asking – yup, they were definitely doing it.

“Have you ever been with someone?” asked Chloe as if she could read Beca’s mind, it made Beca choke on air and it took her a few coughs to blur a simple “no”.

“What about Jesse?”

Beca rolled her eyes at that “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend” she repeated annoyed

“Stacie says the same about Luke” informed her Chloe and Beca snorted.

“I don’t l-”

“you don’t like him, okay” sighed Chloe “but I think he likes you”.

Beca fell silent for a moment, contemplating that. “It is possible, yes. But does it really matter if I don’t like him back anyway?”

They weren’t staring at the stars anymore; Chloe had turned on her side to look at Beca more comfortably and Beca felt like she was drowning in those ocean blue eyes.

“No” said softly Chloe “but you could like him and not knowing. If Aubrey wouldn’t have told me Tom was into me, making me consider the fact of dating him, we wouldn’t have been together for almost two years now” she added. Beca frowned, could she really feel something for Jesse without knowing it? – she had to admit, she was rather clueless regarding her own feelings. “But maybe that’s not your case” shrugged Chloe.

“You’re different” blurred out Beca and Chloe gave her a questioning look “from the girl I met at dinner” she clarified looking away, suddenly looking at Chloe was too much for her.

“Yeah, about that” sighed the redhead “I owe you an apology, I was kind of a bitch” she said screwing up her face.

“I think you made up for that” Beca chuckled “why did you act like that though?” she asked.

“it’s just that… my parents, they are…” she railed off, so Beca looked at her again “I don’t really like them, or their friends- sorry”.

“Oh no, trust me, no one likes Sheila less than me” scoffed Beca.

“But she seems nice to you, I think being with your father changed her”

“I think she’s just faking it for him” answered Beca, feeling rather uncomfortable talking about her.

“Trust me, I would notice that. I’ve known her my whole life” assured Chloe.

“Why don’t you like your parents?” Beca asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“They’re just two selfish snobs, who only care about the appearances. Everything must look perfect on the outside, when the truth is that they don’t care about me at all-”

“How can that be true?” interrupted her Beca, genuinely finding it impossible for someone not to care about Chloe.

“They only care that I don’t embarrass them. So I put up with their façade in public, but I ignore them at home.”

Beca found herself squeezing Chloe’s hand in empathy, sensing the deep sadness behind her words.

“I’m sorry I ignored you too, to me you were only Sheila’s new kid” apologized Chloe “and I always ignored her too”

“I’m not her kid” clarified Beca, feeling uneasy “and you said that like if I was a new pair of shoes” she scoffed.

“No oh my god, of course. I- sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” rushed out Chloe “you’re so much more than that, Becs”.

Beca didn’t know if she blushed at that, but she knew for sure that her heart started racing again, so she cleared her throat to dissimulate it “why are you so kind to me all the times?” she asked, genuinely curious about that.

“why not?” asked Chloe smiling and Beca just laughed shaking her head.

“Why are you Aubrey’s friend then?” inquired the brunette. Chloe huffed loudly and Beca feared she overstepped – Aubrey was her best friend after all.

“We grew up together…” she started unsure “I don’t have memories of a time when I didn’t know her”.

Beca could understand that, even if she and Amy had opposite personalities, she grew to love her through time, so she figured it was the same thing for Chloe – Amy was way better than Aubrey though.

“I know she seems awful, but her parents are way worse than mine” continued Chloe “they put on her so many expectations, it’s so much pressure that I don’t know how she doesn’t crack under it” Chloe stopped to clear her throat “if she doesn’t reach their standards they call her a failure, she’s just a teenager!”

The girls talked until 2am before Chloe declared she was tired, so they went back to the hotel.

“Thank you” said Chloe taking off Beca’s hoodie and giving it back to her

“No problem” answered the brunette smiling gently “goodnight”

Her hoodie smell like Chloe now and Beca didn’t stop to wonder why she liked it so much, but she did. She made a mental note to always bring it along, just in case Chloe might need it again.

__My heart it pounds, yeah you got me

Beca wasn’t surprised when the next day Chloe spent more time with Tom, what surprised her was that she joined the group willingly and spent the day with them without hating it. She was pleased to notice that after a few days of knowing these people the effort she had to put in to socialize wasn’t that big anymore, things were starting to feel natural.

They decided – Aubrey decided – to go back to the club that night and Beca really hated the idea. She didn’t dance, no matter how hard Amy had tried, Beca decided that dancing just wasn’t for her.

“That place sucks so bad” said Aubrey for the millionth time and Beca was bold enough to ask her “why are we going then?”

“Because there’s nothing else to do in this fucking place” spat out the blonde rolling her eyes.

Beca found herself isolating again when they started a singing game where one player started singing a song and, on your turn, you had to sing another song starting by one word of the song the other player was singing. If you don’t sing on your turn, you lost.

Beca was close enough to hear them and had a song ready for each turn, she couldn’t help her smile when Chloe started to sing the same song she thought of. When Bumper interrupted her to keep the game going, Beca found herself missing Chloe’s voice for a moment and decided to distract herself not to think about that.

“Why don’t you come playing with us?” asked Chloe, making her jump; the brunette didn’t notice Chloe approaching her.

“I don’t sing” she blurred out.

“This is not a singing contest, it’s just a game. I know you would be very good at-”

“Chloe would you come play? Forget about her” scoffed Aubrey “she’s just being a weirdo as usual”.

Beca sensed Chloe tensing up, she knew the girl was ready to fight Aubrey about that, but she stopped her hushing out a quickly “don’t worry” before getting up from her beach towel “it’s not worth it” she added leaving.

It was shortly after dinner when Chloe showed up at her hotel room “You forgot this on the beach today” she said gently handing her the towel.

“Oh, thanks” answered Beca taking it with a smile and starting to close the door.

“Wait” stopped her the redhead pushing against the wooden surface “can I come in?”

“Sure” said Beca moving out of the way “if this is about what Aubrey said, I’m okay” she assured.

“It isn’t” said Chloe “I mean, yes that too, but mostly I came here to get you ready” she beamed out showing her the beauty case she brought along.

Beca arched an eyebrow “what for?” she asked slightly scared.

“for tonight”

“I’m not coming” scoffed Beca.

“Yes, you are! Beca please, we’re gonna have fun! Do it for me?”

So Beca found herself sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, with Cloe fixing her hair with a curling iron.

“Why do you care so much if I come to this stupid club anyway?” asked Beca struggling to stay still with the burning hot weapon so close to her head.

“I just enjoy your company” Chloe said casually “is it that hard to believe?”

“No, I guess” lied Beca – it was the most impossible think to believe for her, that someone like Chloe wanted to waste her time with her. She was obviously just being nice to the weird kid because she was a nice person.

Beca spent most of the night sitting on a short wall next to the dancefloor, if one could call it that; the ‘club’ was more a bar stand with a large space – probably a dismissed caravan parking site – they put a console, some speakers and stroboscopic lights in. the only good aspect was that they served alcohol without asking for an ID, but the place was depressing and the Dj sucked.

Next to Beca there was Lily – a girl of their group Beca never heard speaking, but who still interacted more than her – who didn’t feel like dancing either apparently. Beca didn’t talk to her, she kept sipping at her Rum and Coke in silence. Beca was definitely not watching Chloe dance against Tom, the way she dipped low and grind against him after rising back up, he was slowly moving behind her, eventually grabbing her hips or bending over to kiss her cheek, neck or anything he could find.

If you ask her, Beca couldn’t tell how, but when she saw the group come back from the dancefloor, she knew Aubrey was about to tell her something stupid, convinced to be extremely funny. “Wow Beca, you’re really having fun tonight huh?” she teased and the brunette just snorted at her, more bothered by the terrible work the ‘Dj’ was doing than by the cheap comments Aubrey could come up with.

She vaguely noticed Just Dance started playing. The mix she just finished making was ten times better than what they were listening to. For a moment she fantasized about taking control of the dj boot and play it, she had it in her iPod after all. Chloe taking her hand brought her back to reality.

“Let’s go dancing!” screamed Chloe, probably because she’d been dancing too close to one of the speakers, tugging at her arm.

“I don’t dance”

“Of course, you don’t” chuckled Chloe “come onnnnn” she whined.

“I don’t even like this song” tried Beca, putting down the empty solo cup she was still holding.

“Liar, I know you love this song, it’s in your playlist!” called her out Chloe “come dance with me, please”

Beca couldn’t resist that smile, her heart started racing; the brunette knew in that moment that she was doomed – she would have done anything Chloe had asked her.

Beca let Chloe drag her in the middle of the dancefloor and felt a shiver when the girl didn’t drop her hand when she started dancing. Beca was frozen, she had no idea what to do, she was the only idiot standing still, but couldn’t convince her body to start moving.

“Dance!” laughed Chloe, gently shaking her by the hand.

“I don’t know how to” she confessed.

Chloe moved impossibly close to her face and Beca’s breath got caught in her throat. “I’m gonna tell you a secret” whispered the redhead “nobody does” she said winking “just move with me”

Beca thought she was going to pass out when Chloe reached out to gently place her hands on Beca’s hips, bringing their bodies together, to rhythmically move against each other. Having the other girl so close made her heart beat unsafely fast. Eventually she started moving on her own to dance with Chloe; the way Chloe pushed her head up, sometimes running her fingers through auburn hair, was unfairly sexy. For the first time Beca didn’t second-guess what was going on; she just kept on dancing, resting her forearms on Chloe’s shoulders. The way Chloe’s looked oat her took her breath away; she blamed it on the alcohol and the loud beat, on the endorphins formed in her system because of all the dancing – probably everybody felt this intoxicated while dancing with someone – everything was normal.

__ She is like a melody in my head That I can't keep out

The rest of the vacation was a blur to Beca. Maybe it’s true what they say about time running faster when you’re having a good time. Beca wouldn’t say she was actually having a good time, she still hated hanging out with people she barely knew and had pretty much nothing in common with – and most of all she still hated Aubrey – but the small moments she got to spend with Chloe were enough to get her by.

Those times Chloe choose to sit on her lap instead of the empty seat that was too far from her, or when she randomly took her hand or started lightly brushing her fingertips on her harm in that relaxing way – that did everything but relax Beca, if she was honest – or even the casual touches, those Beca wasn’t even sure Chloe did on purpose. Those moments were all Beca could think about. Chloe was all Beca could think about.

It wasn’t unusual for them to listen to Beca’s iPod together while eating lunch or while the others went jumping from the riff; something that Beca found very funny, but that Chloe hated, so Beca decided to pass on that too, just to spend more time alone with the redhead.

“What is this?” Asked the redhead scrolling through the songs “Beca-mix_1"

Beca’s eyes widened and she jumped to take the iPod from Chloe, but she was too slow, and swallowed hard hearing the first notes of it playing in her ear.

“Did you make this?” asked Chloe in shock.

“Yeah...” shyly admitted the brunette.

“Beca this is amazing!”

“You like it?” asked Beca in disbelief.

“I love it!” gasped Chloe in awe “Beca, you’re so talented!”

“I- thank yo-"

“Did you make others?”

“No, I mean yes, but they’re crap. This is the first one I liked enough to save it" explained Beca scratching at the back of her head.

She had never let anyone listen to her mixes – not even Amy – and she’d never thought Chloe of all people would have been the first one to hear it. For some reason Chloe’s opinion meant the world to her, and the fact that she liked something she made, gave her a weird kind of high she’d never experienced before.

__Feels like I’ve waited so long for this, I wonder if it shows

One night, after they said goodbye to the others, the core group decided to stay up until dawn instead of going to sleep, so they sneaked Luke – who always walked Stacie to the hotel to steal one last kiss – in and went on the roof of the hotel, that was full equipped with chairs, sofas and sunbeds. Beca opted for a hammock, while the others were gathering their seats in a circle-like form next to her.

“Scoot" intimated her Chloe wanting to fit on the hammock with her, but Beca didn’t move. “fine, I’m just gonna lay on top of you then" threatened the redhead trying to climb on the hammock and risking flipping it.

“Okay, okay. Jesus!” laughed Beca making room for Chloe next to her.

“Do you two need a room?” joked Stacie.

“I’m totally on board with that babe!” added Tom laughing.

“Who told you you’re invited?” teased Chloe with a smug smile.

Beca knew they were all kidding, but she couldn’t stop her face to turn bright red and her heart to beat so fast she was afraid Chloe could feel it hammer against her chest.

“Beca you wanna smoke?” asked her Luke lighting up yet another joint.

“No thanks, I’m gonna pass" she declined, for Chloe obviously; she didn’t want to bother the redhead, since she knew the girl couldn’t stand the smell of it. Beca didn’t know if she was hoping that Chloe noticed she was doing it for her or not, but when Chloe turned to whisper to her “it’s okay if you wanna smoke, it doesn’t bother me" she felt her stomach flip.

“Aw Beca, your alt girl days are ending already?” mocked her Aubrey.

“Aubrey why don’t you try smoking a little? It will relax you! And while you’re at it you can also try getting off my case for once?” she spat out.

“Woooooah" cheered Bumper and everyone – except for Aubrey, obviously – started laughing.

It didn’t take long for Chloe to fall asleep, Beca had put her hoodie on the both of them as a blanket and made sure not to raise her voice too much while laughing and chatting with the others. After a while the group started to run out of energy; Tom was checking his phone, Stacie and Luke were just making out and Aubrey was busy convincing Bumper that nothing would ever happen between the two of them.

Beca took the opportunity to lose herself in her thoughts; in the fact that, even if she’d always hated physical contact, to have Chloe sleeping cuddled up on her felt so nice. She didn’t want to elaborate the feeling, nice was enough for now, it was too soon to let her mind analyse the way her body felt warmer every time Chloe as much as looked her way, or the way her heart beat out of time. It was too dangerous to get an answer to why that happened to her every time Chloe was around.

She noticed the guys decided to go to give up, too tired to wait for the sunrise, and she decided to pretend she was asleep, not ready to give up laying there with Chloe yet.

“Chlo, come on, we’re going to sleep" tried Tom, but the redhead didn’t give him any response, other than a soft snore.

After a few minutes of trying, Aubrey got annoyed “let’s just leave them" she said, “I’m going to bed" and left.

Beca heard Tom standing there pondering the situation for a moment, before deciding to leave too.

The morning after Beca was awakened by the sun burning hot on her face; that and the hoodie worked together to generate an uncomfortable heat, making them both sweat. A soft groan escaped her, she didn’t mean to really fall asleep, she just wanted a few more minutes before waking Chloe up and going to their respective hotel rooms.

They had shifted during the night and Beca soon found out that she couldn’t move without waking Chloe up some way; the redhead was half on top of her, using her shoulder as a pillow and their limbs were intertwined. Beca’s left arm – the one laying under Chloe’s body – was numb, but somehow Beca didn’t hate any of that.

Chloe’s smell surrounding her and the weight of the girl on her made Beca feel things she’d never felt before. If it was anyone else, Beca would have rung for the hills, but there was something different about this girl, something special, that didn’t scare her. If anything, it made her feel brave.

Beca didn’t realise her hand was on Chloe’s hip, until the girl shifted beneath it while turning around, she turned too much and Beca had to catch her before she fell down the hammock. The brunette knew it would have given away the fact that she was awake, but she figured that falling down the hammock wouldn’t have been a really nice way to wake up.

“Nice catch" mumbled Chloe rubbing her eyes, still a little shook for her almost fall “were you awake?”

“Yeah I just woke up" confessed Beca “I couldn’t move though”.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” asked the redhead still half asleep – she looked adorable.

“I don’t know, it seemed rude" laughed Beca.

__ I'll hold on to it, don't you let it pass you by

The last day of vacation came way too soon. Beca spent the day with a heavy feeling on her stomach, due to the awareness that everything was ending. Back in Atlanta things won’t be the same as they were now, they were going back to reality, a reality where Beca can’t spend every day with Chloe listening to music and just being.

It was bittersweet to see her same gloom mirrored in Chloe’s behavior; it felt nice to know that Chloe was sad about giving up what they had now, but that only confirmed Beca’s conviction that everything was about to change for them.

The evening went by in the blink of an eye and the group was finishing dinner in the big hotel’s dining room.

“Are we going to stay up tonight? For real I mean" asked Tom chewing the last bite of his steak.

“Of course we are, that’s our last night" answered Bumper “but we have to sneak in everyone this time, I know Florencia will give in tonight" he added making the others roll their eyes.

“Leave that poor girl alone, she doesn’t know how to tell you anymore, she’s not interested” spat out Stacie.

“That’s the point, she doesn’t know how to say no anymore, so she might say yes" he explained wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh, dude that’s fucked up!” groaned Beca pushing her plate away.

“Are we going to sneak in some booze too or we gonna behave?” asked Chloe biting her lip.

“We’re obviously sneaking some alcohol in, Chloe. I can’t stand those idiots when I’m sober" scolded her Aubrey.

“Ugh true” laughed Stacie, igniting a general laugh.

This was one of the things Beca couldn’t stand about this group, they were always talking shit about people behind their backs and pretend to like them when they were around. It wasn’t even true that they didn’t like them, they just needed to be assholes sometimes and make fun of other people. Even Chloe let herself get involved in their behavior – something she had to do to adapt to the group, for sure – and that was probably the only thing Beca didn’t like about her. Beca was sure they did the same thing with her too and the thought made her feel sick.

That night there was an unspoken agreement between the girls, to keep Flo away from Bumper for as long as they could; he was harmless, but all of them knew how annoying he could get and they didn’t want Flo to give in just to make him stop – even Aubrey seemed to care about that and did her part.

As soon as they got to the roof, they rushed to find a seat.

“Becs, come sit with me?” suggested Chloe gesturing towards the hammock and Beca felt her stomach do that flip she was used to by now.

“No way!” shouted Bumper “the hammock is mine tonight! Miss Fuentes, care to join me?” he said all charming after occupying the hammock.

“She won’t. She’s sitting next to me" ordered Aubrey patting the empty chair next to her sofa, as if she was calling a dog.

Flo sat down next to her whispering a hushed “thank you".

Chloe ended up sitting on Tom’s lap and Beca curled up in a sofa a couple of seats from them.

They decided to play ‘never have I ever’ and Beca thought she was winning when she realized she hadn’t done most of the things they were mentioning; she only drank once when Chloe said “Never have I ever smoked pot".

She learned a lot of things she didn’t care about but that Amy would have loved to know; she learned that Aubrey got blackout drunk and spent the night with her face in the water, that Luke was actually pretty good in school and that Stacie – and Bumper apparently, but no one really believed him – was in a threesome once.

When it came her turn, she smirked devilishly, convinced that what she was about to say would have made everyone drink – something nobody succeeded with yet – “Never have I ever… kissed someone” she proudly declared.

The group fell silent for a moment.

“What?” spat out Aubrey suddenly, unable to keep her laugh in anymore.

“You can’t be serious” added Stacie shocked.

“I mean we can make up for that if you want, we have Bumper who would kiss anything as long as it moves" chuckled Aubrey.

Beca stood there while everyone was laughing at her, she didn’t know what the hell made her think it was something to brag about – to be 16 and haven’t kissed anyone yet – she felt her eyes sting, she knew she was about to tear up, but was trying to hold back with everything she had, she couldn’t give them any more reasons to laugh at her.

“I don’t think it’s funny" said Chloe.

“Come on babe, you have to admit it is a little funny" said Tom still giggling.

It made Chloe stand up from his lap and turn around to glare at him “okay, whatever, it’s not funny" he agreed, trying to get her to sit back on his lap, Chloe angrily freed her hand from his grasp and walked away from him, towards Beca.

“Can I sit with you?” she asked gently.

“Sure" quickly answered the brunette trying to make as much room as she could for Chloe to sit next to her.

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore” she declared.

“Babe I’m cold, come back here" complained Tom.

“You know I can’t stand you when you act like an asshole”.

It didn’t take long for Chloe to curl up into Beca while they were listening to one of Flo’s weird stories. Beca wasn’t listening to her at all, she was focused on the feeling of having Chloe curled up on her for the last time in who knows how long.

When the sun started rising, Beca felt there was something final about it. Her last sunrise with Chloe. It was like time was slipping from her hands and there was nothing to do about it.

“Shouldn’t we clean up this mess?” asked Chloe when the guys started to say goodbye to each other.

“People are paid to do it, Chloe” told her Aubrey in her usual smartass tone.

Beca had an earlier flight than the rest of the group because her father had to be back in Atlanta sooner, so she had to say goodbye to Chloe at the hotel, while the others got to take her same plane. Beca awkwardly waved the group goodbye before pushing her suitcase in the back of the taxi and when she turned around Chloe crushed into her, hugging her tight.

“Have a safe flight" she whispered in Beca’s ear.

“Yeah you too" told her the brunette pulling back from the hug with a soft smile.

When she climbed into the taxi Sheila was looking at her proudly “I told you, you were gonna become friends" she all but beamed.

“Whatever” huffed Beca before putting her headphones on. She felt bad about being rude to Sheila – that’s a first, she thought – but it lasted for almost five seconds, before she turned around to see Chloe waving her goodbye from the sidewalk.

#bechloe au #high school au #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect au #becloe fic

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imjeralee · 5 years ago

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Comfort in Despair: Chapter 2 - Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my Leon fic!!!!! Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Warnings: None! But dis fic be scary sometimes

Extra Note: If this was an anime episode it would be called 立ち去った、悪霊！チャンピオンダンデと祓魔師の冒険！ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

...

["It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt, It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills, It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter." - The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien]

...

This would be the first time you have had someone properly accompany you during your excursions; a long time ago, Sonia was eager to come with you but unfortunately she wasn't quite able to stay awake during most of the night and you had to continue on without her, leaving her fast asleep in the tent with Yamper.

Also, you don't want to endanger her in either way, otherwise Magnolia may not forgive you. You're close to them and Magnolia wouldn't say such things to you in person but you know deep inside that you mustn't jeopardise her granddaughter.

It's nice to have a companion for a change.

"I mean, for once, I don't need to fill in the silence by talking to myself," you utter to yourself under your breath and it's completely due to force of habit but Leon overhears and throws his glance to you.

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing."

It's true though.

Leon and yourself meander down the path with Charizard lumbering behind you. Although you're not sure if it is the right thing to allow Leon to come with you, a part of you is wondering if things might end up differently if you tackled this one as a group rather than just going solo. There is still no sign of the house however.

"This can be very dangerous," you warn him again but he's looking very optimistic.

"Charizard will protect us!" he exclaims with boyish enthusiasm, a type of naïveté which you find rather bemusing because you wonder how he will react once he sees a ghost....though you do inwardly cringe about the thought of Leon running away whilst screaming his head off.

Meanwhile, Charizard emits an all-knowing snort and nods his head. They both look confident and comfortable.

"Ghosts are an entirely different thing, Leon."

"Yeah, but do you have any pokemon?"

You stop in your tracks immediately, cheeks feeling warm as Leon pauses as well, quietly observing your reaction. Without looking at him, you mutter out, "K-kind of, I have my sister's pokemon but I don't want to use them. If anything happened to them I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

"Okay, so you don't have any pokemon with you?" Leon says, crossing his arms. Although he's wearing baggy clothes, his sleeves still go taut from the motion and you can see the outlines of his rock hard biceps which you had grabbed not too long ago.

You clear your throat, trying not to think about that incident and focus on what is presently at hand at this moment. It's refreshing to see him fully-dressed in his sweats for a change. You're used to seeing pictures of him in the champion attire consisting of the red cape, tight black t-shirt, white shorts and tights. He's kept his snapback, however.

Shaking your head in response to his question, a look of surprise crosses his handsome face.

"It's incredibly dangerous to go into the Wild Area without a pokemon partner. I could send you back to the Meetup Spot right now," he says.

Your cheeks go pink as he tells you off and you hang your head low whilst kicking a stone in your path, pouting. "As long as I have my stash of pokedolls and I don't go into the tall grass, I'm fine..."

He breaks into a grin at your defeated response, "I was kidding!"

You don't get his humour as he continues to chuckle; your clueless expression must be priceless to him.

He adds, "It's fine, I can help catch a pokemon for you."

"...You don't need to catch a pokemon for me. I've always been going to the Wild Area without any pokemon."

"Miss, if you insist on wandering the Wild Area alone in the dark with no pokemon... as Champion of Galar and for the sake of your safety, I insist that I must stay by your side for the remainder of the night."

You give him an incredulous look. “Do you say that to every girl you come across or am I special?”

He starts spluttering immediately, your comment has taken him completely off guard. “W-what? N-no, I don't say to every girl-"

You watch as he continues stuttering.

"Uh, I don't talk to a lot of girls but when I do, I usually wouldn’t... I wouldn’t say-"

It seems to be growing worse.

"I mean, I had to say that because you are special-"

"Leon, relax, I was joking," you chuckle under your breath and Leon ends up offering you an awkward grin. "C'mon, let's go."

You begin to pick up pace once again with Leon on your left and Charizard moves to your right. Compared to you, he is so cheerful and enthusiastic, even at this time at night. He looks happy and so the conversation continues.

"What's this all about then?" he asks.

"A client says he came across a haunted house around these parts so I'm going to investigate," you reply, "this isn't anything new, Leon. I'll get to the bottom of this soon."

He blinks wide-eyed for a few seconds, "And uh, how long have you been researching pokemon?"

"About five years."

"I recognise your name – you live with Sonia and Professor Magnolia, right?"

"Yeah."

"They've mentioned you several times. It's a shame we never got a chance to meet until now."

"Likewise," you reply, throwing a glance to your radio which you have fished out from your bag.

"You know who I am, don't you?"

"Of course I do, and even if I didn't, you said it yourself there anyway," you utter, although the majority of your attention is focused on the radio, "I didn't expect to meet you here though."

His face grows red as he rubs the back of his neck with his large palm. "...Charizard and I are undertaking some private training. Isn't that right, big guy?"

Charizard nods happily and swings his bulky tail around in the air and you have to hop to avoid the wagging of his tail until he accidentally smacks into you and something hot slaps you on the rear and begins to grow hotter and hotter.

Sniffing the air, the atmosphere begins to become laced with the smell of burning plastic and you quickly throw a glance behind you. You are greeted with the sight of bright orange flames tickling your backside and your eyes widen.

"I'M ON FIRE!!!"

A bug-eyed look is Leon's response when he turns round and gets an eyeful. The back of your coat is indeed, covered in flames. "Charizard! Be careful!" he reprimands the flame pokemon. There is no hint of malice in his voice but he is stern.

Charizard's apology consists of a couple of snorts and loud huffing as you begin running around aimlessly in a panic.

"Um, drop to the floor and roll around!" Leon yells so you throw yourself to the ground in front of him and begin rolling but the fire doesn't go away so easily.

Fortunately for you, you spy a deep puddle up ahead that is being perused by a Lotad so you get back up and leap heftily towards it.

The Lotad hurriedly scurries away as soon as it senses your incoming arrival and your back meets the puddle. Water goes splashing everywhere but you are saved. You exhale noisily with relief as the flames are extinguished and there is a loud yet satisfying 'tssssssss' following as smoke begins to seep out from under your back, evaporating into the air in silky white wisps.

Leon heads up to you sheepishly and stands before you; you swerve your eyes up and your gazes meet as he removes his snapback, cradling it in his hands, "I am so sorry. Are you okay?"

"........Yeah."

"I'll make it up to you," he pulls something out from his bag and lifts it out.

It's a Burn Heal.

You cannot help but roll your eyes and sigh under your breath. "I'm fine. Let's just keep going."

Leon sticks his hand out for you which you take and he helps you back onto your feet once again.

"....Thanks," you say with a wince as Charizard looks at you with very wet eyes, "It's okay, dude. No big deal."

You reach a hand to pat him on the horns but then it dawns to you that maybe you should've asked Leon for permission first. The thought hadn't crossed your mind therefore you're quick to retreat and Leon notices, emitting a laugh.

"Go on, he likes to be petted. And he loves tummy rubs too."

"O-oh, right...Cool." you pat Charizard's horn and his tail slams up and down over the ground with affection. "Hey, Leon. How bad is it?"

Leon tiptoes round you to inspect your back. Your coat is waterproof so the material is more durable but you're not sure whether it is flame retardant to a certain degree or not so Leon takes note that it is charred and black all over, especially at your ass. Good news, Charizard's flames didn't burn right through to your trousers and panties. However, Leon does stare for a fraction longer than necessary which warrants you to turn and look at him curiously in response.

He clears his throat, returns to your side, fitting his snapback over his soft and fluffy purple hair. "I'll pay for the damage."

You shake your head.

After that shenanigan, the conversation and any further attempts to interact fizz out like a dying candle in the wind. You're far more invested with finding the damn house and the quicker you find it the better.

On the way, you continue fiddling with the radio and try to grab a signal as you hold it high and low in the air and Leon often throws wary glances at you and your device but says nothing of it. You wander down the path, looking up and around and Leon halts in his path all of a sudden.

"What is it?"

"There," he has spotted a distant glow ahead; it would have been difficult to see if either of you had taken a few steps further. "Do you see that?"

You follow to where he is pointing and indeed, a small trickle of light can be seen peeping out between the thick leaves of the trees and it's suspicious enough; you move towards the bushes, pulling all the thick fauna and branches and leaves away until you are greeted with the brief outline of a large and dark building.

"Leon, you found it!" you exclaim happily.

Oh thank Arceus above! Finally, some good news!! Grinning widely, you look at each other at the same time, elevated to have achieved the goal and it seems everything has returned to normal; there is no awkwardness, no more silence between you, and it occurs to you that he has a really nice smile.

"L-let's go," you stutter out as your heart decides to thud harder than usual and you speedily abort eye contact.

You feel your cheeks growing warm as Leon nods.

The house is completely off path. You have to wade through extensive, overgrown fauna and step through some slimy mud, occasionally getting your foot stuck if Leon wasn't here to help you. Charizard trails after the two of you and snorts as he gets caught in low-hanging branches and he waves his claws around as tiny insects buzz around him. It appears to be a normal path but soon it grows to a long-winded nature trail that takes you far from the main path which the gym challengers are supposed to stick to.

After a long trek that seemed to go on and on, you find yourself in front of a large and dilapidated house and you whip out your book, glancing at the diagram you drew before you spare another glance at the house once again.

"This is it," you say, as Leon peers over your shoulder to look at your drawing. "It's been abandoned for years."

Your drawing matches the house perfectly. The house is as your client described - a two storey mansion, derelict, one single door. Georgian architecture with symmetrical, long and thin, tall windows. There is only one light visible from the top floor, second window from the right.

"Must be a master bedroom, the old man's bedroom perhaps....it must be the source..." you murmur as you look at it in awe.

You proceed to take a step forwards and as though sensing your presences, all the lights flicker on with soft orange glows emitting from all windows.

Leon and Charizard stare at the spectacle, stunned.

"It knows we're here," you murmur under your breath again, "...Note to self: perhaps it is a sentient being?"

"Huh?"

"N-never mind, I'm just talking to myself again."

"Oh, uh...shall we go in?"

You nod without further ado and promptly make a move towards the house until you remember you are not alone; glancing at Leon, you say, "Leon, you don't need to go inside with me. I can take it from here."

He shakes his head. "I'm going with you. I'll protect you," he replies, and your cheeks grow pink once again.

You're aware he means it literally of course, but sometimes when a guy says such words to a girl...

Well... a girl might get the wrong idea.

"Thanks, Leon. I really appreciate this," you utter, before you pull out a small pouch from your pocket and hand it to him, "Take this; it's salt. Salt repels evil spirits. Use it if you need to, create a salt circle and sit in it, all the way until dawn. Keep this with you at all times."

He accepts the packet of salt with some uncertainty. "Thanks."

You give a packet to Charizard but he just ends up tearing it in half and the contents fall to the ground.

You don't bother telling them about anything else that repels or protects evil spirits because he already has your good luck charm and the salt and that should be enough so you proceed to go up to the front door. Leon follows you with Charizard at his heels. They are both on high alert.

They're extremely brave considering they're dabbling into the unknown and you're stunned they want to continue to stay with you because you have finally located the house and do not require further assistance. They're not as scared as you thought they would be.

Once you're at the door, you swallow down, take a deep breath and knock on the wood and wait as a low, creaky groan emits and echoes around the house. You use the time to inspect the door as no minor or detail feature should be left out although all you can see is that the door is rusted and dull. Only the handle shows use as it's smooth and shiny, indicating many hands have touched this doorknob prior.

"Why are you knocking?" Leon asks in a hushed whisper as he peers over your shoulder.

"It's polite," is your reply.

The door opens.

You and Leon exchange a brief glance as it creaks open a small fraction before you push open the door as wide as possible and you shine your torch inside, the light illuminating the dark walls and revealing an empty corridor.

It's silent.

At the very end of the corridor is a lone door.

This particular door is ajar and a thin outline of orange lines the walls indicating the light is on within. You can see shadows flitting around too, giving the false pretence that there are people here.

You are about to step inside further until Leon holds his arm out.

"I'll go in first," he says.

His demeanour has changed from goofy goofball to the serious and brave champion of Galar. You stare in surprise at the sudden change as he passes you, strolling in the house without any tremble in his step, followed by Charizard who is keen to protect his best friend.

You tell him that it's best to retrace your client's steps so your group ventures through the corridor, taking note of the staircase to the right that leads to the second floor before you head towards the door and Leon firmly grasps the awaiting handle and pushes down, opening the door.

You watch as Leon enters the room first with Charizard and you slide inside after him.

It's a room.

You do not see or hear anything out of the ordinary as you glance around; it is nothing but an empty room with peeling wallpaper. There are no furniture, no painting or portrait on the wall, no carpet. There are only two windows in the room, showing the bleary night and trees wavering in the wind outside.

However, you can’t deny that something is off about this room.

The atmosphere is suffocating and you draw in heavy breaths.

”Leon, be careful,” you say, “...there’s something evil here. I can sense it.”

Leon and Charizard continue looking up and around until the drastic drop in room temperatures causes you to grow still, having sensed an ominous presence. Numerous chills run down your spine and as your chest goes stiff and your breath begins to shorten, you slowly avert your focus to one corner.

An old man dressed in dirty rags stands with his back to you, facing the wall.

It's as your client had described.

You grab Leon by the arm and point at the apparition; he's seeing what you're seeing too whilst Charizard is ready to attack.

However, you shout, "Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

Immediately, the room flares into life at your demand.

The old man turns, revealing a disgusting, grotesque and deformed face before a scream erupts into the room and the apparition zooms towards your group.

You gasp as Leon throws himself over you and you're pulled into his thick and sturdy chest and Charizard attacks out of fear. Flames burst forth from his mouth and once the flames die away, the old man is nowhere to be seen though you do hear the little pitter patter of footsteps rushing away.

Whilst Leon clutches you firmly and Charizard pants heavily, you have pinpointed the source of the horrendous screaming, locating it to the top left corner of the room where you see the wavy silhouette of a Misdreavus who quickly disappears into thin air after being spotted as well as a Chandelure that dissolves into the atmosphere.

The screaming stops at once and the lights go off in a split second, bathing everyone in darkness; the only source of light is from Charizard's tail and your torch.

Whilst Charizard huffs, Leon is still holding you tightly.

Strange. Your heart is thudding even harder than before and not from the apparition but rather your close proximity with the Champion... and you're sure he can tell as your chests are pressed together so tightly and your nose is pushed into the soft, downy fabric of his hooded sweater. He smells of musk, fire and earth and his arms are looped around you protectively whilst your fingers curl over his broad shoulders. Your heart gradually races even harder against your ribs when you realise no-one has held you like this before, especially a man.

He swerves his glance down to you. You're not as tall as Leon so when you look up timidly and your eyes meet, you both look away and his grip loosens on you and you're quickly released. He steps away from you, clearing his throat and when you steal a look at him, you see that there is a spray of pink dusting his cheeks.

"W-well, that explains the screaming and the lights," you stutter, trying to calm your racing heart, "I-it's a Misdreavus and a Chandelure."

You do not receive a response; Leon is silent.

".....A-are you okay?" you croak.

"Y-yeah," he finally grunts out, rubbing the back of his neck, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Whoo, sweet mother of Cherrim, that was something, right?" you laugh awkwardly as you stand near each other in the room, "I gotta hand it to you, Leon, y-you must be a...a sociopath or something if that didn't scare you. And a highly-functioning sociopath to be exact."

You wonder if you should've said psychopath instead; no matter, you had meant that in the best way possible but Leon's expression forces you to stop laughing.

"You're okay too," he points out.

"I see these kinds of things often, it is so unoriginal it doesn't scare me anymore," you say as you fold your arms gently behind your back.

"...What kind of things scare you?"

What a funny question to ask, but you suppose you can humour him. "I'll tell you when all of this is over."

"Okay. So, what was that?"

"An illusion," you reply as you take a deep breath. "Allow me to elaborate."

Leon watches as you begin your analysis, stepping around the room.

"I noticed there's no dust here or outside in the corridor. Not a single speck. It's been regularly maintained which tells me this place is important to the occupants. It's their home and it's special to them."

You begin walking around Leon and Charizard, strolling in circles until you nonchalantly step over to where the old man was standing and immediately go on all fours, sniffing the ground whilst Leon and Charizard watch your display with mystified expressions.

"This smell is....Pecha berries," you finish after sniffing the air, before you reach forwards to grab a pluck of rough black fur that is sticking out from one of the gaps of the floorboards.

"Is that from a pokemon?"

"Yep. A Zorua or Zoroark, maybe. They're masters in the art of illusion."

Leon crosses his arms with a smile playing on his lips; he looks impressed with your findings.

You move to stand, dusting your palms again and placing them on your hips, nodding to yourself.

"Mm-hm. That about sums it up. This is it's home and it's not alone. I'm guessing a lot of ghost pokemon live here and maybe even some dark types. They're harmless and I highly doubt there's actually any ghosts here, just pokemon. They probably just enjoy pranking people or scaring people who stumble across here so they're working together to create the ruse of a haunted house and – "

You are interrupted in your explanation when you are violently swept off your feet by an unseen force, your body tossed into the air like a ragdoll and flung against the wall to the far left.

Leon and Charizard rush over immediately as you drop to the floor and roll to your stomach, face-down. "Are you okay?!"

You hiss in pain as Leon helps you up, "Ouch. Uh...yeah, I'm okay. No need to worry, this happens to me a lot too...." you end up croaking out, though you can't help but shiver as soon as the room becomes blanketed with an impermeable darkness that differs from before. It is a darkness which Charizard's lit tail and the light from your torch cannot even penetrate. You add, "Usually in these cases, there are lackeys and the mastermind. In this case, the mastermind is the strongest pokemon here."

Leon looks around cautiously, hoping to catch sight of who or what and Charizard moves to stand in front of the two of you but then you're picked up by the invisible assailant once more, the neck of your coat pulled and tugged and as quickly as you are lifted in the air, you're hastily flung to the other side of the room a second time. On this occasion, Leon grabs onto you by throwing his arms around your waist and you both end up crashing against the wall.

You hear a loud 'crack' and gasp as your pocket radio comes tumbling from your bag and smashes against the floor, having slipped through the opening of your bag which you hadn't zipped up properly.

The radio is broken.

"Shit!" you can't help but curse, "Not again!"

Amused by your anger, the culprit finally reveals itself: a pair of piercing red eyes and a wide, grinning mouth appears in mid-air, snickering sinisterly at your misfortune.

"Charizard, use Flamethrower!" Leon commands, and the flame pokemon obliges, hurtling a huge ball of flame at the pokemon.

The attack misses its target as the pokemon disappears into the darkness for a fraction before it reappears once more. It's murky black and large, with a round body and two stubby arms and legs and spiked head and tail: a Gengar.

For a Gengar, it's bigger than you and Leon had anticipated, compared to the pokedex entries anyway. It's at least the same height as Charizard. It fully manifests before you, rolling around the air with laughter.

"This isn’t funny!" you yell, but it merely sniggers even louder before sticking its long tongue at you and waving its arms together, conjuring a large ball of swirling dark energy which it effortlessly tosses at your group.

Whilst Charizard retaliates with another attack, Leon grabs you and you both go rolling to the side, safe from the attack.

"Thanks, Leon.”

"No problem," he replies as he helps you up. You appreciate how quickly he thinks and reacts to situations like these.

Gengar cackles wildly, holding his tummy as he spins around in the air before his red eyes begin to glow brightly. A ball of white light the size of a golf ball is conjured and with a wave of his finger, he unleashes it towards Charizard's direction, letting it bob along in the air.

It's a Confuse Ray and Charizard dodges though the Confuse Ray chases after him for a moment or so and Leon commands him to use Fire Blast.

Although Gengar is fast enough to evade, Charizard's attack has wide coverage and slams into Gengar in seconds; the ghost pokemon is repelled in mid-air, eyes clenched shut with agony before it ultimately crashes to the floor.

Remembering his promise to you, Leon pulls an empty Ultra Ball out from his pockets.

With expert flair, he twists and turns his body back and executes a perfect throw at Gengar. You can tell from how he threw the ball that he has done this many times and has mastered the technique of ball-throwing and the Ultra Ball smacks Gengar right in the face and the critter is sucked into the capsule in a ball of red light. The ball lands on the floor, rolling.

"That looked painful," you murmur, and Leon grins sheepishly at you.

The capsule wobbles once, twice, then it promptly bursts and Gengar re-emerges. Having evaded capture, the pokemon abruptly sinks into the floorboards and disappears from sight and the room returns to silence.

"Let's go after him," Leon suggests, and you nod in agreement.

Your group leave the room, heading down the corridor and though you thought there was nothing else here, there is actually a small set of stairs that lead to the second floor. It's the only way forwards so you head up where a couple of Litwicks, Lampents, Chandelure and Misdreavus sit or hover on the banister and watch curiously as you make your way up. Each step creaks under your feet loudly and your group reach the landing where another long, foreboding and dark stretch of corridor greets you, lined with numerous doors on either side and a few cupboards.

Whilst you wonder where Gengar could have gone, it's then you hear an unfamiliar voice belonging to a male:

"Gengar, you are hurt. Who did this to you?"

Various chills run down your spine once more.

"Leon, did you hear that?" you whisper.

"Hear what?"

It's close but there are so many rooms. You could try and split up but according to every horror movie you have seen in your lifetime, splitting up is a terrible idea. Thus your group pass each door one by one only to discover they are locked or boarded up which does not surprise you. The Misdreavus and other ghost pokemon begin to follow you around though they are more interested in watching than assisting.

You are almost halfway through the corridor and up ahead, it seems to split into a T shape until Leon informs you he has found something and would like some more light; returning to his side, you shine the torch to where he is gesturing to where you see a Zorua ducking away from sight, hiding under a rickety cupboard. It yelps weakly and Leon approaches it carefully.

"It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you," Leon says as he moves to kneel on one foot in front of it.

The Zorua stares at Leon with its large teal eyes for a few seconds or so until it slowly crawls out. It's been burned. No doubt, from Charizard.

"I think that's the old man," you say, remembering how you found black fur in the room downstairs.

Charizard snorts apologetically in response but Zorua is too weak to react. The Burn Heal comes in handy now as Leon rummages in his backpack to find the item and proceeds to spray it over the singed fur of the weakened pokemon.

"There you go, that should make you feel better," Leon mutters with a warm smile.

He should be surrounded by talking and singing woodland animals, you think to yourself.

You watch the display before the forceful thump of your heart beating against your ribs makes you snap out of your thoughts and you smile awkwardly at Leon as he glances up at you with a heart-wrenching grin. You swallow down the thick lump in your throat as the thrum of your pulse soars to an astronomical rate.

Leon returns to tend to the Zorua with much gentleness and care that would put a well-trained nurse to shame, pulling out some Pecha berries contained in a medium-sized ziplock bag and handing them to the Pokemon. As Leon lowers his hand with the berries in his palm, it lunges for one and gobbles it happily.

"Who's there?"

The disembodied voice draws your attention once more so you continue down the dark corridor on your own, attempting to locate the source whilst Leon tends to the Zorua. You can hear him chuckling as Zorua licks his fingers.

As you search, you eventually narrow the source of the voice to a door up ahead which is open.

It's a master bedroom; there is a king-sized bed that sits in the very middle and a couple of undistinguished furniture covered in white drapes. Resembling the room and corridor downstairs, it is in impeccable condition and you see it is devoid of any individual.

You can still hear Leon and Zorua in the corridor.

Stepping inside, you immediately catch sight of the massive portrait hanging on the wall that portrays a middle-aged man with bushy brown hair and a stout but kind face, dressed in a royal blue waistcoat with brass buttons, matching white pantaloons and riding boots. Beside him, a Ghastly hovers near his arm and a Zoroark stands to his left.

There is a rusted plaque on the bottom that says 'In Loving Memory of'. The rest is too faded; you cannot make out the name.

Although you saw a contorted, twisted-looking old man downstairs, you are certain this man featured in this portrait is the basis for the old man.

"Leon, I found something," you say aloud as you shine the torch up at the portrait though you do not receive a reply, "Leon?"

You stay still, listening.

It's...silent.

You leave the room abruptly and return to the corridor, only to realise that Leon, Charizard and the Zorua are nowhere to be seen. You shine the torch down the corridor and towards the direction of the stairs, the long reach of light touching the walls.

"Leon? Charizard??"

They're gone.

You are on your own.

You begin your search, trekking down the long hallway and returning to where you had found Zorua. There is nothing here, no traces.

They have simply vanished.

There are two doors on your left and right. You try the left door but it's locked so you head for the right, muttering a curse under your breath as you hope they're not playing a horrid prank on you. You do not believe Leon has a mean bone in his body to do such a thing, however.

"I'm too old for this shit," you murmur under your breath.

You remember why you work alone; you're used to investigating terrifying places on your lonesome but since you had arrived with two companions and suddenly having them disappear on you, literally vanishing into thin air, has made you uncomfortable even though it could be Gengar pulling the strings.

"Become a Pokemon Researcher, they said. It'll be fun, they said," you groan with frustration as you try the door only to discover it is also locked, "Gengar, show yourself. I know it's you. What did you do to them?"

A faint, scratching noise grabs your attention and you spin sharply on your heels to the locked door to the left.

"...Gengar?"

The scratching intensifies and you stand in your little spot, waiting with baited breath as the door clicks on its latch and the handle pushes down, the door slowly creaking open, revealing a long and pale hand. Bony fingers begin slinking through the small gap and pushes the door a fraction, followed by a pale white face with sunken black eyes.

You freeze, your blood turning cold.

Not Gengar. Can't be Gengar. Different. This is stronger. Darker.

Your eyes grow wide.

Evil.

You can’t help it; your first instinct is to run which you do. You turn away, heartbeat speeding up, pulse racing, palms growing sweaty. A dull ache makes its presence known in your head and your vision begins to blur, nausea hitting the pit of your gut; however, you force your legs to move and you head down the corridor as quickly as your feet can carry you, your breath shortening as the apparition behind you begins to follow.

Client was right. Not a Pokemon.

You dash into one of the rooms, flinging the door open and rushing in, slamming the door shut. You grab a black marker from your bag and pull off the lid, hastily drawing a protective symbol on the surface before you press your back against the door.

A hushed silence sweeps over which you find calming and you hold your breath, glancing at the room you have holed yourself up in.

It is empty, with no sign of anything or anyone.

Suddenly, there is a violent slam on the door which makes you squeeze your eyes shut as the door begins to shake, the handle rattling furiously. Digging your heels into the ground, you hold the door shut as much as possible, biting down on your lip as the door trembles viciously under the weight of the force outside that is trying to force its way in.

You do everything in your power to hold the door shut, not to let it in, but it's too strong and you believe you will not be able to hold it for much longer and soon the door will give in.

What next? Salt circle, good luck charm, earth crystal, iron??

Those choices seem laughable until you realise you had forgotten one important thing.

The Odd Keystone.

It's then you see a familiar stretch of shadow at your feet and you glance up.

"Gengar?"

He stands near the window, looking at you, then at the door, which thumps and quakes behind your back with tremendous strength.

The pounding on the door continues until one mighty push sends your heels scraping one inch out of your spot and you gasp as you're forced to throw your right shoulder against the wood with your hands splayed over the surface. You attempt to renew your strength, shifting and leaning your entire body weight on your right foot, pushing down and pressing your entire body against the door.

"Gengar, help me! Grab the Odd Keystone from my bag!!" you exclaim, even though it has absolutely no obligation to assist you in any way, "It's uh...it's a brown stone, smooth to touch. You'll know it when you see it!"

Gengar looks at you in mild disbelief before it floats towards you and glances at your bag, then sticks its hands inside and rummages inside before it lifts out the item you had described.

"Yessss, thank you!" you gush, "Put it on the floor in the middle of the room."

He does as he is told, funnily enough, and looks up at you for the next instruction.

"Now I'm gonna let go of this door. Stay away from the stone, okay?"

He nods.

Swallowing the thick lump in your throat, you throw yourself from the door and it slams open.

A cold rush of air bursts in and you close your eyes as you hurriedly chant under your breath, "Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium."

The keystone begins quivering so you continue, a bright light emitting from the fissure.

"Imperet illi deus, supplices deprecamur tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude.”

It's a mouthful but an ear-splitting shriek tears through the atmosphere when you finish your chant and as you open your eyes, you see a shadow convulsing and writhing furiously in the air as it is enveloped by the bright light. Unable to break free, the light proceeds to drag it towards the keystone though it resists fiercely and attempts to escape. In a matter of seconds, it is promptly sucked into the keystone and the fissure stops glowing, the stone goes limp and slumps to one side and the room returns to darkness.

Gengar stares before it looks at you, confounded.

Your legs are trembling.

It takes a while for you to calm down.

You decide to wait it out for a few seconds or so before you slowly move to stand.

"...It worked."

Gengar looks at you questioningly as you pick up the Odd Keystone off the floor and hold it up to the air and into the moonlight. You give it a little shake and muffled but horrific shrieking can be heard emitting within. Slipping it into your bag and zipping it up properly, you give it a hefty pat.

"Phew, that's another evil spirit for the collection, and all in a night's work too. If I get up to one hundred and eight, I'll have myself a Spiritomb," you add, nodding to yourself. Turning to Gengar, you say, "Thanks for your help."

Gengar's jaw drops slightly as you murmur a quick prayer to purify the room, then you begin to exit and Gengar follows you keenly.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He looks at you somewhat wistfully, clasping his hands together.

”...You...want to come with me?”

He nods furiously.

”...Really?” you cannot mask the astonishment in your voice, “...But isn’t this your home? And what about your master? Will the rest of the Pokemon be okay without you? What about Zorua?”

He nods again but slowly slides his glance to the side, then he pushes himself off the ground to float in the air, circling you wildly and throwing several dark energy balls into nothingness.

"Oh...that's...wow, I've never had any pokemon say they want to come with me, t-thanks, I'm...I'm honoured. I know you want to fight evil, but I don't do this often. This is just a one off."

He grins anyway.

"Alright then, you can come with me. Let's go find Leon and Charizard for now."

You close the door behind you with Gengar happily floating by your side and when you turn round, dark shadows pop up in front of you and you yelp and stumble backwards, almost falling onto your rear if he didn't grab your arm in time.

"Hey!! Are you alright??"

The Champion stands before you with Charizard and Zorua.

"Leon!" you exclaim.

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around him tightly for you are so relieved to see him, eyes curling with happiness as an overwhelming sensation of solace blooms in your chest. You revel in his warmth and the sound of his beating heart which pace matches yours, relieved to be able to hold onto another living and breathing human being.

Taken aback by your hug, Leon grows still whilst Charizard gawks.

You let go of him when you notice how rigid he has become. You must have made him uncomfortable so you are quick to retreat. "Um, s-sorry. So, uh...Where did you and Charizard run off to?"

"Huh? We were looking all over for you. You disappeared."

"...Sorry."

"Never mind, it's fine, I'm just glad we've found each other again so everything's good," Leon says with a grin before he spots Gengar by your side. "What happened?"

"I'll fill you in," you say with a smile, "Let's get outta here first."

...

#jeralee #comfort in despair #fanfic #fic #leon x reader #leon #dande #reader #reader insert #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonoc #pokemonsword #pokemonshieldsword #archiveofmyown

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jksangelic · 6 years ago

Text

peaches & piercings (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: punk!jimin, e2l, college au, very explicit smut, one-shot, jimin is a whole asshole

↳ pairing: cheerleader!reader x punk!jimin

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, sub/dom themes, casual sex, be t r ay a l, alcohol (and weed? idk) consumption, oral sex (male receiving), squirting, thigh-fucking, kind of exhibitionism?, jimin is pierced (that’s all i’ll say), just expect the worst from me tbh

↳ summary: jimin, dipped in hair-dye and pierced in so many places that you just couldn’t keep track, doesn’t think you’re his “type”. you call bullshit.

�� note: i reallyreallyreally hated this fic. loved the idea, hated how i wrote it. i’ve had this bad boy sitting in my archives for months and months and months and couldn’t gather the courage to post it until NOW! partially because this is an apology fic for my inactivity and more so because i just think i’ve read it too many times that at this point, i’m just being nit-picky and need to move on.

a special thanks to the lovely @14statelier whomst unwillingly received dong pics for the sake of this fic. i’m so glad i found someone as sweet as you to beta for me + become an even better galpal! love u always xx

also thanks to my gal @jungshookz, i’m pretty sure (78% positive) i sent her my idea via snapchat and was probably inspired by her in some way, per usual.

OKAY i’m done you can read now hehehe

↳ words: 11.6k

↳ parts: one | two (complete)

“Jungkook, if you’re not going to throw it then get your grabby hands off my waist,” you warn, eyeing him as he stands behind you and delays in one-manning you into an extension or ogling your ass in your skirt.

“You’re just so wobbly today, I’m waiting for you to chill out a bit,” he lies with a smirk. You smack his hand but exhale deeply as you firmly grasp his wrists and count.

“1, 2!” With mutual timing, Jungkook dips down with you before heaving your body above, squatting to catch your heels mid-air, and pumping back up into an extended position. He’s right, you wobble a bit, calling out, “Bail!” and feeling his hands disappear beneath to re-catch your thighs and bring you down safely on your toes. You curse silently under your breath but pat Jungkook’s shoulder as a symbolic “thank you”.

“It’s too fucking early for this, I’m tired,” you say, only making excuses for yourself.

“Well, liven up. The doors are going to open soon and no freshmen want to join a failure of a cheer team.”

“Hey, stop bickering,” the captain, Suzy, orders, “Y/N, you’re fine to just handle the flyers, I’ll stunt with Jungkook.” You squish her into an exhausted hug.

“This is why you’re captain,” you coo.

With that, some of the staff open the gym doors, welcoming an intimidatingly large group of people in with smiles. You fake one yourself, ready to get this over with as soon as possible so you can go back to your dorm and sleep. Within ten minutes, you had a group of girls and a handful of brawny guys already watching Suzy and Jungkook’s exhibition, a mixture of oohs and ahs being rewarded. You handed each of them a thin, poorly-made flyer with pixelated clipart of a girl doing a toe-touch before they scrambled.

After a while, most of the initial commotion dies down and you people-watch each clueless face, thinking how adorable they are, so young and so lost, as if it weren’t you only a few months ago. You’re only a sophomore, but in your head that gives you enough authority to judge the freshmen.

You snap out of your daze upon boots clicking in the distance, soon revealing a man seemingly darting through the crowds to exit across the other side. You would’ve ignored him if it wasn’t for his peachy-tinted hair, long and slicked back atop and close-shaven near his neck, his thin but fit stature dressed in all-black, and the glint of metal, that you soon realized was a septum piercing, in his nose. He has a dark sleeve consuming his right arm and you wonder what eighteen or nineteen year old has a fully-developed sleeve.

Although his eyes were covered with chunky black sunglasses (in the gym, at that), the rest of his appearance sent your pierced-and-tatted-hot-boy alarm berserk. Suddenly awake, you wait for him to head closer to your booth before hopping next to him.

“Hi there, freshie. Care to take a tryout flyer for this year’s cheer team?” you ask with a pitch that’s much higher than your own, kindly handing him one of the shitty-looking papers. He mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch but speaks before you can ask him to clarify.

“Not a freshman. Do I look like someone who cheers? I’m just looking for the counseling center to turn in my transfer papers.

“Also, can you, like, give me some personal space?” he continues in a mock valley-girl tone.

You jump back, completely caught off guard with his sudden hostility and attempting to regain your composure by clearing your throat. Someone must’ve shoved a stick up his ass this morning.

“Oh, uh, sorry. Once you leave the gym, you head right, pass two sets of restrooms, head left, and it’s behind the big statue where the foyer is.” Your voice sounds much better.

His eyebrows rocket upwards over his glasses, completely frazzled by the number of directions you gave him, “Shit, okay. That’s a lot.”

“Here, I’ll just walk you,” you say, not giving him any time for him to probably decline. You don’t even question if he’s following you or not, the obvious clunkclunkclunk of his boots giving it away.

Unsurprisingly, the man doesn’t try to talk to you on the way to the counseling center. At most, he walks side-by-side, at least three meters between you for good measure. And even though it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk, you ring him out a little more anyway.

“So, you’re not a freshman. Underclassman or upperclassman? And you’re a transfer? From where?”

Pass two sets of restrooms and head left.

“Senior. From Busan.” He doesn’t even show a hint of feeling. Emotion. Does this guy even breathe?

Straight until the statue in the foyer.

“Great. Well, it was nice to meet you, senior from Busan. I’m Y/N. If you ever need help or anything, feel free to ask me,” you deadpan, swiveling on your feet to salute him.

He leans on one hip, taking a hand with an incredible amount of rings on it and pushing his sunglasses over his hair like a headband. You certainly weren’t expecting a reveal of the kindest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. He almost looks permanently sleepy—eyes drooping flat on the lid. Your trance distracted you from his brief once-over, unpredictably impressed by your looks, if he had to admit it.

“It’s Jimin. Jimin, senior from Busan. See you around, cheerleader,” he says with a sly tilt of his lips before swinging the door open and slithering into the office. Past all the glitter and bright colors that poured out of that hideous uniform of yours, Jimin found you really cute.

Jimin waits patiently for the front desk to call him up, lounging in one of the hard, black plastic chairs that never failed to give his ass cramps. Though he didn’t seem like it to new faces around the campus, he was ecstatic to be starting college again in a whole new atmosphere. He even got to room with another male originally from Korea, Min Yoongi, in a small condo not too far a walk from the area.

He could even prospect cuties like you during his year, undoubtedly positive he could busy himself judging by the attention he’s attracted so far. All it would take is a hungry stare, a lick of his lips, an all-knowing smirk. It was easier here than it was back home, if not child’s play. He could have you in three hours flat. But then he thinks of you choosing the obnoxious cliché of college cheerleader and cringes at the idea of associating himself with such… American-ness. He could at least go for some sort of indifferent, grunge hipster that might actually have some thought to her. Yeah, more his style.

The woman at the front finally calls for him, so he arranges his papers and shoos away any daydream of hooking up with the girl in a tight skirt and ankle socks.

Taking the long route back to the gym, your imagination sputters through all the possible reasons why you should hate that guy, bad-guy radar ringing and shrieking and threatening to punch you square in the eye if you even think about it. Eventually, it comes to the conclusion that he was just new, he was probably having a rough moving-in, and you shouldn’t judge a transfer by their hair. Book by its binding? You don’t really remember how the saying goes in this situation.

“Hey, good job on snaking yourself out of flyer duty. What, did you bang Asian Hot Topic on your way?” Jungkook snickers.

“And did Cait break up with you because you can’t dom for shit? Hand me my jacket.”

He guffaws, practically throwing the clothing at your face, “We didn’t break up, asswipe. How am I supposed to act when she suddenly calls me ‘daddy’ without previous warning? I’m not ready to be a father.”

“Kook, you’re dumb as shit. Maybe I should bang Asian Hot Topic and give you pointers of how a real dom works their magic.”

Jungkook crosses his arms in denial, “Pfft, you don’t even know him. He could be a receiver for all you know.”

One, two, three seconds. You both chortle at the impracticality.

You take one final look in the body mirror, adjusting the slinky grey dress and hanging an oversized burnt-orange corduroy jacket over your shoulders for that final touch of unnecessary, but fashionably-adept, garnish to your outfit cupcake. Not having enough time to do your hair, you sweep it over to one side and leave it as is.

“You look fine and you’re ten minutes late so get out already,” your roommate, Sara, whines. She practically pushes you out, slamming and locking the door for emphasis.

Waving off your discombobulated roommate, you start your trek to the humanities building (which is so far away) with a skip in your step. A new school year meant new people, new classes, more lunchtimes with subpar food and occasional parties that could potentially lead to you getting arrested. Who knows!

A new school year, however, didn’t mean that you would know your way to your new class apparently. Bummer.

It’s only by your fourth circle and a glance at your phone that you panic, fifteen minutes somehow passing in the midst of your scrambling. Pace quickening, you pull out your paper with sloppily written notes of what class room number was at which time, simultaneously half-jogging past classrooms and—

“Oof!”

You land straight on your ass.

“Ow, watch where you’re going stu—oh, it’s you.”

You look up groggily, pain stinging through your legs from the brunt of your fall and lazily making eye contact with a pair of puppy dog eyes. Jimin stands above you, rubbing his chin where, you suppose, your forehead made rough contact with and indiscreetly staring at your bright blue panties where your dress failed to cover.

Hopping up and dusting yourself off, you pick up your fallen bag and paper before glaring at him, “Sorry, I got lost and wasn’t paying attention.”

He scoffs, “Aren’t you the cheerleader? You’re supposed to be, like, the girl scout of the school, right? You shouldn’t be lost.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, well. I am,” you mutter to yourself, “I don’t even think there’s a 207 in this building…”

“Oh, 207? Intro to psych, right? That’s where I’m going too,” he admits, eyes blown wide. Welp, certainly not the highlight of your morning.

“Great. By the looks of the current time, we’re both lost and,” you wave around the empty corridor, “there’s no one who’s going to help us.”

“I’m not lost. I just woke up late,” he answers nonchalantly, a warm glow to his face like he couldn’t give two damns about his class.

“W-What? Then let’s go! Where is it?”

Jimin twirls and walks a different direction, mumbling, “I’m not your escort, rich girl.”

You prattle at his comment but follow him anyway. When you find the correct lecture hall, you groan at the fact that you already passed it several times. He opens the door quietly, not even bothering to hold it for you as you scramble to catch it. A couple of the back rows look back at you two, annoyed by the minor inconvenience.

“Well. Welcome to my 10AM psychology class at,” the professor booms through the hall and peeks at his wristwatch, “10:36. Go ahead and take these two free seats.”

Jimin shrugs and walks towards the front of the room, a quiet and embarrassed you tiptoeing behind him. Being this late and having to sit next to this ass wasn’t how you wanted your first day to go at all.

For the remainder of the 24 minutes until the first break, you skim over the contents that you missed in the syllabus and want to ram your head into the closest wall. Participation and attendance by themselves are 30% of your grade, homework and assignments (thank god) being a measly 20%, and the final plus tests and quizzes a hunking remainder of 50%. What even was this system?

During your ten minute break, you silently scroll through your phone notifications, setting it down irritatingly when the hall refused to grant you enough service to respond to any of them.

“Don’t have LTE, princess? Might as well watch paint dry without your phone to entertain you,” Jimin snickers beside you. You scowl menacingly at him and he giggles more.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but back off, Jimin. Sorry I don’t, like, play the electric guitar in my free time or whatever.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, still smiling and blowing bubbles with his gum, popping them quite obnoxiously, and quite intentionally.

“What, do you think I play the electric guitar? Are you stereotyping me as some sort of garage band drop-out punk?” he jesters.

“And do you take me for some sort of pink fuzzy consumerist? You don’t know me. Buzz off.”

Jimin had definitely tucked you into his mental folder of “tough gals”; his aloof tactic of flirting not seeming to penetrate that pretty skull of yours. He could just take the path of least resistance and approach you normally, but where was the fun in that? You were too interesting a specimen to just use-and-discard.

Jimin suddenly thinks you look attractive with furrowed brows and pouted lips. It was most definitely working for you, so he lets it slide for now. When class ends, you all but bolt before Jimin can even look your way, sure he’d find another surface flaw to pick at.

You suddenly think of what all of the adults in your life have said during your upbringing: people that went out of their way to bully you were either jealous or had an embarrassingly crushing “thing” for you. Jimin, on the other hand, was just annoying.

Of course, to your dismay, class isn’t the only time you ever saw him. You weren’t totally stupid. The campus didn’t stretch for miles and you were bound to see him sometime and have to deal with the efforts of avoiding the man at all costs but fuck were you praying to whoever controls your Sim above that they would grant you some mercy.

“Just tell him to fuck off if he’s so far up your ass,” Jungkook argues, crushing his juice box in one gulp and biting his massive cafeteria burrito.

“You don’t get it, Kook. I have. So many times, in so many different instances. Did I tell you about the time I thought he was helping me get a textbook from a tall shelf but he ended up taking that last one for himself?” You angrily rip a bite from your limp sandwich. You really did hate Turkey Thursdays.

“Eh, first come, first serve. Maybe he didn’t know you were trying to grab that one.”

“My ass, Jungkook. He claimed that if I really wanted it, I would ‘do something in fair exchange’ for it. I’m not looking to going into prostitution anytime soon.”

“Respect sex workers,” Jungkook criticizes.

“Oh, no, totally. Sex work just isn’t my forte.” Kook shrugs.

“Okay,” you continue, “how about the time I went to IKEA to buy that ceiling lamp and was obviously struggling to one-trip everything from my car? The dumbfuck passed by and asked if I needed help, so I was like, ‘Yeah! Sure, it would definitely make up for the time you asked for sex in lieu of my psych book,’ but instead of helping me carry anything he took my coffee, drank some, and left.” Jungkook starts a rebuttal but you cut him off short, “Then he showed up to my work the other day, god knows how he even saw me in there, and started taking a video of me when I wasn’t paying attention!”

“What the hell,” your friend sports a face of disgust, “like, he’s stalking you?”

You scratch the back of your neck, “Well, not exactly? I think he was just maybe—see, A$AP Rocky may or may have not been playing on the speakers, and I didn’t know anyone was in the shop! So. I don’t know. I started—”

“Started rapping with a rolled up poster as your microphone,” he deadpans. Finishing your horrid sandwich, you crumple the saran wrap and chuck it at his eye, satisfied when we wails exaggeratingly.

“Maybe that’s just his way of flirting with you, he’ll get bored eventually.”

“I think he just hates my guts and thinks of me as an equal to the gum under his thick, goth boots,” you mumble.

“Does it matter? So what if Danny Phantom doesn’t like you?”

“He’s causing a problem though. Besides, everyone cares if someone doesn’t like them. It’s bullshit if they tell you otherwise; bullshit or a lack of sympathy.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Because I’m totally your friend and all but I don’t necessarily want to hear about your boy problems all the time.” You harrumph at his negligence and slump back into your seat.

There really wasn’t anything you could do about it; it wasn’t bad enough to the point of distressing tyranny. You simply couldn’t befriend the guy, it was obvious he didn’t want that. You would just have to pray to all things good that he would eventually lose interest, stop harassing you out of kindness, or have a change of heart and treat you like the saint you were.

If only it were that easy.

Sylly-week kicked ass, to say the least. Even two days prior the hectic week from hell, your body aches from partying while your wallet cries from all the textbooks and supplies you paid for.

Sara slept beside you, forehead stuck to the desk with her laptop stuck on some sort of half-assed document and you couldn’t fathom a better picture to represent college.

Although it was already around 11, you hop out of bed and throw on your windbreaker from cheer and some spandex, shuffling into a pair of your sneakers and bolting out of your room with your bag. The amount of sodium and sugar you consumed from Cup-O-Noodles and off-brand cookie dough bites made you feel disgusting, and you know running a quick mile at the gym would get your blood pumping enough to make you: 1) feel better about yourself and 2) put your ass to sleep.

The walk is short, the air still a little heavy with heat but cool enough for you to be comfortable in a long-sleeve. Some tired students exit the library, really the only other people you see at this hour. You would’ve thought it creepy if the campus wasn’t so well-lit and played background music through the announcement speakers. If you died or got kidnapped, at least it was to some groovy jazz.

You swipe your card across the sensor beside the athletic building door, waiting for that subtle beep before the gears clank and allow you to heave the door open. Immediately, the smell of sweat poorly masked with air freshener fill your nostrils and your adrenaline builds. You’re no body builder, but a run certainly sounded nice right about now.

You practically skip through the halls, rounding a corner to enter the weight room before you stop in your tracks to see someone in the room across. You squint suspiciously, peachy hair striking a very strong familiarity to…

“Jimin?” you whisper to yourself. You shouldn’t be surprised that he’s at the gym, but you are because he isn’t. He’s in the dance studio. Before you bolt, your eyes glue to his sensual movements, legs gliding across the floor and body free-flowing alongside the bass-filled music. No previous bias could deny that he looks like an angel in his room, dancing smooth as meringue and practically skating across the floor despite those clunky black boots of his; and powerful, hitting every note and beat with intention and vigor. You’ve never seen anyone dance like this.

After a few seconds, you render that you’re spying on him and continue walking, nervously scuffing your sneakers down the linoleum and immediately, and unfortunately, catching his attention.

He first sees you in the mirror. Ignores you. Then realizes it’s you and turns into the most ungraceful bag-of-bones as he scurries to pause the music and chases you down the hall.

“Hey!” he yells, grabbing your elbow.

“Don’t touch me,” you strike back, jerking your elbow out of his grasp and staring him down.

He looks apologetic, genuinely worried for a second before he breathes deep and tries again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. Um, why are you here?”

“Um, because I can be? I was going to go to the gym, dickwad.”

It takes all of his patience not to insult you, “Okay. You’re right. Were you… were you watching me?”

You give him a sickeningly-sweet smile, “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just passing by.”

He nods solemnly, straightening his tank as if it wasn’t already wrinkled and damp with sweat, “Okay. Okay, cool.” He starts to turn before he keeps going in a 360.

“Can you keep this between me and you? That I was here? That I was here and I was—”

“Dancing?” you ask quizzically, “Why does it matter?”

His eyebrows stitch together in frustration, “Y/N, do I look like I’m a dancer?” He gestures to his piercings and his sleeve, waving his hands about in so many different places that your lewd curiosity wonders what he looks like naked—for the sake of knowing how many piercings and tattoos he has though, obviously.

“I think you look like a dancer. Just not a contemporary dancer. Did you take ballet?” you half-tease, crossing your arms and beaming slyly at him.

Jimin huffs, impatient, “Will you just keep it locked somewhere in that airhead of yours?”

“What’s in it for me, Jiminie,” you pout, “what do I get as reward for keeping your secret?”

He falters a moment, licking his plump lips and walking dangerously close, “You want a reward? I don’t take you as that kind of girl, Y/N.”

He must be delirious, eyeing him so and shoving him away, “Ew, no. I just meant, like, be nice to me from now on. And help me with psychology. That class is nothing but a memory test.”

He blinks dumbly from your rejection; who ever rejected him? He waves it off.

“Okay. I can be compliant. I won’t treat you like the rich bitch you are, and I tutor you on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Deal?”

“I’m not a rich bitch. I have student loans like the rest of the student population, thank you very much. Deal.”

You smile at each other devilishly, ready to part ways before bursting out with an instant, “Wait!”

Jimin looks over his shoulder curiously. Damn, you could really see how toned his shoulders were in that shirt.

“There’re dance majors here, is that what you transferred for?”

He turns all the way, leaning sideways against the wall and sighing, “Honestly, yes. But my family thinks I’m transferring to finish my business degree and that I would have better opportunities here. I really did it because there’s some great studios in the area but—” he catches himself rambling, “I don’t know how they would feel about my grand decision.”

You shrug, “You’re a great dancer, Jimin. Honestly, you could open your own studio here if you wanted to. You do have great opportunities.”

His sleepy eyes stare you down, a half-smile drawing itself out before he can take it back. “Give me your phone,” he orders.

You don’t know why but you do.

He dials into it with his overly-accessorized fingers, giving you a moment to get a closer look at his septum and the abundance of ear-piercings he sports before he hands it back. You’re pretty sure one of them is Gucci and you bite back a chuckle. Rich bitch.

“That’s my number. Text me when you’re free on study days.”

And with that, he re-enters his room and resumes the music.

The first time Park Jimin meets with you at a Starbucks on a Tuesday, like he instructed, you thought you somehow managed to get yourself stuck in the Twilight Zone.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. My last class ends at 3 on both days and there’s already a quiz this Friday. Help.”

You sent the text without emojis. He didn’t deserve any.

You had barely got to Instagram before he texted you back. With multiple messages.

“u text like a gramma”

“but ok”

“starbucks at 330? i’ll buy”

You giggled to yourself at his joke, sending a single “(:” and putting your phone to sleep.

To your disbelief, he really did buy you a cheese danish and a tall, iced, caramel macchiato. You sip it gingerly while he pulls his things out of his bag: a couple mechanical pencils (the industrial, expensive ones), a 1-inch binder organized by subject with dividers, and notecards. You grab them and hold them up like it’s evidence from a leading murder case.

“Notecards? You are way too organized and functional.”

He snags your pastry before you can grab it and takes a huge bite, “Yeah, but ih’s gonna het you a bedder ghrade.”

Whining, you get it back after his second bite, somehow only half remaining.

“Okay. Let’s get started. It should only be a vocab check because that’s really all he’s asked us to study so far. We’ll start with my wonderful notecards,” he waves them in the air for effect, “and see which ones you do and don’t know.”

You nod, waiting for the chaos to begin. Who were you to tell him that you haven’t actually studied any of the vocab yet? He holds the first one up. Abductive reasoning.

“Uhh… is that like, something detectives use on kidnapping cases?”

“Wh-What? No. Well—are you thinking of ‘abductions’? Abductive reasoning is being able to use the two states of induction and deduction alongside your intuition to reach a conclusion,” he pauses and tilts his head a little, “ I guess the best analogy is giving out a verdict on a criminal case. Without being 100% sure, they use the evidence to tie together as many different points as they can to come to a conclusion. So, I mean, you got it wrong, but you can easily remember the definition with that.”

You’ll take what you get (majority of his reasoning went through one ear and out the other, anyway), wiggling your eyebrows in justified approval. Jimin laughs at you, eyes squinting to slits and shaking his head. He takes notice that you aren’t wearing much makeup today, your cheeks and the bridge of your nose a tad red with irritation and a bit dry where the sun burnt and eyes daintier without so much eyeliner on them. You threw on a tank and some workout shorts and look like the epitome of… comfortable, in your head. Jimin thinks you look effortless.

“Park?” you wave your hand in front of him.

He catches himself staring and jumps out of his seat, chair screeching across the tile.

“Sorry,” he coughs, “I’m going to take a whiz.” Stupid. He practically trips over himself to get to the restroom.

You watch him hurry to the back. He probably had much better things to do than help you study in the middle of the afternoon. A couple of younger girls watch him as he passes, giggling like a pack of fangirls and combing their hair out of their faces. If they only knew.

Did he even have a girlfriend? Most likely not, right? He only just transferred here and despite his well-endowed looks, he was still intimidating. Like a giant “don’t touch, I bite” sign constantly hung around his neck.

He comes back shortly, and before you can deduct that you would rather save the embarrassment than to quench your curiosity, you ask, “Are you dating anyone?”

“Because you get a lot of followers,” you reason, shamelessly pointing out the girls who ogle his tattooed biceps. They giggle again when he looks their way. God, so many giggles.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously and that intrigues you, “No, I’m not dating anyone. I think if it weren’t for my… accessories? And the fact that I’m foreign, girls wouldn’t like me as much.” You find tiny comfort that he’s single but squish the thought away.

“How ‘bout you? Dating that guy on your team?” he retorts.

“Who, Jungkook?” you snort, “No. He has a girlfriend and he’s all brawn over brain. I’m not dating anyone, actually. I don’t like guys that are so competitive to win females strictly for the points, and there’s a lot of that here. S’gross; we’re not animals.”

“We kinda are,” he argues, but smiles understandingly.

“Okay, but not in the way where your possible significant other has to perform an instinctual mating dance?”

He juts up an eyebrow, “Really? Because I could easily arrange that.”

For the first time, you both laugh. At the same thing. Who knew that Jimin could dance of all things? And pay for your food? And actually be a nice guy who’s really smart? Thinking about it, today has gone so polar-opposite of what you expected that you contemplate if this is Jimin’s identical twin that just happens to have the same piercings and ink that bully-Jimin has.

Twilight Zone.

“Okay, let’s continue,” he says, resuming the queue of notecards.

“Define abulia.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Jimin waved a hand in your face.

“Hm? Sorry, say it again.”

Jimin packed up his supplies, then grabs yours and tucks them into your bag, “I said, ‘Are we going to your place right now?’ You said you picked up Black Panther on DVD so I want to watch it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Cats and shit.”

You both stand up and stretch, the rest of the students in the lecture hall slowly filing out. Midterms were already approaching, which meant that you and Jimin had known each other for quite some time now. His tutoring was ditched weeks ago after you were finally comfortable with the material and able to comprehend what the professor was saying without Jimin to interpret. At first, meeting up stopped completely. You two would talk occasionally during class break and that’s all, and after a while, you just figured your deal was completed and Jimin finished his case and you both separated onto your different ways.

But then Jimin had asked if you wanted coffee at the same Starbucks you had first studied at, but for no specific reason. Just to hang out. So, you did.

Hanging out once or twice for coffee turned into twice getting lunch turned into four or five times lazing about your dorm, and now, you were just completely, wholesomely, friends. It was hard not to be on edge at the contrast of current Jimin to hell-on-earth Jimin, but you took what you could get.

“Is something on your mind? You’ve been spacing out for a long time,” he prods, taking your bag himself and throwing it over the same shoulder his own bag was on. The

walk to your dorm building was short but you could feel your feet dragging from sudden exhaustion.

“I think I’m just tired? I’m fine. Ready to Black Panther it up and all that jazz,” you chuckle. He takes the hint and resorts to quietly humming to your room rather than talking. That’s one thing you liked about him, he always knew when your mind just needed simple white noise.

Unlocking the door and jostling it out of its stickiness, you make a running jump to faceplant onto your bed. The mattress dips next to you when Jimin sits.

“I know you like cheer and all, but I think you need to take a break,” he says.

“Easier said than done. And I have mandatory captain conditioning in 3 hours,” you groan, propping your head on the palm of your hand to watch Jimin as he eats a stale bag of chips that he found on your nightstand. His face contorts in repulsion and throws the bag away.

“Okay, well, you’re not going. Tell them you’re sick. Let’s watch some DC movies and eat popcorn and have, like, a girl sleepover but I’m not a girl and I don’t want to spend the night,” he says, counting each point on his fingers.

“First of all, you lunatic, it’s Marvel not DC. Second, I don’t have popcorn. I can’t just skip conditioning because if I gain one pound Jungkook will sense it with his nose or something and attack me.”

“What,” he says in disbelief, grabbing your waist with one hand and squeezing a little, “you’re fine. You’re not going today and that’s final.” It’s not very often he touches you and as much as you try not to show it, you feel your face heat and mouth gape open and closed, ready to combust. You don’t particularly know why; guys touch you all the time (not in that way, thank you very much) but when it was Jimin, it was like you had been raised feral and failed to receive any means of human interaction.

He notices, taking his hand away as quick as he placed it and looking at the floor. Despite your lack of proper reaction, you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little twinge of disappointment. God, you’re so confusing to yourself.

“How about you? Your vampire ass won’t dance in sunlight so you must be tired too. How long do you normally dance for when you’re in the studio?”

“Well,” he lays flat on his back and stares at your popcorn ceiling (your dorm building was extremely outdated), “I try to workout at the actual gym in the morning before I get ready for class, and then I dance from 11 to whenever I feel is enough during the weeknights. That is, if no one’s there.”

“Why do you even follow this whole path of disliking mainstream trends and ‘rebelling against the world’? Isn’t that tiring? Aside from dance, do you, like, make your own skateboards and go to secret underground bars or something?” you tease. He rolls his head towards you in annoyance and mouths a “ha ha”.

“No, I just. I don’t know. I don’t like people telling me what to do or where to go or how to look,” he showcases his tatted arm. “This is all mine. I don’t want to be another puppet controlled my whole life to consume and work off a never-ending debt just so I can only live comfortably when I’m old but too old to actually live.”

“Wow, bro. That’s deep,” you pretend to smoke a pretzel stick. He continues anyway.

“Recently I made some friends that are in one of my labs. They’re from Korea too. If I’m not studying or working or hanging out with you, I’m probably with them. Partying or something,” he says, stealing away your “cigarette” and crunching on it loudly.

“Woah, you work? How do you find the time to do that?”

“Kinda. Nothing official, I just tutor people sometimes. Charge them by the hour and make some decent pocket change for food or whatever.”

You contemplate. How come he’s never charged you for your tutoring before? You ask him, studying his side profile and admiring his jawline when he talks. Flexing then easing; taut then relaxed.

“Because we had a deal. We agreed that I would help you in psych as long as you kept my secret, in which you did, so I figured that was good enough. Besides, you’re too cute to charge. I look like a bad boy but I’m not evil.” You giggle, resembling a middle-school fangirl and exaggerating a flattered stature.

Jimin laughs again, light and refreshing staccato notes that you could honestly listen to all day. It was therapeutic in its own crackhead way.

You’ve been unintentionally staring at him more and more often, Jimin finally taking notice within the last few minutes. He knew how to read a girl; how revealing they make themselves to impress him or how their eyes dim in any sort of suggestion that his hands should somehow find place on their body. But with you, he has no idea what that stare means. For the most part, you carry yourself so independently to the point of being standoffish and Jimin just can’t figure you out. He sought the day you would give in and beg for a night with him just like most of the other girls in his classes did, and when you didn’t, he wanted to know why. Not out of inflated ego or need to get into your pants—okay maybe because of that initially—but even more so that he just needed to dissect you. Know how to get you going, what kind of person you really are, which was completely different from what he originally imagined.

You were talking amidst his thoughts, not paying attention to the strings of sentences that fell out of your lips and before he knew it, he held himself directly above you, hands on each side of your head and staring right down into your disordered doe eyes.

“What makes you so different?” he asks aloud, more to himself than you. Puzzled and not under the impression that it was a rhetorical question, you shake your head.

“I don’t u-understand. What are you doing, Ji—”

He tucks a loose strand of yours out of your face, causing you to hiccup. “I feel like when I think I know you, I’m actually far from it.”

You don’t particularly know what you’re supposed to say to that.

“You didn’t ever need to get to know me. You just needed to make sure I kept your secret,” you play along. Knowing it wasn’t really the whole case, your own statement stings a little. If it weren’t to save his own ass, would he even be here right now?

Like he read your mind, he answers, “Why would I be here? I haven’t needed to help you in weeks. I’m with you all the time because I want to be. Because I—”

“Because you…?” you trail on, heart beating so hard you swear he can hear it. You wanted him to say it, maybe that’s what was keeping you from confirming your feelings. You needed validation; that this wasn’t just you or that this was some one-sided longing because you doubted someone like him could ever like someone like you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks instead, so hesitant and delicate and worrisome all in one question and you ponder if this is the same boy you first met at orientation.

“Please.”

He dips down slowly, eyes half-closed in anticipation of what your face looks like so close, pausing an inch away when you shut your own. You feel his warmth near your mouth, waiting for that first touch, any contact, until it seems like it’s been far too long. When you peek, you see nothing but his perfect… cheekbone? He stares, jaw stuck open and eyes fluttering, at the intruder in the door before swinging himself off the bed and coughing awkwardly.

“Oh, Sara. I didn’t know you were coming home so early today,” you squeak out. You sit up yourself, brushing off nonexistent dust from the bed and watching Jimin gather his things in a rush and squeezing past a concerned Sara in the doorway. He doesn’t even turn back, ears stinging red and peeping a quick, havetogotextyoulater. Great, the asshole left you to face your roommate alone.

“Was that Jimin? Park Jimin? The fucking transfer student?”

“Oh my god, Sara, what’re you freaking out about?”

Dropping her stuff in the middle of the room, she shrieks annoyingly and grabs your shoulders, “Are you seriously fucking with the Park Jimin? Y/N. Nuh-uh. No way. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Chill out! We’re just friends. He tutors me sometimes.” Not quite a lie.

She eyes you and deadpans, “Yeah, I didn’t know tutoring also included a one-on-one session of how to have sexual intercourse.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you remove her hands, which were digging crescents into your skin, and pretend to arrange your bed, “we haven’t even kissed. You just walked in at an inconvenient time.”

Sara sighs, rubbing her temples and sitting on your bed, “Look, babe. Just be careful. I’ve been to parties with him and have heard some awful things. Shit you expect from a movie where the girl gets fucked over because the guy doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants. I just want the best for you, okay? He’s not as sweet as you might think he is.”

He isn’t sweet at all, you said internally. But still, your heart clenches at her words. Sure, he acts like a dick, and you shouldn’t be surprised if he really does get around as much as Sara suspects; but there was just some sort of denial that lingered. If he really was such a player, why would he have stuck around with you for as long as he has, as platonic as it has been until now?

“I… I didn’t know that. I’ll be careful,” you assure her.

All it took was a squinty-eyed smile and a tiny caress to the small of your back on the way into the lecture hall for you to completely melt into his hands. You were simply putty, magically molding into some gross, odd-smelling ball of love just because of the almost-incident yesterday. You can practically feel the radiating disappointment from Sara if she knew how easily you gave yourself up for him.

His face reoccurs in your daydreams for days, all the way up until the weekend comes up from behind and smacks you on the ass.

“Focus,” Jungkook taps you through you skirt again. Oh, or maybe it was Jungkook.

The stadium speakers blared with announcements and you’re brought back to the world of clashing helmets, captain’s orders and Jungkook’s strong hands residing on your waist for partner stunts.

You didn’t need to be reminded, you were much more stable than you were weeks ago. He throws you in the air during the signaling note of the band and catches your right foot with ease above him, keeping you stable as you pull a heel stretch and present a pretty smile. The crowd roars along, inspiring the team and singing along with the cheers.

By the end of the game, you’re exhausted, tearing down paper signs from the concrete walls and shuffling your poms into your bag in a hurry.

“Hey, are you going to the feed after? Everyone’s going, I could give you a ride,” Jungkook offers, but you shake your head.

“I’m pretty beat. I’ll go next time.” He shrugs, finding more interest in catching up to someone who is interested than trying to convince you otherwise. By the time your clean-up is done, most of the fans are gone, the stadium a comparable difference of quiet than how it was only twenty minutes ago.

“You’re sure taking forever,” a sudden voice pipes up. Outside the gate stands Jimin, all-black tank and jeans, per usual. “You looked great out there.”

You smile, suddenly awake and jogging towards him, “What’re you doing here? I thought you didn’t like football.” During all your rushing do you realize that you relax around Park, time always seeming to slow down in his presence and you dissolve into his effect.

“I don’t. Such an American moneymaker. They’re all cons.” He takes your bag like he always does, leaning against the gate and looking excited, “Mind if we stop by my place? I have something to show you. It’s not far, probably only a 5 minute walk from here.”

You nod before he even mentions how long it takes to get there, heart palpitating at the thought that he’s inviting you over. You’re sure you smelled from cheer and you probably looked like the opposing team warmed up suicide runs over your sweaty body, but you nod.

“Were you here the whole time? Or just towards the end?” you ask, slightly insecure towards the fact that he could’ve been watching you cheer.

“Was here since halftime. Got Yoongs to watch with me at the gate where I was before for the most part. He left halfway through fourth quarter though, said he got tired from seeing others exert themselves so much,” he chuckles at the thought, eyes squinting and crooked tooth visible from the side. Your heart swooned, you were even starting to notice the little things. How he acted. His habits. What he did and didn’t like.

You were in fucking deep.

“I did get to see you cheer though,” he answers your unspoken inquiry, “you looked pretty, Y/N. It’s like watching a whole ‘nother person compared to how you act outside of uniform.” You’re still stuck on the word “pretty” and nod along like you’re listening.

“You should see how people look at you,” he draws on, “like they’re entranced. Even when you were just relaxing on the sideline, not doing anything, you stand out.”

“Oh my god, Jimin, where is this even coming from? One more compliment and the world might explode from the paradox you’re creating.”

He shoves your shoulder lightly, laughing at your tomato-red face, “What do you mean? I can’t compliment you?”

“No that’s not—I just mean. You know. You used to hate me and now you shower me with praise like I’m the best person in the world. It’s just crazy how much our relationship has changed. And… And yesterday—”

“Yo, can’t believe you really stayed for the rest of the game,” a raspy voice outbursts. You just realize that Jimin stopped you in front of a house, presumably his house, as a mint-haired ball sits on the porch. He inhales from his cigarette and exhales through his nose before throwing it underneath his boot.

“Hey, Yoongs. This is Y/N. Y/N, Min Yoongi, my roommate. Has a bad smoking habit and have only recently gotten him to smoke outside.” Jimin snickers, offering a hand to lift Yoongi off the step and welcome him into some bro-hug.

“You smoke too, bastard. Just did it ‘cause I knew you were bringing someone home tonight,” Yoongi retaliates, eyeing your figure. Shivers run down your spine at the comment.

Jimin coughs unexpectedly, then anxiously laughs as he pulls your arm behind him and into the house, “We’ll be in the living room. Go sleep or something.” Yoongi only clicks his tongue in response.

“Sorry,” he says once your inside, “he can be a little too personal sometimes. He’s really nice once you get to know him.” You shake your head, giving him a comforting smile that eases the tension in his shoulders.

He settles you on the couch, host-like politeness apparent when he asks if you want anything to drink, tells you where the bathroom is, and hands you the tv remote before disappearing to find his laptop. His home was cozy, minimalist furniture often in gray, black, and an occasional blue spread throughout the rooms. You weren’t sure if the boys were attempting to be modern or if college tuition only allowed them this sort of set-up, but nonetheless, it was way nicer than you expected.

“Back,” Jimin plops onto the couch right next to you, Apple laptop unlocked to a default background. He looks to you briefly before setting up some page on Google, “Have you signed up for your classes for next quarter yet?”

He looks different, your eyes scanning over his face to figure out just what it is, “Basically, just gotta confirm and pay and whatnot. Have you, Jimin?”

It’s his septum, you discover, that he’s taken out. He looks handsome either way. Propping the laptop suddenly on your lap, he beams, “Yeah, go ahead and take a look.”

You scroll through the page, humming to yourself, “Mhm… Mhm… Accounting, business 101, contemporary repertory… God, you’re going to hate sociology with Doyard, she’s a complete psycho!” You trail, giggling at his misfortune. Once you’re done, you meet his discontent face.

It takes a few takes from his face to the screen, back to his face, until oh shit!

“Wait does ‘contemporary repertory’ mean something important?” you squeal in rushed excitement. “Is that a dance thing? Are you taking a dance class here?” Before he can even explain, you shut the laptop and safely place it on the coffee table before tackling the man, withdrawing an oof from his lips.

“Easy, girl. Please don’t break me before I even get to show up on the first day.”

“Jimin, this is amazing. You’re finally doing something you want to do, during regular hours, at that!” You nuzzle into his warm chest, “I’m so happy for you, Jimin. I hope you have fun.” His heart clenches at that; how could you be so fucking caring about him? He knew you’d be surprised, but not genuinely happy for him. His hand glides over the skin between your midriff and skirt, an inkling of a gasp floating out of your throat.

“Sorry,” he whispers, moving his hand higher and locking eyes with yours. Time is always slow with him but now, it’s like it was screaming at you to take the opportunity. Unwinding one of your arms from around his neck, you smooth his hair up so you can see those prepossessing eyes.

“You can touch me,” you confirm just as softly. His features harden and you hope you didn’t read the situation wrong.

“I… I never got to kiss you that night.”

“Then you can kiss me now, if you’d like,” you say, pleading in your voice and it’s all he needs to hear before he burns his lips into yours. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted this,” he pants between suckles to your bottom lip. He kisses like he dances: powerful and in perfect control with his body, molding it to yours and massaging the skin he just apologized for touching only seconds ago.

You cup his face and look down at him with sultry prowess, “I want you, Jimin. I’ve always thought about this, hoping you would just make a move, idiot.” You dive back into him, his moans prominent when you lick and nip at his lip. He lowers his grip to your ass, squeezing and pushing his hips into your own.

“Well, I’ve always thought about fucking you in this cursed uniform,” he growls, forcing a giggle out of you. Grinding down into him for effect, your mouth travels to his ear so you can state a small confirmation.

“I’m flexible, babe. I’m all yours.”

He hums his praise, latching his mouth onto your neck, laving and peppering blues into your skin before he carries you off the couch. You wrap your legs around him instinctively, “Where are you taking me?”

Heading into a hallway and taking a sharp left, he kicks his door open, “I don’t know about you, hot stuff, but Yoongs doesn’t need to see you getting dicked down in our living room,” he jests. When he lays you back onto the foot of his bed, you briefly scan his room and find it hard to believe that it’s relatively clean, the posters on his walls the only thing that seemed cluttered. This guy was your high school self’s wet dream. Scanning him promiscuously, you chuckle.

“I can be into it,” you drawl playfully.

Earning an unimpressed scoff, he fingers the hem of his shirt, “You’re mine,” he sheds it in a swift pull and throws it to the side cockily. Marveling at each detailed divot and curve of muscle, you can’t help but bite your lip in frustrated anticipation. “Unless, you don’t want me,” he finishes with a tilt of his head. He knew what he was doing, simulating innocence to draw you out of your transfixed stupor to hear those three words string from your mouth. You reach out to touch his abs, tracing over linework of ink and watching him shiver from your touch. Knowing exactly what he wants to hear, you gaze into oblique eyes and mouth the words, “I do want you”.

Goading him on, you lay back and extend your legs above you, shuffling your spandex tantalizingly slow over your skin. Jimin whistles at your show, staring at the white g-string you sported under your skirt and wandering his hands over the supple skin you expose.

“Jesus, you fucking tease. Leave the skirt.” Tittering at his request, you dig your heels into his back to propel him down towards you, his ringed hands keeping himself afloat and a winning smile winking down at you. Bless your heart you didn’t faint right then and there.

He kisses you like a man starved, lips burning hot with desire and aching to be bit—so you give him that. Sinking your teeth gently into the flesh, he punishes such action with a slap to the underneath of your thigh, then holding it close to the side of his abdomen and rolling over with you on top. Practically suffocating from lack of air, you dislodge yourself, quite reluctantly, from his mouth and soothe his complaints with brief kisses to his thick neck.

“Why didn’t we do this—ah, before?” he pants. Sucking a particularly tender spot of his jugular, he moans out and bucks into your hips. You continue your way down, leaving no inch of skin untouched until you reach where his skin ends and the nuisance of clothing began.

“You don’t make things very easy for me. Can I suck you off?”

“Fuck, don’t ask. Just do it. Turn around, though, I’ll finger you at the same time,” he offers, propping himself up on his elbows as you readjust yourself with your head towards his bulge and your ass facing him, knees keeping you up on one side of his torso. “Perfect,” he commends.

Unbuckling his ridiculously tight jeans, you hook your thumbs under the denim and whisper a quick, “Up,” to pull them off when his hips lift off the mattress. Your pride inflates at the sight of his bulge resting in the crook of his thigh, adorned by simple black boxers that hugged him in all the right spots. All but drooling at the member, you place a loving kiss where you know his head resides, mouthing at it gingerly and soaking the material with your saliva.

He ruts into your face as he watches such indecency, “You know, I should probably tell you something,” he says rather seriously, shuffling your skirt up above your ass and mischievously prodding at your sex with his thumb.

“Hmm,” you mumble, sliding his boxers down enough to suck at the pink tip that oozed of precum and spreading the liquid around with your tongue. The bitterness that came with it was all welcomed, slightly sweeter than others you’ve ever tasted and you appreciated it much more when a man this good-looking was laid out before you.

He groans, “Ever heard of a Jacob’s Ladder? Fuck, right there, underneath a bit…” You suck and nip at the skin of his frenulum, knowing he was bound to like small dosages of pain mixed with his pleasure—a guess all too correct when he cries out in ecstasy and gives your ass a light spank.

“A Jacob’s what?”

“Just—just look at it. If you don’t like it then I can just take them out,” he sighs, all too impatient to give you a rundown of whatever a Jacob’s hoo-ha entailed. You perk a brow at his vocabulary, halting your mouth and sliding his boxers the rest of the way down.

If you weren’t riled up before, you were hot, ready, and willing to beg on your knees to be stuffed with Jimin and his… accessories. You understand the term “ladder” now, three rungs of metal pierced on the underside of his shaft and glinting up at you with intimidation. You hope Jimin can’t see the now overflowing amount of arousal oozing out of your pussy, squeezing thighs together in a useless attempt of hiding yourself.

“Fuck, didn’t that hurt?” you question, hovering fingers over the balls of silver that protruded on each side in complete awe.

“Of course it did, honey. It’s all worth it, though. It’ll make you feel good too. Need me to take them out?” You shake your head a little too vigorously, earning a chuckle and his middle finger to slide in between your folds unexpectedly. Yiping at the sudden entrance, you cast a glare over his shoulder with his only response being the curve of his digit.

“C-Can I lick it? Can it get infected if you don’t use a condom?” you bombard him with questions, entirely unfamiliar with the subject and entirely enamored by it.

“It’s all healed up, baby. You can do whatever your little heart desires with it. And I would oh so much prefer going bare,” he confirms, and your heart flips at his pet name for you. That, and the thought of his thick, pierced cock penetrating you condom-less.

You wrap your lips around him once more, unafraid to take more and more of his length until you feel the cold metal—your stopping point. Call it your lack of experience, but you prefer not to catch your teeth on those piercings today. You make up for it by sliding a hand back under his scrunched boxers, fondling his balls as you bob diligently. He curses and struggles to keep his body still, digging another digit between your legs to slow your own ministrations. When it works and you moan around his cock, Jimin can’t help but want to play a little game.

“Should I give you a challenge, babe? It’s super simple. Whoever makes the other cum first gets to request something. Anything. Deal?”

“Deahl,” you muffle, swirling your tongue lavishly around his crown. Everything with Jimin was much more… intriguing. Even your first time having sex was turned into some lusty escapade of unexpected metallic embellishments and cheeky gambles. It made you feel something in your veins, wanting more and more of whatever poison Jimin was.

Taking a breath, you lick broadly over his entire shaft and scarcely taste the titanium—more than anything, it was just cold. Jimin shudders at the feeling, punishing you with a third and final finger and pushing downdowndown into a spot all too sensitive for you to focus.

Try as you might, your now pathetic attempts of sucking him off is all forgotten in your own haze of chasing your orgasm. Instead, you rest your head on his hip and writhe against his hand, fucking back onto it while he simultaneously prods your g-spot over and over again until you see stars.

“Giving up already? You were doing so well for a while, you could’ve won,” he lilts.

“Jimin, please make me cum. Oh god,” you wail, legs straining for just that final push…

“Is this what you want?” He slides his thumb across, swiping whatever he could collect and using it to knead at your neglected clit. It’s all you need, pleasure washing over you in tandem of near oversensitivity, a near scream tearing through your lungs that only comes out in ragged whines against his leg.

“Beautiful, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re ruining my sheets over here,” he criticizes, removing his hand with an obscene squelch and moving around in the bed.

The torpor you caught yourself in didn’t render what he was saying, just letting him move you about so your head rests on his pillows while he places himself between your legs.

“Jiminie,” you babble, “fuck me.” He strokes your hair away from your face and smiles, that cute puppy smile that turns his eyes into crescents. The rest of him, though, is purely sinful. Hair sweaty and pieced to perfection as his body taunted you with toned muscles.

“I don’t think you’re ready, honey,” he answers, “even though you’re dripping in your own cum.” He leans back and stares at your pussy without embarrassment, pulling your knees together and watching the juices flow even more. “I should put it to use.”

You peer up at him, curious as to whatever the hell he’s dreaming of over there and inexplicably stunned when you see his dick between your legs. “J-Jimin, what are you doing?”

“Shh, just keep them closed tight,” he orders, fucking himself between the lips of your heat and the warm skin of your thighs. You can’t help but ravish the sight of him as he slicks himself up, eyeing you down as his hips roll into you agonizingly slow. His piercings graze against your nub occasionally, warmth once again growing in your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so soft and so wet. Who did this to you, hm?” You moan maniacally, angling your hips as to catch him and push inside, but he only laughs degradingly and intentionally misses.

“You think I’m going to fuck you if you can’t even answer this simple question?” he sneers. “Answer like a good girl, then I’ll fuck you into oblivion.”

You scramble for words, initially incoherent and struggling. “Jimin! Shit, Jimin. You made me this way. Ah, you m-make me so wet, so please put it in, put it in and—ha, aah!”

He shoves his length in like it’s all he knew what to do, your ankles to his shoulders so he can drink up your moans with his reddened lips. He was right—the piercings didn’t feel like any dick you’ve received before, it was so much better. This was pornographic, it was so good. He all but pistols into you, his cock grazing places previously untouched. Indulging in his heaven sent strokes, you cry and groan at each relentless thrust.

“Hush, baby, Yoongi’s going to hear your pretty self,” he warns, but you don’t give a shit. If anything, you moan louder with a know-all glint in your eye, testing Jimin’s patience. “Brat,” he spits.

He pounds into you repeatedly, completely removing himself before filling you up again and again and again. Between the pressure to your g-spot and the added stimulation from his Jacob’s Ladder—your stomach heaves, an unfamiliar feeling washing over your abdomen contrary to anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Oh, Jimin, wait!” you sob, halting his hips from another brutal shove a little too late. The second he pulls out, your second orgasm (and first ever untouched orgasm) of the night reigns over, briefly showering his lower stomach in your own wet arousal.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot. Did you just… squirt on me?” he growls, not taking the time to hear your answer as he lifts you into his lap, legs wrapped around his muscular back and arms gripping around his shoulders for dear life.

He sinks back into you deliciously, filling you to the brim with your added weight and rutting up into you to chase his own release. Everything is soaked and sticky, Jimin’s ragged breathing and groans so close to your ear that you’re sure it’ll be engrained into your memory forever, his thrusts so deep inside you wail once more.

Consequently, the banging on the wall next to you comes as no surprise, Yoongi’s angry, “Shut the fuck up!” clear as day. Jimin waves it off.

“Don’t listen baby. Moan louder for me. Tell me where you want my cum.”

The slaps of skin become louder; it wouldn’t be long before Jimin came. “Inside, Jiminie, please. Cum inside me, pump me full,” you squeal, lust sparking inside you knowing that his roommate could hear you getting fucked senseless.

One, two, three more aching pounds before he spills into you, his pretty moans music to your ears. You flop back as soon as he takes himself out, suddenly aching all over from how much he stretched your legs and groaning at the pain.

You slap his eager hand away when he fingers his cum back into your abused lips, “That hurts, idiot.” He smiles and sucks your intermingled cum off his fingers with a pop.

“We taste good together,” he husks. Fuck. “By the way. You came first. Stay the night?”

You oblige with or without the pressure of the bet, dog-tired from your beating and not even fathoming the trek back to your own room. Jimin takes charge in your state of haziness, washing you off in his shower, replacing your uniform with a t-shirt of his own and laying you beside him on his mattress (sheets replaced and refreshed).

“You have piercings in your dick,” you state in the middle of the quiet.

Jimin snorts at the outburst, looping an arm around your side and melding his body to yours, “Yeah, is it weird?”

“… Robot dick,” you whisper, words cracking at the face of your laughter.

“Oh my god.”

“So, when you’re going through metal detectors at airports and whatever, do you have to tell them that the metal’s in your penis? Do they have to check?” Titters are awarded with light jabs to your side, which are then led to screams and kicks to his legs.

Yoongi bursts through Jimin’s door, brows stitched together in heated anger parallel to the flames of hell, “I swear to fucking god, if you two don’t quiet down I’ll mount your heads on my wall, it’ll make a great decoration.”

“What the hell, what if we were naked? Don’t just go busting through—”

“Yeah because you obviously care if I know you two are fucking. ‘Don’t listen, baby! Tell me where you want my cum, baby!’” Yoongi mocks. Pillows are flying and insults are thrown as you watch them bicker sleepily, all fading into white noise as you begin to drift off.

Sleep itself feels like a blink, so exhausted that you don’t dream. Waking in the same position that you were last conscious in, the only difference in picture is the fact that: A) the sun is shining through Jimin’s skylight and B) Jimin is no longer in bed with you.

But before you can even question where he’s run off to, his sly self sneaks back into the bedroom, shirtless and face clean from washing up just now. You don’t even hide the fact that you look down to check out his tight briefs, metal detector in your brain trying to scope it out.

“You’re awake. Sorry if I was loud,” he smiles, crawling on top of you as you stretch out like a mangled cat. You shake your head, combing his hair back with your nails as he dips down into your chest. “I like when you wear my shirts.”

“That’s pretty stereotypical,” you whisper out, voice low and raspy from your slumber. This isn’t fair, you think, he got to brush his teeth already.

He sits up and gives you A Look, making you giggle and giving you the leverage to feel up his abs as he flexes haughtily.

“I can get used to this,” you purr.

“I bet you could,” he mumbles into your neck, nipping at the places he already marked last night. He doesn’t push, just relishes in your warmth and fondles you carefully as you continue to wake up and it makes you shiver.

“I wish you would’ve done this a long time ago,” you sigh.

“You hated me.”

“You didn’t make it easy for me to like you,” you retort, gasping when he bites your collarbone, “Now—Now I like you.”

He stops abruptly and pulls away, landing on his side with an elbow and tilting his head towards you, “Well, I hope you don’t start liking me too much.”

You squint, “W-Why? Don’t tell me this was just a one night stand or anything.”

“No! I mean, not just one night or whatever. I just—this is just casual, right?”

You all but bite your tongue to keep from lashing out, “What do you mean ‘casual’? You didn’t say anything about ‘casual’.”

“Oh, Y/N, c’mon. Did you really think we should date? Look at us, baby. We’re just not… each other’s types, you know?”

It’s about time you get up, shoving aside his warm blankets and grabbing your soiled uniform from the floor, “No, Jimin. I don’t know. I thought you were being genuine with me.”

“Hey, no, don’t leave,” he grabs your arm before you leave his bedroom, “Okay, there was some miscommunication. I’m not trying to be mean. Can I just… I don’t know, think about it? I’m just not used to this.”

Looking into his eyes for some sort of confirmation, your tensions subside. “I’m not a toy. If you don’t want to be with me, just say it.” The hurt he feels in your tone breaks his heart, for once. Would he really be willing to try something he knows won’t work?

For you, maybe.

“I do like you, Y/N. Just give me some time.” He pulls your arm once more, hoping you’ll stay. But you draw the line and pry his hand off politely.

“Of course I’ll give you time. I’ll see you later, okay?” He nods understandingly. He can’t feel butthurt when he’s the one putting you on ice, he knows that. So Jimin watches you leave in his shirt, mind clouded more so than when you arrived.

a/n: yay! you made it through the first part! if you liked it, feel free to let me know or ask any questions to the characters! xx, selene

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k-popscenxrios · 6 years ago

Text

Didn’t Ask For This Part 15 (Roommate!JK x OC)

A/N: I am so tired, so sorry if there are a lot of grammar mistakes. I’m falling asleep while making this post! ^^; This is not the final part for those who might think that after reading. This would be such a lame way to end the story. I’ve got plans for (at least) two parts after this one!

Summary: “I didn’t know you hated me so much,” he spoke as he grabbed my wrist and once again turned me around to face him, “and quite honestly, I don’t think I’ve done anything horrible enough for you to hate me to the degree that you do.” “You say that like the hate isn’t mutual,” I remarked as he shook his head. There was a bitter smile on his face as he took a deep breath, “I think you are quite honestly one of the worst human beings I’ve had to come in contact with.”

5k words | drama/angst ✞ | fluff ♡ | mature themes ✗

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | Finale

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

*Third Person POV*

The drive to the apartment was pure torture as Jungkook tried multiple times to get a hold of Ari yet again. She didn’t pick up any of his calls as he sighed and shook his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his shaking hands. How the hell could he handle this stressful conversation knowing that RaeAri is mad at him?

He took a deep breath and tried to call her yet again, but she was adamant about not answering him. He felt nothing short of terrified of having this conversation with Taehyung. He always assumed that if he were present for the reveal of their relationship, RaeAri would also be there.

Nothing could prepare him to go into this alone.

As he pulled into the parking lot, his blood began to run cold. He sent several apology texts to Ari while he was still sitting in his car, trying to do anything he could to avoid having to go inside.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook finally made his way into the building and up the stairs, taking his time with each step. Every stair he climbed, the more deafening his thoughts were. Why was he having to go into this alone? Why was the universe this cruel to him?

The door finally came into sight as Jungkook felt his heart drop to his feet. What was he even supposed to say? He doesn’t know what Taehyung knows and doesn’t know. For all he knows, Soomin may have just simply said that something is going on between Jungkook and RaeAri that they aren’t telling him.

Jungkook tried to talk himself into going up the last little bit of stairs to walk into the apartment, but he just… couldn’t. He had unknowingly rooted his feet to the floor. With a nervous swallow and a death grip on the handrail, Jungkook forced himself up the stairs.

Maybe he was being really dramatic about this, but he couldn’t help it. Everything was riding on this line; his friendship, his relationship, his housing… He didn’t know where he would even go if Taehyung kicked him out…

And not to mention that RaeAri is mad at him, and that thought refuses to leave his mind.

He finally stood face to face with the door as his shaking hand reached out to unlock it. There was no going back now.

He slowly opened the door, slightly jumping when his eyes met with Taehyung’s furious ones. So he had to know more than Jungkook hoped he would. With the death glare Taehyung’s giving him, there was no doubt that he knew a little too much.

Jungkook let the door close behind him as Taehyung stood up from his seat on the couch. The living room was deafeningly silent since the TV was off, and the air was filled with tension. Jungkook still didn’t know what he should say, but Taehyung seemed to be waiting for Jungkook to speak.

“Wh-What do you know?” he found himself cringing as the words left his mouth. That was not the right thing to say. Taehyung’s angry eyes flared up even more as he charged toward his friend, readying a punch. Jungkook braced for the contact, but when it collided with his face, it still hurt like crazy.

He winced, trying to hold all his words in. This conversation was very important, and he couldn’t snap at Taehyung for anything. He couldn’t afford to make his friend any angrier.

“You slept with my sister, you bastard,” Taehyung’s voice was filled with pure rage as Jungkook felt his stomach drop for the nth time today. Did Soomin only tell him about them sleeping together? She didn’t mention the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with her?

“T-Taehyung, you don’t know the full story,” Jungkook tried to defend, but Taehyung wasn’t really up for listening.

“What more is there to hear? You told me ten million times that nothing was going to happen. You told me that you wouldn’t make any moves on her. Tell me, is she only in love with you because you two slept together? Did you put her under some spell like you did Soomin?” Taehyung readied another punch as Jungkook found himself cowering, still not having recovered from the first punch to the cheekbone.

The contact hit his stomach this time as Jungkook gritted his teeth, trying to bare the pain the best he could. He took several seconds to get his breath back as Taehyung just stood and watched his doubled over form.

Once Jungkook was able to properly breathe again, he spoke the only words that he thought might help his situation.

“I’m in love with Ari.”

His voice was incredibly weak from being punched as hard as he was, but the emotion was still there. It wasn’t a half hearted confession; it was a raw and honest one. His voice broke from the mix of emotions he was feeling as he finally gave in to his overwhelming emotions. His hard and cool exterior was officially shattered as he dropped to the floor and let all his tears fall.

He didn’t cry often. The only times he’s cried in recent memory were either when he was drunk or when he went to his cousin’s funeral three years ago. He had stuck to his harsh and unbreakable exterior for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to cry.

Meeting RaeAri was quick to change him. She cried over him all the time, and every time he saw it, he felt like crying, himself. He’d only allowed her to see him cry a few times, but he was done playing tough. He wasn’t fooling anyone with it at this point.

RaeAri has made him remember that he’s more than a cold-hearted, arrogant asshole. He does have a heart, and it’s a very fragile one, at that. He never thought he’d be broken so easily by someone, but he would never take any of it back.

“How fucking pathetic,” Taehyung spat, “Don’t lie like that just to keep me from beating your ass.”

Jungkook looked up at his friend as he felt their closeness fading. They had been friends for so long, and just the thought of losing him made Jungkook lose it.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to notice that Jungkook wasn’t just crying, he was sobbing on the floor beneath him. He struggled to keep a harsh expression on his face, but seeing his best friend drowning in tears was getting to him.

He’d never seen Jungkook look so broken…

“I am so h-helplessly in love with Ari,” Jungkook repeated through his sobs, hiding his face in his arm as he took several breaths to try and calm his pathetic sobbing. He looked like a complete mess, and Taehyung was finally able to see reason through his rage.

“That just doesn’t make any sense, Jeon,” Taehyung shook his head, but Jungkook’s mood didn’t shift. He watched Jungkook’s shaking hand as he took his phone out of his pocket, checking to see if he’d gotten anything from RaeAri.

Nothing.

His throat closed up as he dropped his phone to the floor and tried to wipe away his never ending tears, “She’s so mad at me that she won’t talk to me. I screwed everything up, and I can’t take anything back to fix it.”

Taehyung swallowed and found himself lowering to the ground in front of Jungkook. He took a deep breath as he felt emotions trying to get a hold of him. He’d only seen Jungkook cry a handful of times, and he knew to not take this lightly.

This situation was so much deeper than Taehyung realized.

“Kook,” Taehyung spoke softly as Jungkook took a deep, unsteady breath, “Why is she so mad at you?”

It took Jungkook several seconds to calm down to form coherent words, “I told Soomin too much, but she was pissing me off… I was trying to tell her that I fell for RaeAri, but she laughed it off. She started insulting her and was laughing at the prospect of me loving her.”

Taehyung stayed quiet as Jungkook wiped his tears, relieved to see that his tears were lessening. Seeing Jungkook so pitiful was not a sight that Taehyung wanted to get used to.

“I angrily confessed that I slept with RaeAri because I love her, and once the words came out of my mouth, Soomin still didn’t believe me. She tried to text you to confirm what I said, but… I told her that we hadn’t gotten around to telling you. I gave her all the ammo she needed to ruin us, and Ari is super upset with me over it.”

Taehyung stayed silent as Jungkook swallowed, running both hands through his hair and slightly pulling at the roots, “When I drove to see Ari at work to apologize for hurting her with the whole Soomin situation, she told me that she was ready to tell you about us. I was unsure, but she told me that she thought you would be happy for us once you got used to seeing us together… She was finally ready to tell you and I just had to fuck everything up for her.”

Jungkook could tell that Taehyung’s anger wasn’t completely gone, but his eyes were mostly soft. He seemed to be taking all the information very well…

“I-I got a call from you and came straight over without saying anything to Ari about it. She ended up calling me, and I finally had the balls to tell her that I spilled everything to Soomin. I don’t even know how to begin apologizing to her…” Jungkook got a little choked up as he tried to get out his next words.

“I’m literally the worst, but I would do anything to be a better person if it meant Ari stayed by my side. I love her so damn much, Taehyung. I really… really do.”

Taehyung took a deep breath as he felt a chill run throughout his own body. He felt Jungkook’s sincerity in his words, and his guilt started to increase very quickly when he looked at the swelling on Jungkook’s cheek. He swallowed and stood up, holding his hand out to his friend.

“Let’s get some ice on that, man,” Taehyung spoke softly, “And don’t worry. I…”

Taehyung stopped as Jungkook’s hand grabbed onto Taehyung’s.

“I’m sure she won’t stay upset at you for long.”

My shift dragged on all day long as I felt myself wanting to pull my hair out. I had ranted to Jimin and Chaeyoung about everything all night, and they mostly stayed quiet while listening. Chaeyoung was obviously very upset over the whole ordeal, even going as far to call both Soomin and Jungkook ‘perfect for each other’.

I know that she didn’t mean it completely, but I couldn’t help but get sick over that thought. Just thinking about the two of them dating made me feel horrible. I might be mad at him, especially since I hadn’t heard from Taehyung all night about the situation, but I hated picturing me without him by my side.

I took several bathroom trips that night to try and calm down my slight panic attacks over how things were going with Jungkook and Taehyung. For all I knew, Jungkook was packing to move out already. I sure as hell wasn’t ready for that.

“If you haven’t heard from them, then maybe everything is okay,” Chaeyoung proposed as the three of us walked out to our cars.

“Especially since you haven’t gotten anymore apology texts from Jungkook. Things seem like they’re all okay,” Jimin nodded as I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around myself.

“I hope to God that you’re both right.” I nodded, unlocking my car once we got close enough, “I’m getting out of here. Sorry to leave so quickly.”

“Get outta here, Ari,” Chaeyoung laughed and waved me off, “Text me to tell me how it goes! Otherwise I’ll worry for you until I work with you again!”

I smiled and let a soft laugh out despite all the dread in my stomach, “Alright. I’ll keep you updated.”

We all parted ways as I finally stepped into my car, resting my forehead on the steering wheel and closing my eyes. I wasn’t ready to go home… I was dying to call Jungkook, but I was still really pissed at him for this. It’s all his fault that any of this drama happened today…

I didn’t even know if I was going to stay mad at him when I get home, but judging from how much I miss him, I’ll probably forgive him the second our eyes meet again.

That man has me wrapped around his finger.

…

I took a deep breath as I walked up to the door of the apartment. The hallway was deafeningly silent as I swallowed, pulling my hair out of its increasingly uncomfortable ponytail. I sighed in relief at the feeling of my hair falling lose, only to come back to the reality of the stress in front of me.

Without another moment's hesitation, I pushed my key into the lock of the door, unlocking it as quietly as possible.

There was no way that they weren’t waiting for me to come home since they knew what time I got off today, but I tried to be discrete anyway.

I pushed the door open slowly, and as I expected, Jungkook was sitting on the couch. The confusing part was that Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. I felt confusion fill my features as Jungkook’s eyes were quick to lock onto mine. He stood up and started walking over to me as I let the door shut behind me. I looked to the dining table, and Taehyung wasn’t there, either.

“Ari,” Jungkook whispered as I looked back over at him. The softness in his voice melted my heart as I stood right in front of him. I noticed some swelling in his face as I looked at his cheek. He had a little bit of a black eye, but most of the swelling was on his right cheekbone.

So Taehyung was definitely here at one point…

“I’m so damn sorry,” Jungkook spoke again, his voice still soft and somber. I felt my heart breaking as I sighed and quickly gave in to him. Why’d he have to look so pitiful? He’s never looked so broken in the time I’ve known him. I don’t think he even looked this sad when Jennie broke up with him in high school, but then again, I hardly knew him back then.

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” I nodded calmly as Jungkook sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. I felt my breath being knocked out of me as I looked up at him, seeing his eyes close as he leaned into me. His arms slowly trailed around my waist as I moved my hands to his shoulders.

I was about to open my mouth to ask about Taehyung, but my voice stopped in my throat as I saw a tear fall from Jungkook’s eyes. Panic immediately filled me as I started over analyzing things. Was he saying goodbye to me? Was Taehyung kicking him out?

Was it over between us?

I reached up and wiped his tears as my own started building up. I felt my hands start to shake from anxiety of the unknown, and Jungkook’s tears were making me even more paranoid.

“What’s wrong? It’s okay, I forgive you Jungkook. You have nothing to c-cry for,” I tried to stay calm, but I wasn’t doing a very good job. I couldn’t let go of him. Just the thought of never seeing him again terrified me.

It was scary enough to know that the summer was eventually going to end, but to think that it might end with me never seeing Jungkook again…? I felt nauseous over it.

“I-I just… I wanted everything to go well with Taehyung… I wanted the two of us to tell him together…” he spoke, keeping his eyes closed as he squeezed me to him.

“W-Well, where is Taehyung?” I asked, finally having the courage to ask the question that I wanted to ask the second I walked in.

Jungkook stayed silent as I felt my worries grow more and more. Why wasn’t he answering me?! It was killing me!

“I love you, Jungkook,” I whispered, trying to get him to open his eyes. I placed his face in my hands, careful to not irritate the bruise on his cheek, “Please, tell me where Taehyung is. If there’s anything that I need to fix, I’ll fix it, okay? I’ll fix it, so please stop crying, Kookie…”

He took a deep breath at my words, finally opening his eyes to look at me. I moved my hands to his shoulders as I violently grabbed at the material. He swallowed and his eyes left mine to trail down the hallway. I let my eyes follow his as I spotted a very familiar figure in the hall.

“Taehyung’s here.”

Jungkook allowed me to pull away from him as I stood still, looking in the eyes of my brother. He looked very calm, but also very worried. I took a deep breath and walked down the hallway towards him. He moved in my direction as well, stopping right in front of me.

“Tae,” I furrowed my eyebrows, slowly hating the look he was giving me. It made me nervous and feel so pitiful standing next to him. He was keeping me on edge with his silence as I took a deep breath to keep calm.

“I-I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, myself. I really wanted to be the one to tell you…” I started off my apology as I noticed the smallest, slightest smile appear on his face. I swallowed, trying not to get any hopes up about how this was going to go.

“I… you have no idea how badly I wish this didn’t happen between the two of you,” Taehyung spoke honestly, but I didn’t flinch. In a way, I didn’t completely disagree with him. Life would have been so much less complicated if I had fallen for Hoseok. He could have given me the relationship that I thought I always wanted.

But that didn’t happen, and I wouldn’t change it for all the money in the world. I love the unpredictability of Jungkook and his actions. I love his stupid snarky comments that he obviously doesn’t mean, and I love the way he riles me up. I love how in the span of just a couple weeks, I was able to take some closed off jerk like Jungkook and open him up. I was able to look deep inside who he really is. I love him, and I don’t want to picture my life with anyone else.

I wanted Taehyung to understand just how hard I’ve fallen for Jungkook. Not asshole Jungkook, but real and raw Jungkook.

“But,” Taehyung’s voice cut off my thoughts as I put my focus back on him, “I’ve never seen you look so… happy, Ari… disregarding today, of course. Even if I wanted to, I could never rip you two apart.”

I felt my eyes widen as my brain slowly processed the true weight of his words. He was going to accept this? He’s not going to force Jungkook out of my life?

“I don’t know how I’m going to handle this relationship, honestly. If you two could keep the lovey dovey PDA out of my sight for a while, I would really appreciate-”

He cut himself off as I jumped on him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hugging him tight against me. I felt tears of relief falling into the material of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around me to return the hug.

“I love you, Tae,” I laughed through the tears as he buried his nose in my hair.

“I love you, too, Ari.”

The silence was comfortable as I just stayed in Taehyung’s arms for a little while longer. I never imagined that Taehyung would accept the two of us so quickly. I thought we’d have to go through weeks of an angry Taehyung who tried to avoid us at all costs. I assumed that he would attempt splitting the two of us apart before we grew even more attached to each other.

Taehyung had always been very critical of who he let be around me. He didn’t like any of my male friends in high school, and he made sure that I knew, as well as all my male friends. They didn’t dare come too close to me after being threatened by someone like Taehyung. He was usually a laid back big brother, but he didn’t just sit back and let me date whoever I wanted.

I used to resent him for cock-blocking me for so long. He could be such a terrible brother to me, and I used to swear that I was going to hate him for the rest of our lives over the smallest things.

But the brother I was holding to me was a more relaxed version of his high school self. He’s grown to trust me, and it made me feel like I was finally doing something right in his eyes. His fast acceptance also made me become increasingly curious about what happened when I was at work. Taehyung was obviously furious enough to give Jungkook a harsh punch to the face…

The two of us pulled away as I looked up at my older brother with a soft smile. I wiped my tears away and swallowed, a giggle nearly coming out of my mouth from my next words.

“Wanna play Wii Sports?”

I could sense the confusion from both Taehyung and Jungkook as I spun around to get the Wii ready for us to play. The two guys just stood next to each other and watched me as I looked over at the two of them. I bit back a smile as I turned the TV on, walking over to the couch.

“Wii Sports?” Taehyung sounded so confused as I just smiled and nodded.

“I’m sick of how depressing this room feels. Let’s do something to try and take our minds off of it.”

Jungkook snickered at my justification as he grabbed a controller without another thought, “Alright. I’d love a good distraction.”

Taehyung just continue to watch us carefully as I grabbed the third controller and held it out to him. He looked at it for a couple seconds before a sigh left his mouth and a smile appeared on his face.

“Fine, you got me,” he grabbed the controller as I took a deep breath and looked between the two men. Taehyung was already focused on starting a game of tennis as Jungkook lightly protested, saying that it wouldn’t be fun to play tennis with three people.

“What do you mean it won’t be fun? I’m going to play both and front and back positions and I’m still going to beat you and Ari’s team.”

I watched Jungkook as he rolled his eyes as I felt my heart swell. I could still see his puffy redness from the tears he had just been crying, but his mood had already brightened significantly. I knew that not all of our problems were solved in this situation, but it was nice to know that despite everything, we could all still be comfortable around each other.

“Bring it on, Tae,” I spoke as he glanced my way with a soft smile. I looked away from him and back at the TV as we started the game of tennis. Needless to say, Taehyung won very easily against the two of us.

“I call bullshit,” Jungkook mumbled, sour about losing against a man playing two characters against two real people. How did he manage to blow them out of the water?

“I’m not a tennis pro for no reason,” Taehyung winked to his miffed friend as I bit my lip. If moments like this were what I had to look forward to in the future, everything was going to be okay. Even if they’ll be gone after the summer ends, another summer will come next year. I doubt that Jungkook would refuse to stay with me over the summer again.

“You know,” I spoke out loud in the middle of our bowling match. Taehyung was trying to keep up with Jungkook and I, but he didn’t truly have a chance to win. “I want to go bowling again with everyone. Bowling in real life is fun despite how horribly I suck.”

Both guys laughed as Jungkook nodded. Taehyung turned to me and slightly bounced the couch with excitement. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

I smiled and nodded, pulling my phone out to pull up my calendar. Taehyung zoned out for a minute as it was his turn to bowl. Ouch, he got a spilt that’s nearly impossible to redeem.

I paused from looking at my calendar as my eyes locked onto Jungkook’s. I hadn’t looked his direction too much since earlier when he had broken down and cried. I felt relief wash over me with his smile comforting me from afar. I loved that man too much for my own good…

“I’ll be right back, Taehyung spoke after finishing his frame off, only having hit one of the split pins. I didn’t ask where he was running off to, and Jungkook didn’t, either.

The second he left the room, Jungkook hopped from the smaller couch to sit next to me on the bigger couch. He was sitting where Taehyung was only seconds ago, and I felt myself moving closer to him.

“How’d you do it?” I asked him as he raised his eyebrows. I ran my fingers through his hair to relax him as he sighed and leaned into my touch. He turned his body towards mine, softly guiding me to sit in his lap.

I felt my face heat up at the foreign feeling. I’d never sat in Jungkook’s lap before, but feeling how close we were made me quickly realize how much I loved this feeling.

“I just told him about how much I love you,” Jungkook spoke softly, his breath brushing against my lips. I felt a shiver run through my body as he opened his eyes, staring deep into mine. “Eventually, he realized just how badly I need you in my life.”

I felt my heartbeat increase at his words, and I buried my other hand in his hair. I leaned forward to kiss him, surprised when he pulled back before our lips met. He was quick to lean in to my ear and give it some light kisses.

“You know, we never got to finish what we started at work,” he mumbled as my cheeks heated up, radiating heat from them because of how hot they were.

“Well it’s going to have to wait until Taehyung’s not home,” I spoke as Jungkook growled impatiently.

“The roof is still open for business,” he spoke as he pulled away from my ear to look into my eyes. This man looked like he was ready to devour me in one bite.

I was about to protest, but Jungkook’s lips stopped mine from forming any words. I quickly leaned into the kiss as it quickly turned into a hot and heavy kiss. His tongue waste no time infiltrating my mouth as I lowly mumbled into his mouth. He moved my legs to straddle him as I lightly gasped, feeling his arousal against me. He bit his lip and rolled his hips into mine as I leaned my forehead against his.

“God, why are you so irresistible?” I slightly glare, but it’s half hearted. “You’re too horny for your own good. No wonder you used to sleep around with girls all the time. You can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

Jungkook glared and grinded against me again as I found myself moaning into his ear.

“You wanna know where I want my dick to be?” he asked as I felt my face turn a permanent shade of red. He grabbed my chin and moved my face to be in front of his. His eyes were already undressing me as I let out a slight laugh. I moved against him as his face twisted in a way I wanted to see for the rest of my life.

“Just kiss me before Taehyung comes back, Kook.”

His hot mouth engulfed mine as he moved his hands to grab my ass and grind me against him. I sighed against his lips before going back in for another passionate kiss. His scent was swallowing me whole as I gave my every sense to focus on him. I memorized every touch, every kiss, and every moan as I pulled at Jungkook’s dark locks.

“I love you,” I moaned into his ear as his breathing became unsteady. His hands were under my shirt and cupping my breast over my bra when I said it, and his darkened eyes were quick to soften.

“I love you, too,” he snickered before slipping his hand behind my back. I felt my eyes widen as he started to attempt unhooking my bra. I opened my mouth to scold him when Jungkook and I both jumped at the sound of a door opening. We quickly scrambled away from each other as I threw Jungkook a blanket to hide his very obvious erection.

“You two didn’t bowl without me?” Taehyung asked as he walked into the room with a raised eyebrow. I tried to not look as embarrassed as I felt, but Taehyung was too intuitive for our own good. He studied me carefully before his face twisted in disgust.

“I was gone for less than five minutes! You guys are gross,” he scrunched his nose up as I just let a soft smile appear on my face.

I could definitely get used to life being like this.

A/N: I hope that this chapter wasn’t disappointing! For some reason I’m not as proud of it as I am other parts? Thanks for reading! I’m off to bed now! ^^;

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

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fanfic-scribbles · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s Be Alone Together

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You get two new neighbors and the three of you become something more.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Long [sob], fluff, swearing, timeskips, for a brief moment Reader is implied to not necessarily be straight, Reader is a sore loser

Words: 9940

Special Note: Written for @barnesrogersvstheworld “Shot Through the Heart” 3k Challenge for the dialogue prompt: “I’m having some problems right now and I’d really like to be alone.” // “Well, I’ll be alone with you.”

A/N: This fucking story is Exhibit A in why I wish I didn’t handwrite everything first, oy vey. First: I’m very sorry for the length. It just…happened. If you’re using the Tumblr app and it crashes half as much as mine does, I also have this story posted on AO3 under the username relic_amaranth. Also, because Tumblr likes to fuck up my formatting when it comes to line breaks, ~ is in place of those timeskips that aren’t too long (hours/days) and the solid lines are for time-jumps that are a week or more. Time is left purposefully vague to better suit the reader viewpoint. It is long for something without chapters, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Congrats again to @barnesrogersvstheworld for hitting 3k; their stuff is wonderful and their challenges are always good fun.

You keep to yourself. You stay out of other peoples’ business. It’s respectful, you reason, and not just due to the fact that you’d rather be left alone. …Though that’s a factor. ‘Do unto others,’ ‘treat others,’ and all that jazz.

However you do get curious when, in the hall on the way to your unit at the end, you see moving boxes stacked next to your only neighbor’s door. And who wouldn’t be curious– whoever lives there has the power to make your life a living hell and it has been blissfully empty for over a month. Unfortunately a glance in the open door reveals no one and you can’t think of a good reason to linger, so you go to your own apartment. You’ll see them around eventually.

And you do. There are two of them– Steve and James. They’re a cute couple, quiet (thank goodness), and seemingly friendly. Seemingly, because you keep just missing them, and they, you. If you’re going out then they’re coming in, and vice versa. You only know their names because you overheard them introducing themselves to someone else. You doubt they even know yours. It doesn’t really matter– they seem nice and happy and they keep to themselves and you have no complaints. As far as neighbors go, they’re five-star quality.

It’s funny, though, because after a while it becomes obvious that they’re actively trying to meet you properly (well, Steve is,) but keep getting thwarted by circumstance.

Like one time when you’re getting your mail, Steve is down there getting his, but just as he opens his mouth to talk to you, someone else greets him and then starts chatting him up. You wait politely for a handful of seconds before you realize no tool short of a crowbar is going to pull that little old lady off of him, and you slip away as Steve shoots you an apologetic smile.

At another point you pass by James in the hallway. He’s in PJ pants, a hoodie, and gloves, and hesitates with his door already open. You’re not in any real hurry so you pause. He only gets to inhale when his phone starts ringing. Loudly. He huffs in annoyance. You give him a little wave, he nods, and you both go about your business.

The next time you see them you’re on your cell and rushing out of your apartment due to a work emergency.

The time after that you’re coming home and they're speeding out– walking, but doing it so intently it looks like they’re barely keeping themselves from sprinting. That proves true when they hit the stairwell and you hear them race down the stairs as they start to beat feet.

It’s okay. Introducing yourself to your neighbors is always hit-or-miss anyways– some people do and some people don’t and you don’t mind either way. So as far as you care, it’s a wash.

Your new neighbors are stubborn, though. One night you come home late, drained by an early start and too much overtime after, and it’s all you can do to drop yourself onto the couch. Just as you’re ready to pass out, someone knocks. And knocks again.

You groan. “Sorry whoever you are,” you mumble. “But I am not getting up.”

Miraculously, the knocking stops and you leave consciousness shortly thereafter. It’s only when you wake up the next morning that you suddenly realize nobody buzzed, which means it was somebody who was already in the building, which means it was likely your next-door neighbor, who probably waited until you got home, and who probably thought that you had actively ignored him.

Shit. You rub the bridge of your nose and force yourself up. Before you shower or change your clothes or otherwise do anything, you sit down and write out a short apology note, because while you don’t care to make friends, you don’t want them to think you’re a total dick. You go to leave it at their door, only to be brought up short at your own.

Sitting on the ground is a little gift package from a local coffee shop, filled with different types of coffee and a mug with their logo on it. You pick up the cellophane-wrapped basket and flip open the small card on the front.

‘Sorry we keep missing you! Hopefully we’ll meet someday. For now, accept these with our tentative apologies. We’re both night owls but we do our best. Until we meet for real, Your new neighbors.’

You smile at the words, a cartoon happy face, and the two different signatures. You could have sworn it was the new neighbors who were supposed to get gifts. And, actually– that’s not a bad idea.

It is incredibly early in the morning, but you know that shop is open. You slip on something more comfortable than your wrinkled work clothes, make a quick dash out, and you return with breakfast for yourself and a small basket of assorted treats for your neighbors. On the tiny card that came with it you write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood!’, place your apology note right behind it, and go home to give yourself a nice morning.

You don’t actually meet one of them for at least another week.

A shitty day has been topped off by an even shittier date and all you want is to crawl into bed and ignore the headache that is slowly but strongly coming on. This plan is currently being thwarted by your inability to find your keys– and in your haste to get at them, your bag containing your leftovers topples to the ground. And that just fucking figures. You lean your back against the wall and as the encroaching pain suddenly barrels in, you sink down to sit and pull your knees up for a place to rest your head.

You don’t even get a full minute of peace before the neighbors’ door opens, and flicking your eyes over reveals the hem of blue pajama pants and bare feet pointed in your direction. Is this seriously how this is going to happen?

“Are you all right?”

Yep. Fucking great.

“No offense, but–” You rub your temples. “I’m having some problems right now and I’d really like to be alone.”

He’s quiet. But then he sits down next to you. “Well, I’ll be alone with you.”

The only reason you don’t glare at him is because it would hurt. He fidgets. “If you just don’t want to see a doctor, I know some basic first aid.”

First aid? What is he–

You laugh. Your head is pounding but he’s so sincerely sweet you can’t help but be amused. “Thanks, but it’s– I’m not hurt.” You wave your hand flippantly, because that’s all this warrants, really, no matter how dramatic you want to be. “Bad day and bad headache and bad circumstances. Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

He seems to relax on that front, but he doesn’t leave. In fact, he clears his throat. “I’m Steve Rogers. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You tell him your name and stick your hand in his general direction. His grip is gentle. “I’ve heard you introduce yourself to other people so I kind of already knew your name,” you admit. “Your boyfriend’s name is James, right?”

He’s silent and you look up. He’s frowning. Your stomach drops. “Shit; are you not out?” On one hand, it’s hard to ‘no homo’ a mouth-on-mouth kiss that happened right by the elevators. On the other hand, this is a very quiet floor and that was an odd hour. Maybe they just–

“No, no, we are, it’s just–” Steve clears his throat. “We weren’t. For a long time. So it’s still new and…nice when someone else says it.”

“Oh.” You smile. “I get that.”

He looks curious but your head resonates with a jolt of pain and you grimace. He chuckles. “Right, you have a headache. Um…” A jingling sound simultaneously delights and hurts you. He holds up your keys. “These might help.”

“No doubt.” You take the keys and allow him to help you up. In the time it takes you to unlock the door, he’s gathered up all the other stuff you dropped, including the bag of Styrofoam and food.

“Sorry, but I don’t think your leftovers made it,” Steve says and hands it to you.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t that good anyway.” You take your things. “Thanks. Goodnight.”

“Take some aspirin.”

“Sure, mom,” you say and roll your eyes. You cringe– even that hurts.

“Serves you right,” Steve says. Smug bastard. You flip him off and shut the door on his laughter.

You’re both friendly, but go back to passing each other at odd and inconvenient times. However you always give a smile or a wave or a nod, and Steve and James return the gestures in kind.

One day, though, you’re coming down the hall and you see someone sitting on the floor near your apartment. Or Steve’s. You can’t tell yet.

As you get closer, you recognize James, sitting in the space between your doors and so curled up he looks impossibly small for such an ordinarily large guy. He looks up as you approach and grunts a low greeting.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” you ask and glance at the door. Are they fighting?

“I forgot my key.”

The way he mumbles it makes it sound like he’s pouting and you clamp down on a laugh too late– it sounds like a snort. He looks at you and yes, he is pouting.

“Sorry, sorry.” You clear your throat. “One of the girls is still at the front desk.”

He shakes his head. “I’m just gonna wait for Steve. Thanks.”

He goes back to…brooding. Or staring at the wall until it moves. Or watching an intense movie in his mind. Or counting particles in the air with utmost focus. Whatever it is, he’s so into it that your obvious hesitation goes ignored.

You shuffle into your apartment and move slow. You don’t know why– the hallway is utterly benign. So harmless that even you were recently content to sit out there just because you didn’t want to deal with anything. But now you’re realizing why Steve stopped for you– it’s kind of sad.

You take a look around the living room for any ideas. Your eyes catch on a pack of cards just hanging out on a shelf. Perfect. You grab it, wipe the dust off on your pants, and go back into the hallway.

James is staring at the floor now and he doesn’t look up, not even when you sit in front of him. He does lift his head when you start dealing, though he doesn’t say anything. Not until after you settle down, pick up your hand, and ask him, “Got any fives?”

James sits and just blinks. You think you see a hint of a smile, but if it’s there then it’s gone just as fast. However he does pick up his hand and looks it over. “…Go fish.”

The game goes on and you’re almost at the end of it when Steve finally shows up. Apparently James hadn’t called him, given the absolute confusion in his voice when he says, “Bucky?” (Which– Bucky?)

“Shh,” James says and waves him off.

You scan your hand. You’re close but James is closer (because he’s a fucking cheater), and you can only take a wild stab in the dark. “Got any twos?”

James grins. “Go fish.”

You swear up and down James’s rotten lineage as you pull another card. A four. If that rat bastard–

“Got any fours?”

You throw the card at his face. He laughs and puts down his hand– two fucking fours, of course– and you aim your scowl at Steve because James has been utterly immune. From the way Steve’s smiling, he is too. “Your boyfriend is a fucking cheat.”

“Who do you think I learned it from?” James chuckles. He finishes putting the cards away, and stands and extends his hand to you. You take it. Begrudgingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says and looks away.

“Both of you need to leave; this building has no room for people who cheat at cards,” you say.

James snorts. “But it has room for a feared international assassin?”

You’re not sure if the hyperbole is based on something (Steve is incredibly popular and probably gets a lot of good gossip) but you feign serious consideration for the question nonetheless. “Still a better person than a cheater.”

James blinks. Steve hurries to grab him and tells you “Good night!” before all but dragging his boyfriend into their apartment.

An hour later, you’re just about settled in when someone knocks. You sigh but get up to see who and what and why. You’re not terribly surprised to see James, but you do give Steve an extra look over. He’s staring at the floor, head hunched in between his shoulders.

“Steve was telling me that you don’t know who we are,” James says.

“Should I?” you ask.

James nods and– almost monotonously– tells you about Steve being Steve Rogers as in Captain America and he himself being James Barnes as in Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes who was thought dead in World War II but captured by–

You know the story. Vaguely, but only people who live under rocks could have entirely missed the story of an American hero turned brainwashed assassin that played ad nauseum for months, and while you may not have recognized them, you know the basics. It’s a very sad story, and though James tries to tell it as blandly as possible, he can’t lift his head to look at you. By contrast, you can feel Steve staring at you.

At the end of it James goes silent and awaits your judgment. Sure, it’s surprising you live next to Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, but you’re not sure why James looks like he’s waiting for you to drop the guillotine.

“I hope you don’t think this gets you out of a rematch,” you say. James’s head snaps up and Steve lets out a startled little laugh. You stay focused on the man right in front of you though, as he slowly relaxes. You shake your head. “No mercy. Not even for grandpas.”

Steve laughs harder and James hangs his head again, but this time while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

“But yeah, it is good to know.” You flash them two thumbs up. “Nobody’s gonna, uh, try to wreck your apartment, are they?”

“No.” James quirks a smile. “Trust me; it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

You’re not sure how that would stop idiots from trying, but James’s smile is just on the edge of ‘terrifying,’ so you decide to trust him. “Okay.” You can’t think of anything else to say and turn to go back in. “Um…good night Steve, good night James.”

“Bucky.”

You stop and look at James. He’s scratching the back of his head. “If you don’t mind. James is for strangers. Bucky is for people I…know.”

“Okay. Night Steve, night Bucky,” you say and go back inside.

Steve and Bucky turn out to be pretty good neighbors. Steve is the kind of guy who always says hi, and only nods if he has no other (polite) choice. Bucky is quieter, and only ever nods at you. Well, mostly.

“Wait–” Bucky practically dives to catch your bag of groceries just as the handle breaks and it falls towards the ground. He catches it, but his knees hit hard enough that you wince.

“Oh– jeeze; Bucky!” you scold before you can help yourself. “Be careful; you’re going to hurt yourself if you do that!”

He stares at you. Right– active duty superhero. However.

“Thank you,” you say as he hands the bag to you. “But I don’t want to be the reason your knees give out.”

Bucky starts to roll his eyes and abruptly stops, like he suddenly remembers he’s trying to be polite. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.”

You shrug, though you catch that there’s more to it than that. It seems rude to ask though, especially since he and Steve are public figures and it’s your own fault you don’t know much past the basics. Is he as enhanced as Steve? You haven’t really considered that. If he’s exactly like Steve then yeah, it’s probably silly to worry about his knees. Still, that had sounded like it would hurt.

You figure you should probably do some research anyways; so you bid Bucky goodbye and go inside to put your stuff away and do some quick fact-checking online to give yourself some baseline understanding. So you don’t embarrass yourself again.

Your plan goes off the rails within the first ten minutes, and within the following twenty you can no longer take reading all the various think-pieces so you spend the rest of the evening letting out your frustration by writing angry letters you will never send. They range from general (“[…] like SOME people who don’t understand the meaning of TORTURED and BRAINWASHED […]”) to more specific (“Dear Daily Bugle, How the FUCK are you still in business you trash rag I wouldn’t use you to light a fire if I was freezing to death […]”).

You groan and rub your face after what feels like hours. Actually, it has been hours; it’s obviously late and you forgot about dinner, so you decide you should probably eat now that the rage isn’t feeding you anymore.

You’re just stepping out of your apartment when Steve comes out of his at the same time. It’s a little late to get the mail, but you can’t imagine why else he’d be out in loungewear.

“Hey,” you say as you lock your door.

“Hi,” Steve says. “You’re out late.”

“Yeah. I got distracted doing…stuff.” You turn to face him. “I’m just going to grab some food.”

“Good. That’s…good,” Steve says. He doesn’t leave. He stands there. Facing you.

“Do you need something?” you ask.

“Not exactly. I have to tell you that…” Steve shifts. “The walls are kind of thin, and Bucky and I have really good hearing, and, well…”

But he stops at that, and you cannot fathom what he’s getting at that makes him look like he wants to leap out of a window. “Okay, uh…was I making a lot of noise or–” Suddenly you remember all your angry muttering just minutes ago, next to the wall you share. “Oh. GOD.” You hide your face in your hands. “Oh god. Does Bucky like flowers? I need an apology bouquet; god, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay; I’m sorry we could overhear– we have a friend coming to fix that as soon as he can– but Bucky, he uh…” Steve takes a moment. “He thinks you were cursing at him.”

That makes no sense. To the point where you stop panicking so you can deconstruct that idea.

Nope. Still doesn’t make sense.

You lift your head and look at Steve. “Why would I be mad at Bucky for all the shit he has to wade through? I’m mad at the fucking blog writers and so-called “journalists” and commenters who are the absolute worst.”

Steve loses at least an inch of height when he exhales. “I told Bucky you weren't mad at him.” Steve looks at his apartment. “I told you.”

The door is wide open and Bucky is leaning on one side of the frame, arms crossed, and eyes entirely fixed on you. “Yeah,” you say, once again realizing he probably listened to everything. “Not you; I was bitching about the people who have all the brain power of a worm.” You reconsider that, because really, what have worms ever done to you? “Never mind; that’s mean to worms.”

Bucky’s laugh is harsh and startled, and then he’s silent. You clear your throat. “Since it’s already awkward…do you like hugs?”

Bucky’s scrunched face says ‘no,’ but what comes out of his mouth is, “It’s complicated.”

Enough said. “That’s okay; then…air hug.” You open your arms wide and mimic a hug. A hug for a giant, but Bucky smiles so you guess the sentiment gets through.

“What if I said I didn’t like air hugs?” he says.

“Then it would have gone to Steve and become an air chokehold.” You jerk your thumb at Steve. “He could have come and knocked and told me, but no, he had to let me embarrass myself. Jerk.”

Both of them laugh and then look surprised about it. You roll your eyes– what is with them that they’re so shocked to find themselves laughing? Bucky never looks like that when Steve makes him smile, so it’s not like amusement is a completely foreign concept. Before you’re tempted to ask, though, your stomach interrupts with a timely growl. “Right. You two have a nice night; I’m going to stuff myself until I’m in too much pain to even know what embarrassment is.”

“I could pay for your dinner. To apologize,” Steve says.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, wave, and get on your way. It’s much better to keep a grudge in this case– this way you can keep teasing them about it, and maybe someday you’ll make them laugh and they won’t be surprised by it.

The next day you’re out and about when you pass by a small flower shop and, well, why not? Flowers are nice and soft and you’re pretty sure Bucky isn’t sensitive to smell since that time someone stunk up the hallway with rotten seafood and he was the only one unaffected.

You walk right up to the counter and exchange greetings with the person behind it. “I’m looking for an apology bouquet. Something nice and classic; the guy I’m giving it to is…” You have no idea how to explain this situation and no desire to know what this person thinks of Bucky, so you end up finishing with, “Old. Very old.”

The florist smiles and nods, obviously well-versed in people who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing when it comes to flowers. After he shows you a few arrangements and you’re deciding between them, he tries to make small talk. “Is this for a grandparent?”

“Neighbor,” you say, not looking away from the two bunches you’re stuck on. “I was…accidentally inconsiderate, and he’s a nice guy, so I want to apologize.”

“I wish my neighbors would do that,” he says and sighs so forlornly you smile.

“Don’t we all,” you say, thinking back to past living arrangements. Steve and Bucky are quiet and kind. You hope they stay.

However when you have your pick and are up at the front paying for it (while also trying to ignore the price), the florist rifles behind the counter and comes out with temptation too great to resist. “This comes with a complimentary card. This is the normal one, but you mentioned your neighbor was older, so would this be better?”

There is the one small card that looks like it would fit the flowers fine. Next to it is an identical card except five times bigger and with a font that is easier to read.

You do your best not to smile like the sharks from “Finding Nemo” and tap on the bigger card. “This is perfect, thank you,” you say while you try to tell yourself, ‘fish are friends, not food; fish are friends, not food; fish are friends, not food; fish…friends…food…’

You get sushi for lunch and go home with a spring in your step. When you get there, Bucky and Steve’s door is open, and stuff of the technological sort is piled around just outside it. You can barely hear them talking from somewhere inside, and you place the flower vase just outside their door. Hopefully they see it before they step on it.

You’re in the middle of cleaning the kitchen when you hear loud laughter in the hall. You ignore it at first but it keeps going…and going…and you hear Steve laugh in a relatively short burst. You slowly stop, and then go to your room and stand by your desk.

“Bucky, if you can hear me and you’re okay with texting…” You hesitate, but give him your number. You barely get the chance to feel like an idiot when your phone suddenly buzzes. You jump, because that was fast, and pull it off the charger to see a text from an unfamiliar number that reads ‘???’.

You: Who’s the hyena? Bucky: lol Bucky: stark Bucky: by the way did i use lol right? Bucky: im pretty old, so i dont know

You laugh but glance at the door. Bucky and Steve are sort of in the public eye, but just out of it enough that you didn’t recognize them right away. Tony Stark, though, is a living spectacle– you’re shocked the guy can go anywhere without a bunch of reporters getting underfoot. You are incredibly curious to see him in the flesh after years of tabloids and news reports and– you’re just curious okay? But you’ve also reached your limit of ‘awkward’ for the day and without an actual reason to stick your head out, you’d just be assuring yourself embarrassment, so you shrug it off.

However when someone knocks and takes that choice away from you, all that previous curiosity flees and leaves you with only, “Ugh.”

Your phone buzzes.

Bucky: serves you right You: I’m taking back that air hug You: You’re both jerks

But you go and answer the door. Tony Stark with a bright, genuine smile looks so different from what you’ve seen before that you actually do a double-take. Steve is hovering behind him and smiles apologetically. You clear your throat. “Um…hi?”

“Hi, I’m Tony Stark and you are my new favorite person,” he says and shakes your hand like he’s on something.

“Don’t worry; he gets a new one every five minutes,” Steve says, unconcerned with his twitchy friend.

“Oh good. Being someone’s favorite person seems like a lot of pressure,” you say.

Tony then proceeds to talk, which is exhausting for you but somehow not so for him. When you find out he hasn’t slept in three days it makes more sense as to why he seems only slightly tweaked rather than full tilt. Eventually Steve manages to gently maneuver Tony back to what he was doing and you escape back into your home after a polite but very quickly given goodbye.

Steve comes by later to apologize for Tony and you all test out the soundproofing tech. They say it works great, which is a relief, and you assume that now the excitement has gone down, things will go back to a friendly-but-distant normal.

Except that they don’t get distant. In fact, even Bucky greets you with a word or few more often than not, and Steve…well, it’s hard to say since he’s always been nice, but you think he’s more genuine with you. And after a couple of weeks of observation you can say that for certain– Steve is always, always kind but he definitely has a face for strangers and a face for friends.

You almost drop your key when you realize that’s what you are– friends. New friends, but…

“Are you okay?”

You turn your head to see Steve leaning against the wall. “Hey. When did you get back?”

“Late last night.” Steve stands upright. “I was thinking…I never made it up to you for not telling you sooner about the walls, so I wanted to see if you would come to dinner with me and Bucky. You pick, I treat. It could double as a birthday dinner.”

You open your mouth to politely decline when you realize something. “When did I…I didn’t tell you when my birthday was.”

Steve looks down. “No. Uh…no. You didn’t.”

You take a deep breath. “So how do you know it’s today?”

Steve finds the floor very fascinating. “A friend of mine ran a background check. I’m so sorry; I didn’t tell her to but she, uh, she sort of does what she wants.”

“When did you find out about the background check?”

“Just this morning.” Steve lifts his head and flashes you a boyish smile and oof. “When she told me to wish you a happy birthday.”

You deflate but the irritation stays. Even though you logically know it’s not Steve’s fault. “Okay,” you say. “I will absolutely let you pay for me to eat my feelings.”

Steve smiles brightly. “Great! When and where?”

“Anytime after I change my clothes, and I’m thinking that burger place just down the block. I forget the name; by the stationery store.”

“The new place?”

You nod. “It smells good but it’s trendy as fuck and I wasn’t sure I wanted to pay for it. Enter: you.”

He laughs. “Okay then; I’ll talk to Bucky and find out if he’s up to it.”

“I could eat.”

You jump but Bucky just stands there, smirking, and Steve laughs. You put your hand to your chest. “I can’t believe you’re treating me like this on my birthday.”

“You weren't going to tell us it was your birthday,” Bucky accuses, which takes you back a bit, because were you supposed to?

“Well, no, but now that it’s out I’m going to take full advantage,” you say. “Gimme a few to change out of my work clothes and I’ll be ready. You just…hang out or powder your noses or something.”

“Bossy,” Bucky says.

“It’s my birthday,” you say imperiously and slip into your apartment while they laugh.

You’re fast becoming fond of the sound.

Dinner is great and Steve insists on stopping to get a cake, which you all take back to their apartment to eat. Bucky pulls out a pack of cards and you play “Go Fish” which…you lose. Then you play “Gin Rummy” which…you also lose. “Hearts,” unsurprisingly, you lose, and out of desperation you scan their shelf of board games for something you might have a chance at. “Risk” immediately gets the mental axe, but “Jenga” holds promise.

Except in the end you lose that too, and when the structure crumbles (close, you were so fucking close) so too does your simmering irritation and you let out a long string of curses before you can even think to control your mouth.

“Wow,” Steve says, audibly impressed. “I haven’t heard something that profane since the army.”

“Thank you,” you say in your kindest voice. “Also– go fuck yourselves.”

They both laugh and you smile because they really feel like your friends now. Asshole friends but, well, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

One day when Bucky is on his own, again without his key, you invite him in and try to regain some of your lost honor.

That’s a mistake.

You: I’m kicking Bucky out You: You can collect him on the curb You: Just make sure you get here before the garbage trucks do Steve: Aw Steve: Whatd he win at this time? You: Scrabble You: You photographic memory fucks Bucky: you are the sorest damn loser i ever met in my life You: EXCUSE YOU You: YOU ARE NOT INVITED You: TO THIS CONVERSATION You: BEGONE Bucky: 9 points

You put in the tableflip emoji and resist the urge to throw your phone at Bucky’s laughing face.

You all agree to never again speak of “Ticket to Ride.”

That agreement goes double for “Battlestar Galactica.” However you’re secretly pleased that Steve is apparently a better liar than even Bucky knows. Bucky isn’t so happy but that fucker cheats at “Hearts.” His opinions are null and void.

“Hi, can I help y–”

You turn from locking your door to see who Steve is talking to, but he’s looking at you and his jaw drops. Even Bucky’s eyes go wide, and you roll your own.

“Yeah, yeah; laugh it up,” you mutter and straighten your outfit. Black tie events aren’t really your forte, but work is paying for drinks and food so you figured why the hell not.

“You look great,” Bucky blurts out.

“Oh…thanks,” you say, caught off guard by his effusive sincerity. They’re both staring at you though and they’re both unreadable in this moment. You clear your throat. “Hey, since you’re here…” You hold out your arms and do a slow turn. When you return to face them you let your arms flop back down. “Do I look okay?”

“Amazing,” Steve says. “Where are you off to?”

“Company party.” You shrug. “It’s not normally my scene but I’m not gonna turn down free food and an open bar.”

“Good thinking.” Steve smiles. “Your date is real lucky.”

You grimace before you can catch it, and Steve’s smile falls. Damn it; now you’re really looking forward to that open bar. “No date, which is nice because I can duck out whenever I want.”

Steve nods rapidly and as you see Bucky hover behind him you try to diffuse the situation with a joke. “Not all of us can be so lucky.”

Either you sound more bitter than you think or Steve just can’t make the distinction right now. Regardless– it backfires. He runs his hand through his hair and looks down and does all but shrink before your very eyes. “I’m so sorry, I–”

“Hey.” You put your hand on his arm and give him a moment to shrug it off. He doesn’t, and when he looks at you you try to give him your very best smile. “I was trying to make a joke. It was probably really bad. I’m sorry.”

“Well…” He frowns but at least he’s not about to roll himself up in the carpet anymore. “I’m still sorry.”

“I’m going to choose to believe you’re apologizing for being stubborn,” you say.

“How dare you.” Steve smiles. “I would never apologize for that.”

He still comes off as tightly wound, so you open your arms. “Hug it out? Just…watch the outfit.”

He chuckles but moves in without hesitation. It’s a good hug; warm, softer than it should be, and yet surprisingly strong. You’re not going to complain though– Bucky truly is a lucky guy. You step back from Steve and are going to tell Bucky so, but you find his arms open.

“I wasn’t a stubborn jerk,” he says slyly. “Do I get a hug?”

You feel a smile take over your face and you move towards him slowly. His hug is different, but just as good– still warm, a little more stiff; straddling the line between tight and loose, like he wants to hold on but he’s afraid. You squeeze once and then let go. They’re both very lucky. This time, though, you take a moment and decide not to say that out loud. You’re sure they already know it anyway.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get to your nice relaxing night in.” You smooth out your front. “I’m going to drink some booze on the company dime.”

“Be safe,” Steve says. “Call us if you have any trouble.”

You salute him and get on your way.

“There you are.”

You jolt upright, trying to pull yourself out of your dozing. It’s still cold and you’re still stuck outside with everyone else while the firefighters do their inspection. You know it’s a big building and they’re doing their job and all that. You just wish they could do it a little faster.

“Hey,” you say to Steve and Bucky while they do an inspection of their own. Well not everyone can look so fabulous in the midst of a fire alarm. “You didn’t let Steve near the oven, did you?”

“Very funny,” Steve says. “That was one time. And I’ve never set off the building.”

“Hm,” you say suspiciously but leave him be. The cold isn’t terrible but it is uncomfortably distracting.

“Geeze, you gotta be freezing,” Bucky says and shrugs the blanket off his shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’m fi-” Bucky dumps the blanket over your head like you’re an unsightly lamp he’s trying to hide. “Dick.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Bucky teases and Steve laughs.

“Mmf.” You could take the blanket off…but it seems like so much work. Either Bucky or Steve ends up pulling it off your head and draping it over your shoulders. You’re not sure who– it takes too much effort to open your eyes again. “Thanks.”

“It’s a little early to be pulled out of a dead sleep,” Steve says. “Either you’re sick or you’re older than us.”

“Hardy ha–” You yawn. “Har.” You clear your throat and blink yourself awake. “Or I’ve been doing overtime all week and finally got a chance to crash.” When the fire alarm had gone off you had almost cried. You had most certainly debated the merits of suffocation and/or burning to death, before you crawled out of bed and stumbled down flights of stairs with everyone else.

“Hopefully we’ll go back in soon,” Steve says. “Here, stand between us; we run pretty warm.”

You’re about to protest that the blanket is more than enough and you’re not going to put them out even further but then Bucky and Steve move to stand on either side of you and the warmth melts your tongue. It’s nice; it’s so damn nice. It isn’t like they’re portable space heaters, they’re just… More than just warm, you feel safe, you feel good. You shut your eyes and soak it in.

“Hey.”

You jolt again and lift your head from where you had rested it– on Steve’s arm. And notice that most everyone is inside.

You panic and throw the blanket at Bucky while you try to put at least a foot between you and Steve. “I am so sorry!”

“It’s all right!” Steve says, laughing, while Bucky uncovers himself. You back away, not sure why you’re so embarrassed, but feeling an innate need to extricate yourself right now.

“Well, um, thanks for the blanket, but I love my bed way more than I love you,” you say. They laugh and you run inside.

Only to come to a sudden stop. The line for the few elevators is ridiculous and the lobby is a cacophony of talking, complaining, laughing adults and babbling and crying children.

You eye the elevators and you eye the stairwell door. Begrudgingly, you go to the stairs and slip inside. Apparently everyone who was willing to walk up has already done so, because it’s completely quiet and that is a massive improvement in and of itself. Technically you’re awake enough, so you resign yourself to a long, slow climb and start on your way.

It only takes you until the second floor to regret your choice, the third floor to regret your life, and the fourth floor to take a break. You’re leaning on the railing and considering just living here now when the first floor door opens and you can see Bucky and Steve come in. They wave at you and you wave back, and they turn to each other to talk. After a few seconds they start arguing about something. Then they start goofing off, shoving at and dodging each other even as they run up the stairs with ease.

They also get so loud. “Can not!” and “Can too!” bounce off the walls as they get closer to where you are.

“Do you mind?” you ask and turn to rest your back on the rail. “Some of us are trying to die in peace.”

“Sorry, but this guy–” Bucky jerks his thumb at his boyfriend, “–thinks he can beat me up the stairs.”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry Buck; it’s science.”

“You little– you don’t know shit about science.” Bucky huffs. “I could beat you handily.”

“Oh yeah?”

They argue and you zone out. Until you hear your name. “What?”

“I told Steve I could beat him there with you on my back.” Bucky’s full-on grinning. “How about it?”

You squint at how far you’ve come. At how far you have to go. And then at Bucky. “You promise to win?”

“Absolutely.”

It seems like a dumb idea– until you’re on Bucky’s back. Then you feel warm and safe again, and once the race starts the jostling is only just enough to keep you holding on.

“We’re here.”

Bucky’s voice is gentle but you grumble at having to stand on your own power again. “Did you win?”

“By a mile,” Bucky chuckles as you fumble with the lock.

“Because he cheated,” Steve says.

“Now who’s a sore loser?” But you smile at them. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Bucky says.

“Good night. Go get your beauty sleep,” Steve says. “Not that you need it.”

“We need to play poker. If that’s how you lie I might have a shot.”

You go inside as Steve acts offended and Bucky laughs. Bed calls and you slip into cool sheets, recalling warm bodies and blankets protecting you from the full chill of the air. Even now in the one place you feel safest in the world, it feels like you lack something. Your eyes snap open when you realize.

You don’t love your bed more than you love them.

Shit.

The next morning, when you run into Steve and he looks worried and asks if you got any sleep, you force a smile and tell him you’re fine. He responds with a hug.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It has been a long few weeks. Directly after the fire alarm you were too busy to see much of Steve and Bucky and it was a relief. Until they got called out and within a few days you began to worry like you haven’t worried before. Nothing in the news has had anything about the Avengers so they’re either off the planet with Thor (talk about sentences you never thought would cross your mind) or they’re underground. And with every day they’re gone you grow afraid a group of suits are going to randomly show up, take everything out of their apartment, and the next thing you’ll see will be a shitty news headline like “NATION IN MOURNING.”

So when you turn down your hall and see someone standing by their door, your heart leaps and you stumble. It’s just one woman though, in casual clothes, with red hair and, as you approach, a familiar face. She relaxes against the wall between your apartment and theirs and where you feel wary, her expression is impassive.

“Hello,” she says.

“Hi.” You nod at their side. “Are you waiting for…”

She shrugs and pushes off the wall to face you. “You know, I don’t think we’ve met.” She puts her hand out. “Natasha Romanoff.”

You shake her hand and introduce yourself even as you stare at her. She’s very, very familiar. After a few seconds you remember, vividly, seeing her and Bucky talk and laugh as she had left their apartment one day.

“Background check,” you blurt out.

Theoretically, logically, they could (and probably do) have more than one friend going by ‘she.’ Natasha’s slight smile, however, confirms your suspicion. “I heard you were upset about that.”

You shrug. “It’s a little invasive.”

She nods. “I’m not very…” Her smile turns almost brittle. “Cuddly, you could say. But Steve and Bucky are my friends, and I look out for them in what ways I can.”

You notice there’s no apology, but you already knew you wouldn’t be getting one. Just as you’re about to excuse yourself though, she speaks up again. “They say a lot of good things about you.”

“They…do?” You can admit to yourself, you’re pleased at the thought. “They’re nice guys.”

“That they are,” Natasha says, giving ominous weight to an otherwise innocuous statement. She then turns and walks away. “Be good to them.”

You jerk your head back instinctively. “We…we live next door to each other; we’re just neighbors.”

“For now.”

You don’t know what that means and you’re honestly afraid to ask. You’ve just barely met her and only spoken with her for less than ten minutes; she doesn’t know how you feel. Yet her words and ghost-like vanishing make you feel uneasy even as you step into your own sanctuary.

That’s also when you realize she never actually said ‘yes’ when you asked if she was waiting on Bucky and Steve.

You’re still chewing on that interaction even hours later when you hear a loud thump in the hall and then a curse in Bucky’s voice. Without thinking, you race to open the door and look out.

Steve is still in uniform– you can see it peeking out of his half-zipped jacket, and his hair is a mess. Bucky is even worse, with dirt smudged on his face and holding his left arm protectively as he and Steve bicker softly. “I’m telling you, it’s fine and I can fix it myse-”

Bucky stops and looks right at you. You hesitate, but just going back inside isn’t really an option. Besides, you don’t really feel ashamed for this. You walk towards them and as soon as you can, put your arms around them both. As much as you can– they’re both so big– but they come closer together, which helps, and they hug you too, which…

“We’re okay,” one of them says, and it’s enough.

Steve is standing in the hall. He’s a vision even in a white t-shirt and gray lounge pants, (who gave him the right, you wonder with some agony), but his face is pinched into a scowl.

“Are you all right?” you ask.

Like magic, his face relaxes. “I’m fine, it’s just…” Steve waves a hand at his apartment and then runs it through his hair.

This isn’t completely unfamiliar. You look at the door and wonder if Bucky’s okay. Well, Steve would be appropriately concerned if he wasn’t, even if they were fighting. Plus, Steve’s frustration actually makes him look very cute. He’s pouting, and no one is in any real trouble when pouting is involved. “If I’m understanding this right…basically you’re having some problems and you’d like to be alone right now?”

He smiles, despite his own best efforts not to, and nods.

“Do you want to be alone with me?”

He stares at nothing for a few seconds. When he looks at you, he appears so unsure you want to pull him into your arms. You resist. Barely.

“Could I?” he asks.

You open your door and gesture grandly at it. Steve goes in and you follow, darting ahead really quick to pull some clothes (clean, thank goodness) off the couch. “One second,” you say as he sits. You chuck your shit in your room and go make some instant hot chocolate for the both of you. Steve seems content to sit quietly, giving you time to add mountains of whipped cream, before you carefully approach the sofa.

“Are we supposed to be able to drink this?” Steve asks.

“Eventually.” You hand him a spoon and you both work at your dessert-drinks until you’re sipping at warmth.

Steve clears his throat. “Do you want to play a game?” he asks innocently with a smile that is anything but.

“I’d rather sign up for a Pokémon tournament hosted by Jigsaw.” You pretend to flick your drink at him. “It’s pretty telling that you seem to be feeling better when you start acting like an asshole.”

“Seem to be,” Steve repeats.

You shrug and bring your mug to your mouth. “Are you and Bucky okay?”

“Ye-s!” Steve chokes on his drink. “Yes; sorry,” he says and puts his cup down. You, a true hero, do not laugh once as he wipes away errant liquid chocolate. “We’ve had much worse fights,” he says as he settles back in. “We’re just disagreeing about how to solve a…problem.”

“Big problem or little problem?” you ask.

Steve studies you. Like he isn’t sure how much to divulge. “It’s…” He sighs and rubs his face. “It’s a risk. The reward is pretty great, but…”

“…The consequences might make it not worth it?” you guess but he shakes his head.

“It’s absolutely worth it.” Steve stares at you again so intently that you have to force yourself not to look right at his lips as his tongue passes over them. You outta get a medal for this shit. “But Bucky thinks we should act slow.”

“And you want to shove in?”

Steve turns so red that you jerk up, concerned that he might be choking again, except his drink is well and truly gone. “Not exactly,” he says, his voice in a stranglehold.

“What…oh.” You roll your eyes. “Bad choice of words; fine. And here I thought Bucky was the pervert.”

“Just sometimes,” Steve says with a smile. He regains what little color he has, at least, and clears his throat a few times. “Anyway; I think that being more direct is the best way to handle this.”

“How slow is ‘slow?’” you ask and swirl your drink to mix the chocolate collating at the bottom of the cup.

Steve sighs. “I should…find out,” he admits. “I might have overreacted.”

“Just a little.”

You jerk your head to see– Bucky, leaning his back against the door. He glowers and points at you. “You. Lock your door. Always.”

“Sorry.” You put up your hands. “Got distracted; it won't happen again.”

Bucky winces and glances back. “Hey, no, sorry,” you say and stand. “I wasn’t– I’m sorry; that was flippant. Can I…?” You open your arms. Bucky looks at them longingly but ends up shaking his head. “That’s okay,” you say and do what passes for an air hug.

“Just a little?” Steve repeats.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “So maybe I…stuck in a little too much too.”

“It’s all right Buck. I should have been willing to talk it out more,” Steve says. But he doesn’t get up. Interesting. Apparently Steve is not the exception to the ‘no touching’ rule. However the looks they give each other more than make up for whatever contact doesn’t happen: loving, gentle, and expressive in a way that makes you feel like an intruder. It also makes you ache.

You clear your throat. “I want to ask if I should leave you two alone, but I’m also worried for my apartment if I do.”

Bucky laughs and Steve covers his face. They stay a while, and for a guy who starts off no-touching, Bucky sure as hell abandons it as soon as he’s able. You find yourself, some time later, with Bucky up against your side, his face in your shoulder, laughing at something Steve just said. Steve is on your other side and close enough that he can support you as Bucky’s weight naturally pushes you into him. You don’t feel suffocated though. You feel comfortable. Warm. So warm and comfortable that it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You’ve long since given up on trying to follow what they’re talking about– you’re just trying to stay awake.

“You still with us?” Bucky asks, and his voice then encases your name with amusement.

“Mm hm,” you lie through your vocal chords. Consciousness is out of your control now and you drift along in a light doze as they shift and move. You feel weightless but even warmer, with a soft something to lean your head against. Bucky and Steve are muted voices in the background; soothing, like steady rain behind a shut window, or the low conversations that fill a coffee shop.

You relax fully when you feel your mattress and sheets beneath you. Bucky and Steve are still talking but you fade out, not really caring about what they’re talking about.

Until you wake up the next morning to sunlight and rumpled clothes and shit you fell asleep on them you are the worst host ever.

You scramble out of bed and stumble over sleepy legs until you’re standing in front of Steve and Bucky’s door. You knock without hesitation and when it opens, Steve looks mildly surprised to see you.

“I am so sorry,” you say. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on you; that was so rude and I can’t apologize enough–”

“It’s all right,” Steve says, laughing. He looks you up and down. “Did you just wake up?”

You don’t even want to know. “Gee, how’d you guess?”

He smiles brightly and now that you aren’t panicking your body is alerting you that it is too damn early for this shit. “Do you want to come in and have some coffee?” he asks and stands aside.

You’re about to refuse out of politeness but the smell drifts out like a lure, and there’s Bucky, sitting at the counter, sipping his cup and looking softly sleep-ruffled. And you should apologize to him too; it’s only fair. So you accept Steve’s invitation. Only so you can apologize. Not because Steve is freshly showered and smells like really good aftershave, or because Bucky’s eyes are drooping and a sunbeam is making a halo from the fuzzy outliers of his hair.

“Hey,” you say as you approach him. “I’m sorry I–”

Bucky waves his hand in a very Jedi-like way and he pats the stool next to him. You take it. “Too early for words?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head. “No need to apologize,” he says, his voice rough enough that you can practically feel it scratch your skin. You make the mistake of looking at his stubble and you shudder, but thankfully he’s turned away and doesn’t notice. “Actually, I’m the one who should apologize.”

“Huh?”

Bucky puts a key in front of you. Your key. Your spare key. You look at him, questioning, but he stares at his drink. “You were sleeping,” he mumbles. “And you can’t lock the deadbolt without a damn key. So I borrowed it.”

“I insisted,” Steve says, putting a steaming mug of heavenly smelling elixir right in front of you. “It was either that, or disable the noise-blocking device so we could keep an ear out.”

“Not in a creepy way,” Bucky adds.

“Guys,” you say. “I know we live in New York but I’m fine.” You pocket the key. “But…thanks; that was thoughtful.” And only slightly creepy.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky says and dares to look at you.

“No. I trust you.” You doubt they know how much you trust them. “You were way too nice though; next time just dump me on my ass.”

“Not a chance.” Steve’s smile is…sneaky. Why is he being sneaky? “You were too relaxed. You looked cute.”

You accidentally send a shot of coffee straight to your lungs. “Wha–” You cough a few more times and breathe deep. “I what?”

“Is it that hard for you to take a compliment?” Bucky says, laughing.

You shake your head but smile at Steve. “Either you keep getting better at lying, or you need your eyes checked.”

Steve looks at Bucky, who says, “Nope, he’s right. Adorable.”

“Two against one. You lose,” Steve says.

You roll your eyes and bring your cup back to your mouth. “Story of my life since you cheating assholes moved in,” you mutter into the mug before you take a sip. They laugh. You don’t really belong here, in Bucky and Steve’s apartment with the light brightly announcing its arrival and both of them loose and vibrant in ways they can’t be outside that door. You don’t belong here. You don’t.

But you feel like you do. And sometimes it’s nice to pretend.

“Here.”

It’s night and you, Bucky, and Steve are sitting around, having drinks. Well, after they insisted you stay for breakfast, it seemed only right for you to invite them over for dinner. Polite. Yes, you are very polite.

So it’s with extreme hesitance that you accept the envelope Steve is holding out. Your name is written on the front in beautiful calligraphy, and you open it to find an invitation.

“Wow,” you say at the fancy script. You frown. “I met Tony Stark for all of five minutes that he probably thinks he hallucinated. Why am I getting invited to his party?”

“Technically it’s a charity event. And he asked us if there was anyone we wanted to invite,” Steve said. “Naturally, we thought of you.”

“Naturally,” you say as a joke, but it comes out weak. They’re fidgeting and barely faking nonchalance. Is this that important?

“Free booze and food, and it’s always good stuff,” Bucky says. He flashes you a smile. “How about it?”

You wave the card and try for a smile of your own. “Okay,” you say and clear your throat. “But I’ve only got the one nice outfit.”

“I know for a fact we wouldn’t mind seeing you in it again.”

The way Steve says that is full, heavy; like the words fill his throat on the way out. All pretense at humor dies and you look from him, to Bucky, to back and forth and back again.

“What…” You have to remind yourself to breathe. It’s hard, with both of them staring at you like that. “What are you saying?”

Steve looks at Bucky, receives a nod, and then approaches you. You don’t pull away, but even when he’s standing right in front of you, Steve moves slower than a snail. He gives you more than enough time to move back, and when he finally presses his lips to yours it feels like something in your chest snaps and you hold onto his shoulders to help support yourself. And if that pulls him closer to you, well…

…neither of you are complaining.

When you pull back to breathe, you’re not surprised to see Bucky there, but that cord in your chest pulls taut again, until you and he kiss as well. Steve doesn’t move away and you don’t realize you have one hand still gripping his shirt until he puts his hand over yours. Your other hand is gripping Bucky’s left shoulder. Normally sensitive about it, he doesn’t seem to even notice right now.

He’s smiling. It’s loose, and goofy, and beautiful. “Is it bad form to kiss before the first date?”

Your own smile grows. “Well…I did invite you both over for dinner.”

Steve laughs. “Does this mean this is the first date?”

It’s more than you could have ever believed would happen. And to think, it only came in response to them having you over for breakfast, which occurred because Steve and Bucky were having a–

Wait a minute.

Wait a god-damned minute.

You go over everything from the night before that you can remember and then you frown at Steve. “Hey. Hey.”

He and Bucky both stop smiling. “What?” Steve asks.

You huff. “So I’m a problem?”

“Oh.” Steve fights it, but the smile creeps onto his face, regardless. Then he puts his hand under your chin and barely grazes your skin and you lose all capability of thought any higher than ‘guh’. “I did say the reward was worth it.”

“And uh…” You inhale sharply when he tilts your face up. “What reward would that be?”

Steve and Bucky don’t leave for another hour and it’s a good thing they’re just next door, with how unsteady they are. The parting is reluctant on both sides, but Steve and Bucky are still a little proper (just a little, thankfully) and you want to get a good night’s sleep. You’re going shopping tomorrow– it’s your turn to surprise them.

You’ll show Steve what a problem is.

#shotthroughtheheart3k #bucky x steve x reader #stucky x reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #romance #strangers to friends to lovers

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