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hedonistpoet06 · 24 days

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What If The Storm Ends? - Part 2 Five Hargreeves x Female OC

'What if Five's time during that first apocalypse was slightly different, what if he wasn't alone for all those years?'

Chapter synopsis: Still slightly stunned by the presence of another human being in the apocalypse, Octavia decides to mediate the tension by offering Five food back at her base. Despite both obtaining superhuman abilities, Five couldn't be more different from this bubbly stranger he happened to stumble across. Five finds himself in a complicated predicament as he naturally gravitates towards Octavia's warmth but he cannot forget his most important priority, getting back to his family. The two decide to strike up a deal beneficial for their survival, after all, strength is in numbers, right?

Authors Note: I don't know if this work is showing up on any of the tags i've listed it under. Is this a common problem for anyone else? I've never posted on tumblr before so I'm still trying to figure out the ropes ;w;. Let me know if this is appearing under any tags for you guys.

Nevertheless, enjoy this chapter!

Word Count: 7197

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

ii. 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

After almost an hour of walking, Octavia had guided Five to where she had been staying for the past two years. The walk was pleasant but mostly silent. Octavia would try to ignite some form of small talk whilst Five kicked a rock along the ground to keep himself entertained.

In reality, Five was still processing the fact that he was no longer the last man on earth after the destruction of the apocalypse, a notion which he believed to be true for almost two entire years. Yet here Octavia was, another superhuman survivor. She wasn't just an apparition of his malnourished delirium, she was real and warm to the touch as Five had evidently felt earlier that day when he took her hand in his.

The pair had finally reached what Five had presumed was her dwelling. It was located amongst the outskirts of the city and consisted of the remains of a decent sized concrete building with the roof intact, it had to have been no larger than a small street front store.

"Welcome to my humble abode. It's not much but it does the job." Octavia pulled back a large sheet of metal which acted as her front door. Five followed her inside and was met with the insides of her shelter.

It wasn't gloriously spacious by any means but it was just big enough to fit a mattress, a few milk crates where she kept her belongings in and a small wooden desk, like those you'd find in a classroom.

"This is where you've been living this whole time?" Five noticed the scarcity of her settlement and although his own was far from luxurious, he felt somewhat uneasy at the bareness of her space.

Five couldn't find it in himself to judge however, especially if it had helped her survive against the past two bitter winters.

"Yeah. I think it used to be some storage shed for a high school. It survived the impact well enough... it gets kinda cold during the winter but it gets the job done." Octavia explained and Five agreed, it had most of its four walls and a roof which was rare considering the demolished state of the city.

"It's practical. I like it." Five complimented and Octavia smiled proudly before walking over to one of the plastic milk crates. She knelt in front of it and began to rummage for the tinned goodness she had promised Five.

"Why thank you." Five regretted inflating her pride any further but remembered that she was the one who offered him food so he bit his tongue.

"Here, catch." Octavia retrieved a small metal tin of baked beans from the crate before standing up again and tossing the can to Five.

Octavia was secretly impressed by his abnormally sharp reflexes as he retracted a gloved hand from one of his pockets and caught the can without fumbling.

"Thanks." He said curtly but the boy couldn't ignore the intense rumbling that erupted in his stomach as he saw the dusty label that read "Original Baked Beans In Rich Tomato".

Five hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning when he mistakenly decided to test the myth of Twinkies lasting forever, turns out it was just in fact a myth and they too have an expiry date like most edible things.

"I only have one fork and a mildly bent spoon so take your pick." Octavia walked over to where Five was standing in the middle of the room and gestured to the two utensils she had clasped in her hand.

"I'll take the spoon." Five said although he really could not find it in himself to care as his hunger started to overwhelm him.

Five watched as Octavia made herself comfy on her bed, which was really just two old mattresses put together with a pile of some tattered blankets on top. She pressed her back up against the concrete wall and began to open the metal tab on the can.

She then looked up at Five, who was staring back at her awkwardly with a can of beans in one hand and a disfigured spoon in the other.

"You can sit down, you know? I don't bite." Octavia chuckled and patted a spot on her makeshift bed.

"I'll take your word for it." Five decided that he would rather sit comfortably then make a spectacle of himself eating whilst standing up. He sunk down on the old mattress but ensured that he still kept some distance between him and Octavia, who was still a stranger to him.

"Bon appetit, Five." She said as Five opened his own can eagerly. His mouth salivated at the sight of the beans drenched in sauce and immediately began to shovel the food into his mouth.

Five was never a fan of baked beans, his mother often prepared it as a side dish at breakfast time but he always refused it. Now, Five was going on more than 24 hours without food and he did not care about his usual disdain towards the food.

He was forced to put that picky part of himself to bed a long time ago when survival became his top priority.

"Damn. Someone's hungry." Octavia stifled a smile that began to grow on her face as she watched the boy next to her chow down on the canned food in an almost feral way.

"And you're not?" Five replied, he then brought the sleeve of his jacket up to his lips and wiped the leftover residue away.

"Oh, I am. I just haven't lost my table manners two years into the apocalypse, that's all." Octavia let out a small giggle at her own remark. Five paused his eating to glance over at the girl next to him, he noticed the calm and poised manner in which she held her fork. Now Five just felt embarrassed.

He cursed himself for growing flustered so quickly, after all why should he find it in himself to care? It was the apocalypse and the table manners which his adoptive father incessantly drilled into him had completely left his mind.

"How are you so... perky?" Five asked, he was genuinely intrigued how someone who had survived as long as he had managed to be so giggly. It was borderline infuriating and slightly unexpected for Five.

He always was a cynical person, even before the apocalypse. Five knew he was smarter than his own siblings and often gloated about it. He had a natural inclination towards mathematics and physics thanks to the nature of his powers but his intellect only heightened his ego.

"What do you mean?" Octavia lowered her fork, taken aback by his question. She knew that her lively attitude did not correlate to their situation; however she found it completely futile to adopt a pessimistic mindset when everything else outside was crumbling.

"I mean you. You're so bubbly for someone in our predicament." Five explained and watched as Octavia's brows furrowed at his words. He felt his cheeks turn warm, he hated how he sounded like one of his siblings who would often imbue humour with their respective powers. "That pun wasn't intentional." He insisted and Octavia gave him an unconvincing look.

"Well, I guess I kind of always have been. Don't get me wrong, I certainly wasn't jumping for joy when the whole world ended but I guess I quickly realised that there was no good just wallowing in my own despair. I just had to keep going..." Octavia explained as she picked away at the remains of the cans label.

Five watched her nimble fingers scratch away the adhesive sticker and started to dwell on what she had said. Despite the morbid context, Five secretly admired how her bright attitude had remained continuous.

"Just had to keep going, huh?" He asked. The ambiguity of her words had reminded him too much of himself.

"Yeah, I always did kind of hold out hope that I'd see something or someone and that would reassure me that I wasn't completely alone out here." Octavia looked over to where Five was situated on the other end of the mattress.

"And yet when you did you thought it would be a good idea to trap me in your bubble?" Five teased.

"You had a gun! And besides, stranger danger still applies in the apocalypse." Octavia exclaimed and threw her hand towards the direct of Five's rifle which he had propped up against the wall.

"I mean, I'm technically still a stranger to you." He stated truthfully.

Although Five had only met Octavia that day he concluded that they gravitated towards each other so comfortably because of their mutual connection through their powers.

"As am I." Octavia retorted confidently and Five softly rolled his eyes, a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he continued to eat his beans less feverishly now.

"How old were you when your powers first manifested?" Five spoke up.

The surrealness of the day had begun to catch up on him and the boy had to remind himself that he was in the company of not only just another living person, but a person with superhuman abilities much like himself. Only Octavia wasn't like himself or his adoptive siblings or even the other mysterious children who he shared a birthday with, she was an entirely different entity. She existed outside of his world and time and Five found himself increasingly fascinated.

"I was four." She admitted.

"And how did it happen?" Five pried further.

"You're asking a lot of questions." Octavia smirked, giving the boy a taste of his own medicine.

"You're the first person I've seen in two whole years and you expect me to not ask questions?" Five declared and this caused Octavia to chuckle softly again.

"No, you're allowed to be curious. But does this mean I get to interrogate you next?" She abandoned her now empty can of beans to the floor. She then crossed her legs in an attempt to get comfortable and shifted to face Five.

"Depends on if I'm feeling nice enough." Five said vaguely, keeping the aloofness present in his voice. The truth was he didn't know what to tell her, his situation wasn't exactly the easiest to explain.

Five was positive that Octavia would recognize his affiliation with the academy if they both lived in the same city despite the years between them.

"Well if you must know, I made my first forcefield because I didn't want to take a bath." Octavia revealed.

"Pardon?" Five had choked on the last bite of food which he had mistakenly put in his mouth.

He was caught off guard by the unserious nature of Octavia's statement. He was not expecting that. Five watched out of the corner of his eye as Octavia tried to hold back a smile from forming at his simultaneous struggle of choking and chuckling. She thought the humorous sight before her was almost endearing.

"Let me elaborate, when I was younger I used to run circles around the living room hiding from my Mom because she would chase me to take my nightly bath. I wasn't a dirty or unhygienic child, believe me." She started and Five found himself grinning at her words.

"Sure." He quipped back, eyeing the state of her dirtied jacket. In all fairness, he was not exactly the pinnacle of hygiene at the moment.

"Watch it." Octavia said menacingly before she continued to speak, "I just didn't like bath time because I knew that bedtime would be straight after and I didn't want the day to be over yet. One night, my Mom was chasing me and I turned my head to look back at her. I could see the horror on her face as I ran straight towards the dining table. I should have split my head open on the corner of the table but I didn't. I braced for the impact but I never felt any pain. And when I was brave enough to finally open my eyes, I was surrounded by a soft purple sphere of light." Octavia's eyes softened as she narrated the memory, a mixture of both nostalgia and melancholy lacd her voice.

Five listened attentively to the recollection of her memory as he compared it to his own and that of his siblings.

"So it sounds like they first materialised as a natural consequence of self defence." Five assumed based on the information she had provided.

"I mean, I guess? That's a very fancy way to put it." Octavia tilted her head, shrugging her shoulders as she looked at him. She had never really thought about it in that regard. Her powers were always a part of her, like her cells and DNA, her power was hardwired into her very being and she knew it was what made her different.

"What did your parents do, when they found out that is?" Five asked.

"Panic probably. But after they got over the initial shock that they had a super human baby, they tried their hardest to keep everything discreet and give me a somewhat normal childhood. My mom was an elementary school teacher so she left her job to homeschool me during those years when I couldn't quite keep my power under control. They were always scared that I'd accidentally slip up and show my power off at school and then the government would hunt me down and do research on me like some kind of lab rat." Octavia explained and she felt a complicated smile grace her face as she remembered her youth.

Octavia knew that her powers had to be kept a secret, but she was never kept a secret herself. She knew that her parents loved her an immense amount and they proved that through their actions.

"Seems like they made quite the sacrifice to keep you safe." Five replied, his voice slightly solemn which surprised Octavia.

Five couldn't deny the familiar feeling of jealousy that washed over him at Octavia's description. It was the same bitterness he felt when he'd walk past a park and see children playing or when his siblings and himself would go on missions and reunite hostages with their families. He was resentful of the way the parents would weep and hold their child as if they were never going to feel them in their embrace ever again.

"They did. I'm eternally grateful for how much they gave up for my benefit. But don't get me wrong, they didn't deprive me of a normal childhood. I wasn't on house arrest my whole life because of what I could do, my parents were just cautious. Cautious of who came to the house, cautious of how my temperament affected my powers and such. But other than that I had a pretty normal childhood." Five tried to subdue the envy that coursed through his being as Octavia spoke.

"Is that so?" Five asked, curious by what she meant exactly. He knew that being home schooled wasn't a part of the typical American nuclear family checklist, Five wondered to himself if Octavia had also felt the same isolation which he had.

"Well, every summer when dad could take time off work we'd drive out of the city to my grandparents farm up north. We'd spend every summer there with my cousins and I could just let loose and be a kid." Octavia watched as Five nodded softly at her response, he was absorbing every detail that she gave him and tried to picture it in his mind.

Five tried his hardest to imagine what her childhood would have looked like in stark contrast to his own, the rural nature of the farm and the company of her family sounded almost heavenly to him.

Although Octavia felt slightly embarrassed at her mindless rambling at this point, she was also appreciative of how he let her speak so freely, how he listened so diligently. His snarky demeanour that she had gotten well acquainted with since they met only hours ago was gone and was replaced by something almost curious.

"Sounds like you had a good life before all this." Five forced himself to bury his jealousy deep within some dark cavern of his chest and tried to conjure a genuine response.

"I really did," She said, her voice mellow as she began to reminisce on the nostalgic details of her youth,"My cousins were all older than me and they knew about my powers. It was our big family secret. Although, there was only one strict rule enforced which was absolutely no force fields allowed on the farm." Octavia chuckled at her recollection of her grandmother's authoritative voice.

"I don't blame them, they're not exactly pleasant to be trapped in." Five huffed in amusement and Octavia shot him a playful glare before continuing.

"My family used to have this joke that I'm our great-something-grandma reincarnated from the Salem witch trials and I'm here to enact my revenge." Five chuckled as she tried her hardest to sound wicked.

"A witch reincarnated, huh?" Five had to admit he found the inside joke slightly comical.

"I wish. As cool as it would be to be related to a witch, I think I'm just the anomaly in the family." Octavia sighed and Five was painfully reminded again of how different their separate lives were before the apocalypse started.

"I wish I could relate to that sentiment." His voice was barely above a whisper but Octavia managed to hear it clearly.

"What part, being the witch or the anomaly in the family?" She asked and Five instantly regretted opening his mouth to respond.

"The latter." He silently prayed that his dry tone would encourage Octavia to not poke any further, unfortunately it had the opposite effect.

"You have a big family?" She questioned, eager to know what the boy meant.

"We aren't talking about me here." Five dismissed her quickly.

"You said you'd tell me about yourself once I opened up." Octavia recalled their agreement they had made only moments ago.

"If I was feeling nice enough." Five replied quickly, making a heavy vocal emphasis on the 'if' at the start of his sentence.

"And are you?" She queried.

"I'll decide once I finish eating, bubbles." Five smiled at himself for the genius nickname he endowed on her and grinned even harder when he saw her jaw clench in annoyance.

"Hey! Don't call me that!" The blonde girl exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well don't call me Cinco!" Octavia let out a melodramatic groan and rolled her head back against the wall in defeat. Five let out a small huff of irritation at her childish behaviour however his smirk was still plastered on his face and didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"You are vexing, you know that?" Her head was still resting against the wall however she tilted it slightly to look over at Five.

"I'm surprised you know what that word means." Five hurled back.

"Dickhead." Octavia mumbled but Five didn't take her profanity to heart, "You know when you're homeschooled it only takes about two to three hours maximum to complete the assigned work." She stated and Five tried not to scoff again at the irony of her words. He was no stranger to the concept of homeschooling.

"I'm aware." Five for once was being truthful. Although the academies teaching regions were mostly tailored towards their superpowers he also had to complete traditional academics.

"Well then you should know that with that abundance of spare time that I had the opportunity to indulge in literature, meaning I have developed an extensive lexicon." Octavia proclaimed and Five chuckled at her confidence.

"And you called me the nerd?" He mocked Octavia's earlier sentiment when he was attempting to explain his power in a sophisticated way.

Octavia's face flushed at Five's remark, however she quickly mumbled some curse word under her breath before changing the subject.

"What about you?" She asked, obviously deflecting Five's previous taunting.

"Hm?" He pressed his lips into a thin line, not exactly sure of what she meant by her question.

"How old were you when you found out you had powers?" Octavia elaborated and Five shrugged his shoulders in a casual manner.

"Not entirely sure, our powers have been ingrained into me and my siblings' lives since before I could even remember-" Five began to speak but he was quickly interrupted by Octavia's exclamation.

"Ah hah! So you do have siblings!" Five let out an irritated sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Shit." How had he let that slip so easily? Especially after all his effort trying to shift their earlier conversation away from his past.

"I knew I could make you crack." Octavia laughed and Five was absolutely furious with himself. His hands tensed around the empty can of beans in an attempt to conceal his annoyance at both himself and at her.

He wasn't directly annoyed at Octavia exactly. He was enraged rather by the fact that she had so subtly maneuvered the conversation to make him open up which he so desperately tried not to do.

"Damn it! Fine! I have a family, six other siblings if you're dying for specifics." Five said, the defeat evident in his voice.

"Wow, that's a whole village. And you all have powers too?" Octavia asked, attempting to put some of the pieces of information together herself.

"The majority of us do, I guess you could say it runs in the family." He answered.

"What are they?" Octavia knew her chances at prying any more information out of the boy was slim but she still wished to try.

"That's all you're getting." Five had pulled the plug in this conversation.

"Five, please!" Octavia insisted and Five noticed how she shuffled her body to face him. In doing so, she had effectively moved a few inches closer to Five, something which he was now incredibly aware of.

"No." Eventually, after half an hour of annoying Five she finally gave up.

Their empty cans of beans were long forgotten on the floor. The rigid yet fresh tension that surrounded the pair since they first met had started to melt away as they talked. It was a bizarre predicament that neither of them expected to happen when the day started. Both Octavia and Five had woken that morning believing that they were each most likely the last person on earth, only now to find themselves amongst each other's company.

Octavia was still bewildered by the fact that she had met this boy only a few hours prior and here she was in her own base, sharing a meal with him and letting him sit on her bed and talk to her.

Of course she didn't want to believe the terrifying prospect that she really was alone, but the possibility of someone else being out there felt inconceivable.

The pair talked about a myriad of things, mostly apocalypse related but some not.

Five told her the story of how he was forced to eat cockroaches for a week during the winter because he was so short on food. Octavia gagged at his vivid narration of the memory but she had to admit that she had also done her fair share of disgusting acts in the name of survival. Octavia relaxed as Five spoke, resting her head against her hand as she laid across against the worn mattress. Five was still stiff and alert however, sitting upright on the mattress with his back up against the wall, but his arms were loosely crossed over his chest which Octavia had interpreted as being his attempt at relaxing.

Their conversations were still filled with some witty remarks but their topics of discussion flowed very naturally. Octavia didn't expect it to be so alleviating to talk to another person after two years of solitude, it was like a boulder-sized weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

A small girlish part of Octavia had forgotten about the current obliterated state of the world outside. For a slight fraction of a moment, she had discarded the reality of the apocalypse. She imagined what this conversation between us would have been like if the two of them didn't meet this way. Octavia couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they had met at school, maybe they two of them would be be academic rivals turned unlikely friends, and she would invite Five over to her place to work on a project, only that the pair would find themselves on Octavia's bedroom floor, talking rather intimately, much like how they are now.

However, Octavia was brought back to their unfortunate reality by Five asking what time it was. She quickly stood up and walked over to the sheet of metal that substituted a front door.

"Oh shit. I lost track of time, it's completely dark out." She cursed as she was met with the lack of light outside.

"Damn it. You're right." Five stood up and walked over to where she stood, examining the dark landscape from over her shoulder. He let out a small sigh at the sight.

Five should have known better than to lose track of time and Octavia felt incredibly guilty for forgetting the desolate wasteland outside.

"You can't just teleport back home?" She asked and although it was a valid question, Five's abilities didn't exactly work like that.

"I told you I don't teleport! Besides, my powers are more effective when jumping smaller distances." It was true, the reliability of Five's spatial jumps began to dwindle when he tried to cross farther distances.

Then there was an awkward silence between the two of them and Octavia's mind began to race as she tried to find an appropriate way to articulate her solution.

"Five." She spoke up.

"Yes?" He looked at the girl who was only a few feet in front of him. He admired the way some of her hair had become loose from their braids as they spoke, it made her look like a little kid who was ready to succumb to the comfort of sleep.

"Do you wanna maybe spend the night? I don't want you walking back to your base in the dark. I have enough bedding and I can set it up if you'd like?" She proposed her idea and Five felt his brain effectively shut off in that very moment.

Did she mean what he thought she meant?

"Uh..." Five had been rendered speechless for the first time in the whole six or so hours that Octavia has known him.

"We're not sharing a bed you weirdo! I've got a spare mattress you can take and even a blanket. " Octavia exclaimed and rubbed her temple in dismay.

"I wasn't insinuating that!" Five's face reddened for what was probably the tenth time that day.

"Get your mind out of the gutter." She replied with a small smirk as she walked past him, bumping his shoulder,"Or do you want to risk getting killed by god knows what while walking home in the dark?"

Five's stomach tightened as he felt her shoulder brush his with enough pressure to be forceful but also playful.

"Oh shut up," Five muttered, his tone unfortunately betrayed him and revealed his slight embarrassment and frustration. He grumbled for another moment before he spoke again. "Fine. I'll stay the night."

"See, you didn't have to make it weird." Octavia called out teasingly as she began to look for the spare bedding that she kept in one the milk crates. Five huffed again, and even though Octavia wasn't looking at him she could feel the agitation emanating from his body. She then dragged the secondary mattress she used to elevate her bed across the floor and to the opposite side of the room.

"There you go, now you won't get cooties." She said jokingly as she looked back at Five. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his face was softly illuminated by the oil lamp she kept on the nearby milk crate.

Octavia felt her snarky remark fall back into her throat as she admired his sharp yet ethereal features for the millionth time that day. She just had to remind herself that this was probably just a combination of her isolation and the start of her pubescent hormones. He was just a boy. A boy who was sleeping in her home, only a few meters away. But he was also the only boy Octavia had seen in two entire years.

"Thanks." He said softly, "For this and dinner." Five gestured to the cans that were abandoned on the floor.

"No worries," She said and began to unlace her shoes in preparation for bed, "Goodnight Five. Thanks for not murdering me." She smiled and Five did as well.

"Anytime Octavia... 'night..." Five began to strip his shoes and jacket off and tried to make himself comfortable in the makeshift bed Octavia had provided for him.

It took Octavia a little longer than usual to fall asleep that night.

She was suddenly hyper aware of the boy's presence who was sleeping only a few feet away from herself. Perhaps it was just the fact that she wasn't used to coexisting with another living, breathing person in two whole years. Or maybe she had truly become accustomed to the silence after all her time in solitude.

She found that her ears were extra sensitive to the sound of his tossing and turning against the bedding, he was obviously struggling to sleep as well.

Octavia woke that morning to the sound of Five's feet pattering against the concrete floor of her base, as if he was pacing around softly.

"Good morning, sunshine." Octavia said sarcastically as she sat up. She reached her arms up in an attempt to stretch out yesterday's stiffness from her back.

"Morning," He responded, his voice slightly softer than normal, his voice still laced with the residue of sleep.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked as she got out of bed. She noticed Five was already dressed in his jacket and his boots were fully laced. Octavia began to question if he was just extremely eager to get out of there and away from herself.

"Fine, until you started snoring." Five teased. Octavia didn't actually snore at all that night, the sound of her breathing made it hard for Five to drift to sleep but he simply wanted to provoke her.

"I do not snore!" She exclaimed, sounded very offended and Five mentally celebrated his little victory.

"Oh really? And who has told you otherwise?" Five enjoyed how riled up Octavia was getting over this, it was extremely amusing to him.

"Who's to say that you don't snore?" Octavia began to gather some clothing that was folded in a nearby crate.

"Well, did I?" Five asked as he watched her turn her back to him.

"Take a guess." She called out and Five rolled his eyes at the aloofness of her words, "Now can you do me a favour and step out while I change. Or are you going to get weird about that too?" Five groaned at her successful shift in their banter.

"How are you so good at pissing me off?" Five asked, more so to himself than to her directly.

"You're very easy to piss off." She answered him anyway, "Besides, I grew up as the youngest of my cousins, my word is my best weapon." Five could somewhat relate to her explanation even though he would never verbally agree with her.

"Very amusing." He said dryly and stepped out to give Octavia some privacy to change into whatever spare pair of clothes she had the fortune of having.

When Octavia gave him the all clear to come back into the concrete shack, Five was surprised to see her packing a backpack.

"Are you gonna help me scavenge for breakfast or are you just gonna huff and puff in here all day?" She asked as she shoved a water bottle into the bag.

"Alright, fine. Let's get breakfast," He said firmly, his tone slightly reluctant as he tried to brush off her previous teasing.

— -- —

The pair had returned to Octavia's after a successful food run and Five immediately got to work taking out the cans of food and setting them on the dusty floor. He eyed each of them silently before he began to mutter about how much protein was approximately in each can and how the two of them could stretch them out to last them as long as possible.

"Rationing there, are we?" Octavia questioned as she removed her backpack, leaving it by the door.

"We have to, smartass," He said matter-of-factly, "Rationing is how we get the most out of the food we have, to make it last longer. Christ, how have you survived this long?" Octavia grimaced unpleasantly at the comment, feeling as if it was completely unnecessary.

"I know that, Five. I'm just pointing out the fact that I did only ask you to stay the night yesterday and now you're speaking as if you intend to stay for longer than I anticipated." She crossed her arms and looked down to where Five was situated on the floor.

Five's heart dropped at the gravity of her words. He couldn't believe that he had taken it upon himself and assumed that this wasn't just a temporary thing. It wasn't everyday that you meet a fellow survivor in the apocalypse, Five only thought it was a smart decision to stay together.

"That's not what I meant-" Five shot up quickly and started to defend himself.

"Hey, it's fine. I was gonna bring it up earlier anyway but you were in such a foul mood before breakfast." Five quickly forgot about his previous embarrassment and quickly became defensive at Octavia's accusation.

"I was not in a foul mood." He stated.

"Yeah and the sky is purple." Octavia taunted, crossing her arms.

"Oh shut up." He grumbled.

"What I was trying to say is that... what if we don't part ways, what if you don't go back to your base and I don't stay at mine. I mean strength in numbers right? We've gone these past two years alone and thinking that we were the only people left on the planet... it feels counterproductive to split up, no?" Octavia tried to formulate her words in a cohesive manner and Five was stunned that she too had the same idea as him.

Five didn't respond. He was consumed by his own thoughts which for the first time in his life, felt illogical.

"I mean if I really do annoy you so much that you would prefer to choose a life of isolation then be my guest. But I want you to know that I'm thinking about survival for both of us." Octavia insisted.

"No, no, it's not that-" He started but was quickly cut off.

"Then what is it?" Octavia asked. She didn't know whether to feel offended at the boy's hesitancy or dismiss it as his lone wolf ideology he had adopted after two years of solitude.

Five couldn't exactly label this unwelcome feeling that gnawed at his bones, and his lack of knowing only contributed to his irritation. His answer was so obviously yes, he didn't want to leave her, not when he had spent this long being alone. And yet he couldn't find the right words to say.

"If you don't want to, that's fine, after all its double the worry, double the supplies and double the effort, but I thought for both of our sakes and sanity, survival in numbers is always safer, you know like you see in those apocalypse movies." Octavia continued, substituting Five's silence with her rambling.

"That is a horrible and inaccurate comparison to make." He rubbed his temple at her passing mention of those cheesy apocalypse movies which were over sensationalised and not at all a reliable source of information.

"You know what I mean." She shrugged, obviously defeated.

"Fine, let's stay together." Five agreed, although he didn't actually need much convincing unlike what Octavia thought.

It's not that Five didn't want to stay with her, he was taken aback by how badly he did want to stay with her. But Five couldn't ignore what he had been working so tirelessly at ever since the apocalypse started, finding a way to get back to his family.

Five was scared that involving Octavia in this hypothetical equation would only further complicate things. However, the benefits of her company seemed to outweigh the minor hiccup which was that Five technically belonged to the past.

"Really?" Octavia was almost startled at how quickly the boy had agreed to her proposition.

"But we're not staying here." Five added as he looked at the small structure of the building Octavia had called home.

"Thanks." She said bluntly, offended at his choice of words.

"No offence. My place is a lot more developed, there's more space and resources. I think we'll both be a lot more comfortable there." Five justified.

"If you say so." Octavia saw no reason to argue.Her place wasn't exactly the pinnacle of comfort and she could only assume how the lack of space would be inconvenient and uncomfortable.

"So I guess we're going to have to lay some ground rules." Octavia declared and Five raised a brow, curiosity forming in response to her statement.

"Ground rules, what are we? Roommates?" Five was only teasing at first however the reality of the situation had just occurred to him, they would indeed be sharing the same space and living alongside each other.

"Well, kind of. It's just like you said earlier, we only ever had to think for ourselves until now. We have to learn to coexist with another person and keep enough supplies going to last between the two of us." Five watched and smirked as she spoke with her hands.

"Right, what were you thinking?" He stepped forward and brought himself closer to Octavia.

"Well, the first thing that comes to mind is food. Obviously we need to make it last. Do you want to scavenge for our own food or scavenge together and share what we have." She counted on her index finger before looking back up at Five.

"Share." He said swiftly, not thinking twice about it.

"That's surprisingly generous of you." Octavia was caught off guard by his response.

"I don't need any potential arguments to start because of a lack of food." There was the traditional survival logic that seemed to justify all of Five's decisions.

"Fair point." Octavia clicked her tongue, agreeing with him.

"So food will be a team effort. And as far as living at yours, do you have enough bedding? Or are you expecting me to carry my mattress across the city?" The question was a genuine concern but Five chuckled softly at the image he conjured in his mind of forcing the girl to drag her mattress across the miles of debris and rubble.

"I have more than enough at mine. You'll be fine." Five confirmed and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Anything else you want to lay on the table?" Octavia asked.

"Yes actually. I'm curious about how we're going to coexist with each other." Five had been thinking an awful lot about their pleasant conversation from last night.

Although their conversation was mostly free from bickering and teasing, Five found that he could speak to Octavia in a way that he couldn't with anyone else, not even his siblings. He had strangely enjoyed talking to her for such an elongated period of time and seemingly forgot about the world outside.

"What do you mean?" Octavia wanted to know more about what Five had meant. She was worried for a moment that the boy believed her stranger danger paranoia might get the best of her when he least expected it.

"As appreciative as I am of human company during the end of the world, I still require some degree of privacy." Five thought about the old library which he now inhabited and the equations that were painted across the remaining walls.

Just because he knew he wasn't alone anymore didn't mean he was ready to give up. He needed to get back to his family.

"Come again?" She asked and Five had to think carefully about how he was going to phrase his next few words.

"To put it bluntly. I'm working on something to do with my powers. An equation of some sort." So far, so true.

"Why?" And there was the very response he had anticipated.

"I believe that not only do I have the ability to jump between tangible spaces... I can also jump through time." Now that was a blatant lie. Five knew for a fact that he could jump through time, it was the very reason he got stuck here in the first place.

Five had tried to tell himself that it wasn't a complete lie, he was simply obscuring the truth. After all, if Octavia was going to live with him she was bound to have questions about what he was doing and why. He was simply just feeding her a watered down version of the truth to keep her from asking anymore questions.

"It's a hypothesis. If I get the numbers right, I believe I could time travel back to before the apocalypse even started. Maybe change one small link in the fabric of time to prevent it from ever happening at all." This was probably the most truthful thing he had said yet.

"Are you fucking serious?" Octavia's jaw dropped slightly. She couldn't believe the words that had left his mouth.

Even though Octavia was no stranger to superhuman abilities the very concept of time travel seemed incredibly far fetched and next to impossible. Yet here this boy was, standing in front of her and insisting that it was possible. She didn't know the technicalities of how it all worked but the very prospect of being able to go back in time before any of this had happened lit a warmth within Octavia which she hadn't felt for a very long time.

"I haven't stopped trying since the moment the apocalypse started." Five said, averting his gaze from Octavia, who was very much still gawking in disbelief.

"So, what does this have to do with us? If you don't mind me asking." She fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke and looked at the boy in front of her.

"All I ask is that I require my privacy whilst I'm working on my equations." Five stated. The hard part for him was over.

"Sure, I've been alone for this long. I'm sure I'll fill in the time doing something." Octavia complied, not wishing to disrespect the boy's boundaries.

"You'll be pleased to know I've settled down in the remains of an old library. And surprisingly, plenty of books are still intact." Five remembered the piles of books which he had collected in his own dwelling and smiled when he saw Octavia's face light up instantly.

"I'm sold." She blurted.

"It doesn't mean I don't want you to talk to me. All I ask is that you understand my request, it's been a long time since either of us have had to live with anyone else." Five continued, he didn't want Octavia to think that her presence was going to be an inconvenience for him. There were just some things that were safer for her to not know.

"Well, how about this? During the day we can do our separate things but every night after dinner we have our designated 'us time'. Time when we can interact and socialise and not think about apocalypse or survival shit, like what we're going to eat tomorrow or if we're going to freeze to death. We can talk about anything or not even talk at all. We just need to keep our socialisation up without stepping on each other's toes. And also to help us from going completely insane of course." Octavia had come up with her second great proposition of the day.

Five didn't find it in himself to argue with her, he didn't want to. Her very idea sounded somewhat actually pleasant to him.

"I can work with that." Five said softly.

"Sounds like quite the beneficial agreement." Octavia concluded and he nodded his head in agreement.

all images above were sourced from pinterest!

#number five #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x oc #five hargreeves x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #tua #five hargreeves fluff #number five x reader #five x oc #tua five #romance #five x reader

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serasvictoria · 2 years

Text

Wait ‘Til The Night

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: Faced with the prospect of making his own Halloween costume for a special Hellfire get together post-graduation, Eddie turns to the one person that he knows that can offer him a helping hand.

Word Count: 6993

Content Warning: Idiots in love. Pining Eddie and his friends know it. Swearing. The Corroded Coffin boys are basically glorified OCs in this since we barely got to know them on the show.

Notes: I know, I know, late again, I can only apologize once more 😅 There is a large section in this that's italicized, because it’s set in the past. I’d also like to add that this is part one. I’m currently still working on part two and that should be done soon.

Beta read by the amazing @adrille88! Thanks again ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

“Shoulda said that you were too old for that shit. That’s what you should have said, but you just couldn’t disappoint Byers like that now, could you?”

Eddie was muttering to himself as he parked the van in front of the trailer. He was still wearing his overalls having just come home from work. His hands and forearms were covered in streaks of grease no matter how many times he had cleaned them.

He was a man on a mission now so he made his way into the trailer quickly so he could strip out of his work clothes and into something more normal, a Metallica tee and a pair of black sweatpants on this occasion. The fact that his arms were still dirty did not escape him, but he didn’t exactly feel like taking a shower now.

“Would have been easier if you’d just told Henderson ‘no’ for once in your life.” Eddie was still muttering as he exited the trailer again, lighting a cigarette as he went. “But nooooo. The second that the little fucker flashed his dimply smile you couldn’t deny him anything.”

21 years old and he had managed to let himself get roped into dressing up for Halloween.

The last time that he dressed up for Halloween, he had simply cut some holes in an old bed sheet and wore that for the rest of the evening. Wasn’t like he had been able to buy some fancy costume or anything and he didn’t exactly want to either.

Another dumb rule that Dustin had come up with was that the costume had to be handmade. When Eddie had objected to that, and he had been quite prepared to make a pretty good case as to why that was an incredibly bad idea, Dustin had instead given him a speech about how it was in the spirit of Halloween, like there was some kind of unwritten rule that meant that you couldn’t simply buy a pirate costume and be done with it.

No. Not allowed apparently. Not in the world of Dustin Henderson.

When Eddie had wanted to raise yet another objection to that, Dustin had told him that Halloween was Will Byers’ favorite holiday. Looked forward to it all year apparently, and surely he did not want to disappoint Will Byers.

Leave it to Dustin to go straight for Eddie’s weak spot.

Everyone knew that he’d take a bullet for that kid. Without hesitation. And naturally Dustin abused that weakness.

So Eddie had begrudgingly agreed. Sure, he’d make a costume and he already had an idea about what kind of costume, something very low effort and easy to make, something that even someone like him could achieve, but then Dustin had burst his bubble and told him that he couldn’t show up in his regular clothes and with some facepaint.

It was like Dustin saw straight through him and knew exactly what he was thinking at times. Eddie hated it when he did that.

That was how he found himself on his way to your trailer, the only person that could help him out of his predicament. He could only hope that you would be willing to offer him some assistance in his time of need and he had already crossed his index and middle finger just in case.

When he’s in front of the trailer that you call home, he takes one final drag of his cigarette, throws it on the ground and grinds it out with his boot.

The bike that’s propped up against the trailer always reminds him of the first time that you had talked to each other. Or had even spent any time in each other’s company for that matter.

Eddie was driving back home from school and when he was halfway there, he saw you pushing your bike. Knowing that you were essentially what Eddie referred to as a ‘neighbor’, he rolled down the window and asked you if you needed a lift. You’d told him that you were fine, but he had insisted until you had accepted his offer.

He loaded your bike into the back of his van and when he asked you what had happened to it, you immediately started crying, something that you profusely apologized for.

Without thinking, he offered you his bandana to wipe your tears away and he chuckled to himself when you blew your nose in it. He then listened to you sobbing through a story about how you didn’t have enough money to get your bike fixed and that you’d been trying to mend the tires with some old bike repair kit, but that the tires were practically threadbare and unmendable by now.

“I can fix it for you,” he said. “If you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” you replied. “I’ll think of something.”

“It’s no trouble at all, honest,” he decided to press on instead since it was quite obvious that you were in dire straits. “I do odd jobs at the garage from time to time so I’m sure that they’d let me fix your bike if I asked.”

“Are you sure that won’t be a problem?”

“Pretty sure,” he smiled.

“Then I accept your offer.”

When you cracked a grateful smile at him, he could feel the first hint of butterflies in his stomach, which he hated and steadfastly ignored because he barely even knew you at that point.

Can’t fall for a stranger. That’s just not done at all.

The only problem there was that as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he realized he was already in too deep.

Through his uncle, Eddie found out more about your family situation, something that he had never shown any interest in before. People had varying reasons as to why they had ended up in the trailer park and most people weren’t exactly forthcoming as to why that was.

When Eddie was younger, he was convinced that the guy that lived two trailers up had once killed a man. He just had that look about him and the story grew over time, eventually evolving to him being involved in a shootout and having killed at least ten people.

Eddie was endlessly disappointed when he had found out that he’d been declared bankrupt and that the bank had repossessed the man’s house instead.

He didn’t have any fancy made up stories in his head about you though, but he had assumed that it was bad. It usually was.

You and your father had moved into the trailer park about two years ago after your father had lost his job. That was around the same time that your mother had left, something about her falling in love with a coworker and eloping with the guy, and while your father had tried, he only barely managed to keep his head above water.

Wayne had told him that the trailer had been all that your father had been able to afford, made a really good deal on it too apparently, and you had called the place home ever since.

Eddie had never really talked to you before that moment, your interactions were limited only to a nod of recognition when you saw each other in the school hallways since you lived in the same area, because you moved in very different social circles.

You weren’t exactly classed as popular, but you weren’t a total outcast like he was either. In the grand scheme of high school popularity, you were a couple of steps above him on the social ladder. He often saw you with some of the kids in the marching band, in particular with that little redhead that looked like Molly Ringwald, the one that played clarinet.

As soon as you had started talking to each other, a tentative friendship started to blossom, limited to small talk at first, but before he knew it, he was driving you to school every morning and you started tutoring him for English class, because lord knows he needed all the help he could get.

The more he got to know you, the more he realized that he was falling hard.

By the time that he had eventually graduated (something that he claimed to owe to you), he was in so deep that he was convinced that he’d never find a way out.

Since graduating, he had gotten a full time job as a mechanic at the garage and you were in community college one town over. You still hung out regularly, usually sharing a joint during the weekends while watching tv (ALF was a recent favorite).

“Oh shit.” Eddie had been so caught up in his thoughts that he had entirely forgotten to knock on the door and when he finally did, it was too loud. “Sorry!” he called out when he heard something fall on the other side of the door followed by muffled swearing. “Got a bit too excited.”

When the door opened, he was face to face with your chest since he had stepped back to stand on the bottom step in front of the trailer, and he quickly looked away with embarrassment in case you thought that he was a perv. He recollected himself and said, “Hey, shorty.”

“Hey, Ed.” You flashed him a dazzling smile that momentarily took his breath away and stepped to the side straight away to let him in. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He stepped into the trailer that was slightly bigger than the one that he and his uncle had, but not by much. He closed the door behind him and upon seeing no one but yourself inside, he asked, “Is your dad not in?“

“No,” you replied as you headed into the small kitchen area to grab him a drink without asking if he wanted anything. “He’s working some odd job somewhere. I don’t know all the details.”

That probably meant that it wasn’t strictly legal. It reminded Eddie of what he had gone through with his own parents, specifically his father, but he had been too young back then and didn’t know any different.

You were most definitely old enough to know that whatever your dad was doing probably wasn’t right, but it wasn’t like you could say anything about it either. Money was tight after all.

It was one of the reasons why you were working part time at the thrift store. As soon as you were out of college, you went there for a couple of hours to help out and you worked there for the entire day on Saturdays. Sunday was the only day in the week where you had time off.

“You weren’t studying or anything?” he asks as you handed him a glass of orange juice. Not that he could see any text books around, but it was something that he always asked.

“Nah, I wasn’t. I was reading.” Eddie’s eyes fall on a battered paperback on the couch. You had read it so much that it was starting to fall apart. “What brings you here? You just wanted to hang out after work?”

“I was wondering if you could help me out.”

“With?” Your interest is piqued pretty much instantly. Eddie hardly ever came to you for anything anymore, always doing everything on his own, so the fact that he came to you to ask for help now was huge.

“Some of the kids that are in Hellfire now had an idea for a Halloween party. They want to do a special campaign that evening and we have to dress up.” Before you can say anything, Eddie holds his hands up and continues. “Now I know, it’s silly as hell, but they’re really excited about it so…” He shrugs as he trails off.

“Hard to say no?“

“Pretty much. Felt like I’d be breaking their hearts if I had refused. The only problem is that Dustin said that the costumes had to be handmade so I’m kinda screwed there.” He winced a little, remembering how many times he had stuck the needle in his fingers when he was customizing his battle vest. “They probably have their moms to help them out with it.”

You smiled a little, but there was also a tinge of sadness mixed in there which was down to the fact that in the absence of Eddie’s mother, you had apparently turned into a substitute. He would have been horrified if he knew that your mind had drifted in that direction.

Realizing that you hadn’t said anything, you suddenly ask, “So you wanted me to help?”

“If you can?“

“Yeah sure, no problem. I’d love to help.”

“Excellent.” He fist pumps the air when you agree. “I owe you big time. Any time I can do something for you, just ask.”

“I haven’t even made you anything yet!” you say with a laugh. “You got any ideas for a costume?”

“Not really. Devil maybe? You know, because of all the devil worship crap when we were in school?“

“Too easy,” you say with a wave of your hand. “We could come up with something really cool if we tried. So don’t suggest something like a vampire or a pirate either.”

“Ghost?” When you narrow your eyes, he laughs loudly. “Nah, nah, I’m thinking, but I’m drawing a blank. Now that you mentioned vampires, that’s the only thing that’s on my mind.”

“What are you?” Eddie blinks at your question, not entirely sure what you’re asking him. “You’re um… What was it? Character class?” you continue.

It makes him grin. He had told you some things about D&D, because you had asked him about it and Eddie had gone off on a tangent about what it was like, what he was and how they played the game when he was still in Hellfire.

It had been so obvious to him afterwards that you had no clue what he had been talking about, but it was nice to see that some information had stuck in your head.

“Very good,” he says, genuinely impressed, and you shyly shuffle your feet. “You still sure you don’t want to sit in on a session?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to reading about fantasy and not playing it. I wouldn’t want to make an ass of myself. Or embarrass you.”

“Honey, you could never embarrass me.”

Barely anything could embarrass Eddie. That was how he meant it, but the way that your eyes widened and how you cleared your throat, especially the way that your eyes flickered down to his lips for just one second… he hadn’t imagined that.

You had taken it entirely differently and you didn’t look at all disgusted or weirded out, but oddly… interested?

No, he was definitely imagining that. No way that a girl like you thought about him in the same way that he thought about you. There was just no way.

“Character class?” You repeat yourself, your voice a little bit too loud, and it makes you rub your cheeks from out of nowhere to calm yourself down. You roll your shoulders, cough, and try again. “Character-?”

“Class,” he finishes for you, amused. “You gonna repeat that the entire time? I mean, it’s cute and all, I’ll give you that, but you don’t have to impress me with all your D&D knowledge,” he teases. “I’m already impressed that some of it even stuck.”

“You’re making fun of me,” you pout. “Maybe I won’t help you after all.”

“No, no, no, no, no.”

When you turn away, he grabs your arm and both of you stare at the spot where he touches you, right underneath the sleeve of your shirt, his palm touching bare skin. He is immediately aware of the fact that the skin of your arm bumps and he once again tries not to read too much into it.

Eddie pulls away as if burned and you take a step back to put some more distance between you. You turn your back on him and he can see you clutching at your chest first with your other hand before it brushes over the spot where he touched you before, fingertips lingering there for a short moment.

“You already know what I’m going to ask,” you finally say with a nervous laugh.

“Bard,” he replies as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’m a half-elf bard.”

“Which half?”

“The top half,” he chuckles. “So I’ve got the pointy ears and the great hair, but the bottom half is human.”

“So equal parts impressive and not.”

“Something like that,” he grins. “Kinda like me.”

“Oh, fuck off. You are impressive.” You look away from him after saying that, staring at your hands instead. Fuck, what is this? You’re barely even doing anything and his heart is hammering away inside his chest like he just ran a marathon. “So, half-elf bard? Can you draw me something? That way I can try to replicate it.”

“I can do that. You’re a fucking godsend, you know that, right?”

“So you keep telling me,” you grin. “Any more of your sweet talk and it’ll go to my head.”

“It should.”

But what he really thought was that you hadn’t heard anything yet if you considered that sweet talk, because Eddie could be a lot sweeter than that.

He tries to push those thoughts out of his head however. Those are more the kinds of things he likes to think about late at night when he’s in his bed and they shouldn’t be voiced out loud right now.

If ever.

“You’re being silly,” you mumble under your breath.

“The silliest,” he laughs. “The most silly guy that there is.”

From the moment that the words were out of his mouth you knew that you’d inadvertently gotten yourself dragged into another one of Eddie’s childish games. It was all in the playful smile that was tugging on his lips. He looked way too impressed with himself that he had caught you unaware because you usually refused to play ball. Not since you’d gotten caught in a never ending game of tic-tac-toe, simply because you had managed to beat him twice, and he wouldn’t stop going on about how you had broken his winning streak.

“Are you just going to make everything I say bigger simply to annoy me?”

“Try me.”

“Don’t think I will,” you frown, determined not to let him drag you into this, but also wanting to indulge him in some odd way. “I’m not playing your dumb game.”

“Dumbest.”

“You’re so weird,” you sigh and roll your eyes.

“The weirdest.”

“Why are you playing this kid’s game?” There’s no annoyance in your voice, only amusement that Eddie is this entertained by something as childish as this. “You’re nothing but a big kid really.”

“The biggest.“

Shaking your head, you disappear into your bedroom to grab a notebook and a pencil, filled with the need to occupy Eddie through other means. When you hand both to him, a look of surprise crosses his features.

“Draw me a picture of this amazingly, beautiful costume that you want me to make for you.”

The game is the last thing on your mind when you say that and you see Eddie pause momentarily, a few lines forming on his forehead that are visible through a gap in his bangs and chewing on his bottom lip as he seems to overthink something.

You’re still not thinking about it when his brow suddenly smooths out, his lips part and his brown eyes turn unbelievably soft as he looks straight into your eyes and without a shadow of a doubt says, “The most beautiful.”

Your cheeks feel like they’ve been set on fire now that you’re at the other end of his intense gaze and the corners of his mouth quirk up for a second or two before he turns to an empty page in the notebook and starts drawing. The tip of his tongue peeks out of his mouth as he concentrates on what he’s creating for you.

It takes you a couple more seconds before you find the strength to move away from him and you sit back down on the small couch in the corner, picking up your book from the table next to it, and you attempt to read like you were doing before Eddie came round.

Eddie had a tendency to flirt with everything that moved. It didn’t mean anything. That was what you told yourself anyway. He’d said stuff like that to you before, like that one time when you were wearing some old 70s shirt from the thrift store with a tennis player on it (you didn’t even play tennis), and Eddie had gone out of his way to tell you how amazing you looked.

When you had started stammering, since you had been completely taken aback by his compliment, he had started laughing and said that you should have seen your face.

So whenever he paid you a compliment now, or said something outlandish, you ignored it. Even if it did make your heart skip a beat every single time, you couldn’t let him know about it.

He’d only make fun of you again.

By the time that he finishes, which doesn’t take him long, you’re still trying to calm your racing heart. When he walks up to where you’re sitting, he closely resembles an overexcited puppy who wants to show his owner this amazing stick that it has just found.

“Here.” Eddie puts the notebook on top of your book and plops down next to you, the old springs in the couch creaking under the added weight. You’re immediately aware of how your thighs are touching, but you’re not sure if he notices so you don’t pull away. “Something like that.”

Your eyes scan the page. It looked fairly basic, but with enough detail for you to work with. You focus on one item of clothing that he’s drawn specifically.

“A cape?” The tip of your finger follows the penciled outline of it, billowing as a gust of wind was making it move.

“Hell yeah, a cape. I need a cape.”

“You’d look cool with a cape.”

“You think so?”

Picking the notebook up, you hold it next to his face as you try to imagine what he’d look like with a costume like that. “Yeah,” you say confidently. “You’ll look cool.”

“Awesome.” He looks away from you then, mainly because he’s overwhelmed by the sudden desire to kiss you. “You can work with that?”

“Sure thing. Can you write your clothing sizes on there, please?” You hand him back the notebook and the pencil. “I’m working all day tomorrow so I can see if I can find stuff in similar sizes. That way I can alter it and have it ready in time for you for Halloween.”

“Cool.” Eddie writes down the sizes of his shirt and jeans and offhandedly asks, “Are you going to make a costume for yourself as well?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He hands you back the notebook and you look at the drawing again with a smile. “Why?”

“No reason,” he answers. “Just thought that it was a shame, that’s all.”

“I’ll be way too busy making your costume anyway.” It looked like Eddie had tried to draw something that was supposed to resemble embroidery on the tunic and that would take a bit of work.

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie knows that you’re pretty fast at customizing stuff though, he’s seen the outfits that you’d made for yourself in little to no time at all after all, so an idea starts to form in the back of his head.

One that scares the everloving crap out of him.

The band still meets up twice a week, once to practice and once to play at The Hideout. Even though they were all busy, they don’t want to lose their spot there, especially not now that more people are coming to their shows. A grand total of fifteen people showed up two weeks ago, a record.

Practice isn’t going well since Jeff had a particularly long day at work. He works at his dad’s sportswear store and his dad thought that starting at the bottom built character, but Jeff found it hard to agree after he had dealt with a particularly difficult customer who seemed dead set on getting a discount by finding minute problems with the sneakers that they wanted to purchase.

“Can we stop please?” Jeff asks eventually. “My head’s just not in it today.”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees. He agrees so quickly that Gareth raises his eyebrows in surprise, because Eddie was always the one that went on and on about how important it was to practice and improve. “Coke?”

“What’s up?” Gareth asks when Eddie grabs a can of coke from the small fridge. “You seem antsy.”

When Eddie turns back around, he’s surprised to see that the guys are staring at him. “Me?” he asks in surprise. “I’m fine.”

“Nah, man, something’s up,” Jeff agrees. “You look nervous, like you’re building up to something.”

“Am not,” Eddie snorts, but when he nervously runs his free hand through his hair, the guys share a knowing look with each other. “What? Nothing’s going on.”

“Yeah right,” Arlo chips in. Arlo was actually his second name. His full name was Garfunkel Arlo Byrd, but he had vowed to kill anyone that used it after Gareth had nearly died from laughing too much when he had innocently told him his name when they were kids. “What is it? Maybe we can help.”

“Not with this,” Eddie sighs.

“You won’t know until you’re told us,” Arlo tries again. “Come on, man.”

“Dude, you can’t help me out with girl problems.”

There. It was finally out in the open. They knew now.

“Girl problems? What kind of problems?” Jeff queried. He was the only one in the band that had a girlfriend, a cute girl who worked on the shop floor alongside him.

“Okay, so, I kinda want to ask this girl out-“

A small chorus of “oooooh”s cuts him off completely and Gareth says your name within seconds of this revelation.

“What the fuck!” Eddie suddenly exclaims. “You guys knew?!”

“What? She’s making your Halloween costume, right?” Arlo shrugs. “Besides, you’ve had a crush on her for ages.”

“I don’t have a crush on her!” Eddie automatically vehemently denies it. Even if it was true, he had never admitted it out loud before and the thought to do that now, even if his friends would never once judge him for it, somewhat terrified him.

“Dude, you were always staring at her whenever we were in the cafeteria,” Gareth reveals. “It was super fucking obvious, man.”

“What the fuck? Did everybody know about this?” All three of the guys start nodding. “Jesus Christ. I’m screwed.”

“Relax, man, I’m pretty sure that she has no idea,” Gareth continues on helpfully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Eh. Eh, well, you see-“

“Gareth.” Eddie crosses over to where the drummer is still sitting on his stool, looking incredibly nervous now that the frontman of the band is looming over him. “What do you mean?”

“It was Jeff’s idea!” he suddenly blurts out and Jeff groans in the background. “See, we knew that you had the hots for her, so we decided to play Cupid a little, you know, because you were pining so hard for her.”

“The fuck! I was not pining!”

“Yeah, you were,” Arlo interjects. “You were seconds away from swooning like one of those heroines in those god awful books they made us read for English.”

“Austen,” Jeff adds in.

“That’s the one.”

“Whatever!” Eddie didn’t care about the books, screw the fucking books, he wanted to know what his friends had done. “What did you guys do?!”

“I was in the thrift store a couple of months ago, to see if they had cheap shirts, for when I had to go to my cousin’s wedding, you know, and I kinda ran into her. She recognized me so we got talking, this was before graduation by the way-”

“Quit stalling and just tell me what happened.” Eddie’s hand tightens into a fist. It wasn’t that he was actually going to punch Gareth, but maybe if he made it look like he was going to, that would make Gareth finish his story quicker.

“Oh, fuck.” It seemed to have worked. “Well, I’d heard that there was going to be a party at Vickie Mills’ place and since they’re friends, I asked her if she was going to go. She said yes so I wanted to know if she had a date, which she didn’t, and I might have implied very heavily that you had wanted to go.”

Oh. Oh.

Eddie steps back, his mind going back a couple of months to what he had thought was an incredibly weird conversation at the time.

One day, about a week before graduation, you had mentioned that party and had asked him if he wanted an invite. Eddie had been confused as hell, because his only plans consisted of getting high as fuck afterwards, and he had incorrectly assumed that you had known about it. He was pretty sure that he had mentioned it.

You continued on, undeterred, and said that Vickie wouldn’t mind if he came as well, assuring him that Vickie knew that Eddie was your friend and that she wasn’t like those dicks from the basketball team.

Eddie had simply commented how nice it was that Vickie wasn’t narrow minded and said that he’d think about it.

He hadn’t given it any more thought afterwards. Not until now.

“And you guys didn’t think that it might be wise to tell me about this?!”

“To be honest, we thought that you’d jump at the chance to spend the evening with her,” Jeff explains. “But wait, did she ask you or not?”

“She did, but I-“

“You fucking idiot,” Arlo groans loudly. “You had your shot and you missed it.”

“Oh god,” Eddie bemoans, convinced that he fucked up now. “What am I supposed to do now?“

“Hey, hey.” Jeff was standing behind him suddenly and started rubbing his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but Eddie didn’t pull away either. “So, like, did she ask you out or did she ask you something else? What did she say?”

“She just asked me if I wanted an invite.” Eddie whacks himself on his forehead. “Fuck!”

“No, seriously, calm down.” Jeff tries again, patting Eddie’s back now, but that really wasn’t doing anything at all to calm his nerves so he did pull away this time. “If that’s what she asked, then she didn’t ask you out, okay? She didn’t say ‘let’s go together’, right?”

That did have the desired effect, because it made Eddie think really hard on how you had worded it exactly, and no, you had not explicitly asked him out. That wasn’t what had happened at all. You had merely told him that he would be welcome to attend if he wanted to, but that was it.

“No,” Eddie says, calm once more. “No. She didn’t. It was more along the lines of ‘Vickie wouldn’t mind if you showed up’, but that’s all it was, really.”

“Crisis averted,” Arlo chuckles and Gareth breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t completely screwed up Eddie’s chances at potentially scoring a date. “So now what?”

“Eh-“ Eddie scratches his scalp absentmindedly, “I dunno, that was kinda my problem really.”

“Just ask her.”

“As if it’s that easy!” Eddie smacks Gareth on the back of his head. “Besides, what do you even know about asking a girl out, Gareth. You were practically dry heaving the one time that you tried to do it.”

“Hey! That’s so not-“

“Yeah, it is,” Arlo interjects. “You were so nervous that you had a stomach ache for about a week afterwards.” Since the two of them had known each other since they were both still in diapers, Arlo would know. “It was funny though, I’ll hand you that.”

“Well, nice to know that my misery was a source of amusement for you, prick.”

“For god’s sake,” Jeff groans and starts rubbing his forehead. “Look, we’re not talking about Gareth’s sad excuse of a love life-“

“Hey!”

“-shut up,” Jeff hisses, “we’re talking about Eddie now.”

“Just ask her,” Arlo says the exact same thing as Gareth had just said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Gee, genius, what do you think?” Eddie asks, frustration really starting to seep into his voice now, because he really didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “She could say no.”

“But then you’d have your answer! At least you’d know. Right?” Gareth nods along furiously, seeing no other option than that one at the moment. “What else can you do?” Arlo continues. “Write her a letter? Or a song or something? Just ask her. That’s a lot easier.”

“Hate to say this,” Jeff says, “but I kinda agree. You guys are friends and you hang out all the time. It’s not like you’re taking her out to dinner or anything.”

“You can do that after you’ve slipped her the tongue,” Arlo laughs. “Ask her out then.”

“Arlo, you’re such a dick.” Gareth throws a drumstick at him which hits Arlo on the back.

“You guys love me though,” Arlo counters immediately. “And if you don’t, me and my bass will be outta here.”

“Not helping, guys,” Eddie says, nervous once more, simply over the thought of taking you out on an actual date. “I can’t just say ‘so hey, wanna hang out at someone else’s house on Halloween’? How is that not asking her out?“

“Like I said, you guys hang out all the time so it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jeff shrugs in reply. “Not yet anyway.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Eddie desperately wanted it to mean something though, that was the problem. “I’m over at her place tomorrow evening for a fitting so I’ll try asking her then.”

“Great!” Jeff claps his hands together in excitement. “Try not to make a big deal out of it. You’ll only make yourself nervous.”

“You speaking out of experience there?”

“A little,” Jeff replies bashfully. “I know that you’ll do loads better than me though.”

“Maybe,” Eddie grins, drains the can of coke of its contents in one large gulp and crushes it in his hand. “I’ll find out tomorrow.”

Eddie stands in the middle of what was your living room, turning around so you can examine his costume from every angle. You nod your head and look very satisfied with what you have made for him so far.

“Looking good,” you grin. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” Eddie can already feel a blush rising on his cheeks. “Can’t believe you’re almost done.”

You had gotten incredibly lucky with some finds at work. Some woman had dropped off an old dark green boho shirt with embroidered puffed sleeves that you had cut off and sewn onto a tunic in a similar color.

“Just need to finish the cape and then you’re ready to go.” You remove the cape from his shoulders and sit down on the couch with it. You’re looking through your box with sewing threads until you find the one that you need.

“H-hey,” he scratches his neck, unsure how to proceed, because he has never asked a girl this, he never even thought that he’d ever get a chance to. “After the session, we were gonna go see if there are any parties that we could go to, but we’ll probably just end up hanging out at Jeff’s place and get completely wasted.”

Oh god. He was really selling this to you, wasn’t he? He’d be lucky if you didn’t end up laughing in his face. Surely you had better options than this.

“And I um- I mean, you probably have better things to do, but you know, maybe…”

Eddie trails off and leaves his horrible excuse of an invitation hanging in the air between you. When you don’t reply, he immediately assumes the worst, and waits for you to find the words to reject him with, to tell him that you ‘just want to be friends’ or that you ‘weren’t interested in him like-‘

“Sure. I’d love to.”

“R-really?” You nod at him with a little smile on your lips that’s immediately making his brain conjure up all kinds of filth that he hates himself for. And over a damn smile, too. Pathetic. “You’re not yanking my chain here, are you?”

“No! I’d never do that,” you laugh. “I’m serious. I’d love to hang out with you.”

The fact that you told him that you would love to spend the evening in the company of him and his dumbass friends just once was already major, but the fact that you told him twice? He hadn’t anticipated that.

“Great. Excellent.” All the times that you had spent time with him before didn’t seem to matter, because this was an evening with his friends and that changed the dynamics a bit. “Who knows, maybe you’ll like D&D so much that you’ll join our little ragtag band.”

“Maybe.” Having threaded your needle, you start hemming in the edges by hand stitching it. “Are your friends okay with me coming?”

“Course they are.” He sits down next to you and watches you closely, admiring your handiwork. “Any friend of mine is a friend of theirs. Besides, you kinda know Gareth from what I’ve heard.”

“Do I? I talked to him twice before, that’s not exactly knowing someone.”

“He seems to think so,” Eddie replies.

“Huh.” You look up at him briefly and smile. “Guess I made a friend without knowing it then.”

Eddie smiles back. Your pleased look ignites something inside his chest. That’s been happening a lot more lately.

“He was acting a bit weird the last time that we talked, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s immediately curious, because he thinks that he knows what you’re talking about. “How weird?”

“Asked me questions about Vickie’s graduation party.” You continue to sew as you talk, your stitches nice and even. “Don’t know why he acted so nervous about it to be honest. He was very jumpy, like I was going to chew his head off or something.”

“Ah.” Eddie can see it in his mind. “Did he want to come or something?”

“If he did, he never asked.” You put the cape to one side and start fidgeting with your hands instead. “He kept bringing you up, saying how no one ever invited you to parties and stuff and what a shame that was.”

“Oh yeah?” He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw clenching up. Gareth had forgotten to mention that. “I get invites,” he said without thinking, determined not to look like a total loser now. “But they usually ask me to attend in my capacity as a dealer.”

“I know. Used to see you around a couple of times.”

Okay, he definitely didn’t remember that. Not that it was a secret that he sold drugs, but he would have wanted to make a better first impression in a way.

“It’s okay though,” you say quickly. “That’s how you make money and it’s not like we knew each other back then or anything.”

“That’s not really-“ He chuckles, amused that you even feel the need to make up an excuse for him. “So what else did he say?”

“Like I said, he doubled down pretty hard on how much you’d like to get an invite so I eventually told him that I’d see what I could do.” You start picking at your fingernails nervously. “However, weirdest thing was when I told you that you could come that you weren’t interested at all, so I don’t get why Gareth made such a big deal out of it.”

“I’d already made plans.” Eddie kinda wishes that you didn’t remember that he’d spent his entire night alone, smoking weed and watching some cheesy horror movie that he had rented from Family Video. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Party sucked anyway so you should be glad that you had missed it.”

You had mentioned that some of the guys from the basketball team had crashed the party and that Robin, who had been invited by Vickie, had cussed them out for it. That part sounded pretty epic actually and he wished that he had seen that. Robin was always hesitant to answer his questions about the incident whenever he asked her about it and had only been willing to divulge that Jason Carver was a massive dick.

“You’re not just accepting my invite just to stand me up, right?” You take a swipe at his arm over his suggestion. “I was joking! I know that you’d never do that.”

“Damn straight I wouldn’t.” You poke your index finger into his bicep and happen to discover a stray piece of thread at the top of the sleeve. You cut it off with some scissors. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to dress up though,” you say as you drop it onto the floor. “That won’t be a problem?”

“No, of course not. We’ll be happy to have you, costume or not.”

“Okay good. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find something at work that I can use, you never know.” You hand him the cape back and excitedly say, “Try it now.”

Doing as you ask, he puts the cape back on and tries to strike a pose that’s supposed to look like he’s holding his acoustic guitar, which will be one of his props. You assure him once more that it looks perfect and while he’s glad that he does, he’s still wondering about what kind of costume you’d wear.

Eddie goes to bed dreaming of it that night actually and he hopes to god that you have enough time to make something for yourself.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #mar writes

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icey--stars · 2 years

Text

Stories To Be Told: PART 29

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

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a/n: warning for like… extremely fluffy things. is that a warning? idk. but like… the author, me, squealed while writing this part. this was combined with the epilogue i planned since it was too short. so that huge time skip? yeah.

BUT, since this is the last chapter… I want to thank everyone who came around while writing this series. Thank you all for your support, whether you were commenting, reblogging or just liking- it means a ton. This story wasn’t originally going to be posted online. It was a rewrite based off of a 115k word fic I wrote. well… not really. That one had extreme inconsistencies, and very limited character development. It was set post-acomaf, where all canon plot ended basically. I much prefer this post-acosf version.

I'm always very nervous posting online, so getting all the support I got for stbt? It means the world to me. I can’t express how much all the support just made my day. Thank you readers, from the bottom of my heart.

After this, I’ll try to work on either a new series, or some oneshots, but I beg of you, please send requests. I am incapable of coming up with ideas to post 😂 (okay, im not, but it helps)

If you have read all that, here’s a little vote for a new series: Azris fic (or another rare pair/crackship)? or new x Reader/OC fic (probably eris)? Something else? Not guaranteeing I’ll write any of them, but just to gauge what ya’ll might like to see

Now… onto the last chapter of Stories To Be Told :)

WARNING: mentions of nsfw things.

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Azriel and I didn’t come to training the day after either, both of us waking up way too late to even dare try and go. They’d probably be doing the final stretching before we’d even be ready. So we settled for a slow morning, memorizing each other’s lips.

We had, however, arrived for lunch. Nobody had said anything, but I could tell what they were all thinking. We had taken a bath before we left the room, but I knew that the bond could probably be scented quite easily now.

That afternoon, Azriel had to do some paperwork, but I relaxed with him, reading a book, surrounded by his scent. A note arrived sometime.

Family dinner tonight at the River House. See you both there.

Azriel scoffed. I lifted a brow at him in question. “Rhys,” he explained, “wants us to attend a family dinner. Clearly, Cassian told him something, because he said ‘See you both there’ like he knows.”

I chuckled a little. “Does he need to pay for traumatizing you too, my love?”

“By the Cauldron, yes. Him and Feyre, I swear. I have just been suffering. The only thing that did go right was that Cassian was the one brawling with Rhys after their bond. I was saved from some bruises.”

“Oh,” I paused. “I forgot about that part. And they what?!”

“Which part?”

“The part about bonds where the males get really… protective.”

Azriel snorted. “I’ll try my best at this dinner, angel, but do offer me some leniency.”

“As long as you offer me the same leniency, because I am one hundred percent laughing my ass off if you growl at Rhys."

He rolled his eyes. “I won’t growl at him-”

-----

Azriel growled deeply as we walked into the dining room. Rhys’s eyes had been up and looking for us, latching onto me, since I’d been the first to enter.

I snorted, and patted Azriel’s shoulder.

Rhys tipped his head back and laughed. “Alright, Cass, you win,” he chuckled. “You were right about Az being a possessive type.” A gold mark was thrown in the direction of the general, who quickly pocketed it.

I huffed out a breath in amusement and spotted Mor looking quite confused. Oh, this was my chance!

I left Azriel’s side, even as he glared daggers at Cassian, who was sitting near Mor. Mor’s eyes did indeed practically pop out of her skull when I came near enough.

“YOU’RE MATES?!” She squealed.

My face widened into a grin and I nodded.

She let out another happy squealing noise, throwing her arms around me. Azriel growled again and I laughed, backing up a step so that Mor was forced to let me go. She was smiling at me. “Oh! I’m so happy for you!” She squealed again suddenly, startling me slightly. “Welcome to the family!” She said quickly. “I was first!”

I turned my face again slightly in a useless effort to hide my huge smile from those words. Azriel curled a hand around my waist. “This is your family now,” he whispered.

I lifted a hand to rub my smile away, but it didn’t work. So I turned to behold my new family.

Rhys was grinning, with Feyre looking at me warmly. Nyx was obviously happy. “Does that mean I have a new aunt?” He asked Rhys.

“I suppose so,” Rhys chuckled. “But ask Y/N.”

I bit my lip. There was so much joy coming from me right now. Nyx turned to me expectantly.

“If you want me to be…” I replied. “You can call me aunt.”

“Yes!” Nyx threw up a fist in victory. “Auntie Y/N! Now you have to help me steal all the chocolate dad hides in the pantry.”

I snorted in amusement, giggling softly. “Alright Nyx.”

“Don’t conspire in front of me!” Rhys exclaimed.

“Did we just conspire?” I asked Nyx. He shook his head, smiling wide. “See Rhys?” I turned to face the High Lord. “We didn’t conspire anything. You must be hearing things.”

“Welcome to the family,” Cassian hummed, arm thrown over Nesta’s shoulder who sat beside him. “I would come over there and bowl you to the ground in a hug, but you have a possessive shadow death monster attached to you.”

That broke the last of the restraint I had on my laughter. I wheezed loudly, knees going weak from the force of it. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, but almost everyone had joined in. Even Az. Nesta stood and came over. Azriel almost growled a warning, but I slapped his shoulder, stepping out from his grip to hug my sister. My first family here.

There weren’t any words shared between us, but as Nes pulled away, she gave me a soft look that said everything.

Amren gave me a little dip of her head, and I deduced that was likely all I was going to get from her. Lucien and Elain, two people who’d I mostly forgotten about, also gave me slight smiles. They seemed… close, but also not as close as any of the mated couples in the room.

I sat beside Azriel at the table, and ate with my new family.

-----

Later in the night, when mostly everyone had gone home, Azriel asked me the question.

“I know I’m traditionally meant to kneel down before you,” he began. “But I haven’t had the chance to buy a ring yet, so I’ll do that a bit later since I’m impatient. Would you marry me Y/N?”

I squealed immediately, turning so that I was sitting in his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Yes!” I said loudly, drawing the attention of the remaining people in the room. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Cassian, and Nesta.

I kissed him swiftly, which probably gave the others enough of a guess of what had just transpired.

“We are having a wedding,” I told him. “Family only.”

Azriel grinned. “Whatever you want, angel.”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Nyx exclaimed loudly, like it was a celebration.

I turned, grinning widely. “Officially,” I agreed.

Rhys smiled, his teeth showing. “Congratulations,” he said.

Feyre scoffed. “You’re so dull Rhys,” she admonished, bursting from her seat to wrap me in a hug. “Congratulations. Welcome to the family.”

“I was just trying not to get attacked!” Rhys protested. “Azzie is terrifying.”

I huffed in amusement. “Azzie?” I questioned, turning back to my mate with a smirk.

He snorted. “You are not calling me that,” he chuckled. “Rhys gets to do it only once a month.”

“Azzie…” I cooed, and paired the nickname with a scratch at his scalp. He seemed to be placated, but glared up at me petulantly.

“I’m getting bowled over,” someone said from behind me, and then wrapped two large muscled arms around my shoulders, lifting me up. I squealed at the movement, crushing my wings to my back. Cassian laughed as Azriel got to his feet immediately, eyes darting around like he was trying to deduce the easiest way to free me from Cassian, without hurting me.

I slapped Cassian’s arm. “You idiot!” I yelled happily as he only tightened his grip. “I yield!” I shouted. “I yield!”

Cassian squeezed even tighter for a moment before he let me down. I turned to him with a challenging grin.

“I have another sister,” he reasoned. “I had to make sure she knows I give good hugs.”

“You call that a hug?” I scoffed, grinning. “I prefer Az’s.”

There was a sound behind me that told me Az agreed with me. He took his seat again, the couch dipping.

“Well then,” Cassian said, voice challenging. “I guess I have to try again. Because I always give the best hugs-”

I dodged his next attempt, shooting out my foot as he took a step forward so that he tripped right onto the couch, face planting almost directly into Azriel’s lap. I was surprised when I felt a surge of possessiveness from myself at the sight of Cassian so close to my mate’s lap.

Cassian was laughing and sputtering as he stood back up. “I’m making you pay for that in training,” he growled.

Those words made a bolt of heat travel up my spine. Goddamn, had Azriel really ruined those words for me? Must have.

I tried to keep my scent in check as I coughed. “Sure you will,” I challenged. “I’ll win.”

“You can try,” Cassian scoffed. “I always win.”

“I’ll win because Nesta is on my side,” I chuckled, meeting Cassian’s mate’s eyes across the room, still sitting on the couch with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

Cassian turned with a look of betrayal on his face. “How dare you!” He accused dramatically.

I chuckled, and fell back onto the couch beside Azriel. “Love you,” I chuckled, kissing him gently.

His hand fell onto my thigh, just a little too high to be normal. “I felt that through the bond, you know,” he informed me as I pulled away.

I blushed. “Shut up,” I growled. “Or I’ll show them where you’re ticklish.”

He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said playfully.

“Oh I will,” I said.

Azriel trailed his hand up threateningly, and I basically leapt up on top of him, and went for the ticklish spot in his armpit. He wheezed, capturing the attention of everyone.

“That’s where you’re ticklish!?” Cassian exclaimed. “Damn it. I’m exploiting that.”

I grinned as Azriel’s eyes widened even as he struggled to get my hands away from his ticklish spot. “I’ll kill you,” Azriel managed through his laughter.

“Not intimidating,” Cassian chuckled. “You’ve used the line too much.”

I relented after a moment. Azriel heaved for breath, glaring at me. He leaned up to whisper in my ears.

“You’ll pay for that.”

I grinned. I planned on it.

-----

It was the Winter Solstice, and goddamn was it cold outside. I heard a shout as Rhys assumingly got pummeled by snowballs by Cassian. No surprise there. Cassian apparently had been “training” for the annual snowball fight my mate and his brother’s had every year. As I gathered up my own snowballs to launch my attack on Cassian, I smirked in the direction of Azriel’s snow fort.

We weren’t explicitly teaming per say, but we were acting as tentative allies. That little peace treaty would break as soon as Cassian began to complain about his toes freezing off.

Az had mentioned this tradition about a month ago, explaining Cassian’s training, and Rhys’s determination to beat him. Apparently, my mate was by far the most competitive for the fight. He’d won basically every fight leading up to this one. Rhys and Cass had quite a few wins, but Azriel? Azriel definitely had the most.

I offhandedly mentioned that if I were a part of the snowball fight, I’d go straight for Rhys’s face and then pummel Cassian. Then deal with Az.

Azriel, apparently, having taken that internally, offered to let me join. His brother’s mates hadn’t been interested in being out in the cold for hours, but me? Oh I was so for it. No magic. No wings. Just an even playing ground for the Illyrian idiots who just wanted to pummel each other with snowballs.

Rhys immediately let me in on it, even trying to covet an alliance with me throughout the month, but little did he know that Azriel would be getting my “support” through the game. He’d gasped dramatically when I told him I was betraying him right after he’d told me all the strategies he planned to use. Oh, it was so worth it. Now I knew the High Lord was worried, and preparing for that strike that would end him, coming from me.

Cassian shouted as the snowballs hit him from behind his fort. “Y/N!” He shouted angrily. But a playful angry. “I’m going to get you for that!”

“Just try!” I challenged.

For another three hours, we fought. When it was basically just Azriel and I, I turned on him immediately, gaining the element of surprise as I came up behind him and stuffed a whole pile of snowballs right down the back of his leathers.

He screeched and tried to shimmy them out.

“Betrayer!” He shouted, apparently giving up on getting the snow out, and intent on getting revenge. He picked up a pre-made snowball, but I merely smirked and produced one last snowball in my hand, and threw it directly into his forehead.

Azriel groaned, wiping his face. “I’m fucking freezing,” he admitted.

“Do you yield?” I asked him, and subtly packed another pile of snow together with my boots to easily form into a snowball and throw it at him if he didn’t.

“Fine, yes,” he groaned. I grinned.

“RHYS! CASS!” I called. “YIELD OR DIE UNDER THE POWER OF Y/N!”

“I yield!” Cassian yelled back. “My ass is numb.” The second part was quieter, but just loud enough to be heard.

“Never!” Rhys shouted.

I stole some of my mate's snowballs, holding them with one arm and leaped over the fort, running across No Man’s Land. Then I leaped straight into Rhys’s fort and pummeled him with the snow.

He screamed dramatically. I smirked, and then gathered more ammo, and stuffed it down his neck as he tried to clear his vision. “I yield!” he shouted. “Fucking hell! No! Don’t stuff it down my shirt even more-”

I chuckled, and then with one final push of the snow down his shirt, I stood and vaulted over the fort again, hands raised in victory.

“FIRST WIN!” I shouted, laughing hysterically after.

Cassian came out of his fort, shivering. Azriel was still struggling with the snow down his shirt. Rhys basically dragged himself out of his fort.

“Too cold,” Cassian said, “to care.”

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. “Come on then idiot. Your mate can console you for your horrible loss.”

“This is horrible!” Cassian complained.

“Let’s go to the damn birchin before my toes decide to fall off,” Rhys said, shivering as well.

We’d decided before that they’d not go in completely naked, despite tradition. Azriel was way too possessive for that. They’d keep their undershorts and I’d keep on my undergarments.

“Who won?” Nesta asked as we came inside. Her stomach was just slightly starting to get that little bump that told everyone she was having a child. I silently hoped for a little girl.

“I did!” I announced triumphantly. “These males stood no chance.”

Feyre snorted in amusement. Gwyn clasped me on my back. “Better you than them,” she joked. Emerie, who was beside Mor, called out a congratulations.

“You guys should compete next year,” I suggested. “We’d be the height of competition.”

“Freezing in the cold for hours?” Emerie asked. “No thank you. Not even on a good day.”

“Boring,” I teased. “Is Mor making you soft dear sister?”

“Shall I slap her?” Mor asked.

“No, I’ll make her pay for it in training,” Emerie chuckled.

“Just try me,” I challenged. “Just try.”

“Oh I will,” Emerie chuckled. “Now go sweat with the other idiots.”

Azriel chuckled, putting a hand around my waist and leading me in the direction of the birchin. “Come on love, I’m freezing still.”

“Fine…” I would be merciful… today. I pecked Azriel on his cheek gently. “Only for you.”

“Oh yes,” he chuckled. “So merciful towards your mate.”

I scoffed, smiling. “Love you.”

He smiled, and said that little phrase that always left me breathless from the sheer love.

“It’ll always be you.”

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TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

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vdragoncatgirl · 2 years

Text

Winter’s Dragonfire

chapter 3 - blackwater

the hound/sandor clegane x targaryen female oc

roughly follows canon timeline (tv)

From a dinasty once defeated, a child with unmistakable silver hair was born in the frosted lands of the North. Her journey east awaits with a kiss of fire.

words: 4080

notes: +18 content! a very interesting chapter that i’m really proud of 🤭 these first three chapters are my beloved, and the next to come also have doozies for you all. also posted in AO3 (link below)

Inside of Rhaenys’ new chambers, she sat in the sunlight and contemplated the beautiful view from the big window of the room she had been put in. It was not at all the same kind of space reserved for lords, ladies or royalty, but certainly the fanciest bedchamber the girl had ever been in. Though the days were just as empty and dull as before, she had more resources to entertain herself there, like staring out the window and listening to gossip in the corridor by sitting next to the door. Now she realised she was probably eating at least the same as the servants rather than the scraps of their meals, and it was good enough for her. She had a bath every few days and wasn’t in any place to complain except for an overwhelming sense of solitude. She longed to see another person, anybody, to walk somewhere again and talk to those whose voices she could hear in the dead of night. Whenever she heard heavy footsteps in the halls, she liked to imagine it was the Clegane man walking through the corridor. But no one ever summoned her again.

It wasn’t until one fateful night that the girl would finally push herself out of that room as she heard a loud commotion going on all around the castle. People were running through the halls and talking loudly, some were screaming and every voice was hasty and afraid. It wasn’t long until Rhaenys was afraid, too. She glued her ear to the door and tried to make out at least something that could indicate what was going on as people ran by.

— … blackwater — she heard.

— … Stannis..

— … women to the basement..

Rhaenys was nothing if not quick witted, at least enough to conclude: Stannis Baratheon. He’s invading Blackwater Bay.

The girl had done enough research and read enough messages from her father’s ravens to know that that invasion had only been a matter of time. It seemed that now the time was over. Her heart started to race. The Baratheons were the head behind the usurping of the Targaryen dynasty, and their hatred towards them was well known. Even though Robert Baratheon was dead, Rhaenys feared getting in Stannis’ hands could be just as bad, maybe worse than any plan the Lannisters had for her. This is the time to flee, she thought. No one would bother guarding her or making sure she couldn’t escape during an invasion. She looked around trying to figure something out, but the door was always locked and the window was well above any sort of ground.

She picked up a metal chair that stood near a little table on the opposite side to the bed with some effort. Physical strength was definitely not something she had been blessed with, but it was still worth trying. She grabbed it hard and slammed the chair’s legs into the wooden door with a loud bang. It didn’t even bulge, of course, and so the girl repeated the effort several times. After her arms ached and she could barely hold the chair anymore, she let go of it and analysed the door to see that some of the metal parts had been slightly damaged. Rhaenys kicked it several times until her legs were painful and itchy, but nothing happened.

The girl sat on the floor in front of the door and growled in frustration. Tears formed in her eyes and she sobbed angrily, grabbing on her face and hair tightly until she accidentally touched one of her burns. It hurt like hell, but the scream she let out was one of anguish and anger rather than pain. Rhaenys got up and paced around the room, often times looking through the window and briefly considering taking the risk of climbing down of even jumping. But she considered that even she managed to the ground without getting hurt, outdoors on the Red Keep it would be much more likely she would bump into soldiers. And that was not something she could risk. It would be better to remain imprisoned. She paced slowly to the bed and laid facing away from the door and sobbed, grabbing the sheets in her fists.

After a long time, enough for the tears to have passed and a slight sleepiness to come creeping to her head, the girl heard two loud bangs on her door that jolted her awake and made her roll out of the bed to the opposite side. She covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly in fear. Now it’s the time. Now it’s over, she thought.

— Dragon girl.

Rhaenys jumped at the sound of a deep voice coming from the door. She looked over from behind the bed and saw the Hound standing in the doorway, staring at her. He had, somehow, broken the door and it was almost falling off the wall. Her eyes widened looking at the door, then at him, and she got up. That was the last person she was expecting to see. His face was covered in blood and sweat, and for a moment Rhaenys wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or frightened. The man stepped into the room and she stood still as a rock.

— I’m leaving this fucking city. I can take you and the Stark girl back to the north. — he growled after a moment of silence that felt much longer than it had actually been.

— Oh gods — she let out a gasp, relief choking her as she realised what he had said. — Thank you sir, of course I will come.

— You wait here. — he turned her back to her — Don’t call me sir.

Rhaenys waited nervously by the bed, her mind racing as she struggled to gather the few belongings she still had. Contrary to the man’s orders, she left the chamber and crept around the nearby rooms and took every small item of value she laid her eyes upon. She was not thrilled to go on another journey without supplies and no money.

After a while the girl heard heavy steps coming in her direction, so she scurried back to her door. She had concocted a small bag with her old clothes and rags in which she placed the valuables, and was holding it in her arms when the Hound appeared before her again.

— Where’s the girl? — she said confused, looking out to see if Sansa was anywhere near.

— She wouldn’t come. Let her. — he said, and started walking away. Rhaenys followed.

At first the girl was doing her best to make as little noise as possible, but soon realised that was not the case for the Hound. He had a wineskin in his hand and walked fast with his usual heavy steps Rhaenys had to almost run to keep up with. They walked a long time through halls she had never seen, but that he knew quite well, up until the stable where horses stood restless and loud. She observed Clegane going up to a huge black horse that she saw him stroke for a second before pulling himself up to the saddle.

— Get up here. — he growled.

— I should get one for my own. — she said without hesitation and looked around to pick one. She didn’t want to ride the same horse as him just in case things got sour in their endeavour.

— Fuck off, girl. These are bloody war horses.

She didn’t answer and simply glared up at him in disapproval.

— Go on then. I won’t fucking wait for ya.

Rhaenys hastily looked around for some horse that wasn’t as overwhelmingly big as most of them. Thankfully, due to the battle they were already saddled, though they were not being used and the stable was empty and silent. She finally picked a shorter one with pretty white pelt, and filled the saddlebag with the valuables she had stolen. She looked to the side to see Sandor riding away already. The girl rolled her eyes and put her horse to motion while still climbing up the stirrup.

— What now? — she put herself next to him.

— Now I’ll get far away from this fucking castle full of cunts.

Rhaenys and the Hound rode north for a good two hours before stopping at a big grassy field with a few sparse trees. Riding a war horse was no joke, and quite difficult to handle, but she tried to seem steady and stayed behind him so he wouldn’t see her struggling. The moon was up high in the sky when the both of them got off their horses. She saw him take his saddlebag and place it on the ground and did the same. The girl sat next to it on the grass, with her chin on her knees.

— So what of the battle? — Rhaenys was interested in why he had fled in the first place and wanted to make a bit of conversation.

— Fuck the battle. — he rasped. But she didn’t want silence, not anymore. She had had enough of it.

— I understand why Stannis Baratheon wants the throne, since he’s the older brother and it seems that Joffrey’s a bastard and all. — she pondered out loud — But they’re all usurpers, be it Baratheon or Lannister, so in the end it doesn’t matter.

— What the fuck do you even know about these people? — Clegane had taken the wineskin again.

— I know who everyone is. I studied the houses before coming down south.

— All clever, aren’t you? Bet ya didn’t fucking know who I was.

— I think father forgot to mention Joffrey's big dog. — she smirked — I do now, though. I asked lord Tyrion about you.

Sandor scoffed.

— And what did the Imp have to say?

— I learned your name. — she said shyly.

None of them talked for a while. Rhaenys played with a strand of hair while he drank from his wineskin. She wanted some, too.

— Is that wine?

— Aye. — he handed it over to her begrudgingly.

— Thank you. — they were facing one another, a few steps apart. She knelt and crawled a bit in his direction to grab it from his hand. — Don’t like it really, but I’m dying for a drink.

— Bet you like some sweet dogpiss like rum — he snarled.

— I don’t. — she gave him a side eye — I like ale best. Sweet drinks taste like vomit.

— That’s a sight to see, a girl like you drinking ale.

— I’m not a highborn, you know. But maybe you’re starting to believe me. Also, I’m 19. Not really a girl anymore. — Rhaenys took a big gulp of wine.

— Not a proper woman either. Old enough to drink properly but not to know yer way around.

— I’ve seen a lot of ugly things. — she said, a little annoyed. — Blood, corpses, disease. I’m not a bloody coward.

— For such a brave woman, ya sure do a lot of fucking crying.

— And even still I always get what I’m after. I can do both just fine. — she took a sip and didn’t say anything else, but also didn’t look away.

The Hound was sitting on a tree root looking at the field around them. He had his armour on from the battle, which made him seem even bigger than he was. His face had smears of blood all over it, and with the haze of the wine getting to her brain, Rhaenys didn’t even try and pretend she wasn’t staring. Her eyes wandered through his broad shoulders, the detail of his armour and his boots, how he seemed almost serene in the moonlight, and she couldn’t help but get a little flustered about the things she began to think next.

Clegane noticed her with the corner of his eye. He was used to being stared at, but even with custom, it still annoyed him. He turned his head to curse at her, but saw the stare was not the kind he had imagined. Rhaenys’ head was tilted slightly to the side, exposing her neck a little, and she was stroking her hair delicately. She had her mouth slightly open, with an expression such as if she was dreaming. Without saying anything, he stared back at her until she finally noticed.

— Here. — she said timidly to break the tension — I saved you the last bit.

The girl got on her hands and knees to give him the wineskin back. She crawled closer, and stopped in between his legs, with her hand next to his foot. She looked up at Sandor, and he was staring right back still. He picked up the wineskin from her hand and drank the rest of it in silence. Rhaenys had sat down again and looked at her legs. They were a little shaky as she felt a pulsing force propelling her and her cheeks flushing from the alcohol and timid excitement. She was sitting on her knees right in front of him, and thought about getting a little closer.. but that thought was suddenly interrupted by Sandor getting up.

— Wineskin’s empty. Go to sleep.

— …right. I’ll go gather some firewood. — the girl got up too, a little disappointed.

—You won’t light no bloody fire. — he rasped sharply.

Rhaenys lifted her head and looked at him with furrowed brows.

— Why?

— I don’t wanna look at any fucking fire right now. — he growled and turned his back to her.

The girl felt a slight annoyance at his behaviour. He had a full armour, but she only had a feeble wool dress on to last the cold night. She opened her mouth to complain, however deep down she thought probably he wasn’t doing that to mean any harm. He must have seen something he didn’t like tonight. He smelled like smoke, anyway. Also, she had another fire going already inside her body, and it was enough to keep herself warm. But still, only herself.

— Won’t you be cold? — she said quietly.

— Shut up, dragon girl. I said no fire.

— No need for fire. — she said, and the Hound heard the light thud of clothes falling behind him.

He was facing back to her, then turned around to see Rhaenys taking off her last piece of clothing, leaving her only in her underdress. She was standing in the cold grass, looking up at him with a straight face and wide eyes. Sandor stared at her, genuinely surprised, and Rhaenys could see that in his face. She had no idea how he would react from that point on, thus hadn’t finished undressing. Neither of them moved a muscle; a long moment passed of dead silence, in which the girl could hear every chirp and buzz in those woods. She wasn’t ashamed, but was struggling to sustain the glare they were sharing.

Suddenly and without a word, the Hound lunged at her, making her squirm just enough for him to notice it and stop. She had shut her eyes and when she opened them, his were just as wide. Rhaenys didn’t mean to frighten him, but he was so hard to read she wasn’t ever sure what his intentions were, and was taken by surprise when he came close. He stood still hesitantly, so she took a step towards him and touched his armoured chest so lightly she could barely feel the cold metal against her fingers.

She could see how wide his nostrils were, how fast he was breathing. She thought maybe he wasn’t sure if he should play along. Had it been long since the Hound had laid with a woman if not a whore? A woman who willingly wanted him? She stroked the studs on his armour and looked up at him with doe eyes. She wanted him, she really did, but if he didn’t respond to that, there was still time to take it all back.

Sandor was also unsure. The look in her eyes was much different from a whore’s who was trying to fuck around for money, a look he knew quite well. Rhaenys’ stare was of an almost innocent lust he had a difficult time not responding to. That girl wasn’t worth anything to him, no ransom money was in sight for this common woman who had nothing but silver hair. It could be a bad idea to fuck her, as there was no telling what she would make of it all after the wine had worn off. But she was making her way into his body just through her big eyes and humble hints of lust, and if his mind could resist, the strain in his breeches was saying otherwise.

In a split second, he grabbed Rhaenys by the scruff of her neck and pushed their faces close together. He looked into her eyes very intently to again make sure that wouldn’t be a mistake, that she wasn’t just doing that to earn his favour. She had the same expression in her watery eyes, an inviting one that was not easy to refuse. Rhaenys looked away from Sandor’s eyes and to his mouth, his beard still wet with wine. Their breaths were a haze of alcohol and the Hound's face smelled of blood and smoke. She didn’t want to wait a second longer, the fire in her hips had grown into wildfire. She grabbed the metal plate on his chest and pulled him to herself in a kiss. It wasn’t a soft one; their lips pressed on one another harshly and she forced her tongue into his mouth, biting his lips. He reciprocated just as roughly, pulling her hair and holding onto it tightly. She held his face in her hands firmly, feeling his scarred leathery skin and pushing him into herself when he tried to pull away. When she had let go slightly from her tight grip, the Hound also let go of her and pushed her to the ground on her back. He knelt before her breathing heavily, grabbed her underdress by the collar and ripped it apart with no effort at all. Now the girl laid bare on the ground, her silver hair all over the grass and her face.

The Hound stared at her for a long time, Rhaenys staring back at him and seeing his eyes go through all the parts of her body. She didn’t have the body of a lady, and neither that of a whore, just ghostly white skin burned and scarred flushing with excitement. Her legs were trembling, so she was holding them together, but he grabbed her knees and spread them widely. Rhaenys whined and the man contained a smirk of satisfaction. She thought she had been winning that game, but it was much on the contrary. She had gotten what she wanted, but they were going to play by his rules. She watched as Clegane put his hands on her thighs and made his way from her hips to her chest. He grabbed her breasts and pulled her nipples hard, sucking and biting them, making her let out loud gasps. He paid no mind as to what could hurt her. The Hound then pushed her further back and grabbed her legs, so hard the skin turned red. He lowered his head in between her thighs and touched his lips on hers. The girl was not expecting that and covered her eyes for a moment from coyness. Her legs shivered when he started properly sliding his tongue all over her, and she felt she couldn’t do anything about it other than cover her mouth while she whimpered. She started breathing faster and making high pitched sounds she couldn’t control, until she let out a big gasp and her legs began to shake. The girl contorted into herself and opened her eyes to see Clegane lifting his head and standing on his knees. Without saying a word, he undid his belt and slid himself into her slowly all the way through.

The Hound grabbed her hips and pulled them up to his, and she squirmed when he started moving, his hands pressing on her skin tightly, even pressing down on one of the burn wounds in her arm. She squealed in pain and her eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t let go right away, and rather pressed tighter for a second before letting go. He lowered his head into her and bit the skin above her breast hard, making Rhaenys scream. She gave him an angry stare, but didn’t back down and rather forced her hips against his more at each stroke. He grabbed one of the girl’s legs and lifted it from under her knee, bit her again, at her inner thigh, and started to thrust harder into her. Rhaenys whined and twisted from the pain and pleasure from her insides that were still tight and sensitive. Sandor hadn’t taken any clothes or garments off, so his huge armour was clanging with each movement, dripping blood on the girl’s white skin. She looked at the red drops and then at him. She noticed his eyes wandering through the droplets and slowly reached her belly with one of her arms to smear them all over her body, mixing enemy’s blood with her sweat. The Hound saw that and this time couldn’t conceal his reaction. He grunted and grabbed her face by the cheeks with one of his hands, annoyed at how she could have pulled such a lustful move that could get to his core like that. He felt like a mad dog. He pulled himself from her and flipped her to her back, holding her still in all fours.

Clegane grabbed the girl’s silver hair and pulled it tightly, making her arch her neck. He spread the lips on her parts aside and went inside her once more. This time his thrusts were even harder and reaching deeper, which made Rhaenys whimper and gasp at every movement. The girl took one look behind at him, and was surprised to see how vicious his expression was, with bloody sweat dripping down his forehead. He now looked as if he was in a fight and was so enticed by it he couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. That was how he felt, too. Soldiers tend to agree that a good fight asks for a good fuck, so maybe the two things aren’t all that different. He grabbed her hips and dug his fingers into her skin, leaving marks that would soon turn into bruises. His movements started getting more erratic and Rhaenys felt him lowering his body towards her, until his cheek was touching her head and his mouth was right above her ear. She heard his breath getting faster and he grabbed her shoulder with one of his hands, biting down on it harder than he had before, while he pushed himself deep into her for a few final times. Rhaenys leaned her head into his face and heard a deep growl from him when he eventually stopped moving. The Hound let go of the tight grip on her shoulder, slowly pulled himself from her and then buckled his belt in silence. The girl laid on her side on the underdress below her with a deep sigh of exhaustion. Sandor looked at her for just a moment before standing up; she was panting and flushed, with blood and fluids and his bite marks all over herself. Seeing the dragon silver haired girl lying there after having his way with her like that made him feel slightly that she had been more worth rescuing then he had thought at first. He stood up at last, and Rhaenys watched as he got up and fetched her clothes.

The girl picked them up from his hand and saw him go over to his saddlebag and lay his head on it on the ground. He clutched his hands together in his belly and closed his eyes without another word. Rhaenys got up and put on her clothes, then crawled to her own bag, a safe distance apart from where he was sleeping. She bundled her torn underdress and held it in her arms for comfort on the cold ground. She could feel the soreness from her legs, the wet and sticky feeling of her thighs rubbing together and the lingering feeling of where he had touched her. She thought she was having her way with him, but the opposite seemed to also be true. She stared at him sleeping, at his scarred face, only closing her eyes once she couldn’t keep them open anymore.

#angst #game of thrones fic #game of thrones the hound #game of thrones oc #romance #sandor clegane #mywriting #game of thrones #sandor clegane fic #sandor clegane x oc #winter’s dragonfire #the hound

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

Text

Chapter 7: Boyfriend Duties || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Complete Faith (Masterpost)

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader; {background SJ x OC, mentions of YG x OC, and HS x OC}

Rating: Soft R overall, this chapter: PG-13

Wordcount: 50k total; this chapter: 4345

Summary: It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date in mind from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

Alternate summary: coworkers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again

TW/CW: Full list on the Masterpost. This chapter: strong language, a line that made me CHEW ON MY FIST I love it so much, alcohol consumption.

Notes: This fic is complete and will be updated every Friday evening (EDT timezone). A HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @kookstempo for the amazing beta job tytytytyty!

Chapter 7: Boyfriend Duties

July

Things go smoothly – better than smoothly – for a few weeks. Taehyung drives you into the city for the comedy show, and you hop around to a few bars when it ends, before ending the night back at your place again. The following weekend, you go to a movie and then walk along a nearby boardwalk. You flirt in a low-key way around work but generally don’t see much of each other outside of the lunch hour, and he texts you every night even if it’s just to send a stupid meme he thought was funny.

It's just… easy.

It’s a Thursday when Taehyung stops by your office unexpectedly in the afternoon.

“Hi,” he greets you, knocking on your open door. “Got a second?”

“For you, I might even have a whole minute,” you tease.

He casts a glance into the hallway to make sure you’re alone. “You know that I need more than a minute,” he murmurs at you suggestively.

“Kim Taehyung,” you scold, laughing. “You are the worst.”

“Not what you said last weekend,” he quips, and damn him, that’s actually true.

You let out a huff of playful frustration. “Is there something I can help you with?” you ask.

“Oh,” he says, remembering why he’d come there in the first place – which was not, actually, just to flirt with you. “Yeah, I wanted to talk about this weekend. Something came up with my family, so I’m going to be busy. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you say, but you’re disappointed. The dates so far just hadn’t missed, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to the next one… and the next post-date. “It’s okay. We’ll do something a different day.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, shuffling his feet a little. “But I want to see you outside of work sooner than next weekend.”

His pout is so adorable you want to scream.

“Well,” you say, feeling a little uncertain but pushing forward anyway, “would you want to just… I don’t know… come hang out after work? We could order dinner and just… chill?”

“Are you asking me to Netflix and chill?” he asks you seriously.

“Oh my god, can you be serious for two seconds?” you grouse, but you’re laughing.

“If you want that, I’d love to come over,” he says, hands in his pockets. “I’ll just run home and change first?”

You look at him silently, calculating, deciding just how far you want to stick your neck out. “You could bring your stuff for morning, too, if you wanted? Like, no pressure. It doesn’t have to be any every time thing, either, like it could just be this time? Then you don’t have to go home later, or early, before work?”

You’ve never felt so damn nervous in your life, not even at job interviews. If he gets weird now, you will absolutely never speak to another human again.

But Taehyung’s smile lights up his face. “You’re getting soft on me,” he accuses, still grinning.

“Never mind,” you say, swiveling your chair away from him and typing literal nonsense on your computer, just to look busy. “Offer rescinded.”

He raps twice on your door in goodbye. “See you around five-thirty,” he calls over his shoulder.

That night, as you lay together catching your breath, you ask him, “So what’s the verdict? You sick of me yet?”

Taehyung pulls you close, burrowing his face in your neck, breathing you in. His heart beats hard in his chest, against yours. His hands hold you tight, locking you in, keeping you safe.

“Baby,” he whispers, “I honestly cannot get enough of you.”

Another two weeks pass much the same way, and you meet up with Taehyung on a Saturday afternoon at Jungkook’s house for a cookout. You take an Uber there, assuming you’d end up going home with Taehyung, and walk around to the spacious backyard. A few picnic tables are grouped together, along with some wicker chairs and couches. There’s a currently unlit firepit at the edge of the yard, and a few lawn games are set up.

You rush to bearhug Jimin, whom you haven’t seen outside of work since the lake trip a month ago.

“Hello, cutie,” he tells you, lifting you off of your feet for a second. “Taehyung is inside grabbing some sodas.”

“Okay,” you say easily. You wave hello to the people you know – Seokjin and Yoongi, Yoongi’s girlfriend Ji-hyun, Namjoon, and Hoseok. You sit down near Seokjin and Yoongi to chat. Jungkook comes out of the house, followed by Nikki. She widens her eyes at you, then points frantically at her phone. You get the idea and pull yours out quickly.

[3:14 pm] Nikki: the girl that dumped Tae the day of the trip is here????

[3:16 pm] Nikki: APPARENTLY DEMI IS HER COUSIN

[3:17 pm] Nikki: why NONE of these dudes could tell us that, I do not know

[3:18 pm] Nikki: consider this your heads up lol they hate you already

Your stomach twists in anxiety and she sends a kiss emoji to remind you that she’s got your back. You take a deep breath and open a text for Taehyung.

[3:20 pm] You: hey… Nik just told me who’s here… just wanted to let you know I’ll play it however you want today. If you want to act like we’re just friends so it doesn’t get dramatic, it won’t hurt my feelings

The next people out of the house are the girls – Hoseok’s girlfriend Demi, and the other one must be Seo-yun. Nikki is right – they are not here to be friends, which is their right. They give you a wide berth and head over to the currently abandoned cornhole game, starting to throw casually to each other.

Taehyung comes out of the house next, looking almost angry. He scans the yard until he finds you, and then he hurries down the wooden deck stairs.

He strides over to where you’re perched on the edge of the picnic table and gets right in your personal space. He takes your face firmly between his hands and kisses you deeply, sweetly, slowly. Someone (Nikki or Jimin, you’d bet anything) whistles.

You look at him, feeling totally ambushed, as he pulls away.

“That’s how I fucking want to play this,” he growls at you.

You blink at him, surprised, but also so turned on. He’s not done yet, though. “Act like we’re just friends? Get the fuck out of here with that shit, Y/N.”

You gape at him. “Wait, are you angry?” you whisper. “I was trying to be considerate. I don’t want to spend all day trying to act like I’m not crazy about you. I want to be with you.”

That takes all the air out of his sails, and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. “No, I’m not mad,” he assures you, then adds, “At you, anyway.”

You wonder if you missed some ugliness in the house. Nikki will update you later, you’re sure.

“Come on,” he says, just as you had once said to him back at the lake, clearly wanting to move on from the tense moment. “Let’s have some fun.” He rummages in the closest cooler and digs out a beer for you, popping it open and handing it over before reaching for his own. Hoseok and Namjoon head over to the girls at the cornhole boards, intending to play 2-on-2 as intended.

You sit around with your crew - Nikki, Seokjin, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, Ji-hyun, and Tae - for a while, everyone eating handfuls of chips, drinking beer, and talking shit. About an hour in, your conversation with Jimin is interrupted when a string of cold water hits him in the chest, splashing onto you as well.

“What the hell?” you gasp, looking to find the source. Jungkook, armed with a water gun bigger than a cat, cackles as he sprints away.

Jimin leaps up in hot pursuit, and Taehyung comes around the side of the house at a jog - you’d wondered where he’d gotten off to - and tosses a (much smaller) water gun at you, keeping one for himself. It becomes Everyone versus Jungkook, and somehow Jungkook is winning. You run around like idiots, screaming, until you’re all soaked and laughing, out of ammunition. Jimin heads towards Nikki and Seokjin - who had watched all of this nonsense from the wicker furniture - and shakes like a dog, making Nikki scream. Jungkook grabs another beer and goes around the house to, presumably, refill his super-soaker.

You start to head back, hoping you can head inside and find a towel, when Taehyung gets you right in the back - apparently not as out of ammo as you thought he was.

“Oh,” you laugh, low and threatening. “You’re dead.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” he taunts, laughing.

“Maybe you should be,” you say, cocking an eyebrow.

“Come get me, then,” he goads, sliding the plastic piece up and down the water gun to indicate that it’s loaded. You jolt towards him, hoping to wrestle it away from him, but he drops the water gun in the grass and grabs you around the middle, swinging you away from it. You shriek, still laughing wildly, and lift your knees in an attempt to bring him down by going dead weight.

He lifts you easily and then sets you down gently, still chuckling, and you put your feet on the ground. His hands are still on your stomach, and he presses his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes for a second.

“I think I win,” he murmurs, low, just for you to hear.

You spin around to face him, stretching up to give him a quick kiss. “Funny,” you say, starting to walk back towards the house, “I was thinking the same thing.” You’re aware of Demi and Seo-yun watching you from the side of the yard. You head up the deck stairs and pause at the top, wringing out your hair so you don’t drip through the house.

“Jungkook,” you call down, “where are towels?”

He yells directions to his linen closet and tells you to “take whatever”. You head inside and down the hallway, finding the towels easily. You grab two, planning on giving one to Taehyung, unless he is engaged in warfare with Jungkook again, which is extremely likely.

Back in the kitchen, Seo-yun is rummaging in the fridge. You try to keep pace and just sneak past her to the door, but she straightens up when she notices you.

For a second, you just stare at each other. She is cute, Nikki was right. You feel weird, guilty, and you remind yourself that she left Taehyung, not the other way around.

“You’re Y/N, right?” she asks finally, closing the fridge and leaning back against the counter.

“That’s me,” you say, trying to keep your voice as light as possible. Your adrenaline is pounding; you are deeply conflict-averse. You wish you could Bat-Signal Nikki for backup.

“You’re still with Taehyung?” she asks flatly.

“Obviously,” you say, some attitude creeping into your voice, which for you is practically aggressive.

She looks at you for a minute, appraising. Then she says, “You seem like a decent person. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You don’t want to play this game, honestly. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response. You choose to just purse your lips, crossing your arms. If she has something she needs to say, she can just say it. She won’t get any help from you.

She doesn’t need it, apparently. “What’s it been since you got together, a month?” she asks, voice lilting suddenly, like she’s caught onto something.

You continue to abstain from responding. You’re honestly not sure why you’re not halfway out the door already.

“I give it two more weeks tops before he stops answering your texts,” she tells you. “I’m not trying to be mean to you - I’m trying to warn you. He was cute with me in the beginning, too. And the girl before me.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?” you ask, voice cold. “Forgive me for not feeling super grateful.”

She shrugs, finally pushing off the counter and heading to leave through the sliding glass door. “Your funeral, I guess,” she says as she disappears through the door.

You stand there, feeling a little shell-shocked, when Taehyung comes through the door. His face looks how you feel.

“Were you out there?” you ask immediately.

“Just for the last bit,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” you scoff immediately.

Your bravado makes him grimace, which must mean he knows you well enough to recognize your bullshit when he sees it.

“Y/N,” he says seriously, “don’t let her get in your head.”

“I’m not,” you say. “I won’t.”

He sees through you, though. “I told you,” he says, voice quiet in case anyone comes up to the deck. “It’s different with you. It’s not even comparable.”

What does that mean, though? You’re dying to ask him, but something holds you back. Anyway, Seo-yun hadn’t said anything to you that you hadn’t already thought yourself.

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “Let’s just forget about it.”

When you reach for his hand to lead him back outside, he lets you.

The rest of the evening is drama-free, despite the wild beginning. Hoseok, Demi, and Seo-yun leave shortly after your little encounter in the kitchen, surprise surprise.

You spend a while laying on your back in the grass, side by side with Nikki, gossiping. She tells you that she thinks Seokjin might propose soon, and you both kick in excitement.

When the meat is done grilling, you all gather back around to eat, music playing from speakers set up around the tables. As it starts to get dark, you move to the firepit, circling your chairs around it. Taehyung pulls you over to sit in his lap, his arms around your waist. You loop one arm behind his neck and settle in.

As you’re all talking, your phone rings, a number you don’t know, but it’s your hometown’s area code. You extract yourself from Taehyung’s lap and walk a few feet away before you pick up.

“Hello, I’m trying to reach Y/N?”

“This is Y/N,” you say.

“Oh, hi sweetheart. This is Abby’s mom, I have Sierra here? I’m so sorry to bother you, but her mom was supposed to pick her up about three hours ago and we haven’t been able to reach her…”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly. “Okay,” you say slowly. “I’m almost an hour out of town, but if you text me the address I can come pick her up. Can you tell her I’m coming so she’s not worried?”

“Of course,” the woman says. “I’ll send it right now. I’m so sorry to do this to you…”

“Don’t be,” you tell her. “Thanks for calling me. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

When you hang up, the whole circle is looking at you. You realize you don’t have your car with you.

“I have to go,” you say, your voice sounding strange and hollow. “I -.”

Taehyung and Nikki both rise, then look at each other, as if trying to decide whose jurisdiction this falls under.

You feel frozen, unable to make any concrete moves. Your mind is miles away, trying to remember the names of rehab centers, places your mom would go when she used to vanish more regularly, hospitals you should call first. You’re getting ahead of yourself, you know, but you can’t stop the spiral once it starts.

“I’ll take you,” Taehyung says to you, voice quiet. He turns to Nikki. “I’ll handle it. Stay here and have fun. I’ve got it.”

Your hands are shaking. “Sorry,” you say to the circle at large. “Jungkook, thanks for hosting. This was really fun. I’m sorry – my little sister -.”

“It’s cool,” Jungkook says breezily. “Thanks for coming. Talk later, Taehyung?”

Taehyung nods at him and leads you away, an arm around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, bending low to talk to you.

You dodge the question. “Here’s the address. I really appreciate you taking me. I forgot I don’t have my car.”

You text him the address and he lets you get away with avoiding the question. He seems to understand the sense of urgency even though you’ve told him literally nothing. As he navigates out of the neighborhood and back towards the highway, you say, “My mom was supposed to pick my sister up at a friend’s house three hours ago. They can’t find her. I have to go get my sister and bring her home. Then, hopefully find my mother.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, reaching over and taking your hand in his. It’s still trembling slightly, and he gives it a squeeze.

After a few miles of silence on the highway, he glances over at you, clearly concerned. “Do you want to… talk about what’s going on?”

“Eyes on the road,” you snap.

He looks dutifully back at the road.

You continue in silence for a few more minutes, and then you croak out, “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’m just freaking out. Like, completely.”

He squeezes your hand again, but doesn’t say anything, just lets you get there on your own.

“If this was four years ago,” you tell him, “I’d just assume she was high somewhere. But she’s been so stable for a long time now… so it could be that, or it could be just something normal like she forgot or she lost her phone… or it could be something not related to her recovery, but still terrible, like a car accident. Like, who knows? Anything is possible. All possibilities are currently on the table. I don’t even know where to start looking for her.”

“Is there someone you can call?” he asks.

“The police,” you shrug, “once she’s been gone long enough for a Missing Persons report. It’s hardly her first one.”

“There’s no one else…?”

“It’s just me,” you say, a little exasperated – at the situation, not at him. “My dad left her, my grandmother died, she has no one else.”

He gives you a look that you can’t read, and you carry on in silence. Halfway there, you curl your fingers and hold his hand back, tight.

“Listen,” you tell him, as you pull up to Abby’s house. “Sierra doesn’t really know. About my mom, I mean. She’s nine. She knows that when she was five, mom was sick and lived at the hospital for a while – rehab. Other than that, all she really knows is that my mom can be… unreliable.”

Taehyung nods to show he understands, and you hop out and head to the front door. Sierra greets you with a hug. You thank Abby’s mom profusely for keeping Sierra longer than scheduled, for feeding her dinner, for finding you.

You open the back door and Sierra climbs in, eyeing Taehyung in that special way that only pre-teen girls can.

“Tiny,” you say, “this is my friend Taehyung. Do you remember him from your violin recital?”

“You mean he’s not your boyfriend?” she asks, eyebrows bunching together, and Taehyung snorts in the driver’s seat. You shoot him a look.

You help him navigate to your mom’s house and let everyone inside. You set Taehyung up on the wifi so he can amuse himself, and take Sierra upstairs to get showered and ready for bed. You text Taehyung from upstairs – “You don’t have to stay, I’ll probably sleep here” – but he doesn’t answer.

“Are you sleeping over?” Sierra asks as you tuck her into bed.

“Probably,” you say.

“What about Mom?”

You shake your head a little. “I’m not sure yet what time she’s coming home, and I think her phone died. I’ll tell her to come up and say goodnight when she gets here, okay? And I’m not leaving until she’s home. I’m here, Tiny.”

Downstairs, you stop on the bottom step and cover your face with your hands and just breathe. You wish Taehyung’s question was reality – that there was someone you could call, a real adult, who could just take this responsibility out of your hands and deal with it. But your mother is your problem, always has been.

You don’t hear Taehyung coming, but suddenly he’s gently peeling your hands away from your face and wrapping you up in a hug.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“I don’t know where to even look for her,” you whisper back, closing your eyes, burying your face against his chest. You stand like that for a long time, just breathing in and out, just holding on.

You wake up to the sound of the front door opening. The living room is bright, so it must be morning. You’re on the couch, a blanket tangled around your legs. Taehyung is still asleep, one arm draped over you. You slide out from under his arm and head towards the noise.

Your mother is fussing with her shoes in the doorway.

“Where the fuck were you?” you hiss, and she startles, looking at you like you came out of nowhere.

“I got a call from Sierra’s friend’s mother that you were three hours late and they couldn’t find you,” you inform her furiously. “And since then, I’ve been counting hours until I could officially report you missing. I need to know what happened, Mother, because if this is going to be a thing again I swear to God I’ll take her with me right now.”

She’s still looking at you, totally flabbergasted.

“You have nothing to say?” you goad her. “I grew up not knowing when you’d come home. I grew up eating pop-tarts for dinner because no one was home to cook. I grew up wondering if this was the time you’d go and never make it back. I won’t let you do that to her, too.”

Suddenly, you feel Taehyung’s hands on your arms, effortlessly pulling you back. You hadn’t realized you were in her face. You hadn’t realized you were yelling.

She stares at you evenly, lips pressed together. You turn your head minutely to tell Taehyung, “It’s fine. I’m sorry I woke you. Can you wait for me by the car? I’ll be right out.”

He squeezes your arm once, nods politely at your mother, and slips out the front door. You face her again.

“Were you using?” you demand. “I just need to know. For Sierra’s sake, not for mine, and not for yours. It’s a yes-or-no question.”

“I went out,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t anything like – it wasn’t that.”

You feel like you’re the parent talking to a teenager who broke curfew.

“I fell asleep at a friend’s house,” she says. “I didn’t hear the phone ringing. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m honestly embarrassed.”

“You should be,” you spit. “Think about someone besides yourself for a change.”

You leave before she can react; you know that was out of line, and if she’d hit you for it you would have deserved it. You shake the whole way to the car, where Taehyung is leaning, waiting to open the door for you.

“You can go,” you tell him, not looking at him. “I’ll get home later, I’ll figure it out. You’ve already done too much, I can’t believe you slept on the couch because of me– I’m sorry– I-.”

He stops you. “Breathe.”

How come everyone is always telling you that?

You look at him, trying to follow directions.

“Let me take you home,” he says quietly. “You can shower and get comfortable and nap or whatever. I’ll get you food.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” you say, a little frustrated. “That’s boyfriend duties, you can just drop me off, it’s fine.”

He looks at you seriously, and you’re very aware that your mother is probably watching through the kitchen window right now. “What if I want the boyfriend duties?” he asks.

You’re reeling. His timing is terrible. You feel like a frayed wire from the last twelve hours – rushing to pick Sierra up, barely sleeping on the couch, worrying about potentially finding your mother in a hospital today, screaming at her just now, saying such hateful things…

But he was there for all of it, steady as a fucking rock, attentive and selfless. What kind of fool would turn that down?

Seo-yun’s words - and your own, honestly - swirl in the back of your mind. Two more weeks, tops…

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you whisper. You have no idea where your mind is right now. You need to sleep for eighteen hours and try again.

“I am extremely sure,” he tells you.

“After the hot mess you just witnessed?” you prod.

“I can handle your mess if you can handle mine,” he says seriously. “I want this, Y/N. I’ve been telling you since the lake and I’ve been trying to take it slow for your sake, but I can’t anymore. I want this.”

“Are you really sure?” you ask again, voice still a whisper.

He takes you home. You shower, braid your hair, and get back in bed. He lays with you, holding you tight, until you finally knock out. When you wake up, tangled together, you tell him, “I’m down if you are.”

“There’s gotta be a down bad joke in there,” he muses, and you smack his arm, rolling your eyes.

[2:36 pm] You: I’m sorry I said that to you. I was scared and angry. But I’m still sorry.

[2:49 pm] Mom: I appreciate the apology.

[2:50 pm] Mom: Anything else you want to tell me? Like maybe about the man who slept in my house with you last night?

[2:53 pm] You: apparently he’s my boyfriend…

[2:40 pm] You: Soooo I guess we’re official or whatever…

[2:41 pm] Nikki: SHUT UP

[2:41 pm] Nikki: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much for being here! I appreciate every single like and reblog!

Chapter 8 will include....... uh..... nothing, don't worry about it >________>

Please look forward to suffering it! Taglist | @rinkud

#bts fic #bts fanfic #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung romance #friends to lovers #coworkers au #slow burn #non idol au #Complete Faith fic

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strawwritesfic · 3 years

Text

Oh My Dear Master List

Summary: For [F Name] [L Name], Manhattan was nothing but a hellhole. She got out and wasn’t ever coming back. When a set of cut-rate superheroes tears the city apart, however, her grandmother sucks her back into that familiar life of loneliness and angry customers. Even worse, one of those superheroes has decided to use [Name] in another crazy plan to “help” his best friend. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Tony’s plan just might work-if only for a few months.

Challenge: “#1 AVENGERS ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!!!!“ by DancingBubbles on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; manipulative friends who won’t take no for an answer; dead parents; difficult relationships with family members; some language that might border on verbal abuse from a family member; angst; contrived coincidences; a generally unresearched depiction of paraplegia; set post-Avengers (2012) and pre-Age of Ultron; Tony & Bruce friendship)

Pairings: Bruce Banner/Female!Reader; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts; Past!Bruce Banner/Betty Ross

Notes: This is my very first (and thus far admittedly only) completed novel-length fan fiction. As a result, it is, in my humble opinion, not great. It’s not quite to Old Shame levels, because I’ve definitely written worse...*casually shoves Digimon 02 OC fan fic written in high school into a dark room* I’m pleased to have completed something, however, so I continue to tote it around with me from site to site. The style is simply very bare bones compared to my current writing style. Also, while I did do research for some things, there’s a lot left that, if I were to write this story from scratch today, I would spend more time researching (or things I would research, period, that I didn’t at the time).

This has been edited for basic grammar and spelling and paragraph formatting and a handful of quick fixes to the more egregious plot holes in the past year. I’m sure there are still mistakes. As always, you are welcome to make me aware of any that you find.

I was actually asked to answer this challenge. The only two requirements (well, for the most part) were that it be a certain amount of chapters (20, if I recall correctly), and that the reader be a civilian. I’m happy to report that I won…but there was only one other entry that didn’t even meet the requirements, so it’s not really something to brag about.

Posting Status: Complete

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Chapter 2: The World for a Coconut

Chapter 3: What Else Is New?

Chapter 4: With Friends Like These

Chapter 5: Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Life

Chapter 6: Blind Date

Chapter 7: Dead on Arrival

Chapter 8: Second Time’s the Charm

Chapter 9: From a Different Point of View

Chapter 10: Just Who’s in Charge Here?

Chapter 11: An Ass By Any Other Name

Chapter 12: Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

Chapter 13: Can’t Keep Your Demons in a Bottle

Chapter 14: Regrets? I’ve Had a Few

Chapter 15: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 16: Baby Steps

Chapter 17: Just Beneath the Surface

Chapter 18: Skeletons Live in More Than Closets

Chapter 19: It’s Never Pretty

Chapter 20: Breakdown

Chapter 21: “Luck” Is Not the Right Word

Chapter 22: True Beauty Is on the Inside

Chapter 23: Let’s Just Get This Over With

Chapter 24: NDA

Chapter 25: Beautiful Things

Epilogue

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susann-noir · 3 months

Text

Zarafae • Lolth-sworn drow • assassin

collab with @mogruith

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #drow #drow tav #bg3 tav #bg3 oc #Zarafae #another female OC post with barely any notes

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jkstompers · 4 years

Text

just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞人＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

1K notes · View notes

ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary: Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol!

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

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