#6 underground four x reader

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

One

5/?

PREV (Room for Two) / NEXT

tags: @transeliot @mentallyunstablebish @sarah0687 @cjand10 @warmommy if you would like to be added or removed from my writing tag just lemme know :)

summary: Billy busts his stitches as you find an intruder in your home

pairing(s): Billy/Four x gn!reader

word count: 1.7k

Warnings: emotions, repressed feelings, angst, fluff, mention of hospitals, blood and injury, negative and complex emotions. poor writing skills, poor proofreading and editing, an american writing a brit. i think thats it? I know its been too long since the last part but here ya go

  “Hi!” the man said with a wave and a quick smile.

   “Who the fuck are you?” 

   “I’m One” 

   “Okay…One… get out” 

   “ can’t Sorry” 

   “You Can't?” your voice was getting louder “why not? Why are you here?” your tone was steady and determined, not at all mimicking the panic you were feeling on the inside “GET. OUT.”

   “Look, I just need to speak to the boy” 

   “Why” 

   The man paused, watching you for a moment, calculating a response  “He broke a promise” 

   “Join the club” 

   The corners of his mouth twitched upwards at your quick rebuttal he composed himself and leaned forward so his elbow rested on his knees “look, normally i wouldn't let anyone sit in on the discussion we’re gonna have but ill make an exception for you. This is going against my better judgment and breaks so many rules but you may stay.” 

   “I MAY STAY?!” you nearly bellowed 

   One winced, deeply regretting his phrasing but responded by shifting his eyeline behind you and letting out a loud “FOUR!” 

 You heard a thump and your bedroom door swinging open and Billy appeared panicked, if your voice hadn't woken him, Ones sure as hell did. 

  “So nice of you to join us” one said with a petty smile as he leaned back again and pulled a gun from inside his jacket which he rested calmly on the cushion beside him. 

  “Shit” 

   “Yeah, shit is right my friend. Did you think i wouldn't find you? Did you really think id just let you go?”

   “Billy w-what's going on?” your eyes shifted from one to billy. Billys face was sad, panicky and apologetic as he met your gaze. 

   “Wait- you haven't even told them yet?” one was shocked then after a moment he started laughing. You looked back at the strange man who collected himself enough to say “well… are ya gonna? Cuz nows your chance big guy.” 

   Your gaze flipped back to your former… whatever he was to you “what's he talking about?” you paused hoping he’d respond, his mouth dropped open but he uttered no words, his eyes big and regretful. You turned your body and faced him fully “Billy?” you grabbed one of his hands as you attempted to get him to finally tell you the truth but you stopped as you felt how clammy his hand felt. You glanced down and let it drop from your hands, you looked up again and saw his face had paled “Billy?” you asked, scared and concerned, one of your hands went to softly cup his cheek. Your eyes shifted from his face and slowly down his body until you saw his other hand pressed to his abdomen with red seeping into his shirt around his hand. “Shit” you breathed as you gingerly moved his hand 

   “shit“ he agreed 

   “Okay…” your mind was racing “your stitches probably bust. we should-” 

   “No more hospitals” 

   “But-” 

   “I agree no more hospitals” the man piped up

   You whirled around, your hands not leaving Billys body, and snapped “you shut up” you faced billy again, “babe this could be really bad, we should-”   He shook his head, his hand cupped your cheek “no hospital” he pleads “I know its been a long time but I'm sure you remember enough from patching us up back in the day to fix me” 

   You stared into his eyes for a moment before, captivated by the trust radiating from him. You nodded and you lead him to the bathroom. He sat on the closed toilet seat and you grabbed your first aid kit, hoping there'd be enough of what you’d need and convincing yourself it's not as bad as your gut was telling you it is. 

   You turned to find billy smiling to himself “what?” you asked

   “You called me ‘babe’” 

   You knelt in front of him “and? What of it?” 

   “You haven't called me that in a long time is all” his hand was clutching his still bleeding abdomen as the splotch on his shirt continued to expand.

   “And whose fault is that?” you asked as you tapped his hand, signally him to uncover his wound. He did without hesitation and your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, your mind flashing back to the hundreds of times you'd been in similar situations as kids, as teens, as young adults, as friends, as lovers. You’d patched him up a ton over the years because of his insistence on being a “physical badass” as he put it. Billy has been nearly obsessed with mastering parkour since he was a kid and you always supported him even tho the number of times he got- sometimes seriously- hurt was hard for you to see. But you learned to patch him up and he taught you some cool stuff too. You were by no means good at parkour but you had gotten pretty agile and gained some decent skills. 

   It's been a while, obviously, and this was different. This wasn't a scrape or a skinned knee or even a dislocated joint, this was a deep open wound that had just been reopened. You were nervous, your hands shook as you grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. You dropped the shirt to the floor and billy grabbed your trembling hand. 

   “Hey, It’s okay. You’ve got this, love” you couldn't look at him, your eyes focused on the first aid kit next to his discarded shirt. “I trust you. I know I fucked up and I know you need time and answers. I will tell you everything in time. I promise. But I need time too. I don't even know where to start with it all” you still couldn't look up at him. His big green eyes always gave him away, always expressed exactly what he was thinking and feeling and always made you melt a little. You didn't know what he’d been through but you deserved answers, sooner rather than later. 

“I trust you” he whispered again 

   “Well isn't that sweet” 

  Billys eyes shifted to the door where this ‘one’ now leaned against the frame while yours slid shut in an attempt to collect yourself. You stood and with a muttered “fuck off” you gave one a shove and closed the door in his face. You returned to your spot in front of billy, took a deep breath and started attending to his ripped stitches. You’d stitched him up once before after a misstep that resulted in a gash on his leg. He had insisted on no hospitals then as well and so you’d researched the basics of giving stitches and purchased the supplies most of which were still in your first aid kit. 

    You could feel billys eyes on you as you worked but you needed to ignore him and focus on having steady hands and make sure everything was as sanitary as possible given this was being done in your bathroom. Billys breathing was heavy and he was hissing and swearing under his breath every so often. You knew he had to be in a lot of pain, once or twice you winced with him, but you had to keep going. There was no stopping now, the second you’d started it was too late for either of you to change your minds.

   When you were finally done sewing him up, you finally glanced up at him and found him again looking at you with soft emotional eyes. You looked away, grabbed the gauze, covered the wound and said as you collected the items you’d strewn across the floor “we’ll need to change the gauze and reapply the disinfectant every few hours. You will not make any sudden movements or do anything to rip them again, yeah?” you stood and when you heard his soft “yeah” in response you headed to the kitchen sink to wash the blood from your hands. 

   “You guys are just so darn cute” 

   You gritted your teeth, rinsed the red-tinted soap down the drain and dried your hands. You turned to face the peculiar and irritating man “what promise?” 

   He looked taken aback, you weren't sure if it was your question or demeanor or something else entirely but it was written all over his features when he didn't answer you restated your question 

   “What was the promise he broke?” 

   “To you or to me?”

   “You” 

   One sighed and gestured to the chair across from where he was seated on your couch. You obliged and sat. he leaned forward, elbows on his knees again “since it seems he will not be filling you in any time soon I suppose I will.” 

  Your brow furrowed, knitting closer and closer together, and your mind raced as he spoke. You of course wanted to know about billy and his part in all this but one question stayed at the forefront of your mind as one rambled on.  Why was he telling you all this?

    When you asked you expected a short snarky answer maybe real maybe not but here he was telling you in detail about his operation and about everything they’d done. He went through each member and listed their skills and what they’d agreed to when joining him. He even went through how everyone's death was faked. By keeping tabs on you and by risking everything to feel near you and hopefully re-enter your life he’d broken every rule he agreed to when joining them and how he’d missed something because he was distracted by you and he landed himself in the hospital. 

   There was a pause after he’d finished then, 

   “Your turn” 

   You didn't move to look at him having expected this was transactional, but you still couldn't figure out why he’d told you so much. you said simply “he left, he lied, he hurt me” 

   You felt One’s eyes burning a hole in your head after a moment he said in a surprisingly soft and genuine tone “that seems like an oversimplification of a lot of history and a lot of promises” and he wasn't wrong 

   You murmured a soft “yeah” and stood. You turned, unsurprised to find Billy standing somewhere between the bathroom and where you and One were sitting, his eyes big and round and sad. His body language radiated shame from where he stood. “Ill give you two some time to talk” and with that, you went into your bedroom and closed the door. 

 Even though you'd only been awake for a few hours you were so emotionally wrung out from the past few days that as you laid down you knew you’d fall asleep, and you were so ready for it. And you did.

[dreamlandcreations]

I'm hopeless

Seriously, I can't watch anything! Binging films I never had ideas for is not safe anymore 😭🤧

6 Underground fic with Billy (4) x hacker!Reader (13) who is scared of heights and was "dead" long before 1 found her...

[stray-kaz]

Hold Me Close, Don’t Let Go : a Billy/Four x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Billy has been “Four” for a while now, but you still miss him when he’s gone. This time, it’s too much and you need to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Warning: Adult behaviour. Watch your step.

The rasp of the key in the battered lock pulled you slowly out of an uneasy doze, yellow light reaching down the hall outside of your bedroom. Familiar footsteps made the carpeted floor creak and the heavy sound of a backpack hitting the floor forced your heavy eyes open wider, your heart beginning to drum hard behind your ribs.

By the time the bedroom door opened all the way and the man you couldn’t sleep for worrying about stood framed in the light, you had pushed the covers down and flown to him, knocking into his chest and sending him back a step or two. One arm snagged him round the waist, while the other hand inched down to his left wrist; you sighed in relief as your fingers traced over the familiar worn leather cord, the etched silver coin laced to it as normal.

“Hello” Billy said quietly, having recovered from your greeting. “I missed you, too, baby.”

You felt him under your hands again, for the first time in weeks. He was no dream, he was solid, a little cold from the weather outside but warm underneath it. Leaning into him, your chests pressed firmly together, you felt your heart beating in strange places: at your fingertips, behind your eyes, and most notably, between your legs.

It had been weeks since he had kissed you, held your hand, moved in you through the weeping dark.

You laid siege.

There was no time for softness or tender touches as you kissed him with force, dousing his muffled words of surprise as water douses a candle flame. Desperate hands yanked at the arms of his jacket, the hem of his t-shirt, clawed at his belt buckle. A gasp left your own mouth as your fingers brushed over smooth, hot skin, abdomen twitching under your touch.

Billy tried to calm you, protesting between fierce kisses that all but bruised his mouth.

“Hey...Wait...Babe...I’m covered in blood and I haven’t showered in days...Hold on...Babe...”

He let out a surprised, muffled mmff when you kissed him almost hard enough to draw blood and finally got his arms out of his jacket. Billy was wordless as you tugged his torn and blood streaked t-shirt off over his head, leaving his blond hair tousled and his light eyes wide. You tossed it into the corner of the room before kissing a burning path down his chest and stomach; he stared as you unlaced his boots and heaved them over your shoulder, one after the other.

“Baby, seriously, what is going on?” he asked you, baffled by your onslaught even as he accepted whatever was happening was going to happen. “You’re in pajamas, darlin’, and I’m filthy. I had to - I had to shoot someone yesterday... What are you doin’?”

You still said nothing as you fought with his belt buckle until it hung open and you could drag down his zip, before taking a step back and stripping right in front of him, shimmying out of your plaid pajama pants and kicking your underwear away. Billy’s gaze dragged up from the apex of your thighs to your face just before it disappeared briefly under your pajama top, and then dropped to your newly bared chest.

He softly said your name, but it was as if you were deaf, solely focused on ridding him of his remaining clothes. He stepped out of his cutoffs obediently, still watching your face, concerned by the naked frenzy in your eyes. When you pulled his underwear down his legs, he toed them off, then looked at you again, waiting. In spite of everything, his body had responded to your need and the sight of yours exposed. He would do everything you desired and ask questions later.

He knew you well, loved you well, knew what you liked. But that didn’t in any way prepare him for you shoving him down onto the bed, against the shaky headboard. You were not pushy or dominant in lover situations, but you climbed into his lap, gripped his shoulders with bruising fingers and sank down onto him with no warning.

And then, the moment he could go no further, you slumped against his chest and sobbed, trembling hands rising to tangle in his hair. Billy’s shock subsided as he finally understood, your heat grasping onto him as tightly as your hands had just been. He felt your tears drip onto the skin of his chest and slowly stroked up and down your back, settling his chin on top of your head.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay” he hushed you, fingertips now drawing quivering patterns over your skin. “I’m alive. I came home to you. Shh, babe, everything’s fine. I’m here. I’m right here with you. See?”

Billy leaned back slightly and tilted your chin down so you could glimpse where your body joined with his, your softness lined up perfectly with his hard.

“I’m here, darlin’. Feel this?” he murmured.

He thrust very gently up and was gratified to hear your quiet, shaking moan and feel your breasts against his chest as you collapsed again. You nudged the slope of his neck with your nose as you pushed away to look shyly at Billy, your face filling with heat as the reality of your actions caught up to you. There was a dark bruise spreading under his left eye and a shallow cut across his collarbone, all marks from the last mission. His lower lip was swollen from your teeth.

“I missed you” you told him, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. You weren’t ready for me to jump you like this.”

You tried to get off him, but his fingers pressed into your hips, holding you in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, and brushed a gentle kiss onto your lips. “Now that I’m here, I have no plans to go anywhere else.”

You threaded your fingers more slowly through his hair, palms bumping against the shaved fuzz at the back. Eyelids fluttered closed as Billy kissed you again, slow and careful, as he gently kneaded your hips and moved you over him in tiny circles. He leaned up to graze his lips against your earlobe.

“I’ve never seen you so needy for me before” he murmured, making sure not to overwhelm your already heightened senses. “It’s hot, but are you okay? You had no foreplay, nothing. You’re not in any pain?”

You shifted in his lap, testing your inner muscles for discomfort, and saw his eyes narrow with pleasure.

“No” you mumbled, splaying your hands across the backs of his shoulders. “I just -”

You cut yourself off, biting your lip in silence. Billy raised his eyebrows and lightly danced his fingertips over your inner thighs, tickling you. You squirmed, fighting back a smile.

“You just what?” he demanded, grinning. “Come on, babe, give it up already.”

You sighed.

“Want you” you admitted at last. “I just want you, Billy.”

He leaned in again and buried his face in your neck; you felt his flushed skin against your own as he wrapped his arms around your back, drawing you as close as he could.

“How do you want me, babe?” he muffled in your skin.

You closed your eyes as you felt his teeth drag across the top of your shoulder.

“Everywhere” you admitted.

Billy huffed out a laugh and bit down, eliciting a low moan and a tight twitch of your hips.

“Hold on” he warned, and you gripped him tightly, letting out a slight shriek as he raised you up a little and tipped you onto your back, your legs falling open.

In spite of how hard your muscles were grasping him, the movement had shaken him loose, and when Billy pushed back into you, your eyes rolled and he watched proudly as your jaw went slack, all heat and melting limbs.

“Missed me that bad, huh?” he panted, nosing along your jaw to your ear. “Or did you just miss this?”

He punctuated his last word by throwing his weight behind his hips, slamming so hard and deep your vision swirled black for a split second. He grinned as your breath hitched and you stammered, struggling to speak through the pleasure.

“Billy” you whined, anxious, your hands scrabbling across his back, his shoulders, desperate to gain purchase.

You finally grabbed onto his blond hair again, as he raised his head and met your gaze.

“Yeah?” he groaned. “What is it, babe? Tell me what you want.”

He watched your eyes flare and knew he was gonna be done, knew you were ruining him just as much as he was ruining you. He sat up a bit and glanced to each of his shoulders as your legs hooked over them, sinking him even deeper into you. He set his jaw tight, the blue of his eyes almost all gone.

“Harder, please” you gritted out. “All you’ve got.”

Billy couldn’t suppress the moan that tore out from deep in his chest as he did as he was bidden, each thrust sending you both nearer to oblivion. He wrapped his arms around your legs, moving harder and faster, how he knew you liked it. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t take them off you as you shook  and bowed underneath him.

“Good girl” he groaned, watching your eyelids flicker and cheeks flush at his praise. “You can take it.”

Without warning, you brought your legs down and wrapped them around his waist, changing the angle again. Billy bit his bottom lip hard as he fell against you, dragging in and out of you with slow precision.

You pulled on his hair, scraping your fingernails over his scalp as you frantically arched your hips to meet his, a fraught desire to be one with him spilling hot tears over your lashes and vining around him as tightly as you could, thighs aching as they snared his hips and battled his movements.

Then, at long last, Billy’s blunt hips slammed home and he slumped, his chest sticking to yours as you traced your fingertips down and up his spine, finally feeling full and close enough, even as his warm weight smothered you down into the mattress. 

Billy breathed shakily as he eventually lifted his head to look you in the eye, his own still blown wide. He kissed you unsteadily.

“You tryin’ to kill me, woman?” he asked, smiling as you blushed.

“Sorry” you mumbled, turning your head away.

“Don’t you apologise” he chastised, kissing your cheek to tilt your head back to him.

He slowly eased out from between your thighs and sat back, his gaze straying all over you. He reached out a hand to push your damp hair back from your face.

“But I do need a shower” he remarked. “And so do you. Come on.”

Billy helped you off the bed, hiding a faint grin when you stumbled a little on quivering legs and had to lean on him.

He turned on the shower water and eased you under the hot spray, wrapping his arms around you from behind as he stepped in after. After a while, you turned in his hold to look up at him, noticed the faint pink streaks of old blood washing off his skin. There were fresh cuts on his chest and upper arms, fresh and deep enough to eventually become new scars.

He watched you examining him, could almost see your heart become heavy. He pressed a finger beneath your chin to tilt it up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Oi” he said firmly. “I’m fine. There’s nothing that won’t heal soon, I promise you. I’m okay, baby.”

You sighed and nestled into him, your cheek pressed to his chest, his chin on your head, shower water streaming down on both of you.

“Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“Have I told you lately that I love you a lot?”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, you have, babe. But I’m always happy to hear it again.”

[paperrretro]

retro.

Pairing: Billy | Four x Reader

Word Count: 1,068 words

Warnings: Swearing

“Got something for you, Eight.”

Four’s eyes are blue and twinkling when they meet yours in the mirror, and you quickly move your gaze back to your monitor before it starts to burn, fingers flying over the keyboard as he stretches an arm around you to drop something onto the desk.

“What is it?” you ask as he makes himself at home in one of the spare chairs, collapsing into it with a sigh.

Four gestures at the paper bag. “Take a guess.”

You inhale, faltering just the slightest when you catch a whiff of something greasy and warm and very, very good.

“French fries,” you say.

“Yep –”

“Arby’s. The curly ones.”

“What the fuck.” Four leans back in his chair, and you cannot stop the warmth that trickles to your cheeks at the awe in his tone. “How’d you know?”

“I can tell by the smell.”

“Holy shit, really?”

“No.” You finally detach your hands from the keyboard and grab the paper bag. “Wild guess.”

“Oh.”

Pulling the fries out, you stuff some into your mouth and hold the carton out towards Four. He takes two and puts them on a napkin, emptying a ketchup packet on the other half for dipping. “How come you sound disappointed?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Thought you had some, like, superhuman ability. With the shit we’ve done, I would totally believe it.”

“If anyone has a superpower, it’s you, Skywalker. Jumping across buildings and over roofs and shit without smashing onto the ground.”

Four grins. “S’pose so, yeah.”

“So humble.”

“I’m good at what I do!” he exclaims. “I can compliment you too. You’re literally the smartest person I know.”

“Smarter than Five?”

“… You’re the second smartest person I know. But you’re definitely the nicest.”

“The nicest?” you repeat, incredulous. That was not something you ever heard in your past life.

“Well,” to your surprise, a flush crawls across his face, “granted, the bar isn’t very high, but it’s there. Besides Six, you’re the only one out of this lot who’s gone skating with me, and believe me, I’ve asked everyone.”

The thought of saying that you had nothing better to do crosses your mind, but then you remember that he thinks you’re nice, so you don’t. It wouldn’t have been true, anyway, and you are a horrible liar.

“You’re fun to hang out with,” you tell him.

That admission is true. Four is brash, a little nuts, sometimes too mouthy for his own good – and you like that he is. You remember when he had first convinced you to crawl out of your hole and go outside with him, when he’d wheedled you onto his skateboard, hands on your waist and shrieks of laughter in his throat as you wobbled around like an idiot.

You thought being dead meant being detached. Four seems determined to prove otherwise.

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and he scoots closer to your chair.

“What’re you working on?” he queries, elbows on his knees as he squints at the lines of code in front of you.

Tucking another curly fry into your cheek, you shrug. “Making a game.”

“Like Call of Duty? Would stay up all night with my mates playing that as a kid.”

“No, just a simple two-player one. 8-bit-ish.”

“What’s it about?”

You shift uncomfortably.

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just asking. Why, is it something pervy? I’d still be down to play.” Four throws a crooked smirk your way, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

A snort escapes you despite yourself. “What? No. It’s, um … a platform-type game. Like Mario.”

“Okay. Very specific.”

Clearing your throat, you mumble an elaboration. But that is almost worse, because then Four leans in close to hear what you’re saying, and he smells like the outdoors and his face is close and you’re worried, no, you’re terrified that you’ll glance down at his lips and say something about them that you’ll one hundred percent regret.

So you lean back slightly. Something flickers in his eyes when you do so, but he does not follow.

“Didn’t get that, Eights.”

“Parkour,” you mutter, the word fluttering out like a little drunk moth. “It’s a parkour game.”

Four blinks. Then, a broad, delighted smile spreads across his face.

“No shit?”

“I haven’t figured everything out yet,” you say almost defensively, though you don’t know what you’re defending against. “It’s nothing like the real thing, so don’t get your hopes up. It’s just a dumb project.”

“It’s wicked,” he says. “Can you make a character that looks like me?”

“Sure.”

(You do not tell him that you’ve already planned to.)

“And make a character that looks like you,” Four continues seriously, tapping the desk. “So I can kick your ass at parkour in a videogame, too. Oh, and everyone else, so I can also kick their asses.”

“You’ll be in my domain, Four. I’ll be finished before you even make the first jump.”

He chuckles, disbelieving, and bumps the side of your foot with his shoe. “Your domain, eh? I think you’ll find I’m very adaptable.”

“I know.” The words come out quieter than you intend. Adoring. Shit.

While you resist the urge to fidget and scuff a hole into the floor of your trailer, Four’s smile softens, eyes flicking back to the screen. He reaches for another couple of fries.

“Wanna go out tomorrow morning?”

“Huh?”

“Outside, I mean. I’m gonna find someplace to practice. You can come and watch and take notes for your game,” he says casually while he chews, licking the salt off his thumb once he’s done.

“Oh.” You try not to stare. “Yeah, I can go with you.”

“You could give it another go too, if you’d like.”

“Why, so you can kick my ass at parkour in real life again? I’ll just watch.”

“Suit yourself.” With that, Four stands up from his chair and looks down at you for a few seconds, then gestures with his chin at the fries. “Remember to finish those.”

“Okay, Mom.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and leaves without a goodbye. (There’s no need for it, not around here, because goodbyes are for the living, aren’t they?)

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath and slap your cheeks several times, glancing at the carton next to your mouse. There are four left.

You laugh underneath your breath and reach for one.

[pinksturniolo]

Switch - Chris and Matt Sturniolo (Part One)

Chris x Matt and Fem Reader

Summary: Cherry Bomb - The largest underground BDSM club in Los Angeles, California. Its member list is extremely exclusive, only granting access to celebrities, influencers and the filthy rich. No one really cares who you are or what you do, they come for one thing and one thing only. Whatever happens at the Cherry stays at the Cherry….

Content warnings: smut, oral, fingering, protected sex, bondage, spanking, teasing, threesome

this story has heavy themes and descriptions of bdsm, so if you’re not comfortable with that pls don’t read <3

word count: 3,879

Neon lights bounce off the shiny black walls, loud music playing but not too loud that you can’t hear what the blonde guy next to you is saying. He’s been talking your ear off for the last 20 minutes, while you zone out, sipping on your lemon club soda. This was the only time you wished they served alcohol here so you could at least be tipsy enough to endure the men that have been approaching you tonight.

Your usual partner hasn’t shown up yet and you have already been here for almost an hour. You try to ignore the slight ache in your chest though, focusing your attention back to the man next to you.

“So, how long you been coming here?” He asks.

“About 6 months now.” You reply.

“Damn, I feel like an amateur." He laughs, “This is only my second time.”

Obviously.

You hated to think so rudely but every person you’ve talked to tonight just wasn’t the one you preferred. You were starting to get extremely impatient, wondering where he was. He was never late.

As if your internal monologue has been heard by a higher power, you feel a hand on the back of your neck and turn in your seat to see the same man you were just thinking of. He has a dark look on his face as he eyes the person next to you.

“I don’t think she’s very interested buddy, why don’t you go bother some other poor girl.” He says to him, his hand now curling around your shoulder possessively.

The blonde guy’s face reddens with embarrassment as he quickly scrambles up from his chair. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was yours.” he says and quickly walks off.

You scoff as your partner sits next to you, ordering a water from the waitress.

“That was unnecessary.” You say, his face still annoyed as he relaxes into the chair, his arm still slung around the back of you. He takes a long sip of his water, avoiding looking at you. You see his jaw clench and he runs a hand through his hair before speaking.

“What were you doing talking to that loser anyways?” He finally asks, making eye contact with you and he looks pissed.

“Oh my god, are you jealous Matt? Maybe you should’ve been here on time before other guys had the chance to talk to me.” you reply, a teasing smile appearing on your face.

He then grabs the side of your chair, pulling it forcefully towards him, causing you to gasp out. Your thighs are touching, and his hand moves from the back of your chair to the nape of your neck, sliding up to knot his fingers in your hair and pull slightly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t entertain other men when I’m not around and wait patiently for me like a good girl. Or do you need me to remind you who you belong to? Hm?” He whispers in your ear threateningly. Your core pulses with arousal at his words, his warm breath on your neck causing tingles to shoot down your spine.

So of course, this leads to you replying with a smart remark, which makes him take you to the candy room and punish you until you beg for forgiveness.

There were numerous rooms in the club that members could use, their time limit being an hour. But the main rooms that were larger and you could reserve for however long you wanted (at a high price) were only four. The star room, the red room, the flower room and the candy room.

The candy room is where you and Matt spend most of your encounters together at the Cherry Bomb. However, there’s nothing sweet about it besides the name. Its walls are painted red, a black bed with silk sheets in the middle and glossy black floors. There’s a cabinet of floggers, ropes, leather and fuzzy cuffs, vibrators and anything else you can imagine.

There’s no particular reason why it’s your favorite but Matt has been reserving it for you since you met him here and it’s become a routine on a Saturday night, twice a month.

Cherry Bomb has been around since the late 80s and has done a particularly good job at keeping its participants a secret, mainly due to the NDA you have to sign upon your first entry, along with a recent STD panel and heavy entrance fee. They also prohibited alcohol and drug use.

You were referred by one of your friends, which made it easier for you to get in. The money was no issue for you, but the wait list was long and having a friend on the inside had its benefits.

You instantly loved it from the first time you came. The atmosphere wasn’t grungy or too dark like you would expect a typical sex club to be. No one seemed to care who you were here, there was no judgement, and it was a safe place to act out your wildest fantasies, with whoever you choose.

You had had experiences with a couple different men and women, all which were satisfying for the most part. Most people had a habit of choosing a particular partner and being loyal to them, while others constantly swapped, not staying with one person too long.

When you met Matt, you instantly clicked, and found something in him that you hadn’t felt with any other member. He approached you one night, his demeanor confident but also calm. The energy flowed between you two, and once he got you to the room alone, it was fireworks. He was very clear on consent being an important aspect and boundaries were established before anything else.

Matt was a switch, like you. While most of the time he preferred to be dominate, he could also be submissive which was heaven to you. You loved it when he took control, using your body however he pleased, and he knew the best way to handle your brattiness. Because as much as it felt good to submit to him, you also had a fiery attitude which only made the pleasure of his punishment better.

He made you beg till you cried, spanked you so hard you had marks for weeks, and would tie you to the bed and fuck you until your brain was fuzzy, and your throat was raw from screaming his name. Making you cum over and over again until you were numb.

But when he was the submissive for the night… it was a whole different experience. There was nothing better than the feeling of him begging you to please him, demanding him to do whatever you wanted. Edging him until he was whimpering for you, teasing him and seeing how much he enjoyed it. Nothing compared.

And the best part about Matt that you liked, was that he always took the time to make sure you had the proper after care after each session. Cleaning you up, getting you water if you needed it, and even massaging your body if he went particularly hard on you that night.

He was currently holding you after tonight's session was done, rubbing small soothing circles on your back, your head cradled against his chest. You can hear his heart beating at a relaxed pace, calming you as your own heart slows down to match his tempo.

He breaks the sweet silence, his velvety voice pulling you out of your trance. “Y/N… I have a question for you.”

“Mhm?” You mumble, your fatigue settling in.

“How do you feel about a threesome?” He says, his hand stroking over the top of your head.

You’re alert now, lifting your head to turn and look at him. His eyes are half closed, a lazy smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

“I think it’s pretty hot. Is that something you want to do?” You reply.

“Are you comfortable with that?” He asks.

“I’ve experienced them before, yes. Depends… who would it be with?”

His bottom lip is pulled in between his teeth, a contemplative look on his face.

“I know someone that’s interested. In you. He’s always wanted to come to Cherry but he’s hesitant.” Matt says and your heart rate picks up a little at his words.

“He’s interested in me?” You ask, surprised at the fact that Matt talks about you outside of the club. That would be breaking the NDA.

He strokes his hand over the side of your face, caressing your jaw with his fingers. His eyes are soft, like they always are at the end of the night, adoring you with affection.

“Sorry, princess. I know I’m technically not supposed to talk to anyone about this. But I trust him… and I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew you would be upset.” He says.

You sit up now, fully facing him, and place your arms on either side of him, one hand resting on his chest and the other on his bicep.

“I know, I’m not upset. I’m flattered actually.” You say, smirking, the idea of what he’s proposing piquing your curiosity.

“Mm. Don’t get too cocky. But if you would like to try it out, I’ll tell him to come with me next time.” He tells you.

Your mind races at the thought of a threesome with him and another man, wondering how exactly that would change the dynamic between you two. Matt could be a little possessive and you were more than satisfied with just him as your partner but it made you think of how he would be able to share you. It excites you. He must trust this other person a lot.

“Who is it?” You ask him and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you with an amused look.

“It’s a surprise.”

✰✿

You return to Cherry Bomb two weeks later, more nervous than you had been any other time you’ve come. But your anticipation outweighs your nerves as you sit at the bar, patiently waiting for Matt. You’re wearing a skin tight black lace dress that’s basically see through, showing your matching black lingerie set underneath. Sleek red heels are on your feet, your hair falling in soft loose waves that frame your face and a light coat of mascara through your eyelashes.

You took the time to put extra effort into your appearance tonight, and practically everyone in the club notices, staring at you as they wander around. But you pay no mind, your focus on the soda in front of you. Matt would be fuming with rage if he knew you were entertaining anyone else tonight and usually you would play with fire but given the special circumstances, you decided not to mess with him tonight.

The waitress hands you a note, pulling you out of your thoughts. She smiles at you politely before walking off, attending to another customer.

Meet me in the red room.

It’s Matt’s handwriting. He’s never done this before, always meeting you at the bar and then escorting you to your usual room. Your palms sweat as you stand from your chair and make your way to the large room at the end of the hall with the red door.

The red room. It was the largest room in the club, and the only one you hadn’t been in before. You’ve heard rumors of how luxurious it was which is why it was so hard to book. How Matt was able to get it tonight, you’re not sure.

You take a deep breath and adjust your dress, pushing the door open. The cool air of the room hits you, tiny goosebumps erupting on your skin. Your heart picks up speed at the sight of Matt centered directly at the center edge of the bed. He’s also dressed in all black, his eyes roaming up and down your body in hunger as you saunter over to him.

Wait. Is that Matt? You pause in front of him, a few feet away. His hair is longer, and his face is extremely similar but with a slight difference. And his aura is arrogant. But when you make eye contact with him, you feel butterflies gather in your stomach, his blue eyes making you drown with attraction. It’s the same feeling Matt gives you but there’s something different about him.

You now realize it’s not Matt at all.

The smug smile on his lips that’s been growing since he noticed the confusion on your face only widens, his hands gripping the sides of the bed, making the muscles in his arm flex. He looks incredibly strong.

“Looking for someone?” He asks teasingly and you can already feel the pool of wetness growing by the second in your underwear.

“Where’s Matt?” You ask sweetly, tilting your head. Your arms are crossed and your eyes narrow, fighting the smile that threatens to break through.

Let the games begin.

The stranger in front of you chuckles, leaning back on his arms now, his legs spreading slightly in jeans. He licks his lips, looking you up and down again. You can’t help but do the same.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Don’t like what you see?” He says, his bottom lip stuck out in a fake pout.

You smile at him, mocking the tone in his voice. “I prefer princess.”

He laughs lowly, biting his lip and looks behind you. “You weren’t lying when you said she was a brat.” He says and you whip your head around, shocked to see Matt sitting in the love seat at the corner of the room.

You hadn’t noticed him at all when you walked in, given the darkness of the room and the fact he was so quiet during your exchange.

Matt has a blank expression, not looking at you. “Call her whatever you want, Chris.”

You can see that he’s dressed in a plain white shirt and black jeans. It’s simple, like the clothes he usually wears but he still looks incredible.

You’re still turned towards him, giving Chris a full view of your ass now, which you’re sure he’s appreciating.

“I didn’t know you had a twin.” You tell him, your eyebrows raised in amusement.

The corners of his lips twitch as he fights a smile, exchanging a look with Chris that you can’t decipher. “There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.”

He gets up from his seat now and crosses the room to where you are. You’re about to respond with a witty remark but he’s suddenly gripping your arms, turning you around forcefully to face Chris again.

Your ass is pressed into his crotch, and you feel him harden against you. You gasp lightly as he places his mouth next to your ear, whispering lowly.

“That’s enough from you, Princess. I suggest you keep your mouth shut unless it’s a yes or no. Understand?”

You nod slowly, and Chris watches with fascination at the way Matt handles you. You can see how visibly turned on he is, his boner straining through his jeans.

You’re more aroused than you’ve ever been, the feeling of Matt’s strong grip on your arms, as he places soft wet kisses on the curve of your neck and the look in Chris’ eyes as they burn into yours, his pupils blown out.

“Are you comfortable? You know your safe word, right?” He asks you, his tone a little lighter. He wraps one hand around your throat, the other on your left hip and squeezes.

“Yes.” You breathe. “Good.” He replies, releasing you completely and you feel him back up from behind you. “Now get on your knees.”

Your heart races as you sink down, Chris’ eyes following your every moment. He hasn’t taken them off you since you entered the room and something in his eyes made you very nervous but incredibly excited at the same time.

Matt is now seated on the opposite side of the room, in a large leather chair. He’s directly in front of you now, to the side of Chris. You sit obediently on your knees, your eyes still focused on him as he speaks his next set of instructions.

“Why don’t you show Chris how you put that mouth to good use.” he says, nodding his head for you to continue.

You swallow and look away from Matt now, to see an enticing smirk on his brother’s face. He spreads his legs farther open as he adjusts himself on the bed, unbuckling his belt from his jeans. He places it on the mattress next to him and pulls his jeans down and off his legs.

You scoot closer to him, positioning yourself between his legs, your hands resting on top of his thighs. The look in your eyes is enough to get his heart racing like yours, and he curls a finger under your chin, tugging your face closer to him as he leans down.

“Let me taste your lips, sweetheart.” He says softly and connects his mouth to yours.

Now you can tell the real difference between them. Matt is harsh, yet caring. His energy penetrates you with a feeling of deep connection, a tie that binds you to him in one more ways then one. The trust you two have built over the past few months comes through when your bodies mesh with one another. He knows just what to say to please you and you in return, love to obey his every wish and command.

But Chris… he kisses you like he’s starving. He’s sweet, yet strong. It’s all new territory to explore, and you can almost taste the desperation on his tongue. His hands are soft against your face, warmth flooding your body at the feeling of his touch. You wonder just how much Matt has expressed to him, what secrets he’s revealed about all the sinful, delicious acts you’ve conceived with him in the candy room.

Chris is magnetic, his wet, hot kisses making you ache in your core. He finally pulls away from you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed in a dark look. “Take your dress off.” He speaks.

You pull it off with no hesitation, up and over your head, now in your lingerie beneath him.

He drinks in the sight of your half naked body, your tits pushing against your bra, the hem of your black thong high on your hips and you slip your heels off.

He pulls his dick out, red tip leaking with precum already. He’s practically the same length as Matt, with a little more girth. It’s a little intimidating but your needs overpower, your mouth watering as you look at him.

You open your mouth, puckering your lips to let a pool of saliva drip down onto his length and you make eye contact with Matt, the look he gives you making a spark run through you.

Chris groans as you look back at him, spreading your spit down him with your hand before you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue. “Shit… feels so fucking good.” He rasps.

His chest is moving up and down as he breathes deeply, exhaling from his nose as he grits his teeth, and you take him further into your mouth. It’s a little hard to adjust to his size but you do, bobbing your head as he brushes the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

He moans loudly, bucking his hips up slightly. He pulls your hair back from your face, holding it into a ponytail, tightly, pulling at your hair a little. This makes you moan in return around him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the pleasure. The air in the room is thick now, the sounds of Chris fucking your mouth and his groaning filling the space. You can feel Matt’s stare on you, and your knees dig into the softness of the shaggy black carpet, your grip on Chris’s thighs tightening.

“Fuck.” He pants, and moves his hands down your back, your body bending slightly so your ass poked out, allowing him access to feel you up. He caresses the flesh of your cheeks, massaging them before he brings one hand down to smack you.

You jolt slightly, not expecting him to do that, and hum around him, your thighs clenching.

“Yeah? You like that?” he says, smacking you once more, making it sting a little. You make another noise of approval, his cock still stuffed down your throat but then pull out, with a response you’re later bound to regret. “Not hard enough.”

You look up through your lashes at him and your heart races from how mad he looks. When Matt gets that mad, his eyes glaze over, and his face is cold. But Chris smiles. Even though his eyes are hard, there’s a grin on his face that says, ‘You have no idea what you just started.’  It’s insanely attractive.

He then reaches next to him, the metal of his belt clanking. He folds it, and you see the genuine leather thick in his hand.

He grabs the back of your head, knotting his fingers in your hair. “Did I tell you to stop?”

You glance at Matt and his hand palms over the hardness in his jeans, his other hand gripping on the arm of the chair.

Fuck.

You take Chris into your mouth again, your ass in the air for him. He sighs as he slips back down your throat, dragging the belt across you. He does this agonizingly slow, your head working on him. Finally, he slaps your it on your ass, hard. You moan loudly, your nails digging into his thighs. “How’s that, princess?”

You breathe out hard from your nose, the harsh sting of the belt lingering. Chris rubs his hand over your cheek, soothing the skin there, allowing you a few seconds of relief before he brings it down against you again, a loud smack ringing in the air.

You cry out, tears forming in your eyes and bring your head up slightly, gasping for air.

See, the pain… the pain sucked. You saw red each time you were punished like this but after the few seconds of hurt passes, you feel a rush of euphoria, and tingles of pleasure you just can’t get enough of.

“Hm? Don’t got anything to say now? Is this what you wanted?” Chris says, his large hands squeezing and rubbing you, before bringing his belt down once more against you. All you can do now is whimper, your actions on Chris at a complete stop, while you grip his thighs, tears now streaming down your face, mascara running.

You look up at him through your pitiful tears, his teeth sunken into his bottom lip so hard it almost draws blood. Your face is flushed, lips red and swollen. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He whispers and your heart flutters at his compliment.

You wonder if Matt heard and flick your gaze to him again. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his black boxers showing, his hand still on himself but not moving. He smirks, enjoying the fucked out look on your face.

Chris then grips your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look back at him.

“What do you think Matt? Think she deserves to cum?”

“Give her what she wants.” He replies.

a/n: soooo this one was supposed to be a full one shot but i had to split it into two parts or else it was gonna be too long lol i had this idea in my head i just had to write it out, so i promise i'll work on the final part of my matt series soon!!

taglist <3 :

@christhopersturniolo @sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @junnniiieee07 @junovrsmp4 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @stingerayyy2 @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @muwapsturniolo

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │06

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➪ WC; 13.2k

✎ series masterlist

6. MOVING FORWARD

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

▍3 JANUARY 2022 — [four months before break-up]

It was 8 p.m., and the office was finally quiet. Jungkook sat back in his leather chair, rubbing his temples in an effort to ease the pounding headache that had been creeping in since noon. His eyes, bloodshot from staring at spreadsheets and contracts, drifted to the clock on the wall. He exhaled a heavy sigh — it had been another grueling day.

It had only been a little over a month since he’d taken over his father’s company, and yet every day felt like a battle.

His father had built the business from the ground up, pouring decades of his life into it, but age was catching up. The old man had wanted to rest, to finally enjoy the fruits of his labor, but Jungkook wasn’t ready just yet. He had always known the day would come, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer magnitude of the role.

He anticipated the moment but it was all too sudden. He even expressed it to his father, that he needed more time to prepare for the future responsibilities, but his father said he was more than ready and that he trusted him.

Although his father now rested, free from the burdens of leadership, Jungkook felt anything but relaxed. The employees, the shareholders, his family — they all looked to him for leadership, for vision. And while he knew he must rise to the challenge, the exhaustion from weeks of non-stop work was starting to take its toll.

Jungkook’s stomach growled softly, reminding him of his hunger. He hadn’t eaten since a hasty breakfast that morning, too consumed by meetings, calls, and the endless sea of decisions he had to make. He ran a hand through his tousled hair as he sighed deeply, his body and mind exhausted.

Gathering the scattered papers into a semblance of order, he stood up and stretched his stiff body. He then shrugged into his tailored suit jacket that hung behind his chair and grabbed his briefcase. The once-pristine office, which now felt like a second home, was darkened except for the soft glow of his desk lamp. He lazily flipped it off and plunged the room into darkness.

Walking through the empty corridors, he passed the row of cubicles that would be full the next morning. But for now, the place felt like a ghost town, echoing only the sound of his footsteps on the polished floor. He moved quickly, eager to go home and bury himself in your embrace.

The underground parking lot greeted him with its cool, dim air. There, in his reserved spot, sat the gleaming Hyundai car — the latest model, fresh off the production line one. It was a gift from his father, presented on the day he’d officially handed over the reins of the company. A subtle reminder of the legacy he was expected to uphold.

He unlocked the car with a touch, and the sleek doors opened silently. With a tired grunt, he tossed his briefcase into the empty passenger seat.

He was about to circle around to the driver’s side when his phone began to ring, its insistent vibration coming from his pocket. Pausing, he fished for it, fingers fumbling for a moment before pulling it free.

The screen glowed with a picture of him as a child, smiling widely, while his father held him upside down. Jungkook groaned inwardly, contemplating ignoring the call. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, and he knew what his father wanted would likely add to his already full plate. But he couldn’t ignore it.

Sliding his thumb across the screen, he answered, pressing the phone to his ear as he walked toward the driver’s side door.

“Hey dad,” he said, trying to sound more energetic than he felt.

“Jungkook, son, did you just finish work?” he asked, his voice booming through the phone.

“Yeah, I have, why?” he asked back, pulling the door open and slipping into the driver's seat.

“I want you to come over for dinner tonight. There’s someone me and your mother want you to meet” he said, more like a command.

Jungkook grimaced, leaning his head back against the leather seat. His body ached for rest, and his thoughts immediately jumped to you, who was probably at home waiting for him. You both planned to spend the evening together, something he rarely got to do with you with his hectic schedule.

“Dad,” Jungkook started, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted, and Y/n is waiting for me at home. Can we please do this another night?” he requested.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, a pause that Jungkook recognised all too well. It was the silence before the storm, the moment his father weighed the pros and cons before insisting on getting his way.

“Jungkook,” his father said, his voice firm but not unkind.

“This is important, and your mother and I need you to be here” he told him. Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned his body forward, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment.

He loved his father, respected him more than anyone, but the man had a way of disregarding boundaries, especially when it came to family matters. There was no room for negotiation when his father had his mind set on something. And if it was a family dinner, Jungkook knew there was no escaping it.

“I just…” Jungkook began, but he knew it was futile. His father wasn’t asking; he was telling him.

“Who is it that I’m supposed to meet?” he asked, his tone resigned.

“You’ll see when you get here. Now, don’t keep us waiting, we’re all here” his father replied cryptically.

Jungkook groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t have the energy for this tonight, not after the day he’d had, but refusing his father was never really an option. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he thought about how to tell you about all this. You had been looking forward to a quiet night, just the two of you.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” Jungkook said, his voice heavy with reluctance.

“Good man. See you soon” his father said with a satisfied tone.

When the line went dead, Jungkook growled in frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair. Instead of starting the car, he dialed your number, and it rang twice before you picked up.

“Hey, babe,” your soft voice came through the line, a contrast to the blunt conversation he just had with his father. Your voice was the sound he’d been looking forward to hearing all day.

“Hi baby” he greeted, trying to match your tone.

“Listen,” he sighed.

“Dad just called, and he wants me to come over for dinner. There’s someone who he wants me to meet apparently” he said guiltily.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. He knew you were processing the disappointment. You had been looking forward to having him home, just as much as he had.

“Jungkook, you’ve been at the office all day. Can’t you just tell him no, just this once?” your voice was a little firmer now.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I tried. You know how he is. He insisted” he said.

You exhaled sharply, and Jungkook could picture you standing in the kitchen, staring out the window with that look of quiet frustration you often got when it came to his family.

“I’m sorry babe. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll try not to be long” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

You were silent for a moment before responding, your tone softer now.

“I get it Kook. I just miss you, that’s all. But go. Do what you need to do. I’ll see you when you get home” you said.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved but still feeling the weight of your disappointment.

“I love you, okay?” he then told you.

“I love you too,” you replied before the line went dead.

Jungkook sat in the empty car park for a long minute, staring at his phone. Then, he simply sighed and tossed his phone on the side of the empty passenger seat.

Soon he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. His father’s house wasn’t far, but each passing mile felt like a weight pressing down on him, pulling him further from the rest and peace he craved.

Who would’ve known the night was the starting point of the change in the trajectory of his life?

┄┄┄┄┄

When Jungkook finally pulled up to the large, stately house he grew up in, he hesitated for a moment. He had a spare key, one his parents insisted he keep even after moving out years ago, but the idea of using it felt strange tonight. He was too tired for surprises. Still, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.

The house was warm and inviting, just as it always had been. Without knocking, he slipped the key into the lock and let himself in, immediately hearing the sound of laughter coming from the dining room.

Jungkook frowned. It wasn’t just his parents — there were others there too. He could hear multiple voices, the clinking of plates and glasses, the unmistakable murmuring of conversation. His exhaustion deepened. All he wanted was to grab a quick bite and head home, not engage in pleasantries with strangers.

As he entered the dining room, he froze in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. His father sat at the head of the table, his mother next to him, both looking at ease and cheerful. But it was the three other figures at the table that made him pause. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation.

The three guests turned their heads toward him, and in that instant, recognition flooded through him like a shockwave. The woman sitting closest to his father — her long dark hair, the familiar way she smiled — was Aera, with her parents.

His childhood friend. Aera, who he hadn’t seen in over a decade, since she had moved to London to study when they were just teenagers. And somehow she happened to settle there instead of coming back to Korea.

For a moment, Jungkook was silently frozen. The last time he had seen Aera was at a hurried farewell party. Though they were that close, only knowing each other through their fathers’ close friendship, the two of them promised to stay in touch. But deep down they know that their lives were headed in different directions.

Now, here she was, sitting at his parents’ dinner table, looking not much different from the girl he remembered, yet somehow more grown, more composed.

“Aera?” he finally managed to say as he walked further into the room.

Aera smiled warmly, standing up from her seat. “Jungkook!” she said, her voice cheerful and familiar, as if no time had passed at all.

“It’s been a long time, oh my god” she jumped up from her seat and pulled him into a crushing hug.

Jungkook blinked, his mind racing to catch up with the moment. But he hugged her back. The exhaustion that had weighed him down just minutes ago seemed to vanish, replaced by a strange mix of surprise and curiosity.

Why was Aera here, of all places? Why now, after all these years?

His father cleared his throat, standing up as well. “I thought it was time for a reunion” he said, a sly smile on his face.

Everything then onwards seemed to be a blur.

Jungkook knew the dinner wasn’t just a simple get-together. It was something more deliberate, something he could feel from the way his father’s comments circled subtly around the idea of him and Aera.

The conversation kept drifting back to Aera, as if the evening was meant to highlight her every accomplishment. His father spoke of her warmth, her intelligence, her success — traits Jungkook was all too aware his father admired.

And more than once, there was the faintest suggestion, not quite spoken aloud, but there nonetheless, that Jungkook and Aera were somehow meant to be. Completely disregarding you.

Jungkook would shoot his father a sidelong glance, but said nothing, biting back the urge to call out the subtle manipulation. He had always been close with his father, but this was crossing a line. The idea that his father might be trying to steer him towards Aera, despite knowing about his relationship with you, made him uneasy.

Jungkook’s father had always shown respect towards you even though it was clear that he would have preferred someone with more connections or influence.

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel irritated by it. His father knew how serious you both were, and he had always stayed out of his romantic life. That was one area Jungkook had always controlled, and his father had respected that boundary.

Until now, apparently.

━━━━━━━━━━

▌5 MARCH 2022 — [two months before break-up]

Jungkook stood frozen in front of his parents, his chest heaving as he tried to process the words that had just been spoken. His father's voice echoed in his head, replaying over and over again like a cruel joke he couldn't escape. Disbelief mingled with anger, knotting his stomach into tight coils.

His father sat across from him, arms crossed with a hardened expression, his jaw set in determination. There was no softness in his father's eyes, no understanding of the emotional storm he had just unleashed. It was as if his father had made up his mind, convinced that what he was asking — no, demanding — was the right course for his son.

“You’ll marry Aera and it’s final. It’s what’s best for the family, and our company” he declared, his voice firm, unwavering, as if it were the most reasonable decision in the world.

“Best for the family? The company?” Jungkook was seething with rage, “what about what’s best for me?” he raised his voice as he jabbed his index finger to his chest.

The years of respect he had for his son’s boundaries when it came to his love life and the respect he had for you went completely down the drain. Discarded and forgotten.

“And what about Y/n, huh?” he spat, his voice trembling with both rage.

“I’ve been with her for ten years, dad! Ten goddamn years! How could you and Mr Kim even think of something like this? How could you expect me to break my ten years worth of love with her so easily?” he raged.

For the ten years Jungkook’s parents had known you for, you both spent holidays together, shared dinners, and talked about the future like any normal couple.

His father had never been overly affectionate towards you, but he had always treated you with respect ��� like he respected Jungkook’s decision to be with you. Jungkook had always appreciated that, thinking his father might have had his doubts but, at least, he accepted your relationship.

Now, standing in the living room, the place where so many warm memories had been made, Jungkook felt like a stranger. His father had just shattered the illusion of acceptance. He couldn’t understand why now, after a decade of silence, his father was suddenly pushing him toward Aera, of all people.

Jungkook barely remembered beyond the fuzzy memories of childhood birthday parties and awkward adolescent gatherings. She moved out of the country over ten years ago and never remained in contact with him. Until now.

He then turned his gaze to his mother, hoping — praying — that she would say something, that she would step in and stop this madness. But she stood there, silent and passive, her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his gaze. His heart sank as he realized she wouldn’t fight for him, wouldn’t stand up to his father on his behalf.

“Mom,” Jungook’s voice cracked, pleading, as he took a step toward her, his hands shaking with desperation.

“Say something. Please” he begged.

But she didn’t. Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. Her silence felt like a betrayal, a quiet acceptance of his father’s will.

Jungkook was expected to marry Aera, not out of love, but out of duty. Duty to the family. Duty to the company. Duty to some archaic notion of loyalty between two families that meant nothing to Jungkook.

But what about his duty to himself? To you? To the woman he loved more than anything in this world? How could they expect him to throw away a decade of love and commitment, to break your heart just because his father wanted an alliance with an old friend?

“Why now?” he then questioned, frowning. It was a question he couldn’t hold back from asking.

“Why wait all these years?” he asked. His father remained composed, though there was a tension in his shoulders that Jungkook had rarely seen before.

“I know you love Y/n. But Aera…Aera is family. Her father and I have always had a bond, and when she came back to Korea, it felt like an opportunity. She’s a good girl, Jungkook. She’s everything we’ve wanted for you — someone with your values, someone who understands where you come from” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Jungkook’s blood boiled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Someone with your values, dad, not mine!” his voice rose, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you and what you want, not about what I want, or what I’ve already built with Y/n” he said.

His father exhaled sharply, his calm facade cracking slightly.

“Jungkook, listen to me, I’m saying that maybe this is a sign-” he tried to explain but was cut off.

“A sign of what?” Jungkook shot back, incredulous.

“A sign that you can try and control my life after a decade of staying out of it? A sign that you’re willing to throw away everything I’ve worked for because you think Aera is more suitable for me on paper?” he gritted his teeth.

The room felt suffocating. His mother, still silent, shifted slightly in her seat, her hands wringing together as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Jungkook wished she would speak up, say something to stop this madness, but deep down, he knew she wouldn’t.

“No,” Jungkook said, his voice firm, though it trembled with emotion.

“I’m not doing this. I love Y/n, and I’m not going to betray her just because you think it’s ‘what’s best for the family.’ This isn’t the middle ages, dad. I’m not some pawn in your game” he said.

Jungkook’s father’s face darkened, his brows knitting together as his jaw tightened even further. “You don’t understand — this is bigger than you” he told him.

“I don’t care!” Jungkook exploded, his voice rising, filled with a fury that shook the room.

“I’m not going to throw away my life, my happiness, for your old friendships or your ideas of what’s right. Y/n is my future, not Aera” he confirmed.

And having said that, he abruptly stood up and grabbed his car keys from the table before storming out of the house.

┄┄┄┄┄

The next day, Jungkook sat at his desk as he flipped through the pages of the latest quarterly report.

Suddenly, the door creaked open without a knock. Jungkook’s eyes darted up, narrowing when he saw who stood there.

Mr Kim, his father’s best friend, strolled in with a broad smile that barely masked the tension behind it. Walking closely beside him was a woman Jungkook recognised as Mr Kim’s assistant, holding a tablet in her hand, her posture stiff and professional.

“Jungkook, my boy,” Mr Kim greeted, his voice warm, almost too friendly.

Jungkook, still seated, forced his lips into a tight smile. His fingers clenched the report a little too firmly before he set it down on the desk.

“Mr Kim,” he said, his voice composed but cold beneath the surface.

“What a surprise”

Mr Kim took no time in making himself comfortable, lowering himself into one of the plush leather chairs opposite Jungkook’s desk. Jungkook’s fake smile remained frozen, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed him. He didn't want to play host today, not to this man.

Mr Kim leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other casually as though he owned the place. “You know, Jungkook, we haven’t talked properly at dinner at your parents’ house. After everything with your father, I thought I should come by and—”

Jungkook cut him off before he could finish, leaning forward slightly in his chair. “What brings you here, Mr Kim?” he asked, his tone polite but edged with impatience.

He tried to sound as nice as possible, but his attempt at warmth felt hollow even to his own ears. He knew why Mr Kim was here, but he wanted to hear it straight from him.

Mr Kim’s smile faltered for a brief second, the casual pleasantries abandoned. His eyes darkened slightly as he shifted forward, elbows resting on the armrests, fingers tapping together in a steeple.

“I heard,” he began slowly, his voice now lacking the jovial tone from earlier, “that you rejected to marry my daughter”.

The room seemed to grow cold, and his assistant glanced nervously at her tablet, as if searching to occupy herself with. Mr Kim’s smile had disappeared entirely now, replaced by a hard, unreadable expression.

“You know,” his tone now low and almost threatening, “this decision of yours... it’s not something I’m happy about. Not at all” he said.

Jungkook met his gaze, refusing to back down. He knew this wouldn’t go over well, but he had made his choice long ago. He wasn’t about to be bullied into marrying someone he didn’t love, not even for the sake of the company.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Jungkook said, though his tone lacked any real sympathy. “But my answer is final”.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair as his fingers instinctively tapped the armrest, carefully choosing his next words. “I didn’t think it was the right decision — for either of us”.

Mr Kim’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes darkened with anger. “Not the right decision?” he repeated, his tone growing harder.

“Your father and I had plans, Jungkook. We always wanted this for our families. You and Aera…it was supposed to be the perfect union. Secure the future of both of our legacies” he tried to explain.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted in irritation. This was exactly why he had never been fond of his father’s friend. Everything with him was business, a transaction. Even marriage.

He could still remember his father’s long talks about alliances and the importance of keeping the company strong, of doing whatever it took to protect their name. But Jungkook had never wanted his life mapped out by others, especially not when it involved marrying someone he didn’t love, just for the sake of a merger.

“I understand that’s what you and my father wanted,” Jungkook said carefully, forcing himself to stay calm, “but I have to make my own choices now. I’m not going to marry your daughter just because it suits the company”.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh before continuing, “and besides, I have a girlfriend of ten years. And I don’t plan to marry anyone else but her. I hope you and my father could at least respect that” he told him.

The corner of Mr Kim’s lips twitched as he tried to contain his fury. “I see,” he muttered as he leaned back against the chair.

“You’re just like your father in some ways, but in others…you’re completely different” he said.

Jungkook said nothing. His face was masked with professionalism, but deep down, a part of him bristled at the comparison. He was not his father, and he never would be.

Mr Kim rose from his seat slowly, his assistant stepping forward to escort him out. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a warning. “This decision…it’s going to have consequences” he voiced out.

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, though his heart picked up its pace as the old man’s words. Was he threatening him?

“I’m prepared for them” he replied with a nod nevertheless. He knew there would be repercussions for defying Mr Kim, but he wasn’t about to back down.

Mr Kim raised his brow and a sly smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, while his eyes glinted with something dangerous.

“Really? Anything” he asked with his mocking tone. He paused for a moment, letting the word linger as if savoring it.

“Because I don’t think you fully understand what ‘anything’ entails” he said. Jungkook’s stomach tightened, but he remained silent, waiting for the inevitable threat.

“You see, Jungkook,” Mr Kim continued, his voice almost a whisper now as he sat back down on the chair.

“I have the power to ruin this company — your father’s legacy — and more than that…” he leaned forward, his eyes locking with Jungkook’s, the malice in his voice unmistakable.

“I can destroy your little girlfriend and her parents, too. They wouldn't survive the fallout if I decided to take action” he threatened.

“It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it? Watching them suffer” he played with his words.

Jungkook’s heart dropped into his stomach, and he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. Mr Kim had gone straight for the jugular. His eyes widened slightly, and despite himself, he felt panic rising in his chest.

His father’s company was one thing, and he could care less about it, but to drag the woman he loved — and your family — into this? That was a new low, even for someone like Mr Kim.

Mr Kim noticed Jungkook’s reaction, his smirk growing wider. “Oh, I see that it struck a nerve,” he said as his voice dripped with satisfaction.

“Yes, Jungkook. I know all about your little girlfriend. And her family. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to them, would you?” he tilted his head slightly.

Jungkook’s chest heaved with fury, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. The thought of him dragging the people he cared about into this made his blood boil. He glared at Mr Kim, and his breathing grew heavier with each passing second.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice low and filled with venom.

Mr Kim’s smirk never wavered. If anything, it deepened as he watched Jungkook struggle to contain his rage. He had gotten under his skin, and he enjoyed every second of it. He leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had already won.

“Think about it, Jungkook,” he said, “you don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be” he suggested mockingly.

Jungkook’s fists slammed down on the desk with a loud thud, and the force of it shook the papers scattered around him. He stood abruptly and leaned over the desk, looming over the old man with fury blazing in his eyes.

“I said,” he growled through gritted teeth, “don’t you dare” he repeated.

Mr Kim leaned in to narrow the distance, his eyes never leaving the younger’s. “Then I suggest you reconsider the marriage if you want to keep them safe. Break up with your girlfriend, marry my daughter, and we can all avoid any...unpleasantness” he said.

Jungkook’s entire body was taut with tension. His chest heaved with the effort to control himself, but it was no use. He slammed his fists down on the desk one again, but there were no words coming out of him.

Mr Kim then stood slowly, brushing off his suit as though the conversation had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

“I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he said with a smug smile. “But don’t take too long. The clock is ticking” he said, mimicking the sound of a clock.

And with that, he turned and strolled out of the office, his assistant following silently behind. When the door clicked shut, Jungkook was left standing there, breathing hard, fists still clenched. His mind raced as he struggled to calm the storm of rage and fear boiling inside him.

For the first time in years, Jungkook felt powerless — and that scared him more than anything. He didn’t want to lose you. But at the same time, he couldn’t let anything happen to you or your family.

━━━━━━━━━━

▌31 MAY 2022 — [day of break-up]

Jungkook sat alone in his office, staring blankly at the paperwork piled on his desk, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound in the room. Over a month had passed since Mr Kim had walked in through that very door and flipped his world upside down.

Jungkook had tried to remain composed, but his mind had raced with questions. What kind of power did Mr Kim have? How could a man like him hold such leverage over people’s lives?

Jungkook hadn’t known, but the look in that old man’s eyes told him that he wasn’t bluffing. There was a malice behind his words, a promise that he could and would follow through on his threats if Jake didn’t comply.

Jungkook was terrified, and he had spent sleepless nights trying to figure out what to do. He tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy in the days following Mr Kim’s threat, but his efforts were in vain. He had grown distant, pulling away from you, retreating into himself.

He knew you noticed — of course, you had. You were too attuned to him not to see the change, the way he had stopped holding you as tightly at night, how his once carefree laughter had become forced and hollow.

Every time you tried to talk to him about the turmoil he was going through, he could do nothing but lie to your face.

The worst part was knowing that if he told you the truth, you wouldn’t back down. You would fight. You weren’t someone who ran from a challenge; you were strong, fierce when it came to protecting the people you loved.

Jungkook knew that if you found out what Mr Kim had threatened, you would confront him without hesitation, and that scared Jungkook more than anything. Because it would only make things worse.

Mr Kim wasn’t the kind of man you could outsmart or intimidate. Jungkook didn’t doubt that if you stood up to him, he would follow through on his threat, and your family would pay the price.

So, Jungkook said nothing. He kept his distance, convincing himself it was for your sake, for the sake of your parents, who had always treated him like a son.

But the silence was suffocating him. Every time he looked at you, his heart broke a little more. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved the truth, but Jungkook couldn’t give it to you, no matter how much it killed him to withhold it.

He had to keep you and your family safe. Even if it meant sacrificing the decade of love and memories you both created.

He had cried in silence more than once, tears of frustration and helplessness spilling out when he was alone. He would hide in the bathroom or stay late at work, waiting until the office was empty so no one could hear him. In those moments, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams, torn between his love for you and the fear that, if he stayed with you, he would be the reason your family was destroyed.

Jungkook didn’t know how to break up with you.

How do you destroy ten years of love, of memories, with a few words? How do you look someone in the eyes and tell them that everything you had together has to end, even when it’s the last thing you want?

He had rehearsed it in his mind a hundred times, but every time he imagined saying the words, they caught in his throat, too painful to speak aloud.

You deserved better than this shadow of a man he had become, a man trapped by fear and threats. But Jungkook didn’t know how to let you go without shattering both of your hearts in the process. The weight of it all — the lies, the distance, the inevitable heartbreak — was crushing him.

All he knew was that, sooner or later, he would have to make a choice. Either he would find the courage to tell you the truth and risk the consequences, or he would have to sever the bond between you, leaving behind the only person who had ever made him feel truly whole. And in either case, he feared that he would never be the same again.

His movements were slowly and sluggish as he picked himself up. Without tidying his desk, he simply turned off the desk lamp and grabbed his phone and briefcase before heading out of the office building.

As he drove home, his hands shook, and his heart raced as he prepared for what he had to say. He knew you, who trusted him so deeply, wouldn’t understand. You’d demand answers, try to fix whatever was wrong, but he had to stay strong. He couldn’t let you see the truth behind his decision.

Jungkook chose a brutal path that night. He fabricated lies, told you that he had fallen out of love with a woman he didn’t specify. And as expected, you were stunned and heartbroken. You tried to reason with him, to find some explanation for his sudden change. But Jungkook pushed you harder, saying things he didn’t mean.

“How can you just fall out of love Jungkook? We’ve been together for ten fucking years!” you spoke through your sobs. Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, nose red and cheeks damp from the continuous tears.

‘I’m sorry baby, I didn't want any of this to happen’ he badly wanted to say. But he couldn’t.

Jungkook wanted to cry. He had wanted to scream, to take it all back and tell you the truth. He wanted to hold you, wipe away your tears, and tell you he loved you more than anything in the world. But he couldn’t.

Moving out of the house you both shared only plunged him deeper into hell.

In the days that followed, Jungkook found himself drowning in pain of heartbreak. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you — your smile, your touch, the way you used to make him feel whole.

But then it would quickly switch to your hysterically crying form, where he couldn’t comfort you for the first time. And it tore him.

The silence of his new apartment was unbearable, a constant reminder of what he had lost. His heart ached with a deep longing for your presence and your warmth. The nights were the worst. Without you beside him, and without your comforting embrace, sleep became impossible. The bed felt cold and foreign without you in it.

He missed everything about you. He missed the little things — the way you absentmindedly played with your hair when you were thinking, the sound of your voice when you called his name, the scent of your skin when you rested against him.

He had given all of that up to protect you, but in doing so, he had broken his own heart beyond repair.

He often found himself staring at his phone, wanting to call you, to tell you the truth, to explain why he had done what he did. But he knew he couldn’t. If he reached out, if he tried to bring you back into his life, Me Kim’s threats would become reality. You would suffer because of his selfishness, and that was something he could never allow.

Jungkook was trapped in a prison of his own making — one where the love of his life was just out of reach, and he was powerless to change it. Every day felt like a new kind of torture, and the more time passed, the more he wondered if he would ever be able to move on, or if he had doomed himself to a life of loneliness and regret.

┄┄┄┄┄

One thing Jungkook knew after everything that had happened was that his relationship with his parents was never the same.

He stopped visiting home, stopped answering their calls, and distanced himself from their world. He had been straying away from his family’s expectations for years, but this was the final break. Now, the only time he interacted with them was when public appearances made it unavoidable — dinners with influential families, charity events, or any occasion that required the “perfect family” facade.

As far as they were concerned, this was the life he was supposed to lead — marry the right woman, cement the right alliances, and protect the family’s legacy. Jungkook knew that in their eyes, his feelings didn’t matter. He was just a piece in a much larger game.

Anything and everything he did after the break-up was against his will, like the Instagram post of him and Aera posing her hands to announce their engagement.

Aera, meanwhile, was oblivious to the entire situation. She was sweet, and had always had a crush on Jungkook when they were young, but he never saw her that way. Mr Kim had made sure his daughter knew nothing about the threats or the manipulation. To Aera, it seemed like fate that Jungkook had suddenly developed feelings for her.

But Jungkook felt sick every time he had to pretend to care, to smile when she called or laugh at her jokes. But he had no choice. Her father was always watching, always making sure Jungkook played his part.

In public, Jungkook acted like the perfect partner, attending events with Aera, taking her out for dinners, and holding her hand when people were around. But behind closed doors, he was consumed with guilt and despair. Every time Aera smiled at him, it was like a reminder of the life he had thrown away, the love he had shattered to protect the woman he truly cared about. You.

He knew you were watching — the news, the wedding, everything — and he knew for a fact that it only added salt to your wounds. Knowing you for years, he knew you were probably locked away in your house crying your eyes and heart out. The thought of it all was killing him. He longed to run back and tell you the truth, to somehow find a way to stop Mr Kim, but he couldn’t.

It was all over. And he was helpless.

But the least he knew was that you and your family were going to be safe.

━━━━━━━━━━

▌PRESENT

Aera stood frozen with mouth hung open in shock, eyes wide and brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. Jungkook stared at her with emotions she couldn’t clearly read, but pain was one of the apparent.

“I never wanted this, Aera!” he yelled, his hands flailing in frustration. “Do you understand that? I never wanted to marry you!” his face flushed with anger, his voice raw and filled with venom.

“I was forced, Aera,” Jungkook continued.

“Your father threatened me. He threatened my girlfriend, threatened her family. He said he’d ruin their lives if I didn’t marry you” his voice then slowly started to break with the weight of the secret he had carried for so long.

“Ten years, Aera! Ten years of my life wasted! He ruined everything. I had to give up the woman I loved, destroy the relationship I had built, all to keep your father’s threats at bay!” Jungkook’s voice rose again, louder, more desperate.

Aera’s heart cracked at the sound of his anguish. She wanted to reach out to him, to hold him, but her body remained rooted to the spot, helpless and ashamed.

It was in this moment that everything clicked into place, the final piece of the puzzle snapping together with sickening clarity. The memory of a few hours ago rushed back, hitting her like a freight train. The look on Jungkook’s face when you collapsed, the panic and worry that had gripped him — it all made sense now.

He still loved you.

Jungkook was shaken to his core when you fainted in his arms. Aera saw it in his eyes but hadn't understood the depth of it at the time. He had stood there frozen, as if seeing a ghost from the past he had tried so hard to bury. Aera was confused, jealous even, but she didn’t press him on it.

Aera knew about it not too long ago, but she only knew you as a girlfriend Jungkook broke up with a long time ago. But now, it was clear — his concern wasn’t just for an ex-girlfriend he broke up with. It was for the woman he had once loved — still loved — the woman he had been forced to abandon.

Tears streamed down her face, but she barely noticed. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her mind racing to catch up with everything Jake had revealed. “Jungkook,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t…I never-” she still tried to find her voice, and Jungkook’s bitter laugh cut her off.

“Of course you didn’t know. Your father made sure of that. He manipulated everything, every part of our lives, so you would never suspect a thing. I was trapped. I had no choice” he told her. The pain in his voice was raw, and Aera’s tears fell harder.

Jungkook turned away from her as he ran his finger through his already tousled hair, his eyes rapidly blinking as if he’s trying to control his tears.

“I didn’t want this to happen, but fuck! I didn’t want anything to happen to her or her family either” his voice trembled.

All these years, she had been completely in the dark, living in a carefully constructed lie. Her father. He had done this. He had used her as a pawn in his twisted game, manipulating Jungkook, ruining lives, all to maintain control. Aera’s body shook as the truth unraveled before her, too much to bear all at once.

Jungkook then whipped back around to face her, still yelling and pouring out his rage.

“Do you know what it feels like to look at you every day and be reminded of everything I lost? I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard to make this work, to forget what he did, but I can’t! I can’t forgive him for taking away my choice. I can’t forgive you for being part of it, whether you knew it or not” he ranted.

Aera wanted to scream, to tell him she had no idea, and that she was as much a victim as he was. But the words stuck in her throat, choked by the overwhelming pain and confusion. Her hands came up to her face, covering her mouth, as if that could somehow contain the sobs that were building inside her. She loved Jungkook, she believed that their marriage, despite its challenges, had been real.

But it wasn’t real. It had never been real. Everything she thought they had shared was based on a lie, a lie orchestrated by her father’s greed and control. And Jungkook…he hated her for it. All this time, he had hated her.

The tears flowed freely now, unstoppable, and Aera’s knees finally buckled as she crumbled to the floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but there was none. There was nothing left.

Jungkook’s voice softened as he looked down at her, his anger spent, replaced by exhaustion and sorrow. “I never wanted to hurt you, Aera. I never wanted any of this. But I can’t keep pretending. Not after today” he said.

Aera’s mind flashed back to the image of you, unconscious on the floor of the office, the blood staining your face. How long had Jungkook carried this guilt? How much had he sacrificed, all because of her father’s demands?

She wanted to ask him what would happen now, but the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t even think about tomorrow, about what this meant for their future. All she could feel was the immense weight of betrayal pressing down on her, suffocating her, breaking her apart piece by piece.

Jungkook knew that finally telling Aera the truth wouldn’t make a difference to anything. Because he knew he lost everything the moment her father threatened you and your family in ways he still hadn’t figured out.

He knew that confronting Aera about her father wouldn’t change the fact that the ten years he had spent with you was now destroyed. He lost you when the first tear fell from your eyes, and he knew it especially when he fed you lies to make you hate him.

It was all over, and there was no going back. He lost you forever.

┄┄┄┄┄

ONE WEEK LATER

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

“I’M PREGNANT!” was the first thing your best friend screamed as the door to the bathroom slammed open.

You jerked in surprise, and the book you’ve been reading while laying down on your bed slipped from your hands and fell on your face. You groaned as you pushed the book aside, knowing you probably lost the page you were on.

You glanced over at Minhee, blinking slowly. You weren’t exactly surprised by the news. Minhee and her boyfriend were sexually active, and you only knew this because she somehow had to tell you every detail of her life and relationship.

“So...you’re pregnant,” you said flatly, raising an eyebrow. You sat up and folded your arms across your chest, offering your friend a half-smile.

“Should I act shocked?” you asked.

Minhee gaped at you, walking over and holding the test in front of you as if it were a rare artifact. “Yes! You should be shocked! I wasn’t expecting this!” she yelled.

But you were.

Minhee’s hands were shaking slightly as she looked at the pregnancy test. Her face portrayed conflicting emotions — mostly anxiety and disbelief. But there was a little bit of joy too.

This wasn't exactly part of Minhee’s grand plan for her twenties.

You knew your best friend had always been someone who valued freedom above all else — spontaneous road trips, parties, endless nights out dancing. She always said she wanted to enjoy her twenties, traveling, exploring, making memories with the people she loved, not tied down by anything or anyone. At least not yet. A baby had never been part of that plan. Not now.

“Hmm” you hummed.

“I’m happy for you though, you know?” you said sincerely, your face softening you sat up.

“I mean, you’ve got this, right?” you leaned forward and rested your elbows on your knees.

You were genuinely happy for her, despite everything. Even if Minhee wasn't exactly ready for a baby, you knew her well enough to believe that she had figured it out. She was in a good place mentally and financially, and with her boyfriend by her side, you knew nothing could go wrong. Minhee was resilient, after all. If anyone could take on the unexpected, it was her.

Minhee’s eyes danced as she sat down on your bed. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m terrified. But...I think I’m happy too? It’s just…this crazy” she glanced at the test in her hand, her smile wavering slightly, as though the gravity of it all was beginning to sink in.

“Me and Sangmin were going to go to Greece next summer” she trailed off with a sigh. You understood how she was feeling, a baby was a big responsibility, and mentally preparing yourself given the suddenness wasn’t easy.

“Well, I guess Greece will have to wait. But I think you'll be an amazing mom” you reassured her as you pulled her into a hug.

“And hey, you’re not alone in this, okay?” you remind her.

Minhee clung to you, still feeling a little overwhelmed but grateful for the comfort she needed, especially by you. “Thank you” she murmured into your shoulder.

The room fell silent for a moment as you two hugged, but you soon broke it with a soft giggle. You gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled, a childish smile dancing on your lips.

“Wow, can’t wait for my little niece or nephew to join the chaos” you joked as you reached down to place your hand gently on her lower abdomen.

Minhee chucked at your comment and placed her hand over yours, feeling herself less tense than she was before. “Me too” she quietly responded, “mommy is still going to be a wild one either way” she added, earning a loud laugh from you.

“That’s one thing about you that’s never going to change”

Minhee glanced at the pregnancy test still in her hand. Life was about to change — for her and the people she knew. But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this strange, unexpected turn of events, knowing that whatever happened next, she would face it together with the people she loved. You, Sangmin and Mingyu.

┄┄┄┄┄

Later that day, you tagged along with Minhee and went over to Mingyu’s house to hang out, also with the intention of breaking the news to him. Both of you had the same scenario played out in your minds about how he was going to react.

And well…

“Does this mean I can finally teach someone my skills in scamming the system?”

“What the fuck? No! You’re not teaching my child shit” Minhee deadpanned, horrified at his suggestion.

“Ugh, what’s the point then? They need to know how to fuck over the system before the system fucks them” Mingyu rolled his eyes, folding his arms and leaning back against the couch.

“You’re not turning my child into a criminal Gyu” she glared.

“Whatever, but I’m going to be the godfather though, right?” his eyes then lit up as he leaned forward.

“Unfortunately” Minhee sighed.

“Hey what’s that supposed to mean?” he frowned.

You placed your now empty cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table and turned to your male friend. “And I’m the godmother” you barged into the conversation, diverting the attention to the main topic.

“Seriously though, when are you planning to tell Sangmin?” you turned to ask Minhee. Minhee shifted in her seat, not uncomfortably but rather unsure.

“I don’t know to be honest. I mean, his internship at the tech company is about to be over in a month and he’s working really hard paying attention to his work. I don’t really want the news to come in the way and distract him, so I think I’ll just wait until then” she answered.

You and Mingyu nodded understandably. You both knew how important this internship had been for Sangmin. It was a major stepping stone for his career, something he had worked incredibly hard for. The last thing Minhee wanted was to derail his focus, especially since you both knew he was the kind of person who would drop everything to be by her side if he knew.

“It makes sense, honestly. You don’t want to throw this at him when he’s in the middle of such a big opportunity” Mingyu said.

You, who had been listening quietly, nodded in agreement. “It’s smart. But when the time comes, he’s going to want to know everything. You know, like when he starts noticing your bump. And he’ll be there for you, Minhee. I’m sure of it” you assure her.

Minhee hummed in response. “I just…I don’t know how to handle this on my own for a month without telling him” she mumbled as she nibbled on his lip.

Mingyu leaned over and pulled his best friend into a quick, reassuring hug. “You’re never on your own, Min. We’ve got your back, always” he told her.

“I told you, we’re always here for you” you reminded her, joining the small group hug.

You, sitting beside them, smiled softly. It was moments like these that reminded you why your friendship had endured for so long. You were always there for each other, no matter what life threw your way.

“I love you guys” Minhee sighed in relief, relieved that she was surrounded by such supportive people.

For the next few hours, the three of you talked about everything from baby names to how Minhee planned to break the news to Sangmin when the time was right. Mingyu, true to his nature, kept the mood light, cracking jokes about being the coolest godfather in history and offering ridiculous parenting advice that had Minhee and you laughing uncontrollably.

━━━━━━━━━━

▌31 DECEMBER 2022 — [09:30 a.m.]

It was early winter morning, and the cold air was biting at your faces as you stood in the driveway. The sun, hidden behind thick grey clouds, gave a pale light that reflected off the snow-covered ground. You, Minhee, and Mingyu stood around the open trunk of Sangmin’s SUV, ready to load up for your trip to the forest resort.

The New Year’s celebration was something you had been planning for weeks, and now, after a fresh layer of snow blanketed the world around, the excitement was uncontainable.

You, wrapped tightly in a puffy coat and wool scarf, were adjusting your suitcase in the back of the car. You brushed some stray snowflakes from your hair, laughing as Mingyu tried to cram his duffel bag into the limited space left. He always packed like he was going away for a month, even if it was just a few days.

“Come on, Gyu, there’s no way that thing’s fitting unless you leave half of it behind,” you teased, shoving your own bag to make more room.

Mingyu gave you a dramatic eye roll. “I need options, Y/n. Who knows what the wilderness will throw at us,” he joked, pulling at his worn leather jacket and flashing his usual mischievous grin.

“You’re acting like we’re going out to live with the bears in the wild” you rolled your eyes back, folding your arms against your chest.

“Why? Does the idea of it scare you?” he smirked, raising his brow.

“Pfft, scare me? Why would it scare me?” you tried to come off as brave. Although in reality you knew you wouldn’t last a day in the wild.

“Aww, my Y/n-nie is actually scared” Mingyu pouted with his sickening baby voice as he cupped your cheeks with his surprisingly warm hands.

“Don’t worry, your Gyu will protect you” he pouted, taking the opportunity to squish your cheeks together.

“Ugh, whatever” you pushed his hands away.

Minhee stood nearby, watching you both with amusement with her hand resting on her small but noticeable baby bump.

At four months pregnant, she had begun to show, and although she was still glowing with excitement about the baby, there was an undeniable shift in the way she carried herself. Her energy was different — more careful, more thoughtful. She was wrapped in a long coat, her face glowing, framed by her brown curls that spilled out from beneath her beanie.

Despite the cold, Minhee’s cheeks were flushed with the same excitement that had been bubbling in her ever since you all decided to spend New Year’s Eve at a secluded resort in the forest. The snow only made the idea even more magical.

“Are we ready to go?” you asked whoever.

“I think so,” Mingyu shrugged.

You glanced over and noticed Minhee picking up and struggling to carry a smaller but noticeably overstuffed bag. It was filled with the extra things for the trip that Minhee insisted on bringing. Before you could step in to help, Sangmin appeared from the front of the house, his eyes immediately locking onto his struggling girlfriend.

“Minhee!” he called out, rushing over with a look of concern that you and Mingyu had grown used to over the past few months. He was protective of her, almost to a fault, ever since Minhee told him she was pregnant. He had always been caring, but now there was a new layer of vigilance in his every action.

Sangmin reached Minhee’s side in seconds, his hand gently but firmly pulling the bag from her grip. “What are you doing?” he scolded, his voice soft but stern. “You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things right now, remember?” he reminded her.

Minhee gave him a sheepish look, the kind that said she knew she was in trouble but hadn’t thought it was a big deal. “It’s just one more bag,” she replied lightly, but Sangmin was having none of it.

“One more bag is too many,” he said, shooting her a look that made her smile in a way that softened his concern. He dropped the bag into the trunk and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a protective hug.

“I’ve got it, okay? You don’t need to do anything but relax. I mean it, babe” he stared at her.

Minhee sighed but smiled up at him, her hand resting on his chest. “You worry too much,” she teased, though it was clear she appreciated his concern.

“Well, someone has to,” he replied, his tone lightening as he kissed the top of her head.

Minhee rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. She placed a hand on her boyfriend’s arm and squeezed it reassuringly. “I promise I’ll be careful. I just want to enjoy the holiday” she reassured him.

Sangmin sighed, still not fully convinced. He wasn’t thrilled about the trip, especially with the snow making everything more dangerous. The resort was nestled deep in the woods, and while it was supposed to be a winter wonderland, the snow could also be a hazard — slippery roads, icy paths, and the constant risk of Minhee falling and hurting herself. The thought made him uneasy.

But Minhee was firm about going even though you tried to make her reconsider. She planned the trip months ago before the baby and she wasn’t going to back out now.

Her determination had left Sangmin with little choice. She was excited, glowing even, and while he worried constantly, he also knew he couldn’t say no to her. It was their first trip together since finding out about the pregnancy, and despite his fears, he wanted to make it special for her.

You exchanged a glance with Mingyu, who was leaning against the car, smirking at the scene. “You two are like an old married couple already,” he teased.

Sangmin shot him a look. “You’d be the same way if your girlfriend was pregnant,” he muttered, his protective stance softening only slightly as he closed the trunk with a thud.

Mingyu smiled to himself as he thought of the possibility of you and him being together, and the way he knew he’d act exactly like Sangmin if you were carrying his baby.

He felt kind of sick for having such thoughts about his best friend, but he was so deeply in love with you and any thoughts he had were always about you and the life he could possibly have if you’d ever return his feelings.

Minhee bugged him for the longest to confess to you, to consider this trip as a perfect opportunity to do so. But for a muscular, six point one foot tall man, confessing to you was something that terrified him the most out of everything.

However, deep down Mingyu knew he couldn’t keep his feelings locked away forever. It was either he grew a pair of balls and confess to you in the most romantic way, or watch you fall in love with someone else. Though he could never let the latter happen.

“Okay, are we all ready?” Minhee asked, breaking him out of his trance.

“Yup” you all responded.

With everything finally secured, you all piled up into the car.

Sangmin got behind the wheel, and his protective nature settled into quiet focus as he checked the mirrors and adjusted the heater. Minhee sat beside him with her hand resting on her stomach in that absent-minded way she often did now. You and Mingyu climbed into the back, already laughing about the playlist for the drive.

As the SUV rolled out of the driveway, the excitement of your New Year’s trip settled over you like the falling snow outside — soft, quiet, and filled with the promise of creating a beautiful memory.

This trip felt like a new chapter for you — a chance to continue the healing you had started after months of heartache. It had been seven months since Jungkook broke up with you.

The break-up obviously blindsided you, and to this day the memory of the pain was still fresh within you.

But Mingyu and Minhee never left your side. Even during those days when you tried to push them away, they remained constant, showing up for you one way or another.

And slowly, with them around you, you started to pick up the pieces. They took you on hikes, dragged you out for movie nights, and sat with you through endless cups of coffee and conversations that ranged from trivial to profound.

Anything to get your mind away from Jungkook, or at least help you take little steps to moving forward. They were the ones who reminded you who you were when you forgot, and they were the ones who had encouraged you to come on this trip as a little getaway from reality.

┈┈┈┈┈

The drive to the forest resort was about five hours, but you didn’t mind — it gave you all time to unwind, catch up, and enjoy the winter scenery. Sangmin drove carefully, the tires crunching over the lightly snow-dusted roads.

Two hours into the drive, the snowfall started to thicken. Flurries turned into heavy, dense flakes, and soon the roads were coated with a thick layer of snow. The windshield wipers worked overtime, struggling to keep the glass clear. The chatter in the car faded as everyone turned their attention to the increasingly dangerous conditions outside.

Everyone except you, who was fast asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder

Sangmin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He could feel the car skidding slightly as the tires struggled for traction. “It’s getting worse out here,” he muttered.

Minhee looked over at him, her brow furrowed with concern. “Maybe we should stop for a bit. The last thing we need is an accident” she said.

Sangmin nodded in agreement. He’d already been thinking the same thing. The snowstorm was picking up quickly, and he didn’t want to risk driving through it. A small service station sign appeared ahead, offering a bit of relief.

“Let’s pull over here,” he said, guiding the car off the highway and into the lot. The small service station was dimly lit, but it looked warm inside.

“You okay, baby?” Sangmin asked Minhee for what seemed like the hundredth time since they had left the house.

Minhee chuckled softly, rolling her eyes in amusement. “Yes, I’m fine. I promise” she reached over and squeezed his hand.

Meanwhile in the back seat, you were still asleep. The soft from the radio combined with the warmth from the heater had lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber. Mingyu, on the other hand, kept you close while staring out the window. He just hoped the storm died out soon.

As you all waited for the storm to calm, a sudden chill caused you to stir in your sleep. You nuzzled closer to Mingyu, unconsciously seeking warmth, and buried your face into his chest.

Mingyu felt his heart skip a beat as he looked down at you, your cheek squished against his firm chest. But soon, a soft smile curled up on his lips. Adjusting himself, he wrapped his arms around your small frame and pulled you in closer to his body.

You unconsciously readjusted yourself, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He felt you relax again, your breathing softening once more as you fell back into a peaceful sleep. His heart raced, but he tried to calm himself, focusing on the steady rhythm of your breathing against him.

The snowstorm outside raged on, but inside the car, it felt quiet and still. Sangmin glanced into the rearview mirror and noticed you were asleep against Mingyu. He smirked to himself but said nothing. Minhee, too, saw the scene unfold and exchanged a knowing look with her boyfriend.

“You know, Mingyu,” she began, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible, but still loud enough for Mingyu to hear. Mingyu hummed, raising his head to look at his best friend.

“I think you should confess to her during the countdown” she suggested.

Mingyu sighed, turning his attention down to you who was softly snoring against the crook of his neck. Minhee’s idea wasn’t bad, in fact, it was perfect. But Mingyu wasn't sure.

“I don’t know Minhee” he quietly mumbled.

“What if she rejects me? What if she only sees me as her best friend? I don’t think I’ll be able to handle her rejection” he answered as honestly as he could.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking. I know you think her heart’s still with Jungkook because they’ve loved each other for a decade” Minhee began.

“But can’t you see? Our efforts to help her heal are working. Yes a ten year relationship is something that’s going to take a while to move forwards from, but she’s getting there. Sure, she still needs time, but she needs to know that a better man is out there to love her and treat her better. And that man is you, Gyu” she told him.

Mingyu’s eyes started to gloss, his gaze still remained on you.

“Minhee is right,” Sangmin spoke up.

“She’ll only see you as a friend if you keep your feelings hidden. Confession is just a step to take things further, and though she might not feel so strongly at first, I know she’ll grow to love you the way you love her. I promise you that” he said.

There was a long pause, the only sound being the hum of the heater and Mingyu’s soft sniffles as stared at you with longing eyes. His hand unconsciously made its way up and brushed the few strands of hair away from your face.

“She trusts you, Gyu, a lot. She’s grateful for you and everything you’ve done for her. Confessing just means you’re promising her to always be there for her and love her no matter what” Minhee broke the silence.

Mingyu knew you were well unaware of the conversation happening in your presence, and he was glad it was that way. He couldn’t let you see him cry again. It was a side he rarely showed you, because crying made him look weak even though you told him it doesn’t.

“I’ll do it” he quietly said after a pause of silence.

Sangmin and Minhee smiled widely, feeling like they finally accomplished in convincing him. All they had to do now was wait and see, and for that, they were excited. Fingers crossed that everything would go well.

┈┈┈┈┈

[11:50 p.m.]

You stood by the large window of the luxurious forest resort, watching the snow fall gently over the evergreen trees. The storm had finally calmed, but the snow still continued to fall from the sky, covering everything in a soft white blanket. And inside, the warmth of the fire crackling in the stone hearth filled the air.

The resort house was the largest and most expensive one Sangmin could have chosen — an impressive log cabin, but with the charm of a homely, rustic retreat. All so he could make sure Minhee could be more secure and comfortable during the one week stay.

Its wooden beams, dark and polished, stretched across the high vaulted ceilings, while oversized windows offered a perfect view of the snow-covered forest surrounding them. The scent of pine wood mixed with a faint aroma of cedar filled the air, making the entire house feel warm and inviting. Plush leather sofas and fur-lined blankets were scattered across the open living area, where you all had been lounging after your arrival, soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

You stood at the resort’s large open field, surrounded by other guests who were also braving the cold, waiting for the New Year’s countdown and celebration to begin.

The scene was serene, almost magical. The trees that bordered the field were dusted with snow, their branches bending under the weight. The resort’s lights twinkled, emitting a warm glow on the snow-covered ground. Nearby, small groups of people huddled around fire pits, roasting marshmallows, making s’mores, and sipping hot chocolate. The crackle of the fires mixed with the murmur of conversation and laughter. It was the perfect setting for a peaceful night, the warmth of the fires balancing out the cold nip in the air.

Minhee stood beside you, looking content as she carefully sipped her hot chocolate. Sangmin was standing protectively by her side, an arm wrapped casually around her waist. They had been joking and talking about baby names earlier to fill the night with light-hearted conversation.

However, as you looked over at your friends, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. It could’ve been you, with Jungkook.

But this trip was supposed to be a fresh start, a break from the constant ache that seemed to follow you. You couldn’t let anything ruin this perfect atmosphere.

You looked around the field, trying to focus on the beauty of the moment. The snow. The warmth of the fires. The way everyone seemed so carefree.

Mingyu, however, wasn’t part of the lively conversations or the light banter about baby names. He stood just a few feet away, silent and pensive, holding a cup of hot chocolate that had long gone cold. His eyes kept drifting toward you, watching you carefully when he thought you weren’t looking.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Mingyu felt his anxiety rise. It was 11:55 p.m., just five minutes left until the New Year.

He had made up his mind back in the car. He had rehearsed the words a thousand times in his head, but now, standing here in the cold, the words seemed harder to find. His mind raced.

What if you weren’t ready? What if you didn’t feel the same way? He couldn’t imagine losing you as a friend.

Sooner or later, you finally noticed Mingyu’s absence and his lack of interaction, or the way he stood a distance away. You walked over to where he stood and snapped your fingers at him, bringing him back to reality.

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been really quiet” you asked softly, your breath visible in the cold air.

Mingyu forced a smile, “yeah, just…thinking” he sighed. You raised an eyebrow, giving him that look that told him you weren’t buying it.

“About?” you questioned.

“About…you” the words slipped out before he could stop them, and he felt his heart race even faster.

You looked at him, confused, “me?” you tilted your head a little.

Mingyu took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. He chucked his hot chocolate away and faced you fully. There was no turning back now. The countdown began.

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”

“Y/n, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now” his voice was shaky, but he pushed through. He took a step forward, his tall body towering over yours, and took your hands in his.

“I know I shouldn’t be doing this, especially what you’re going through. But you’ve been through a lot, and I hate seeing you like this” he said.

“Mingyu, what are you trying to say?” your voice was low but soft. And your heart was pounding because you saw how his eyes were starting to pool with tears.

“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

“I…I love you Y/n. I love you more than just a friend” he finally dropped the bomb.

“I’ve loved you for a long time. Longer than I probably should’ve. But I’ve always been too scared to say anything. I just…I want to be there for you, not just as a friend, but as a lover. I want to love you better than Jungkook ever did” he confessed, his tears finally breaking free.

Your eyes widened. You stared at Mingyu, processing his words, your heart pounding faster and harder inside your chest.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

Your silence was killing him, and it made him want to dig himself a six feet deep hole and bury himself inside.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I understand. I just…I just want you to be happy” he sniffled, shaking his head as he let go of your hands and took a step back.

“Three, two…”

Before he could take another step back, you grabbed him by his collars and pulled him in, crashing your lips against his.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The cheers of the guests, the crackle of the fire, the cold — it all faded into the background.

It was just you two.

The fireworks exploded in the sky, lighting up the night with brilliant colors. But all Mingyu could feel were the butterflies that had erupted in his chest. His hands reached to cup your face and kissed you back hard, his heart soaring, unable to believe what had just happened.

When you finally broke apart, your eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions. “I don’t know what this means and I don’t know what happens next,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the fireworks.

“But I think I want to find out…with you” you smiled as you wiped away his tears.

┈┈┈┈┈

Jungkook reclined against the plush cushions of his leather couch, sunk deep into the comfort of its embrace.

The large windows of his high rise penthouse framed the dark expanse of the night. It was illuminated by the bursts of fireworks that exploded across the sky, painting it with flashes of brilliant reds, blues, and golds. They celebrated the arrival of the new year — 2023.

In his hand, he loosely gripped a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling lazily with each tilt of his wrist. He stared into it now and again, but his attention wandered back to the windows. His eyes, bloodshot and tired, strained to track the vibrant explosions as they flared in the distance, but his mind seemed somewhere else, adrift in a haze of thought and alcohol. He blinked sluggishly, his eyelids heavy, barely managing to keep them open as he gazed out into the night.

His appearance reflected the complete mess he was. His hair was now disheveled, sticking up in wild tufts as though he'd run his fingers through it one too many times in frustration or exhaustion. The tailored suit he wore hung loosely, the jacket unbuttoned, his shirt wrinkled and partially untucked, its crispness long gone. A loosened tie dangled carelessly from his neck, as though he'd given up on pulling it off altogether.

He looked like someone who had fallen out of sync with the world around him, a man unmoored from the celebration echoing through the city streets below.

The television blared in the background, filling the room with the chaotic clamor of laughter, cheers, and the countdown of voices marking the final moments of the old year. News anchors smiled too brightly, their voices carrying through the penthouse, but the sound was muted, almost faint to his ears. Everything around him felt distant, like watching life play out behind a glass screen. The cheers, the fireworks, the spectacle — it all felt hollow.

His pale skin seemed to glow under the dim lighting of the room, his complexion drained of warmth, the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced than usual. He took a slow sip from the wine glass, his lips barely parting as the bitter taste touched his tongue. It was as though he drank not to enjoy, but merely to pass the time, to keep his hands occupied as his thoughts spiraled inward.

The alcohol coursed through him, dulling the edges of his awareness, but it couldn't mask the exhaustion and depression etched in his face. His bloodshot eyes, glassy and unfocused, lingered on the fireworks outside, though their beauty failed to stir him.

As the night deepened, the sky continued to erupt with color, each explosion a momentary flash of brilliance in the otherwise endless dark. But inside, Jungkook remained still, barely reacting to the bursts of sound or the vibrancy of the display. He was disconnected from the celebration, lost in his own reverie, his body present but his mind elsewhere, heavy with thoughts that weighed him down more than the wine could lift. The year had turned, but for him, the sense of renewal was nowhere to be found.

You were nowhere to be found.

Seven months. Seven months since everything fell apart.

He recalled the ten years he spent with you, filled with laughter, fights, forgiveness, and the kind of intimacy that made the rest of the world fade away.

But now, the only thing that was fading was the memory of your warmth. It was all unraveling, piece by piece, like his life had since the breakup. Your voice, once so lively, had grown dim in his mind. Your laughter, once the soundtrack of his happiest moments, had been replaced by the silence of an empty apartment.

He should be with you.

He could picture you now — your eyes lighting up as the fireworks exploded, your smile wide as you turned to him for that midnight kiss. He could almost feel the soft brush of your lips against his, the way your hand would find his in the moments after, fingers interlacing in a way that made everything else seem irrelevant.

But instead, he was here, alone, watching the world move on while he remained stuck in a place where time felt frozen. The distant sound of the fireworks continued to echo, but to him, it was nothing but background noise. An empty reminder that this was the first of many New Year's Eves he’d have to face without you.

Jungkook’s grip on the wine glass weakened, and he didn’t notice as it slipped from his hand. The glass hit the tiled floor with a sharp crack, shattering into pieces, the wine spilling out like blood.

A choked sob tore from his throat, the first sound he had made in hours. It was raw and broken, a release of the pain he had kept bottled up for too long. His shoulders shook as the sobs wracked his body, tears finally spilling from his eyes, running down his pale cheeks.

He was supposed to be celebrating with you. He was supposed to welcome a new beginning, with you. But he knew it was now impossible. That reaching you was impossible.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what kind of regrets he carried. But what he did know was that perhaps he should’ve fought for you harder.

But none of that mattered anymore. What he was going through, what he needed, and what he felt like, none of it mattered to anyone anymore.

Sacrifices are meant to hurt. Letting go was meant to hurt. Jungkook knew that, but he wasn’t prepared for the agonising pain it came with. But he knew. He knew this was the only way you could be safe.

But why? Why did it have to be the only way?

It was a question he’ll never get an answer to.

He didn’t know what life meant anymore, nor what it held for him ahead. He was just an empty shell walking without a destination.

Perhaps in another life.

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x reader: Awakening Chapter One

Chapter 1: No Matter What

Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Following the Reader go on the large adventure of our heroes create their own path.

Trigger Warning: 16+(?), Some harassment, bit of assault not too sexual, Long aft chapter, we don’t meet B yet :(. So far that’s all.

(In this story the reader is Cybertronian and gender neutral. Going by they/them but you can imagine it’s your preferred pronouns if you wish. Be sure to not harass and bully anyone in the comments. Everyone is free to make their own opinion. The story will sort of be yandere-ish because that’s just fun if I’m being honest. Nothing too sexual but I’ll put it up for 16+. The characters to the reader are super affectionate as the reader is a little affectionate at times being a little more collected. The reader is cogless in the story and like I said the story is a little yandere-ish which means EVERYONE WANTS THE READER HAHAHAHAHA! At the end there will be a two parter. My plan with either the reader goes to join D-16 or OP and elite and Bee. lol making the three have to share you still but D would get the reader all to himself after leaving lmao. But for the ending with the three there will be secret 3 parts of the reader choosing them and becoming a couple at the end. Also no the reader isn’t being a ho. They're just really nice and slowly grow feelings. You can decide who they grow feelings for and who they grow to respect and care for more as a friend. I’m just having some fun at this point lol. I plan to release

6 chapters every Tuesday and yes they will be long so sorry if any of you don’t like long chapters.

The Reader. I want them to be pretty tall and their alt mode is going to be a helicopter. So think much of them like Drift from TF4 and they use swords as well. Compared to Orion and D they’re as tall as like that seen where it’s D and sentinel. They be the same height as D and D and Orion are the size of sentinel. Hope that makes sense. So they’re that same height with and before getting a cog. Their armor color is up to you like their gender as well as which ending you choose for them. You a B simp there is an ending for him like the others you simps lol.

I hope you all enjoy and will love the support as I keep continuing to write this series fiction. Well my first fiction planning to write more after it being transformers or other franchises….ok enjoy Imma go to bed)

The story begins on the planet Cybertron. A planet that’s a whole world of transformation. The story carries through the underground of the planet with buildings of a large city. Tall buildings hanging upside down over the city that stands up.

The story would go to the ground where the miners section, as other Cybertronians were chatting before going to work. A certain bot would walk through the halls and past others greeting them with a warm smile as they make their way to a certain gray bot who was admiring some of his stickers of his biggest idol. The bot would put their hands behind their back as they sneakily come up behind D-16 and whisper, making him jump a bit.

”So?-“ Soon on reflex D turns around and swings a punch at them being started. Y/N easily catches his fist with a soft smile and continues their question.

“How’s the collection coming along D?” They say with a little grin. Still holding his fist.

”Oh! Y/N! Sorry, I kinda just zoned out- Ya- ya know.”

“Oh I’m aware. I admire it too when I pass by you know.”

”Oh yeah- I-I mean, really? I wouldn’t have them if Orion didn’t go out most times. Just wish it didn’t have me saving his aft all the damn time before though.”

”You and I both D. But what can we do?” They say as they put their hand on the side of his shoulder and look at the collection admiring them. D glancing at them for a short moment.

”Beat him?” He says after a second. A cute grin on his face as he looked at them

”D!” They gently push his shoulder and smile.

”What I’m kidding. Ehh, sorta.” The two chuckled joking with each other as they looked at eachother then at D collection. The speakers in the miners section would speak telling the minors it’s time for their shift. D would then sigh and stretch his arms, flexing a bit to show off in front of Y/N. They just rolled their eyes and put a hand on Ds shoulder and starts walking with him as they walked towards the cart and start putting the tools for work before walking out with the others making their way to the train. D pushing the cart as Y/N walks close next to him.

Meanwhile~

The story then leads to a tower hanging on the top of the underground with the others as it shows a Cybertronian climbing and sneaking through a vent from the outside. Carefully landing in silence as he kneels down before red lasers on the ground. Him taking a closer look before looking around and then standing up. Stepping carefully towards his targeted direction. He then starts looking over a shelf with different records searching for a sort of recording chip.

”All right, lets see what we got here.” He says as he picks up a chip. Then walks to a table for the chips to show a recording.

”Seen it. Seen it.” He lets out a sigh as he walked and looked over the ships. “What’s this about?” He asks himself as he then puts the chip down on the table. After the records would start playing but it was a bit messed up being at its old age. The recording will repeat no as Orion would tell it to shush as he tries hitting the buttons.Causing one of the security bots to awaken and turn on floating in the air to find the source. Orion would then get the bright idea to take the chip out to shut it up and look behind him with worry in his eyes as he looked out for anything robot. He would then look back at the chip in his hand and gently blow on it before setting it back. The recording would start to work right.

”Ah, Here we go.” Orion says with joy.

”At the dawn of time. Years ago. There was our gracias and powerful creator. Primus. To protect our universe, he sacrificed his life for us. Transforming his life for us, transforming himself into our planet Cybertron. From within Cybertrons core birthed the first transformers known as the primes. The most powerful transformers appointed to lead future generations. To assist them primus created an entity of great power. The matrix of leadership”

”Matrix, there it is. Ok good. Come on. Keep going” Orion says un aware of the bot coming towards him.

”With the matrix in the primes possession. Cybertrons natural power source, energon. Flowed in abundance. Sustaining life across-“ The recording Continues as the small robot patrols and soon notices Orion. Orion was still watching the recording as he awaited the answer he’s searching for.

“Attention! Unauthorized movement detected at the archived vault. Sector J3.” The snitch robot says to other Cybertronianss with cogs.

“K to K 12 to K to K 1. Perching archives in 10 seconds.” A Cybertronian says with another as the two rocket shoes help them go faster to their intended location.

”For generations, there was peace and prosperity until the matrix of leadership was lost. Causing energon to no longer flow.” The recording says before turning off.

“Ugh, why does every leg and about the matrix end right there?” He sighs before looking in his arm. “One of these has to say what happened.”

“Halt. Criminal. Prepare to be contained”

”Uhh Iiiii”

”Prepare to be contained.”

”Prepare to conta-“ Orion would then punch it very hard after putting his fists up.

He would then run down the hall to where he came in from but the two guards who were warned about him made it in time to stop him. He would then turn the corner trying to escape still.

“Freeze!”

“Get Down!”

“Oh! Well! Hello guys! Yeah! I’m so glad you’re here. Which way is the exit? I must’ve taken a wrong turn.” He chuckles as he walks backwards.

“It’s that defective mining bot. Oreon Pix.”

”Orion Pax.”

”Who cares! We told you to never come back here!”

”Why are we all yelling guys?” He chuckles nervously.

”We are going to smash you!”

”Hold on. Whoa whoa hold on. No need for violence. How about this? I run away. You chase me. We play that game. Huh? Come on. You’re bigger, faster. It’ll be fun.”

”He doesn’t have a cog. Lets give him a head start.”

”Why not? It’s not like he can transform.”

”Oh yeah? Well watch this!” He would then fake a transformer ion to trick the two bigger bots before quickly turning around and running away getting a head start. Leaving the two mad as they both now chase after him.

“Get him!!”

Orion would then run through the archives and do a few stunts along the way. Jumping up and pulling a part of the ceiling down behind him causing it to fall on one of the bots. As he runs he then slides down on the floor as he keeps running looking for somewhere or something to use to escape. The two bots on his tail.

“I uh need something to find. Uh something to find.” He then spotted another bot for the archives.

Stealing the bot and carrying it in his arms as he kept running. The two bots are still chasing him. One of them would then transform mid air into his lt mode. Orion looking back seeing him would then run faster to the window. Jumping into it without hesitation. Orion would then be falling at very tall heights still holding the small robot with his hand. Hitting and shaking the bot to work

”Start!. Come on.” It would then work to help Orion stay in the air a bit as he hanged on.

Soon causing him to go into mid air traffic. Causing him to sort of get hit and him spinning with the bot. He would then hit a wall of a building causing him to let go and fall once more. Sliding down on the roofs of the building and making a fast jump to another one next door. Luckily catching it with his arms and climbing back on top. Noticing the two bots now on his tail again he fully got up and started running for a door.

”Haha. So long suck-“ He would then fall in a room full of Cybertronians speaking to each other. All having their cogs. He would land on a table breaking it and a bunch of energon placed there now around and a bit on him. All of them stare at him and he gets up taking a few energon with him

”Oh energon. Evening everyone. Pardon me.”

As he continued running he would slide off the floor again dropping some energon. Running into a crowd of other cybertronians with their cogs as a few would keep walking and others notice him making a run for it. He would continue to eat small pieces of energon off the floor as he kept running. He continues to run to where the other minors are as he bumps into other bigger Cybertronians who are surprised to see him. He would then notice the train and soon jump off a cliff right onto the train. landing on it causing the others inside to look up and see him.

”Oh it’s Orion.”

”Seriously?”

Orion would then keep running on the train. Once it’s at a complete stop he soon jumps off and continues to run getting closer to the doors for the minors as other minors are walking out. But the two bots would soon catch up and land in front of him, transforming. Orion then stopped to catch his breath.

“Ok. Hey fellas. Thanks for the head start. Wanna give me another one?”

”You’re dead!”

”I’ll take that as a no.” Orion says as he walks backwards again as the two bots get closer and closer now, more angry than ever. But then someone bumps a cart into one of the bots.

”Hey watch where you’re going you-oh nooo” D would then pretend to be surprised as he looked up at the two with his hands up.

”What did you say no cog?” The bot says to D.

”Sorry sir. I didn’t mean you. I was referring to the bot who was behind you.”

”What? Where he go?”

D would then start putting the tools needed back in the cart as he continues to speak to the bots. Helping Orion to escape.

“The filthy red and blue bot? Has a big mouth, squeaky joints, and gives off a carota metallic stench.”

”Where is he?!”

”He went that way.” D would then point to the right direction lying to the bots.

”When I get my hands on him!” The two then leave to the direction searching for Orion again among the many minor bots.

D would start walking to the train, getting on and standing at the other side.

*On the train-

Y/N and Elita were in the train already waiting for the train to start. The two stood. Elita speaking to another while Y/N looked out the window. Curious it’s in their eyes as they also look at the towers above. As they continued to look, Elita would turn and look at them. They sigh and look back down. Elita would dismiss her friend and walk to be next to Y/N looking out the window as well. Elita would then speak. Her hands down.

”So today is quite the day. I’ll finally get my promotion. I’m uhh- a little nervous.”

Elita was sort of lying feeling more confident. But she got nervous around them so much but did a good job not showing it too much. Y/N would then turn their body a bit as they looked at her with a soft smile.

”Elita you’ll do great. I believe in you. You’re a great leader and Sentinel is surely to notice.”

The train would start moving. Elita couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at them. She would then stutter on her words that are almost noticeable.

”O-oh you really believe so?” Her hand almost reached for theirs.

Y/N would then brightly smile and wrap that very hand and arm around her shoulders bringing her a bit closer. Elita caught herself as she then looked at them once at the same height. Their arms are still around her.

”I know it is. If anyone can do it. It’s you.”

Elita would visibly relax then. She would then get the confidence to put her hand on their shoulder as a smile is set on her lips.

”Thank you.” There was a moment of silence.

”And hey if it means you go to bigger places. Imagine! You’ll be an icon to all minors, not just me and the others close to you. Just don’t forget us. Dont forget me yeah?”

Elita would stare at them with soft optics as she stood up a little straight as she noticed they’re getting closer to the mines.

”You’re with me and a way better team than the last one.”

This made them really smile and look back up the window as it slowly gets dark. Them getting in the mines.

*Orion and D-

D was on the train as he nodded to another bot passing by

”Alright, all clear”

Orion would then pop out catching one of the tools from falling as he then would speak to D.

”Ok D-16 I may be a little rusty but carota that is too far. And where’s Y/N??”

”Elita had them join her earlier. To make sure the other miners aren’t going to mess up her promotion.” D would then sigh. Orion almost seemed disappointed like Ds face was. But they weren’t looking at each other.

”Let me guess. Checked out of the Archives?”

”Yeah. I had to jump out a window this time. Almost died. It was wild.”

”And digging through ancient data is worth dying for?”

”Yes it is.” He would say to the both of them as he then falls.

”I need a new best friend.” D groans as he then kneels down to help him.

“If there are clues in our recorded history that can help locate the matrix of leadership they’re in the archives. Trust-”

”Sentinel Prime. Thee sentinel prime is up on the surface. Right now. Is risking his life for us in search of the matrix. That’s-“

”Exactly what I’m doing! But I’m trying to help him!”

”Yeah. Oh oh ok.”

”The sooner energon flows again the sooner we won't have to mine for it. Don’t you wanna choose your own path. Do whatever you want?”

Orion would then leave against the cart as D will have both arms on the cart.

”We’re miners. We mine. That’s all”

”No, there's got to be something more I can do. I can feel it.”

”Oh yeah? Like the time that you had a feeling you could transform without a cog?”

”You said you were never going to mention that again!”

”Took me 3 days to pry you open. Your feelings get you in trouble.”

”Yeah. Yeah.”

”Just trust Sentinel Prime.”

”I do trust in him.”

”Hey. If we did have cogs.”

”I’d transform into a shovel and beat you.”

”I don’t like how fast you answered that.

“And listen if you did beat me. I couldn’t give you this awesome Megatronus prime thing I have here. It’s cool I’ll give it to someone else”

”What megatronus prime thing?

”Ah it’s nothing, it's just you know a mid-condition Megatronus prime decal first edition.” Orion would then show to be holding a Megatronus prime sticker between two fingers. Causing D to gasp before speaking.

”What?” He says in a low voice.

”I mean if you don’t want it I could just throw it away.”

”Throw it away!? Don’t- That’s not funny! Let me see it!” D tries to grab it before Orion pulls away.

”Don't grab. You’ll increase it.” Orion would then put the sticker on Ds arm and give his shoulder a nice pat before D speaks

”You know Sentinel prime says Megatronus was the-“

“Strongest Prime to ever live. I know buddy…It looks good on you.”

”It’s really cool. Thanks.

“Always Got Your Back.”

”No Matter What”

The two will the fist bump as they both smile at each other. Showing their brotherhood. (*crys*)don’t look at me)

The train would go into the mines as a lady over the speakers on the train would speak to the minors before their shift.

“Approaching sub level stations .Stand by of doors. Mining teams prepare to-“

The story then shows the works of mines as energon is shown falling out of mining carts. The coal of energon goes through a machine and soon shows energon flowing. Soon the miners for the shift at that hour fly through with rocket packs as they fly in unison to the designated spot. Y/N being behind D and Orion and speaks along with the others when speaking in unison.

“Metal to the pedal drill bits. This is it. How much energon you mine under my leadership.” Elita speaks as the leader she is.

“So much Elita One.” The minors say in unison.

“And how perfect is my mining record?”

“So perfect Elita One.”

“We are near 30 units of energon away from my promotion to supervisor. Are you happy for me?”

“So happy Elita One.”

The minors then land at a mining section. Elita in front with D and Orion right behind her. Y/N right next to Elita walking with here having their hands behind their back. A little smile on their face as usual.

“Elita- I mean Captain. You’re looking especially shiny this morning. New polish?”

Y/N Would look back at the two. Happy to see the two as the two would also look at them happy as Orion and Elita continue to talk.

“Orion Pax I’m sorry if I gave off the impression that we’re friends.”

“Apology accepted.”

“One up that wall! Let’s go! 10 seconds!”

“Happy to take the lead today captain. Feeling like I have enough power in me to drill down and touch primus myself.”

“You don’t have the touch or the power. Ready positions rust buckets. Let’s go!”

Elita would then start running as D and Orion continue to keep walking with their tools. Y/N joining her as they wave at the two before following. Orion and D would wave at them as they both have little cheeky smiles.

“She’s in a good mood today.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You ready?”

“Always ready. Lets punch it.”

They all would go to a section of the mines as a hole then a path opens up for them with much energon inside. Y/N still next to Elita as they ran along into the tunnel. Other bots behind them setting up a a sort of tool that extends to help keep the tunnel open for them. Once things are set Y/N and the other minors start to fly deeper into the mines. Finally landing and start using their tools. Taking out any peice of energon they can.

“Here we go, this one won't be open long. Brace it up.”

“Here we go! Ready!”

“Our channel is open.”

“Roll it out.”

Orion would glance over at them every now and then while D would focus on work a little more then Orion. Y/N continues their work until they hit something. But as they continued the energon would start reacting aggressively and the cracks wuld start to spread.

”Hey I got som-“

“It’s not stable! Gotta go. Gotta move!”

Everyone would start flying out of the mines flying up. Soon everyone getting pushed more by a explosion of the energon.

“Evacuate! I want everyone out! Evacuate immediately! The tunnel is closing! I repeat. The tunnel is closing!”

Elita an a few other minors fly away not being in the mining path. Jazz, D, Orion, and Y/N still behind in the mine as they keep flying escaping the closing mind right behind them.

“With me D?”

“On your six. Keep going!”

“Jazz? Y/N?”

“Right behind you” the two say together.

“Watch out!”

A giant rock would land on Jazz leg. Y/n was close to him and they already got up to start pushing the rock.

“Jazz is stuck! Elita we got a trapped minor. I’m falling back to assist.”

“Negatives do not break protocol. Evacuate.“

“We’re gonna need more lift!”

”We need a miracle!” Y/N and D said as struggle is heard in both their voices.

“It’s closing! Just grab your pack and go!”

“Good idea.”

“What?! No I didn’t mean it!”

“Pull him clear!” Orion would pull jazz as D and Y/N keep pushing. The pack soon exploding. Orion would protect Jazz as D. and Y/N lean away from the explosion to protect their self.

“Pax what’s happening?”

“Nothing much. Just normal protocol following stuff. It’s all good….oh that’s not good.”

The four would then hear a rumbling sound as they looked back. The place would then cause a sort of electric wave causing dust to go everywhere.

“Orion Pax, would you please exit the tunnel of death.”

“Elita1 it’s about to get messy out there!”

The wave would then reach the others and push Elita and the other minors back. The four are running together as fast as they can. Elita would throw the tools to keep the path open. Y/N behind D as they get closer and closer to the others. Everything is collapsing around them.

“Go go go!”

The four made a jump and were able to get out in time. D having to have talked Elita to save her while Y/N was right behind Orion. They were all able to get out. Y/N face planting on the ground

“What the hell Pax? I told you to evacuate.”

“I did. Eventually.”

Orion says as he and Elita speak while slowly standing up. D standing as he help Y/N giving her a hand. Before turning to help Orion. The three now looking at Elita while she spoke.

“If I get fired because of you!”

“Oh please. They’re not going to fire you.” Darkwing would then land behind her from the ceiling as he looked down at her.

��Elita One, you’re fired.”

“What?! Why? I follow protocol to the letter!”

“That is true. I was the one who broke the rules not-“

“No one asked you. Darkwing please I worked too hard for this you can’t-“

“You are no cog bots with limited options. report to waste management immediately.”

“Waste management?”

Elita would walk towards the three with anger in her eyes. Y/N looked at her sad as they try to reach a hand towards her.

“Elita.”

“Next time, why don’t you stop and think before you ruin someones life.”

“I'm sorry..”

Y/N would then get an idea and walks past the two and up to Darkwing. Getting in front of him after speaking to wheeljack

”The hell is your problem? Elita is just as good as any other like a cog bot I know and we know! OK you-“

”As I said. You are cogless bots with limited options. The only thing that makes any of you special is your ”relentless” need to work and eat. And the only way to get off that. Is to have a cog.”

He would then get in their face. Their face natural but their eyes are now farrowed as they stared up at him. They would then open their mouth only for him to interrupt them

”But we-“

”If you want more such as Elita did before. I suggest you either get better at your job or try a job where you will be a “little more” noticed.” He would put his hand on their shoulder a little closer to their head. D and Orion noticed and the two started to worry until Orion would got an idea

Y/N would look at his hand then look down, almost worried. Darkwings hand showing to squeeze their shoulder a bit.

”I’ll personally take you to the destination myse-“

“Hey Darkwing!” Darkwing takes his hand of them and stands up a bit straighter as he looks at Orion. Y/N look at Orion a bit worried for him

“Don't do it.” D said a bit annoyed with Orion but he mostly watched over Y/N.

“I may not have a cog but my finger can transform. Guess which one. I’ll give you a limited option.” Darkwing would then throw a punch towards Orions head until D stopped his fist with his hand.

“Excuse me sir. Allow me.” He then punches Orion on the side of the face

“I apologies on his behave for the disres-“ Darkwing would then punch D in the face

“whhhyyy”

“D!” Y/N would walk past Darkwing. He would watch them as they kneel down and look at them both. Darkwing would then scoff

“The offer still stands. Don’t let these two cogless scrap hold you back Y/N. They ain’t worth the time.” He says as he stays standing behind them. Crossing his arms as he looked down at him

”I’m fine with just where I am now. “Thanks” Darkwing but I can make my own connections and place as a cogless bot.” They give him side away. While he grumbles and walks away

They would look back at thee two. Orion sitting up as he groans from being punched and D doing the same but a bit slower. They help Orion and then D as they speak.

”Come on guys. Lets go back tot he train. We’re done here.”

The two groan as they say yeah in unison. Orion putting his hand on D shoulder while Y/N had one hand on his chest and the other on his back as he had his arm around their shoulder. The three would walk to the direction and get new jet packs along with everyone else. The three would soon make it to the train and head back to their mining quarters as they were done with that shift for the day.

*On the train-

Orion, D and Y/N stand on the train. D leaning on the window as he rubs the side of his face he was punched at. Orion leaning against the window on his back crossing his arms. Y/N stands as they put their hands on their hips and looks down. Worry and annoyance in their face. Orion notices this. Scratching the back of his head as he stands up a bit straighter and lets his arms down.

”You meant what you said right? Uh back there about the-”

”Yes Orion. I do mean it. Darkwing doesn’t know what he’s talking about when it comes to us miners. Just was he’s been told. At least from my point of view.” They would look at him. Orion smiling a little from their words

”So you will stay with us?”

”I’m at a better place with you guys then anywhere else Pax.” They say as they put their hand on his shoulder. Giving him a warm smile. D would then groan a bit more

”How much longer??”

”Just a couple more minutes D. Then you can rest better bud.”

”Yaaaaaaaayy”

Orion and Y/N would chuckle as they both looked at eachother. The train continueing.

*Back at the minors quarters-

“That. Really. Hurt…”

“Well what did you expect, he’s metal.”

Y/N was standing next to D and puts a hand on his shoulder and their other on their hip as he rests his head on his fist and looks down.

“You know you were out of line. Talking back to a superior like that.”

“Darkwing was out of line. He deserves it…Aren’t you tired of being treated like we’re nothing.”

“He had every right to hit me. I interfered.”

“Hey. And I appreciate you having my back. I’m glad you were there with me to get punched in the face. It was fun.”

“Anytime buddy.”

Y/N would look at them with a warm smile on their face. Crossing their arms as the two would chuckling together. Feeling better right away

“Attention all sectors stand by for a live transmission from Sentinel Prime.”

“He’s back? He’s back already?”

D would look at Orion and Y/N as the two stood up and the three went closer to where the hologram of Sentinel Prime would appear.

“Maybe he found the matrix.”

“Is it on? Ok, thank you. Hello my friends. Hello Iacon city. Hello to our saviors. Industrious miners, who toil ruthlessly to maintain our energon reserves. I celebrate you.”

Y/N next to Orion as D stands on his other side. Orion and Y/N stand their with soft smiles keeping their hands behind their back.

“Humility and presents. That’s leadership. Nobody does it better!” D says looking at the two. The two looking at him happy to see him smile.

“Once again I have narrowly returned with my fleet after another treacherous expedition across the desolate, dangerous surface of our planet. I departed in hopes of finding the matrix of leadership and in bringing balance to Cybertron. I regret to inform you that we’ve returned empty handed. This is a set back. But not a failure. Rest assured. I will find the matrix of leadership so that energon can flow again. but that’s in the future. Right now I think we all deserve a little fun. Tomorrow there will be no work, all shifts off. Because tomorrow is the Iacon 5,000. My favorite event a high obtain race all across Iacon city. Let’s all see which competitive can prove they are truly more than meets the eye.”

Everyone cheered excited thanks to sentinels speeches. D going to another bot to cheer while Orion and Y/N stood there. Orion was deep in though as he thought about Sentinels words. Y/N noticed and put a hand on his shoulder giving him a small smile. Later that night while everyone else was asleep Orion was the only one awake. Looking over at D who was across from him.

“D….Pst. Hey D….Oh good you’re up. Come on, I have an idea.”

“Whatever this is, it better be good.”

“Yeah yeah yeah ok listen. What if- What if- What if! Tomorrow we ran in the Iacon 5000! Huh?”

“What if I kill you for waking me up?”

“No no no hear me out. We don’t even have to win.”

“Nah that’s good ‘cause we wouldn’t.”

“But! If we beat just one transformer it proves we’re just as good as they are.Not only would we go down in history the- the mining bots that did the impossible but we would show everyone that we’re capable of so much more.”

“Or we get publicly humiliated and then busted back to tear one.”

“Yeah but at least we would’ve done something you know?”

“Pax.”

“Come on D-“

“Pax. We’re mining bots who can’t transform. We can’t fly. We can’t roll. We can’t race. Come on lets go.” D would start leaving back to the others to go back to sleep

“All right, fine. Yeah maybe you're right. Maybe…..” He would look at the board his face will show determination as he has his mindset on a new plan he’s sure to work

Oh yeah first chapter of Transformers One story where you’re a miner! Sorry for this being so long but every moment just feels right to add! Can’t wait to power chapter two next week and at least some of you enjoyed this lol. Any feedback or criticisms is welcomed and hope you all have a good rest of your Morning/Afternoon/Night

[sleepy-sirin]

Incarnation (Honkai Star Rail x Child! Herrscher! Reader)

Summary: In which Y/n, the creation of Will of Honkai, successfully defeated her own creator with the help of her friends. After defeating the Will of Honkai, for using too much of her power she goes into a deep sleep.

Previous | Next chapter

Chapter 6

Third POV:

Everyone took out their weapons and start fighting. Each of the Silvermane Guards attacks the Trailblazers one by one. The guards didn't want to hurt Y/n since she's a child, but it went backfire when she summons her tentacles and wrapped their bodies then suffocate them to death.

One of the Silvermane Guards who remembered you, suddenly got a trauma upon seeing your tentacles, they decided to not to approach you and avoided you.

All of the Silvermane Guards were all defeated and too tired to fight. Bronya seeing the guards was unable to fight again, so she decided to do it herself. It took 30 minutes to finish off their fight.

"This girl's pretty strong... Hey Dan Heng, maybe now's a good time to show off your secret strength!?" March said.

"...You first." Dan Heng said to March.

"Ugh, you're no fun." March said.

"Intruders, give it up! You will be guaranteed a fair trial." Bronya said.

"Ooh! Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the intensity of the moment~" A familiar voice said.

Three smoke bombs were thrown in front of them, as it exploded, the five of them started coughing from the smoke.

*Gasp* "What is this?" Bronya said as she covers her nose from the smoke.

"...I can't breathe..." March said.

Sampo appears from the four of them. "I have one thing to say: Sampo never lets friends who've helped him come to harm."

"I say what I mean... and I mean what I say." He said.

After the smoke was gone, the only ones who were conscious were Sampo, Dan Heng, and Y/n.

"So you decided to come back after you ditched us." Y/n said as she crosses her arms.

"Sorry, but hey! Sampo is here to save you guys!" Sampo said.

Sampo carries Stelle and Dan Heng carries March. The five of them left, leaving Bronya alone.

"Where are we going?" Dan Heng asked.

"Boulder Town, that's where I lived." Sampo said.

They have arrived in Boulder Town, which it is in the underground in Belobog. Sampo said that they will go to a clinic to take their friends who was unconscious a rest.

"Natasha, I'm back! And we have some guests here." Sampo said as he greeted someone. A middle-aged woman with purple eyes and fair complexion. She has blue-gray hair that's bob-like in front with two symmetric strands reaching her shoulders, the back tied in a ponytail.

"Sampo, who are they?" Natasha asked.

"These guys are my new friends." Sampo said.

"We're not your friends." Both Y/n and Dan Heng said.

Y/n didn't want to be here, so she decided to leave the clinic quietly without anyone noticing her. She roams around Boulder Town and noticed that some of the citizens here were whispering behind her back.

A few couple of steps, Y/n hears footsteps behind her, as she turned around a two Vagrants aim their weapons on Y/n. Someone appeared in front of them, they aim their scythe at the Vagrants.

"You dare attack someone on our turf...? Well? How about a few rounds with me?"

A young woman with long purple hair and light purple eyes. She wears a purple scarf with red and white details, as well as a white, black and purple outfit with black shorts. Y/n eyes widened as she saw someone familiar with her, and it was Seele Vollerei.

The Vagrants didn't want to deal with Seele, as they decided to leave them alone.

"Hey, kid. Are you okay." Seele asked.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me, Seele." Y/n whisper her name.

Y/n didn't think that she would meet Seele again, after she saw her and Sin Mal sacrifice their selves by combining their power to create a massive explosion killing and getting rid of all Honkai around them.

Flashback

"Are you still crying, Seele?" Sin Mal asked.

*sniffles* "That's enough. I have decided that I will no longer be cowardly and sad... If I have to say it, I'm afraid that such a large-scale quantization ability... is actually unrealizable." Seele said.

For the ability to function in the interior of the moon, Seele and Sin Mal must continue to go deeper and deeper.

To extend her ability to stop time, Sin Mal asked Seele to transform herself into a quantum object.

"It's okay, Seele. It must be possible. Until the end, I will always be by your side." Sin Mal said.

Clocks and gears fell off

Sin Mal was reaching her limit.

"Isn't there a price for all this?"

“Overuse of abilities, the user will get tired, life will be shortened, and the user will die…”

"That's all."

Until the end of her life, Sin Mal finally discovered that what she really wanted to do was accept her fragile self.

Seele and Sin Mal left text messages before leaving to let others know what they had done.

At the end of their lives, both of them thought at the same time——

"Sister Mei, Kyuushou."

"We have a million reluctances."

"We are not willing to leave Sister Bronya to mourn our deaths."

"We ourselves don't want to make sacrifices, whether they are required sacrifices or careless ones."

"But... we don't want to live like this."

"Are we really so small and helpless?"

"Does all our suffering really have meaning as long as it's mixed with precious memories?"

"Born for the wrong reasons, in the wrong world"

"Are they really worth saving?"

"We think it's worth it."

"Because it is us"

"It's also a world where everyone lives."

"For all the pain and trauma in this world, there are still people who are painfully living and breathing"

"To reach the time when everything is paid off"

"To achieve a victorious future"

"Whatever it takes."

"We all want to bring back the miracle called hope."

"This is—our last wish,"

"Let the Will of Honkai see——"

"The power of falling stars!"

Taglist: @starxao

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 7 - Bermondsey Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 6 Summary: You reconnect with Neil a couple of days after the night you spent together. The meeting sparks many questions and revelations. In other news: Tenet agents are a nuisance. Neil knows that best. Warnings: Swearing, explicit language, tiny bits of angst because who would I be without it. Author's Notes: It's been 84 years... but it's here! 🎉 And it's 16k apparently. Sorry about that. As you've noticed my brain (and heart) are all over the place but this story is still very much alive. These two are not letting me go, soo... Let's keep going. Thank you to anyone who's waited this long 💕 I really appreciate you. I've got so much planned for them and very excited to share it with you. And, seeing as from next Saturday I'll be in London for a week, there might be even more inspiration ✨ (I'm definitely taking Jubilee Line from St. John's Wood to Canary Wharf. It's all I'm saying) For now - enjoy two idiots being idiots. And a cameo appearances from the Tenet crew because it's high time Cupid met them ;))) Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Checking the contents of your bag one last time before leaving the flat, you sighed from the oncoming headache already building behind your temple. What a stupid idea it was to hit the snooze button five times instead of being a big girl and getting up at the first sound of your alarm. Now, thanks to your idiocy, you had no time to get that much-needed hit of caffeine if you were to make it for the usual 7:21 train from St. John’s Wood. And you were keen to make it. If only because you promised him.

You were less eager to admit other reasons motivated the rush, going far beyond an agreement that Neil would not hold it against you if you were to break the promise. Reasons such as the inexplicable itch underneath your skin that started sometime last night upon a reminder that you were going to see him today. For the first time since that night. The nightÔ - now officially trademarked, thanks to your idiotic brain. The feeling did not cease even when you tried to remind yourself that there was nothing extraordinary about what transpired then. No actual reason to behave in this irrational way.

Nothing of importance happened. Nothing ground-breaking or life-changing. Just an expected result of weeks of flirting and tension triggered by a bottle of red wine and a natural connection. Just spectacular sex.

If you dared add. A self-satisfied smile stretched over your face at a mere memory, powering you through those final steps before you could leave the apartment and lock the doors, bounding down the steps with no concern over the noise. Fuck the neighbours. Or something like that.

By now, four days later, you were quite good at getting rid of the confusing thoughts the moment they bloomed. Not seeing Neil certainly helped, as did the harrowing afternoons and evenings devoted to the performances. On the stage, you never had the time to think about nonsense such as this, focused on executing the choreography and maintaining that signature, flirtatious Cupid smile that was even rewarded a mention in one of the first ballet reviews. (Truly, a highlight of your unmemorable life if you were to be honest).

The other thing that helped make sense of the mess in your head was Neil’s phone call. It acted as a push in the right direction, a reminder that you had to be the reasonable one. The one to guide him along, highlighting the facts as there were. That the night mattered, in the meaning that it was hardly forgettable. Nothing had to change between you. And most importantly, Neil was the one calling the shots because you were more than happy to continue.

You repeated those truths in the quiet of your head until they felt like certainties. And now, finally, they did. On a cloudy Wednesday morning, you could freely admit you knew what you were doing. The Friday night confusion was just a glitch, an inconsequential event in the grand scheme of things that would bear no impact. Now or ever.

Smiling as you shouldered past the loitering tourists at the entrance to the station, you allowed yourself a nod. Everything was in order. The last piece of the puzzle – Neil’s say in the matter – was the only thing missing.

Despite the wish to remain as detached as possible, you hoped it would be a ‘yes’ rather than the opposite. Even if only because your selfish soul did not want to let him go. Just yet.

The 7:21 train arrived at the platform as you stepped off the escalator and rushed into the middle carriage. By now, your gaze was trained on finding Neil with embarrassing speed, eyes darting over the faces of commuters until they would find what they sought. Today, it took less than ten seconds to locate him, sat in one of the double-seat rows. Neil must have been on the lookout as well, for as soon as your eyes fell on him, you found him staring back. An unshakeable shiver travelled down your spine as Neil’s mouth quirked into a smile. Friendly, yet uncertain. As if he was debating the possibility that you could turn on your heel and leave instead of crossing the space to join him. The idea seemed ridiculous enough that you had to smother a laugh as you fell into the plastic seat with a bright grin ready on your face.

There was no other place you would rather be. Truly.

“Hi,” raising your hand in a pointless wave, you widened the obnoxious grin and allowed yourself another scanning look over his face.

Nothing seemed to be amiss except for the slight weariness in his gaze, as if, for Neil, the few days apart did not eradicate the doubts and worries. As if he was still not sure where you would go from here. Or how he should act around you now. After everything.

You vowed to erase his concerns before you were to part at Southwark. That simply would not do.

“Hey…” Neil murmured the complimentary greeting, his hands flexing in his lap. Before you could decide to reach over and still their nervous twitching, a flash of pain passed through your skull, making you wince. That did not go unnoticed “Are you okay?” the softness of his tone made your heart give out a warning summersault.

With anyone else, you would heed the warning and do everything to get rid of the strange sensation filling your chest. With Neil, you could only swallow past the feeling and offer him a dimmed smile and an honest reply:

“Yeah, it’s just a headache. I didn’t have the time for coffee if I wanted to make it” the grumpiness shone through your voice as you pressed your fingers against the throbbing spot on your temple and sent an inward curse to the gods responsible for the passage of time.

With half the mind to start digging in your bag for the painkiller that was definitely (hopefully) somewhere inside, you did not clock Neil’s movements until he tapped your knee and placed a takeaway coffee cup in your line of vision. Startled, you turned your head to look at him, an unasked question already on your tongue.

“Here, you can finish this” flashing you an easy smile, Neil all but shoved the lukewarm cup into your hand.

Your brain needed additional minutes to process the unforeseen developments as you tightened the hold over the cup and regarded him silently. Only then the shocked, delighted smile made an appearance on your face:

“Good god, I didn’t know we’re at the stage where we’re sharing caffeine sources” the faux gasp was a worthwhile addition, triggering Neil’s laughter.

For a split second, you were content to bask in the glory of it and the knowledge that you were the sole cause. You did this to him.

Still, the sentiment was true. You could barely recall the last time someone was kind enough to buy coffee for you, let alone share theirs. And never on their own accord, leaving you almost lightheaded from the tenderness of the gesture. You stifled the feeling with another exaggerated smile.

“Do you want it or not?” Neil arched his eyebrow, aiming for sternness but failing.

You could see the joy in his eyes, lighting them from within.

“Oh, I do, I do” sending him one last grin, you raised the cup to your mouth and took a long sip. As that first taste of the cappuccino hit your tastebuds, you stifled a pleased groan and relaxed into the seat, “Thank you, kind Sir” tipping an invisible top hat at Neil, you cherished another chuckle dragged out of him and added, “You’ve saved my life” taking another sip, you met Neil’s gaze, seemingly unwavering in its focus on your face.

You watched as his eyes roamed over your features to glance at your mouth and stay there. Stuck perhaps. Without daring to give it second thoughts, you allowed your tongue to dart out and swipe over your lips. Even then, you did not look away from Neil, feeling the electricity crackle and snap between you. Another beat passed before he looked up, startled and caught with the blush dusting his cheeks. It was impossible not to chuckle, breaking the tension by looking away.

Not without effort. And not for long.

“Eternally at your service” you got as far as downing the coffee before Neil spoke again, his quip making you inhale sharply.

Being caught unaware by blatant flirting was new. Unprecedented, yet not unwelcome. And easily redeemed. You turned your head to meet Neil’s unwavering gaze and offered a knowing smirk, matching his expression. Without wasting another second, you leaned in closer, eradicating the gap between you and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“You are, aren’t you?” the question did what you needed it to as Neil leaned back enough to meet your gaze again and quirked the corner of his mouth into a pleased smile.

The awkwardness of those first few minutes seemed to be past you now, overtaken by the easy banter. You settled into the feeling and the comfort it brought without trying to understand why that was the case. It was better that way.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you felt Neil’s gaze back on you. Its weight was not a burden, leisurely caressing the outlines of your body before opening the page for a new question:

“So… How’s work?” you glanced at Neil just in time to see his easy smile, the interest clear in his eyes.

That part of your friendship was something you valued highly because you could not find it anywhere else. With anyone else. Only Neil seemed to care about the mechanics of professional ballet and the trials and tribulations it entailed. Only he seemed curious about your goals and aspirations, always so eager to hype you up despite you never asking for it.

You were sure the soft smile was already present on your face as you offered him a reply:

“It’s good. Got stellar reviews, as I’ve told you, and now the other Cupid is taking over for a couple of days so I can prepare for the auditions for the next one” the mention of what awaited spiked your anxiety, even if only by a fraction.

Because the prospect was terrifying. Even with the hours of prep and previous season’s experience, you could not ignore the fears. There was no certainty you were good enough to get another breaking role. There was no confidence in that matter either if you had to search your heart and soul. There was only fear nagging at the edges of your conscience with increasing urgency.

You knew it would only get worse in the span of half a week that was left.

“The Nutcracker?” Neil’s complimentary question kept you anchored in the present.

It also proved that he listened to all the bullshit you spewed every time you met. And that, much like shared coffee and the desire to get to know you, was worth more than you could express. More than you dared contemplate if you wanted to maintain the relatively unbothered mood and the illusion of nonchalance.  

“Yeah. I’ll prepare a couple of variations and hope for the best” only when you felt Neil’s hand cover yours did you become aware of your fidgeting, of the restless fingers picking at the hangnails. The comforting weight of his palm stilted the movement and offered bravery you did not realise you needed to speak the thoughts into existence, “I could show you what I’ve got in a couple of days,” the wavering notes of your voice made you cringe, instantly removing any pretence of cool you wished you could maintain. If only because you cared. Too much “If you-” the end of that rambled disclaimer was cut short.

Thank god.

“I’d like that” Neil squeezed your hands and sent you a reassuring smile, somehow already knowing what it was that you needed, “Seems like I’m already experiencing the withdrawal symptoms” the candid tone did nothing to help you ignore his wink or minimise the impact of the statement.

You blinked twice as your brain absorbed and processed the words. Only then you turned towards Neil with a deadpan expression and asked:

“… from my unremarkable dancing?” measuring him up silently, you took passive note of the station you had just arrived at.

There was still time. Time to offer Neil space to take back what he just bestowed on you. For him to deny the praise hidden in the corners of his affectionate smile and within the light in his eyes. But he did not seem eager to backtrack on the words you did not think you deserved.

“From your incredible dancing, Cupid,” signing off the accolade with another one of his charming smiles, he lifted your hand to his lips and turned it to press a fleeting kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Over the pulse point. A gasp was inevitable as you closed your eyes and let the sensation burn through your body and soul. Just as Neil intended. It was fleeting, yet the impact felt almost permanent. Impossible to shake off.

You did your best, opening your eyes to see his pleased smirk and ignoring it entirely to huff in pretend annoyance:

“Christ, you’re such a charmer” an eye roll thrown into the mix completed the act as Neil let go of your hand and let it drop back to your lap.

The sensation persisted, making your skin tingle. Unconsciously, your thumb rubbed over the exact spot he kissed. It did nothing to eradicate the sensitivity.

“You like it, though” mindless of your turmoil, Neil bumped his shoulder into yours, the dangerous grin blooming on his beautiful face.

It took you one look to know you were foolish to think one night with him could have been enough. Stupid to believe Neil was someone you could let slip through your fingers after getting to have him. Now, with the decision entirely up to him, you could only wait, taking what was freely offered. With that reminder, it was easy to forgo the remains of pretence. Even if just this once. Once more.

“You’re right” the only sign that he was not expecting your straightforward answer was how his eyes widened, roaming over your face with renewed intensity. By now, you knew there was no point in trying to decipher his looks, so you simply stared back. Unwavering and confident in what you wanted him to know, “I like you,” noting the slight hitch in his breath, you added, “Neil,” emphasizing his name the way you did on Friday night, you met his increasingly alarmed gaze and offered a smile. A wordless reassurance that he need not fret that you have gone insane. Not yet, anyway. Before the charged moment could evolve into something you could not control, you swallowed hard and asked the only question that required no thinking or clarity of mind, “How’s the parish?”

The manic grin, signing off the not-subtle change of topic, was a touch too much. Admittedly. It slid off your face as quickly as it appeared and was buried in the hard stare you directed at the dirty floor of the carriage.

But not for long.

“Great, many… devotees and all” the joy in Neil’s voice alone was not enough to make you look up.

But it was enough to make you crack a tentative smile, relieved that the joke still had not gone stale. You quite enjoyed it. For whatever reason.

Following the hopeful thought, you raised your head again to meet his gaze. On the periphery of your attention, you noticed the fact that Neil had never looked away, but you filed the knowledge for future use (that would likely never come) and instead offered him a cheeky look:

“All that jazz?” framing your face with infamous jazz hands, you waited with bated breath for the quip to land.

It did with an uproar of laughter and Neil’s striking eyes gazing at you with something you could not decipher if you tried. Wordlessly, you offered him something similar, an affectionate look that spoke words you never could force your tongue to form. It spoke of comfort. Of being understood like never before. The gratitude in Neil’s face was worth the risk.

“Jazz and hymnals,” offering you another manic grin, he broke the eye contact to glance at the floor. Before you could begin to think of something to say, Neil swallowed hard and spoke again, “Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me and some of my work friends in a pub on Friday?” the only sign that he was nervous was the slight tremble in his voice, followed with close to no time given for your answer, before Neil dived into another winded explanation, “It’s just a hangout, but ever since I dared mention that I met a ballerina, they won’t stop pestering me about you” a nervous chuckle tore from his parted mouth, making you look up and study him closely. That strange shyness seemed to be back, as always out of place on such a beautiful face. It bloomed along the sharp lines of his cheekbones and in how he picked at the chapped skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. Without thinking, you covered his fidgeting hands with yours. A gentle squeeze was all the confirmation you needed to know it was a good call, “So I want to introduce you” his earnest eyes met yours, but before you could even think about the answer, Neil added, “As my friend” he nodded, once and curtly as if convincing himself of what he just said and he fell silent.

The resulting pause was almost hard to absorb. It rang in your ears like an explosion. That was not something you expected to hear. Probably never. Not from Neil. Admittedly, the concept of him talking about you with someone else seemed foreign enough to be nonsense. Not probable.

And yet. You did not have to search your heart to know what the answer was supposed to be.

Aware of the few different ways you could approach it, you chose to fall back on what came naturally. Unlike honesty and vulnerability.

“As long as no one asks me to get on my knees and pray, I’m in” shooting Neil a smirk that felt a tad too much, you waited for his startled gaze to meet yours and winked, dropping your voice a notch to share what was meant for his ears only “And yes, I would get on my knees for other reasons” there was nothing to add there.

And nothing to take back either. No regrets as you stared at Neil, patiently awaiting a response. All the while, your fingers kept the loose hold over his hand, brushing over his knuckles in repetitive moves to soothe the both of you. Even if you would never admit as much.

You watched as the shock in his eyes gave way to begrudged acceptance, disappointed yet not surprised by your constant desire to be a nuisance. It was almost flattering. It made your blood sing with a spark of something you were keen to assign to pure exhilaration. And arousal, too.

“I didn’t ask” after what felt like ages of silence, Neil swallowed hard and made an effort to look away from you, feigning disinterest.

Still, his fingers squeezed yours, betraying the act. Smiling, you squeezed back and disentangled your hand from his as you took note of the approaching station. It was funny (and fucking annoying) how fast time seemed to pass when one wanted to cherish every second.

“But you wanted to,” shrugging upon Neil’s arched eyebrow and an indignant noise of protest that was never going anywhere, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek fleetingly and got up from the seat “Give me time and place, and I’ll be there” smiling in the face of his utter bewilderment, you added, “On my best behaviour” a glance out the window showed you the tiled wall of the Southwark station, and signalled that it was high time to move.

Unfortunately.

“Like right now?” the humour in Neil’s voice was a reason to look back at him, taking note of the delight you could see on his face.

It proved all you already knew. He enjoyed it. All of it. Your insanity included. The understanding was enough to make you grin like a mad woman and nod:

“Yes, exactly,” the carriage drew to a slow stop, and people rushed from their seats as you gripped the railing and met Neil’s gaze for another prolonged moment.

“Perfect,” mirroring your smile, Neil’s mouth twisted into another trademark smirk.

The doors slid open with the PA message talking of gaps and stations. You raised your hand in a brief wave as you let the tide of commuters lead you onto the platform and away from Neil.

Not bad for a first meeting. Right?

***

In hindsight, which was a gift many possessed, but Neil decidedly did not, it was probably expected, that his friends would take every opportune moment to ask about Cupid. Even when taking a short break in the common room. Even when he was halfway through the second espresso of the day (and a third cup of coffee, because whoever needed sanity, anyway?). Even when it was the last thing he expected. Or, perhaps, especially then.

“How’s your ballerina, mate?” the question arrived exactly when Neil had his mouth full of coffee and was too busy staring at his phone to realise he was targeted with another of Ives’ laser stares.

A coughing fit, brought forward by the ever so graceful tendency to choke on drinks whenever cornered, was the only answer Neil was capable of for the first ten seconds. Glaring at Ives with what he hoped was enough murderous intent to make the soldier reflect on his actions, he put the cup on the coffee table in front and glanced at the remaining person in the room. Just to anticipate further assault, should it follow. Naturally.

Wheeler seemed unbothered, sipping her daily green tea and scrolling on the phone. But by now, Neil knew better than to ignore her existence. With one final warning look in her direction, he turned back to Ives. Just in time to see an infuriating grin spread over the man’s face, begging to be wiped with a punch. Ignoring the urge to do just that, Neil offered a reply:

“She’s… good. Great” the words felt flat, not measuring up to everything Cupid was.

But it was also the only admiration Neil was willing to impart to them. Those words were safe, not betraying the exact depths of his affection. He might not be embarrassed about how much he valued Cupid and every little thing about her, but he was certainly not eager to get into another conversation that would lead nowhere. The teasing was awful, as it was already.

“Of course she is,” Ives’ repartee muttered loudly enough to be heard by Neil from the other side of the room was accompanied by another of his annoying smirks.

Was Neil a better, smarter person, he probably would have ignored it. But he was neither better nor smarter. The spark of exasperation has been lit, burning through his chest with increased ferocity. But, sadly, no matter how frustrated Neil felt, he knew that none of it warranted physical violence. Yet, that is.

So, leaning back on the sofa to at least maintain physical comfort, since the mental one was not available, Neil chose to channel the ire into words.

“Your point?” arching his eyebrow, he focused his gaze on the current enemy of the state, awaiting an answer. When nothing followed except for Ives’ nonchalant shrug and Wheeler’s scoff in the background, he continued, “Never mind, I don’t care” he knew he sounded like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, but there was hardly anything to do but push onwards, choosing this moment to drop the news his ‘friends’ (way too generous term) surely would be interested in “I invited her to the pub, by the way,” Neil could feel the grin making its place on his face, erasing any pretence of indifference “Tomorrow” even the reminder alone was enough to spark the excitement.

Alongside it, he could feel the inklings of anxiety bloom to life. If only because he had no idea how Cupid would react to the antics of his friends. Or whether his dear crew was even capable of surviving her. He pushed past the worrying thoughts for the time being by reaching out for the cookies on the table. The sweetness of chocolate chips melted on his tongue, eradicating the fears. For now.

“Why?” this time, Ives’ question was stripped of all remaining nonchalance and certainty.

He was not expecting that. Neil’s mouth twisted into a smirk, revelling in satisfaction. He met the man’s surprised stare with confidence, taking in the uncertainty coming to life underneath that cocksure act his friend liked to maintain. Well, no more.

One glance at Wheeler confirmed the upper hand he has seemingly achieved, making Neil push forward:

“Because maybe once you meet her, you’ll stop being so annoying about this,” the steel edge in his tone was not something he could explain.

Except that he suddenly felt the need to defend the relationship with the woman in question against all forms of offence. Even imaginary.

“No chance, sweetheart” it seemed that Ives did not need as much time as Neil hoped to recover.

The grin was back on his face, accompanied by a wink. Outrageous. Ignoring the sudden urge to hiss like a furious cat, Neil rolled his eyes and dropped his gaze to the table.

Despite her suspicious silence, he could feel Wheeler’s eyes boring holes into his head from her perch in the corner of the room. That was a ticking bomb, awaiting her moment in the chaos to blow up. Or, less dramatically put, waiting for her time to shine and ask a question Neil knew he would not be able to answer. It hung over his head like the guillotine’s blade.

“Yeah, I worried as much,” punctuating the annoyance with a huff, he raised his head with renewed determination. It fueled the words he needed to be spoken, “Still, Cupid is delightful, so you’ll sure like her” it was as much a certainty as it was a plea.

A hopeful thought. A dose of wishful thinking, indeed.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Neil became aware of the many different words to describe her whirling around his brain, thousands of synonyms and endearments scratching at his consciousness. As if desperate to be heard. To make a point. But there was no point to make here. Cupid was a delight. She was also the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was someone he could not have. But that was alright. It really was.

“I’ve no doubts about that” Wheeler’s voice broke the silence, startling Neil. He turned his head sharply to face her, noticing the quiet confidence visible in her sharp green gaze. Still, he appreciated the vote of trust, “Did you kiss?” the question exploded with the force of an atomic bomb.

As he should have expected. The nonchalance in her face told Neil he fucked up, ignored the signs, and now he has been left gaping at his two tormentors with no way out of the interrogation. Well, he could have just got up and left. But Neil was also pretty sure he would be cornered in the lift next. Or on the stairs. Or wherever else it was possible to torture him. Sighing heavily, Neil sagged onto the sofa and covered his face with his hands. A deep breath or two were in order. Perhaps he was overreacting. The dramatic tendencies yet again won with any sense of logic or stoicism. As always.

Fuck it. Heaving another weary sigh, Neil raised his head to stare at the wall as he stammered:

“I- We-” finally, he summoned enough courage to say what needed to be said, “Yeah… we did” with the speed of his thoughts at the minute, it was no surprise that the brain did not get the memo to stop fucking talking. No surprise at all to hear himself add another tidbit of information, almost without his conscious decision to do so, “We also had sex” as soon as the words left this mouth, Neil groaned, barely resisting the urge to get up and flee the scene with burning cheeks and mortification capable of killing him on the spot.

The fact that this sometimes happened – saying things before he was even aware he was doing it – was embarrassing enough. Especially now. The silence in the room upon his ill-timed admission felt thick enough to be cut with a knife. Even a butter knife. Unwilling to see the exact reactions on the faces of his companions, Neil trained his gaze on the floor, feeling the blood rush in his ears, the pulse pounding with worrying speed. He could feel their stares, boring holes in his head and trying to peer inside.

“You- what?” in the few years of knowing Ives, Neil was sure he had never heard the man quite so flabbergasted.

If it were not so surprising he would almost find the reaction offensive. Because why was it so unexpected? He tried not to ponder the answers to that question.

“Last Friday, after the ballet,” throwing the background information with as much indifference as possible, Neil slowly raised his head.

He was met with a wide-eyed stare from Ives’, his bright blue eyes seemingly stuck in a constant state of shock. Yeah, that was that when it came to not being offended. Exasperation rose in his chest, tempting Neil to do something very stupid. But before he could utter another word, Wheeler’s question filled the silence:

“So, you’re together now?” contrasting her trusted partner in crime, the brown-haired woman appeared disturbingly calm.

She put down the cup of tea with a measured move and rested her hip against the cupboards, unnervingly staring at Neil.

There was no need. He seemed unable to keep quiet anyway.

“No, of course not. I’ve told you that she doesn’t do relationships. It’s just sex” this was an answer long prepared, something he could recite from the heart. Why that was, Neil dared not think. Instead, he shrugged, for the umpteenth time within the past ten minutes, wishing to exit the conversation and escape to the North Pole. Or someplace like that. Polar bears were sure much better company to the two idiots he was paired off with presently, “Why are you staring at me like that, Ives?” he could hear the edge in his voice, the sharpness of vowels revealing the depths of annoyance.

The last thing Neil needed was someone sowing doubts about what was unchangeable. Not now when he finally began to feel settled again, for the first time since that fateful Friday night. Now, when he was so close to giving Cupid the answer. Now, when he almost felt like he knew what he wanted to do about it.

Not now.

“Because I think you’ve gone insane” there was no dose of mercy or understanding in Ives’ reply; the man focused his blue-eyed gaze on Neil without respite, clearly driven to say his part. For better or for worse, “You don’t do casual sex. With anyone” before Neil could offer an interjection at what was clearly not true, the man continued. Somehow filled with more passion and conviction, “Christ, I’m pretty sure you turned down at least three girls for that very reason last year. You’re a romantic, Neil” the sign-off proved to be the last straw.

Neil rolled his eyes against the allegation and stood up, fire blazing in his gaze. For whatever reason, he did not know. Except that something in the impertinent tirade of his friend irked him beyond compare.

Yes, maybe what Ives said was true. Maybe he turned down offers for casual sex before. But that did not mean a thing. Because all those other women were not her. They were not worth changing his ideals for what could also prove to be an unsatisfactory result. Only she seemed worth the risk.

And yes, Neil was aware of how pathetic that sounded. He shook his head against the ridiculous thoughts and paced the room before finding apt words to defend his choices. Not that he had to defend anything, of course. Still-

“No, I’m not” if that was a stretch, no one had to be any wiser. Just in case, however, Neil trained his gaze on the floor instead of looking at his companions, “Just because I’ve never done it before doesn’t mean I can’t now” there, that sounded perfectly composed and reasonable “It’s fine. I like her, and we’ve got a good thing going” finishing the speech with the only sentiment he was moderately sure of, Neil risked a glance at his friends.

Ives still looked infuriatingly impassioned, as if barely holding himself back from making more incorrect assumptions, but it was Wheeler’s expression that made Neil falter. His restless eyes finally found purchase for more than a second at a time. If only so he could understand what that introspective look in her eyes meant. And what potential trouble could it bring.

“If you say so,” Ives’ dejected reply almost went unnoticed, falling under the radar as the man sighed heavily, as it was him who was being violently verbally attacked.

The audacity was something else.

“We’re just worried about you. We’d rather avoid a repeat of the last time someone broke your heart” Wheeler’s voice was laced with concern as she breached the space and placed her hand on Neil’s shoulder with a stoic yet meaningful look in her eyes.

The tight smile completed the picture as she squeezed his shoulder and left as quickly as she had approached him. Still, the gesture lingered, making Neil falter. Because he knew what Wheeler meant. He knew it too well. Sometimes during those darkest moments, he could still remember how it felt. The searing pain in his chest and the inescapable knowledge that he was not enough. That he never would be. That the heartbreak would follow him wherever he went because there was no universe in which Neil was destined for a happily ever after.

Sometimes, it was easy to believe that, too.

Most of the time, however, he ignored those thoughts. Like now, when that first sting of tears at the back of his eyelids spelt trouble and unwanted attention. When he could feel the tightness in his throat threaten to trigger something no one wanted to see in public. Not now. Not ever.

Instead, Neil plastered on another obnoxious grin. The blinding strength of it was almost enough to get rid of the residual feelings.

“Well, worry not! It won’t happen” to reinforce the intended effects, Neil notched up the cockiness in his smirk and flopped back onto the sofa with all the air of someone certain they were making correct decisions.

Or, at least, that was the hope. That no one would see past his act despite the edges of the mask slipping with every second.

Taking a fortifying breath, Neil swallowed hard and settled against the cushions, hoping the softness would anchor him. A glance at the watch confirmed his hopes – not much time was left till he had somewhere to be. A handy excuse to leave faintly appeared on the horizon, teasing him with potential and salvation. Only, it still had to wait…

As soon as the faint hope glimmered, making Neil feel a tiny bit better about his current situation, Ives broke the silence. The only way he knew how:

“So… how was the sex?” Neil’s head swivelled in the direction of the man at breakneck speed, a blush already blooming on his cheeks.

It was mortifying how little it took to reduce him to a blushing fool these days. How one mention of Cupid, or the moment they shared, was enough to render him incapable of acting like a grown-up. How there was nothing to do about it but groan out loud and cover his face with his hands, hoping to escape the scrutiny. While knowing it was too late, anyway.

Before he could find an apt response (or any words at all, in fact), Wheeler interrupted the silence with her frustrated sigh, annoyance tinting the words:

“Ives, for fuck’s sake…” even without looking at her friend, Neil knew she was rolling her eyes, equally fed up with Ives’ antics.

Not for the first time, he felt gratitude for her existence and the constant intolerance of bullshit. Neil hoped to convey as much through a quick smile, shot in her direction sometime between staring at the floor and pondering the best course of action. She smiled back, briefly dropping the disinterested frown that seemed at home on her face whenever friendship dramatics unfolded. Which was more often than Neil would like to admit.

Apparently, a penchant for drama was a contagious trait. Sadly.

“What? I gotta ask the important questions” the lack of remorse on Ives’ face told Neil all he needed to know about the situation.

There was either option a – leaving the room as he stood, without a further word or a gesture, aware that he would be cornered by his dear friend shortly. There was also option b – answering the question in the vaguest way possible and hopefully buying himself time and necessary peace.

Was it really a choice? Sighing heavily, Neil strengthened his back and met the awaiting blue gaze with what he hoped to be confidence.

“Very good. Might I say euphorically good,” he could feel the smirk make home on his face as memories followed the words, offering a gratifying reel of moments he was sure he could never forget. It never failed to make him grin like an idiot and consider doing something reckless like calling Cupid and asking her out. As a friend, that is. A friend you wanted to have sex with again. Instead, he allowed himself to soften the voice and add, “She’s… incredible” it was a severe understatement, but then the present company was not worth hearing peans he could bestow upon her.

Those words were meant for her ears only. And yes, he knew how it sounded. How it pointed towards things Neil was not admitting, not even to himself. But that, too, was best ignored. Forever.

Before Neil could find the necessary words to follow the admission and, hopefully, exit the conversation altogether, the door creaked. All three pairs of eyes snapped towards it, displaying different stages of shock and bewilderment.

Neil watched as The Protagonist stepped inside, the dynamic of his movements stopping on the threshold as the man took in the scene presented before him. Cocking an eyebrow in a silent question, the older man closed the door behind his back and regarded them coolly.

“Uh oh,” the phrase, offered casually, without a dose of interest or intrigue, was accompanied by another taxing look.

Worryingly, it was focused on Neil only. The dark eyes of his best friend (and boss) scanned him from head to toe, undoubtedly clocking everything he hoped to conceal. Stifling the sudden urge to drown himself in the cup of lukewarm coffee someone abandoned on the table hours before, Neil sagged on the sofa. That was not going to be fun.

“Uh oh, indeed” even without looking at him, Neil could tell Ives was smirking.

Feeling the three pairs of eyes focus on him again, he groaned.

He was completely and utterly fucked, it seemed.

***

Usually, Friday evenings in the pub were not associated with anxious thoughts or fidgeting hands, interchangeably tugging and relaxing the chain clasped around your neck. But that was not a usual Friday night, and no amount of mental coaching could change that fact or convince you to stop worrying. No, the nerves seemed ingrained in the fabric of your soul as you exited the Leicester Square station and rushed through the streets of Chinatown, rapidly filling with people. You swallowed past the overwhelming onslaught of worries and pushed onwards, only briefly stopping underneath the red lanterns to double-check the location and whether you were still on the course.

When Neil sent you the address earlier that day, you admitted that the choice of locale was greatly appreciated. That was your hunting ground so to speak. The streets, where you felt most at home, with the bright lights proceeding your steps and the bustle of the city filling your heart. But even the comfort of the familiar environment did not eradicate the fears. The millions of what-ifs swirling around in your head all pointing out that one crucial fact – there was no guarantee that his friends would like you. None at all.

And the alternative was too terrifying to consider. Admittedly, this was not a place you visited often. Not a predicament you knew too well. Because, usually, you could not care less. Did not give a flying fuck about whether someone liked you or even accepted you because if they did not – well, their loss. But those life rules did not seem applicable this time. Not when the stakes suddenly seemed higher than gaining a stranger’s sympathy. Even though you could hardly explain what the alternatives were and why they scared you quite so much.

Glancing up from the phone screen, you double-checked the pub name with the address typed into the search bar and closed the app. Pocketing the device, you crossed the street and stopped just before the doorway. The bar was half-full, the music not quite booming yet filling the interior with cosiness and warmth that beckoned you inside, sparking the courage that began to flicker in your heart. As if sensing your moment of indecision, your phone buzzed. A single text from Neil appeared on the screen:

/✝️, 8:03 pm/ I’m here if you’re early.

Despite the nerves, you grinned. A ridiculous giggle escaped your throat as you pushed the door and entered the pub. That was a sign if you ever saw one. The contrasting warmth seeped into your bones as you unzipped the jacket and manoeuvred around the tables to the room in the back. This part of the bar was empty, save for a larger table in the corner. As soon as you entered the space, Neil raised his head and met your gaze with a bright smile. It was impossible not to grin back, taking in the warm light reflecting in his golden hair and the undone top buttons of his navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even now, after everything, the sight never failed to make your pulse quicken, revealing the truth you could not ignore. That you wanted him. Still.

Probably more so now that you knew what it was like to have him.

That reminder alone was a reason to push all thoughts to the back of your mind and close the remaining gap in three steps. Shooting him an overly confident grin as a greeting, you drew back the chair opposite Neil’s and took off your jacket, draping the covering over the backrest and sitting down without as much as a word. If Neil noticed the unusual silence, he did not show it, instead following your every move with curiosity in his eyes. Once you were settled and allowed yourself to rest your gaze on him, Neil’s smile softened into something fragile. Something kinder than you were used to. You basked in the warmth of his expression as he broke the silence:

“I’m glad you came” that same affection tinted the simple sentiment, quieting the nerves in your head, even if only for a second.

For whatever reason, the fears seemed worth it if that was the reaction you earned by going through the pains of what was coming. It was shining in the blue of his eyes, luring you in like a spell. Without thinking about it, you darted a hand forward and quickly patted his hands, folded atop the table. The corner of his mouth twitched, clearly noticing your gesture. It was a nice feeling to be seen like that, appreciated for every tiny thing you did or said.

“Well, I promised, didn’t I?” the awkwardness slipped out alongside a weak chuckle you attempted, hoping to balance out the sudden pull towards seriousness in this conversation. You weren’t supposed to be serious, “When are-” the question, the only one you could think of suddenly, got cut short by Neil’s answer.

“In about ten minutes. They might be late, though” he glanced at the watch, almost in an afterthought.

Unashamedly, you let out a long sigh, feeling weariness fade for a short while. Ten minutes seemed like an apt time to settle. Or at least enjoy what you have right here and now. What you feared to lose more than you could admit.

Where was courage when one needed it desperately?

“Cool…” your knuckles rapped against the table, hoping to find the bravery in the rhythmless sound, but to no avail. You looked up, instantly caught in Neil’s blue gaze, staring back at you intently. As always. As if there was anything of interest that he could find only on your face, “Can I ask you something?�� there was no way of getting rid of the tremors in your voice.

“Always,” Neil nodded, generous enough to spare you the suspense.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your head once more, plunging into the deep end:

“Are we still going to be friends if they hate me?” with no right way for a question like this to come out, you still cringed, wincing as soon as the words left your mouth.

Clingy. Pathetic. So unlike what you thought you knew about yourself. And yet. Because that was the crux of the issue. This deeply rooted fear that Neil’s presence in your life could disappear suddenly without a warning or a reason. A fear you did not understand or experienced before. It was terrifying.

Before your brain could unleash the ramblings, erasing any evidence of the question ever having been asked, you felt Neil’s hand gently cover yours. Despite knowing better, you looked up in time to see another soft smile grace his beautiful features. It mellowed the sharpness of the angles and eased the pain of looking at him.

A pain you were gladly braving every day if it meant you could keep on staring at him. With no desire to understand what that said about you.

“Obviously,” the lack of hesitation on Neil’s part bolstered the faint hope in your soul. It only got stronger as you saw him search your gaze with intent before Neil squeezed your hands and added, “Although I can assure you that they won’t hate you” the lack of judgement in his eyes seemed almost out of place.

A stupid question like that was bound to be judged and ridiculed. Surely. Except Neil did not seem to think so. The realisation made you feel lightheaded. It made no sense in the world order you knew.

You shook your head against the confusion and flipped the hand lying on the table so you could entangle your fingers with his. The softness of his palm moulded to yours as you arched an eyebrow, your face still a picture-perfect of calm:

“How can you be so sure, sunshine?” it was not in your nature to accept reassurance without trying to undermine it. You could tell Neil knew as much. It was there in the utter lack of surprise in his gaze as you prodded, his hand a comforting weight in yours. It helped you take a deep breath and confess what usually remained unsaid, “I know I’m… a lot” your eyes fluttered shut upon the unprecedented display of honesty.

You knew it was true, a fact many thought and no one admitted out loud. Except maybe when they stopped talking to you, leaving you behind without an explanation or an apology. That is when you easily concluded that it has happened again. You were too much. Too much to handle without being enough. Took up too much space without having anything substantial to say or do with it. Asked for too much despite not being worth even an ounce of it. Yeah, that.

It was always like that. So why would it be different this time?

Although you could feel Neil’s piercing gaze on your face, you did not dare look up. Instead, you tightened the hold over his hand and let your thumb brush his skin. The repetitiveness of the caress anchored you in the present. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to contemplate the reality, you marvelled at how easy it was to be like this with him. How you could touch Neil so effortlessly, without worrying about how it would be interpreted or what he could ask for in return.

“You contain multitudes. In the best way,” the affection in his voice made you push against the ridiculous thoughts and look up, even if only to see that same softness reflected in his eyes, “And I’m sure because I can’t imagine meeting you and not being absolutely enchanted, Cupid” squeezing your hand again, he raised your joined palms to lay a kiss on your knuckles.

By now, the move should have been something you were used to. But it wasn’t. It still made you blush, hiding the effects by dropping his gaze and focusing on the table. The warmth his words sparked in your chest simmered with a pleasant heat, almost eradicating every other thought and feeling. Until all that remained was Neil and his steadfast fondness, focused on you. For whatever reason.

It did not take your brain too long to realise the dangers of that line of reasoning, jumping into deflection before any other wayward thought could appear. Raising your head in time for Neil to see a performative eye roll, you replied:

“Christ, you’re really bad for my ego” it was not a lie, and you knew Neil could tell as much from how his mouth twitched.

Still, your hand stayed in his hold, too used to the contact to think about letting go. At least for a little longer.

“Ditto, babe” Neil’s smile widened into a bright grin as he shot you a wink, dropping the new nickname without hesitation.

Almost as if he hoped you would not notice. Wishful thinking and all. The discovery of his slip-up was enough to awaken you, giving your brain something to grasp. A distraction. A way to come back to who you were supposed to be.

Your eyes flashed, a familiar flicker of confidence and control making it easy to hold his gaze. To notice the uncertainty within the blue depths, spurring you on. Before Neil could even think about taking it back, you leaned in, invading his space and getting a whiff of his perfume. Like an addict getting a hit of their drug of choice. Stopping close enough to kiss him if you chose to, you let your nose brush against his in a light caress and whispered a taunting question:

“Ooh, it’s babe now, is it?” the thrill of being this close to him never got old.

It was strengthened by the awed look in his eyes, confirming the suspicions that you finally had the upper hand. Neil looked stunned, blinking rapidly against your proximity and the bold attack you dared execute. You stared as he came to, the hand holding yours twitched and Neil dropped his gaze, overcame with strange bashfulness.  

“If you want it to be,” the murmured reply was coloured with sincerity.

Both an admission and a question, opening the floor for your next move. Swallowing past the pause, you opened your mouth to answer before a loud wolf whistle cut through the tension, making you spring back as if burned. Neil dropped your hand, his gaze instantly switching to the doorway. It did not take a genius to figure out that your time has just run out, and the company has arrived.

Fixing a curious smile onto your face, you turned in the chair, your eyes instantly drawn by the arriving group. The reason for your shocking awakening - a tall, muscled man with a buzzcut and a thick beard was the first to enter. His startling blue eyes met yours as his lips twisted into a smug smirk. He glanced at Neil, some silent understanding passing through his gaze before he asked:

“Are we interrupting something?” the unmistakable Cockney accent in his voice made you grin.

The cheekiness of this stranger was something you felt almost at home with. It was something you knew, the familiarity of it quietening the rapid heartbeat in your chest. Somewhat reluctantly, you shifted your eyes to fall on the second person to enter the room. The short woman, her hair twisted into a tight bun (not unlike what you often sported on stage), met your curious stare with one of her own. The last to enter was a tall, Black man. His presence already emitted confidence and charisma that you could not understand. As soon as his eyes met yours, the man smiled – a light, reassuring expression that transformed his face into something kind and open. With a sigh, you twisted back in the chair and closed your eyes briefly.

They did not seem scary… At least not terribly so.

“Not at all,” you only half registered Neil’s hurried response, noticing him rise from the table and gesture towards you with all the awkwardness of someone unable to play it cool. Despite yourself, you smiled at the realisation, “So, this is-” he never got to introduce you, for the sentence got cut short with another boisterous interruption.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the bearded man approached the table, his wide grin unfading in the face of your bewilderment.

The remaining duo joined him on either side, all three pairs of eyes focused on you without a dose of apprehension. While the scrutiny was something you expected (and were partially used to), it still made you falter. Tightening your shaky hands into fists at your sides, you rose from the chair and faced them with a matching bright grin. By now, the act was almost too easy to take on - no matter the circumstances.

“It is I, indeed” completing the admission with a theatrical courtesy, you extended your palm towards the woman with what seemed like a safe greeting, “Nice to meet you” she met your handshake without hesitation.

The first handshake was followed by a round of introductions and greetings, easing that early discomfort of not knowing people’s names. Through the few minutes, Neil stayed quiet, observing you with an intensity you were slowly getting used to. You did not understand it, but it was almost comforting in its constant presence.  Only once you were acquainted, you sat back in the chair. Conscious of the new company, you shifted in the seat and folded your hands atop the table, resisting the urge to meet Neil’s gaze as it bore holes into your head from over the tabletop. Before you could even think of anything to say, Ives broke the silence with what you came to understand as his modus operandi:

“Mate, I must say-” the cheekiness permeated every syllable as the man stared between you and Neil with a wide grin.

Curiosity sparked in your chest as you watched the interaction. The blind panic in Neil’s eyes completed the picture as he leapt from the chair and grabbed the sleeve of Ives’ jacket to pull him up.

“It’s best if you don’t,” the warning in his voice was something new.

Something fascinating, too. Something that you had a feeling you would be repeating in the quiet of your mind later. Later, when you were alone.

Now however, you stared as Neil completed the silent exchange with Ives and informed you all that it was time to get drinks. You got as far as telling him the order of choice for the night before the uncertainty caught up again. With Neil and Ives gone from the table, only two pairs of eyes were trained on you. A small mercy, indeed.

Ignoring the urge to flee the scene, you tried to settle in the seat and raised your gaze to meet the dark stare of the man who introduced himself as John. For some reason, his serious countenance inspired trust, making it a little easier to breathe out. The woman, Wheeler, was more intimidating, although you could not explain why if asked. It was not even that she seemed mean or judgemental, but rather that it was difficult to get a reading on her that you feared what she could be thinking.

Before you had a chance to spiral in that direction, yet again failing under the scrutiny of near strangers, John broke the silence with a question:

“So, how did you meet again?” the curiosity was undeniable in his voice, his eyes watchfully trained on yours.

Almost as if it was a test. Luckily, you knew the answers this time.

“On the tube. Neil was gallant enough to help when I dropped half the contents of my handbag on the floor” a fond smile appeared uninvited on your face, forcing you to drop his gaze and stare at the table instead. That did not go unnoticed. You could still feel their interest, like a constant weight upon your shoulders. It would take much more than this to shake it off, “I wasn’t leaving him alone after that” shrugging, you risked a tentative smile and a glance at your companions.

Judgement was still missing from the picture. Instead, the inquisitive light in Wheeler’s eyes turned into something sharper. For a split second, you felt perceived as if she could see through the bullshit smiles and nonchalant shrugs that made up your protective armour. As if she could peer inside the parts of your mind you did not acknowledge for fear of what you would find there.

Before you could let the simmering panic reap its fruits, John replied:

“And a good thing, too, because he shouldn’t be left unsupervised for too long” the humour in his voice acted like a needed respite, pulling you back from the blooming spiral and into the present.

Despite yourself, you grinned. A startled chuckle escaped your lips, confirming what you knew to be true. That, despite the doubts and perhaps an unconventional run of your friendship, you knew Neil. You understood him.

Enough to know that he should never be left to his own devices for too long.

“I’ve noticed,” a secretive smile shared between the three of you felt almost like an inside joke.

The feeling was strengthened when you heard Neil and Ives return from the bar, their banter audible even from beyond the doorway. You waited until the duo settled at the table again, the ordered drink placed in front of you with a smile, before adding, “Now I’m also forcing ballet education onto him,” winking at Neil to both tease him and draw him back to the conversation, you took a fortifying sip of the alcohol.

Not that liquid courage was needed. Of course.

“Which I don’t mind at all” Neil’s responding grin was worth any possible pain. Its warmth filled you from the inside with a mild bloom of affection, making it that much easier to let go of the remaining fears, “I’ll have to drag you with me someday. You’ll see how amazing she is,” directing the sentence at his friends, Neil took a sip of the pint and stared back as if to challenge your wordless wonder.

Even now, the constant praise was difficult to absorb. How could anyone be this nice and not expect anything in return? You did not know.

“There’ll be no dragging necessary. I’d go willingly” despite the apprehension, the first sentence Wheeler spoke to you was filled with enough friendliness you instantly felt bad for doubting her nature. She offered you a sure smile, the sparks of interest clear in her green gaze, “How long have you been dancing?”

Now that was a question you knew the answer to. Without daring to doubt the sincerity of their investment in your story, you dove into the tale. It twisted through the prodding and the questions, reminding you how much you relished being the object of genuine interest. How nice it was to share stories and have others listen instead of ignoring you or cutting short that which you dared feel passionate about.

Only once your tale found its conclusion in the current day and age, daring to share the hopes for the future, did the nerves resurface. You drowned them in another sip of the drink and chose to ask the question that never strayed too far from your mind these days:

“And you guys? What do you do for work?” admittedly, it was not the smoothest move on your part.

The eagerness shone through each word as you rested your chin on your hand and ignored Neil’s gaze. Perhaps tonight was the lucky one…

“We- You haven’t told her?” as soon as the hope began to build, making you lean forward in anticipation, Ives clearly remembered his surroundings, silencing his own reply with a question directed at Neil.

One glance at the man in question showed you the depths of panic, making you step in. Just in case.

“He hasn’t,” hoping the reassurance in your voice would be enough for them to believe you, you added, tone dropping to that teasing timbre Neil knew well enough, “Which has led to some rather… fascinating conversations” whether mentioning the many inside jokes was a good idea, you did not know.

But it was already done. The reveal did what you needed it to as you watched with interest the many emotions passing through their faces. Brief bewilderment was there, alongside confusion and boundless curiosity. But, perhaps most importantly of all, you could see respect. Hidden behind layers of thoughts and questions, but it was there. You earned it.

And through no other means than being yourself. Little victories have never felt more genuine.

“Such as?” Ives was the first to speak, prodding and teasing, his gaze filled with that familiar cheeky gleam, “Don’t leave us hanging, sweetheart” the nickname rolled off his tongue with ease, which seemed surprising to everyone but the man himself.

You did not mind. Stealing another glance at Neil, if only to check whether he still seemed somewhat alright with the conversation (barely), you allowed your mouth to twist into a telling grin:

“Wouldn’t dream of it” by now, Neil must have known what that smile meant.

The expectation was confirmed by his long-suffering sigh, interjected with a curse and a groan, sounding almost like a plea for heavenly intervention.

That is, if God, the Holy Spirit, or anyone else fancied being cursed while asked for help.

“Jesus fucking-” cutting himself short with another sigh, Neil covered his face with his hands, almost as if unwilling to take part in what would follow.

Still, you could see the remains of a fond smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. That discovery was enough to get rid of any traces of uncertainty. You leaned over the table and dropped your voice to a conspiratory whisper:

“My personal favourite is that Neil is a priest. He’s got the charisma, and I’m pretty sure those dashing looks would help to convert non-believers” admittedly, you were proud of delivering the line with a straight face.

Even more so when, after approximately five seconds, you had the desired reaction of three people dissolving into different stages of laughter at your whim. Despite yourself, you met Neil’s gaze, only to find him beaming with traces of good-natured annoyance in the gleam in his eyes. Wordlessly, you arched an eyebrow, seeking approval. Always eager to be praised for something you felt you deserved. His smile only widened as Neil sneaked a hand beneath the table and briefly squeezed your knee.

That just about did it when it came to praise.

Enough so that when a reply came from your unexpected audience, you were caught unaware by the tone and the knowing smirk present on Ives’ face as he asked:

“Speaking from experience?” startled, you looked up in time to see his confident grin, pointing towards a thought you had not entertained before.

They knew. At some point between the previous Friday night and today, Neil told them what had happened. He has perhaps shared it all, and now you were not only regarded as a strange woman he has befriended on the London Underground but also as someone he had sex with. A lover, if you dared label things. Although obvious a realisation, it was still somewhat unexpected, making your hands twitch as you slipped back on the mask of utter nonchalance. There was no point in pretending now.

“Absolutely” without batting an eyelid, you met Ives’ relentless smirk with an innocent smile of your own, choosing to take back control of the conversations as much as it was possible,  “So, whatever parish you belong to, I might want an invitation” concluding the story with a telling wink, you picked up the glass and took a long sip, relishing in the slight burn of alcohol down your throat.

The sensation was enough to distract you from the strange thoughts, inspiring you to give in to the constant pull and meet Neil’s gaze over the table. He was already staring back, his mouth quirked into a soft smile. It was impossible to discern what it meant.

“We’ll come back to this conversation. If that’s okay,” John’s serious voice broke you out of the daydream, making you look up at him with surprise clear on your face.

That same air of authority you noticed the first time you had laid your eyes upon him was even more visible now that you got to talk. Without being able to explain it, you felt like he was the person most in charge out of the whole quartet. The one calling the shots. If anything, the comment enforced the idea, making you drop the playfulness for a split second to offer him a nod:

“Perfectly,” if only to ensure you had not accidentally ended up on the shit list for being too nosy, you added, “Mind you, I’m not holding a grudge. It’s just curiosity,” and it was, just that. The pure desire to know all there was to know about Neil. To piece apart his entire being and analyse it as one does when having encountered something so fascinating they could not walk past it. Yeah, just that. Shaking your head to erase unwanted thoughts, you chose to fall back on what was pleasantly familiar – letting your mouth do the talking without consulting the head on whether it was wise, “Although now that I’ve met you all, I think that perhaps it’s my other guess that makes more sense” letting the sentence trail off to a meaningful pause was an easy fate.

It was something you knew how to do. Entertain. Entrance. Fascinate. All to draw that fleeting attention, which would not solve anything except making you believe you were worth someone’s time. For a short while.

It worked this time, as always. All four pairs of eyes trained on you with curiosity. Ives was the first to break the silence, giving you what you had been waiting for:

“Which is?” arching an eyebrow, he leaned over the table, mirroring your position.

A flash of exhilaration passed through your soul, alighting that which usually laid dormant. Without meaning to, you met Neil’s gaze again, copying the cheeky smile before offering an answer:

“That you’re all in MI6” if not for the distraction in the form of his blue eyes, you were sure you would have clocked in the reactions, or rather the alarming lack of them, sooner. You blinked against the intoxicating pull of him, barely registering the silence from your companions, and found the bravery to add that which was meant for Neil only, “I mean, you could definitely pull off James Bond,” acutely aware of the audience, you tightened your hands into fists in your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out, signing off the statement with a wink.

That, too, hit the mark. You watched with delight as Neil blushed, the pink hue blooming on his cheekbones as he dropped your gaze and downed the rest of his beer. A gleeful chuckle was unavoidable as you finally gathered enough coherence to glance at the remaining companions. The mix of joy, consternation and pensiveness was something to behold, arresting your attention and sparking interest. What could it possibly mean? Questions began multiplying in your brain as you stared, particularly drawn to the exact expression on John’s face. It resembled quiet resolve as if he had just made up his mind about something and would not be persuaded to change it no matter the circumstances.

You had a feeling that you were not an exception to that rule.

“Cupid-” whatever Neil aimed to say got interrupted before you could focus your eyes back on him.

Still, the nickname resounded at the table with an extra impact, perhaps because it was the first time he had used it with the current company present. Despite wishing to remain blind to little details, you took note of the flash of interest in Wheeler’s eyes as her eyes flitted between the two of you. Thinking. You itched to ask what about but also feared the answer. Before you could even gather your thoughts enough to understand the intricacies of the situation, John got up from the chair, pulling Neil alongside him with a tight grip on his shoulder.

“C’mon. Let’s get second round” his tone left no room for discussion as he directed a pointed look at Ives and started for the bar without another word.

You stared as the two men scrambled after him, clearly taken aback by the sudden command. Now, curiosity was an understatement. It bloomed in your chest as you stared at Wheeler, silently begging for answers before you found any words to express an ounce of the confusion:

“What did just-” whatever question you had aimed to ask, you never got the chance as she interrupted you smoothly with a sleight of hand.

“Pay them no mind” that was not a suggestion, either. The order was visible in the focused gaze Wheeler placed on you, its weight quickly becoming bothersome, making you shift in the seat. Soon, you knew it was for a good reason, “Neil really likes you,” there was no question in the statement.

No chance for you to deny the claim. It wasn’t a false claim, either. You knew as much without needing to think about it. He liked you. It was there in every fond look, every tender touch, every affectionate word. And you knew that it was something you were guilty of as well. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

Ignoring the ever-present desire to run away, you strengthened your spine and met her searching gaze with honesty on your face:

“I know. I like him too. Never expected to meet a best friend on the Jubilee line, but well…” shrugging to shake off the remaining worries at your sincerity, you offered her a careful smile.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you understood their importance. You had never admitted it out loud. That this was a first. The first time you voiced what was long established in your mind and heart. What happened before you were aware. Before you could stop it. Was that another mistake? You did not dare answer that question.

Instead, you dropped Wheeler’s gaze and trained your eyes on the table, fingers idly tracing the grains in the dark wood. You knew the conversation was not over now that she had you alone and clearly unable to keep quiet. You did not have to wait long for another hit.

“He told us about what happened after the ballet last week” the judgment was still missing from the equation, no matter how hard you looked for it.

With your suspicions confirmed, there was no point in trying to pretend. No point in acting as if what she believed was untrue. That, too, was a fact. An undeniable truth, memorable and unforgettable.

After a beat, you braved the intensity of her gaze, feeling something else underneath the simple observation. Wheeler hardly seemed like a person to say things without there being a point to them. This time was not any different. The green of her eyes told you she was curious, eager to learn your side of things, but at the same time, she seemed almost wary. Concerned in ways that did not make much sense except for maybe…

“And you’re against it?” the question burst out from your lips before you knew you had formulated it. There was an edge to it that you immediately regretted but did not take back just yet. Not before adding essential information that could sway her. Why it mattered, you did not know, “I must assure you that Neil is in control. I offered to keep this strictly platonic. He’s yet to give me an answer,” the words rushed out with barely a pause in between as if you were on borrowed time.

Perhaps you did not want the company to return before you could wrap up this conversation. Perhaps it felt like if you do as much as hesitate in your answers, you will never get the words out again. And that would not do.

Wheeler only finished her drink in the face of your frenzied confession and took another moment to stare at you calmly before answering:

“I’m not against it, just worried. Neil is a genius, but he’s also a fool. And a romantic, at that,” the tired resignation in her tone provoked a careful smile to appear on your face despite the blooming worry springing alongside it.

It was something you feared, albeit without ever entertaining the thought consciously. His friends had every right to be worried. In fact, you were happy to see someone else care about Neil the way he deserved to be cared for. Intensely. But it was another thing to be seen as a potential threat towards his happiness. Someone to be cautious of. Someone who could hurt Neil. Someone you desperately wanted never to become.

“The worst combo,” ignoring the spiral which had just begun to take root in your mind, you quipped.

The force of the jest got lost somewhere between your head and mouth, lining the words with nerves and uncertainty. It still got a reaction you hoped to achieve as Wheeler’s face broke into a tentative smile.

“Isn’t it just?” her eyes met yours with hints of good-natured delight in the green irises, almost making you feel better about what followed. As soon as she sobered up, you could feel your chest seize painfully, the fear sinking its cold fingers into the fabric of your soul, “The point is that I hope you don’t hurt him. No matter what ends up happening between you” the intent was clear in her gaze.

As was the message. Should you hurt Neil, there would be consequences. Simple. Infinitely more effective than an outright threat.

Somehow, you did not need to search your soul to understand the fear beginning to shape there. You were not scared of what Wheeler or the other would do to you if you hurt Neil. No, it was something much more terrifying. It was the pure horror of knowing that, realistically, you could break his heart. Even if that were the last thing you would want to do. Even if you would never choose to do so. The ability was there. And that was enough.

Swallowing past the desire to flee, you forced yourself to meet her gaze and offer an answer as close to the truth as you could manage. As close as you hoped to be.

“I’ll do my best” you could tell your mouth trembled as you tried to form it into a reassuring smile, but still, you wished for it to be enough.

Because there was nothing better that you could offer. You stared as Wheeler processed your reply, her watchful gaze peering right into the fabric of your soul. It felt like an eternity before she nodded once, ending the conversation with decisiveness. A tired sigh escaped your throat as you sunk lower in the chair. You knew that it would haunt you for days to come.

In the background, you could hear the approaching voices of the rest of your party. The noise sobered you, helping to push against the melancholy and paste on a mischievous smirk. With the mask back in place, you knew you could survive the rest of the evening. Somehow.

***

By the time you had left the pub, the warmth of Neil’s hand on the small of your back guiding you outside, it was late, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. That pleasant tiredness that often came from spending too much time with people, forced to be someone you were never sure you understood, burned through your muscles, leaving you slightly dizzy. But that might have also been the alcohol. Or Neil’s loose handhold, dragging you towards the underground station.

You were not quite sure when it had been decided that you would come back together, only that the conversation involved something with Jubilee Line name-drop and Ives’ boisterous laughter. And a knowing gleam in his eyes that you did not enjoy. Still, as Neil patiently led you down the streets of Soho and towards Leicester Square, you did not mind the result. It gave you more time with him. More time to talk and less time to think about what the eventful evening brought up. About the fears festering in your heart.

Still, the comfortable silence was broken only once you were seated in the carriage, Neil’s thigh pressed against yours on the narrow plastic seats. His hands folded in his lap, tempting you with a comforting touch just a move away. If you dared be bold.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Neil’s question acted like the needed wake-up, pulling from the depths of confusing thoughts and confounding feelings.

It was harmless, instantly drawing your smile from its hiding place. One glance at Neil told you that was the intent, with the affectionate look in his eyes, studying your face. Sometimes, you wondered whether there would ever come a time when you were brave enough to ask what he was thinking about when he stared at you like that. What it meant, if anything at all. Today, you could only return his look and offer a grin as a prologue to your reply:

“They’re insane people” your smile widened as you watched Neil bark out a startled laugh. It was a beautiful sound, making you bask in the glow of those unexpected joys. It was that spark of happiness that made you add, “Just like you,” leaning into his personal space, you gave his shoulder a nudge, this once hoping that the fondness could be seen in your eyes.

You wanted him to notice, to know that the teasing came from no other place but that of affection. That, as you confessed to Wheeler, Neil was important. Probably your best friend. An honourable mantle not many could admit to having possessed. In the entire history of your life.

Neil’s gaze softened as he returned the playful nudge and bumped his nose into yours, drawing a startled gasp from your throat. Proximity tended to do that to you.

“I’d say something about pots and kettles, but-” the warmth in his voice made you wake up from the strange thoughts as you grinned, rolling your eyes at the jest barely disguised behind the good-natured tease.

The sentiment still filled your heart with a contented type of joy, casting the previous anxieties back to the shadows where they lurked. For now, they were not needed. Now, all that mattered was turning your body fully towards Neil and blocking everything except for his beautiful smile and striking blue eyes.

“I own my insanity, thank you very much” feigning nonchalance, you shot him an unimpressed smile before dropping the pretence to offer sincerity. As he deserved, “I like them. They seem fun to be around, and I’d love to meet them again” you met his serious gaze with a wavering smile, feeling it shake beneath the uncertainty that loitered at the edges of your consciousness. Despite the wishes to do so, you did not seem capable of shaking off the anxiety tonight. The addition needed to be said, if only for your sanity, “That is if they don’t hate me” what started loud and confident was finished in a murmur, half-whispered at the dirty carriage floor.

Sudden losses of confidence were something you were not used to, yet getting more accustomed to by the day. At some point, unknowingly to you, along with the trust in the realness of whatever you and Neil had, that old, blind self-assurance dwindled. It was still there but wounded and unable to return to what it was. And you had no idea why that could be except for the terrifying thought that the simple reality of being perceived was enough to tear at your foundations.

You felt Neil’s careful touch, his fingers tipping up your chin, so you had no choice but to meet his reassuring gaze. The pads of his fingers lightly brushed the skin of your neck, kindling the fire that always burned underneath your skin in his presence. You barely resisted the urge to close your eyes and lean into the feeling, forgetting about the conversation and everything else.

“No chance, sweetheart” perhaps the confidence you had been missing could be found in Neil’s smile, shining at you like a beacon of benediction. Or at least it felt like sometimes, especially in the haziness of the late hours and fluorescent lights. Now, as if sensing your uncertainty, Neil covered your hands with his and squeezed them reassuringly, “I’m yet to get professional feedback, but I believe they liked you very much” risking a peek, you met his gaze only to find nothing but affection there, its intensity making you feel lightheaded. No matter the amount of practice, you did not seem capable of getting used to it. Not at all, “Not as much as me, though” when the conclusion to his speech finally arrived, you needed another long moment to process it.

Another beat still to find an opportunity within it. It presented a whole myriad, an easy way out of the conversation that would no longer feel so awfully revealing. A chance for you to reclaim the bravado that so often served as a shield. A protective veil to hide behind until you would be brave enough to face the truth. You were not going to let it pass you by.

Without wasting another second, you presented Neil with a familiar grin as his hand dropped from your chin. You instantly mourned the loss, although you did not let it show.

“Yeah, I’d hope not. I’m not sure I’d be into threesomes” the delivery of the line seemed almost impeccable, making you preen at the instant reaction on Neil’s face in the form of his utter bewilderment. He blinked as if stuck with an exceptionally persistent thought, as a pink hue spread over his cheeks, widening your grin. As always, the instant gratification hit like the finest of drugs, getting right to your head, “Might get too possessive,” the addition, covertly whispered into his ear despite the empty carriage, only strengthened the effect as Neil sputtered, choking on his saliva.

Moments like this were why you knew you were already beyond the hope of saving. There was no going back from this. No chance of forgetting Neil and moving on with your life as if none of this ever happened. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to be honest with yourself, you admitted that you did not want to forget, even if you could.

“Helpful feedback” seemingly recovered from his moment, Neil shot you a glare, barely hiding the happiness visible in his gaze.

Teasing him was always the highlight of every meeting, giving you a chance to practice what you knew you were good at, with the additional advantage of an audience hanging upon each word. Briefly, you wondered whether having an active listener at your beck and call was good for your ego. Decidedly not, but the damage was already done.

“At your service” instead of entertaining the ridiculous thoughts, you mimed a low bow in his direction and squeezed his knee instead of pressing another presumptuous kiss to his cheek. Those would have to be held back until the next time you saw him. Just to be safe.

You met his intense, unwavering gaze just in time to see Neil sober up. His permanent smile faded as he shifted in the seat, almost as if steeling himself for something. Before you could open your mouth to ask, he broke the silence again:

“I have an answer for you” the initial confusion at the opener disappeared as soon as you noticed the uncertainty in his gaze. That sudden shyness you were slowly becoming accustomed to replaced the previous bravery as Neil took a fortifying breath and sighed out the promised answer, “Yes,” there was nothing else to it.

Just one word changing the course of your relationship without a hitch or hesitancy. The suddenness was the only thing that surprised you, with the brain half convinced Neil would need weeks to decide instead of just six days. Still, the uncertainty in his face must have been contagious, for you felt it spread across your soul, eradicating any other feeling or thought. There was no space for joy or excitement at what this course of events would mean for you. There was only doubt.

Whether Neil knew what he was saying. Whether he understood what it meant. Whether he was not making the mistake, Wheeler worried he was capable of. Whether you had the right to ask him in the first place.

Painfully aware of Neil’s attention, you forced your rapid heartbeat to slow down and voiced the only question that felt worth asking:

“Yes?” perhaps it was superfluous, just another second wasted on confirming what was already done and dusted.

Perhaps it spoke volumes about the person you wanted to be – thoughtful, patient, selfless – instead of the one you knew you were. Perhaps it was just another thing you could blame on the alcohol in your system. None of the reasons mattered as soon as Neil’s sombre countenance broke into another sunny smile. His hand came up to hold yours as if without a conscious thought. You settled in the feeling to find the necessary grounding.

“Yes. Because I don’t think I’m capable of keeping hands to myself when I’m with you” although the comment was anything but soft and affectionate, Neil’s hold told another story.

You stared as his thumb traced an invisible path over your knuckles. Over and over again. Until it was a sensation you could anchor within, taking a deep breath to find your footing once more. It would be alright. It had to.

“That’s flattering” despite the numerous buts and ifs whirling in your head, you met Neil’s searching gaze with a semi-confident smile.

You meant it. That much was certain. Because doubts and worries aside, all that mattered was simple: Neil wanted you. Enough so to try something new. Enough so not to choose between your friendship and the intimacy you could have alongside it. Enough so you didn’t have to decide for him instead.

As if reading your mind, Neil turned towards you and tightened the hold over your hand. Without breaking the eye contact, he raised your joined hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, repeating a move already so familiar, yet still somehow unexpected. The breath hitched in your chest as he leaned forward, his other hand cupping your cheek and the thumb carefully brushing over your blushing skin. Quickly, you became incapable of doing anything but stare, awaiting his next move.

Neil’s gaze roamed over your face, as always drawn to your eyes only to glance at your parted lips and get stuck there. Quirking your mouth into a smile, you barely had the mind to find an appropriate quip before Neil wiped the intent clear with one swipe of his thumb. You gasped as you felt his finger trace the contour of your lips, the lipstick applied just before exiting the pub still relatively intact. He seemed to contemplate the next step as his blue eyes flicked to yours, searching for something. Whatever it was, Neil must have found it, for the next thing you registered was a decisive touch of the offending finger, swiping over your lower lip to smudge the lipstick and smear it over the corner of your mouth. Another embarrassing sigh was unavoidable as you glanced up in time to see the hunger in his eyes. As is for the past week, he has been holding himself back just as much as you did. As if this was to be your new normal. The thought alone was enough to make you shiver.

“Even tonight, I thought about dragging you with me to the bathroom and…” the confession was whispered in the meagre space between your faces, Neil’s voice taking on the tone you already knew yet had not heard a while.

The low, husky notes reverberated through your veins, erasing any uncertainties you could have had. None of that mattered. You had Neil to do as you pleased, and he had you. For however long it would last. For however long it would be mutually beneficial. Of course.

Now, with the promise of what could be placed so openly in front of you, you did not want to waste a second longer. Time was precious enough. Ignoring the pounding in your heart and the way Neil’s fingers slipped down the slope of your throat to loosely rest over your collarbone, you decimated the space to nothing but millimetres and whispered:

“Next time, you can just ask” upon his silent question, you nodded, confirming what you hoped would be evident enough, “I’d let you” curling your fingers around his hand touching your collarbone, you pressed your joined hands over your heart and closed the gap to leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

The resistance from claiming his lips was running thinner by the minute. But, as with most things, you needed Neil to take that step. To confirm his words with something much more tangible than your entangled hands and knees pressed close.

“You’d let me do what?” Neil tilted his head slightly as if trying to get a better reading of you.

From the depth of feelings, he must have seen on your face.

The slight smug tint to his smile let you know it was all just a pose. He had it figured out already. Except that being a little shit that he sometimes tended to be, Neil wanted to hear you say it. Assuredly. Loudly. Just so there was no room for doubt and a chance to confirm what you both knew. The desire was very much mutual. Sometimes, especially at night, you liked to recollect the exact feel of his hands on your body and the sounds he made when he came inside you. Those memories were enough to make you climax.

Neil had that much power over you for better or for worse. Somehow, even before actively opening your mouth to speak, you already knew you would not put up a fight. There was no point.

“Whatever you want,” squeezing his hand that was comfortably placed in your lap, you made sure to meet his gaze when stating the obvious.

Neil took it with a blinding smile, his hand letting go of yours to venture up your neck again, lightly brushing over the faded bruises as if he could still remember where he had marked you a week before. You did not tell him that the morning after you took a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror. Just to have another thing to remember him by.

“And now?” with your proximity, you could feel his breath fan your face with every word spoken.

The intensity in Neil’s gaze was almost too much. Almost, for it was exactly what you needed to be brave again. It strengthened the resolve blooming beneath your skin as you cupped his cheek and stroked the stubble with your thumb. It was impossible not to notice how Neil closed his eyes upon your move, leaning into your palm as if that was what he needed. With the evidence of your shared wants so clearly displayed, you did not need further courage to say what has been nagging at your brain for the past hours. One request gnawing at your mind, heart and soul, impossible to ignored.

“Now just kiss me” frowning at the needy tone of your voice, you waited for Neil’s eyes to snap open to add what was only aimed to be a further persuasion, “Please. It’s been too long,” noting the hunger in his gaze, you knew you did not have to convince him to give you what you asked for.

He wanted it too, only-

“A week” his lips twisted into an amused smirk as he arched his eyebrow in the face of your hunger.

Any other time, you would have let him indulge in it. You would have let him be a nuisance to fulfil the internal quota Neil seemed to have set for himself. But tonight, you had no patience left.

“Exactly. Too long,” freeing your hand to draw him even closer with a hold over his jacket, you closed your eyes and slid your palm to the back of his neck, angling Neil the way you needed him.

Neil did not need further pointers. You heard his quiet groan, half-swallowed by your mouth and felt him pull you as close as physically possible with his arm around your waist and a hand on your cheek. Your body moulded to his shape, lips slanting over his with practised ease. That first swipe of your tongue across his lower lip instantly reminded you exactly why his kisses were something you missed so desperately. The familiar taste filled your senses, making you dig your fingertips in the hair on his nape, tugging gently at the golden locks. It was impossible not to let out a quiet moan straight into his opening mouth. Neil’s tongue greedily collected the sound, mapping the inside of your mouth with attention to detail that still astounded you. As did his unwavering hold, arm gently supporting your back and keeping you close, nestled into his chest and the warmth it provided.

You kissed until oxygen became a prized commodity you could not willingly give up. Even if you wanted to. Only then, with a final decisive peck on his closing lips, you leaned back (only as far as Neil would allow) and opened your eyes. He was one step ahead, staring at you with a soft smile. There was no choice but to mirror the expression, relaxing your hold on his neck and pressing your palm flat over his heart. Neil’s thumb stroked your cheekbone, eliciting an embarrassingly affectionate look in your eyes. As if hoping to rectify its impact, you dropped his gaze and let go of him, aware that more tenderness between you would only spell trouble. And that was the last thing you needed.

As if reading your mind, a feat you were half-sure Neil was capable of (all things considered), he dropped his hands, letting go of you and offered another reassuring smile. A simple gesture yet sufficient in helping your heart rate drop to normal levels. A cursory glance out the window assured you had not accidentally missed your stop - another win for the nonexistent tally. Almost as good as the very next thing Neil chose to say:

“Soon, I might also have that other answer for you” his nonchalant tone was a striking contrast to the previous certainty and smugness.

But it did its job, drawing you in with ease. Despite the fading awkwardness, you met his gaze and noted the sincerity you could see there. The genuine wish to both make you comfortable again and share that one significant piece of his story you did not yet possess.

“The one that got you in trouble tonight?” risking a sly look, you arched an eyebrow and leaned back in the creaky plastic chair.

While Wheeler indirectly told you to drop it, there was no chance you would listen. And especially not when it was just you and Neil, alone and open to each other like always.

You knew you had hit the jackpot with your guess when Neil winced, a passing shell-shocked expression on his face hinting at slight trauma of the kind that only the closest friends could inflict upon one another. Whatever happened when John all but hauled him out of the room was not pleasant. And it only added to the curiosity in your soul.

“It wasn’t- Yes, that one” interrupting his attempt at deflection, Neil nodded, his smile dropping in favour of something much more serious.

It was not a sight you wanted to see. It seemed wrong. Especially then in an empty carriage with the flickering lights after such a pleasant evening. As much as you wanted to know, constantly consumed with the eagerness to unveil that remaining piece of the puzzle labelled ‘Neil’ (the label was blue, with the glittery gold letters and pink heart-shaped embellishments), the other part of your brain hated seeing him so sombre. Hated the fading smiles and the uncertainties those grey moments tended to unleash within Neil. There was no question about what you needed to do.  

“That’s okay, I already know all I need” without letting yourself falter, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and offered him a bright smile.

Hoping to convey the most important message – it could wait. There was no rush. Nothing better to do but enjoy what you shared without further need to complicate it.

“Which is?” the hesitation in his question only drove the point forward, helping you eradicate the remaining inhibitions.

Even if just for this one moment. You knew your time was running out, with the St. John’s Wood station approaching mercilessly. If you were in luck, there were perhaps three minutes to spare. Three minutes to show Neil his secret did not matter at all.

Your hand slid down his chest to comfortably settle atop his knee, the warmth of his body slowly becoming your favourite type of anchor. Neil glanced at your subtle move, but he stayed still. Almost as if afraid to move and break the spell. This fear, too, had to be quelled immediately.

“That I’m allowed to do this” with a whisper, you leaned in and closed the gap again by covering his mouth in a gentle kiss. Where previously there was hunger and desire, this time tenderness reigned, helping you settle the right pace with measured pecks and soothing caresses of your hands upon his body. Neil matched you beat for beat, drawing you closer again and gladly accepting all that you were giving. You kissed until a familiar crackle of the PA system made you separate, panting mouth and hazed eyes shared between you. Grinning like a lunatic, you leaned back in for a split second to kiss his cheek and stood up before Neil had a chance to react, “And that you’re my best friend” it almost felt like a relief to say out loud. Especially when the confession was received with Neil’s surprised, yet blinding smile, breaking through the paralysis induced by your sudden actions. The train began to slow down, approaching your station platform. Without another word or reckless act, you approached the doors and turned your head towards him with a simple farewell “Goodnight” as soon as it slid open, you left the carriage.

[spicerackofblorbos]

back to main masterlist

➤ Levi Ackerman

➳ Unspoken Words | Levi x mute!fem!Reader ModernAU [complete]

➥ 1. November / 2. December / 3. January / 4. February / 5. March / 6. April / 7. May / 8. June - Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / 9. Epilogue

➳ Speak Now | ModernAU 🎵

➳ Neighbors | ft. Hange Zoe/ModernAU

➳ The Bakery | ModernAU

➳ No Regrets | Underground/Canon

➳ Just Friends | ModernAU

➳ You'll Be Okay | Canon

➳ Dandelions | Canon 🎵

➳ Sunrise | ModernAU

➳ Who Could Leave Me? | ModernAU 🎵

➵ Can't Sleep | ModernAU

➵ Pathological People Pleaser | ModernAU

➵ Stay | Canon

➵ Fucking Doors | ModernAU

➵ Kitty Acquisition | ModernAU

➵ Can I Go Where You Go? | Canon

➵ I Won't Regret You | ModernAU

➵ What Comes Next | ModernAU

➳ Sparring | Canon

➳ Are You There? | Canon 🎵

➳ I'm Fine | Canon

➳ Sleeping In | ModernAU 🎵

➳ You Just Have to Believe It | ModernAU

➳ Same Page | Canon

➳ Curveball | ModernAU

➳ Delicate🎵

➳ If highschool Levi was into D&D

➳ Meme Culture

➳ I Hate You I Love You

➳ The First of Many

➤ Erwin Smith

➵ What's Mine, Is Yours | Canon

➤ Reiner Braun

➵ Books and Braun | ModernAU

➤ Armin Arlert

➵ A Trip to the Sea | ModernAU

➵ For You, I Would | ModernAU

➳ Salt Air

➳ Ice Prince | ModernAU

➤ Miche Zacharius

➳ Sparring 2.0 | Canon

➤ Multi-Character

➳ Where I'd Take AoT Characters on a Date

➳ How AoT Characters React to You Reading Smut

I do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, and repost my works anywhere. Do NOT feed my works into AI. All works listed above belong to me, @spicerackofblorbos and @chaotic-on-main. updated: March 4th, 2024

[raisin-shell]

The Blindfold

TMNT Bayverse x fem reader

18+ language/SMUT

Warnings: ⚠️ all situations are presented in a consensual form. The boys would in no way shape or form force themselves upon another against their will. That said, read at your own risk.

Chapter One:

Leonardo breathed in deeply as he looked on into the night’s skyline, the docks were always his favorite to patrol. He loved the smell of the salt in the air but particularly for the last couple of days, a new scent had presented itself.

“She’s close.”

He says this in a hushed tone, almost stupidly as if his own brothers couldn’t pick up the smell of a mature human female in close proximity. His brother Mikey let’s him know this by loudly whispering a ‘duh’ into the wind no doubt startling the curious woman which was the last thing they needed.

You could remember the exact day you first heard rumor of these vigilantes. It was the day the so called Vern The Falcon took down the Shredder. You were there, a news reporter from Channel 3 Eye Witness News. Channel 6’s biggest competitor and you had several eye witnesses tell the same story. Stories of these… creatures that saved the city. Despite your best efforts, April O’Niel’s story made headlines and your story? Well… you started going a tad bit over board. You went back to witnesses, asking them every little detail they remembered. What they looked like, where they went and finally one day you discovered your first clue. The old man who owned the market on 3rd claimed they disappeared underground through the manhole cover just across from his shop. Bingo.

✅ ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅

You started mapping out foot attacks, noticing a sort of pattern as if these creatures as the witnesses put it, had a routine. And while their pattern was certainly different and much more difficult to decipher, the foot’s on the other hand was not. Your eyes widened as your finger busily tapped right above the location of the docks on your map tacked neatly upon your bulletin board. According to your calculations that’s where they would hit next. A sudden shudder of danger, the realization of it at least fluttered through your body. You knew the risks but should the foot show up you also knew these protectors would be there. You were hell bent on it. You grabbed your keys and cellphone and bolted towards the exit of the 25th floor of the building. Your destination… the docks.

“Keep it down. She’ll hear us!”

Raph’s burly voice somehow boomed even louder than Mikey’s hush. Leonardo could do nothing but shake his head. They were supposed to be ninjas yet every time a woman entered the picture they acted like a cluster of numb skulls. Still his brow arched to the slightest of movement coming from the woman’s direction. All four brothers fell still and silent, four sets of eyes honed in on their target as the view of the top of her head slowly rose over the air vent. Leo lifted his finger to a point then dropped it sharply, a silent que for them to scatter. Limber muscles encased in hard shells vanished in thin air or so it seemed. For now they had this woman confused and now even more curious, eyes glaring at her from the comfortable hide of the shadows. She was walking right into their trap.

The Docks

You had barely parked your car along an adjacent street a couple blocks away, hearing gun shots and loud crashes inside what appeared to be an old abandoned marina you quickly ran towards the commotion.

“It’s gotta be them. I fucking know it’s them!”

You pant as your sneakers bounce against the pavement, running stalled by a bared up door with chains and locks wrapped around it to boot.

“Shit!”

Your head darted back and fourth frantically, looking for any possible way in when the sudden sound of silence sent a frightening chill down your spine. Head pressed against the bared up doors, you listened. You could hear the sound of voices. It sounded as if they were celebrating, possibly gloating about something. In this moment of slow motion your eyes happened to fall upon a small broken window to which you could easily crawl through so you took full advantage of the opportunity. Lights barely flicked inside the building. Old rickety boats left stalled and forgotten to rot were all that remained it seemed until you turned the flash light on on you phone and saw several foot soldiers badly beaten, tied together…. Some lifeless and lying on the ground in pools of blood.

🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟🪟

It took every fiber within your being not to scream but you were on a mission. You knew the foot would be here, now it was time to find out who these vigilantes really were. Your head flicked upward as the voices continued to echo throughout the decrepit building. They were on the roof. You started scanning the walls with your phone light, searching for a ladder or a garbage shaft. You did happen to find the maintenance ladder for the boat lift that led up to a long set of glass windows.

“That could lead to the roof.”

You stirred towards the ladder, hoping over a body or two along the way before you reached the first rung and started making your way up. The closer you got to the windows, the louder the voices would get. Your heart began to race in excitement, phone in hand and camera at the ready. Once you were finally at the top you slipped up against the windows, unlatching one and pushing it through as you peered out into the darkness. This did give you access to another roof to another building but the voices seemed to be coming from there so you followed.

“Dude, you’re just mad because you don’t got my skills!”

One voice rang out.

“Skills? Skills? And who got the most kills? I rest my fuckin’ case.”

Another Brooklyn accent boomed.

“You know Raph, there is this new thing. It’s called restraint. Breaking every neck of every opponent is not it.”

Another scolded as you slowly continued to make your way towards the humongous forms still hidden by the darkness. You couldn’t make out exactly what they were. They spoke English. From the way they spoke they seemed to be in their early 30’s. Your hands began to tremble and you swallowed hard as you overheard one of them say “she’s close”. Shit.

You ducked down swiftly, back against the air vent making a deep pop and you could have swore you felt your soul leave your body. They had to of heard that. Your chest heaved as your breathing shuddered in sheer fear. You waited in silence. Trying to hear anything else but there was nothing. You could only hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as your back slid upwards and you tilted your head up and over the air vent to take a peek. They were gone.

💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💨

“Fuck”

You whispered breathlessly, slowly slipping your way from behind the air vent and making your way into the open. Only the light of a very pale moon guided you across the clearing surrounded by darkness. You decided to be brave. They couldn’t have went far so you called out to them.

“Hello? I… I mean you no harm. I just… I just wanted to know more. More about the true saviors and protectors of this city.”

You pause in the silence, turning slowly to check your surroundings when suddenly a swift push from behind hand you on all fours and a blindfold was quickly draped over your eyes. You froze, all intentions were to struggle but if these were indeed the massive forms you had spotted from earlier, you wouldn’t dare try to fight. Slowly with your hands held high and spread you rose. A signal to them hopefully that you meant no harm.

“Well well well would ya looky here. Ha! Seems we got a stalker boys.”

The Brooklyn accent boomed close from behind you, vibrating your entire body and sending a slight tingle to your core. Your thighs rubbed together tightly, you more in shock that this was turning you on more than scaring the ever loving shit out of you.

“Hmm… yes. It seems miss that we have taken your fancy here of late.”

A smooth, calm and deep voice patted against your ear as your jaw dropped in a soft pant.

“What should we do with her?”

A charismatic yet friendly voice chirped up through the rugged two.

“Well, seeing as she’s so interested in finding out more about us, I say we take her to my lab… for testing.”

💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉💉

A highly intelligent voice rang through with a dark chuckle. It took all you could to not weaken in the knees. You knew what you were in for when you signed up for this. Well, maybe not exactly being blind folded and kid napped but who’s to say you wouldn’t ensnare a stalker should you have one? Right? You nodded obediently no sooner than you felt the grip of two large strong arms wrap around you, lifting you up over one massive shoulder and scampering of with the elegance of a deer. Each movement beneath you was precise, smooth and surprisingly gentle despite the massive muscles laid beneath your body.

After about twenty or so minutes of feeling the wind in your hair as this creature pounced along with your body in tow, you came to a complete stop. You could hear the sound of heavy metal scraping against the street beneath you when the being began to move forward again and with one swift movement you both dropped down only to meet the bottom with a loud splash. There was this stench. All too familiar. You knew you were beneath ground in the sewers. Where at exactly was a complete mystery to you.

#let me know in the comments if you want me to keep going with this story, each encounter with each turtle will be it’s own chapter#

[chaotic-on-main]

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➳ Unspoken Words | Levi Ackerman x mute!fem!Reader ModernAU [complete]

➥ 1. November / 2. December / 3. January / 4. February / 5. March / 6. April / 7. May / 8. June - Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / 9. Epilogue

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➳ Dandelions | Levi Ackerman CanonAU 🎵

➳ Sunrise | Levi Ackerman ModernAU

➳ Who Could Leave Me? | Levi Ackerman ModernAU 🎵

➳ Sparring | Levi Ackerman CanonAU

➳ Are You There? | Levi Ackerman CanonAU 🎵

➳ I'm Fine | Levi Ackerman CanonAU

➳ Sleeping In (MDNI) | Levi Ackerman ModernAU 🎵

➳ You Just Have to Believe It | Levi Ackerman ModernAU

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I do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, and repost my works anywhere. All works listed above belong to me, @chaotic-on-main.

updated: November 23rd 2023

[oblivious-idiot]

Hi ! Do you write for Quill Kipps too ? If so, is it possible to have something with Quill meeting the reader for the first time please? 🙇🏻‍♀️

The Recruitment Fair

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! It took me a few different plot ideas before this came to me, so I hope you like it!

Warnings: Fluff, young Quill Kipps

Word count: 1k

Pairings: Quill Kipps x fem!Reader

Once a year, the Fittes Agency opened its doors to young aspiring agents, giving them a tour around the headquarters and showing new recruits what it would be like to work there. Most of the time Fittes would require a letter of recommendation from the agents' current supervisors and to have passed their grade four exam, but the recruitment fair was a way for young agents to join the agency early and complete their training with them.

Almost as soon as you had passed your grade four exam, a letter dropped through your letterbox, Fittes Agency, London was stamped onto the top corner of the envelope and you let out a squeal of excitement. You had been sent the details to the recruitment fair, just like your supervisor Mr Hendricks had promised to sign you up for. You were 15, turning 16 soon, so you knew being able to spend the next few year using your talent for the biggest agency in the country was always a goal of yours. Your supervisor had always said you were hardworking and a natural born leader, as well as being an exceptionally gifted Listener, and although he would be sad to see you leave his little local agency he knew he couldn't stop you for going to London.

As you stepped off the train into Kings Cross station, you could already tell the atmosphere of the city was different from that of your small village, the ghost lamps hanging dormant in the late morning sun, the familiar smell of iron and lavender filling your nose. You found a nearby map and searched for the Fittes House on the Strand, planning out which tube you would have to take in order to get there "Piccadilly line, perfect" you muttered to yourself and you headed to the underground station.

You weren't sure what to expect when it came to the Fittes House, let alone what the recruitment fair would have in store, but the sheer expanse of the banners, music, and bustling people around the building absolutely took your breath away. As you walked into the centre of the building you looked up and gasped, for the ceiling looked like it spanned at least 6 or 7 floors, you'd never seen anything quite like it. Pulling you out of your excited daze you heard a soft voice getting your attention "Excuse me miss, are you here for the fair?" it was a young guy, maybe a little older than you by the looks of it, wearing the signature silver Fittes uniform "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I must've got carried away, I've always wanted to come here" you admitted sheepishly, which just made the boy chuckle "I'm more than happy to show you around and get you aquatinted with the building, if you'd like?" he asked, shooting you a charming smile before holding his hand out for a shake "I'm Quill Kipps by the way."

Quill took the time to take you all around the fair, making sure to introducing you to each member of the agency that was working and helping in any way that he could, but soon it came to lunch and you had started to become hungry from your long morning "Hey, so I was wondering if you knew any good spots for lunch?" you asked as you checked your watch "Oh yes of course! I know an insane bagel place if you wanted to go?" he gave you a soft, almost nervous smile and attempted to tame his short blond curls "I would absolutely kill for a bagel sandwich right now" you admitted, which made the two of you laugh. The two of you seemed to get along quite well, and he continued to help you out throughout the rest of the fair if you needed it.

By the end of the day, it was getting late and curfew wouldn't be long, so you thanked him for all of his help "I've really appreciated all of your help today, especially for lunch! Now I just have to hope I'll get in, I've always wanted to work here" "Oh I wouldn't worry about it, you're references are exceptional and we could do with more Listeners like you on the team" Kipps admitted to you, before pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbling on it "Here, so you can tell me the good news yourself" he smiles as passes you the paper with his phone number scribbled on.

You had gotten into the Fittes agency, and before you knew it you had moved to London to be battling the worse Visitors you had ever seen. You wouldn't even notice the years passing, working with Quill everyday without fault, watching him become your team supervisor and his ego getting bigger, which you would have to reign in for him on occasion.

You held a polaroid picture in your fingers, one that you kept in your wallet at all time - it was of you and Quill when you first met, fresh faced and full of life. The two of you had grown up in many ways, seeing the horrors of being an agent, watching your colleagues die in your arms, battling relic men and vicious Visitors alike, but seeing the two of you so young always made you smile. "Are you ready to go?" Quill asked, poking his head around your door into your room "What've you got there?" He queried as he came to sit next to you on the bed "It's us, from when I first joined Fittes, do you remember?" "As if it was yesterday. I must say, I've definitely gotten better looking with age" he joked as he picked up the picture to get a better look "Oh you wish Quill" you teased, which he just pushed you away playfully "Alright, not more special treatment for you then" he grinned and handed you the picture back "Come on, before Barnes bites my head off for being late."

[blackleatherjacketz]

Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 6

Alistair x Female Reader, Jack Russell x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

This Chapter: Having no choice but to go along with Alistair, you let him take you underground to prove his devotion to you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Mature Content, Kidnapping, Coercion, Dubious Consent, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Undressing, Spanking, petting, Vaginal Fingering, Female Orgasm, Finger Sucking, Jealousy, Victorian Furniture and Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake”

Word Count: 3k+

Notes: Revised Completley!

Tags: @skittle479 @bullet-prooflove @jessicafangirl @avatarofseshat @sadndnboii-reads @bluemoonperegrine

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Alistair’s hand squeezes tightly onto yours as you both descend the floors beneath the abandoned pizzeria you didn’t even know were there. A watered down version of Swan Lake’s ‘Moderato’ plays from the aged speakers as your stomach does flips each time he looks at you, despite doing its best to keep down the wine and cheese you just consumed mere moments before. That smirk on his lips brings you back to the first time you met, his thumb grazing the inside of your wrist reminding you that this situation could turn out in your favor if all else fails. If Jack doesn’t show up like he promised and Alistair has his way with you, then those endless eyes could be staring back at you for all of eternity.

Where the hell is Jack, anyways? Didn’t he say he was going to get help? How long was that supposed to take?

A high-pitched ding signals your imminent arrival to his desired floor, startling you with a jolt of your shoulders as the metal box slows to a halt. The doors slide silently open as the music continues, revealing a long hallway with centuries old wallpaper and crystal chandeliers dimly lighting the way to a large red door at the very end.

“I just can’t wait for you to see the surprise I have for you.” He tugs on your hand before stepping across the threshold, pulling you out of the world above and into the world below. Into the very belly of the beast. Each step he takes echoes loudly against the ancient walls, almost an exact replica of the house you visited him in before, only without the haunting portraits and landscapes to stare you down.

Half a dozen blackened doorways on either side of you take their place however, seeming to stretch upward in length as you cautiously try to match his stride. His grip on your hand only tightens as you blink repeatedly, trying to make sense of the stretching hallway until he deftly slows his pace. Curling his wrist inward, he reigns you in before deciding to stop in front of the last door on the right.

Taking a key out of his jacket pocket, he slides it into the aged brass doorknob and turns it with delicate ease. He pushes it open to reveal a large bedroom furnished with expensive Victorian furniture, a warm fire popping in the opposite wall behind a wrought iron cage. It warms your face as you enter the doorway, noticing a queen bed tucked in the right corner, four posts made of solid dark walnut draped with emerald green velvet as he leads you into the middle of the space.

The classical music begins to soften as you follow him into the room, fading away until you can no longer hear it at all. The sound of the crackling fire soon takes over, soothing you enough to run your hands over the thick, heavy comforter that lays across the luxurious bed. Your fingertips trace their way up the blanket to the matching sets of pillows embroidered with your initials, etched with golden silk tassels dangling at the corners. A dark bedside table holds a small electric lamp, matching the wood on the rounded corners of a crushed velvet settee sitting near the fire.

“What do you think?” He asks, watching you take inventory of every outfit he’d bought for you in the wardrobe next to the setee.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit, the warmth of the fire and the smell of the wood all but intoxicating you as you take in the extraordinary details of the bedroom. You can’t believe it: it’s as if he’s seen every page you’ve ever collected from your mother’s old Home and Gardens magazine and matched them exactly. No one’s ever done that before, ever taken so much care and effort to give you everything… anything you’ve ever wanted without having to ask or make it seem like a chore.

“I know how much you love that shade of green.” He stands in the middle of the room as you gingerly circle around him, smirking as your expression gives away your enraptured state of mind.

“I do.” You spot a dress of the same color hanging on the vanity as you nearly make it all the way back to the door. Its silk fabric seems to practically drip down from the hanger over the darkened wood of the mirror that shows only your reflection, the vibrant waves cascading over the table and down onto the floor. “Is that dress for me?”

“It’s all for you,” he steps behind you and whispers into your ear, his scent of oak and cinnamon slowly emanating into your nostrils. “Every bit of it.”

You can’t help but hold your breath as he gets closer to you, his hand holding onto your hip as you both stare at the lavish ball gown in stoic silence. Is this supposed to be the last dress you ever wear now that he’s made sure you’ve eaten your last meal? The dress that he bites you in, drains you in? The dress that you die in? Your final burial shroud? All of the sudden, your semi-flippant attitude toward his plans for you begins to crumble, the gravity of your situation now settling into your stomach in a weighty sense of impending doom. You start to wonder when you last called your parents or told them that you loved them, knowing full well that it’s far too late for any of that now.

“Wh… what’s behind the other doors that we passed in the hallway? More rooms like this?” You turn your head to face him, your nose barely brushing against his chin.

Were there other women just like you behind those doors? Each of them locked away into their own beautiful rooms just to be preyed upon at his leisure? If so, how many of them were there? How long had they been there? How many times has he fed on them? Would he ever let them go? Would he ever let you go now that you’re down here?

“Now, now,” he tsks. “You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.” He wraps his hand around the back of your neck before pressing his fingertips into the base of your hairline, massaging your scalp all the way up to your crown. “Why don’t you forget all about that and step out of this ragged little number for me?”

He presses his thumb and forefinger behind your ears, forcing your eyes to flutter shut and your mouth to fall open as that warm, blissful feeling rushes down your spine. He takes the opportunity to snake his fingers down your neck to swiftly remove your bandage before tossing it aside, temporarily washing your worries away with his actions. He takes his time pulling your hooded sweatshirt up above your head and off; the heat from the fire warming the bare skin on your torso as you allow him to continue disrobing you. His chilly palms carefully brush their way back down your arms and breasts, tying a familiar knot into your stomach before they graze their way down to your hips.

“Your beauty never ceases to amaze me,” he kisses his praise into your shoulder as he starts taking your pants off, delicately sliding them down your legs until you step out of them entirely. “Aphrodite herself would be jealous.”

You try to think of something to say, something to match his level of adoration as he stands up and curls his fingers beneath your jaw, but can come up with nothing. Instead you just nod in hushed understanding, acknowledging his tainted compliment as he stares at you through his frigid grip on your face.

“Before you put that on, though, why don’t you let me show you how well I really know you.” He lets go of your chin and shrugs out of his jacket, folding it onto the back of the chair near the vanity. He loosens his tie with a smirk and makes his way over to the bed, pulling the silk garment through the loop of his collar as he finally sits down on the mattress.

Jesus Christ, this escalated quickly. How the hell did you end up HERE like THIS? How the hell did he get you naked again so fucking fast?

“Come here,” he orders, slowly patting his thigh as he summons you with blackened eyes.

Oh, that’s how.

“Yeah,” you huff, taking a few timid steps forward. “Okay.” You pad your way across the hardwood floor until you end up climbing onto the bed next to him, cautiously straddling his legs as his hands glide over your bare body, effortlessly pulling you into him.

“I know you better than he does, better than he ever could.” He gently turns you on to your side, guiding you over his lap so that his hands smooth lovingly over your head and hair once you settle into him. “I know every inch of your body, every hair on your head…” He tucks a strand of it behind your ear, tracing the outline of its shell before following the curvature of your spine down to your lower back with his fingertips. He grazes his palm up and down your back, increasing his pressure on your muscles every time, forcing the fine hair along its path to stand on end. “I know every expression on your beautiful face, and every nuanced tone in your voice.”

“Yeah?” Is all you can think to say as he continues caressing your back, almost as if you were a sort of pet curled up in his lap after a long day.

“Does this feel familiar, darling? He asks, grabbing onto one of your cheeks and pulling it up toward him to get a better view of what he’s after.

You nod as his chilly hand tightens its grip on you, forcing you to inhale quickly as you feel him grow beneath your belly.

“What was that?” He begs for clarity, his lips pressed against your scalp as his breath warms your skin.

“Yes,” you whisper as your nipples harden against the mattress, everything about your past with him becoming crystal clear as the moisture begins to grow between your legs.

“Good.” He kisses your hair and lets your muscle bounce back into place. “It sounds like you almost forgot your words there for a moment.” He wastes no time in sliding his fingers in between your cheeks, dipping them down low enough to glide across your folds as they suddenly become slick with your inevitable arousal.

“Yes,” you moan, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit with each torturous pass, your body keeping the score as it instinctively responds to his extensive carnal knowledge. “I mean no, I mean ohhhh my God.”

“Only I know what you really like.” He pulls his hand away before bringing it back down with a loud and sudden smack, a sharp twinge jolting your body forward. “What you need.”

A stifled yelp leaves your lips as the pain shoots its way up your spine, the brief pause quickly interrupted by another hard smack, this time to the opposite cheek. You hear him chuckle before his hand comes crashing down onto the other, repeating this relentless pattern one right after the other, hit after hit as it nearly sends you leaping forward off his lap entirely. He manages to keep you still with a hand on your throat, his nose nestled into the base of your neck as your moans morph into guttural groans. Tears well up in your eyes as the pleasure he’s delivering barely outweighs the pain that settles deep into your muscles, his abuse forcing your sex to drip down onto the polyester fabric of his his thigh. His strikes gradually become less frequent, the break between them growing longer as he finally decides to rub his palm over your newly reddened flesh in order to soothe it.

“Now, let’s see if I’m right.” He whispers against your skin, sliding his fingers between your now soaking wet folds as your juices all but drench your needy center. He glides them across your length again with impeccable ease, massaging little waves of bliss into your swollen bud as you begin to tremble beneath his touch. “Looks like I was. Always so wet for me.”

You rock back and forth against his hand as a pattern of gooseflesh ripples up your backside, causing those waves to build up into full blown tremors of ecstasy. They quake through your entire body as he pushes two fingers in, stimulating you from that special spot deep inside your velvety walls as his thumb still presses circles into your clit. He cracks that internal fault line wide open, watching the tears stream down your face as your body convulses around his fingers in a series of uncontrollable shockwaves of euphoria, one right after the other. They rush their way through you, building up from your epicenter with a groan so deep it nearly rattles his bones along with yours as they tremble in its wake.

“Alistair!” You shout, your arms and legs trembling in overstimulation as the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of you echoes loudly against the walls. “Alistair, oh my God!” Your last word comes out in a breathy moan as your muscles fail you, leaving you limp in his lap as the aftershock rocks its way through your system.

“I barely even touched you, and look how well you respond to me.” He pulls his now drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up between your cheeks, across your back and over your shoulder until they’re right in front of your face. “Open.”

You follow his orders and do as you're told, opening your mouth just enough for him to shove two fingers past your lips and across your tongue. There’s no denying the sweet tang of your orgasm that coats your juices still clinging to his digits as he pushes in all the way up to his knuckles. Even as your eyes begin to water, you can’t help but relish in the taste of your own satisfaction as your tremors slow to a complete halt. You run your tongue between his fingers to further savor the flavor until he reluctantly pulls them back out.

A single trail of spit connects you before he shoves them into his own mouth, those dark eyes of his rolling back into his head as the concoction of your fluids momentarily intoxicates him. For a split second, some deranged part of you wonders how good he might have looked when he first tasted your blood, if it was anything close to this or much more gratuitous. But before you know it, he’s out of his trance entirely, his hands roving back over your body in a soothing, gentle rhythm.

“Tell me I don’t know you now.” He leans down to kiss your lips, the embrace seeming almost chaste in comparison as your unique flavor gets passed back between you both.

“You know me,” you confirm, breaking the kiss with a gentle nod.

“Good.” He pets your hair one more time, leaning in just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “I have another surprise for you.” He insists, that Cheshire grin spreading across his lips again.

Alistair helps you into the green ball gown just as carefully as he helped you out of your sweats, his hands tucking you into every nook and cranny of the silk dress as it drapes over your frame. He runs his hands through your hair after zipping you up, cupping your face before smiling with an arrogant sense of pride, almost as if he had created you himself.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, little lamb.” He soberly kisses your cheek before stepping back to admire you in full. “Are you ready for your next surprise?”

“I am,” you tell him, trying to accept that it could be the very last surprise of your life.

The instrumental ballet starts up again as soon as you leave the room with him, growing in volume through a set of speakers you can’t quite seem to locate as you both approach the ominous red door at the end of the hallway you almost forgot about entirely. The song’s previous corporate elevator tones are effortlessly replaced by a symphony of clarinets and bassoons, building onto each other as the plucking of a harp notes every step you take toward the precipice of the doorway.

You watch Alistair raise his eyebrows in giddy anticipation as an assortment of violins showers your senses with their chorus, the tone of the song getting darker and more profound as he wraps his fingers around the handle of the door. You can feel the music inside of you just as sure as you felt him before, the build up of all the instruments now working together as French horns collide with trumpets and drums, pushing the potent emotion of the piece up into your core and out of your body through tiny little goosebumps on your skin.

The red door finally opens.

The devastating sight before you dispels any enchantment Tchaikovsky’s famous work previously had on your senses. The roaring climax of that chilling act fails to prickle its way through the tiny hairs on the top layer of your skin as your heart drops into the bitter acid of your stomach, threatening to bring up your last meal along with it. That harsh and undeniable truth that you’d somehow always feared in the back of your mind has finally come to fruition: Jack isn’t coming to save you.

He can’t.

Confirming your greatest fears, Jack’s wrists and ankles appear to be secured in chains before your very eyes, holding him captive against a cement wall, the shirt you let him borrow now tattered to shreds. Something about these restraints is preventing him from moving too much or trying to escape, his helpless eyes eventually landing on you once you reach the center of the room. You’re too late. He’s too late, unable to save you from this scheming creature of the night as you both share a long look of mutual despair.

“Surprise!” Alistair exclaims as the music fades off into silence, both hands spreading out in a dramatic fashion.

[belaprus]

Dottore x reader: being his assistant (pt.6)

"Why did you call me here?"

"You know, that little assistant you gave me... so capable of her work and all... So. Who is she?"

"..."

"I mean, you couldn't possibly make me think that a woman with two visions would be the average Fatui rookie, right? But I've never seen or heard of her. So spit it out."

It was no option. Pantalone wasn't disturbed at all, since he had planned to tell him at some point:

"She's an Akademiya outcast... Much like you"

His eyes lit up, for but a fraction of a second: "What for?"

"She was the first one who had tried to heal the mad scholars, going off to the desert just for the sake of knowledge. She was obviously radiated"

"Delving beyond the universe and attempting the forbidden, I guess. Is that all?"

"She's very simpathetic. For four full years, she has lived with the mad scholars and acted like them. Most people thought she had gone mad too, but she was just getting into their comfort zone to observe them thoroughly. The moment she was cast out from the Akademiya, she had already realized there was nothing more to learn about them... and that's about when I found her. I gave her something new to explore"

"How much did you tell her about me?"

Pantalone smiled, a tint of malice in his eyes:

"What she knows about you is beyond my grasp. Ever since she joined, all she cared about was getting to know every bit of you. Most of the information, she found out by herself. I liked that about her: she obsesses herself over something, and when she's got the gist of it she would move on to antoher subject. Luckily for her, she doesn't have any malicious intentions... Unlike us, she really just wants to know. If you think about it, it's no wonder I chose her to be your assistant"

Was it all she cared about? Digging into his private life... And he didn't even know how much she had already found out. He was getting anxious just by the thought: much to his disppointment, he still was in bad terms with his past, especially now that his clones were gone. What if she had talked to them? He wouldn't be able to know now. And obviously Pantalone feeding on that very knowledge wasn't the ideal situation. Though he couldn't blame her - they were quite similar, when it came to curiousity -, her being curious about HIM was something that he couldn't help but feeling unsettled about.

Pantalone could read right through his mind, and his smile was widening by every passing minute:

"I guess you will have to do a “background check” on her too, right?"

Dottore had understood his words instantly, but Pantalone's expression was implying something else: ‘are you capable of doing it?’. And here he was, dwelling between the only two possibilities: asking Pantalone or asking her, what she knew about himself. The former would be a blow to his pride, plus it would be a hassle to eventually take Pantalone out and it would confirm the girl to be a weak spot, which would put his only assistance in finding ingredients in danger... Plus, there was the remote possibility that his colleague really didn't know. The latter was the more rational one, but he felt like she would take advantage of it somehow - he didn't want to know how. For the moment, he had decided on the lesser evil:

"It will be done. But if she ever mentions you telling her of any sensible topic, you're six feet underground"

"Don't you trust me, comrade?"

"Tch"

With that, each one returned to their own affairs.

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Masterlist

꧁•⊹٭𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘٭⊹•꧂

Act I ~ At the height of the popularity of hair metal, corny MTV videos and spandex, the grounded sound of smalltown gritty guitars starts bubbling to the surface of Seattle underground. Stone Gossard and Keeva Andrews, the four-armed riff beast of Mother Love Bone, find themselves in the eye of the storm as the whirlwind of rising popularity tests their limits.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: this is for all the down-bad 90’s band kids who don’t fit in (and don’t wanna fit in)

first part of a series (hopefully) that will (hopefully) follow a few decades (hopefully)!

once again, the names of chapters reference a song either appearing in the story or just simply fitting the vibe. ♡

you can try to play along and see if you can spot them. it can be a little inside joke between us, reader.

caution: a lot of swearing, pining, possibly mildly lewd content, a whole lot of chirping from sarcastic little assholes that are hopelessly in love, minor injuries (the 90’s were the wild wild west), mentions of drugs and addiction. i will list any tws at the beginning of each chapter ♡

Chapter 1 - River

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire

Chapter 3 - For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her

Chapter 4 - Watermelon In Easter Hay

Chapter 5 - Pulled Up

Chapter 6 - Maybe

Chapter 7 - Bloodshot Ruby

Chapter 8 - Over My Head

Chapter 9 - Feel Flows

Chapter 10 - Indifference

Chapter 11 - She