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jimilter · 3 years ago

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riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary: It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings: swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note: it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you.

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever—

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids.

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you.

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning.

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?"

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?!

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands.

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts.

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month.

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can.

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit.

You felt dispensable.

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing.

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other.

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?”

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?"

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought.

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?”

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you.

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world.

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this.

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment.

You’ve never given him the silent treatment.

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure.

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it.

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?”

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning.

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected.

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own.

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that.

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way.

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind?

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh.

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him.

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home.

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday.

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning.

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you.

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings.

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant.

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission.

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road.

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car.

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do.

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.”

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser.

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans.

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them.

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him.

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator.

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed.

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you.

He’s right, isn’t he?

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen.

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously.

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly.

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile.

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too.

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it.

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

Text

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre: Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially.

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn’t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message.

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together.

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,” Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly. “They’re happy tears.”

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,” Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away.

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.

“Did he?”

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him.

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.

He bought the fucking house.

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.

“Till the End of Our Lives.”

Bonus Chapter 15

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harrypotter-imaginess · 4 years ago

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: maybe two more parts after this

Commission info for a Love Letter from your favorite HP character here - close 3/10/21!

You sigh as you lean your head back on the arm rest of Draco’s couch

You can see him extending a glass of wine towards you, and you take it gingerly into your hand

“I think I want to quit my job”

He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow and takes a seat in the arm chair next to the sofa you’re sprawled over like you’re at the therapists office

“Planning to coast along on your good looks?” He finally says, trying to keep his face as stern as possible.

Despite himself a smile arch’s onto the corner of his mouth

“I’m being serious!” You say, sitting up.

Draco openly laughs now, and he doesn’t stop until you throw a pillow at him.

“Well what do you expect when you say somethin’ like that out of nowhere.” He manages to say between bursts of laughter

You both have been dating for a while now, almost a year- you even brought him to a company holiday party

Life has been good

Having to hide his wizardry from you isn’t all that hard, he just had to completely reprogram the way he operates as a human being and now he’s fine

...

It’s been a little challenging

You sigh, a hand threading through your hair, eyebrows threaded together

Well now he’s a little worried, he figured you were just joking around but-

“Did something happen at work?”

Did someone say something to you- or maybe someone did something to you

Draco’s already running a list of curses in his mind by the time you sigh and shake your head

“Nothing that hasn’t been happening- not really.”

The cruciatus curse seems a little to far, maybe boils? No that’s too obvious

“It’s a nice place to work, I have it really good, it’s just-“ your eyes flicker from your glass of wine to Draco

“I always figured once I had a steady income life would be exciting yknow? And I would travel and be making memories but-“

You should be grateful, you have a good life. A comfortable job, a cozy house and-

Your eyes flicker to him, taking his impeccably handsome face, that ash blonde hair, and vibrant grey eyes

And you’ve got Draco

But even though you have all these things, you can’t help but feel like life is just passing you by, and before you know it you’ll be 80 on your death bed having done nothing at all

Draco’s quiet for a moment, picking up on the unspoken sentiment

Maybe you shouldn’t have unpacked on him like that- he’s got his own problems too after all

“Let’s go on Holiday”

Huh?

Draco picks up on your confusion and elaborates on his reasoning

“You’re just a little burned out, you need a break.”

It happened to his Dad all the time when he was a kid, he’d get caught up in all of his dark magic council meetings and his board positions and wonder if this is just life was- an endless power struggle

And that’s when his Mum would swoop in with an elegant family trip to some exotic location, and they would all come back like new people.

Right now you need someone to show you the joy in life. That it’s not just going to work for fifty years and dying

There’s a long stretch of silence between the two of you

And Draco starts to wonder if maybe his Mum had it all wrong

Maybe he should have just offered to make you his spouse, he makes enough money for the both of you- you don’t have to work if you don’t want to when you’re his

He’s internally rehearsing his proposal speech, picking out which moments he should highlight

Which is pretty hard because every moment with you feels like a highlight

“Where would we go?”

Your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but Draco doesn’t overlook the twinkle in your eye

He grins

“Anywhere you want”

You find out pretty fast that Draco is a meticulous planner- everything is carefully decided

“Alright we’ll get off the flight, and we’ll get one of those mu- I mean we’ll get a car from there so we don’t have to worry about transportation-“

Literally everything is reserved, the hotel you’re staying in the city at for the first few nights, the car you’ll be using while you’re in France, the bed and breakfast Draco found out about in a small village in the French country side, even all the restaurants you’ll be eating at

Which is totally fine, some structure isn’t a bad thing

It’s just Draco’s never struck you as someone who plans everything out

“Is everything alright darling? Is this a personality trait of yours I’m just going to have to grow to love?”

You wrap your arms around his torso from the back, your chin resting on his shoulder to glance at the travel documents he’s reviewing

“Oh I never do this when I’m traveling alone- I don’t even take a travel bag most of the time, I can just buy whatever I need when I land- one time I didn’t even take my wallet because your phone is a wallet these days.”

You raise an eyebrow, what a little rich boy

You can’t think of all the times your family packed everything they could possibly need when going on vacation so they wouldn’t have to pay for anything when they got there

“So what’s the difference this time?” You ask, has hitting the quarter of life struck him with a lightening bolt that’s transformed him into a dad now?

“Because I’m going with you”

So everything has to be perfect. You’re taking a whole two weeks off of work, he’s got to make sure you don’t regret it, and give you the best time possible

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on proposing”

You’re only joking, but the disgusted look that crosses Draco’s features makes you flinch

You know it’s probably a little early to mention marriage, it’s only been a year after all, but you would be lying if you said that didn’t hurt

“I would never propose in France (Y/N), I have taste”

That whole country is just overhyped, and Paris is way too dirty - like most cities.

But it’s where you want to go- you like art museums and fresh baked bread so here he is

Going to god damn France

But he’ll be hexed before he proposes to you in that god forsaken country

“Oh so there’s going to be a proposal?”

“Of course there is” he says off handedly, verifying that both of your passports are up to date

And then he realizes what he just admitted and feels a ruby red blush creep onto his face from his neck

“W-wait-“

He turns around to face you, face bright red, only to see you smiling like you’ve just won the lottery

And he should be hopelessly embarrassed,

he’s been trying to play it cool for the last year, to play at your pace in terms of relationship development

Only to let it slip through his fingers in a single moment

But you look so happy to know he see’s a future with you

“Alright, sounds good. Just give me a heads up a few weeks before so I can get a spa appointment to look pretty for all our pictures”

You’re joking.... kind of

You don’t put it past Draco to have a photographer follow you both around and take pictures of the whole engagement thing

Draco’s actually taking your joke quite seriously though, a dopey grin on his mouth

“I’ll give you a hint the weekend before”

That should be enough time to get all your affairs in order

It’ll also give him enough time on how to break to you that he’s a wizard and well- his parents probably hate you

You’re smiling, an embarrassed expression crossing your features as you change the topic to which places you’ll be visiting

But there’s a shadow on Draco’s face

He sighs when you leave, saying you have to go back to your house to pack-

It’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He collapses on his arm chair, twirling his wand so that there’s a glass of fire whisky in his hand

He’s going to have to tell you soon- not just about his wizardry, but also about his family

His Mum’s already got half a guess there’s something going on here - but he bets the worst she believes is that he’s dating someone beneath him, maybe a muggle born at worst

Certainly not an actual muggle

His father’s clueless as always - too busy with his council positions and appearances

His mother will be fine , she would be upset of course, but she would come around eventually

His Father would disown him

He’s fairly confident about that

The second he says he’s in love with a muggle- it’s over for him

His dad might actually curse him when he finds out he’s marrying a muggle- bringing dirty blood into their bloodline

And Draco might curse him back

Because they can say whatever they want about him, but not about you-

Nothing about you is dirty

You’re the purest, kindest, loveliest person he’s ever seen

And he still can’t believe you’re his

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find out Draco booked you both first class seats

Or when you get to the airport and see a Mercedes convertible waiting for you

Or even when you get to the hotel - which turns out to be The Ritz

The tipping point is when you find out the “room” Draco booked is actually the penthouse

“Well that was exhausting, should we take a nap before going to the Louvre?”

You’re sitting on the sofa in the living area, your head in your hands

Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pouring Perrier into two crystal glasses.

“Draco, love, do you remember before we went on this trip, that I insisted paying my portion- even though you said there was no need?”

Draco looks up from the Perrier. But you’re still staring at the ground

“And then when I asked why my portion was so low- you said you got a really great economy deal from a travel package.”

That was the excuse he used wasn’t it

“Well there was a discount travel package, I just didn’t book it.”

Honestly he’s not sure what his end game was here- honestly he was just hoping you would believe this was all included in the package

Your palms are pressed together, your head resting against them

Draco extends a glass of Perrier towards you

You look at it for several long seconds,

he probably got it out of the mini fridge that charges 10x mark up

“I’m paying for our next trip” you say, accepting the glass with a sigh

Draco only grins

“So there’s going to be a next trip?”

You almost snort laughing

“Are you seriously asking me that after you basically proposed to me last week?”

Ah, you’ve got him there

You smile as you tug his towards you, pressing a kiss to his mouth

“Of course there will be you dork”

He smiles as he holds you close, kissing you again

Being in Paris is really cool

You go on a tour of the catacombs

“Watch your step” Draco says, offering his arm for support

“Thanks” you hold his hand as you make your way through the dark space

And the Louvre

“Am I supposed to be feeling something right now?” He asks

You’re both looking at the Mona Lisa, and you’ve got tears in your eyes, feeling very small

You’re almost humbled being in her presence, the painting that has withstood centuries

“Yes” you sniffle, taking the handkerchief Draco’s extended towards you

“You’re a rich kid, aren’t you supposed to be super invested in art and stuff?”

He gives you a mischievous grin

“I look at you everyday don’t I”

You manage a laugh, lightly smacking him in the arm

Things are going really well, you’re both having a really good time, and then something happens-

It’s your last day in the city before you head out to the french countryside,

you and Draco decided you would spend the morning souvenir shopping before heading there in the afternoon

You’ve put in an order for some macrons for your friends and the people at work

“Do you think they’ll still be good by the time we get back home?”

It will be at least a week until you head back, and longer until you see any of your friends

“I think as long as we freeze them” Draco assures

He’ll put a charm on them for good measure

“Malfoy?”

The second Draco hears that voice he goes rigid

You see, being with you for a year has been utter bliss.

Draco’s had a good year, the best year of his entire life-

The thing is though, he got so caught up in who he was becoming-

that he completely forgot who he used to be-

Until this moment

“Weasley. Granger”

Weasley looks the same as ever, flaming red hair and a splatter of freckles across his nose and spilling onto his face

Still that tall, lean, but muscular build he had when he last saw him.

Granger looks great though, she’s got her curls framing her face, smooth dark skin glistening against a clean cut pant suit

“Lovely to see you both”

Draco seems composed

But on the inside he’s on the verge of having a panic attack

Maybe they’ll just give a wave and be on their way

Yes that’s entirely pos-

Nope. They’re walking over to you two

F*ck

“Are you going to introduce us?” You ask with a teasing smile

Oh crap, he forgot the social protocols a situation like this calls for in his panic

“R-right, (Y/N) this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-“

“Actually we’re both Weasley now” Ron says with a proud grin

“- well she was Granger now she’s Weasley too, we um-“

Were sworn rivals. Mortal enemies. Fought on opposite sides of a great and tragic war.

“Went to school together”

He can honestly say that isn’t a lie.

They all did go to school together

A magic school in the mountains of Scotland, where they rode brooms and befriended magical creatures

Somehow he gets the feeling that’s not the type of experience you’re picturing though

To his surprise things are going pretty well, the conversation is mostly revolving around Paris, you and Granger seem to share a similar love for Mona Lisa

“And when you stand in front of her-“ Granger starts

“It’s like she’s judging you!” You finish

The two of you are only a moment away from embracing

Weasley looks like he couldn’t care less about Mona Lisa

And for once Draco thinks they’re in agreement

Maybe it’s because they’re from pureblood families

Because something surviving 500 years isn’t all that big of a deal to wizards

Not when the average wizard can live a few hundred years, his great grandfather even lived until the ripe old age of 652

“So are you two on Holiday?” You ask and Granger shakes her head

“No, we’re actually here for work on behalf of the Au-“

“On behalf of their museum I’m sure” Draco cuts in quickly

He was so comfortable in the fantasy where his previously sworn enemies might become causal aquantinces that he completely forgot there were three wizards and one muggle in this conversation

“”They um-“ Draco clears his throat giving a meaningful look to Granger and Weasley before lowering his voice “they actually work for a rival museum. Managed to get an exhibit from right under me”

The lies just seem to stack on one another.

Draco’s not sure what’s worse- that he’s getting better with coming up with these lies-

“Is that why they aren’t invited to your hangouts with Blaise, Theo and Pansy”

Or that you trust him so much you wholeheartedly believe each and every lie

“That is exactly why they’re not invited”

Some force in the universe must like him, because luckily enough that’s when your order number is called.

“Oh looks like it’s ready, I’ll see you in a bit darling” you press a kiss to his cheek before making your way towards the counter

And Draco’s so caught up in the subtle affection you’ve just shown him he’s completely forgotten all about the situation at hand until Granger clears her throat.

Ah yes, the mountain of lies he’s haphazardly built.

How could he forget

Granger looks like she’s got the gist of the situation,

Weasley on the other hand looks just as dumb as Draco remembers from school

His mouth agape

“Are they a muggle??”

Draco flinches at how loud Weasley says the word Muggle

“Yes, they are could you please keep your voice down”

He looks in your direction

Oh good it looks like you didn’t hear

He turns back to his old enemies

They both look like their mind is broken

“But your family they hate-“

“That’s my parents, that’s not me” Draco snaps quickly

But it was him, wasn’t it

All those times he tormented muggle borns at school, the dark magic artifacts he toyed with-

He looks at Granger

All the times he called her mud blood

He’s not as bad as his parents

-but he’s still not good

“Since I was there I got yours too-“

The second you’re back you can tell something is off

The tension hangs in the air like fog

Draco looks like he’s just seen a ghost, face pale and thin pink lips trembling

“What’s wrong?” You ask

Draco was a monster, that’s what’s wrong

“Nothing,” he puts on his most believable smile “we should get going or it will get dark before we get to the manse”

You nod, taking his hand in yours

It’s trembling

“It was lovely meeting you, maybe we’ll see each other again soon”

Granger who’s been awfully quiet for this whole ordeal smiles

“Yes, I hope we do”

The look Granger gives you is genuine and warm

- like she already considers you a friend

and it makes Draco feel twice as bad

It’s not like anything has really changed as you two drive through the countryside

You’re still joking like you always do,

Draco’s driving and he stops in several places on the way there so you can take polaroids in the French country scenery

But something feels...off

Like he’s just pretending to be happy

You really shouldn’t be surprised when you roll up to a large iron gate,

Draco types in the code into a keypad and they creak as they open revealing a rather impressive winding drive

At the end of which is an absolute unit of a mansion

“This isn’t a bed and breakfast is it?”

For one there’s not even a parking lot, Draco gives you a fleeting look before taking your bags out of the car.

“This is my family’s manse, we would come up here during the summer for vacation”

He was on the fence about bringing you here, but his Mum always had a rule that all dark magic artifacts would be kept away from their vacation home

His father could have free reign over the manse near London, but not here when they were on vacation

“You grew up here?” You say, taking in the fountain, the thirty windows you see in the front face alone, and the massive rose garden to the side

“Not really, we would just come here to vacation, it was really for my parents. I spent most of my time climbing up trees-“

And playing with the house elves, which his mother would later reprimand him for

It was always worse for them though

At least Father pays them a wage now, however meager it may be

“There’s no servants right now though, so it will be just us”

He says it as he leads you through the manse, passing the drawing room, a rather impressive parlor, up a long pair of winding steps into the east wing into a rather lavish room

“I hope you don’t mind staying in my old room, my parents used to use the master and that just seems... icky”

you laugh And he gives you another smile, and this time you know somethings wrong.

“We can go to the village nearby and grab dinner, or we can stay here but I doubt the pantry has-“

“Draco,” you stop him mid speech about getting dinner “What’s wrong?”

Draco does his best to smile for you

“Nothings wrong-“

“No, something is wrong” you cut him off quickly, taking his hand in both of yours

“You’ve been...sad”

that’s what it is, the emotion he’s been trying to cover up

He thought he was covering up his internal turmoil pretty well

Draco won’t lie, the fact that he’s more transparent then he thinks hurts

“Ever since we saw your old classmates at the bakery”

The way he flinches when you mention it tells you all you need to know

You feel a protective flare swell inside you

“Did something happen? Did they do something to you?“

you’re already thinking about how you need to protect you Draco from them, they work in the same industry so they’re bound to cross paths. Maybe-

“I’m the one who did something to them.”

Draco breaks you away from your thoughts

“What?”

“I-“

Draco looks into your puzzled face, and his heart squeezes

He didn’t want you to find out, not like this

Pretty soon you’ll be thrust into his history headfirst-

His hand is held in both of yours,

your eyes are so warm as they look up at him.

And all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve any of this

The truth is he didn’t want you to ever know

“I wasn’t a good person” he croaks

He knows he’s just as much a victim as the others, he’s got the scars and the death eater mark to prove it- both things he didn’t really want

It was coercion, they told him.

He grew up in an environment where he was punished for showing any original thought, his therapist had said

He’s a victim too

But that doesn’t mean it was okay for him to treat people like that- for him to call people that word-

“I was a bully, a monster, I was-”

Draco’s cut off when you pull him into a hug

Draco stumbles back when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” You say

He doesn’t understand why until he see’s the tears drop onto your hair

Oh, he’s crying

“Shh, it’s okay” you hum, holding him close as he sobs into your shoulder

And you two stay just like that for a long time

“I just don’t want you to think less of me” Draco murmurs, you’re both on his bed now, you’re both sitting cross legged across from each other

He looks so ashamed, it’s like he’s admitting he killed someone

In all honestly, you figured something like this might be the case.

Draco’s a rich boy, he doesn’t seem like someone who’s experienced financial struggle,

He’s someone who experienced life with a sense of entitlement

You look at him, rim of his eyes tinged pink and swelling. The almost pitiful sniffle he lets out

But the Draco in front of you isn’t like that, not anymore at least.

His kindness is still a little rough...but it’s there

You know that, you see it every time he picks up on your mood, every time he comforts you when you have a bad day

You’ve seen it during this trip, where he catered everything so you would have a good time

You just have to make him see that now

“All of that, it’s in the past now Draco” you squeeze his hand, and he finally stops looking down and up at you

“You have a past, I do too” you give him a warm smile. “but that’s all behind us now, all that matter is where we’re going from here”

Your reassuring expression and tender words make him feel like he might cry again, but this time for a different reason

“We don’t have to talk about it, not until you’re ready” you tell him

he feels his eyes sting

“I don’t deserve your kindness”

And from another man you would think it��s a plot to earn your sympathy, but looking at Draco you know he means every word

He looks like a broken man

Like he’s haunted, worn down to the bone

So you do the only thing you can think to do, knees pressing into the mattress you hover over him. Your hands cup each side of his face, tilting it up so those brilliant grey eyes are looking at you

“You deserve every part of me my love” you murmur, peppering his face with kisses

Scattering them across his cheeks, his hairline, down his thin nose, and across his jaw

Before finally catching his lips, your mouth gently caressing his

“(Y/N)-“ your name leaves him in a breathless voice- half in want and half concerned

His hand caresses your face, stopping you as you kiss down his neck

He wants to tell you that You don’t have to do any of this just because he’s feeling emotional

But he doesn’t have to say anything, because you understand immediately, giving him a kind smile

“I’m doing it because I want you-“ you take his hand , pressing kisses to the end of his fingertips

“Do you trust me?”

And Draco, who doesn’t trust his voice, can only manage a nod

“I’m going to be good for you” you murmur against his hand, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

Draco’s made love to you countless times, felt your burning skin against his hands so many times he’s lost count.

But it’s never been like this

It’s so....

He looks at you underneath him, your eyes are warm as you look up at him, and full of so much love

It’s.....Comforting.

This time making love to you is comforting.

Your hand presses against his lower abdomen, right above the place you both are connected, and it earns an involuntary shiver from him

But you don’t stop there, your hand trails up his stomach, across his chest, fingers lightly brushing against the nape of his neck before resting on his face

The action, mixed with that warm look in your eyes, feels so tender

“You’re so pretty” You murmur, your thumb rubbing tenderly across his cheek.

Caressing his face.

“My pretty boy Draco”

And he feels emotion well up within him once more.

A tear slipping down his face as he leans down to kiss you

He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve your love

But he’s so grateful that he has it

That he has you

“Being good for him” extends past the bedroom it seems, because the next morning he wakes up to an empty bed, his body littered with kiss marks, a hot bath drawn for him with flower petals scattered across the surface, and a note

‘Took the car to the village, will be back soon. P.S take a bath and relax until I get back, I have your favorite tea in the kettle for when you’re done.’

Draco can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face

“I really don’t deserve you”

You come back only fifteen minutes later, while he’s still soaking in the tub.

You walk over to him wordlessly, rubbing his shoulders as you lean against the rim of the tub.

“How are you feeling today darling?” You murmur, kissing his temple.

“Better now that you’re here.” And he means it, he loves what you’ve done for him, but it’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He takes your hand in his, looking up at you with shining grey eyes.

“Will you join me?”

You laugh, your other hand caressing his face

“I have to go get things ready for our picnic- I thought it might be nice, there’s a place the locals told me about- a hill a few kilometers away from here.”

“That can wait can’t it?” He asks, and when you make no move to undress he adds -

“please?”

He looks like a little boy, and you find yourself relenting, pulling off your sweater with a sigh

The tub is massive, probably half the size of your bedroom, so you give Draco some room, sitting on the other side of the tub

Last night was intense, for you and for him, you don’t want to overwhelm him with too much stimulation

But Draco doesn’t let you stay far away, beckoning you to him. Only satisfied when your back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your chest and stomach

“I’m sorry-“ he starts, but you silence him with a simple squeeze of his hand

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for”

And it’s true. How many times has Draco comforted you- bringing you dinner when you pulled late nights at work, or kissed your tears away?

“It’s nice. Seeing another part of the person I love” you reassure

There’s a moment of silence before Draco opens his mouth again

“When I was in school, I-I -“

“ you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” you reassure,

the two have the rest of your lives to talk about these things, there’s no rush

But Draco shake his head, and offers you a small smile

“I want to talk about it, I want you to know”

And so Draco tells you as much as he can without giving away his secret

He tells you his family comes from old money, and he internalized certain messages from that

“It’s not an excuse,” he clarifies, “but it’s part of the story too”

He tells you how he was a bully all through this childhood and into adolescence.

Even early adulthood.

How he basically tormented the people he bullied-

“Granger... I was terrible to her.” He admits, you’ve since moved away from the bath tub, and you’re sitting in the garden, drinking tea and eating scones. “I called her terrible things”

He means he called her a mudblood, the greatest insult a person can get

You’re thinking he probably called her a b*tch or a c*nt.

Honestly I’m not sure which version is worse

“Did you have a crush on her?” You ask, and Draco sputters. His cheeks blooming red

He remembers being jealous of Granger, she was always at the top of their class, and he always came in second to her.

He remembers getting lectures for it everytime he came home for the holidays

His Father always fuming how Draco was so inept that even a ‘mudblood’ could surpass him.

And some of that did transfer to his dislike for the person

He does remember thinking she looked awfully beautiful at the Yule Ball though, in that pink dress

“She’d look better in green” he had thought and then realizing what he just thought blushed and looked towards his date.

“Maybe I did.” He admits to you, almost a decade later.

And you laugh

“I bet you were a cutie” Draco only blushes even more

What you wouldn’t give to see a teenage Draco, you wonder what it would have been like if you met him when you were younger

How different would things be?

You watch Draco flush bright red, trying to cover his embarrassment with a sip of his tea

Well, the way things turned out isn’t so bad either

You spend the rest of the trip at Draco’s family’s manor, in domestic bliss

You stand on your tip toes, trying to reach a pair of mugs on the top shelf

“Here let me get that” Draco says reaching them with ease while standing behind you

You drink tea in the garden

“Draco darling, will you pass me the preserves?”

You’re both dressed like something out a a historical drama, he’s in a suit and you’ve got on a tilted sun hat and white gloves

Playing like you’re nobility vacationing in the Parisian countryside

Which... Draco sort of actually is

.... let’s not think of that

And go on picnics on the nearby hill

“Oh no” you mumble

“What’s wrong?” Draco asks while setting down the picnic blanket

“I forgot to bring glasses for the wine” you sigh

Draco shrugs

“We’ll just drink from the bottle”

You make a face and he laughs

“What does the thought of an indirect kiss make you nervous?”

You lightly shove him with a laugh

And late nights spent in their family library

“Your family sure has a strange book collection” you say holding up a book titled ‘witchcraft in the mid-1800’s’

Draco scrambles towards you

“Y-yeah that’s probably my dad, he’s kind of interested in that occult stuff...for fun, not like, because he’s apart of a cult or anything”

Not anymore at least

“I wasn’t thinking that he was apart of a cult... but I am now” you joke

You’ve moved on, scanning the rest of their collection, but Draco’s looking at you-

This last week has been like something out of a dream

He can’t imagine how happy he would be to have this everyday

He watches your hand brush against the spine of a book

He extends a hand over your own, stroking your ring finger

“Make sure this finger is empty for me, okay?”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy headcanons #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x muggle reader #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #harrypotter-imaginess

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captainsimagines · 3 years ago

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Eight

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 8 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; extreme canon violence (gun violence, hand-to-hand, baton use, knives); strong language; mentions of drug smuggling, drugs, and human smuggling; mentions of blood and blood loss; major/minor character death (not the mains, don’t worry!); angst; gunshot wounds; heavy alcohol consumption

Word Count: 14,600+

A/N: Listen... you know damn well I had to put some American Pie lyrics in this. The reader’s and Jackeline’s relationship is not modeled after Nat and Yelena lol it was literally the biggest coincidence.

MedBay - The New Compound, 2024, 1:52 pm

“He did what?”

Bruce smiles sheepishly as he lugs Steve’s practically lifeless body onto one of those beige medical beds. Dr. Cho is pacing calmly around the room, getting her instruments cleaned and ready. She tries to ignore the way you’re crowding her, inspecting everything she touches and in turn is going to end up touching Steve.

“He took a bullet for someone.”

“And where is that someone?” you bite. You immediately want to apologize to Bruce for your tone but you’re distracted by the tiny groans of pain coming from the pale super soldier beside you. You have to look away to avoid whimpering yourself, but you can’t exactly make yourself deaf. “Don’t tell me he took a bullet for you.”

Bruce rolls his eyes and steps to the side as Dr. Cho begins cutting away Steve’s pants. “Everyone else is on vacation. He has no one here to take a bullet for besides. It was a shitty liquor store robbery and Steve was, of course, being a hero.”

“Where’s he hit?” you ask, heading over to grab a pair of gloves yourself. No one questions it.

“Femoral artery. Seems like he was plugging his own wound until he could get help.”

Dr. Cho is right. There’s a massive gash in his thigh that’s leaking excessively and the skin surrounding the wound is raised like Steve’s own fingers had plunged so deeply it left an imprint. Not only that, but his hand is covered in his blood. So is Bruce’s, you realize, because he had tried to plug the artery as well.

“How is he not dead yet?” Dr. Cho more mutters to herself than to you guys. Steve’s head is lolling to the side and his lips are an awful shade of white. His eyes are fluttering open and closed… open… closed… and he’s still mumbling random phrases. There’s a rough tug at the bottom of your stomach that pulls and pulls and there’s a weird urge to crawl onto the table to keep Steve warm.

“He needs blood,” you say, even though all parties in the room know that as fact.

Bruce, however, winces. “Sam’s not even in the state right now and I don’t think we have enough time to fly him-”

“Is he Sam’s blood type? What’s his blood type? Why can’t Bucky do it? Bucky’s in Brooklyn, he can be here in five minutes if he runs.”

Bruce starts rummaging through the upper level shelves and freezer cabinets. “Can’t mix the serums. We’ve tried.” He finally finds the blood bags, pulling them all out and spreading them across the clean tables. “It’s - shit - do we not have?”

Dr. Cho is now covered in blood, working as fast as she can to close the wound. “What’s his blood type?”

Bruce repeats it out loud and watches as Dr. Cho’s face falls. “I ran out yesterday. The blood drive isn’t until this weekend. I had a patient come in yesterday, I - I ran out yesterday.”

They seem to be having their own conversation with their eyes and are too focused on each other to see you already stripping your long-sleeve shirt and wrapping that horrible blue rubber band around your upper arm. “Me. Take mine.”

Bruce immediately shakes his head, stuttering as he tries to remove the rubber band. “Nu-uh, I don’t know if you know this but you’re human. I need two bags, three tops. I can’t just take it all from you right now!”

“Then get me some cookies and a juice box. I don’t care how much you have to take to make him speak a coherent sentence. Do me.”

Bruce hesitates but he rushes to the cabinets for the needles, vials, tubes, whatever - “No, do it direct.”

Your words startle the two doctors but they don’t question it. They hook you up and poke the needle in the first vein they find, attaching the tube instead of a single vial and direct it to Steve.

“You sure your blood matches?”

You give Bruce a pointed look as if that isn’t something written on your dog tags or on your weekly personal reports.

In the end, you’re told that you gave him the equivalent of two pints of blood. Not that you were awake for the second anyway but you vaguely remember Steve’s voice ringing in your ears. You’re not awake as he regains consciousness or to witness his very confused glare at seeing you in the bed next to him.

He swears he heard small mumblings… ‘If you die because of some highway robbery, Rogers --- I’m never gonna fucking stop bullying your grave --- haunt it’.... ‘Stay --- with me, please’.... ‘---supposed to apologize first’....

He tests the waters, mumbling a name he only says with annoyance nowadays. But now, it’s gently said. Soft, a whisper that sounds like a fractured hymn.

Present Day, 2025, 12:05 pm

There isn’t a set emotion in the world that seems appropriate. What are people supposed to feel when they’re singled out and chosen to suffer a life of pain? Self-hate? Pity for themselves? Anger? Sadness? Remorse? Nothing?

You really don’t know what you’re feeling. In the middle of rubbing vaseline on your newly acquired cuts and scrapes and bandaging yourself up, biting on a belt as Bucky set your shoulder back in place, and lying with Steve discussing everything and nothing all night after your promise - well, what the hell are you supposed to feel? As inevitable as it was considering he had ordered you shot before, the one feeling you know you feel is betrayed. Because even though Ernesto has proven himself evil time and time again, to his own flesh and blood, there was still a small part in your heart that didn’t think any parent truly wanted to inflict pain on their children. And your heart keeps proving itself wrong again and again.

“You just... jumped out of the car?”

Ramirez’s voice snaps you from your inner thoughts. He was let out of custody this morning. He’s currently filling in anyone who asks about the shipment, about Ernesto’s future plans, about the role he thought he had.

“Against my better judgment, but yeah.”

He chuckles and grins like he’s a kid hearing the best story ever told. “That’s what superheroes do. At least, what I’ve seen in the movies. John Wick, Bond, esos tipos.”

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, Omar,” there’s a teasing tone, “but I’m a fucking Avenger.”

That makes him laugh louder and in turn pulls one from you. “Ya se, ya se. I’ve known you since you were born. It’s weird hearing stories about you saving the world and jumping from bombed cars.”

“Mm, wait until you hear about that time I went into space and landed on another planet. Or time traveled. Take your pick.”

He’s stunned into silence and after a few more praises, he lets you return to typing out your report. There are plenty of other agents around for him to busy himself with. The base is tiny and not at all what you expected, but it’s secure enough to fit Torres, Sam, Bucky, and about fifteen other agents as they prepare for tonight. The plan you and Steve outlined was simple: attend the wedding, butter everyone up, send Steve away to help Ernesto retrieve and move the shipment, Scott and Sam will infiltrate, Bucky would be on standby to help you fight, and the rest of the team at base will begin arrests and sweeps. If everything goes according to plan, at least.

It’s easy to speak negatively about these things - there really were only two ways this could go.

You finish your report and go to stand, only realizing a minute later walking through the base that Ramirez is following you. You send him a funny look over your shoulder and he returns with a small smile of his own.

“Tengo preguntas!”

You stop and let him catch up. “Hmm?”

“Okay,” he starts, motioning his hands wordlessly until he could form them. “Are you and the Captain actually... juntos? Or just Avenger partners?”

“That’s personal, Omar,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “But I guess? That’s weird discussing with you.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s okay, I was just curious. So, him being mad was just an act? He doesn’t really hurt and threaten you, no?” He’s treading lightly, but you can already see the cartel mind turning. He would order Steve’s execution if he had to, even if he believed it to be morally wrong in some situations.

“Never. It was just an act for Ernesto.”

“Ah, Dios. Thank goodness.”

“Yeah, keep your men in line. It’s fine.”

He chuckles at that. “And the other Avengers?”

“They’re my family, Omar,” you grin wide, waking slower for the old man to keep up. “They would never hurt me.”

“That’s good, but not what I was asking.”

“Oh?”

“What are they like?”

Handing your report to one of the agents at a handful of monitors, you laugh loudly. “Do you want to meet them officially?”

“Aye, I know my daughters would like that...”

You raise an eyebrow.

“But I would like to meet them, too.”

“That’s what I thought. C’mon.”

The rest of the team are all relaxing and discussing the past days events in the lounge area, which is really just a glorified break room. Bucky’s still in his morning sweats same as Scott, Torres is already suited up, and both Sam and Steve are wearing their Avenger gear (minus Sam’s wings and Steve’s battered shield). Steve is the first one to notice you enter and he instantly gets up from his chair to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Gross,” Bucky mumbles.

“You’ve been trying to get me a girl for over ninety years, Buck. And now that I’ve finally got someone who likes me back, you bully me for it?”

“Who’s bullin’? I said the same thing when Agent Carter smooched you in the weapon’s room and you thought you were alone.”

You pat Steve’s shoulder. “Think about it, Rogers. When Bucky settles down with someone, you have free reign.”

Steve pulls a thin smile and glances back at Bucky. “I’ll make them hate you.”

“Love and hate are the same thing, pal. It worked out for you two.”

“Okay, we’re done. Everyone, Omar wanted to formally introduce himself.”

Ramirez gives a shy wave. Torres returns it. It’s kind of hilarious to witness. Here you all are, Avengers and some standing over six feet with one of the most wanted drug lords in the world, and the all mighty drug lord is shy.

“I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” You notice how when Ramirez speaks to strangers or those he deems good people on his side, his accent is a little thicker. It’s like he wants to speak only in Spanish other than the Spanglish you were all accustomed to. “But it really is an honor to meet you all.”

Scott is the first to stand and shake his hand. “Sorry I pointed my gun at you, man. Habit.”

Ramirez chuckles, “Sorry I broke into your room.”

Steve interjects, “Thank you, though. For telling us what more we’re fighting for.”

Ramirez nods, a solemn look spreading over his face. “The minute I found out, I didn’t know who to tell. I’m lucky you were never truly on his side.”

“And what will you do after all this is over?” Bucky stands. “How do we know we can truly trust you?”

Ramirez sneaks a glance at you and you raise your hands. “Hey, I’ve got the same questions as him.”

Ramirez must know he isn’t getting out of this one because he answers quickly. “Drugs have a market where people choose. I just meet supply and demand protocols. I don’t do the unnecessary violence or blackmail. There is no need to. People will always want drugs.”

There’s a round of agreement throughout the small room. Ramirez continues, “But smuggling humans? There is no choice, nothing moral about it, it’s evil.”

“But people get addicted to drugs. They die from them everyday,” Sam argues.

“I produce and deal what you American’s call weed. Ernesto does the big stuff, as does White. I’m,” he laughs a little. “I’m their weed guy.”

“That is true,” you confirm. You’ve moved and packaged Ramirez’s product before. “Literally just weed.”

Everyone seems deep in thought, like their processing Ramirez’s words and the weight behind them. Ramirez ran with the big boys and was the biggest distributor of marijuana in Mexico and America alike, but he never messed with any other product. Besides producing, selling, and smuggling illegal weed, his only other crimes included conspiring with Ernesto on how to get the product over state lines.

“Okay,” Steve starts. “So how is tonight gonna work? We have to discuss that.”

Ramirez bows his head. “You’ve allowed me safety, you’ve listened to me speak, and you’re saving both my life and my daughter’s. If you must arrest me, then you arrest me.”

“The minute you’re transferred to a prison with less security, Ernesto’s men will get you,” you reason, already shaking your head no.

Ramirez gives a nonchalant shrug, “But you’ll get him and White. That’s all that matters.”

You look over to Steve for some other ideas, but like you he doesn’t have any. No one seems to have any.

Torres matches his shrug and his voice is small as he speaks, almost like his next idea is insane. “We can always put him in the Raft.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide.

“That’s where all the enhanced humans go, no?” Ramirez is stunned. “Do I count?”

“We’ve got no idea,” Steve rubs at his chin, looking at you for confirmation he knows you don’t have. “But it’s an idea.”

The plan is no longer singular. Fury had sent his best field agents for the job, the ones with the best aim, the ones with great strategic planning. Although you and Steve were still in charge, it was no longer just your mission. Your mission was to arrest the big three, big four when including Seda. That was it.

The plan goes like this: half the team will be focused on the venue itself, hidden in the shadows and monitoring the big three as well as your mics, and will aid you in the physical fight and arrests. Some are on the ground while others in the sky. Afterwards, they’ll sweep the estate and collect stolen property or priceless artworks. The other half is split into two, where one of those halves will be spread out for miles to capture anyone that might slip through, like guests who were on the most wanted list or guests that have helped Ernesto in the past. The other part of that half will intercept the shipment (once Steve radios in the location), save the hostages, and shut down the routes.

They instruct Ramirez to call Ernesto and to ask him if there’s a vegetarian menu offered. Ernesto responds with only a muttered groan and in a wild turn of events, asks if Ramirez can call you to make sure you arrive earlier than expected to make sure Jackeline walks down that aisle. He’s completely serious. Not only does Ramirez play along, but Ernesto doesn’t give any indication that he knows about the car bomb. So the team makes a judgement call: this was only Seda’s doing.

Ramirez is then told that the Raft is not an option; both the US and Mexican government want him and the only reason he hasn’t been arrested is because he still has many cards to play. The more he helps, the less time he’ll get.

One thing is known: this is the biggest mission anybody has been on in over two years.

Bucky remembers things in bits and pieces. Sometimes he’ll be minding his own business, enjoying this new world and the countless amenities it offers, and remember exactly where he was on the hottest day of the year in 1936. He remembers the blistering heat, boiling his once pale skin and giving him that beautiful olive he was now known for. He remembers the way his tongue dried almost instantly the moment he stepped outside and how he asked his next door neighbor, Ms. Kranshall, for a cup of water before work. He remembers her massive square glasses and how they nudged the tip of her nose as she nodded sweetly at him. He remembers her high but smoky voice and the way she patted his shoulder as he drank the cup down.

The first time he remembered Natalia was around the same time he remembered Steve. He sees a flash of ember in strands, speed almost matching his, and he sees those panicked green eyes he was once all too familiar with.

She was twelve when he first met her, forced to throw her around like a ragdoll until her ribs were bruised and her spirit broken. He went again and again, and when he wasn’t forced he would teach her how to fight properly and how to shield her most vulnerable areas. Scared as she was, she never showed it in those private moments, and decided to follow his lead in most things. And she learned to be fierce, no matter how hard he hit, and he still remembers the look in her eyes and the pull of her young face as they yanked him away for cryo before he could congratulate her on winning her first fight.

The first time he remembered you was when you leapt onto T’Challa’s back as the chase neared, tackling the young prince become king, and watched with sad eyes as both him and Steve climbed onto the jet for Siberia. He remembers your clumsy punches when you fought him with half his brain and how he kicked you so hard you flew. He also remembers how when you took that kick for Steve, the sound of his wail almost deafened the soldier.

Everytime he remembers something, a memory, no matter how strangled it may arise, the twinge in his chest is good. He’s remembering. He’s James Buchanan Barnes.

He feels that same twinge when a face full of freckles greets him at the entrance, documents raised above her head in a show of selfish glee, and a pep in her step that tells him she remembers him too.

“Sergeant Barnes!” Maribel gives a toothy grin. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Bucky tilts his chin up and rests the tip of tongue between his incisors. “What? Hydra wasn’t enough for you, you gotta infiltrate the Mexican cartel, too?”

She scoffs playfully, “Other way ‘round.”

He snatches the documents from her hand and leads her inside. “I hope you got something here. Steve put a lotta faith in you.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N does. That’s enough for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she snatches the documents back to turn the pages herself. “Follow me. We need to chat in private.”

“Shouldn’t we get-”

“I’d rather you know, and you tell them later. No audience.”

This causes Bucky to tense. He follows her in further and closes the door behind them both.

The left side of her face had less freckles back in 2012, he remembers, and now she’s covered in them.

Bucky remembers things slowly, but he remembers them.

It’s cold outside, air bruising your skin, and there are hundreds of goosebumps now erupting. You joke with yourself that in the end, you’ll most likely have to ask Steve for his jacket and ruin your overall look but hey, you’ll be warm. The wedding doesn’t start until five in the evening and it’s one’oclock right now, and there are white clouds in the sky instead of gray and the songs of some desperate birds searching for their lunch near your ears. It at least drowns out the constant noise of the agents hammering away at each other and preparing for tonight.

It makes your stomach roll: these agents are putting their lives at risk because of you.

You stepped through the discarded papers and tried not to leave your footprint anywhere important. His office was empty, left in a state of purgatory, and his lamp was still on. It’s like he stepped out for a minute.

You picked everything up: pens, computers, books, chairs. Under everything, there was dust.

He really did die.

As much as you wanted to step on his remains and spit on him, you couldn’t. The gash in your heart was still open and bleeding for everyone else and there was no room left for anger. You were indifferent, for lack of a better word. Frustrated?

A paper crumbles outside his office. No one had followed you in - a week after the snap and every single person on earth was still searching for loved ones or running from something - so no, no one else was supposed to be here. Mexico had been hit hard, it’s government shattered, and every cartel was picking up pieces or tearing the world further apart. There was no line anymore.

You twisted around and aimed your gun at the door, immediately lowering it when you saw Natasha raise her hands. She had this embarrassed smile on her face like she knew she had been caught.

“I meant to say hi over your mic. But you turned it off.”

You sighed deeply and dramatically shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I’m here. Guess who’s not.”

Natasha only nods and steps further into the room. She looks over the same things you did. “He’s gone? Good, good riddance.”

“But his death means nothing if trillions of others died also. It’s so fucking typical of him. If he’s going down, he takes everyone else with him.”

“He didn’t take them, Y/N.”

“I want to be happy,” you spit out through clenched teeth. “I want to feel relief. The fucking bastard is finally gone and I can’t even enjoy it properly.”

Natasha takes one more look at the hallway before letting her guard down almost completely. She envelopes you in a hug, squeezing tighter each time your breath hitches. “Hey, listen to me.”

“He’s gone.”

“I know,” Natasha’s voice is low and reminds you of the gentle hum of record static. “He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But everyone-”

“No,” she pulls away and places both her palms over your neck. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

It takes a while before you’re nodding along, repeating her words gently.

“You’re more than the pain he inflicted. You’re more than his name or crimes. You’re worth more than his impact ten times over. He can’t hurt you anymore. I know everyone’s gone, and we’re going to fight like hell to bring them back, but in this little moment, this little thread you can pull - pull it all out - he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would you do without Natasha?

The grass beneath your bare feet calms you down. It’s tendrils are a little ticklish and there are droplets of silver morning water fog melting as they touch your skin. Focusing on the feeling isn’t enough to get you out of your own head and for a wild second, you think the God of Thunder is going to come up behind you and hold your hand. It’s peaceful out here, but what you wouldn’t give to see him again.

The day before Steve and Carol returned the stones, he had been here. He did as he promised: the second the flood of happiness extinguished like a Christmas candle, he found you settled in the mass of pillows with only instrumental music playing. He left for two cups of tea, sat in silence with you as you both drank, and whispered a strangled ‘I’m sorry’ as if you weren’t meant to hear it. Apologizing for someone who did come back, and you for someone who didn’t.

‘You know I don’t regret what we did. We brought everyone back.’

‘Don’t try and justify your sadness. Not at all, not with me.’ His voice was stern and his eyes serious.

‘I’m sorry he didn’t come back.’

His eyes had closed, as if he was expecting that apology, and he looked out the window where the sun was just barely rising, shining on him and him alone. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

There are footsteps, though. Heavy ones, footsteps that announce his upcoming presence on purpose so as to not startle anymore. Bucky was too generous for his own good.

“Had a visitor.”

You remain silent as Bucky sits next to you, looking up from his spot and expecting you to sit as well. “There’s water on the grass.”

“There’s water in the air in this godforsaken state, now sit down.” A push of laughter escapes your lungs but you follow his instructions anyway.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, admiring the way the pine trees bend slightly with the gusts of wind and how the birds have changed their pitch. You expect Bucky to speak first so you occupy that time by playing with the strands of wet grass.

“In 1997, I was taken out of cryo for a mission.”

You wince on accident. This wasn’t how you expected the conversation to start.

Bucky continues, “There was this man south of the border.” He points south to prove his point. “Hydra wanted to take him out because he was interfering with the drug routes they were monitoring.”

“Hydra controlled drug routes?”

“Hydra had their heads in plenty of places. They didn’t control them, but they did monitor them.”

You shake your head in understanding. “And this man?”

Bucky sighs heavily. His eyes are focused on the gentle yellows behind the trees instead of you. “He was told to take out another man traveling through and out one of these drug routes. He made a different call.”

“Who was your visitor?”

“Maribel.”

“Wha-?” You go to stand but Bucky gently pushes your left shoulder back down. “Why are you telling me this and not her?”

“She wanted me to tell you. And I guess, in turn, you tell Steve and the rest of the team.”

“Bucky,” your voice trembles on accident. “Tell me.”

“The man I was ordered to take out was Maribel’s brother.” He chuckles at your frantic shuffling and pushes you down again. He continues, “Hey, it’s okay. She never knew him and she doesn’t hate me for what I was.”

You don’t really believe him. But his face isn’t telling you otherwise. You're stuck between wanting to dig for more information and giving him a giant bear hug. “Did you… succeed?”

“The soldier ever rarely lost.”

Your face contorts. “Bucky…”

“He disobeyed orders, Hydra didn’t like that since it disrupted the drug routes, and so I was sent to help. Hydra didn’t seem to care about the man he let go, though.” Bucky shrugs and starts playing with the grass behind your hand. “The thing was, Maribel’s brother had been doing this a long time. Ernesto was on Hydra’s radar but in a good way. Maribel’s brother was also given very specific orders from one other person - their mother.”

The story pieces are all discarded haphazardly, pieces that are from different boxes and don’t seem to entangle properly.

“She told him to let the man go. Because this man was an American, and killing an American on Mexican soil was something that was impossible to hide from the claws of the law. So, this American made it back on US soil safely and was never heard from again. Until 1998, when he tried to re-enter Mexico under a false name but with one purpose. To see his newborn baby girl.”

The yellow behind the pine trees fades into orange.

“Are you saying-?”

“Maribel’s mother kept everything your mother left her when she tried to cross the border herself. Your real birth certificate, her real birth certificate, you.”

Bucky looks over finally, sad smile and all. “Maribel thinks, and now I think, that Ernesto isn’t your real father.”

There are so many questions formulating at the base of your skull that you don’t really take the time to absorb the news. “What did she bring you? What was in those papers?”

Bucky seems startled that your reaction wasn’t one of shock. “Like I said, Maribel’s mother kept a lotta things.” He pauses momentarily before speaking again. “Blood results was one of them. Still trying to authenticate them. The American was a doctor, after all.”

“A doctor,” you whisper.

“A doctor. He changed his name but he’s alive. Maribel’s checked.”

“Why would she tell me this now? Why now just hours before the wedding? Isn’t that why you guys didn’t tell me about what was really in the shipment?”

Bucky winces and his expression tells you he’s sorry.

You continue, “Why now? Why does it even matter anymore?”

He inspects you quickly, scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. “You’re okay? I thought this would surprise you more.”

The chuckle you release is dry, kind of harsh. “It actually answers a fuckload of questions. Like, number one, why he fucking hates me.”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “You think he knows?”

“If he doesn’t, then he’s a super fucking asshole instead of just a fucking asshole.”

Bucky pauses again and smiles up at the sky. The clouds are white and extra large today, and he suddenly remembers the taste of that mini popcorn he had bought and shared with his little sister Becca… Becks… while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the theater. The salt and butter had stuck to Becca’s fingers and she had wiped them on Bucky’s sweater. He remembers scolding her for that but giving her a napkin in between his giggle fit. He feels the same swell in the meat of his heart listening to you. “We don’t deserve you. You’re like the moon. Always there, shaping yourself into what that person needs, crater after crater beat into you and yet, you move the tides.”

The little snort that leaves your nose hurts a little. “That’s pretty damn poetic for this moment of ‘you’re not the father!’”

Bucky bites his lip and smiles toward the yellow and orange hues. “Like the moon.”

The hotel had replaced the door, no questions asked. The reason Sam decided to bust open the door instead of using the very functional key you had given Torres? No one knows. But the poor receptionist was told that you couldn’t possibly change rooms because this was top secret business and you absolutely wanted to slap Scott upside the head for worrying her. So they fixed the bolts and gave you all new keys.

Didn’t matter much anyway since you weren’t sleeping here tonight. You had already packed and made the beds.

You lay your dress and Steve’s dress attire on the respective beds. The dress sent over was a backless red silk, spaghetti strapped and slit on the left side - you’ve wanted to wear it since it arrived when Scott did.

Steve knocked before entering the room. You almost laughed at the gentlemanly aspect of it. “Thought for sure they’d have kept you for another hour at least.”

“I gotta change sometime. That your dress?” Steve shrugs off his uniform and climbs on top of his freshly made bed.

“That’s my dress. Sort of skimpy for a wedding, no?” You hold it up to show him the front and back.

“Does ‘skimpy’ mean bad?”

“Means slutty.”

He gives you this disappointed look, like he’s judging your vocabulary. “I wouldn’t use that word. So no.”

You silently apologize and move the dress over to the end of your bed. Everyone else was also getting ready for tonight. Agents were posing as local police, many infiltrated the wait staff, suits were being double-checked for any malfunctions. There was so much going on, but all was relaxed in your room. Steve smiles at you from his bed, head resting in his palm as he leans up to stare at you. It’s impossible not to blush under his stare, so you move to climb into his bed. You lay down with your feet to his head, the sides of your hips pressing together; just two upside down puzzle pieces. He chuckles and goes to lay on his back, right arm coming up to lay rested on top of your right thigh.

“All this week I thought I wasn’t ready.” You’ve had no more nightmares. “But I am. I’m ready to end this.”

He runs his fingers delicately along your thigh. “I’m ready to help.” He sighs deeply and cranes his neck to try and meet your gaze. “We’ll make sure they get maximum time.”

“You know that’s not our call.”

“Still.”

You rest for another few minutes, gentle touches calming you. His body is so warm, emitting sweet thoughts like the beginning of spring heat, and it’s impossible not to curl up into it. Steve breaks the comfortable silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You suck in a breath and tell him the truth. “That in the matter of like… five days, you and I are basically lovers now.”

“Lovers?”

“Lovers.”

He laughs out loud and goes to sit up. “I intend on taking you out when we get back home.”

Lifting your head, you rest on your elbows and grin at him. “Oh? And where are you planning on taking me?”

He thinks for a second before pressing his lips together and giving up. “I have to ask Peter or Wanda. I have no idea where you go during the day to eat.”

You laugh, “Seriously? I could’ve sworn you tagged along once or twice.”

“Nope. I always refused.”

You frown slightly, “Riiight.” Not wanting to rehash the reasons why, you try to soften any wrong feelings about what that implies. “I’m sure you’ve been, though. I take Bucky places, too. Ask him.”

“Mmm, I have my pride. Can’t have Bucky thinkin’ he knows more about my girl than I do.”

You smile largely now and hope no lipstick rubbed off on your teeth. “Your girl?”

Steve averts his eyes like he’s just now asking for your name and if you’d like to go dancing. There’s a beautiful scarlet glow painting his pale cheeks. “Like I said, I’m taking you out and asking properly.”

“We’ve already surpassed third base. I remember it vividly.”

His smile falls comically and he turns to grab a throw pillow to smack you with it a couple times. “Crude! Crude as always. Goddamn.”

“I’m sorry! Hey, I’m sorry!”

He stops his attack and pulls you into his chest. He warms your back instantly. “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

“I really, really like french fries,” you hum lightly and tilt your head back to lean into his shoulder.

“That narrows it down, thanks.”

You chuckle due to his sarcastic tone. He rubs his hands up and down your arms. An idea formulates while in the warmth of his body. “You know what I really want to do after we finish with this?”

“What’s that?”

You tell him honestly. “Rent a cabin. Spend a Christmas there, maybe. Catch some fuckin’ fish. Experience the snow properly.”

His eyebrows furrow like he’s dissecting such a claim. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug, “Sounds cool though, right?”

“Got room for one more?” He looks down to meet your gaze and there’s a glint of hope shimmering in the blue of his eyes.

“Nat… Natasha.”

Natasha took in a sharp exhale as she lifted her head from the desk, left cheek numb and pink. Steve shot her a funny grin and continued shaking her shoulder until she fully opened her eyes. She slaps his hand away with a huff of laughter.

“Come here to do your laundry? You know, there’s only so many times I can help prevent shrinking shirts.”

Steve scoffs, “I used to do laundry by hand. I can figure out a few buttons.”

“You would think.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with the palm of hand before speed-walking into the kitchen. “It’s one of those days.” He opens the high cabinets and pulls a few vodka bottles.

Natasha pushes down whatever was starting to eat at her. She calms her deep breaths and rises from her chair. No words needed to be exchanged. She makes her way over to pull two glasses from the same high cabinets.

Steve watches her a little hesitantly, but she has that lopsided smile that pinches through only one cheek and her eyes are the slightest bit swollen from her power nap, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to the other side of the kitchen, that lopsided grin gracing her bare feet. Steve fumbles through a few cleaning supplies and some plastic bags before he finds the bottle.

“I hid it after… after Thor had that meltdown a year ago.”

Now, he was second guessing. It was a small bottle, only half left, but half a bottle of Asgardian liquor was enough to knock the God on his knees. For Steve, a few sips would do the same. But he needed it, he needed it, god help him. It’s been four years, he needs it. “Be my designated driver?”

“How about you spend the night? Y/N wanted to start a new show anyway.”

“I’ll be passed the fuck out during the opening credits.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Steve sighs and pops open the bottle. Natasha puts her hand up to stop him from pouring, “Check under that sink again.”

His eyebrows pinch together but he does as instructed. More cleaning products… more cleaning products. He tilts his head to look at the corners and there it was: a small, pink paper airplane taped mid-flight. Steve hunched his shoulders to grab it and crawled out carefully. “You know, you’re not supposed to tell me where you hide them.”

“Well, I felt bad! I’ve found like fifteen of your blue ones and how many do you have of mine?”

“That’s besides the point-”

“Say it. You’ve found six.”

His cheeks turn hot. “I’m not here all the time.”

“Excuses.”

“I leave mine in good spots. You probably got better eyes or something.”

Natasha laughs, loud and from her chest. “Sure. But hey - I’ll promise you somethin’.”

Steve pours the Asgardian liquor into his glass and straight vodka into Natasha’s. “What do you have in mind?”

“You find more than me by the end of this year, and I’ll take that vacation.”

Steve takes his first sip and tries not to pull a hard face. “You’re on. But what if you win?”

Natasha raises her glass and clinks it with his. He wants to apologize for forgetting to toast but her eyes are playful and forgiving. “You come with me. I’m not the only one who needs it.”

“So, I win regardless?”

She takes a sip and pulls a funny face. “Easiest battle, don’t ya think?”

They’re off their right minds twenty minutes into drinking and the common area is chaos. Pillows are thrown, the TV somehow ends up with dozens of fingerprints, and they’ve broken a couple flower pots. The cushions of the couch know Natasha’s bare feet and Steve’s boots; the walls fail to constrict their loud singing; Rhodey has already snuck past them to get himself a snack undetected.

‘And so I cry sometimes when I’m lyin’ in bed, just to get it all out what’s in my head!’

‘Hit the high note, Rogers!’

‘When you do, I will!... I scream from the top of my lungs-’

‘What’s goin’ on? And I say, ‘hey!’ ‘hey!’ I say ‘hey!’ What’s goin’ on?’

Steve’s still clear-headed enough to twirl Natasha around. She’s flexible enough to climb onto his shoulders.

‘I pray every single day - for a revolution!’

She’s starting to slur her words and Steve wonders if that blond streak in her hair was there last week.

‘The story of my life! I take her home,

I drive all night to keep her warm and time,

Is frozen!

The story of my life, I give her hope,

I spend her love until she’s broke inside!

The story of my life.’

She can longer feel her toes but seeing Steve let go makes her so incredibly happy and breaks her heart. I needed this too, she thinks.

‘So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die!”’

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would Steve do without Natasha?

“You wanna come?”

“Sure. I’ll cut down the trees for wood. Have a real fireplace.” He’s serious, you realize. Like, really truly serious.

Your heart swells with excitement and some other feeling you can’t quite place. But it’s good, like really good. The sigh you release is full of sweet wonder. “A real Christmas tree.”

Steve tightens his grip around your arms. “December’s right around the corner. Trees should be ready and standing tall.”

It’s almost too much to imagine. You have the sudden urge to talk specifics, to plan out this vacation. A beautiful, rustic cabin with only a coffee maker brought from the outside century, knitted quilts, real snow, Steve’s body heat, Christmas lights… inviting Sam, Scott, Wanda, Peter, and Bucky down for Christmas dinner and presents. A whole sleepover filled with ghost stories, candle burning, board games, Christmas movies. You’re up and tucking your knees under yourself to look down at Steve in an instant. “You’d throw on that checkered shirt, grow out your beard even more, and chop down a few trees for me? With me?”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Steve says, eyes crinkling. For a second, he’s worried you’ll realize that he’s quoted your letter. But that same moment, you’re giggling with excitement over your future plans.

“Well, we lasted a week here without killing each other. The holidays always hold a few surprises.”

Steve picks up another pillow.

Business is not conducted during the church service. It feels normal, with half the guests attending the service and watching the happy couple exchange vows, while the other half only arrives for the party.

Jackeline’s dress is modern with a mix of vintage - simple, with long sleeves of lace and fabric that isn’t entirely white but with hints of beige; the dress dips lower in the back than it does in the front, and it’s tight near the waist but loose as it drapes down her long legs. Her hair is left loose and her make-up is heavy, and she illuminates under the sun rays that burst through stained cathedral glass. You don’t even pay mind to Ernesto and Seda seated in the aisle in front of you - not when Jackeline looks the way she does.

As the service ends, Steve tells you to wait until most of the guests exit. The priest eyes him warily, inspecting his young face and build and obvious persona. He says nothing, but he places a gentle hand over the cross on his chest as he follows the guests out. Steve stands, and out of respect dips his fingers into the holy water provided near the heavy wooden doors. He signs the father, the son, and the holy ghost and dips his fingers in again to sign the same on you. With a silent thank you and tender wipe to your forehead, you don’t question it. He’s not Catholic, or at least you don’t think, but you know he does it for what’s to come. No matter your beliefs, he just wants something, someone, to protect you. You turn back to the cathedral and grip the door as you bend down to one knee and tip your head.

Everything is grander, that’s for sure. The decorations are tripled; the violet lights are reflecting like diamonds off every marble and glass surface; the chandelier’s are no longer gold sculptures but diamond; the clay flowers hanging from the ceiling yesterday are now a part of the centerpieces, squeezed in with the largest bouquet of roses and violets; the live bands (because of course there are two) are each still setting up as everyone is getting seated; and there are about fifty round tables circling the large dance floor. There’s still a nice view of the lake and the pine trees ahead, and the tarp was abandoned as there was no rain in the forecast. All in all, and there were a thousand other things you could focus on but didn’t have the energy to, everything was beautifully put together.

Jackeline wasn’t lying when she said half of Mexico was attending. Besides family, there were celebrities in attendance, famous musicians who were simply guests and not performing, family of some of the other biggest drug lords from both countries (minus Europe), and a couple politicians who dipped before the new couple even walked through the doors after seeing Steve. But Steve worked his magic like he had yesterday and had everyone eating out of the palm of hand in pure amazement. He even had a famous actress hanging off his shoulder in under three minutes. Walking away to go congratulate Jackeline, Steve doesn’t miss the quick, sarcastic flick of your middle finger aimed in his direction.

“You’d tell me if you needed my help, right?” Jackeline asks after a while, bottom lip dripping champagne. She wipes it gingerly, careful not to smudge her pink lipstick.

“I would if there was anything wrong,” you respond truthfully. She pauses to swallow her sip and squints. She follows your gaze to Steve, whose right arm is being tugged by a girl who looks about twelve with five multi-colored bows trailing down her french braid, and who is also trying hard not to blush at the very attractive actress he can’t seem to get rid of.

“You’re going to stop him, aren’t you?”

You glance to your left, but it isn’t really a question. Jackeline knows. “Yeah.”

She nods and tilts her chin up, eyes still on Steve. “Make him watch as you burn it down.” You know she’s referring to Ernesto. She continues, “Every last bit of it.”

Smiling down at your feet, you raise your glass at nothing in particular. Just to salute the night air and whoever is watching. A few seconds pass as you both watch the guests enjoy the music and appetizers. Jackeline shuffles in her heels but she doesn’t seem to want to leave your side just yet. “You run, you understand?”

She’s only momentarily startled by your words. “Okay.”

“I never meant to leave you here, Jackie. I just had to find a way out first.”

“You found a loophole,” she chuckles, but the next moment she’s serious. “There is no way out.”

“Might not be,” you admit, downing your glass in one shot. “But I know this. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

You don’t exchange more than a few words with Steve before he’s called by Ernesto’s men and motioned toward those massive dry lava rock doors; doors that don’t muffle sound but are strong enough to withstand a bullet wound. You watch him leave with them, and he shoots you a smile over his shoulder to simply look at you. Your eyes swell only slightly, burning the corners and blurring everything. He’s bright and brilliant, walking head first into Hell and shining like the bolts of Zeus.

Steve has faced giants before, from all backgrounds and all worlds. He has blocked their punches, taken near mortal injuries; stared them in the face with every ounce of anger and determination his cells could produce. There was always this whispered voice in his head that warned him of the last day he would pick up that shield. In 1945, the voice was loud and raging as he drove that nosediving plane into the Arctic. Over the last few years, however, the voice had quieted and let Steve ponder his fate himself. Steve swears the voice, or rather his own conscience, is getting tired.

He listens intently, responding only when spoken to, and prays his mic is picking up every bit of this conversation. Ernesto commanded the room as he screamed orders in both English and Spanish. His men fell in line; some as determined as the old man, some quiet, some bothered. Didn’t matter what the orders were. Steve noticed the few who would glance at one another and speak their distaste with their wandering eyes. And when Ernesto would speak directly to Steve, the same men would pinch their lips into a thin line and glare.

The shipment had arrived mid-conversation and as men were sent out to do their jobs, Ernesto kept Steve behind. I need you to stay with me until the shipment is secure and can be moved - you’re my bodyguard, Ernesto had told him, confident and only slightly bending his back in discomfort from the weight of the day. Steve agrees, and hears Bucky mention how they have eyes on the shipment from the sky.

Steve stays by Ernesto’s side even when Ramirez is called in. He’s prepared for a bloodbath, for two big men to cement their graves in this tiny office, but it doesn’t happen. Or at least, it doesn’t happen yet. Ernesto regards Ramirez as an old friend and finally trusts him enough to tell him what the shipment contained. Steve isn’t surprised, however, when Ernesto takes nasty satisfaction at Ramirez’s horrified expression. Because even though Ramirez had already known, the confirmation adds a multitude of terror. Steve can feel his palms sweating.

As expected, Ernesto tells Ramirez that he plans to use his lands for his gain. The safe thing to do would have been to agree, to nod along, and to live in the knowledge that the shipment most likely wouldn’t head out. But Ramirez, for some reason Steve can’t fathom, stands up and says no.

Steve understands now; the odd shaking of your shoulders even when your face was completely blank and emotions calm. He watches the beads of sweat drip from Ernesto’s forehead onto the tip of his nose; he watches the way his chest heaves as his voice becomes louder; he watches until he can’t take anymore and he enlarges the shield with Scott’s tech and tells Ernesto to move away from the other man. Steve understands now - the man really is scary, even if he wants to admit it or not.

“You really are a phenomenal actor.”

Swaying slowly, you try not to step on Seda’s feet as he guides you across the dance floor. The music is calmer than it was five minutes ago, the guests are enjoying dinner and conversing, and Steve had told you fifteen minutes ago that he would be right back. Ernesto had sent you a malicious wink, but you knew better. Steve’s name was written in blue and Ernesto’s real target had to be you.

“Acting with what? Acting that I enjoy this dance? Acting like I respect you?” Your upper lip twitches into a teasing smile. “Or acting like I don’t know it was you who planted that bomb?”

He matches your smile, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes. His grip around your waist tightens. “Acting like you’re really on our side.”

Lowering your voice just a fraction, you lean in, top of your head level with his chin. “I’m on Ernesto’s side. You almost had me and my Captain blown up.”

His left hand is settled on your shoulder and he uses the opportunity to dig his nails in. All around him, his men are watching. “How did you get away?”

You give a dry laugh. “You think that was my first bomb? It was childsplay.”

Seda scoffs, “You speak of this Avenger business like I don’t know who you are. You’re still that scared little girl who hid in her room when alien’s fell from the sky.”

“I may be. But there’s a difference between you and I. I actually stared them in this face and won.”

“The second time, maybe”

Sticks and stones, but goddamn did those words always hurt. Blame goes a long way but you and your team are used to keeping it close to home. “Why do you want me dead?”

His scowl deepens and the wrinkles by his eyes crinkle over each other as he squints down at you. “The Avengers are not secretly on our side. Tony Stark never was but Ernesto loves to tell people otherwise. Same about your Captain. You’ve been playing us for years.”

“What evidence do you even have? For years, we’ve done nothing but clear the roads for you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

He unwraps his arm from around your waist and sets both hands around your upper arms. He’s pressing down as hard as he can but still loose enough not to draw unwanted attention. He breathes a sharp exhale, and the puff of air hits your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to my men after you got what you deserved. They were good men and just like that, erased.” He smirks. “I know you had something to do with it.”

A guest with bright red hair laughs loudly to your side as she is twirled around by her partner. It’s not as vibrant as you’re used to, but you still imagine that lopsided smile you hadn’t seen in forever. “Does it matter? You know what they did, so why is my hypothetical revenge chastised?”

“Tell me right now that none of your Avenger friends did your dirty work. Tell me your Captain’s hands are clean.”

“I promise you, my Captain is clean.” Seda doesn’t show any signs of believing you. Still, your mouth twitches into a mocking smirk. “But our once mutual friends Tony and Natalia tell another story.”

“Am I supposed to believe that two people who are dead are responsible for this? Ironic,” he grits his teeth.

You repeat, clear and true. “My Captain is clean.”

He fakes a tiny gag but you know he means his disgust. “You turned over so quickly for him. For the heroes who destroyed the world. Pathetic.”

“You really need to stop underestimating me,” you practically order, voice full of warning and annoyance.

Seda continues, “Following orders from a fascist. Following orders from a country that only does harm.”

He turns you around as the dance instructs, a half-hearted waltz that didn’t have a beginning, middle, or end. You take that second to scan your surroundings and weigh your options. “I agree about the country part. But I don’t follow orders from the country, I follow them from my Captain.”

You’re facing him again and in those hellish eyes you see truth. “No, he’s a symbol of everything we hate. Of everything we need to destroy.”

“Touch Steve and I’ll blind you.”

His feet stop mid-step, as do yours. His eyes widen only a little, but it’s all the ammunition he needs. “I knew it.”

It’s barely a whisper, a tickle from a single strand of hair, but you catch it. No longer keeping it a secret, or rather a secret you didn’t care that you let slip, Seda now knows it was all a lie. All this time you had never referred to Steve as anything other than your Captain.

You feel the blunt head of a .22 press against your abdomen as Seda laughs, “You never could get a mission right.”

Twisting his arm and knocking the gun from his loose grip with your wrist was easy. So was catching the gun mid-air and elbowing him in the ribs. Seda falls to the floor in a state of shock, instinctively gripping his chest. You aim the gun at him and like you’ve seen in the movies, place the tip of your heel just below where his belly button would be. He releases a sharp breath and his eyes are challenging, practically begging you to dig deeper and get on with it.

You can hear the screaming and frantic murmuring from the guests surrounding you and the leveling of guns from Seda’s men. But you’re focused on the man trying so hard not to quiver beneath you, his nasty grin spreading wider.

“You’re alone,” he bites. “Your Steve is helping Ernesto right now, no? You’re alone.”

Your grin forms slowly, and you’re counting down the seconds you have until his men start firing, but you lean your upper body down slightly to make sure he hears you. “That’s never been a problem before. Don’t you remember?” You click back the safety as discreetly as possible. “I was trained by the Black Widow herself.”

You quickly raise the gun to shoot the closest of Seda’s men in between his collarbones, effectively starting the bloodshed. You jump out the way in a flash, rolling across the floor and behind a table. Tipping the table over is easy and it seems like a smart idea at first, until you realize the tables are all glass. The tablecloth had covered that detail, which sucks like hell, because now the bullets are shattering through and you’re forced to kick yourself away and run behind the pillars instead. The heels are kicked off at the same time you’re fishing underneath your dress.

A stray bullet hits the pillar’s side making you squeal. It makes you work faster, though.

Once you find the secure nano-tech ‘button’ (as Scott liked to call it), you strip as quickly as you can and slap the button on your bare shoulder. The nano-tech spirals and threads into itself as intricately as frost spreads on a window, shielding you in both metal and kevlar.

When a storm of bullets hits the pillar and cracks the marble, you’re forced to crouch and hope Seda’s .22 and the myriad of weapons you’re now equipped with are enough. Before your thoughts can creep into a ‘last man standing’ mode, a roar of wind sweeps across the estate and between the cracked pillars, causing your loose hair to slap your face and blind you for only a second. Quickly putting your hair up and pulling the metal batons from the back of your suit, you’re met with the best sight - one that was a little late, in your opinion.

“Kind of you to show up!”

Sam ignores your quip as he flies into three men at once, feet first with his wings extended with the might of a guardian angel. He immediately shields runaway guests who were caught in the middle. He takes the ones on his left, you take the ones on his right.

You let them swing first. They’re fast and pulling their punches and are clearly aiming for the end result of sticking you to the ground. But you’re quicker and deflect the punches. You manage to deliver a solid punch upward to crack the nose of one. As he reaches up as instinct, his ribs are open season.

He falls out cold easily after your batons do their damage and the next man isn’t nearly as fast as the first. He doesn’t move enough to his right to avoid the harsh kick to his sternum. Each ambitious kick to the chest seems to demolish the man’s protective wall he’s trying desperately to keep intact, but once you give your legs a break and switch back to the batons, he doesn’t stand a chance. There are bullets raining across the venue, but Sam is shielding you and deflecting them elsewhere. It allows you the freedom to rip into whoever you think deserves it.

You’ve got two men on your tail and after knocking their weapons from their hands, it seems like a fairer fight. The first doesn’t step back far enough to avoid your roundhouse kick and he falls hard on his ass, gasping for a lick of air. The second is closer, however, and manages to wrap you in a chokehold. Releasing yourself to fall deadweight for only a second, gravity tricks him and you use the momentum to kick up and fly over his shoulders. It’s hard to do without a wall to propel yourself off of. But your abs and thighs are clenched and you don’t quite think you’ll actually end up on this guy’s shoulders but you do. You don’t dwell on that moment of personal pride, though. Tightening your thighs, you use your upper body weight to lean downward and wring his neck. Once he’s down, you sweep your leg around across the floor to trip the other man who was just barely standing back up. With the .22, you fire point blank.

Detaching yourself from the gore has never been much of a challenge. Eyes rolling back and clouding, limbs dangling limp after having just been full of life, bodies thumping against the floor after eating your bullets - you don’t so much as grit your teeth anymore.

Sam is dealing with his own mess closer to where that poor cake is now destroyed, vanilla filling exposed and now two stories instead of four. The other cakes are no better. Sam pulls the trigger once more at someone charging at him and he averts his eyes. Sam, however, clenches his jaw.

“Where’s Seda?” you shout, firing at men who are jumping out from behind tables but giving away their location before they even surprise you.

“Lost him. I think he’s heading over to Steve!”

You look over the room and pray everyone got out safely. There are no civilians lying in their own puddle of blood, no guests begging for help, but you can never know for sure. “We need more hands. Where the hell are Scott and Bucky?”

A storm of bullets starts crashing into the tables and pillars beside you. Trying to duck doesn’t work and you’re grazed in the left arm. Sam tackles you behind the stage, wings extending further and out bending around you.

“I’ve been shot!”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat because of your dramatic tone. “You’ve been grazed. The nano-tech has already rebuilt itself.”

“I don’t care, I hate being shot. It’s not nice. I’ve been hit.”

“Dramatic.”

“Y/N?” a harsh whisper sounds from under the stage tables. Watching your eyes bulge paints a mournful expression on Jackeline’s face. Julian is right beside her, pistol out but not shooting. You wonder if he knows you’re the invader.

“What in the hell are you still doing in here? I told you to run!”

“I’m sorry,” Jackeline squeals as bullets continue firing. “Everyone crowded. I was scared so I just got down.”

“Sam.”

Sam nods, already reading your mind. You had to find Steve; you couldn’t stay here. But there’s bullets still blazing in your direction and you find yourself hopping on your ass slightly each time a bullet connects to the ground beside you. The nano-tech does great in deflecting the lead but it really isn’t an invitation to get shot more times. The graze on your arm is already starting to burn.

“Sam is going to guide you both out of here, alright? Julian, cover her. Sam will cover you.”

There’s a war going on behind Julian’s eyes. His face does a thousand things at once as he hears your orders and the scream of guns combined, but he nods. He grips Jackeline’s waist and pulls her in close, but before they can begin crawling Jackeline turns back to you.

“Mátalo. Okay? Para nosotras dos.” She’s got this fierce determination in her eyes and her accent is as thick as can be.

“Okay.”

Sam relays his location over his mic and who he has behind his wings, but before he can safely guide the married couple down the stage, a new wave of men enter and open fire. Sam’s wings can only take so much, and even though they’re vibranium, his suit is not. Ducking behind the table and reloading your gun, you then lift your head over to view the scene. It’s a mess and you could surely take them down hand-to-hand if you were close enough, but you’re stranded with your batons and seven bullets and a world of automatic machinery pointed at you.

The storm of bullets pauses and every single person looks up to the sky. You thank the Gods for no rain today because the absence of a tarp allows for the quinjet to settle over the chaos and create a much needed distraction. Sam takes his leave, wings still wrapped around your sister, and you do the same. Running from behind the stage with batons lit up and tazed, you knock out the closest men. They fall in a strangle of electricity, vibrating and convulsing as each shock travels through their veins, ultimately paralyzing them for however long it turns out to be. This gains the attention of almost everyone else but before they can train their weapons back toward you, the back of the quinjet opens. There were a few tables still standing and it seemed the super soldier liked them better than the flat floor.

The glass shatters from the impact of Bucky’s weight, glasses of champagne and plates with unfinished meals folding onto the shards. He’s dressed in his tactical gear and a dark navy blue jacket without a trusty sleeve. Even if the arm was covered and his hair was long rather than the short length it was now, the men would certainly know who just fell from the sky. Almost immediately, the men scatter. Bucky takes them down one by one, shot after shot, and decides to use his knives for the ones who don’t run. It’s tricky, but he manages to lodge his knives in the base of the spines of those who later changed their minds.

He catches your eye after you manage to snap the neck of one of the runners. He tilts his head toward the left and watches you run to give Steve the backup he needs.

The mansion seems longer, wider, just generally bigger as you rush through the rooms and halls to get to Steve. The stuffed exotic animals follow your gaze and you can’t ignore them for long. There are men following you and men leaving Ernesto. You duck behind the standing polar bear and wait until the footsteps sound farther. Checking the amount of bullets in your gun, just in case, you finally flick the safety off and run.

There’s really only one thing of importance floating around the padded confines of your skull - get Steve out. Another thing you two had in common: both sacrificial idiots. But there wasn’t any way that you would give up the chance to save his life, as he would yours. Didn’t matter if the man you were protecting him from was your father or not. It hadn’t really settled, hadn’t truly digested, and you didn’t think it ever would. Because for years, this man was your father. He was the only man with that title. He wasn’t fatherly, far from it, but he had the label and that’s what you were going to focus on. It made no difference.

You push the office door open and start stuttering over your words. You want to ask what happened, why there’s so much blood, whose blood it is, but all that comes is a fractured series of what the hell’s? The last syllables push through with necessary force, hardly intelligible, but exhaled at last.

Ernesto is kneeling with his head hanging low and his hands behind his back, defeated. But it isn’t Steve who’s holding a gun to the back of his head - it’s Seda.

No, Steve is in the corner clutching at his right hip and gritting his teeth, a wild look on his face that tells you he too was blindsided. He’s hurt. He’s gasping and wincing at the slightest of movements and it ignites the flame you’ll use to burn this world to the ground. It’s splitting your fucking ribs apart.

“Don’t move!” Seda yells, gun still locked on Ernesto’s head but eyes on you. “Put the gun down.”

“Seda-”

“Put the fucking gun down!”

Biting your tongue, you flip the gun in your hand so it’s facing downward and move to gently place it on the table. Flicking your eyes to where Steve is, you get your answer as to why he’s been so easily shot. His massive body and shield are draped over Ramirez, who is also disarmed and pissed.

The self-righteous idiot, you think, he’s always gotta save the little guy.

“We’re gonna talk about this like the gods we are, yeah?”

Your face pulls awkwardly, “Seda, what is happening?”

“Don’t act like you’ve been on this asshole’s side the entire time now,” Seda bites, shoving the head of the gun harshly into the base of Ernesto’s neck. “Go on, tell him.”

“The shipment was intercepted,” you tell him. But you’re not just telling Seda, no, it’s the first Steve is hearing the good news and it allows him to feel a bit of relief. “You’ve both lost.”

“What have you done?” Ernesto screams, cheeks vibrating and face red with anger. He pays no mind to the gun and dares to glare at you. “Tell me!”

The top of your lip greets a run of tears and snot and it isn’t until then that you realize your hands are shaking mid-air and your throat is closing. “My mission.”

Blood or not, this man had the power to tie your thoughts into knots. He only had this power at precious moments and sadly, this was turning out to be one of them.

Seda bites out a laugh - it’s wet and bloody and scares you half to Hell. “I’m not the only one here who wants to kill you. But I’m going to beat her to it. She brought you back, I can’t have that.”

“No!” You curse inwardly at your involuntary hiccup. “We’re not here to kill you!”

“Oh?” Seda raises the gun at you. “What’s the endgame? Que mas necesitas?”

“I don’t need anything. The shipment is intercepted. The estate is on lockdown. Your routes are down. You’re cornered. It’s over.” You let your shoulders drag just a little. “For both of you.”

Surprisingly, Seda doesn’t pull the trigger when Ernesto charges toward you. He doesn’t pull it when Ernesto wraps his hands around your throat, either.

It’s instinct for you to hold out your hand to stop Steve from doing what he does best. He’s already halfway up and wincing with each push to help you, to rip Ernesto from your capable body, but Seda clicks the gun in his direction. Steve watches the way your arm extends, all five fingers spread in a hopeless plea of ‘don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare’.

“I have done nothing but help you! I put food on the table and clothes on your worthless back! You spent my money!” Ernesto’s eyes are practically bulging and his thumbs are almost crushing your windpipe, but his placement is off. You can still breathe air, no matter how bruising his grip may be. “This is how you treat me? I should have killed you all those years ago. I should have ripped you limb by limb until your cries bled!”

“Please,” you whimper out, hand still extended toward Steve and the other attempting to push Ernesto by the chest.

“Please? Please? Te voy a matar aquí, ahora, porque siempre te lo mereciste!”

You let out a strangled scream and are about to fight back. To save yourself and to end Steve’s suffering of watching you suffer, of watching his newfound hope dwindle right before him, when a gunshot erupts. Everyone screams, ears ringing, and there’s blood splattered all over your cheeks and neck, spots and leaks that trail down into the collar of your bodysuit. A heavy weight lands on you and knocks you back into the shelves. You hold Ernesto’s now limp body as best you can, knees locking painfully. There’s a massive hole where the top of his head should be and for the first time in years, you have to look away to keep from throwing up.

“Dejalo.”

You open and close your mouth but regret it when the taste of copper lands on your tongue. You follow Seda’s order and drop Ernesto to your feet, the thud sending a shiver up every single one of your vertebrae.

“Por qué hiciste eso?” you ask him, voice small. You choke on another hiccup.

“Don’t lie to me and say you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

You look over at Steve. His eyes are just as wide as yours and the same red specks, now turning brown, are tainting the flush pink skin of his beautiful neck.

“No,” you whisper. Steve hears your lost accent returning and it clutches at his heart.

“It was for the best.” Seda marches over to grab Ramirez by the tie, ripping him up from the ground and pointing the gun to his head. Steve lunges forward and Seda fires another bullet into the same hip.

“No!” Your throat is raw, scratched, and Steve hits the floor in another heap of muffled groans. Seda returns the aim on Ramirez.

“Imagine my surprise when I saw this one confronting Ernesto with your Captain. Imagine my fucking surprise when I tried to find all our passports, all our files, and nothing was here! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucking idiot White being taken away by one of your agents!”

“Seda, please.” You were never much of a negotiator. It was always go in and let the others do the talking. Steve was the talker, he was the negotiator, but he was out of his element. He was always the enemy to Seda. He could never convince him otherwise.

“You’ve given me new purpose,” Seda grins and Ramirez is rather calm in his arms, like he accepts this. “Look at the crime scene. I’m using the gun Ramirez got from your team. My men are still loyal.”

He pauses and smiles with all teeth, blood in between most of them. “You shot Ernesto. You shot your Captain. You shot Omar.”

The frightened look on your face seems to fuel him even more. He continues, “We’ll never stop hunting you.”

“Try it,” Steve manages, standing up again and vaguely registering the flash of light to his right. His shield is no longer there. “You’ll have to kill me to win. You’ll have to kill all of us to win. Me, Y/N, Omar, Sam.” He breathes in deep but smiles. “The Winter Soldier.”

You swear Seda’s face pales but his grip around Ramirez’s waist only tightens. “Easy.”

“It won’t be,” you finally say, voice no longer wavering. There’s no plausible way Seda could win. But one thing is fact: whether they’re Seda’s or Ernesto’s men, they’ll never stop hunting you now. “You lost, Seda.”

All stills but there are shouts and the ring of gunshots still echoing near the lake.

“No,” Seda looks to you and to Ernesto’s body. “I didn’t.”

He aims the gun at you and fires.

Steve’s wail is grease to the fire in your soul and you accept whatever pain might hit. There’s space and then there isn’t. There’s emptiness and then there’s a space being filled by that horrid but lifesaving shield. There’s no one and then there’s Scott, blown up to his regular size with shield in hand and in front of you. The bullet bounces off the shield easily and hits the wall. You’re pushed into motion and in about two seconds, you’ve grabbed your gun again and do not hesitate to fire. The bullet hits Seda in his exposed chest and Ramirez fumbles to get the gun from him. Seda hits the floor and no one else follows.

The shot hits its target perfectly. Seda doesn’t so much as stutter.

“God,” Scott grumbles, eyes trying to focus on anything other than the pools of blood. “Was I late?”

You don’t pay any mind to Scott and rush over to Steve, where he’s barely holding himself up with his hip tilted on the edge of the desk. “Steve? Steve. Did he hit anything important?”

“Besides the fuckin’ meat of my stomach?”

There isn’t a way to see beneath the kevlar, but your fingers have a mind of their own as they try to dig in. “You know what I mean.”

Steve huffs a laugh and gently slaps your fingers away. “No, but motherfuck me Christ, I get shot way too much and it hurts no less.”

“Was the shield not enough? You had to sacrifice your one-hundred year old hips? Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I was caught off guard. What about you? I heard over the mics that you were shot and-”

“Are you two done?” Scott interrupts, clearing his throat awkwardly but half a mind still paying attention to his own mic.

It’s like you’re snapped back to reality. There’s not only Steve but others, alive and dead, and the smell of copper is all too familiar. “Sorry, I’m still in shock. I don’t really know how to proceed from here.”

“Y/N-” Scott tries, but you resume.

“We were supposed to arrest them. Just arrest them.”

“Okay, I think we should get you outta here,” Steve acts like he’s the one guiding you, but his weight is falling. You faintly register a phone ringing in the room but Steve, ever so persistent, is still acting like he is holding you up. He lunges forward with a sharp wince, and your hand immediately goes to his hip.

“Captain.”

Ramirez lowers his phone, call ended, and he wears an expression Steve recognizes immediately. It’s an expression that looks all too similar to Dugan’s when he relayed the news of enemy forces breaching their base. “...How many?”

“They’ve already sent the news to their men in Mexico.”

“Have they shut down the border?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“They don’t know two of their men are dead, so we can-“

Scott shakes his head, shield still in hand with specks of blood drying on the blue stripe. “They know White was arrested. That’s all they need. They’ll assume the rest, the worst.”

You sigh, “Seda was right.”

Scott literally pouts and he looks like he wants to wrap you in his arms. “No, don’t send yourself there.”

Steve, however, agrees with you. “If they know about White, then they know about Omar. Seda had time to tell his men.”

“Then we make sure he’s arrested and taken to a secure facility. We can keep an eye-” Scott starts, but you shut him down quickly.

“He’s wanted by the US government, not the Avengers. We can only transport him. We can’t guarantee his safety.”

Ramirez gives a small smile. “Mija, voy estar bien. No te preocupes.”

“I don’t know.”

Scott looks between the three of you. He places the shield against the wall near the door. He raises his eyebrows at Steve and looks to his wounds, but Steve waves him off. Reluctantly, Scott nods. “I’m gonna go check on Sam.”

There’s a pool of blood near your boots. You don’t want to know if it’s from the dead or from Steve.

“Doll, what are you thinking?”

He can’t hurt you anymore. “That I need you to go, too.”

Steve forgets about the pain in his hip and focuses solely on you. “What?”

“Go. If there’s one more thing you can do for me and my reckless family, go check on Sam.”

“You know I can’t leave you here alone with him.”

Your voice is steady and calm and it’s scaring Steve. It’s scaring him. “I promised myself that you wouldn’t be hurt by this mission. I stand by it.”

“I promise, Captain, I have no resentment. Whatever she does, I will follow,” Ramirez speaks, and Steve doesn’t even pay him a glance.

“I can’t just go.”

“Steve,” you interlock your fingers behind his neck. “Please. Listen to me.” He looks so confused, a million questions flying through his mind and almost escaping those sweet pink lips. Fierce, you whisper for only him. “He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He relishes the feeling of your soft hands behind his neck. They’re bloody, but yours. His neck is bloody, but you don’t seem to care. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” you confirm.

He pulls from your hold and turns to leave. He picks up the shield. Before he leaves, he grips the doorway and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pinched and jaw tense. “Two minutes, I swear to Almighty Christ, Y/N. I’m coming back for you.”

You smirk, the dim light from the office lamps creating nothing short of a sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t expect anything less, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates for a moment and then he walks away. Once his footsteps are no longer heard, you turn back to Ramirez. There’s a voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea and that you were an idiot to have your back turned on him for so long, but Ramirez is simply leaning on one of the chairs and grimacing at the bloody scene before him.

“Remember when Ernesto bought you that car when you were thirteen? And then another when your brother crashed it?”

Your nose pinches, “I don’t feel like reminiscing when he’s lying right there.”

“Do you remember what you told me when he bought you that second car? The sports one?”

You sigh. Ramirez was clearly going to continue speaking. “‘No lo quiero. Soy una niña. Get rid of it.’”

“And I did.”

“You did.”

He smiles, and for the first time you notice all the gray hair dusting his head, the most by his temples. There's a limp in his step too but you can’t remember if he had before or after the wedding. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“What?” you blink, unsure if you heard him right.

“I’m already a traitor. If I spin this, you can continue the mission. You can arrest even more of his men. They’ll come after me instead of you.”

It’s what he’s been trained to do. It’s what he’s done since he transported his first shipment. It’s what he’s done time and time again for Ernesto, for Seda, for some of his own careless men. He’s numb to it, just as you were a few days ago, but now you can’t stop thinking about the aftermath. Where would he put their bodies? Would they be buried here or back in Mexico? Would people really care if Ernesto was dead? They didn’t seem to care when he was snapped out of existence. But Ramirez has this sag in his shoulders that tells you he’s already calculating the best way to wrap the bodies and how deep he plans on sending them… or burning them. Burning them was always easier.

“They’ll come after your family. Your daughters.”

He shakes his head, “I’ve ensured their safety. They’re safe.”

Against your better judgement, you tap your mic discreetly and turn it off. “I can’t let you take one for the team.”

He chuckles, “I’m a part of your team? I’m an Avenger?”

You can’t help but laugh with him. It’s not a light moment, but it’s a moment nonetheless. “Sure, Omar. But we don’t trade lives.”

“I had this coming.”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t.” Straining your ears and shutting your eyes, you mumble a quick prayer in hope that this plan of yours worked. You pass Ramirez your own gun and speak low. “Go.”

He’s shocked and he stutters. “Que haces? Que esta pasando?”

“There’s no one on the east side right now. All the guests were moved to the front. It’s clear. But not for long.” Pushing him to the door, you make sure he’s not leaving any bloody footprints behind. He’s clear. “Go.”

“This will kill us both.”

“But it will give us a head start.”

“No puedo hacer eso! No quiero hacer eso.”

“Omar, they’re not going to protect you once you’re charged. I can’t protect you then. So I need you to go.” You reach into your suit and pluck that random Roman coin you had stolen just a few days earlier. It was a token of good luck but you didn’t need it anymore. You avoid looking at the carving for fear that the likeness to Steve will make you change your mind. You place it in Ramirez’s hand and clench his fist shut. “If there’s one thing you can do for my stupid, anti-hero mentality, go.”

“Que hago con esto?”

“No me llamas. But let me find this.”

He looks at you with pity. It’s so much pity and understanding for your situation that you have to look away. “I owe you my life.”

Eyesight now on the wall over his shoulder, you offer him a thin smile. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He stumbles at first, unsure if this is really happening, and finally passes by. “Y/N.”

You figure it’d be pretty rude not to answer. You turn slowly. He continues, face somber and head shaking with so much pity. “The amount of Hell that’s coming...”

It’s funny, really. You shoot him that famous smile you were known for. It tricks him like it’s supposed to. “I’m already going to Hell for the lives I’ve taken and the crimes I’ve committed. But the journey to my fate has been worth it.”

The estate is being swept as quickly as possible. There are agents dressing wounds, reading rights, snapping photos, on the phone, etc. It’s organized chaos and there’s so much happening but it’s never impossible to catch Steve’s side profile in a crowd. His nose is pinched up and he’s dealing with his wounds himself. No one is even looking at him.

Speed walking to him, you hook your arm in his and turn him around. He’s too tall, and your toes strain as you rise on them, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway. He returns the gesture and squeezes you as hard as you’re squeezing him. After a few seconds, he whispers quietly.

“Where’d Ramirez go?”

If he saw your eyes, he would know you were lying. You keep your arms in place. “He got away.”

He tries to push you away but fails. “Y/N.”

“He got away,” you repeat. Slowly, regretfully, you pull back. “We should go.”

There’s a horrible crease in between his eyebrows and he knows he’s caught you in a lie, but he also knows that if there was one thing he knew most about you, it was that you were just as stubborn as he was. Quick with wit, always asking to be punched, and stubborn to the point it made strangers worry. So he doesn’t question it, and turns with you in the direction of the jet. “Maribel has the safehouse set up. Montana.”

“You sure you can make it to the jet? Should I get Bucky to come with us?”

The quinjet is empty except for a few supplies, a medical bag, and Friday. There are only two seats and by the way Steve’s bending over to show his true pain, you’d be flying it. Once you land, you can fish out those bullets.

“No one else.” Steve bites. He can’t risk anyone else - hell, he doesn’t even want to risk you. “I’ll protect you.”

You board the jet and watch as the trees sway in rhythm to the movements of everyone doing their job. It’s dark, and you push the fact that you’re so horribly night blind to the back of your skull, and it’s starting to eat away at you that the mission didn’t really go as planned. No one seems to notice yet that you never brought them the two main players they were hoping for. It only makes you close the quinjet faster. You sit Steve down in one of the seats and kneel before him. “And I you.”

If anyone asked, Steve would lie and say he was tearing up because of the bullets piercing his skin in half. To protect and be protected.

“Let’s go.”

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress

#steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers x reader #reader x avengers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #to topple #a giant #by Moni #captainsimagines #mob fanfic #trigger warnings listed #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #mini-series #part eight #chapter eight #marvel fanfiction #marvel masterlist

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eatyourchancletas · 4 years ago

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SUMMARY | y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | written by alex and edited by monnie! we are so sorry for not updating since the new year! we decided to upload this mini chapter to provide some background information for the following chapters to come! if you enjoyed this, please reblog, like, and leave some feedback! it’s much appreciated!! please excuse any mistakes!

WORD COUNT | 1.4k

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heeseung held his breath as soon as he caught a glimpse of the door that belonged to y/n’s apartment. it’d been a while since he had been remotely anywhere near it, just the thoughts and flashes of memories being enough to make his knees buckle in anxiety. he felt scared—of what, he didn’t know. maybe he was scared of just being back there or maybe he was scared that y/n really did leave.

he inhaled a deep breath before walking along the carpet that led to the door. beside the door was his mailbox, fastened to the wall. what rose heeseung’s suspicion though, was that the mailbox was overflowing—bills, disclosures, notices, and envelopes of different matters splayed out. the oldest (visible) one dated back as far as two weeks.

after multiple failed attempts of entering the passcode to the door, he bent down to search for the spare key, remembering where y/n placed it. he always thought y/n chose the most foolish spot to leave a means of entry into his home—under the doormat—but now he couldn’t help but feel relieved when the little scrap of metal touched his hand. he went to unlock the door when a voice called out to him.

“hey, what are you doing?”

the nurse jumped in shock, dropping the key as his hand flew to his heart, feeling the thrashing of his heartbeat. he looked over, seeing an elderly woman standing a few doors down. “do you know y/n? i’m looking for him, have you seen him?”

“you haven’t seen him either—the last time i saw that young man was two weeks ago!”

heeseung ran past the other pedestrians, not caring about the curses he’d received from bumping so harshly into them. his mind was in a state of frenzy—not even y/n’s neighbors had seen him. where is he?

he suddenly stopped, bending over to catch his breath, hands on his knees and lungs screaming for air. “maybe- maybe he just went on vacation!” he mumbled to himself, but he let out a frustrated cry, “no! y/n wouldn’t just leave like that. come on heeseung, you knew him more than you knew yourself at one point! he wouldn’t just leave,” he made his final decision, standing straight to walk into the police station in front of him.

“i’d like to file a missing person’s report.”

the officer at the desk looked at heeseung before clicking onto a new program on her computer, “what is their name and when was the last time you saw them?”

“y/n l/n and i saw him about two weeks ago.”

“excuse me, but why are you just now filing a report then, sir?” another officer walked up, overhearing the conversation.

heeseung looked shocked, not knowing what to say. maybe he had put too much faith in believing y/n was okay. maybe he should’ve come sooner, but now wasn’t the time to patronize himself.

“he’s a surgeon. we all figured he took a break or something—”

“sure, one second. let me go check if we have him in the system.” heeseung stared in irritation. did the officer not hear him? y/n is a surgeon, why would he be recorded in the system?

he waved down the officer, shaking his head. “nevermind officer, i’ll just go to the next division station and report it.”

he let out a rough sigh as he gripped his hair, kicking his feet as he walked out the station. “please, y/n, please be safe—”

his phone suddenly rang and he fumbled with it in his pocket before pulling it out and looking at the caller id. it was a number he didn’t recognize, so he went to ignore it when a nagging feeling compelled him to answer.

“hello?”

there was some breathing on the other end of the line before a voice spoke up, “hello? hi, yes, is this lim heeseung?”

heeseung didn’t recognize the voice, but if he knew his name, he must’ve been calling for a reason. “yes this is… may i ask who i am speaking to?”

“oh, hello, yes i am changsik. i’m a friend of y/n’s—”

an audible gasp left heeseung’s mouth, his feet carrying him to a less crowded place. “really? do you know where he is—is he okay?”

“oh, he’s fine! i’m actually calling you because he asked me to. he wanted me to let you know he was okay. i’m letting him stay at my house for a bit—he wanted to take a break, he’s turned his phone off. that’s why no one can reach him,” heeseung listened on, each word causing his mind to be put more at ease, “he actually asked me to call you a while ago, but i’ve been so busy with work, so i’m very sorry!”

heeseung frantically spoke a mantra of “no,” telling the man that he was fine and thanking him for telling him about y/n.

“here, how about this. i’ll send you my address and you can come and surprise him with a visit this weekend!”

“of course! thank you so much, i’ll keep in touch!”

“mister hongjoong… sir,” y/n fumbled over his words as he confronted the man. hongjoong looked at him with a raised brow, waving a hand slowly, urging him to continue speaking. “uh, i’m running low on supplies… so i was wondering if someone could come with me to get more from the store…”

the leader stares blankly at him for a moment, causing the doctor to almost become weak in the knees, before he taps his in-ear, “jongho, come here please.”

a few seconds later, jongho enters hongjoong’s office, bowing his head before waiting for hongjoong to speak.

“y/n says he is running out of supplies, so i want you to go with him to the pharmacy down the street, okay?” jongho only nodded his head, bowing before asking y/n to follow him.

as they made their way down the corridor, jongho tapped his in-ear, “i’m going with y/n hyung to get some more medical supplies. san hyung can you bring me my wallet and gun. we’re headed toward the front door.” there’s a hurried yes on the other end, heard in both jongho and y/n’s ears.

when they reached the front door, san was already standing there, a batman wallet and gun in hand. y/n eyed the wallet, “wow, jongho. who would’ve thought you were into batman—”

san choked on a laugh as jongho just huffed, opening the front door. “oh, one second jongho, please. let me just go get the list of supplies i need!”

jongho nodded his head, shutting the door behind him. y/n went to go get the list from the infirmary when san’s hand landed on his forearm. “i already grabbed it… hyung,” the younger was staring up at him with a worried look, “be careful.”

y/n went to thank him when he noticed a subtle blush painting his cheeks. “are you okay san? you’re not coming down with a fever, are you?” he placed a hand against his forehead and then his cheeks.

“your wounds are probably infected! i told you no sharp movem—” his words were cut off as a pair of lips touched his almost as fast as he could blink. his eyes widened in shock, body freezing as he stared down at the younger whose face transitioned into a burning red.

y/n bought a hand to his mouth, delicately prodding at the area that was tingling. he remained like that for a few more moments, san’s demeanor slowly becoming more ashamed and embarrassed. san went to apologize and run away when y/n bought a hand to his hair and ruffled it. “we’ll be back before you know it.”

y/n didn’t know how to feel as he followed jongho down the sidewalk. what san did was so sudden—sure they’d grown remarkably closer over the past couple of weeks, but he just couldn’t help but be shocked. maybe it was because the boy was in his younger twenties and y/n was almost thirty. maybe there was some sort of generation gap when it came to the developmental speed of friendships and relationships.

all he knows was he couldn’t shake it from his mind as he walked into the pharmacy, jongho waiting outside to avoid the cameras.

but what the both of them didn’t and couldn’t have known was that there was someone else in the pharmacy—someone willing to start a war.

#t.k chapter #tinted kisses #kpop x male reader #x male reader #san x male reader #choi san #san ateez #ateez fic #ateez series #series #top male reader #ateez #kpop imagines #kpop series #kpop x reader #kpop fics #ateez fics #ateez x male reader

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theherothechampiontheinquisitor · 4 years ago

Text

Pepperony Gift Exchange

Title: Like It Never Happened Pairing: Pepperony Word Count: Almost 13k TW: Implied/referenced Alcohol Abuse Rating: G Summary: When Tony and Pepper get stranded alone in Colorado after a long (mostly) working weekend they learn more about the other in one night than in the five years they spent working together. Not only that but they discover there may be the possibility for more for them in the future. What started as the weekend from hell blossoms into something unexpected and life changing. OR There was only one bed. - "Hey, Pepper. Want to make out?" Notes: I wrote this for the Pepperony Valentine's Gift Exchange via @dailypepperony for @river-bottom-nightmare. I am so sorry that this is so late. Life has kicked my butt this last month but I hope the nearly 13k in content is a good apology. I had a lot of fun with this one even as it grew from just a funny little idea into something with actual plot. I hope that you enjoy it!! Sorry again for the wait. <3

Read it on AO3 Here

They were supposed to have gone back to Malibu on Thursday night after the conference. Instead, here Pepper was on Saturday night, trekking through one of the worst blizzards in Colorado history because her boss just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a mini vacation and go snowboarding with a gaggle of busty sycophants.

She’d been working for Tony Stark for almost five years now, so she wasn’t sure why she was still sometimes so surprised by his need to go off script and wildly alter all of their plans, but at least when he did they were normally in California where it was warm and sunny, not this frozen tundra.

She almost left without him, sure he would never notice or care she was gone but even though she and Tony had a good back and forth relationship, she had less of one with the CTO, Obadiah Stane and knew that Obadiah would be less thrilled if she left the wild child CEO on his own to get into trouble.

By the time that she had been able to finally convince Tony that they needed to leave and then to check out from their hotel and make it to the airport, the storm was already in full effect and all planes had been grounded, even for America’s premier billionaire weapons developer. So, they had to turn around. Or they would have if they could have made it past the airport parking lot but the snow was falling so heavily that their driver wouldn’t even attempt it, and he was a Colorado native.

This left Pepper with the unique challenge of now finding lodging nearby because she would be damned if she was going to sleep inside the airport. There were several hotels and motels that were airport adjacent at least, so now she was mostly left with the issue of them all being fully booked by other stranded flyers.

The concierge at their latest chain hotel was being very polite and understanding of their dilemma, however there was only so much they could do and apparently the Stark name meant nothing in the midst of a blizzard.

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose and then massaged her aching forehead as she parsed through her options, not that there really were any. It was almost midnight, she was tired, had been working all day when she wasn’t corralling Tony. This hotel would have to do. Tony only had himself to blame if the room wasn’t up to snuff.

Speaking of which…

She turned around from the front desk, eyes scanning the mostly empty lobby until they zeroed in on her boss, leaning against the wall talking to another guest, female of course, with a wolfish smile on his face.

Bleh.

“Mr. Stark?” she called out across the room to him, a fake pleasant smile plastered to her face and a thin veneer of exasperation lacing her words.

“Yes, dear?” He responded automatically without so much as even a backward glance.

Breathe, Potts, breathe.

“I think we are just about set up over here, just need your signature as always,” she replied, proud at how in check her temper was at the moment.

For a moment she thought she’d have to physically remove him from his conversation until a tall, buff looking guy came in the door carrying several suitcases, dropping them at the feet of the woman Tony was talking to, and he did not look pleased. Tony quickly gave a wink and a smile before he strategically retreated.

“You got it all figured out, huh?” he asked, as he made his way to the desk.

“I always do.”

He smiled genuinely at that and she felt just the slightest bit of her anger melting away and instead the butterflies she’d sometimes get in her stomach stirred to life instead. It was ridiculous really how nice of a smile her boss had, so she was allowed to be a little weak internally. From the looks of the young concierge, she would seem to agree, as well.

Tony reached across the front desk to grab a pen, and Pepper slid the forms over to Tony. Technically, her job did give her the power to sign for him but early on she had deemed it entirely necessary to make him put forth at least the bare minimum of effort, especially when situations like this would arise and it was all his fault.

Tony signed his name with a flourish, only the ‘T’ and ‘S’ distinguishable on the line. As he did the lights in the lobby flickered.

“What’s up with that?”

The concierge kept a smile on her face as she took the information from them. “The blizzard might be causing an issue with the power. We have emergency lights and fireplaces in each of the suites in case it were to go out.”

Tony raised a brow and looked sideways to Pepper. She raised her hands in mock defense.

“We wouldn’t even still be in this state if you weren’t pursuing your...extracurriculars.”

“Pepper, I’m insulted.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not,” he agreed with another one of those smiles that made those butterflies start fluttering again...until he turned his head back to the concierge, his hair flopping to the side. “So, what time do you get off work?”

Tony definitely knew how to clip those butterfly wings in a single instance.

“No, no. We have to share a room and this is definitely one of those things that is not in my contract to have to deal with.”

“Aw, Pep you’re no fun. Besides, I’m sure she has her own room,” he said winking at the girl who let loose a nervous giggle.

Oh puh-lease.

“Tony,” she finally stated in her no nonsense voice that cut through all of his bullshit.

He looked at her then, really looked at her she thought, and saw something, probably her extreme exhaustion and distaste for him at the moment and he straightened his stance from leaning against the desk and turned back.

“Do you at least have a bar around here or in the room?”

“They closed at nine.”

“What in the prohibition is wrong with this place?”

“I’m sure we could have something sent up for you?” The girl asked entirely unsure if that was even possible, Pepper was sure, though seemingly willing enough to risk her job to earn another grin from her boss.

Thankfully Tony spared her from much more flirting and they were finally handed their room keys and directed to the elevator down the hall. They were on the third floor with a view overlooking the mountains which the concierge promised was a sight to behold in the mornings. The only sight Pepper was looking forward to was the back of her eyelids.

She leaned heavily against the rail in the elevator and let her head flop back against the wall.

“You okay, Potts?”

“Nothing a good night of sleep won’t fix,” she mumbled automatically.

Tony shrugged and went back to looking at his phone but every now and then she could feel the weight of his stare on her, even with her eyes closed.

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

“There must be some kind of a mistake…”

Pepper dropped her bag in the doorway even as Tony shuffled around her to see what the problem was.

The room was definitely much smaller than either of them was used to, and certainly a downgrade in quality but that was to be expected from a chain airport hotel. Still it wasn’t exactly a slum either. There was a mini kitchenette with a coffee pot and microwave on one end of the room, what he assumed was a door leading to a bathroom, and then at the opposite end was the fireplace that was boasted about, along with the balcony overlooking the mountains. A small desk and couch was also wedged up against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, finally coming up with nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the horrific beiges and generic prints lining the walls.

That must have been the wrong answer because Pepper turned to him with the most unamused face in her arsenal.

“There’s only one bed,” she finally pointed out. “This was supposed to be a double. I’m calling down to the front.”

Tony didn’t consider that the end of the world but apparently Pepper did, as she stormed over to the old looking phone and dialed down to the front. He just shrugged and entered the room more fully, dropping his bag in front of the wardrobe/tv stand combo and instantly went to get a better look of the view, occasional snatches of Pepper’s conversation drifting to his ears.

“...no you said there was a room available you did not say that it was a single…”

Tony would almost be insulted by how vehemently his assistant was fighting against the hotel staff if he didn’t already know that she fought equally hard in all of her endeavors. It was one of the many reasons that he had hired her on in the first place.

“Okay, so they don’t have any more rooms, it’s this or nothing,” Pepper finally said, slamming the receiver down.

Tony turned back to his exasperated assistant and just grinned at how flushed she was. “It’s not the end of the world, I’m sure we can manage.”

Pepper was still not amused or comforted. “Sure, you can say that because you are literally inhuman and can fall asleep anywhere, but I have been chasing you around for two days, while also keeping everything caught up with SI and it's cold and I’m tired. I don’t exactly relish sleeping on a couch after everything that has happened.”

Tony flinched and scrunched his face up. “Why would you sleep on the couch? C’mon we’re adults, it’s a big bed, there’s no reason that we can’t just share it. And if you’re cold, then I’ll get the fireplace going.”

Pepper paused and looked like she was considering his words, her eyes roaming over to the bed, probably calculating the amount of space that they would each have between their bodies. He could probably seal the deal if he could just keep his mouth shut for the next two minutes and swallow down the flirty retort on the tip of his tongue, alas though, he was Tony Stark and he had never been good at not saying what was on his mind.

“Besides, I have been trying to get you in bed with me for years.”

He could see the exact moment that the light left her eyes and all considerate notions of bed sharing were instantly quashed.

Oh, well. Maybe next time.

“Orrrrrrr,” he dragged the word out and at least had the decency to be mildly apologetic in tone and features for his joke, “I can sleep on the couch. I’ll still build you a fire though, cause I’m such a swell guy.”

Pepper rolled her eyes but he could see some of the tension drain from her shoulders and knew that he had made the right choice, chivalrous even. And to be honest, she really did deserve the very least of which he could give her in this instance. She was right, he could sleep anywhere. He had once fallen asleep standing up at his drafting board and Rhodey could probably write a book about all the weird places he had found him dozing while they were at MIT. Some of those naps might have been more alcohol or drug induced than by choice but the sentiment remained the same. And as Pepper so angrily stated, she had been running after him like his mother for the past few days. He’d make sure to give her a raise too. He liked to do that anytime he knew he had been particularly burdensome. Pepper got a lot of raises.

Pepper didn’t say anything else but she went back for her bag and rummaged through it for a bit, pulling out night clothes and toiletries before disappearing into the bathroom, so surely she had agreed to their new terms.

Tony wandered his way over to the fireplace and realized it was just an old electric thing. He turned a few knobs to get it going and by the time that Pepper had exited the bathroom, it was at least putting out a pleasant warmth and Tony had already mapped out ten different ways in his brain to improve the energy efficiency and output ratio. He liked finding new ways to fix old age problems. It was often a welcome relief from building the next big weapon, often saving him from his creative stifle.

“Check it out, Potts,” he said over his shoulder and then turned his head to face her from where he was crouched beside the fire. When he looked at Pepper though his brain may as well have shut down entirely.

He had seen Pepper in all manner of power suits and business attire. Had seen her on the rarer occasion in her ‘off the clock attire’ containing various jeans and t-shirts. However, he had yet to see her in any kind of nightwear, the past few days they had had separate rooms and any time she may have crashed at the mansion before that she was always hidden behind closed doors and in fresh clothing by the time he was pulled out of his bed.

Seeing her now...well it wasn’t quite what he would fantasize, no fantasies were just that and really there were no practical reasons to sleep in sheer lacy lingerie when one had no intentions of seduction, no this was right. This was very Pepper. Practical. Comfortable. Still surprisingly sexy?

She sensed his eyes on her as she stuffed her folded clothing back into her bag and slowly turned to him, her toothbrush still hanging out of one side of her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing just you look…” he held his hands up as if lost for words and he kind of was at the moment. He felt that strange churn he’d sometimes get in the pit of his stomach when he would sometimes zone out in the middle of an all nighter and think about Pepper, really think about her, not just the curves and the pretty face, but all of her, and how he never smiled more than when he was with her. That feeling was back, gnawing at his gut as his eyes swiped over her one more time.

Pepper was instantly on the defensive. “They’re my winter pajamas. I never get to wear them in California, leave me alone,” she said, smoothing out any of the wrinkles of her pink flannel set.

“No, no, I didn’t mean anything bad about it. It’s just…” he started to correct, “very you. It’s cute,” he shrugged.

Pepper softened at the recognition of one of his real admissions, dropping her guard back down and allowing a smile to creep across her face. “Not the lace and silk you were hoping for, huh?” she teased him back and he knew they were good again.

“Nah, this is better,” he admitted to her again. It could have been the light from the fireplace or just her body warming from the cold, snowy night but he thought he saw a flush of pink spread across her cheeks and tinge the top of her ears. It was adorable.

A knock at the door broke the moment and Tony took it upon himself to answer. It was the hotel general manager, a tall, balding man in his forties with a bushy mustache. He apologized about the inconvenience over the room and the bar being closed but offered Tony a bottle of, “their best wine,” free of charge. Tony accepted it and the man scurried away like a mouse.

Tony turned the bottle in his hand, reading the label.

“We’re rolling in luxury now, Pep.”

“Oh yeah? Did they bump some poor couple from a double room?”

“I thought we already solved the bed issue?”

“We did, but I could still hope,” she shrugged, and went into the bathroom to spit and rinse her toothbrush out.

Tony knew no boundaries though so he followed behind her and leaned into the doorway as she went about removing the days make up. Now that he had seen Pepper without, so it didn’t phase him to watch.

“No, they did apologize though with their best red wine, vintage 2004. A whole year. We should be honored.”

“Not everyone in the world has exclusive access to their own family wineries in Italy, Tony,” she said, blotting at her face.

“Okay, I’m a snob,” he admitted. “You like wine, right Pepper? Let’s crack this bad boy open.”

“Tony,” she started in that tone that usually ended in a solid ‘no.’

“C’mon Potts, a quick nightcap. Live a little.”

“You live enough for the both of us.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he pointed at her and fled the room in search of cups before she did say no.

No glasses had been provided by Bill the general manager, nor the kitchenette, so Tony had to settle for the paper cups that were meant for the coffee pot. He’d just rinse his cup out when he was done and reuse it for the coffee in the morning. No big deal.

The wine wasn’t the type that needed a corkscrew, nor was it the type that he thought needed to breathe after being opened but he went ahead and waited a few moments anyways. It certainly couldn’t make it any worse...he hoped.

After further thought he flipped off the lights then glanced at the bed and pulled off the four fluffy pillows and sat them around the small fireplace, two of them he propped against the wall and leaned back against, the other two he left for Pepper to decide what to do with.

He then grabbed the wine and the two paper cups and poured himself a measure. It smelled just like your basic, cheap, supermarket wine, and after a taste he knew that he had definitely had worse in his life but that wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. Satisfied that they at least wouldn't be poisoned tonight, he filled his cup the rest of the way and then Pepper's and waited.

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

“What is this?” Pepper said, haltingly when she finally emerged from the bathroom makeup-less and ready for bed. She looked Tony up and down, the way he was sprawled out on the cheap carpet, propped up only by the wall and the bed pillows beside the warm fire with suspicion. It felt like a cheap seduction attempt.

Tony however never faltered. “It’s our nightcap,” he said with a grin and raised his paper cup. “It tastes like shit but I figured maybe some ambiance wouldn’t hurt.”

Pepper hesitated again. Tony had always been flirty and he knew better than to try anything further with her. She had made it very clear from day one exactly where he could go if he tried to treat her like a one night stand. He had surprisingly been very respectful of her boundaries, testing the limits on occasion, but he never made her feel uncomfortable or anything.

This whole situation though had been wearing her thin. The aggravation of what occurred and why mixed with the fact that there was a part of her that was singing in glee at being confined to a single bed room with her good looking, charming boss who despite all the bravado she had put forth about leaving her alone, she had still managed to harbor a crush on. Maybe even could develop genuine feelings for. This was neither the time or the place for those kinds of thoughts.

Tony sighed loudly and drew her attention back to him after she must have zoned out for a decent while. “C’mon, Potts. We can pretend this is a slumber party and exchange gossip and paint each other’s nails. If you’re really good we can even end with a pillow fight.”

“Is that what you think happens at slumber parties?” Pepper asked. She gave the bed a longing glance but Tony just looked so damn earnest, so she ultimately gave in and grabbed the two pillows Tony had left for her and fixed herself a spot a respectable distance away from him and plopped down on the pillows with a groan. It felt so good to finally be sitting down.

“I mean that’s the Hallmark version of what I think happens. My only other experience is with porn and I have a feeling that would be even less accurate,” he smiled cheekily.

Pepper rolled her eyes and accepted the Styrofoam cup from his outstretched hand, their fingers brushing against each other ever so slightly, sending a pleasant tingle up her arm. “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink for any of that kind of talk,” she said, taking a sip.

“Well, we do have this bottle all to ourselves…”

This time Pepper laughed a real laugh.

“It would take more than a bottle for either of us to be drunk. I’m pretty sure this is the same brand that my Mom used to buy when I was in high school and it’s pretty weak. Sometimes I’d still steal a drink or two when I was feeling particularly rebellious though.”

Tony gasped and clutched at his chest dramatically at the revelation. “You mean to tell me that the Pepper Potts was an underage drinker?! And here I thought your soul was completely pristine.”

Pepper snorted. “Please. Not that pristine,” she said, taking another drink.

“Ohhh. I am liking this darker side of you, Pep, I have to say. What else did you do? Shoplift bubblegum? Forget to tip your waiter?” he teased.

“I’m sorry my criminal history is not living up to your expectations. Not everyone grew up with a lawyer on retainer and parents that could bail them out.” As soon as the words left her mouth she gasped lightly and covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked to him for his reaction. “I’m sorry, I was just teasing, and that was unprofessional…”

It was an unspoken rule to not speak about Howard and Maria Stark literally ever, if one could help it. Sometimes it was unavoidable due to press members who thought they were clever comparing the son to his father or if it were related to Stark Industries business, but never as a joke.

Pepper didn’t know the full story why the subject was so touchy, she’d always just assumed it was due to the tragic nature of their loss. She knew that they had passed years back in an auto accident, Pepper had been a senior in high school, and could still remember the headlines splashed across her father’s newspaper for weeks with photos of the wreck or the elder Starks. There was just one photo of a young Tony that she could remember taken from the funeral. He was all alone and even in black and white she could see and feel the sadness and vulnerability that had been radiating off of him. It was the first time she was cognizant of who he was. Sometimes she could still see the hints of the sad, lonely boy in the man before her and it made her heart ache.

When she looked at Tony he didn’t seem offended at least but the sadness was there. His eyes grew a little more haunted and the smile on his face became a little more downturned but in the blink of an eye the smile was back, a little more cautious now, as he waved a hand at her and filled the cups back up.

“You’re fine,” he reassured her as he poured the wine, “I’m a snob and sometimes I forget how normal people live. And I’ll have you know that there were a couple of times when my parents were out of town that my Aunt Peggy let me cool my heels and sober up in the luxury of a jail cell overnight.”

“Is this Peggy Carter?” Pepper figured she was safe to ask about since she was still alive and well and she knew they were still in contact. She’d seen her flowing script occasionally on the mail she would bring to Tony and had always been a little curious. The woman was an icon.

“It is. You been checking up on me?,” he said, a genuine smile taking over his face again. She loved those smiles.

“It is part of my job,” she shrugged.

“I'm surprised you two haven’t met before, compared Tony-wrangling notes. I’m sure she could provide you plenty of pointers. On second thought--scratch that. Maybe you should never meet,” he laughed. “She’s a great woman though. You would really like her. You’re alike in a lot of ways. Strong, beautiful, capable women who don’t take anyone’s shit.”

Pepper’s heart fluttered a little erratically to be compared to a woman like Peggy Carter, but especially at the word beautiful. She was starting to feel flushed and she knew it had nothing to do with the wine. Time to deflect and redirect, a tried and true Tony-wrangling method.

“You don’t talk about her very much.”

“I don’t?”

Pepper shook her head.

“That’s too bad. It’s not intentional. She’s gone her own way with her family and I suppose I’ve gone mine. That’s life right?”

It sounded like there was more to it than that but Pepper wasn’t going to press her luck any further. Tony though became a little antsy, shifting his body around into several different positions before resettling and drinking the remnants of his cup. He refilled it again and they sat in silence for a moment.

Pepper watched him stare into the fireplace contemplatively, the fake embers casting warm shadows across his face. In this lighting his eyes were a warm, honey brown, and she couldn’t help to be drawn to them as he clearly fought some internal fight.

Finally, after what felt like forever he spoke again, his voice soft and serious.

“Aunt Peggy isn’t too happy with me at the moment.”

Pepper frowned. “Why not? The stocks are the best they have ever been.”

“It’s not the company. Me in general. She thinks that an almost thirty-five year old man shouldn’t still be behaving like his twenty-one year old counterpart,” he said, trying for a wry grin that came off more painful than anything.

“She thinks I need to settle down, have a family like she did. Cut down on the alcohol. Well, not just cut down but check myself into Betty Ford or some shit. I told her to mind her own business, we had an argument and I haven’t heard from her since,” he finished with a deep sigh of regret.

Pepper couldn’t say that she disagreed with Ms. Carter’s assessment and honestly, looking at Tony now, she didn’t think he disagreed now either, if he ever really had. There was a difference between knowing you have a problem and accepting it and seeking treatment. It was clear the woman had meant well, but Tony could be so guarded and so bullheaded.

She mentally fought herself over what to say next. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds, she was still his employee, no matter how friendly they could be off office hours, but he was clearly in pain and seeking a little direction, clarity even.

“Do you disagree with her?” she asked, cautiously.

Tony didn’t blow up at her or fire her. His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the dancing light in front of him, engaged in his own mental struggle. Slowly he shook his head, the strands of his overgrown hair that had started to curl, waved back and forth slightly.

“No.”

At least he could admit it to himself even if he wasn’t necessarily ready to do anything to change it.

“Call her when we get back. I bet she would love to hear your voice,” she smiled, encouragingly and scooted closer to him so that she could rub her hand down his back in a comforting manner. It was something that she had done a million times before but something about this moment just felt different.

Tony turned his head to face her then, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest. His eyes traced over her face even as she stopped her ministrations, slowly coming to a stop at her lips before darting back up to her eyes. His tongue darted out just for a second across his own lips and that was when she realized that he was thinking about kissing her. Actually kissing her!

“Hey, Pepper,” he said, voice soft and velvety.

“What?” she squeaked out, a little terrified.

“Wanna make out?” he asked, and was that longing she could detect in his otherwise nonchalant delivery?

Was he actually serious?

For a moment she let her mind wander, let herself give in to the possibility of actually sharing a kiss with Tony Stark. She couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t imagined it before, she was only human after all and Tony was good looking and could even be quite charming when he wasn’t entirely self absorbed. She wondered if she would be able to taste the cheap wine on his full lips…

No.

There was no way that Tony was actually being serious.

She had just caught him in a vulnerable moment and he was deflecting the only way that he knew how and that was via flirtatious behavior. He didn’t want to kiss her because he liked her. Well, like he really liked her, as in he wanted to be with her for longer than a single night, where they were trapped together in a cheap hotel room with only one bed, her as his only option.

No.

She couldn’t do it no matter how much she wished to know what he tasted like, no matter how alluring he looked in the flickering light of the fireplace. She would regret anything that happened in the morning, and knowing herself she would end up resigning, if Tony didn’t just outright fire her. She may have been his longest lasting PA so far but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still expendable once he got what he wanted.

“Mr. Stark, you are being entirely inappropriate right now,” she answered him, adopting the most detached, work voice in her repertoire and immediately scooting away from him.

He frowned at her but didn’t try to close the gap between them again as he rubbed his eye.

“Back to Mr. Stark now, huh? I thought we were outside of office hours?”

“And sometimes I have to remind you of your boundaries.”

“Why? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“Why? Because you’re my boss, it’s inappropriate!” she reminded him, though she still felt a little flustered, even more so when he looked at her again the way he had before he asked her to make out, eyes intense and longing.

He smirked then leaned back up against the wall, his face and mannerisms melting away back to the normal facade of her cavalier boss. He raised his eyebrow to her and spoke. “I can’t help but notice that you didn’t deny having a boyfriend, only that it would be inappropriate given our working relationship.”

“Oh, please,” she groaned. She drained the rest of her cup, then stood up and tossed her pillows back onto the bed and pulled back the duvet.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.”

“Aww c’mon, Pepper, I’m sorry.”

He stood up and reached for her, just brushing his hand against her flannel shirt before she pulled away. He actually looked a little hurt by the rejection.

“I’m really tired, Mr. Stark and I’d really just like to go to bed now, please. I had your nightcap with you.”

“The slumber party was just getting started. We were having cheap booze, I told you a deep dark secret, there was an almost kiss. You owe me a deep dark secret, Ms. Potts.”

“Don’t count on it,” she said, sliding between the sheets and facing the opposite direction.

For a moment the room was silent except for the sound of the wind and snow outside the room and she thought that Tony might actually have given up. Then she listened to the sound of his shuffling feet and felt where the bed dipped in as he sat down at the very end, almost falling off the edge entirely as if he didn’t want to offend her by getting any closer to her.

“Look I really am sorry. You’re right, it’s been a long day, which is mostly my fault and then I just went a little too far. I didn’t mean anything by it and I am sorry if I offended you or hurt your feelings or whatever. I appreciate all you’ve done for us tonight. Are we good?” At that he did ever so carefully reach out and place his hand on top of her covered foot, a gentle weight meaning to convey his sincerity.

She appreciated the apology, and really had it been that big of a deal? Tony was just being Tony, it wasn’t his fault that she had started to get swept up in the moment. She sighed lightly against her pillow and lifted her head slightly to look at him. He had his head down but met her eyes when she looked at him.

“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she smiled after her customary phrase to let him know that all was forgiven.

His lips twitched up into a half smile. “That will be all Ms. Potts,” he returned the gesture and patted her leg before standing up.

Pepper had just laid her head back down when he spun back around.

“Actually, no, that’s not it, I’m sorry again. Can I at least get the top sheet? I’m a naturally hot-blooded male but even I need something to keep me warm at night,” he grinned and offered a mischievous wink.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep her own face neutral, a small smile slipping across her face as she sat up and pulled back the duvet again, grasping at the top sheet underneath and pulled it free from where it was tucked in at the end of the bed. She balled it up once it was free and tossed it into Tony’s waiting arms with a little more force than was strictly needed..

“Thank you, Ms. Potts.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark,” she said, her smile completely uncontained now and snuggled once more under the warm blanket, waiting for sleep to claim her.

Or at least she would have if Tony wasn’t so loud as he moved about the room, placing his pillows on the couch and spreading out his white sheet.

Next came the thunk of his heavy snow boots coming off and being dropped on the floor and she said a mental apology for whoever was stuck beneath them as she kept her eyes screwed shut, desperate for him to finish whatever he was doing and be quiet.

Then came the distinct sound of his belt clanging together as he undid the fasten and Pepper’s eyes shot open in disbelief.

Tony unabashedly stood beside the couch, the direction she happened to have been facing, and was actually undressing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t caught more than an eyeful before when she’d come to collect him in the mornings and he certainly never seemed to care about any level of nudeness. However, she thought he would at least attempt to have some modicum of decorum while they were sharing a room. Apparently not.

She could have looked away. She should have looked away. Alas, she watched him undress through squinted eyes in case she were caught, sleep would be easier to feign.

He pulled his green sweater up over his head and she watched as his white t-shirt beneath was caught up with it, revealing the well defined muscles of his back before he corrected the mishap and the t-shirt fell back down to cover it.

When she heard the zipper of his pants being undone she did squeeze her eyes shut, what was she even thinking spying on him like that, even if he was doing it right in front of her. She was ogling her boss in the same manner that she always got onto him for.

“Do you really have to do that right there?” she asked, frustration laden in her tone.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he said with a playful tease, like he knew exactly what she had been doing.

She just huffed and turned around the opposite direction, lest his dark chuckle tempt her to look again.

“Your virtue is safe, Ms. Potts, I had shorts on under my pants.”

“Why were you wearing---I don’t need to know.”

He laughed again. “Goodnight, Pep.”

“Goodnight, Tony.”

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

Tony really tried to fall asleep after that. He spread out under the sheet, across the couch, his legs just hung over the edges where he was a little it too tall. It wasn’t uncomfortable, he was used to curling up anywhere he could to sleep. However, like most nights, he couldn’t seem to be able to get his brain to shut off.

His mind was racing with thoughts, ideas, calculations. How if he adjusted the processor chips for one of Stark Industries missiles he could make it that little bit more accurate. Schematics came and went as he did the mental math and how long it would take to adjust versus the cost and if it was even worth it to tweek or just create a whole new line.

He had other ideas too. Ways to improve the intellicrops. An electronics line that could put Apple to shame.

Sometimes he thought about Pepper. Nothing dirty surprisingly. Just about her. The way she looked in the Malibu sunlight, her hair flared out all around her, or even here in Colorado bundled up in snow gear or her ridiculous flannel pajamas. The way that he sometimes caught her staring at him the same ways he knew she caught him staring at her. She took care of him. Listened to him when she clearly didn’t understand half of what he was talking about. Helped him keep the company going. Put up with his whims. Just thinking about her, even her scolding him could put a smile on his face. If he believed in love then he would definitely equate love with Pepper.

Thinking about love would make him think of his mother, then his father. Jarvis, Ana. What they all would think if they could see him now, spending every free moment drinking or chasing after the only version of companionship he could accept.

Wonder what the world would have been like if he had been in that car with his parents, if he’d told them that he would come. Or what would have happened if he would have spoken to them a little longer.

Hell sometimes he still wondered what happened to Shannon Dorman who gave him his first kiss in second grade when his father wasn’t able to make it to parent weekend at Andover.

The only difference in all these thoughts from a normal person is most people thought about them one at a time. For Tony it was everything all at once. Like someone had left a bunch of tabs open on a computer and they all were playing different music. It was hard to focus and distinguish one thought or emotion from another when he was left idle like this.

He thrummed his hand against the back of the couch, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room, so he stopped. He bounced his foot instead and turned his head to look out the window and watch the large chunks of snow as they continued to fall, not as heavy as before but still steady.

In lieu of counting sheep he tried counting snowflakes. He made it to nearly one thousand before it became just another tab running in the background of his mind.

He needed a drink. Or sex. He didn’t think Pepper would be offering though and he was well mannered enough that he would refrain from slinking away to the bathroom for some self love.

That left Tony with a drink. 10% alcohol content was a drop in the bucket for him but perhaps it would at least let him close out some of those tabs for a while. At least enough so that he could catch a few hours sleep.

Making up his mind, he threw back the covers and walked back over to the fireplace and retrieved the forgotten bottle. There was still a little over half left, it should theoretically do the trick.

He collapsed back against the couch and haphazardly strew the sheet back across him as he took a long pull straight from the bottle. He didn’t figure that Pepper would be wanting anymore tonight so there was no one left to be considerate for. After a couple more long pulls he could feel that little tingle start working its way across his body, warming him from the inside. Whiskey did it better but it was still a pleasant start.

“Tony...” Pepper’s tired voice called out to him and for the first time he noticed her blue eyes watching him.

“What?”

“Don’t drink anymore tonight.”

He tried not to bristle against the perceived admonishment. “Why not?”

“I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business what my boss does,” she said.

“Okay...as my friend then. Why?”

Pepper was quiet for a moment before she shifted around on the bed and clicked on the bedside light and sat up. Her hands were almost hidden by the cuffs of her pajamas but he could see how she twisted them together nervously, one of her only tells of discomfort.

“If you’re serious about what you said earlier, about agreeing with your Aunt...why not start now? Just little steps. You don’t need to drink, you don’t even like that stuff,” she finally spoke, her voice steady and sure despite her earlier nervousness. When Pepper committed to a decision she always went all in.

“Look, I’m sorry that I woke you. I just needed something to help me to sleep. This helps.”

“Well, what normally helps?”

He smiled.

Ah Pepper. Ever the problem solver.

“Normally, I have a glass of whiskey and well, company with me, to tire myself out. That helps usually. When I’m home I can work. Right now I have none of that,” he shrugged.

“Have you thought about taking a sleeping aid?”

Tony scoffed. “Uh. Yeah. That’s not going to work. You missed the early nineties with me so I forgive you, I just try to stay away from anything in pill format these days.”

Pepper brought both of her knees up to her chest and pulled the blanket back over her, one arm resting against her knee and propping her head up as she racked her mind for alternatives. “Is there nothing else that helps?”

“Working out, but I’m not sure you want me doing calisthenics while you’re trying to sleep.”

“What about talking?”

Tony thought it over. He remembered more than one night where he and Jarvis talked until he fell asleep. It was worth a go. At the very least the conversation was a distraction and he had a good partner to speak with.

He nodded his head. “Talking helps.”

“Then talk to me.”

“Aren’t we already?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, you can try and dig for slumber party gossip if you think it will help.”

“Ohhhh I knew you would warm up to the game,” he said, and took one final sip of the wine before standing and putting it on the bedside table beside Pepper so it would be out of his grasp.

“So, tell me about Virginia Potts. We’ve spent every day together for five years and I feel like I don’t know anything about you aside from your remarkable ability to keep my ass in line, your acumen for business, and your minor shoe addiction.”

Pepper shrugged and to his surprise took her own little drink from the bottle, seemingly nonplussed that he had been drinking straight from it like a heathen. “Well, I’m from a small town in Ohio…”

“Riverbend,” he finished.

She smirked back at him. “So you have checked up on me too.”

“Just your resume and the standard background check when you were originally hired. I did have to make sure you weren’t actually a crazy person you know after the pepper spray incident, you know? Happy wouldn’t let me breathe until I did.”

“And that’s why he is a great bodyguard.”

“Eh, jury is still out on that one. He did let you get by after all.”

There was another genuine smile. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was her smile. He could already feel his mind slowly beginning to calm, just with the little bit of banter between them.

“Anyways, my Dad used to run a farm with my Uncle Morgan but my Uncle was always a little flighty. When that was a bust my father started his own handyman business and then became a contractor. My mother was an elementary school secretary. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to get out of there.”

“Well, yeah. The land of corn and astronauts. There’s gotta be some reason all those guys wanted to leave Earth after a stint in your state. Nevermind the biography let's just get to the fun stuff.”

He could honestly sit and listen to Pepper talk about her life forever. She could be as detailed as a Tolkien novel and he’d never complain. He just wasn’t sure when he would ever get this opportunity for questions again, and while young Virginia fascinated him, he wanted to know more about Pepper now.

She raised her brow questioningly. “Like what?”

“What do you say to a fast money round? Favorite color?”

She laughed a little, surprised perhaps by the simplicity of the question. “Blue. You?”

“Red. Favorite food?”

“Pad thai.”

“Not bad. Mine is pasta carbonara. My mom…” he trailed off a little bit, suddenly struck by a memory of cooking with his mother in the kitchen. So much for forgetting. Pepper looked at him with concern as he mentally regrouped. “She made the best version of it. Authentic.”

His words hung thick in the air until Pepper broke the silence.

“Least favorite food?”

“Caviar. I know I’m probably destroying your elitist view of me but I had a terrible experience as a kid. Never again. You?” he said, grateful for the continuation of their game.

“Strawberries.”

“Really? You have a whole strawberry-blonde aesthetic going on,” he said pointing his finger at her hair.

“Yeah, I’m allergic. Like deathly allergic, so it��s a no go for me.”

“Bummer. There’s some irony for you. Do you want me to ban strawberries from the entire Stark Industries campus? Because I will.”

“I don’t think that is necessary.”

“Well, at least from the house. I’ll have Jarvis erase anything strawberry related from the grocery list.”

“It's really not-”

“Please?” he insisted. He could think of at least ten different running items off the top of his head with strawberry in them. She was in his home just as much if not more than he was, he wanted her to feel comfortable there. “You’re at my house more than your own and the least I can do is make you feel safe. Mi casa es su casa, y’know?

“I hardly think that I need protecting from the big bad strawberries but if it really means that much to your chivalrous pride then yes, delete strawberry related items from your grocery list,” she teased, but her soft smile let him know how it was appreciated.

“Done deal.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re welcome Ms. Potts. Now where were we? Oh yes, searching for your deep, dark secret. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, raising his brow expectantly.

Pepper groaned. “Didn’t you already ask that?”

“You didn’t answer the question. Look, it doesn’t have to be a boyfriend. Girlfriend maybe? You know there’s no judgement from me. It'd be like the pot calling the kettle black because you’ve seen the array of company I keep.”

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend, Tony, sorry to disappoint, and no boyfriend either.”

“Why not? This may be crossing a boundary but you are smoking hot. You can’t tell me you haven’t left a trail of broken hearts from Ohio to California.”

“Like you?”

“No, that’s coast to coast. Global even,” he said with a wink that he knew would draw an eye roll from her.

“Not that it is any of your business,” she predictably began with the eye roll, “but I really haven’t. There was someone in college that I thought maybe...he didn’t want a partner though he wanted a trophy. The people I have dated in between have never lasted very long and I don’t have the time for that right now anyways.”

“Because of me?” he questioned.

“No. I’m just focused on my career and I have been since college. It’s hard finding a person who isn’t intimidated by a powerful woman who knows what she wants. You’d be surprised by all the fragile egos out there.”

“I’m really not. You forget about the people I’ve been expected to mingle with my entire life?”

She smiled at his words and took a few moments to collect her thoughts, her face pinching together in a frown. “I don’t want to compromise my goals just because my partner thinks barefoot and pregnant is a more appropriate title for a woman.”

Tony thought her feelings were perfectly understandable. He couldn’t ever imagine Pepper relegated to taking a back seat in her own life. Not to say that being a mother is less than a corporate business woman, but that idea that someone would want to repress who Pepper was just to fit their own outdated ideals of what a family and relationship should be.

“I agree, Pep, that’s ridiculous.”

If she was shocked by his response she hid it well. Maybe she wasn’t though. He always thought he was a progressive guy, even if sometimes he could be a bit contradictory in his actions. That was mostly for show though. The carefully crafted Tony Stark persona.

“Besides, when would I ever really even have the time to date someone seriously with our schedules? We’re in a fast paced world, where plans can change on a dime…”

“Like spending an extra couple of days skiing, snowboarding and getting caught in a blizzard?”

She held out her hand towards him. “Exactly. Who would understand that? I feel like I’d spend more time justifying my work than actually having a relationship.”

“So, it is my fault then?” he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Ugh. Maybe a little. Don’t feel too bad,” she said, waving his feelings off. “The last time I did have a semi successful date, the guy ended it with what I’m sure he thought was an earth shattering kiss but he literally kissed like a fish. It was disgusting and ruined the entire night.”

Tony actually cackled at that anecdote. “So, no second date?”

“Oh my god. Definitely not. Completely turned me off of the concept for the foreseeable future,” she laughed with him.

“When was that?”

Pepper thought about it a moment. “About a year ago.”

Tony flinched. “Oof. You sure you don’t wanna make out? You shouldn’t let that be your last kiss.”

“Thanks, tempting but no.”

“Ooh I’ve gone from an outright no to tempting, huh?” Pepper opened up her mouth to protest but he immediately cut her off, pointing his finger at her. “No, no, don’t take it back. You said it. That’s going to be tattooed on my brain for a very long time.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

They both fell silent after that, just enjoying each other’s company. Tony shifted on the couch folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Pepper shifted to lay back down on her pillow, she still laid on her side facing him though, he felt her eyes watching him.

“What’s on your mind?” she finally asked.

“Do you ever think you’ll have a family one day?”

“I’ve really never thought about it, to be honest.”

“I find that hard to believe. Even I have thought of it.”

“You have?”

“Hard not to when there’s a new paternity suit every year.”

That was the truth. He had thought of family in the traditional manner of course. Settling down like Aunt Peggy said with a wife and 2.5 children like the American dream dictated. He didn’t see it ever happening, but sometimes it was a nice thought if he didn’t think he would turn out just like his father, cold and neglectful.

The paternity suits were another beast. None ever panned out and he expected none ever would. He may be promiscuous but he wasn’t an idiot. Still, it was always an interesting couple of weeks wondering what if. He wasn’t the type that would pay the mother off he knew that much. He would take an active part in any child of his life, fears be damned.

“I guess it’s not something I’ve ever pined for. Maybe someday in the far off future where I’m the CEO of my own company. Maybe then.”

He turned his head to face her. “You gunning for my job, Potts?

She smiled tiredly back at him. “Maybe I am. I have to keep you on your toes somehow.”

“You’d probably do a better job. You like all the boring details of the job. I just want to be left alone to create.”

“Please. Don't sell yourself short. Creating is your passion, but you have an eye for business. If you didn't then I don't think this company would have survived the last decade and don't say it was all Obadiah either. You're way more progressive than he is.”

“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, weren't you already concerned with how you'd fit my ego in the room though? I don't want to suffocate you.”

“I think I can manage this once. Tony, can I ask you something?” she asked.

Something in the tone of her voice made him look over at her. She was chewing at the bottom of her lip in indecision so he had a pretty good idea that like earlier in the night, whatever she wanted to say was probably something that he wouldn’t like.

“Prying for the deep, dark secrets again?” he asked, going for levity and turning his attention back to the ceiling.

“Why did we stay here after the conference?” she asked softly.

Of course she asked that.

“Just wasn’t ready to go back.”

“You didn’t even want to go to the conference and then you stay here longer? You hate the cold and snow.”

Tony shifted into a slouched position, one arm curving across the back of the couch as he drummed his fingers against the material again. He could feel his heart begin to race as he debated whether he wanted to tell Pepper the truth or not. This was one of those things that had been floating along in his myriad of thoughts and ideas, keeping him up at night the closer that the date approached.

Pepper had shown good faith in him all night, humoring him even though he knew she had to be exhausted. After his behavior he supposed an explanation was the very least that he could provide her.

“I didn’t always hate it,” he began gingerly.

Pepper seemed to make a decision then, sitting back up and moving herself and her pillows to the opposite side of the bed. She left the duvet upturned and patted the empty space beside her invitingly.

“I trust you,” was all she said.

He stood up from the couch and let the sheet fall away as he stretched out his limbs. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he was way too long to be scrunched up on the couch and was thankful for the reprieve. Tony wrapped the sheet back around his body as he slid beneath the warmth of the duvet and flipped the cover up over them both. He turned on his side to face Pepper, propping his chin up with his arm and she mirrored his movements. Tony tried to use the quiet moment to gather his thoughts and not to think about how the warmth he felt from the mattress was from where her body had lain.

“Today...well, yesterday,” he conceded given the hour, “was my mother’s birthday.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispered and shook her head.

“You wouldn’t. I keep my parents close to the vest as much as I can these days,” he shrugged and absolved her from any guilt she might be feeling. Pepper hated not knowing important information.

“I grew up in New York as you know, and she used to love it when it snowed. When I was younger we would build snowmen, snow angels, we made ice cream out of the snow and shared hot cocoa. Whatever you could think of. When I was older, the week of her birthday my parents would take me out of boarding school, and since it doesn’t usually snow in April, we would go to the Alps or Aspen or wherever else and ski, snowboard, whatever. It was one of the only times I ever remember feeling like I was really a part of the family. When she died…” he trailed off softly.

“It was snowing that night?” Pepper inferred. She always knew what he meant to say.

He nodded slowly. “The snow and cold didn’t bring me any kind of joy anymore.”

“So, why now?” she asked gently.

He had come this far. May as well go all in.

“If we’d gone back to Malibu I would have done my best impression of drinking myself to death, like I do every year. I don’t know. I guess something Aunt Peggy said struck a chord and I wanted to try and honor Mom a better way. I still drank but when I’m in public it’s easier to stop. To control it. There’s no control when I’m alone.”

He ducked his head in shame not wanting to see any kind of judgement on Pepper’s face. She knew he had problems. How couldn’t she? She was always one step behind him cleaning up his messes and he had even admitted his problem to her tonight. He just wasn’t sure she knew the full extent. The reason why he was on full lockdown and unavailable on certain dates because he would rather drink himself to death than have to remember.

“If you needed someone to keep you company, all you had to do was ask,” she answered him quietly and he dared to lift his head and take a peek at her face from beneath his hair, trying to gauge the sincerity behind the words.

“I don’t pay you enough for that.”

She immediately frowned. “I don’t need you to pay me. I am your friend, Tony. If you’re struggling, I want to help.”

He wanted to believe her. Oh how bad he wanted to believe her. He could see the sincerity on her face and hear it in her words, He had just had so many experiences that told him the opposite. That everyone had a motive to be close with him, no one really cared. Until Rhodey and Happy. And now Pepper.

He smiled sheepishly and wiped a tear that he didn’t know was there away with the back of his hand. “I guess I don’t know how to ask for help.”

“We’ll work on it,” she said and reached out and brushed the stray hair from his face, her hand lingering as it softly caressed his cheek.

“Hey, Pep,” he began hoarsely, his eyes downturned to the pattern of the duvet, ”in the spirit of asking, I guess I should start learning now.”

“Anything,” she replied honestly and that made him grin for the ghost of a moment.

“Do you think maybe when we get back you could put together a list of some, uh, outpatient facilities for my, uh...you know,” he stumbled.

She moved her hand from his cheek down to grasp his free hand and squeezed it in hers. “Of course.”

“Maybe keep it quiet from Obie and everyone else in case it doesn’t take.”

“It’s a process, Tony. You’ll get there in your own time, but yeah. I can keep it quiet as long as you’ll at least tell Rhodey. He’d want to support you too. And Peggy.”

He clutched her hand in his and ran his thumb across her skin soothingly. “You drive a hard bargain, Potts. You sure you aren’t trying to take my job?”

“Not today.”

“Then I accept your terms,” he said squeezing her hand again.

“Good. Do you think you can sleep?”

“Maybe. I feel a little better.”

“Well. Just try. I’m here if you need me.”

He wanted to tell Pepper that being in such a close proximity to her was part of what was keeping him awake now but he didn’t. Instead he carefully turned and clicked the light off before settling back into his pillow. He wasn’t about to give up this moment for anything, even if he didn’t sleep a wink.

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Pepper couldn’t believe that she actually was sharing a bed with Tony right now. It had been awhile since her declaration to get some sleep but even though she was dead on her feet she couldn’t seem to get relaxed enough to drift off. Maybe that also had something to do with the fact that Tony was still loosely holding her hand in his and every time he took a breath she could feel it tickle against her skin.

What did all of this mean? Did it even mean anything? She had always prided herself on enforcing boundaries and making sure Tony always stayed on the other side of the invisible line but tonight she felt like they both had leaped over it hand in hand. Skipping over the line between professionalism and friendship right into something more. Just what she could not say yet. Not even in her own mind. It wasn’t able to be defined yet. All she knew was that this little detour in the snowy mountains of Colorado had been a turning point in their relationship, seemingly for the better.

If Tony was comfortable enough now to tell her about such intimate information about his family and his drinking, reaching out to her for help, then that could only be for the better. He didn’t have many people he could trust like that and she was proud to be counted among them.

Were they still just friends though?

“Pepper, I can hear you thinking from over here, what’s on your mind?” he asked groggily, his hand closing around hers once more, causing her to flinch in surprise.

“I thought you were asleep?”

“The room is only big enough for one loud thinker not two. So spill it, what’s going on?” he asked, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal dark brown eyes.

Oh, nothing, just thinking about how distracting it is to be touching you and sharing a bed.

“Just the usual. Wondering if we’ll be able to fly out of here tomorrow. Thinking of everything that will need to be pushed back if we’re not.”

He didn’t buy it for a second she knew but he hummed in assent and kept his eyes locked on her own.

“What?” she chuckled nervously under his gaze.

“Hey, Pepper, now do you want to make out?”

There was something different about the way he asked her this time. Tony wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t vulnerable any longer. Enough time had passed that he had seemed to come back to himself which made this even scarier than all the other times. This time she didn’t doubt the sincerity as he held her gaze, jaw locked firmly in place in anticipation of her response. She was finding it harder to find reasons to turn him down.

“Tony…” she began, hoping for her brain to come up with something. “I know today has been difficult and we have had some really hard and emotional conversations…”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not that compromised,” he grinned, his face lit up only by the moonlight pouring in from the window.

“I just don’t think that’s going to happen,” she finished lamely.

“Why not?”

She had to give him something real or he would never stop. She slowly pulled her hand away from his, instantly missing the warmth he had provided and hid it beneath her pillow. “I can’t be just another one of those girls, Tony.” He would have to understand that.

“Is that what you think, Pepper?” he asked, unable to mask the small amount of hurt from creeping onto his face and in his tone. He actually looked like a wounded animal.

All she could offer was a shrug in response because it was exactly what she thought from the moment that she had met him until this evening when she finally started to see that other side of him.

“You’re not, Pep,” he reassured her and reached back out and found her hand beneath the pillow anyways. “God you’re not.”

“What’s changed?” she dared to ask.

“You have always been different than everyone else. You’re not someone that I could or even want to throw away. You mean more to me than anyone else in my life. I thought it was obvious by the way that I am a complete and utter disaster without you. I have been wanting this since you first came through my office doors and until tonight I wasn’t completely sure, but I know you like me too. Don’t you?” he asked so earnestly, his eyes opened wide and his eyebrows raised. He looked like a literal puppy, begging to be let in from the cold.

“Tony…” she started to deflect again but he cut her off.

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t, I’m not going to fire you or anything. I don’t want you to ever be worried about that because like you said, we’re friends right?”

She nodded her head gently.

“Good. I just want to know that I’m not crazy, Pepper. That I’m not the only one that gets these weird little butterflies in the pit of my stomach whenever we’re together. You feel it too, right?”

Pepper hesitated a long time, instinctively chewing at her bottom lip again. She had another choice to make. Another boundary to shatter. Should she do it? She let loose a deep full body sigh, ignoring how shaky the exhale really was before she looked him in the eye.

“You’re not crazy,” she admitted.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You’re my boss,” she simply offered. Another truth. It was inappropriate. The press would always talk about the power imbalance and trash her for falling for it like all the others.

Tony had the nerve to scoff at her words. “Please, if anything you are my boss.”

“Okay then. You don’t do relationships,” she tried again.

“I could try. I want to try. With you,” he clarified gently, his voice lowering to that honeyed timber she loved.

Her heart wanted to sing with his admission. In fact it was. She could feel how quickly it was pumping, the adrenaline sending shockwaves all across her body as she thrummed with anticipation. Her mind however knew otherwise. There was always a but.

“Tony...you’re not ready for that yet.”

And he wasn’t. Her brain knew that even as her heart rebelled. Tony was a mess. On this trip alone he had been with at least three different girls. He was slowly coming to terms with being an alcoholic and what that meant for his personal and professional future as he started to seek help. That was on top of his already full work plate. He didn’t have the time or the mental capacity right now to try and begin a new relationship and to do it the right way. He had no idea the work it would entail. Maybe someday in the faroff future, but not tonight.

His face dropped as his eyes flickered across her face, his hand going loose in hers so she could pull away but she didn’t. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bit of a mess aren’t I?” he asked, flashing a pained toothy smile. “It’s fine.”

“Look, I’m not saying no forever,” she clarified. She was helpless against that face.

“So, there’s a chance?” he asked, hopefully.

She squeezed his hand. “Perhaps.”

“Well, in that case I will do my best to become the kind of man you deserve.”

It was probably the most sincere declaration of affection she had ever received and she tried to hide the dopey grin in her pillow. That made him smile back and this time it was him who pulled his hand free to run the back of his hand down her face almost reverently, taking his time and just soaking the moment up.

“Hey, Tony…”

“Yeah?”

“Want to make out?” she asked, coyly.

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as his head shot off the pillow. “But you said--”

“On one condition,” she continued unperturbed.

“What would that be?”

She waited until he settled back down and then looked away from him nervously. “After tonight...we pretend like it never happened.”

“Never?”

“Never. Can you do that?”

“I can.”

“We can count this as an experiment. Maybe we won’t even like it, maybe it will be too weird,” she shrugged.

“You know me. Always willing to sacrifice anything needed in the name of science,” he teased and scooted closer to her.

She held her breath when she felt his body brush up against her own as he tentatively leaned in closer to her. He brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear and searched her face seemingly for any sign of doubt of discomfort. Anything saying that she was uncomfortable. Aside from her heart beating like a freight train inside her chest though she felt perfectly normal.

“You’re sure?” he asked again. He liked to play the field but she knew that he was always all about consent.

“I’m sure,” she spoke so quietly she could barely even hear her own words.

Pepper met his lips halfway and only had half a second of panic that this was really happening before his lips met hers and with it threw out any sense of logic or reason. Instead her mind was flooded with the happy influx of endorphins as her heart continued to pound away, the fluttering of the butterflies in her stomach melting away into something hotter as it spread across her body.

Her hand reached up to tangle itself in his hair, gently pulling and encouraging him. When he opened his mouth to hers she almost giggled like a school child when she realized she could taste that cheap wine on his tongue like she wondered earlier and also knowing that it had never tasted better than it did right now.

It was like a spark had been lit between them and nothing else existed.

All that she knew were his lips, the smell of his aftershave and collage blending together in perfect harmony, some kind of leather and sandalwood type smell, not his usual expensive brand and she found that curious. His hands rove from caressing her cheek to burying themselves in her hair as well, or running up and down her back softly. It made a shiver go down her backside and he only pulled her closer for it.

She actually whimpered when he pulled away, mouth still parted and wanting as they both were left breathless.

“Weird?” he asked, after a moment, his sweet breath tickling her nose, he was still so close.

“No, I don’t think so,” she immediately shook her head.

“Good, once more for science?” he asked, but it was rhetorical and she never got the chance to respond.

Oh, how she wished that this never had to end. That it was the future already and Tony’s life was put together the way that they both hoped it would be. That the endless parade of booze and women was over and he was celebrating his sobriety and they were away celebrating. But it wasn’t. And this did have to end before it got too far.

Pepper pulled away from him slowly, letting him chase her and kiss her softly a couple more times as he came back down from the rush. She put a finger to his lips to prevent him from anymore but he just kissed her index finger instead.

“I think that’s enough for one evening,” she said, regrettably.

He looked as disappointed as she did but also satisfied in a way that she had never seen him except maybe after some breakthrough on a project. His hand stayed buried in her hair, brushing and pulling at the strands.

“It will never be enough. But I think we have collected sufficient data for the future,” he grinned dopily in the waning light of the moon.

This time Pepper did giggle and she blamed it on the swell of emotions mixing with her utter exhaustion.

“You could say that,” she agreed when her giggles subsided.

He gazed at her longingly and licked his lips, her attention instantly flying to his tongue. She knew what he tasted like now, and she didn’t ever want to forget it.

“Since this night never happened, might I trouble you for one more thing?” he asked hesitantly.

She clenched her teeth worried about what kind of favor exactly he had in mind and if it was going to put a damper on their evening.

“What is it?” she asked cautiously.

“Can I hold you tonight?” he asked, his voice barely coming out in a soft rumble that sent more shivers down her body.

Of all the requests she wasn’t expecting that one. Not something so innocent.

“Well, since it never happened,” she simply said with a shrug of her shoulder and moved in closer beside him.

The hand that had been in her hair moved as he laid on his back and let her tuck herself in against his chest comfortably, before encircling her, the reassuring weight of his bicep against her back. She tentatively let her own arm creep across his torso and gently fist into the fabric of his shirt as she inhaled his scent beneath her. She heard more than felt when he kissed the top of her head.

“Goodnight Ms. Potts,” he said, his voice already thick with exhaustion. She thought he might actually be able to get some sleep tonight.

“Goodnight Mr. Stark.”

They missed the brilliant sunrise the next morning, and the gentle rapping at the door of the nervous general manager checking in on his guests. When she woke it was with the comfort of Tony’s arms still around her as he snored softly in the morning light.

They made it back to Malibu of course. Back to Stark Industries and deadlines and projects. Tony did start at an outpatient program and he did make that call to Peggy Carter to apologize and to his best friend to let him know what he was doing.

They never spoke about that night.

Whenever, she’d start to feel like it was all just some strange, exhaustion induced fever dream though, she would catch Tony looking at her. Not the way that he always had with what she figured was nothing more than base lust. No, now he looked at her almost lovingly. Reverently. Hopefully. Like she hung the stars and the moon and nothing else existed in that moment. Then she was reminded of that moment. How he looked, how he felt pressed against her.

If she ever did start to forget though and his gaze was not enough to remind her, she would come and find him. At home, at work. She’d slip away to where they could be alone and he could remind her once more, that what happened was real. What she was feeling for him and he for her was real

They could never talk about it just yet.

Instead it was like it never happened.

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