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bestofbucky · 4 years ago

Text

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning.

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence.

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted. You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat with Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’ You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange.

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier.

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’ You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

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A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic) (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @elenawinchstr)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @myficplace @yelenas-lova @lavxnder @s-unflowxr

Summary: Benedict and Eloise both anticipate Lady (Y/N)’s social event, as does their mother, causing tensions to rise and panic to ensue. Benedict doesn’t want his mother ruining what he may have with (Y/N), asking Eloise for her help, who gladly plays the role of a good sister.

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Anthony Bridgerton and Violet Bridgerton

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Benedict hastily moved around the house, avoiding his mama at all costs. She called out his name repeatedly, growing frustrated at his childish manner. He was supposed to discuss a plan with her about how he should prepare to court Lady (Y/N), but he knew better; his mama knew nothing of (Y/N) (he admitted, he still had much to learn about her too), and he didn’t want his chance to slip away. Although he was confident at her house when he called upon her, there was a sickening doubt looming in his mind that if he did anything wrong, another suitor could easily take his place.

“You have no where else to hide brother.” Anthony smirked, his eyes skimming over the top of his newspaper.

Benedict sighed, accepting defeat. She would find him in a matter of minutes, especially since Anthony’s office was the last place she would look.

“Please, just let me stay her for a few moments.” Benedict begged.

Anthony chuckled, putting down the papers as he reclined in his chair.“Oh dear, I see things are turning serious quite quickly.”

“Yes, which wouldn’t be a problem if mama wasn’t making this such a big ordeal.”

“But it is to her.”

Benedict knew this.“I know that, because someone hasn’t found a woman to marry, so it then falls onto my shoulders.”

“I haven’t seen you so anxious before. Sit down, try to relax.”

Benedict took his offer, practically collapsing into the chair on the other side of the desk. Anthony stood, pouring out a drink each and handing one to Benedict. Though not one to drink in the early afternoon, he gladly sipped at it, wishing he would just calm down.

“Besides mama, what is going on in that head of yours?” Anthony asked.

He genuinely wanted to help. He felt a slight guilt knowing that his mama was more excited about this possible partnership, seeing as he never gave her the satisfaction of even socialising with women.

“I worry that I may not be enough for (Y/N).” he said.“Of course, I have talked to women, I know the right things to say, but I also know that I will not want to engage in further conversation. Whereas with (Y/N), she intrigues me, so much that even after we danced and talked for hours, I still felt like I hardly spent any time with her. I thought about every word I said, listened intently to everything that poured out of her mouth. There are no other women like her.”

Anthony didn’t speak for a few seconds.“You should write poems alongside your art work.”

Benedict groaned, about to stand when Anthony stopped him.

“I am teasing you brother. Look, it’s extremely obvious that you have fallen for this woman. Putting feelings aside for a moment, she also comes from a well off family with a respectable background, so you’ve done very well in that department. This art exhibition will allow me to also see what Lady (Y/N) and her family are like, as well as keep mama away from you both as much as I can.”

“You would do that for me?”

“You seem shocked. I will pretend not to be offended.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you too do not like to be....bothered by mama at these events. No doubt she’ll talk to you about my potential courtship all night.”

The door opened as he finished speaking, Violet popping her head in. Her smile widened when she saw both her sons in the same room, now able to speak with them both about Lady (Y/N). Anthony and Benedict shared a look, knowing they would be there for some time.

Elsewhere in the house, Eloise was suffering through a conversation with Hyacinth. As Daphne had to endure, Hyacinth was questioning her older sister, wanting to know everything there was to know about the balls they attended. She wanted to make sure she had all the knowledge she needed when it was her turn to debut. They never spoke of these things in front of her or Gregory and she wanted all the answers. However, Eloise was not revealing anything, and making it seems that everything to do with debuting was awful.

“Go away and pester somebody else.” Eloise huffed as she descended the stairs away from her sister.

“Why are you always so mean to me? I’m just asking questions!” Hyacinth protested.

Eloise felt guilty, especially since Hyacinth was still young and didn’t understand many things about the world yet.“I’m sorry, but I’m not the best person to ask these questions.”

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

“If I explain, you won’t understand.”

“Yes I will!”

“You won’t Hyacinth.”

“You’re so mean!”

The young girl stomped off, having a tantrum to herself. Eloise did feel bad for being so snappy with her sister, but she really didn’t like talking about these things, doing all she could to avoid it where possible. It just made her feel miserable. And who wants to dote on a topic that eliminates all happiness from them?

However, Eloise did find that she was excited about the art exhibition. She was curious as to how (Y/N) and her brother’s encounter would go. For a moment, she felt like her mama. It sent shudders down her spine. It was nice to have the pressure and attention off of her, and to see her brothers in the spotlight. She knew too many friends with brothers who had it easier than the women of the family. Of course they had certain expectations, but Eloise did not see any men parading around in uncomfortable, tight dresses, with over the top embellishments and feathers.

The remaining days leading up to the art exhibition were filled with dress and suit fittings, lessons on the (Y/L/N) family, and making sure everyone knew how important this day could be. Benedict grew more and more nervous as it approached, his mama making him realise that this could be a turning point in his life. Before this was all about him being excited to see (Y/N), to be in her company again, now it was as if he was proposing to her.

Eloise stepped out into the garden, welcoming the warmth that was still lingering at this time of night. She couldn’t sleep, knowing what was on her mind, but not wanting to admit it. She wasn’t surprised to see Benedict already on the swing set, secretly smoking as they had both done before. A small smile appeared on her face as she approached him, making sure to create some sort of noise as to not startle him.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one being kept awake.” she said as she sat down.

“I haven’t even tried to sleep yet.” Benedict said before inhaling through his cigarette again.

“Is someone nervous?” she wasn’t teasing him, she was concerned.

“Yes.” he surprisingly said.“I’m nervous because mother has made me believe everything is depending on this next meeting. Yet she forgets how long Daphne took to decide who she was marrying.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because (Y/N) likes you.”

Benedict chuckled."Ah, I forgot you were the expert on such topics."

"I may not know a lot about...feelings and love, but I am not a fool. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you first saw her. (Y/N) was practically speechless too. But not like the other women who fawn over the Bridgerton name, she actually liked you for your face, for some reason. I don't know, it just seemed that there was something natural between you."

"Eloise Bridgerton, what a doting thing to say."

"I am trying to be nice to you brother."

"I know. And I appreciate it, but...I feel at ease with (Y/N), and I don't like the thought of mother's eyes burning into the back of my head. Anthony has said that he will do what he can to help, but I fear that mother will not be totally distracted by him. She’ll know his sudden interest will be fake.”

Eloise had an idea, and even if she didn’t want to go through with it, she knew it would help Benedict.“I will regret saying this, but I shall help too. I will make sure mama is paying attention to me, I’ll let her drag me around and indulge in hideously, dull conversations.”

Benedict had been shocked for the second time that day. Two of his siblings, both detesting the thought of marriage, had offered to suffer through this social event in order to give him time with (Y/N).

“What has happened to you two today?” Benedict asked.

“We are merely being charitable. Hopefully you return the favour in future. God knows I’ll be in need of saving soon.”

(Y/N) was all a flutter on the morning of the exhibition. Her mother had bought a new dress just for this, wanting to impress the Bridgerton family, prepping their halls and rooms for the exhibition for the last week. (Y/N)’s father was proud of what he had created, and that his daughter may be on her way to marrying a family who were held highly in their society. (Y/N) couldn’t focus at all, relieved that her maids were the ones in charge of getting her dressed and ready for the day; if left to her own devices, she surely would have put her dress on backwards.

Guests streamed in, but (Y/N) was only on the lookout for one person. She remained polite, trying to stay in the moment as more and more people arrived. However, she still kept an eye out for Benedict, also staying on her toes. She had many things in mind to say to him, and she wanted to keep them in her mind. There was no way she was going to humiliate herself.

Her heart started beating a thousand times faster when she saw Benedict enter the main hall, the one holding the biggest and most expensive pieces of art. She smiled, and somehow it grew even bigger when he made eye contact with him. His smile was so sweet, it made you fall for his charms even more. Benedict felt his stomach twist in anticipation, desperate to have just a few moments with (Y/N). Alas, that did not come when his mama latched onto his arm, steering him in (Y/N)’s direction. Although he wanted to speak with her, he found it all rather forceful, especially when (Y/N)’s parents suddenly appeared behind her.

Formal introductions were made, each set of parents making small talk about the last time they were in each others company. (Y/N) and Benedict were silent, nodding along with what was being said as they sneaked glances at each other. The conversation was dragging for them, they knew their parents wanted to figure out if this could be a potential arrangement. It didn’t seem that they were going to stop talking at any point, neither child wanting to be rude, until Eloise intruded.

“Pardon me,” she started, sending a subtle smile to Benedict,“mama, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Ah, another Bridgerton. The next daughter to find a suitor, I presume?” (Y/N)’s mother beamed.

Eloise hid the urge to frown. Luckily her mother stepped in.“Yes, this is Eloise. I’m sorry darling, I did not mean to leave you stranded.”

“Yes, well, shall we?” Eloise tugged at her mother’s arm.

“Alright dear. It was lovely to see you both again.”

As Violet eagerly followed Eloise, (Y/N)’s parents also dispersed. Benedict and (Y/N) were now finally together, just as they had wished; so why did it suddenly feel awkward?

“Well, that seemed to easy.” Benedict cleared his throat.

“What was?” (Y/N) asked.

“Getting rid of them.” he grinned, holding out his arm.

(Y/N) smiled back, happy to hold onto him.“I was trying to come up with something to say that would not be rude, but would also mean we could leave. I hope that it wasn’t obvious I wanted to leave.”

“Even if it was, I doubt they would care too much. We both know they are over excited.”

“Oh how right you are. I’m assuming your mother has been acting the same as mine this whole week?”

“Overbearing? Overthinking? Over-”

(Y/N) giggled.“Yes, yes, I do not wish to dote on the memory. I am happy that you are here though Benedict.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

The pair’s arms stayed linked as (Y/N) guided Benedict around the art work. Sometimes they joined other conversations, though liked to keep to themselves. It was easy to bond over artwork, especially since it was a passion both of them had. There were no pauses or silences after a few minutes of talking, conversation flowed naturally between them. Men and women also searching for suitors were jealous; a Bridgerton boy had been swept up all too quickly and (Y/N) had been a popular choice amongst the men. However, people could not deny they made a fitting pair.

"Come, let me show you something." (Y/N) muttered to Benedict, easily slipping away from the crowds and leaving the room.

"We really shouldn't be alone (Y/N)." Benedict said, even though this was all he had been wanting.

(Y/N) had a cheeky smile on her face as she tugged on his arm, her steps gradually getting quicker. Benedict didn't even take in her elaborate house, only looking at her beautiful face every time she glanced up at him. They stopped before two grand doors, which (Y/N) cautiously opened, slipping inside with Benedict close behind her.

In the middle of the room was a huge painting covered by a fine piece of cloth. Benedict was confused why (Y/N) brought him to this, until she let go of his hand (him instantly missing the feeling), and theatrically pulled the piece of fabric down. Benedict's jaw dropped as the piece was revealed. He had never seen a painting like it.

It was a large, landscape painting of a ballroom. It captured dancing pairs in the middle of some sort of waltz, musicians huddled in the corner whilst the other guests stood watching; and it was so intricate, Benedict guessed it must have taken the artist months to complete it. All the colours, the detail, it almost looked real.

"This is amazing." he breathed out.

(Y/N) was happy when she saw Benedict's shock."Isn't it? It's supposed to be revealed later, but I wanted to see your expression properly."

"Who painted it?"

"I don't know. Father said he is going to inform everyone later, but it is a new artist. I just think they're work is dazzling to look at. I become mesmerised."

Benedict's focus changed back to (Y/N)."Yes, that does tend to happen."

She didn't notice that he was referring to her, nodding along in agreement. Her smile faltered slightly, which Benedict was able to see immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he neared her, hating the gap that was created

(Y/N) covered her slip up, as her mother had told her."I'm sorry, it's really nothing..." she started, but found herself relaxed, and wanting to tell Benedict all her problems."It's only that...I used to paint frequently, well, I sketched more, though I enjoyed both. Like all girls, my mother told me to stop that and focus on becoming the most desired lady in society. I shouldn't have even told you about that when we first met."

"That's what made me desire you (Y/N)."

She blushed, realising how intense his gaze was."Oh, Lord Bridgerton-"

"What's with all the formalities all of a sudden?"

"I-I don't know. I don't want to ruin anything and it's only our second meeting. Third if you count when you called upon me."

"And I called upon you for a very good reason."

"I was wishing that everyone else would leave, so I could spend more time with you."

Benedict loved hearing her say that."As did I."

Subconsciously they had moved closer, though they both knew what they were doing. Benedict reached down to tenderly hold her hands, causing her heart to beat erratically. (Y/N) had no idea what to do, she only had experience from the books she read. It seemed simple enough to kiss someone, but also the hardest thing in the world. How much pressure should she apply? How long should they kiss for? Where would she put her hands? Where would he put his hands? She didn't have anytime to think as he was already leaning in towards her.

Eloise and Anthony were finding it extremely hard to keep the fake smiles plastered on their faces. Benedict was really in for it once this was all over. Their mama had kept a tight grip on them both, because as soon as they saw their chance to flee, they would. Both had to suffer through extremely long, boring and repetitive conversations, listening to parents boast about their children's achievements. Everyone knew how this worked, yet they all had to pretend to be happy about it.

"Where is Benedict? He's been away for a long time." their mama pondered as they took a break for refreshments.

"He's probably wooing Lady (Y/N), just as you wanted." Eloise slurped on her drink.

"Do not fret mother, he knows what he's doing. He truly likes her and will be doing all he can to...well, yes, woo her." Anthony said.

"I suppose you are right. It feels strange that one of my children are making an effort for once."

Eloise huffed."Oh, do not chastise us mama. We've been doing this all afternoon, haven't we?"

Violet squinted her eyes at them, suspicious that they were up to something. She was about to question it, but stopped herself. They were doing what she always wanted, finding someone to spend their future with. She wouldn't jeopardise that. Lucky for them, a servant announced that Lord (Y/L/N) requested for everyone's presence inside. The guests were intrigued, following orders and grabbing full glasses of whatever quenched their thirst. Eloise and Anthony had got away with their plan for now, they just hoped Benedict and (Y/N) had had enough time together.

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alexlex2000-blog · 1 year ago

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Warning: long story. It might be a TL;DR (Too Long; Didn't Read) case for many. I have tried to highlight all the important moments, though, so I hope it helps.

Actually, there is a history to my practice which I think I understand relatively well. Everyone's spirituality has a history. Mine is as follows.

Until 2015 I was not very spiritual: my mind was about other things entirely, I was young and interested only in video games, some sciences, movies et cetera. I knew quite a few Greek myths (the Persephone might be my favourite) and knew some Gods were demonised for no reason (poor Hades), I knew about some deities from the Ancient Egyptian pantheon, but I never paid enough attention. But even then I felt certain curiosity about the statue of Anubis my family has brought from Egypt two years after I was born. I think it is a piece of the puzzle.

Then I have become true to my faith I was Christened into after birth and studied the Orthodox Christian spirituality. Until the end of 2022 it was my breath, my life and my wisdom. Most of my diligence was actually invested into studying theology and ethics: what are the Angels, Their ranks, what is Their purpose, how some of Them have become daemons later and what are the sins, why they are considered to be sins, what the Saints say about it all: that sort of knowledge. I never was very devout in practice, and only sometimes, while desperately praying, I could feel some comforting and reassuring presence. Back then I used to think it was God's grace, and I still think so, but in a different way. This might be a piece of the puzzle too.

In the beginning of 2023, I was suffering some doubts about my faith: these come and go when you do something spiritual. Before that I would just push them into the back of my mind, tell myself "if God does not want me to know something, probably it's for the best" and calm my sentimental volcano for another period. This time, however, I went to Church and asked the priest, one I respect (even now, because he is wise and honest within his confession), and basically he told me: "You know much more than other Orthodox Christians know, it is worthy, but to these questions I answer with more questions".

Soon after that I have left the Orthodox Church and decided to research other confessions. I have studied Arabic language and culture in the University and, as a theologian, I studied different branches of Christianity and Islam pretty well, so I was not interested in these systems. I have studied magic and invocation, but, either these were "bad teachers" or I misunderstood something, I could not look at it with anything but pity and aversion. You believe you may invoke any celestial or hellish being, any elemental or spirit, and you "work with them" to change something in your life which you could change naturally all by yourself? You could learn from them and probably experience enlightening and most pleasant socialisation with intelligent beings which are not humans, yet you choose to use this for something so mundane? Not my cup of tea, I beg your forgiveness. Maybe, I am wrong, maybe, I was misguided, but as I understand it, magic should be used more elegantly and for higher purposes then "attracting good into your life" and "making somebody else's life miserable risking your karma striking you into the ground for doing so".

Anyway, I have decided to better understand Buddhism, Hinduism and Yoga next. I have found some gurus and masters I respect (once again — even now. I might not agree with everything they believe, but I feel they are honest, diligent, kind and helpful persons who wish to teach those who seek their advice) and enjoyed studying. Reincarnation theories, divine and hellish worlds, the principle of "as above — so below", the chakras and different bodies, techniques of prana (chi, ki, ka, life energy) manipulation and astral projections, meditation — it all was a pleasant breath of fresh air for me. So I have practised this for some time, basically half a year. There were some positive changes, I believe, but still I felt being stagnant and incomplete, not truly happy.

While studying the Yoga and other adjacent systems (Actually, for Yoga any system is adjacent, it is very compatible, but I refer to Hinduism and Buddhism), I have studied the Ancient Egyptian mythology better. I took interest in Gods and events that were very creative and poetic. And then, I suddenly remembered the statue of Anubis. Some time passes: I visit my brother's house, and there, without looking for it directly, I somehow find it. As expected, it was collecting dust on a shelf, neglected and forgotten. I have asked permission and brought it home. A week passes, and finally, the story of my Kemetic practice starts for real.

I have heard about the Wiccan practices sometime, read a book "I am a Priest" or something like that, than forgot about it. But when I have recovered the statue of Anubis, I have revisited this research, but this time I have walked a different path. I have learnt Anubis is also called Anpu, Anup, Yinepu, and decided to call him Anpu, it felt more natural. Actually, I try the same with all Deities, especially after reading about Djehuty being a bit unpleasant with being called "Thoth". Some YouTube videos, those by LeafyWitch (very useful and inspiring, I thank her deeply) and LunarWitch (I have come to understand there is some truth to them, but some of my UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) contradicts what he says. He has my respect, but I think he has misunderstood Anpu in some moments. For example, Anpu does not "hate Sutekh", all Netjeru (Gods) are in harmony, after all) were helpful. Then I have discovered the subreddit Kemetic, and it is very useful too. So, on Thursday, August the 10th, I have gotten the book "Eternal Egypt" by Richard J. Reidy (great both for theory and practice, I recommend it strongly) and my practice has begun.

This day, I offered Anpu quite some actions. I have cleaned my place, set up a simple altar for him. I have taken a bath, washed myself, wore clean clothes and conducted my first, messy, yet sincere offering ritual.

I cannot describe what I felt back then in detail, I am sorry for it before myself and the others, but I have four words. "Reassuring and comforting presence". After the ritual I have been concentrated and mindful for a few days. I felt happy and devout, complete. I started doing my rituals daily, studying utterances and actions better and performing them better each time. I was set on becoming better for myself, the people, Anpu, the Netjeru and the Universe. This is my goal even now.

My practices now involve: making offering rituals as often as I can (ideally twice a day, in the morning and in the evening. For some time I maintained this practice, but recently it was a mess, so I had to become less consistent. I know Anpu understands) with bread (sometimes other food) and water (for Anpu I sometimes add dark beer and dark chocolate), candles (for Anpu — black ones) and incense (for any Netjer (God)/Netjeret (Goddess) — frankincense, Anpu enjoys Egyptian Musk), going to the graveyard and taking care of the graves there (if these are not of your relatives — make sure to not scare people by tending to random graves without asking permission first, though) and trying my best to become better, study something new about the Netjeru and Gods in general, being useful and helpful to myself, the people around me, and, hopefully, to the Gods and the Universe.

So, if you are interested in Kemetic practices or any practices really, here is my advice: research it, study it, and try it. If trying it does not hurt you or make you uncomfortable in a vile way, keep experimenting and keep concentrated and determined. Sincerety and diligence never stay unnoticed. Even if the magnanimous Netjeru (Gods) are not answering you immediately, remember: they accept your offerings and your devotion might make them warm up to you and put a slight smile on their faces. Stay patient, and this all will be rewarded. If not immediately by the Netjeru you worship, then first by the Universe, Atum, Amun and Ra, and then, given time and practice, by them.This is my credo as of now. I hope this helps somebody.

To Kemetic Devotees!

(And anyone else who'd like to chime in!)

How did your relationship with your deities start out? How has it evolved since then?

For myself, I started out pretty insecure in my practice. I was still in the broom closet, so there wasn't much I could do in way of worship and offerings at first.

As time went on, I started to grow a lot more confident in my skills, and also became more open with my practice when I finally started to open up with my deities as well.

#Spirituality #Kemetic #Kemeticism #Spiritual Path #Anpu #Anubis #Dua Netjeru #Dua Anpu #Dua Djehuty

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l4verq · 4 years ago

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fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #fatws bucky #fatws #flag smashers #marvel #mcu

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 3 years ago

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I Can Ease Your Pain Chapter Two

NUMBER OF CHAPTERS: 2/5 (Chapter Index)

WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Doctor Tom Hiddleston

GENRE: Drama, Hurt/Comfort (no Romance)

PICTURE CREDIT: Banner made by the amazing @prislaa Prislaa

SONG: Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd (with Bowie) (with Cumberbatch)

WARNINGS: Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Depression and Anxiety

AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you think any of the subjects in this story might have a negative effect on your well-being, please DO NOT read this story. Take care of yourself and don’t worry; you can check out some of my other fics instead that don’t have those warnings on them. Love, F.

SUMMARY You’re an awfully shy and quite awkward person. After an incident at an acquaintance’s party, a close friend takes you to the hospital to get you stitched up from a self-inflicted injury. At the hospital, you’re faced with a choice that might just change your life forever.

Chapter Two: I Hear You’re Feeling Down

The weekend passed and Monday came. Doctor Hiddleston greeted you with a smile when it was your turn to see him and he asked a couple of his colleagues to leave the meeting room so it was only you, him and a nurse left for your meeting. You felt relieved that you didn’t have to speak in front of all the student doctors and student nurses.

“So, [your name],” doctor Hiddleston said and looked sympathetically at you. He seemed so genuine in his care about you. “It’s nice to see you again. How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled in response. You didn’t really feel much better now than you did when you first met the doctor.

“Don’t worry if you’re not feeling better yet,” doctor Hiddleston assured you. “Those kinds of things take time. Do you want to know what I think we should do next?” You nodded at him. “I think you need to stay here for a bit longer, so I’ll make sure you get sick leave from your [work, studies or other responsibilities]. How does that sound?”

“It sounds alright,” you mumbled.

“Good,” doctor Hiddleston replied and wrote something in his notepad. “Have you tried the anxiety pills yet?” he wondered and looked through his notes. You nodded at him. “Did they help?”

“Not really,” you replied honestly.

“Okay. Then I’ll prescribe you something else. We always try antihistamines first, because sometimes they help reduce anxiety,” the doctor explained. You nodded at him to express that you understood. “I would like to know a bit more about how you’re feeling right now. Do you think you could tell me a little bit more about what it’s like to be you?”

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s kind of dull,” you replied honestly. Lately, you hadn’t been feeling like socialising and had mostly kept to yourself. The party you had been to a few days ago was something your worried friend had pushed you into going to, thinking that it would somehow be good for you to get drunk together with other people.

“I see,” the doctor said and looked at you thoughtfully. “Approximately for how long have you been feeling like this?”

“Months,” you replied and thought about it for a moment. “I suppose it started last fall.”

“So you’ve been feeling like this for quite some time,” the doctor concluded. “How come you didn’t try to get help for it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I… didn’t really see any point with it. I mean, I thought it was just the way life is, and that I just need to endure it and accept that it’s the way it is,” you explained.

“I see,” doctor Hiddleston replied and looked at you with those sympathetic blue eyes. You felt seen when he looked at you and heard when you spoke to him. “Right now, you’re clinically depressed. And it’s not in any way your fault,” he assured you. “You didn’t choose to feel like this. It just happened. And it’s not just the way life is supposed to be like. Sure, you can have periods when you feel kind of good and periods when you feel kind of bad. But not to this extent. Severe depression and severe anxiety is not just the way life is. There’s an imbalance that we need to try to even out. Are you with me on that?”

You nodded at him in response. Tears formed in your eyes as you took in his important words. This was not your fault and this was not just the way life is. Things could change for the better and your doctor seemed determined to make sure that they would.

Previous Chapter

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough.

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly.

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered.

“I like this one,” you said.

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…”

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed.

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head.

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut.

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #Dark Fic #dark!fic #reader x oc husband #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

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mugunghwc · 2 years ago

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ji-eun could only snort at that response, thinking of it as something extremely cheesy for him to say, yet it was something that he could relate to a degree. his morbid fascination with death had followed him throughout all of his life, showing up even in his childhood by poking at the animals that he found. now, it was him the one causing those deaths out of boredom—disregarding life as if it held no meaning to him. he wondered if kaizen was the same in that regard.

just as he'd come to expect, even for a foreign, the scenery would become quite dull after a while, with tall building after another. unless they were specifically following their target around, there would be not much to see & chances were anyway, that just like most businessmen, their future victim would visit a more lively environment after a long day. ji-eun smirked upon hearing the other speak about japanese girls, giving him a glance before trying to imagine him in a hostess club. he didn't appear like the type who would fare well socialising, but who knows? maybe it was different with women. a part of him was curious to see. "my boss deal with those all the time." he commented without giving it too much thought—just recalling from the very few times he had witnessed a fight on the ring. they went wild when it came to watching their favourite hosts spill blood for their entertainment. it was no wonder that stardust had become so popular. women could be just as perverted as men.

"i wouldn't call my girl that type of cute." back to that again, ji-eun had to smirk upon thinking back on her. she was ' cute ', but far from the conventional type. more of the ' i will stab you if you wrong me ' kind of cute, which worked for him. too bad that that would apply to him, after the stunt he pulled. he had no right to call her ' my girl ' when she was never his, but that tattoo behind her ear alluded to something else. he'd not get lost in that memory & shake his head as he changed directions, driving into a more familiar scene. unfortunately, it wasn't as appealing as it would be at nighttime, but perhaps, they could kill some time. ji-eun had to chuckle over how casual this man spoke. "hunting is good." he began by saying, offering a shrug of his shoulders. "the extortion can be fun too... just toying around with someone, even from afar." he personally enjoyed that as well. sometimes, even more-so than the torture itself, because it could end far too quick. "although... there's more at risk." for example, that particular incident with said girl he had spoken about. all of his plan had gone to shit with her father didn't respond the way they needed him to, making the whole kidnapping pointless. since then, he had stayed away from those kinds of jobs. "all this talk is making me nostalgic." ji-eun added. his voice vacant of any real sorrowfulness as he waved a hand dismissively. "how do you feel 'bout maid cafés? have you ever visited one?"

Dutiful was truly an euphemism when it came to Kaizen. He was focused because he felt excited; he had always loved the hunt, and the promise of dark events and other funsies was his ideal. He felt utterly thrilled by the mission, and he wanted to be ready. He wanted to know how his prey would move within the city, where to find him, where to surprise him. He was an everlasting large shadow looming over his victims, and he had no intentions to change his methods when they had been so efficient in the past. He glanced at Ji-Eun with the ghost of a smirk and gave a nod. “I love giving death.” He explained to somehow justify his seriousness on the matter. A will to prove that he was worth the ride too. “Too bad. Like ya’ as a tour guide.”

As they were really closer to downtown and the business center of Tokyo, he noted down a few streets that seemed far less crowded, and anticipated that it would be the case at night. People here were utterly dedicated to their jobs; they were only looking either at their phones or at the buildings ahead and they were all in a rush. The business corner wouldn’t probably be a good location then; either they would cover their tracks and disappear in the crowd, or they might provoke a large panic. “Mmmh. Heard Japanese girls like it.” He looked back at Ji-Eun and tapped the windows. That part of the city wouldn’t be a good playground, so he wasn’t paying much attention anymore. “The whole cute play. Giggling and all.” He turned up the volume of the music and hummed for a second.

“So, what type?” Kaizen was curious as he felt there was more to say, but Ji-Eun wasn’t talking much about his job and targets. He had a feeling that he could be more passionate about torture rather than killing, but he might have had other missions that he prefered to keep for himself. “I like it bloody. Hunting though, best part. My jam, all the time.” He spilled before he eventually nodded at another street. “S’getting boring. Where’s the red district?” He just wanted to have a look before eating something.

#distopea #.ic / way too many people tryna take the crown — npc #verse 01. theory of beauty / main #they shouldn't be allowed at any club or cafe tbh

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nicknellie · 3 years ago

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@fireflyingaway requested: willex + waffle house pretty plz

So I did have to do “extensive research” on Waffle House because I don’t have one near me and have never been to one, and that led me to find an incredibly good dessert place literally a ten minute drive from me so thank you for that lmfao. But anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this, I went with getting together (kind of) fluff because that’s my jam, so I really hope you enjoy it!

Smooth Like Syrup

Somewhere along the way, Waffle House had become Alex’s favourite restaurant. He wondered if it was the childhood memories it brought back, weekend brunches spent there with his grandparents who cared for him and loved him far more than his parents ever had. It could have just been the fact that he loved waffles, and with a name like ‘Waffle House’ they couldn’t really put a foot wrong when it came to serving him. Maybe it was just the familiarity of it all – Alex had always found comfort in routine, after all. Whatever the reason he loved it there so much, Alex went to Waffle House at least once a week, more if he had the time. And it was absolutely nothing to do with the adorable new waiter who had started working there for the summer.

If anything, he was ruining it all.

Because he’d been going to the same Waffle House every week for as long as he could remember, Alex was pretty friendly with most of the staff. A few of them had been working there as long as he’d been a customer, so they were on first-name terms and always took a moment or two to catch up with each other once Alex had ordered his food (which never took long because he always ordered the same thing and they all knew that by now). Seeing the same people working there and having the same generic chitchat with them each week worked perfectly for Alex. It was normal, routine, familiar, a social situation he knew how to navigate.

Then they’d gone and hired Willie. It shouldn’t have been a problem, but it was. A problem for Alex at the very least. Not only did it disrupt his routine and catch him unawares the first time he’d walked into the restaurant to see a new waiter, but the waiter had to look like that. Willie was all dazzling smiles and sharp cheekbones and luscious long hair and it was, quite simply, unfair. Alex came to Waffle House to eat, not get flustered over some ridiculously good-looking boy.

For a few weeks, Alex had taken the admittedly immature approach to just avoid Waffle House altogether. Out of sight, out of mind. The only reason it hadn’t lasted long was because he missed the waffles, and he couldn’t find anything to fill that extra hour and a half of his Saturday. So after not visiting for two weeks, Alex returned to Waffle House and resumed his routine, still flustered by stupidly attractive Willie, but most definitely working on a way to stop it being a problem.

His next plan of action had been simply trying to avoid Willie which was foiled the moment he sat down in his usual booth one Saturday afternoon. He had been hoping that his usual server would spot him and come over for a chat, but as luck would have it, Willie got to his table first.

“Welcome to Waffle House,” he had said, beaming down at Alex, who tried to act as if the sudden appearance hadn’t scared the life out of him. He wasn’t sure how well he pulled it off, but Willie had made no comment. “My name is Willie, I’ll be your server today. What can I get you started with?”

Two things had thrown Alex then. Firstly, it had been the first time he’d heard Willie’s name. It was strange to be able to put a name to the face of an angel and he was certain he would never have guessed ‘Willie’ if he’d been given a million tries. Secondly, the fact that Willie didn’t automatically know his order bewildered him. He was so used to the waiters coming over, confirming he wanted the usual, and slipping into easy conversation. This was new and unexpected, and if there was anything Alex hated it was new and unexpected things.

As such, his mind went blank and he completely forgot what he usually ordered. A plain waffle and a diet coke shouldn’t have been easy to forget, it wasn’t anything fancy, and yet Alex made it work.

“Um,” he’d said dumbly, looking up at Willie’s expectant face with his mouth bobbing open and closed like a mildly distressed fish. He could feel his cheeks heating in a blush and looked away as Willie raised a concerned eyebrow.

“Do you need a minute to decide?” Willie had asked sceptically.

Alex had shaken his head vigorously, aware that probably made him look as frantically flustered as he felt and was trying to hide, which only made him more flustered. He took several shallow but slow breaths before forcing words out of his mouth because that was how conversations worked and he refused to lose the ability to speak over this boy.

“No, no, I know what I want,” he had said eventually. “Just a plain waffle and a diet coke, thank you.”

“Is that everything?” Willie had asked, jotting the order down on his notepad.

Not trusting himself to speak any more than that, Alex just nodded. Willie had shot him a bright smile and disappeared off to get his order prepared. The moment he was certain Willie couldn’t see him anymore, Alex’s head flopped onto the table and he let out a long, exhausted, frustrated groan. He felt like an utter mess.

For the rest of that visit, he’d kept it together by simply not talking to Willie unless it was absolutely necessary. Had he been a more confident person he might have found a better way to handle it, but Alex had been cursed with social awkwardness from the moment he’d been old enough to socialise and it wasn’t suddenly going to fix itself just do he didn’t make a fool of himself in front of Willie.

As time went on, things got simultaneously worse and better between Alex and Willie, enough that Alex both dreaded and looked forward to his weekly Waffle House trips. For one thing, he and Willie had got to know each other a bit better – Willie could anticipate Alex’s order now, Alex could just about talk without tripping over his words or saying something slightly embarrassing (which always felt to Alex like something utterly mortifying and worth overthinking because his brain hated him), and if both of them were in the right state of mind they could manage a very brief chat.

But on the flip side, Alex hated Waffle House now and it was Willie who had ruined it for him. Not for any sane reason like being a bad waiter (because he was actually a very good waiter, which Alex thought had something to do with the fact that he always wore Heelys so he could glide across the restaurant which was much faster than walking). No, Willie had ruined Waffle House for Alex because now he couldn’t go in there and see Willie without getting butterflies in his stomach and a giddy grin on his face.

Now that he knew Willie better, it wasn’t just his beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous smile that Alex liked about him. He was talkative, he was funny, he was sweet. He was extremely considerate – when Alex came in one day, Willie met him at the door, walked him to his usual table, told him they’d run out of diet coke and that he had just popped to the store and bought some just for Alex, knowing he would order it. And he laughed at Alex’s terrible attempts at humour, he drizzled the syrup onto Alex’s waffles in the shape of smiley faces, he made sure Alex’s usual booth was always free of people for when he came in. Everything about Willie made Alex’s heart beat too fast and his breath catch and it was starting to make going to Waffle House a very stressful experience.

So Willie was the reason that Alex loved going there and was also desperate to find somewhere else.

But Alex, despite his many worries about life, wasn’t the kind of person to give up on something just because someone else made it difficult. Sure, that rule had usually applied to very different situations, and he actually liked Willie so it wasn’t as if seeing him was a bad thing, but it helped Alex to remember that he’d always powered through things like this and that was what kept him going to the restaurant.

One day, he arrived to Waffle House later than normal. He had come straight from band practise which had gone on longer than normal because they’d spent the first forty-five minutes arguing about the dangers of fiddling with electrical equipment in the rain and decided to make up that time at the end. As such, Alex arrived almost twenty minutes after he normally would have left.

He didn’t spot Willie immediately as he came in and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Nowadays, Willie nearly always greeted him at the door, knowing exactly what time he arrived. He supposed Willie had long ago given up waiting for him to get there – he had a job to get on with, after all. Alex tried not to feel too sad about it as he made his way over to his usual booth; Willie was a waiter, not a friend, not anything else, and Alex shouldn’t have expected him to wait forever or be there whenever he wanted.

But when Alex came to his usual seat, he was surprised to see someone already sat there. Even more so when he noticed that person was Willie.

Willie looked up as he approached, expression changing from bored to delighted in a second flat. The grin on his face was more than enough to snap Alex out of his sudden bad mood, lifting his spirits and bringing a smile to his face in an instant.

“Alex!” Willie greeted. “You’re here! I thought something had happened to you, man, you had me worried.”

Alex laughed and sat down opposite him, trying to keep his eyes wandering so he didn’t end up just staring at Willie. “Nah, I’m alright. Band practice ran over, is all.”

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” Willie said with a small smile. “But if it happens again can you text me to let me know you’ll be late? Just so I know I don’t need to worry about you and I can still keep your table free.”

“Sure, but I don’t have your number,” Alex said, ignoring the persistent fluttering of his heart and the alarms blaring in his head. It seemed as if his mind had pressed its panic button at something Willie had said but Alex was too distracted to figure out what.

“That’s easily fixed,” Willie replied. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and slid it across the table to Alex. “If you put your number in there I’ll text you so you can save mine.”

Heart hammering, cheeks hot, and smile so wide it hurt, Alex nodded and entered his contact information into Willie’s phone. He tried to act nonchalant as he slid it back across the table afterwards, but in his flustered state his aim was off – he pushed too hard and it fell over the edge of the table, right into Willie’s lap. That was one of those slightly embarrassing moments that Alex’s subconscious would likely rub mockingly in his face for days to come and he couldn’t help but wince at the thought.

“Thanks, man,” Willie said, beaming. “It’s just for peace of mind, you know. I really like you and when you didn’t show up earlier I just… well, I wondered where you were.”

Willie wasn’t meeting his eye all of a sudden. In fact, he apparently found the table top very interesting because he was staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. Alex knew the signs well enough to guess how Willie was feeling then – nervous. But what did Willie ever have to be nervous about?

“Hey,” Alex said gently, lowering his voice in an attempt to calm Willie’s nerves. He leant over the table a little though so that he could still be heard. “I’m here, aren’t I? Nothing bad actually happened. You don’t need to worry about me, Willie. I promise.”

A small, bittersweet smile fluttered across Willie’s face. “Yeah. You’re here.”

The short silence then felt charged, electric, fierce. Why, Alex had no idea.

But Willie broke it, his usual bright smile back on his face as he said, “I hope you don’t mind me eating with you, by the way. I’m on my lunch break and I’d kept this table empty for you anyway so I thought I might as well sit here.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine by me,” Alex insisted. It was a half-truth. Was he happy to have longer to chat with Willie than normal, eat together as if they were friends rather than just a waiter and a customer? Yes. But did this feel too much like a date for Alex’s anxiety to handle, even though it was very clearly not a date? Also yes. He half wanted to ask Willie to sit somewhere else, but that would have been unthinkably rude, so he settled for trying not to be awkward.

Not long later, another server came and brought their food out. For a moment Alex thought it was weird because nobody had even come to take his order, then he remembered that everyone who worked at Waffle House knew what he got so it would have just wasted time if they’d asked. The two of them ate in silence for a while, Willie enjoying his break and Alex enjoying the first food he’d eaten all day.

Their conversation started up again when they were about halfway into their meals. Willie asked about Alex’s band practise, how things were going, what they had lined up. Alex was more than happy to talk about Julie and the Phantoms for hours on end and the way Willie engaged with his waffling on so enthusiastically only fuelled that fire. But in return, Alex made sure to ask how Willie was, how he was getting on preparing to start college, whether he’d had enough free time to skate lately.

It was weird, he thought, that this was their first proper conversation and yet they already knew so much about each other’s lives that it flowed as easily as it would have if Alex had been talking to one of his closest friends. Perhaps he and Willie were closer than he had realised.

He only stayed until Willie’s break ended, which was painfully short. They said their goodbyes, Alex jokingly promised he’d be on time next time, Willie laughed that beautiful laugh of his as he took their plates away, and Alex left the restaurant. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling in his mind, still wondering what had panicked him at the start of their conversation.

It hit him as he was crossing a road, stopping him dead in his tracks and causing an irritated driver to beep his horn at him: Willie had been worried about him.

It felt so much more personal than it should have. If Willie worried, it meant he cared, and if Willie cared then it could have meant any number of things. It could have meant that when he looked at Alex he felt the same featherlight giddiness that Alex did when he saw Willie. It could have meant that Willie spent his days wishing Alex was more than just a regular customer. It could have meant that when Willie asked for his phone number he was actually asking for more than that.

Alex had no idea what inspired him to do it, what unusual burst of courage gave him the ability to go through with it, but a moment later he had whipped his phone out and opened Willie’s contact. There was only one message between them, the one Willie had sent so Alex could save his information, but Alex quickly typed out another and hit send before he had time to regret it.

I know you said I only needed to text you if I was going to be late, but I figured I could text you about other stuff too. Like the fact I’m free next Friday if you want to hang out.

Something like that ordinarily would have stressed him out but he didn’t have the time for that because Willie’s response was almost immediate.

Sure! I hear Waffle House is pretty great, how about we go there?

Alex laughed at how dorky and cute Willie was even over text and replied quickly with: It’s a date.

Willie replied with three emojis – a smiley face, a heart, and a waffle. Even just from that, Alex knew Willie had understood him and that next Friday they would be going on an actual date together. He didn’t care whether it was actually at Waffle House or they tried somewhere completely new; as long as he was with Willie, nothing else mattered.

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luvnami · 4 years ago

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𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 | 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 (here) | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 - Second part to ‘Ocean’! Hope you enjoy it :> Reblogs, comments, shares and likes are really appreciated!!

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @getousuguruwife @amjustagirl @aliteama

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Amnesia, Memory loss, Blood, Mild gore, Death, Blood loss, Corpses, Food, Manga spoilers, Pre-canon and canon compliant to a certain extent, Nightmares, Relationship Issues (lack of communication), Overthinking/Anxious Thoughts, I criticise Nanami’s choice of clothing

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Nanami Kento's life has been... Good, bad, and everything in between. He (and many others) thinks he's mature, independent, the definition of what a proper adult should be like. But really, the only way he's made it this far is because you've been holding his hand the entire time.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5k

Nanami decides to enter university and get a degree. He casts a life of sorcery behind and turns a blind eye to curses that peer at him curiously on the street. When you text him and ask about how life is in the city of Tokyo, he replies that it would be much better if you were here with him. You choose to ignore the meaning between the lines and tell him that he’ll do great in university; you’re sure of it!

Truth be told, his parents are more than glad to fund Nanami’s ventures and encourage him to do so. As a result, he finds himself engulfed by the world of rigorous studying. Lectures and tutorials drain his time from morning to evening, not to forget project meetings and whatever the hell ‘socialising’ means.

But campus life is invigorating. He wakes up to the smell of coffee and his roommate singing a foreign song with a catchy tune and has time to enjoy a lovely breakfast before he heads off for morning classes. Everything is done in his own time. No one rushes him to save the lives of innocent civilians, nor does the weariness of a day’s fight linger in his bones.

Quietly, gently. That is how Nanami’s time in university goes by. Writing essays on analysing market trends or a project on that sociology elective module he chose is nothing too tricky, especially when one compares it to sorcery.

He learns to relax, unwinding in the golden hours of the evening with a Murakami paperback and a steaming cup of coffee by his side. Nanami meets new people — people who have never heard what a curse is (though he does find his witchy neighbour intriguing), people who have families at the furthest ends of the earth. Their companionship is refreshing.

You, meanwhile, earn a nice sum from working at Jujutsu Tech. You don’t work directly with curses (something which Nanami is thankful for) and enjoy your time surrounded by nature, treating the younger students with a smile and warm cup of tea.

You and Nanami decide to move into an apartment where the commute is halfway between both schools. It’s a nice change of pace, really. You wake up next to each other in the blinding morning light, still entangled in the cheap (and slightly scratchy) duvet you got on sale. Nanami presses a kiss between your brows. You smile, your hand warm on his skin.

“Good morning, Ken,” you croak as the sunlight frames your face.

You lean forward and place your head against his chest. Nanami’s hand strokes your shoulder lovingly as the both of you make small talk on the day’s events, then laughing when he makes a cheesy (and slightly indecent) joke about what he enjoys eating for breakfast. Your heart soars in your chest, catching the upwind and slicing through the clouds. It feels like heaven.

But the sea does not always remain calm and peaceful. Its tides rise and fall with the waxing and waning of the moon, and waves can come crashing down on boats that dare sail through its treacherous waters.

Nanami buries the constant nightmares of Haibara under his pillow, waking up in the middle of the night with your arms around his waist. He pretends he does not see the curses that linger in the corner of his lecture theatre, nor the ones that stare back in the bathrooms. Nanami slips a pair of spectacles onto the bridge of his nose. His fellow classmates call him intelligent, quiet, but kind.

He wants to believe that, too.

☆*: .｡.

Nanami joins a hedge fund company after graduation.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Ken?” you ask over the table.

The restaurant you had booked for dinner boasts of its month-long waitlists and seasonal menus. You poke at the raw fish that sits on your plate, Nanami holding a glass of amber liquid. He watches its colour swirl under the dim light.

“The pay is good. We’ll be comfortable.”

“I don’t care about money, Ken. I’d rather you do something less stressful and be happier.”

“Let me try it out for a year or so. That can’t hurt, right?”

He smiles, you smile.

Your hand slips into his comfortably over the table, and your eyes meet in silent understanding. You squeeze his hand.

The company changes Nanami. Some things are obvious — the way he now parts and combs his hair back with wax, the pressed suits that line your shared wardrobe, the work phone that buzzes with notifications every minute of the day. Others are more… subtle. He comes home later and later each night, occasionally staying over in the office. His alcohol consumption increases. You spend the weekends alone.

It’s gotten to the point where you’re lucky if you eat dinner with him once a week. You’re busy with your own work, too, but you assume that Nanami would be able to come home on at least the weekends. Your mind begins to drift.

Is there a colleague who wears a skirt too short, a manager who touches his shoulder a second too long? It’s been at least four years since you and Nanami had gotten together, and you still don’t know his stance on marriage or children yet. Does he love you, or does he love his job more?

You fall into a pit of doubt and despair. Perhaps you should have been a lesser burden on Nanami. He spent so many hours taking care of you back then, wearing himself thin between missions, that the idea of him getting tired of being a caregiver to someone who didn’t remember him at all was… possible; reality, even?

There’s nothing original about you, either. Your handwriting is the same as a girl you’ll never remember from middle school, the way you text influenced by the students you work with. Maybe you laugh too loud. Or you’re too fat, too skinny, too quiet, too noisy, too blunt, too shy, too clumsy. So what made him love you? Or was he just in love with a previous version of you that you weren’t now?

It feels like you’re staring into a mirror when you try to remember who you used to be with childhood journals and photographs. The same face, the same body, memories that don’t make sense and a head that has become a blank canvas. A parent’s child, a teacher’s student. Unable to reach past the glass.

You don’t know who you are anymore with how you’ve changed to please Nanami — a person of personalities that switches in the blink of an eye. So why does he still keep you in his rented heart that’s full of other tenants, and under the contact name ‘Dear ♡’? You place the button in a drawer amongst a mess of spare keys, bits of tissue paper and promotional pamphlets.

It’s tiring. Nanami’s head is in the clouds as you share a parfait, and you ask him, “Kento, do you really love me?”.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Of course I do.”

The eyebags that are on his face have been there since two weeks ago. Nanami can’t remember when the last time was when he got a proper night of sleep, and currently, he’s thinking about the new client that-

“Kento,” you interrupt. “You’re exhausted.”

You point your spoon at him for extra emphasis, the tip of it having a dollop of whipped cream.

“Pointing your utensils around is bad manners.”

“Never knew you cared about table manners.”

“Well, now I do.”

You lick the spoon clean and eye Nanami. He returns a tired stare before his gaze falls to the side and he lets out a sigh. He almost wishes that you would stop bothering him about this and let him go back home. There are so many emails he needs to send, and he can’t sit still without checking the stock market every hour or so.

“Do you want to break up?”

The words come easier than expected.

“Huh?! What makes you say that?”

“You seem like you want to.”

“You can’t just assume things like-”

The girls sitting by the next table fall quiet. Nanami thinks that they’re eavesdropping on your conversation; you think so too. You glance quickly at them and they pretend nothing had ever happened, hiding their looks of surprise as they shove spoonfuls of dessert into their mouths.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

You sound irritated. Nanami pays with his card, grabbing his things as you step outside of the cafe first.

“Slow down,” he mumbles and pockets his wallet.

You whip around.

“You can’t just assume things like that, Kento.”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

Staring at him, your eyes seem glazed over. Tired, maybe. Tearing up, maybe. Maybe, maybe. Many maybes. Nanami doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what’s been going on with you, actually. You seem distant, out of reach when you’re lying in the same bed as him. Is it the money; is he making enough to make you happy?

Nanami reaches out and tries to hold your hand (when was the last time he had done that?) when his phone buzzes. He retracts his hand and reaches for his back pocket, but you grab his wrist. He looks at you.

“What are you doing? Let go.”

Irritation laces his voice.

“Don’t answer that.”

“Are you crazy? It’s from work. I have to.”

“Work this, work that! You spent the last year basically married to your office and the one time we get to go out together, you want to work?”

Your voice is sharp, slicing Nanami’s hazy conscience. He watches as it pools at his feet, a gust of fresh air tickling his skin. He relaxes his wrist and you pull your hand away. Passersby glance at you briefly before continuing their daily commute, not bothering to give you a second glance.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s okay,” Nanami replies.

The both of you stand in the street, suddenly feeling as if you’ve drifted away from one other unknowingly. Like a boat in the ocean, Nanami rocks with the waves that splash gently on his hull. Everything is blue and vast around him. He can’t see the land.

Nanami thinks about that girl at the bakery. The way she always cried out ‘Come back soon!’ every time he left as if he wouldn’t return a second time. And then he thinks about the clients he serves, all outfits and jewellery that easily cost half his salary. They shove money into his hands, expecting even more in return without a word of thanks.

“Hey,” Nanami says.

He reaches out across the waters and grasps your hand in his. You look up, eyes brimming with tears. He swipes at the corner of your eye with his thumb. Understanding washes over him and he takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Nanami whispers sincerely.

That night, he calls Gojo when you’re safely tucked into bed. Nanami tries to ignore how the older sorcerer cackles at him and hangs up once the call is presumably over on his end. He slips under the covers as you turn over in your sleep, resting against his chest. Nanami kisses your brow.

He gets his first night of good sleep in a long, long time.

☆*: .｡.

Nanami falls back into the rhythm of sorcery. He trains for a good month until he gets his stamina and strength back, obtaining a new weapon from the school for his missions. Gojo seems oddly delighted to see him return, laughing when Nanami’s out of breath from a workout.

“Ken,” you say, wrinkling your nose when he steps out of your shared bedroom. “You’re going to work in that?”

Nanami adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, staring at you.

“Is this not appropriate?”

You observe him from head to toe. The leopard print tie, blue shirt and tan suit — you resist the urge to tell him he’s so close to looking like a pimp. Out of all the lovely suits that Nanami has, he chooses to wear this one?

“It’s a bit bright, that’s all,” you laugh.

“I thought I would go with something eccentric. You don’t get to wear this at the office,” he remarks, striding over to the kitchen to grab your packed lunches.

You remain quiet and fiddle with a loose thread on your own suit jacket.

“Something the matter?”

“Oh! Nothing at all. Let’s go.”

It’s more convenient now since the both of you work at the same place. Nanami drives to Jujutsu Tech every morning and picks you up in the evenings as well. He detests how Gojo makes fun of him for it, calling him a ‘lovely husband’. It makes your cheeks warm, and you duck your head before Nanami can ask you anything about it.

Peace reigns true for a few months. The morning routine is a nice change of pace compared to Nanami’s previous job. You’re able to spend more time together, even to the point of going grocery shopping or watching a movie with takeout on Friday nights.

Nanami relaxes only a little. Compared to office work, this is probably just as bad. First of all, he has to see Gojo almost every day and have him talk his ear off. Secondly, he returns to being the balance between life and death for civilians once more. It’s not a task he enjoys. However, he harbours that the thanks he receives and the lives he saves are a good enough exchange.

Years come and go, as do students of Jujutsu Tech. Nanami sees more dead sorcerers and exorcises more curses. You quietly type away at a laptop, filing their deaths and completing any tasks you’re given from the higher-ups. It seems that life has slowed down once more and you return to a monotonous pace.

You wonder if your relationship with Nanami will progress any further. It’s been close to nine years and yet… nothing has developed beyond living together or the odd weekend date. That’s not to say that you don’t love Nanami. You do, honestly. He treats you well and listens to your occasional nagging to put his stacks of books away, but you want something more. You crave the thought of getting married, to be lawfully his and maybe start a family. But, contrary to belief, Nanami isn’t opposed to it when you bring the topic up over dinner one night.

“Marriage?”

His chopsticks pick off a portion of grilled salmon and he brings it to his mouth with some rice. He chews, swallowing.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been together for so long, you know? So it kind of seems natural for us to do so.”

Your gut twists nervously. The steam from your miso soup rises silently in the air, wisps of white smeared out at the edges.

“Sure.”

“Huh?”

“Sure, let’s get married.” Nanami says.

You have to physically close your mouth and your eyes are widened in shock. Your heartbeat accelerates that much faster.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, were you serious when you asked me that question?”

Heat rises to your face.

“As you said, we’ve been together and living under the same roof for quite some time. Marriage seems like a plausible idea.”

“Then let’s-!”

“But I have one condition.”

Momentarily, your heart wavers. Nanami finishes the last drop of miso soup in his bowl and balances his chopsticks on top of the porcelain. As usual, his plate and bowls are scraped clean.

“I’ll only get married after I stop being a sorcerer.”

Your face twists in confusion as you try to understand where Nanami is coming from. You don’t get it — didn’t being a sorcerer mean that Nanami faced death everyday and that he should be taking advantage of what time he has left? But, of course, you don’t mean to curse him into an early grave like that. Except… Except that your face visibly falls and Nanami takes notice of it.

“I’d rather not have my life entangled with curses more than it should be. Once we both earn enough money and have a nice savings account, we can retire and go do whatever we want. Besides, I’ll invest. It’ll be more than enough.”

You remain silent and stare at your half-finished dinner. Nanami reaches over the table and takes your hand in his.

“Can you give me some more time, please?”

You don’t reply.

☆*: .｡.

“Did you hear about the new first years?”

“Mm. The one who died, right?”

“Gojo wants me to mentor him for a while.”

Nanami’s hands are positioned on the steering perfectly. His palms guide the car carefully through the steep roads that climb up to Jujutsu Tech. You flip through a checklist of things you need to do for the day.

“Will you be heading out of school?”

“Probably. There’s a scene I need to check out.”

“Stay safe, alright?”

“Of course. You too, don’t forget to have your lunch again.”

Nanami pulls into the parking lot of the school. Leaning over the clutch, he presses a kiss to your hairline. You gently peck his jaw.

“See you tonight. I might not be able to pick you up, so get Nitta to drive you.”

“See you, Ken.”

Nanami watches as you open the car door and step out. You turn back, giving him a wave and smile through the window. He returns the gesture. Once you’re out of sight, Nanami pulls out his phone as he sits in the car. He thumbs through his emails and his Adam’s apple bobs as soon as he sees the confirmation sent to him. A loose sigh worms its way out of his chest. He pushes the door open and steps out.

The rest of the day is spent teaching Itadori Yuuji about the sanctity of being young and simpleminded. Sorcery isn’t child’s play — especially when there are lives involved. He watches as Itadori’s face crumbles at the mention of the transfigured humans. He wants to comfort him, place a hand on his shoulder and tell him that it isn’t his fault.

They have a quick debrief of the situation with Ijichi before parting ways. Nanami shoulders his burden once more, watching as the car pulls away in the direction of Yoshino’s home.

As night falls, Nitta drives you home. She’s chatty, serious about her job and does it well. You smile when she gushes about how lovely Nanami must be at home, and, oh! Do tell him to lighten up at work.

You thank her when she drops you off. As you walk through the lobby of your apartment complex, you make a routine stop by the mailboxes. Junk, bills and… a box? You flip it over to see who it’s addressed to; perhaps Nanami had ordered something online. However, your name is printed neatly across the label.

The first thing you do when you get home is to open the box. It’s small, probably not more than a hand’s breadth in length. Your pen knife slices through the tape cleanly and when you push aside the flaps, you spot two velvet boxes sitting in a mess of paper filler. Your fingers tremble when you pull one of them out and open it.

A silver ring sits in the furrow of a cushion with Nanami’s name on the inside. Your heart skips a beat and you reach into the cardboard to pull out the second ring box. This one is a little larger, with your name engraved on the interior side of the band. It must be Nanami’s, then.

It’s already well past 6p.m. as you dial his number with your lower lip between your teeth. You pace around the house, bouncing on the balls of your feet. What were these meant to be? Promise rings? Engagement rings? You hadn’t dared to slip the one with Nanami’s name engraved onto your finger just yet.

“Hello?”

Nanami’s breathing is laboured. Your heart falls and you stop in the middle of your living room, staring ahead at nothing.

“Ken? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just… just a little hurt. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve called Ijichi to pick me up, don’t-”

“So it is serious, then!” you cry out in horror.

“No, no. I said I’m fine. Look, did you receive the rings yet?”

“I did, but that’s not the point now. Are you safe?”

“I-”

You hear Nanami’s phone clatter to the ground and the thump of his body on the floor.

“Kento?” you whisper.

He doesn’t reply.

☆*: .｡.

You’re seated on the floor of your shared home, an oversized pajama shirt stolen from Nanami’s closet swallowing you. Sunlight pours in through an open window at two in the afternoon and the quiet hum of vehicles outside can be vaguely heard.

Clip, clip, clip.

One hand holds a nail clipper, while the other cradles Nanami’s fingers gently. The blond watches you absentmindedly while you trim his nails. He had insisted he was perfectly capable of doing them on his own, but the glare you gave him made Nanami sink back into the sofa.

He was hurt after a fight with Mahito — the wound on his side made him grimace whenever he stood up, and Nanami found himself relying on you more than he wished to. Thankfully, he had passed out from blood loss and pain but nothing too devastating had happened. That didn’t change how concerned you were about him, though. You try to forget how you had hailed a taxi just to rush back to Jujutsu Tech to see Nanami lying in the sickbay with a blood drenched shirt.

Nanami thinks it’s childish. When was the last time someone had clipped his nails for him? Was it his mother? A warm breeze wrings itself through the window. You run the pad of your finger over the cut edge, feeling for any sharp portions.

Nanami stares at the top of your head. Your fingers feel uncharacteristically soft against his own calloused ones — wielding a weapon in battle wore his palms down at the end of the day. He doesn’t particularly want to admit he likes it.

Nanami is a man of truth. He hates lying, and definitely doesn’t tolerate beating around the bush. But if he spoke as he thought, told you everything he felt about you as often as it came like the wind, how would you react? He clutches his heart in the aching hand of a budding teenager, the fears of facing a cruel world fresh in his mind.

Being a sorcerer means facing death on a daily basis, especially with the increase in curses with modern times. It doesn’t help that with both of you on the field, it means double the chances. Sorcerers never die without regrets.

Nanami wishes he could love you more, let you explore each crevice of his heart without fear of leaving you; being left behind one day. He doesn’t want to curse you if he dies. He doesn’t want to become a burden to you any more than he should be.

Clip, clip, clip.

“Is it too short?”

You glance up briefly at Nanami and brush the hair out of your eyes. He stares down at his fingers and feels them over with his thumb. He shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.”

You nod and move on to his next hand. You’re systematical about it — trimming off most of the grown parts in three portions, then a couple tinier clips to finish the job off. A nail file sits on the ground beside you, the tiles of the floor cool against your bare legs.

“Hey, Ken?”

“Hmm?”

“I heard that there’s a new bakery opposite that popular department store. I was thinking of going to take a look later. Do you want me to get anything for you?”

“Nothing too sweet would be nice.”

“Okay.”

The living room falls back into a comfortable silence.

Clip, clip, clip.

☆*: .｡.

It takes a few more weeks before Nanami is cleared by Ieri to return to regular sorcery work. He tries to rest in the downtime he has, he really does — but the itch to get up and finish Mahito off has him restless.

At this, Gojo sends Nanami and you off to Hamamatsu on another curse investigation for a change of scenery. Gojo doesn’t want to admit it, but he had mumbled to you something about taking care of Nanami’s mental health. Maybe the beach would help? You told him he sounded like a doctor from the 20th century. You’re not one to refuse a free trip outside of Tokyo, though, so you and Nanami pack your luggage and troop off to Hamamatsu on the Shinkansen.

“Thank you.”

Nanami’s fingers curl around the ice cream cone handed to him, the sun scorching his back. It’s too hot for this; for anything, really. He makes a mental note to give Gojo a good stare of disapproval once he returns to school.

Why did the mission have to be on the warmest day of the year? With how the heatwave makes perspiration trickle down your back, though, the dangers of facing a possible special grade curse is the least of your worries right now.

“It’s so hot!”

You eagerly lap at the soft serve, savouring the cold, sweet treat. Nanami wanted to take a photo of the ice cream, but- oh well, you’ve begun eating, and the horrendous heat would have probably melted it before he found a good angle, anyways.

Protected by the shade of a shopping district, Nanami and you had agreed to find refuge for a few hours — the curse could wait till the sun began to set. Besides, it would be more likely to turn up after dark.

“How does yours taste, Ken?” you ask and peer over at his cone.

He had gotten a cookies and cream flavoured one, despite how you egged him on to try out the local eel flavour. Nanami was not going to ruin his taste buds just like that, thank you very much.

“It’s alright,” he says, licking traces of ice cream off of his lips. “Could do with a little more cookie.”

“Wanna try mine?”

You stick your cone into Nanami’s face. He’s greeted with your half-eaten soft serve, where your tongue has made a path of its own against the original swirl. He eyes you carefully and you offer the cone to him once more.

“That’s unhygienic.”

“Oh, come on, Ken! We’ve kissed before, sharing saliva on ice cream is nothing compared to that.”

Heat rushes to his face, though Nanami assumes a composed facade. He blames it on the weather without hesitation. Not wanting you to tease him anymore, he leans forward and nips a tiny portion of your ice cream off of the tip.

“Yummy, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.”

“Want to try mine too?”

The words leave his lips on reflex. Nanami wonders when he’s begun letting you try his food — when he used to be so adamant that no one could even touch its container or look in its direction (thanks to Gojo’s greedy fingers). You nod excitedly and lick off of a portion.

“It’s good!”

What was the first time he had said it to you? Over oden in the winter; over those disgustingly sweet slurpees you insisted on from 7 11? All those small moments that had built up culminated in Nanami’s affection and understanding towards you. The way in which you offer him a bite of your food without expecting anything in return; is that what love is like?

“You’ve got some ice cream on your face,” Nanami says.

You instinctively use your tongue and try to clean it off. “Did I get it?”

Nanami shakes his head. “It’s on this side,” he replies, pointing a spot on his own face.

You try again, to no avail. Nanami sighs.

“What would you do without me?” he asks monotonously, using the pad of his thumb to wipe it off.

You stand there, frozen for a second when he leans in. His promise ring is cold against your cheek.

“Kento?” you whisper.

Under the light of the shining sun, he presses his lips to yours, shielding you from warm rays and the glances of passersby with his back. You let out a muffled sound of surprise as you taste cookies and cream, your eyes fluttering shut instinctively.

Nanami isn’t a fan of public affection. God forbid Gojo see him kissing you, really. But as he leans back and watches your half-lidded eyes stare up at him, he asks himself if you’ve ever received his own sort of love in return.

A relationship’s all about give and take; but has he given as much as he should have? Has Nanami loved you in a way that matters? Life is a fleeting concept to all sorcerers. Should he die and leave you behind, Nanami wonders if he would pass without any regrets. Did he do enough when he tugged the covers over your shoulders when you fell asleep on the sofa, was there more he could have done even after buying you that watch you had eyeballed for the past few months?

There’s that sort of incompetence that curls up in his chest on sleepless nights, even with you tucked into his side. It makes his head spin and his heart fall into a bottomless pit. With all the eyes of juniors and students that look up to him, Nanami can’t help but wonder if he’s truly as good as everyone thinks he is. Being a sorcerer holds little problem. But what about a lover, a husband?

He couldn’t save Haibara, so how dare he think about…

“Kento,” you swallow. “Ken?”

Nanami snaps out of his daze. “Huh?”

“I dropped my ice cream,” you whisper.

He swivels his head and spots your cone face down on the sidewalk. His own cone drips down his hand, the melting liquid staining the sleeve of his suit. For once, Nanami’s mind runs blank.

“Kento? Are you okay?” you ask gently.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

“Mm?”

Nanami’s careful to avoid the pool of melting ice cream as he steps closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. Your breath hitches as his cologne invade your senses.

“I love you. Let’s get married.”

97 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Fall Of Rain

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Scott, John

Here is my contribution to @tagminibang! My artist was the absolutely fantastic @chenria and you can find her accompanying art over here. Something nice and family friendly from us here (please don’t mind the title, it has nothing to do with a certain musical song), and of course some good old Scott&John because who doesn’t love that?

John’s pulled one of his disappearing acts again, and Scott can’t relax until he knows where he’s gone.

People. There were people everywhere, all dressed to the nines and peacocking around. Nothing particularly unusual for an event hosted by Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, where no-one in attendance was worth less than at least ten million dollars apiece and appearing to be the poorest in the room would make you a target for the vampires of the elite.

It was a gauntlet Scott would have gladly accepted, not particularly bothered by how others perceived him and his wealth, except the problem with being a Tracy was that his status of multi-billionaireness was well known, and he was actually richer than most of the aristocracy in attendance, even if there were a few Old Money families that looked down their noses at the Tracys for being New Money.

Still, the buffer of their wealth was, at least, sparing his brother from being preyed upon as the poor, charity case invited to look good. Scott wasn’t sure who the actual poorest person in the room was, but anything to keep at least some of the pressure of the occasion off of John was always worth it.

It was a well known fact that John despised this sort of event. Too many people, too much noise and gravity, too many expected conversations and a lot of interest in the elusive Tracy. Scott still wasn’t sure why Lady Penelope insisted he attend these things, and knew that John was going to hide himself up on Thunderbird Five for at least a month and come down for absolutely nothing or no-one as soon as he escaped the party. She called it good for him, and a breath of fresh air, and Scott only let it slide because John never actually said no.

Speaking of his brother, he’d once again lost sight of the distinctive ginger hair amongst the vibrant colours of the event. Hopefully, that meant that John was just in hiding, rather than the chance he’d been dragged into a conversation out of Scott’s current sight. He glanced around the room again, just to be sure, and when no flash of ginger caught his eye, set his shoulders and beelined for their host.

Resplendent in a stunning light pink ballgown, elegant hands covered with equally elegant white gloves and hair coiffed into something gravity-defying yet somehow not at all outrageous, Lady Penelope was entertaining an elderly woman who Scott had been briefly introduced to earlier in the event, some hours ago, as the Duchess of Royston. As far as the British aristocrats seemed to go, she seemed quite amicable, so Scott had no qualms about stepping in as their conversation paused.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but have you seen John recently?”

“Have you lost him?” Lady Penelope asked, sounding the faintest bit amused. If it was anyone else, Scott would have been annoyed at that, but a longstanding friendship with the Lady told him there was no malice or judgement behind it. It was the amusement of someone who knew how much John hated crowds, and how much Scott could, according to his brothers, hover. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him recently.”

The answer wasn’t surprising, but it was a little disappointing.

“The redheaded young man?” the Duchess asked, and Scott turned to her. “I do believe I saw him heading for the doors earlier.” She gestured to the small side door that led out of the ballroom and, if Scott’s memory served, towards the gardens.

John was likely hiding, then.

Scott smiled at both women. “Thank you,” he said, inclining his head a little towards the older of the two. “I’ll leave you to your conversation. Sorry again for the interruption.”

“What a charming young man,” he heard as he walked away. “Penelope, I know it’s not my place to say, but you could do far worse than a man like that.”

Scott picked up the pace a little, determined to get out of earshot of whatever reply to that Lady Penelope would make, and making a note to never let Gordon know.

The rich like to talk to the rich, and although Scott was on a mission to find and check on his brother, he was waylaid by at least three other people all wanting to discuss all manner of things from International Rescue to, disconcertingly, his ongoing bachelorship before he was able to slip through the door and head down the corridor.

Soundproofing cut off the hubbub of conversation the moment the door clicked shut behind him, proving an excellent argument for why John would come this way, and Scott followed the hallway until he found a bay window that overlooked one of the many gardens in the Creighton-Ward estate.

John was perched on the window sill, although window seat was probably a more accurate term, looking out at the gentle rain falling from the sky. Raindrops raced each other down the panes of glass, and Scott silently settled next to him, waiting to be acknowledged.

It didn’t take long. “I’m fine,” his brother said quietly, still looking out the window rather than turning to face him. Scott hadn’t expected him to. “You can go back.”

Scott let out a wry chuckle. “The hot topic right now seems to be how eligible a bachelor I am,” he said, leaning forwards on his knees and watching his brother out of the corner of his eye. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d quite like to stay here until they move on to other things.”

His brother let out a hmm, sounding thoroughly amused at that, and Scott rolled his eyes. He knew full well that John was more than happy for him to be the target of that particular type of conversation, because it meant most of them would forget to ask him the same questions. Sibling solidarity only went so far, and perhaps even more so than the rest of his brothers, John was all too willing to throw him under the bus to evade the limelight himself.

“If they follow you here, I am leaving,” John threatened mildly. “And then you will not be welcome to follow me.” It wasn’t an empty threat, but that didn’t matter because Scott would always use himself as bait if it meant a brother could escape a bad situation. Besides, John knew Lady Penelope’s manor far better than he did, and Scott knew if John really wanted to hide, even he wouldn’t be able to find him until the ginger was ready to be found.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. John had never been a fan of social situations and had mastered the art of disappearing young. Scott had many memories of running around frantically, trying in vain to find where his brother had got to after taking his eye off of him for two seconds. For someone with such vibrant natural colouring, John was unfairly good at the vanishing act.

He sighed and settled back against the window pane more comfortably. At least John was old enough now to look after himself if he did vanish, and would always come home eventually - even if it was only a necessary stop on his way back to Thunderbird Five and the stars while he recuperated from socialising. It was a marked improvement from when he’d vanish as a child and leave everyone in a panic until he reappeared hours later.

Scott had never quite shaken the instinct to panic when he vanished, no matter how old and self-sufficient his brother was now.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” John said suddenly, and Scott glanced up at him again. He was still watching the rain out the window, seemingly disinterested in paying any attention to his older brother - aside from the comment, which made it perfectly clear that John was, in fact, keeping track of him with at least part of that big brain of his. “I told you I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” he assured him, feeling the cool of the glass seep towards his scalp from where he was resting his head against the window.

John gave a considering hum. “In that case, I’ll assume you’re working yourself into a panic unnecessarily.”

Scott huffed, unwilling to concede the point. “I am not working myself into a panic,” he retorted, a little defensively.

His brother finally turned his head away from the window slightly, enough for one turquoise eye to come into view. The accompanying ginger eyebrow rose in challenging disbelief and Scott scowled in response.

“I was just thinking about all the vanishing acts you tend to pull at things like this,” he admitted after a moment. The visible turquoise eye rolled at him before John turned back to face the window. He didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to; his body language broadcasted perfectly well that he thought Scott was being an idiot.

Scott was used to that attitude - none of his brothers ever seemed to fully appreciate what it was like to be their big brother, after all. Gordon might proudly claim that his grey hairs were all down to his fish of a brother, but the truth of the matter was that they’d all contributed.

Still, Scott wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

Raindrops raced down the large window, merging and lingering and swallowing smaller ones before darting several inches further down in a blink of an eye. It was a mesmerising sight; no wonder John was so captivated by the weather.

Then again, he didn’t get rain in space.

Scott was on his feet before his mind caught up. His movement caught John’s attention, judging by the way the single, turquoise eye reappeared to regard him once more.

“Going back already?” his brother asked. “I thought you were hiding from the discussions about your eligible bachelorship.” There was no sympathy at all in John’s voice, just an undercurrent of amusement. Scott suspected he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for a while.

“No,” he said truthfully, which was apparently unexpected enough for John to look away from the window completely.

“Then where are you going?” his brother asked. John was normally far too perceptive for Scott’s liking, and he probably shouldn’t be relishing catching him out as much as he was.

“Come on,” Scott invited in answer, tilting his head towards the window. “Let’s go.”

John glanced back towards the window, raising an eyebrow at the rain still falling. “You want to go outside?”

“Why not?” Scott shrugged. “No-one’s going to chase us out there.”

“Because their clothes would get ruined,” John pointed out. “Like ours will.”

Scott rolled his eyes. He wasn’t so attached to the suit he was currently wearing that he’d mourn the loss, and he knew John felt similarly about his own formal clothes.

“They’re replaceable,” he pointed out. “So, are you coming?”

John’s arguments didn’t fool him one bit - one thing his brother truly missed when he was amongst the stars was the cool sensation of rain on his skin, and Scott suspected that the only reason he’d been sat in the bay window instead of somewhere in the Creighton-Ward’s impressive grounds was because he’d known Scott would come looking for him sooner or later, and would have panicked if he couldn’t find him.

Sure enough, with one last sigh that was entirely put-upon, John extended his long legs and made his way to his feet. “Lead the way.”

Scott wasn’t as familiar with the manor as his brother, but he had a pretty good idea where most of the external doors were. John stayed at his shoulder as they passed through the hallways, bereft of any of the other guests, who were all no doubt still gossiping in the ballroom, and found a door that led outside.

The rain wasn’t a monsoon, but it was steady, leaving the sky heavy and grey, and misting out the trees on the far edge of the lawn. Scott lingered in the threshold of the door for a moment, watching the weather, but his brother had no such hesitation.

A little brother he might be, but John had never needed Scott to lead the way. With the assurance that Scott now knew where he was, and wouldn’t be hunting him down frantically, he strode out past him, the fabric covering his shoulder just brushing Scott’s, and out into the rain.

Scott lingered a moment longer, watching the way John tilted his face up slightly to greet the rain, the ginger curl of his bangs losing some of its volume as it dampened. John didn’t beam like their brothers when he was happy, but there was a relaxation in his face and a draining of tension in his body that told Scott that he’d got it right. John really had wanted to go out in the rain.

When his brother’s vibrant eyes slid closed, he took the final step outside himself, feeling the cool raindrops caressing his own skin and seeping into his hair. His hair gel was going to wash out if he stayed out here for too long, but that was a small price to pay to see John enjoying himself down on Earth.

So was the suit. The already black fabric of his jacket darkened even further with water almost immediately, and he knew that by the time John was ready to go inside again, it would be completely ruined. As he’d said to his brother, though, the suits were replaceable.

John’s happiness was not. Scott would ruin a hundred jackets if it meant seeing John so relaxed and content.

Jacketless, his brother’s shirt was quickly becoming soaked through, the white material clinging to his body - the same way his vibrant hair was starting to plaster to his scalp - gaining hints of translucency, and the thought crossed Scott’s mind that he’d have to make sure John didn’t get sick later. The astronaut didn’t seem to care about that, though, standing stock still for several minutes with his hands loosely hanging by his side and his face tilted upwards.

Scott hung back, several paces away but still outside in the rain himself. Cool droplets trickled down the back of his neck, originating somewhere around his hairline, and he could tell even without raising a hand to check that his own hair was plastering itself to his scalp in much the same way as John’s. One droplet ran down from his forehead and caught the corner of his eye, tangled up in eyelashes, and Scott blinked twice to clear it. Reluctantly it got the message and carried on down his face, running over his cheek and trailing down towards his chin.

They didn’t get rain like this at home. English rain was strange, and definitely nothing like the tropical rains Tracy Island witnessed. Even Kansas weather had been different to this. The water was cool and refreshing on his skin, and after several moments Scott took another couple of steps forwards, towards his brother.

He didn’t enter his personal space, though. If John wanted him there, he would make it clear - most likely by moving himself until he was within arm’s reach of Scott. As they’d come out here to escape the crowds, however, Scott deemed that unlikely. Instead, he wandered past him, away from the manor and large ballroom windows. If the wrong person looked out and saw them, their little rainy peace would be broken by someone else who cared less for their clothes than chasing Tracys.

Scott made sure to keep John in view, not prepared to hunt his brother down if the ginger pulled another disappearing act, even as he found a lone tree standing proud in the middle of the manicured lawn and slipped around it, allowing the trunk to conceal him from anyone glancing outside.

Exactly what type of tree it was, he didn’t know, but it was large and broad, boughs extending out above his head and providing a meagre shelter from the rain. It was the same as the trees that made up the woodland at the far edge of the lawn - also large and proud, but with enough space between some of them to hide a Thunderbird. His own ‘bird lurked inside, concealed from view and waiting to carry the two of them back home the next morning.

Tonight, Lady Penelope had insisted, they would stay with her, and Scott had no reason to decline. He did, however, hope that it was an invitation that hadn’t been extended to any of the other guests. Evading their apparent fixation with his marriage status - or lack thereof - was not something he wanted to have to spend all night and breakfast doing as well.

No matter how amused John might be at the whole affair.

Speaking of John, his brother appeared to have noticed that he’d moved, because he’d opened his eyes and started moving forwards himself.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one hiding from the party,” the ginger commented, his voice dry and at odds with the wet shirt he was wearing. The white had gone well and truly translucent now, clinging to his body in a way that Scott knew from experience would get John hounded by half the party the next time they saw him.

He made a mental note to sacrifice his jacket in John’s direction before they went back in. It wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but it would at least keep the attention off of him long enough for John to scrounge up a change of clothes.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, shrugging. “It wouldn’t matter which of us was hiding if they spotted the other, would it?”

John let out a small chuckle in response, rounding the tree in its entirety and therefore putting himself out of sight as well. “Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t want them badgering you about being single?”

He huffed in response, crossing his arms and leaning back against the trunk. The bark rubbed against the back of his jacket, but he ignored it. The rain had already done enough damage - what was a little more?

“My relationship status is none of their business,” he grumbled, shooting his younger brother a considering look. “Wait until they start on you.”

The smirk he got in return didn’t make him feel any better.

“They won’t give me a second glance while you’re around, big brother,” John pointed out with the air of someone who knew exactly what was up, and was quietly smug about it. “No-one’s interested in the spare Tracy.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “You know, technically you’re my heir,” he reminded him. It did nothing to douse the smug smirk his brother was sending his way.

“They don’t think like that,” John shrugged confidently. He was still out from underneath the protection of the boughs, rain falling on his skin and leaving trails of water across it. Scott watched a raindrop run right to the tip of his nose and hang there; the astronaut didn’t even seem to notice, even though it made Scott’s own nose twitch empathetically. “The only heirs they’re interested in are the unborn ones you don’t have because you’re still an eligible bachelor.”

Urgh. Scott pulled a face. “Did you have to put it like that?”

John’s ongoing smirk confirmed that yes, he did have to phrase it like that. Little brothers - who wanted them?

Scott refused to give John any satisfaction by saying that out loud, although he suspected that didn’t actually matter. If there was anyone who had mastered the art of mind-reading, Scott would put John right at the top of the suspect list.

“Well,” John said after a moment, shifting his weight. “I’m going to go for a walk. Are you coming, or would you rather hide under the tree?”

“I’m sheltering,” Scott corrected. John made an uh huh noise in the back of his throat which he purposefully ignored. Still, if John was offering company, instead of retreating into his own personal space, then Scott wasn’t going to turn that down. The problem with John living in space was that he just didn’t get to see this particular little brother in person as much as he’d like.

He pushed off from the tree, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets as he took the couple of short steps back out into the rain. John hadn’t bothered to wait for him, and he had to jog a couple more paces before he was at his brother’s side.

It felt like the rain had got heavier, but the droplets were still cool and refreshing on his face, even if he could feel his hair wilting under the weight. Beside him, John’s hair had all but lost its usual curl, vibrant strands of ginger instead plastered to his forehead. His brother didn’t seem to care at all.

Despite inviting him along, John didn’t seem particularly inclined towards conversation as he picked his way across the expansive grounds of the Creighton-Ward manor. It was clear that this was far from his brother’s first time doing so; while Scott started getting a little turned around by all the identically pruned bushes and perfect flowerbeds, John continued unerringly as though it was his ridiculously large garden.

Not that Scott could really comment on the size of the Creighton-Ward estate when his own home consisted of an entire volcano. Both the ranch and the Kansas farm spanned equally large acreage; the Tracys had never been a stranger to calling huge swathes of land home.

John had easily spent enough time in this manor during his Oxford days to have the entire estate mapped out in that impressive brain of his. Scott resolved to never play hide and seek with him here.

The silence that hung between them was a comfortable one. On some levels, it was more touching and heartfelt than if John had wanted to talk - John was a huge fan of personal space, and being invited to share it, trusted to share it, when he had so clearly hit his socialising quota already was akin to an honour.

Rain continued to fall, Scott’s jacket feeling more and more sodden by the minute, but John never headed for anything remotely resembling shelter. The weather wasn’t particularly warm, either. By English standards it might have been passable, but being used to the tropics meant that Scott found it decidedly on the cool side.

John seemed unaffected, but then again John spent most of his time in a rigidly controlled environment and hated the heat. Scott still hoped he’d be able to persuade Parker to get them both a hot drink when they re-entered the manor building. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past the older man to bundle them straight to their rooms with layers of blankets and disapproving mumbles. The former crook liked to pretend he was as tough as nails - and in some respects he was - but he was also quick to fuss over the few friends he had.

Being counted amongst that number was almost as high an honour as being invited to share John’s personal bubble.

Sunbeams poked out from behind the grey clouds as they were strolling through one of several rose gardens - or maybe it was the same one and John had led them around in circles a few times. In answer, the rain faded away into nothing and the world hung, heavy and still. John stopped walking, and Scott followed suit.

Above them, the clouds were dispersing. It seemed that the rain was over, at least for now, although the world around them shimmered a little like crystal as sun caught beads of water clinging to the flowers, the grass, the trees. John glistened as well, his hair transformed into a burning halo as the sun caught the water plastering it to his scalp.

Hands in his pockets and face once again tilted to the sky, Scott’s little brother appeared to be considering something. What, there was no point asking. If John wanted him to be part of the decision making process, he’d say so. Scott suspected he was debating if he wanted to stay outside or duck inside the manor to escape the reappearing sun.

John missed the rain on Thunderbird Five. He did not miss the sunburn.

Sure enough, after a moment his brother turned to face him.

“I’m heading back inside,” John said. “Are you done hiding from your eligible bachelorness yet or are you going to stay out here?”

Scott huffed at him, narrowing his eyes in displeasure at the jab. John really wasn’t going to be letting that go any time soon.

“They’ll have moved topics by now,” he replied, a lot more confidently than he felt. In all honesty, he had no idea how long it would be the hot topic for, but if he stayed out later than John he’d never live it down.

“That topic won’t be dropped until you’re married with kids,” his brother pointed out. Scott scowled. “But if you’re sure you’re ready to go back in…” He trailed off meaningfully and, without waiting for Scott, started striding back towards the manor.

Not wanting to let his brother out of his sight, and maybe a little unsure of the paths back, Scott lengthened his stride to catch up with him again. Turquoise eyes glanced sideways at him, and John’s face settled into subtle amusement.

Scott decided it was best for his pride if he didn’t ask what was funny.

He glanced up at the sky as they walked. The shimmer of moisture in the air was fading as the sun grew stronger and the clouds continued on their merry way to deposit rain on some other part of the English countryside. It wouldn’t be raining again just yet.

His foot caught something hard and he stumbled. Instantly a vice-like grip appeared on his arm, yanking him back upright and steadying him.

“And you call me the clumsy one,” John commented lightly. “Watch where you’re walking.”

Scott glared down at the flowerbed border he’d apparently walked into before switching targets to his brother. John, as always, seemed completely unperturbed at the look. Turquoise eyes looked him up and down, clearly making sure he hadn’t somehow hurt himself with his stumble, before the grip on his arm vanished and John continued down the path.

Sending another glare at the border, Scott followed.

Being behind John quickly brought back the reason why he’d been checking the sky. While the rain had stopped, the white shirt his brother was wearing was still very soaked through, with the consequences of that on full display. Scott shrugged out of his own, soaking wet, jacket.

“John,” he called, lengthening his strides to catch up. His brother paused and turned back to look at him quizzically, jumping as Scott draped the waterlogged jacket over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” the astronaut asked, making to shrug the fabric off. “Carry your own jacket, Scott.”

Scott caught the fabric before it could fall to the ground. “John, you’re wearing a white shirt.”

A single eyebrow raised. “Your observational skills are unparalleled.”

Little brothers. Scott huffed. “And yours are lacking,” he retorted. “You wore a white shirt in the rain.”

John looked at him, puzzled, for a moment, before comprehension dawned across his face. A quick glance down had his pale skin reddening slightly.

“Oh.”

Scott shook his head fondly and draped the jacket around his brother’s shoulders again. This time it was gratefully accepted. They weren’t quite the same size, but Scott’s shoulders were the broader of the two, so while the fabric bunched a little oddly when John threaded his arms through the sleeves and fumbled the buttons until it was concealing as much of the wet white shirt as possible, it did at least fit. Scott was grateful it wasn’t Virgil.

“You might want to go and get changed into something dry,” he suggested. “Get out of those clothes.”

“I didn’t bring a spare suit,” John reminded him. “I don’t have anything else with me suitable for Lady P’s party.”

Scott rolled his eyes and started walking again. “Then just don’t come back to the party,” he said bluntly. “That’s not exactly a tragedy for you. You can see Lady Penelope again once it’s over - she won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“She will care,” John corrected, catching up to him. “She’ll judge my outfit and everything.” Despite the words being ones of apparent complaint, he didn’t actually seem that bothered about it. Then again, he had survived going to university with the woman. Their friendship was on a completely different level compared to the one the rest of the Tracys shared with her.

“Just go and get yourself out of those wet clothes and make yourself comfortable for the rest of the evening,” Scott sighed. “I’ll make your excuses.”

“If I need to get changed, why don’t you?” John challenged. Scott grinned at him and tapped his own shirt.

“Not white,” he pointed out. Well, admittedly, he would call it white, but according to Virgil it was cream, and according to the weather that combined with the covering jacket meant that it hadn’t gone the same way as John’s white shirt. “Ergo, still appropriate for polite company.”

John scrutinised him for several moments as they walked, as though he was trying to find an excuse why Scott’s outfit wasn’t appropriate any more.

“You’ll get sick if you stay in wet clothes too long,” he said eventually. “Make sure you come up and get changed soon.”

“I don’t have a spare suit, either,” Scott admitted. “I’ll be fine.” It couldn’t be that many more hours before the end of the party, surely…

“If you’re not up in half an hour I’m sending Parker to extract you,” John said firmly. “Virgil will have both our hides if you go home sick.”

“Half an hour?” Scott repeated. “I’ll be lucky to talk to Lady Penelope by then. You’ll have to give me longer than that.” There was no point telling John not to enlist Parker at all - his brother would hum non-committedly then do it anyway the instant he was out of earshot.

John scoffed. “You’ll find a way,” he said confidently. “Just flirt your way through the crowds like you normally do. Half an hour, then Parker will get involved.”

They’d arrived back at the manor itself, and John sent him one last smug grin before vanishing up what had to be a servant’s staircase before Scott could try another attempt to bargain for more time. With a quiet groan, Scott adjusted his damp tie and headed back towards the ballroom.

His wet - and likely bedraggled - appearance caused a stir when he re-entered the room. Conversations stopped, eyes stared, and then the whispering started. Well, he’d take them talking about him over attempts to restart the conversations about his relationship status.

He scanned the room for the tell-tale flash of pink, locating Lady Penelope just before she came to a stop in front of him.

“I was under the impression you were looking for John, not trying to impersonate a drowned rat,” the Lady commented lightly. “You also appear to have misplaced your jacket, Scott.”

He shrugged lazily. “John wanted to go outside.”

“I see.” From the fond look that flickered in her eyes, she probably did get it. The British aristocrat was the closest thing John had to a best friend, after all. “And where is John now?”

“Retiring for the evening,” Scott explained. “Or at least until the party’s over and the stars are out.”

Lady Penelope laughed a little at that. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she agreed. “And what about you? I notice today’s main topic of discussion isn’t to your liking.” There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that was entirely too similar to John’s reaction.

Scott decided the best thing to do was ignore it.

“I should get changed,” he admitted. “I’ll see you after the party’s over?”

“I dare say you should,” Lady Penelope agreed, “before you turn my ballroom into a swimming pool. Very well, I’ll see you boys later.” She turned away, and immediately got caught in another conversation with a guest.

Scott took the opportunity to duck back out of the room, evading anyone who might want to corner him for further conversations that he really didn’t care for.

Parker was standing just outside the door.

“Ah, there you h’are,” the butler said as Scott narrowly avoided walking into him. “h’I h’understand you’re done for the h’evening?”

Scott checked his watch. “There’s no way it’s been half an hour already,” he said suspiciously.

“‘alf h’an hour since when?” Parker asked innocently. “Master John said nothing h’about h’a time limit.” No, of course John didn’t. Pesky little brother. “Well, h’as you h’appear to be trying to turn h’into a drowned rat, h’I’d say you need a nice warm drink h’and a change h’of clothes.”

“That’s the plan,” Scott admitted. “I’ll see you later, Parker.”

“That you will,” the older man agreed, and Scott paused with his foot on the bottom step of the staircase. “h’I’ll be bringing h’up some ‘ot chocolate for the pair h’of you in a few minutes. ‘Onestly, what were you thinking, going h’out h’in the rain like that?”

Scott shrugged. “John wanted to,” he said, before resuming his ascent of the staircase, knowing that Parker would make good on his promise and be up soon with the drinks.

The Creighton-Ward manor was huge, and the guest suites were equally so. There was no sharing of bedrooms when they stayed overnight, but as Scott entered the room designated as his, he discovered a brother lounging on his bed, tablet in hand. Ginger hair was ruffled and sticking up all over the place - a clear victim of a towel drying - and the soaked suit had been replaced by a much less formal shirt and jeans.

“Don’t you have your own room?” he asked, not breaking his stride as he headed for his overnight bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Parker’s bringing the drinks here,” John replied, not looking up from whatever it was he was reading. “It makes more sense for me to be here.” Scott huffed and worked his tie loose from around his neck.

“You just wanted to make sure I didn’t stay in the party,” he accused.

John didn’t deny it, and Scott rolled his eyes before heading into the ensuite to dry off and get changed into his more casual clothes. No more formal suit and tie for him tonight.

When he re-emerged several minutes later, his own hair rivalling John’s for towel-dried mess and begging for another round of brushing and hair gel, Parker had arrived with the promised steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Drink up, the both of you,” the man demanded. “Going h’out in the rain like that, I h’ask you.” He shook his head despairingly. “What will your Gran say h’if you go and get yourself sick?”

“We won’t get sick, Parker,” Scott said confidently, accepting his mug and letting the warmth seep from the ceramic into his fingers. “We didn’t get that wet.”

“Don’t h’underestimate the English weather,” Parker warned. “Drink that h’up and wrap h’up warm.”

John appeared silently at his elbow and claimed his own mug before retreating back to the bed. Scott watched him burrow his bare feet under the covers and huffed.

“That’s my bed, you know,” he complained. John lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“So?”

“So, leave some room for me.” Mug in hand, Scott settled himself next to his brother, nudging him over gently. John obliged, and after a few moments of shifting around, the pair of them were sat shoulder to shoulder with their feet under the covers.

Parker eyed them approvingly, and then tossed a blanket over their laps as well.

“h’I’ll be back once the party’s h’over,” he told them. “Keep warm.”

“We’ll be fine,” Scott assured him. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

Blue eyes surveyed him suspiciously. “h’I know some people that’d disagree with that h’assessment, Mr Scott. But duty calls, h’I suppose.”

Parker was clearly reluctant to leave them for some reason, but he did begrudgingly go out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving the two brothers to their drinks.

The hot chocolate was, unsurprisingly, good, and Scott found himself draining the mug in record time. Beside him, John was almost as fast, and they set the mugs down on the bedside tables almost in unison.

“Parker makes the best hot chocolate,” John commented, and Scott couldn’t help but agree.

“He does,” he agreed. “I could go for another.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I finished mine before you got it into your head to steal it,” John said dryly. “You can ask him for another one later.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. “I might do that. This might all be overkill-” he gestured at the warm mugs and the blanket, subtly tucking them in the bed “-but even if we’re not going to get sick, that chocolate is worth it.”

The sneeze came out of nowhere. As did the second, and the third.

The fourth sneeze came from his brother, and Scott glanced over at him with a sinking feeling. Bright turquoise met his eyes, and John gave a wane smile before sneezing again.

“I think,” his brother said, before being interrupted by another sneeze, “that maybe this wasn’t so overkill after all.”

Scott buried his face in his hands. It did nothing to stop the next sneeze, and he groaned.

“You might be right,” he admitted. “Dammit. Virgil’s going to- achoo -kill us.”

John groaned.

#tag mini bang 2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari write fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #lady penelope creighton-ward #aloysius parker #a little fall of rain #thunderfluff

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kjhmyg · 4 years ago

Text

rough edges pt. 6 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk, fluffy too :( warnings: mentions of drugs, unprotected sex, cursing, violence, alcohol, drinking, death, manhandling, college parties, boys lol word count: 10.7K

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / part 6 / 6.5

author’s note: hello i love u. first of all welcome to ♡ libra season ♡ sorry this took so long; it feels kinda short so maybe i’ll post a short 1k chapter next week (part 6.5). i wrote the last half of the last part like an hour ago i hope i didnt make any big grammatical errors or typos lol. also dedicating this to my friend haru who i miss loads.

RE asks tag

What was a red mark on Jungkook’s cheek, has now turned purple-ish. He promises it doesn’t hurt anymore but you notice him mindlessly touching it at times. So you kiss it very gently each time you say goodbye and he doesn’t stop you.

With one arm around over the back of your chair, he’s feeding himself fries with the other. You lean against his shoulder, watching as he nibbles away. “Can’t keep your eyes off me huh?” He mutters.

“You know I can’t.” You admit, giggling into quick, continuous pecks. He lingers on a little longer on the last one like he always does.

“Will you guys save it for the bedroom?” Jimin asks, face twisted in disgust. He doesn’t really care, but it’s fun to tease Jungkook. “Gross.”

“Gross is you dipping fries in your coke.” Hana shakes her head at the soaked fry between his thumb and index finger.

"Don't be mad you don't have refined taste in food like me." He shoots back. “A soaked fry has equal parts sweet and salty.”

“You’re just gross.”

Hana’s realised it doesn’t take much to get under his skin and is enjoying every bit of it. The irony is that it always starts with Jimin trying to get under Jungkook’s skin. Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s phone has his undivided attention. In fact, he’s been rather quiet today, spending the last five minutes or so frowning at his screen.

“Tae, you alright?”

“No.” He sighs, finally looking up. “I have to get a job.”

“...And?”

“Well I don’t want to.” He says simply. “Can’t believe my parents are cutting off my allowance because I spend too much.” He uses air quotes.

Except for Jimin, the rest of you only manage blank stares, unable to sympathise with his first world problem. "Yeah, I’m sure those thousand dollar Balenciaga sneakers you got last week have nothing to do with it.” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook. They were limited edition.”

“A thousand dollars?” You say. “What the hell dude.”

“Okay can we stop talking about the past and focus on the present?” Leaning back against his chair and looking into the distance, Jimin places a comforting hand on his shoulder

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a nice job.” Jimin says and he lets out a tiny whine, throwing his head back.

That’s when it hits you. You have no idea how, but it does. And you have no idea if it’ll work but you’re doing it anyway.

A clueless Hana raises a brow in question at the sudden look of mischief you give her. She braces herself for whatever you’re about to do, equally curious and worried. “Actually, you should apply at our café.” You say to Taehyung.

“They’re hiring?”

“Well not yet.” Turning back to her, you widen your eyes slightly, prompting Hana to play along. She quickly does, noticing Jungkook watching her over your shoulder. “I’m leaving soon so they’ll definitely need a replacement.”

“You’re quitting?” Jungkook asks, sitting up straight. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” The little head shake you give isn’t enough to convince him. “I just wanna work somewhere else. Anyway, you’d like working there Tae. It’s nice.” The other boy perks up, seemingly interested.

Hana agrees, explaining the details of your work and what it’s like there. While they talk, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder to get your attention, “Are you sure nothing happened? Creeps harassing you again?”

“No, really.” You say, hand over his cheek. “I just want a change of environment. The job’s getting boring.”

The worry in his eyes gradually disappears as he seems to accept it. He gives a soft okay for now. Looking away, you let out a silent sigh of relief. On the inside, the rational side of you is yelling her head off. What possessed you to decide to quit your job for no good reason? This plan is banking on the chance that Jungkook will let you join him at the club. Which when you think about it, is very unlikely to happen.

Yet, another part of you is excited. Your mind is in a frenzy. Convincing yourself you’ll figure the details out later, you silently thank Taehyung and his Balenciagas for handing you this opportunity.

"Oh hey, we better get going." Jimin says, looking at the time on his phone. "We'll see you guys tonight?"

The girls of Eta Iota are hosting a party tonight. Naturally, the boys get invited and by association, you too. Sunhee’s cashing in on your promise of taking her to one, so you have to go even if it’s just to hang around for a while then leave. You part ways with Jimin and Tae as Jungkook gives Hana and you a ride back. He walks with you to the lobby of your place, where you tell Hana to head up first.

Right by the stairwell, he leans against the wall and holds you in his arms, between his legs. “Are you sure you wanna quit your job?”

"Yessss, I’m sure. I wanna work somewhere else." Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him. "It's cute that you're worried about me."

“Of course I am.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll help you keep a lookout for places that are hiring.”

You smile gleefully up at him. Oh, he’s going to help you get a new job alright. Just not in the way he’s thinking. Already, you feel bad for lying to him. But you keep telling yourself you’re doing this for him.

He doesn’t let you go so easily when you try and remove yourself, not giving up his hold on you. When you pry his hands off, he tugs you right back in, locking you in his arms as kisses land all over your face. “Stop,” you laugh, “someone might see us.” But you don’t look around to check for anyone. He doesn’t care either.

He lifts you up easily, wrapping your legs around him. Switching positions, you now feel the cool wall against your back. “Should we skip the party tonight?” He asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“You have to go. It’s part of your fraternity sorority socialising thingy thing.” He rolls his eyes at that. “Plus, I promised Sunhee I’d go with her.”

"Fine. But I’m only going ‘cause you’re going."

“So I’ll see you there, okay?” He nods in response as his hold on you loosens. A peck on the cheek and you’re going up the stairs, one step at a time, hand still holding on to his. As it slips away, he squeezes his chest with his other hand and groans in mock pain.

“Silly,” you mutter between giggles. He breaks character and skips up the steps to get another kiss from you. At this rate he would never leave.

“Jungkook seriously,” you say against his lips, leaning back to separate yourself from him, “you should go now. I’ll see you later anyway.”

He complies and lets you go, but not without releasing a very dramatic sigh. You hurry up the steps before he changes his mind, looking down over the railing as you go, waving your goodbye.

𝄖𝄖

Purple, purple everywhere. The Etas had decided to do their rush party while celebrating their anniversary. Which explains why the decorations are of their ‘official’ colour. Purple balloons, cups, banners, napkins.

“This is so fun!” Sunhee squeals, coming up to hug you from behind. “I’ve made a bunch of new friends!” She squeals again and hurries off elsewhere, leaving you and Hana once again.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.” Hana comments, taking a sip of her drink.

“Aren’t you?” You nudge her side. “You’ve had like four guys come up and give you their number. Don’t act like you’re not having fun.”

“I guess I’m havin’ a lil’ fun…” she mumbles towards the end, sipping on her drink with a tiny smile. She’s holding up much better than you thought she would. Much better than you at least, she doesn’t seem too bothered by the constant yelling.

There’s no reason to worry about Sunhee. She’d clung on to you earlier when you arrived together as promised, like you’re her ticket in. As soon as you passed through the doors, a couple of girls from the host house came up to greet you. While it was a little awkward for you, Sunhee saw her chance and took it. She’s been hanging out with them since.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Hana asks. She’s still unsure about your plan. You had gotten an earful from her earlier on, back at the apartment. Only after you promised, pinky promised and swore you’d be safe, did she finally calm down.

“Somewhere.” It’s crowded enough to not be able to see the other end of the room. You crane your neck to see better. “Don’t know if I can find him with all these people around.”

“Go.” Her pretty, long eyelashes flutter over her eyes as she looks at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You’re hesitant to leave, but she reiterates that she’d be fine and you finally nod, much to her relief. She has Jimin and Taehyung with her anyway, she says, nodding over to the pair a few feet away.

Before disappearing into the crowd, you turn back to let her know you might not see her for the rest of the night. But she’s read your mind, waving her hands at you. “You’ll be with Jungkook, I know.”

“Text me when you get home. I love you.” You blow her a kiss and watch her roll her eyes, then push through bodies of people to get to a different part of the house. There’s way too many people here. Most of them tower at least a head over you, disrupting your view. Your phone vibrates just as you enter the biggest room of the house which gives you a little more maneuvering space than the previous one.

Jungkook: u look great

Slowly, you turn in the spot you’re in, paying close attention to each section of the room.

Jungkook: i like pink

Jungkook: ur ass looks great in those jeans btw

You: reveal yourself

He doesn’t respond and you continue to wander around, until you reach a short hallway separating the kitchen area from the previous room. With more room to breathe, you decide to stay put knowing Jungkook won’t keep this up for long anyway. And you’re right.

"Looking for me?" His hot breath tickles your ear.

Spinning around, you're greeted by his wide grin and immediately hate how good he looks in a simple white tee with his house name, Kappa Sigma embedded on the left chest, and tucked into black jeans, "Hey you." He tastes like fruit punch when you kiss him.

Your bodies sway slightly to the music with his hands on your hips and your arms around his neck. He reaches behind, pulling something out of his back pocket and holds it up in front of you. “Lollipop?”

“It’s...purple.” You take it from him, observing its odd colour, wondering if this was even necessary.

“I know.” He chuckles. “They really go all out.”

You shrug, unwrapping the sweet and pop it in your mouth. “So, you wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“But I thought you liked parties,” you blink, “socialising, hooking up.”

“I know you’re making fun of me but it’s kinda hot when you talk like that.” He eyes the way your lips wrap around the lollipop, unconsciously mirroring the movement of your tongue licking the layer of sugar off your lips, suddenly going thirsty.

You shove him in the chest and he laughs, stepping back. “I’ve been here less than an hour.” You say. Although, it’s not like you were planning to stay long anyway. You know that, he knows that.

“You won’t miss a thing, trust me.” He hooks an arm over your shoulder. “Besides, we can get started on the hooking up part.” He winks.

You leave through the back, avoiding the large crowd up front. You quickly send a text to Hana to let her know you’re leaving. Out on the lawn, you walk past a group of guys drunkenly singing to their heart's content and you flash them a thumbs up despite how horrible they sound.

The Eta Iota house is just a few houses down from the boys’ and you walk back hand in hand, swinging your arms as you go. Jungkook watches your smile, and the way you laugh when your arms swing so far back that it throws you off balance and you almost fall. “You look good.” He says, softly.

“I know, you told me.” You say without sparing him a glance. “I look good in pink. And these jeans are good for my ass.”

“No.” His voice is as soft as his smile. Looking at him then, you notice the tender look in his eyes. “I mean you look good when you’re happy. It’s nice. Does that make sense? I don’t know.”

Your heart leaps at the way he looks away almost shyly, focusing entirely on the ground as he walks, his other hand in his pocket. You close the gap between you and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you too.”

The rest of the short walk back goes in comfortable silence, you still lightly swinging your arms. But as you reach the front of the house, Jungkook pauses. It surprises you when he decides to take a walk in the park instead. You give him curious glances along the way, wondering what’s gotten into him. It’s a ten minute walk from his place to a park that’s your go-to for impromptu date nights.

You walk past groups of people hanging around, laughing with food on large picnic mats. Finally you opt for an empty space on the grass, not too far away from others there but secluded enough to have some privacy.

“Oh my god, look at the clouds.” They’re big and fluffy, floating through the dark sky. “I wish we could see the stars. That’d be perfect.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “There are places where you can do that you know.”

“Yeah, I’d love to go one day.” You say with a heavy sigh.

“We could go together.” Jungkook says, making you look at him. “Like a vacation.”

“Aw. I’d love that.”

He smiles sweetly, then turns in place to face you. “I went to look for places which were hiring earlier.”

“You did? Why?”

“Aren’t you...quitting your job?” He looks at you confused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“Yeah but, there’s no rush.”

“Just wanna make sure you have something to fall back on.” He says, checking his phone. “So, the bakery right next to the cafe is hiring.”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “I can’t quit and then take up a job next door!”

“I know but, just in case.” He goes on, looking upwards as he recalls. “The school’s also looking for a part-time librarian⎼”

“Baby no, that’s so boring.” You groan. “I thought I’d look for something more...exciting. Like a routesetter maybe?”

“I didn’t know you rock climb?”

“Oh I don’t.” He looks at you with a blank expression on his face. “What? I can learn to!”

"You're weird." He shakes his head and taps your nose. "Why would you wanna go out of your way for a part time job?"

"Cause...it's fun?"

"Even you don't believe that."

"You're right." The wheels in your head turn at full speed, trying to make this as natural as possible. You have to be careful, Jungkook's way too attentive when it comes to you. "Okay, I'll be honest."

He perks up. Face filled with curiosity, as if ready to say I knew it, that something was up, and that you wouldn't leave your job over nothing.

"I'm quitting because…" You gulp. "I want to spend more time with you."

"What?"

"Don't be mad." You add in quickly. "I just thought that I'd get to have more time to spare for you if I wasn't always working."

Eyes closed, he lets out a sigh and drops his head with a little shake. The small smile and amused look in his eyes makes you smile too. “Are you serious? Are you running a fever?” He places the back of his palm against your forehead and then checks the pulse on your wrist.

“I’m fine.” You snatch your hand back.

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t make impulsive decisions like this.” He quirks a brow, “You know you need that job. How else will you pay rent? Get groceries? You don’t ever let me pay for anything.”

“I’ll find a job with less hours.”

“Less hours, less pay.” He lifts your chin up, pouty lips calling him in. “Don’t be silly baby, you’re not leaving your job.”

“Too late.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I...may have...emailed my resignation...earlier on.”

He groans and you cringe when he shoots you a look of disapproval. You give your best kicked puppy look which doesn’t work. “This doesn’t happen often but I’m really mad at you right now.”

“Don’t be.” You scoot closer and when he turns his head away, you move onto his lap, forcing him in an embrace. “I’ll find something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Go back to work tomorrow and speak to your manager. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.” He asks seriously. “I’ll go and have coffee during every one of your shifts so we’re technically spending time together.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m the silly one?”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” You sigh. “I didn’t think things through…”

“You’re damn right you didn’t.” He rests his head in his palm. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“Spend more time with you?” You inch even closer, if it’s even possible with how you’re already sticking to him like glue. He doesn’t reply right away but squeezes you in his hold, resting his cheek on your head. “Are you still angry?”

“Yes.”

You lift your head off him for a kiss. When he sighs this time, he feels the anger dissipating. At the same time he curses the way his body betrays him when it comes to you. You can barely tell he’s upset with the way he responds so eagerly. The pleased look you give him after has him rolling his eyes. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m cute.”

“True.” He leans back, hands on the grass behind him. “But, we are going to look for job postings online tonight.”

“But mom!” You whine, folding your arms in front of you.

“No buts.”

“Not even my butt?” Blinking innocently at him, you add in a little head tilt until he breaks and starts grinning. “Thought you liked my butt.”

He falls onto the grass, laughing in disbelief and you steady yourself on his chest. “What has gotten into you?” He says, watching as you hover over him. “You’re acting so weird.”

“No I’m not. I’m just happy, like you said.” You kiss him on the nose. “You’re the weird one. Nagging at me about getting a job. Being a responsible adult and stuff.”

He flips over, switching your positions so that he’s hovering over you now. Almost immediately, you’re distracted by how dreamy he looks with the view of the night sky behind him. You run your thumb over one side of his cheek. “You did this to me. Plus I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I can pull some strings and get you a job somewhere fun.”

He rolls over to your side and lets you rest your head under his arm, both of you watching the sky. You shift even closer, slinging one leg over his and draw circles on his chest. “Hey I mean, worse comes to worst, I could always come and work for you.”

Surprisingly, he laughs. Really hard. You lift yourself up and rest on your elbow to watch him. “Nice one.” He sighs. Then he notices the way you’re looking at him, face void of expression and brows up in question. “What? You were serious?”

“Slightly offended that you thought it was that funny but yes, I was.”

He raises a brow at you. “You? Want to work at a club? Doing what?”

“Bartender? Cleaner?”

“Don’t even joke about that, our cleaners are our most valuable staff. They clean, sanitise, then double sanitise, wipe up vomit, make sure the booths aren’t lined with nasty fluids.”

Your face twists in horror and he nods, proving his point. “Okay...fine so I’m not qualified enough for that. But bartending? I can do that.”

“No.”

“Why?”

He gets up and you follow. He ruffles the back of his head and dusts of the grains on his hands. “Baby, you’re not working there. I won’t allow it.”

“But𝄖”

“Y/N, I said no.” There was no room to argue, not even cheekily. He didn't raise his voice, but the tone he took was enough. Easing the firm stare he gave you as he said it, he turns his attention to his phone as it beeps.

𝄖𝄖

"Lucky for you, I told the manager you just needed a break to focus on school," Hana yawns, pulling up the blanket to her face, "you can come back anytime."

"You want me to give up?"

"Only because your plan is dangerous."

"Hana, I'm not giving up."

She sighs, turning over to the other side. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

You push yourself off her bed and sit on the edge, thinking. Quietly, you pull open the drawer by her bed, fumbling around until you feel what you’re looking for. The little paper you tore out of Jungkook’s notebook. When he started sleeping over, you had asked Hana to keep it safe for you. You stare at the address. You hadn’t gotten round to visiting the place, especially since you don’t even know what you’re looking for.

“Turn off the light when you leave, will you?” Hana mumbles half-asleep.

You leave the piece of paper and close the drawer.

𝄖𝄖

Two days later, you’re back at his place. The guys are all over, making sure the house is ready for a party tonight. Each of them were assigned different tasks to settle to save time. When you arrived, Hoseok made sure to separate Jungkook from you, for the sake of efficiency, so you’re stuck in the kitchen with Jimin. Helping him with the cleaning, you listen mindlessly as he rambles on about something. He yells at every guy that enters and tries to steal some snacks but sneaks some into his mouth when no one’s looking.

Just as you’re done wiping down the chip bowls, Jungkook walks in with dark stains all over his shirt and face. He chugs down half a bottle of orange juice from the fridge before opening a bag of gummies placed on the table for the party which has Jimin groaning.

“What happened to you?”

“Car oil needed changing. Cleaned up under the hood too.”

“What?” Jimin shrieks. “You were working on your car this entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“While the rest of us were preparing for the party? Unbelievable!” He huffs, “You were supposed to fix the first floor bathroom⎼”

Jungkook signals for him to stop, holding up a palm. “Fine, I’ll go do it now.” He reaches out for your hand and continues to nod at everything Jimin says as he tags you along, the nagging fading away as you run upstairs.

“You should really go and help out.” You say, plopping down on his bed with a bounce.

Jungkook hums, “I will. Later.”

Sniffing the shirt he has on, he lets out a disapproving grunt. He removes it in one swoop and tosses it into a basket. You watch quietly as he steps closer, eyes fixed on yours. He leans forward and your hands grip the sheets as you lean back, looking at him expectantly. Then his arm moves past your head and reaches for another shirt on the bed, behind you. He snickers and you slap his shoulder.

“I’m leaving.”

“Aw, come on, don’t go.” He jumps into bed and grabs you. He leans on his side, propped up on his elbow, hand on your middle.

“I have to get some groceries.” You play with his hair. “Then I’m gonna freshen up and come back here in time for the party.”

“Great, I’ll drive you.”

“No, you stay. Fix the bathroom.”

“But I don’t want to.” He groans, and rolls over onto you. Almost naturally, your legs wrap around him and he starts kissing your neck, moving down to your chest, pulling down your shirt. You stop him, giggling. “Why do you always wanna leave when we kiss?” He frowns.

“Why do you always kiss me when I’m leaving?”

“‘Cause I don’t want you to leave."

The smell of your skin makes him smile. It smells like...home.

You feel his weight slowly get heavier on you as his body relaxes and melts into yours, nestling his face into your neck. He almost drifts to sleep with the way you’re rubbing his back. When you ruffle his hair, he lifts his head and claims a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Kookie.”

You giggle as he drops his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. Groaning, he recalls the night Suga found out about the nickname. He has since, constantly used it on Jungkook whenever he can. “He’s never letting that go. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” You laugh, chest moving under him. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

Supporting his weight on one arm, he hovers above you while his free hand brushes past the side of your face. “You don’t remember anything you said that night?”

“No.” That can’t be good. You scan his face. “Why? Did I say something weird?”

“No. Just wondering.” He says gently, expression slowly changing into a smile that makes you forget you were even worried a second ago. “Don’t get drunk anymore. Suga likes you way too much when you’re drunk.”

“Does he?” You laugh, cupping his face. If Suga likes you, you can use this to your advantage. You can’t wait to tell Hana your plan worked.

When Jungkook hears the sound of his name being called from somewhere around the house, he groans and sinks into you again. You push him off you with much difficulty, laughing as he keeps plopping back down into you.

“Okay, they need you. I’m leaving so you can focus. I’ll come back later.” You say, when you finally manage to escape. Reluctantly, he follows behind as you walk down the stairs.

Just as you reach the bottom of the steps, you’re being pulled to the side, against the wall where he corners you into, hands on either side. “I’ll be waiting, so you better show up.” Down your back, up your front, his hands run over your body till they rest just under your jaw, making you lift your chin towards him. Breath hitching in your throat, he carefully brings his lips to yours, teasing a soft touch. Then he lets go.

He smiles like nothing happened and you catch your breath before racing to the front door. You hear a soft chuckle and turn to see him winking at you as he goes in the other direction. Hearing voices from the kitchen where the meeting has started, you quickly close the door behind you, ignoring the pulsing between your thighs.

𝄖𝄖

With a basketful of groceries, you stroll through the store, looking for anything you might have missed out. As you walk, you notice from afar, standing right in front of the refrigerated section your new friend Namjoon. You head straight for him, a little bounce in your step. When you stop right next to him, he turns slowly and carefully.

“Oh. It’s you.” He says as he realises.

“Getting some groceries?” You ask, looking at the shelf then back at him.

“Oh just,” he lifts up a bottle of juice, “getting my orange juice. I see you’re getting your monthly supply. You alone?”

“Yeah I am.” You nod, “My roommate’s busy with school stuff.”

“Right.” He smiles, then it seems like a thought comes to him. “Hey, you’re going for the party tonight right?”

“What? How’d you know about that?” You look at him confused.

“I have friends too you know.”

“But, you can’t come. You’re technically faculty.” You say, putting down your basket to fold your arms in front of you and stare him down. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

He chuckles, then points and holds up a finger in front of you. “Actually, I’m an external instructor. So technically, I’m not faculty.”

“How convenient.” You eye him down.

“Fine, fine.” He sighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party, okay? I just wanna mingle.”

“Hm.” You chew on your bottom lip. Seems genuine enough. You can’t help but wonder if he’s there for something else. How will that go down with Jungkook? “An instructor looking to mingle with his students...definitely no red flags there.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, I’m not that much older than you. And I’m not that kinda person.”

“That’s what they all say.” You shrug. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Cool.” He winks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks off way too quickly, like he’s avoiding something and heads straight for the checkout counter. Of course you know why he’d go to a college party; the perfect place to sell his drugs. You can’t figure out if you should let Jungkook know about Namjoon. But then again, he almost always knows what’s going on. And he’d be uneasy knowing you know so much.

You pick up your basket off the floor and head for checkout yourself. Barely making ten steps, you notice someone leaning against the side of a shelf, watching you with his arms crossed, mischievous smile on his face. Your other new friend. How coincidental.

“Suga.” You say, a tone way too excited for his liking but he nods anyway. You walk over to him and stand awkwardly before him, holding your basket with both hands in front of you. “Hi.”

“Hey cutie.” He searches for someone behind you. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh he’s back at home.” You smile. “They’re getting ready for rush week. And the party tonight.”

“Am I invited?”

“Oh, um…” You can tell he’s joking, but you can’t be too sure. How interesting would it be to have Jungkook, Namjoon and Suga in one place. You wonder what would happen if they met.

You chuckle nervously without giving an answer and he shrugs it off. “I was kidding.”

“I guess you can come if you want to.” You say with a tiny shrug. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t mind.”

He changes the subject almost immediately, offering to help you carry your basket, which you politely decline. He walks with you to the counter. “So who was that guy you were talking to?”

Oh, he’s an instructor from school and also the new drug dealer in town. “Oh him? He’s the new self-defense instructor on campus.”

“Really?” He looks amused, and bites his bottom lip in a half-smile. “Cool. And you guys are friends?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” You place your basket on the counter and help the cashier to unload the items to scan. You don’t notice the way Suga laughs silently to himself, shaking his head.

“You know what, I gotta go.” Suga says, walking backwards towards the exit. You don’t even manage to reply to him before he takes off. “Let’s drink again sometime soon!”

𝄖𝄖

Hana is less than pleased to know about your run-ins. She looks at you with daggers in her eyes. “You have to stop this. He obviously knows your plan."

"Stop overreacting. How could he possibly know that?"

She shrugs. The loud music drowns out your voices from being overheard by those around you. "It's hard to believe it was a coincidence running into him.” She says and you sigh, choosing to ignore her.

The last you saw Jungkook, he was laughing away with a group of people. You didn’t want to bother him, he’d be busy anyway trying to get freshies on his side. But it’s been a while and now you don’t see him anywhere.

While Hana mingles, you go off to look for him. In the kitchen, you find Jimin doing shots of something that doesn’t look edible with a bunch of guys cheering him on. But no Jungkook. You peek out on the deck out back but he’s not there either. A hand on the sliding doors, you sigh and step out into the courtyard, breathing in air that doesn’t smell like sweat.

You pause when you step down the stairs and spot something, squinting at the sight of two guys in the far end of the backyard, right by the bush-lined fence. Recognising that jacket, you realise one of them is Jungkook. He then pulls something out of his pocket and shakes hands with the other guy. You turn back before he spots you. Probably just a polite handshake. Maybe with an old friend. Yup.

Step back inside, you’re being stopped by a hand on your arm. “You look flustered.” He says.

“Hi Hoseok.” You force a smile. “It’s warm in here.”

His eyes flicker over to the backyard and back at you. “This is what he does at parties. It’s how he distributes them.”

“So?” You look around uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t like it either.” He stops you before you can reply. “Can you meet me outside in ten minutes? It’s important.”

“You’re already here, what is it? No one’s paying any attention to us anyway.”

“I can’t.”

The sceptical look you give him has him feeling restless. “Trust me, it’s very important.”

From the tone of his voice, he sounds sincere. You don’t want to, but do you want to risk not knowing something that could help you help Jungkook? You hate this. After a long pause, you nod reluctantly. “Fine.”

Neither of you realised the two figures approaching until they’re walking up the steps. Hoseok and you share a look, as if pleading to the other to act normal. As they reach the door, you see now that Jae is the other guy. He greets you as he walks past, then blends into the crowd. Behind him, Jungkook spares you a curious look at the little exchange. He then notices Hoseok’s presence.

“What’s going on?” He looks back and forth at the two of you. “You look upset.”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m fine.” You muster up your best smile. “We were just talking about the guy who puked in the sink earlier.”

“Speaking of which, I should go make sure he’s not puking elsewhere.” Hoseok says, taking his leave.

You can’t tell if Jungkook bought that but he doesn’t question it. His demeanour changes as soon as Hoseok leaves, directing his attention on you. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No.” You smile. “I ran into him while looking for some food.”

“Oh⎼”

He doesn’t get a chance to continue when someone he knows slaps him on the back. They chat for a while as he keeps you close next to him, even when you try to pry his fingers off. The other guy drags him somewhere but before he goes, he turns to you. “Grab some food and meet me upstairs, I’ll just be a second.” He winks, stealing a kiss.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just come find you later on it’s fine𝄖”

“You’re not getting rid of me babe.” He jokes and you let out an awkward laugh as he goes.

You haven’t mastered being in two places at once, you’re not a ninja. And in a few minutes, Hoseok will be waiting for you outside. And Jungkook upstairs. You groan, searching the cabinets for some snacks before heading up to Jungkook’s room.

That’s when you notice a familiar blond head among the crowd you. It distracts you. You could’ve sworn that was Suga. But too many people are blocking your line of sight. As you reach the spot you had possibly seen him, he’s gone. You don’t have time to think about this. Swiftly, you run up the steps and head right for Jungkook’s door. And of course, a familiar face exits the washroom on the same floor.

“Namjoon.”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me?” He raises a brow with a playful smile on his face. “I told you I was coming.

You shake your head and look behind you. “Nothing I was just⎼”

“Hogging all the snacks?” He gestures towards the food you’re cradling in your arms and you laugh.

“There’s more downstairs.” You reassure him.

As if on cue, footsteps move swiftly up the stairs and you glance behind to find Jungkook halfway up, a cautious look on his face as he approaches you. Namjoon nods politely. For a moment it’s like you can no longer hear the music blasting, enveloped by the awkward silence.

“Uh, Jungkook this is Namjoon.” You notice the way his jaw clenches as he takes Namjoon’s outstretched hand in his. “And this is Jungkook.”

“The boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He flashes a blinding smile Jungkook’s way.

“Likewise.”

Namjoon reads the room well and you’re thankful for it. He excuses himself, saving you from having to grease the conversation any further. “See you guys around.” He says, leaving.

Jungkook opens the door for you and you drop the snacks on his table. His fingers immediately wrap around you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the bed. “Finally." He mutters pulling you in.

You giggle nervously as he kisses you all over, pulling away from him. He shoots you a confused look. "Wait I...need the toilet."

He throws his head back but moves aside to let you go. "Okay. I'll wait."

Hurrying out, you close the door and run downstairs, rushing past the sea of bodies to the front door. Once outside, you look around scanning the few faces there for him. Hoseok stands around the corner at the side of the house and calls out your name.

The front and back of the house is well lit, but not the sides. Both of you stand in the shadows by the wall, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn't, instead, he looks around anxiously.

"Hoseok, what is it? You said this is important!" You hiss. "I can't be too long, Jungkook's waiting for me."

"Just give him a second, he'll be here."

"Who?"

"He's here." His eyes focus on a man wearing a navy sweatshirt, hoodie pulled up so you can't really see who it is. He only pulls it down when he joins you in the shadows.

"Hi."

"Y/N, this is Seokjin. He works with my friend."

"Oh. Hello." You watch him curiously. If you could describe a smile as being trustworthy, it would be his.

"Thanks for meeting me," he starts, "I’ll make it quick. It's about a case I'm sure the two of you are familiar with. Actually, I'm here to speak to you, Y/N."

"Me?" You ask, worrying.

"As you know we have an agent working undercover. He's seen you around and since you know about this operation, he’s worried you might get too close, given your relationship with one of the suspects involved. We want to make sure you stay out of it as much as possible."

"But I'm not doing anything to jeopardise the operation."

"We know." He nods, "But still, we have to emphasise that these people are dangerous. You do not want to get involved. You shouldn’t know about this operation in the first place, but nothing we can do about that now.”

Hoseok’s eyes downcast and hands hide in his pockets, knowing he wasn’t supposed to reveal anything to you. “He’s okay right?” He asks softly.

“He’s fine. He personally contacted me to speak with you. And he’s sorry he hasn’t answered his phone, it’s too risky.”

“Who’s this guy again? Do I know him?” You ask.

“You already know too much as it is. I can’t reveal the name of our agent. We can’t risk him getting exposed, it could cost him his life.”

Silence ensues. It’s uncomfortable to think about how someone could literally die from an unfortunate slip of the tongue. You wait for someone to diffuse the tension. Hoseok looks like he’s in thought, opening his mouth to speak then stopping. Seokjin beats him to it. “In case it’s not clear enough, your plan ends here Y/N.”

How does he⎼ oh. So that’s why Hoseok looks troubled. You stare him down and mutter through clenched teeth. “You told him.”

“I didn’t mean to!” He spits out. “When Seokjin called me earlier, I got reminded of you. I had to tell him. And I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway, so I got him to come here.”

“Listen. I just want to help Jungkook, that’s all.” You sigh. “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“I get it. Hoseok’s explained it to me.” It’s Seokjin’s turn to sigh. “Doesn’t matter what your intentions are, it’s best if you stay away.”

You look helplessly over at Hoseok, then reluctantly agree with a nod. “I’ll try.”

“No, you see, this isn’t a request. It’s an order. There is a chance you’ll get convicted as part of the group if you don’t keep your distance. Is that what you want?”

“No. But𝄖”

“Good, so we’re on the same page.”

“No, we’re not.” Huffing, you step closer to him. “I’m not doing this for fun. I’m trying to get my boyfriend out of there.”

“I understand. But there’s no telling what could happen. Let us handle it. If he’s innocent, then you don’t have anything to worry about. The most important thing here is that you don’t end up getting caught up in the mess. Do you really want to be associated with criminals?”

“Jungkook’s not a criminal.”

Seokjin holds up his hands in a surrender. “That’s not what I meant.”

Hoseok gulps, gently touching your arm. “Y/N please. Let them handle it.”

“I am letting them handle it.” You say stubbornly before turning back to Seokjin. “Look, I’m just here for Jungkook. Tell that to your guy. I won’t stand in the way of the operation.”

“You do know that this is all off the record?” Seokjin starts, “That means even though our undercover, as well as I, am aware that you’re not involved, if by any chance you’re caught with drugs or anything illegal at the time of the raid, you might get convicted. There will be no records to show that you’re innocent.”

“I understand.”

“Alright.” Seokjin pulls his hoodie back up. Now you can only faintly see the bottom half of his face. “Take care. Remember, no one else can know about this.”

He takes off in quick steps, round the corner and down the street. Hoseok fidgets in his spot, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t make him do this to scare you or anything. Promise.”

“I know, Hoseok.” You smile softly. “But you get it right? Why I’m doing this?”

“Yeah...” he trails off for a moment, then continues. “You saw him earlier didn’t you?”

“I did.” You shake your head with a sigh, “Trust me okay? I’m doing everything I can to help Jungkook, like you wanted me to.”

“I never wanted this. I don’t want you to get hurt if things don’t go as planned.”

“Whatever happens after, I’ll deal with it then.”

𝄖𝄖

Feeling numb, the walk back upstairs feels like you’re on autopilot, barely hearing the buzzing of the crowd. You take a deep breath before turning the knob of Jungkook’s door, willing yourself to forget the last ten minutes ever happened. He’d read you like a book in this state.

But your bright smile is wasted on an empty room.

“Jungkook?”

𝄖𝄖

The next day, you're sitting on the running track, soaked in sweat after a long session of track and field. The coach bids his goodbye as the team continues their cooling down stretches. Hana plops down next to you. “So?”

“What?”

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, picking dirt off of your cheek with her thumb. “You seemed really out of it last night. Barely spoke the whole day today…”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Just thinking.”

You decided not to tell her about Seokjin and everything that was said last night. For now at least. She already has reservations about your plan as it is, telling her about Seokjin would just freak her out even more.

“Jungkook called you yet?”

“Mhm.” Technically it was a text, wishing you good morning with a kissy face emoji. Not wanting to make a big deal out of the night before, you reply as you normally would. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just tired actually.”

She hangs an arm over your shoulder and gives you a side hug. “No more parties for you.”

“Yeah they’re kinda lame aren’t they?” You laugh.

After grabbing your stuff, you’re headed for the locker room. You're too deep in thought to realise the girls on your team giggling around you. It isn't until Hana nudges you then nods to bleachers that you realise your boyfriend is waiting for you. He salutes the other ladies with a winning smile as they walk off, before getting off his butt.

The girls mutter quietly, and you hear the words lucky and they're so cute as they leave you. Hana waves to Jungkook before walking ahead. Jungkook trots down the steps and lifts you in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles, swaying you side to side, “not the first time I have you all sweaty in my arms.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs, then starts swinging your hands as you walk back. “Hey sorry about last night."

"Oh it’s fine. Don't worry about it." You say, with a shake of your head, looking at the ground. "You're a busy man, I know."

"Can I make it up to you? Tonight?"

"Alright." You nod. "I gotta shower first though. And you have to give me a ride back to get some fresh clothes."

"No need to dress up."

"But I want to." You pout and he chuckles.

The sound of whistling and yelling coming from the field gets your attention. It's the soccer team, practice still ongoing. It only just occurred to you that you haven't seen Jungkook there in a while.

"Why aren't you practicing with them anymore? Did you quit?"

Jungkook looks at you with an amused look on his face. "Y/N, I was never part of the team."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks. "I'm pretty sure I've seen you on that field running after the ball."

"Yeah but I was never really on the team." He reiterates. Now you're confused. "I only practiced with them so I could watch you during track and field."

"What?"

"Have you forgotten? I'm on the basketball team."

Honestly, you hadn’t made the connection that it’s impossible for him to be on both the soccer and basketball teams until now. "No wait, you joined them just to watch me?"

"Yes and no?" He shrugs proudly. "At first it was because I got kicked off the basketball team. Then we started dating. I got to see you every practice. Then I got reinstated on the basketball team. And I didn't wanna stop seeing you during practice so I kept going. Until now."

"Jungkook that is𝄖"

"Sweet?"

"Lowkey creepy."

He lets out a tiny gasp with a look of betrayal on his face. "But...I wanted to see you."

You laugh at the utter disappointment he shows and pat his face, though it feels like a light slap, before running off making him chase after you.

𝄖𝄖

Laying on the hood of his car, with his arm under your neck, Jungkook listens to you talk about anything and everything. In your favourite spot, parked by the beach so you get the cool breeze and the gentle sound of waves crashing onto the shore.

He enjoys listening to you talk about your life; what your childhood was like, what kind of trouble you used to get into, your family. It’s like peeling off a new layer every time. Who knew you used to bully the bully as a kid? And let’s not forget that time you got detention for smoking in school but you only did it to get your dad’s attention so that he would stop dating the evil girlfriend who threatened to send you off to boarding school.

“Baby are you...a troublemaker?” He muses and you laugh.

“Well I was. I grew out of it.” You shrug and look up at him. “Kinda.”

“Would’ve never guessed. You’re so shy. And good.”

“Yeah. Once I realised how my behaviour was affecting people’s liking towards me, I changed.”

He smiles tenderly at you, always so full of surprises. You play with the hem of his sweater, then look up at him. “What about you? You haven’t told me anything about your past.”

Not once has he shared his own stories. You never asked because you didn’t want to pressure him. But you’re almost out of stories yourself.

Jungkook looks up at the sky for a while. You sense the hesitance. “There’s nothing much to say.”

“What about...your family? Do you have any siblings?”

There’s no reply, only the sound of the waves crashing and a distant laughter from a group of friends on the beach. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Propping yourself up on your elbow, you see now the faint sparkle in his eyes. Could be the cool breeze making his eyes water. He blinks it away when you stare. “We can talk about other things.”

He smiles as his eyes scan your face before you’re snuggling into his side again. “I like hearing your stories.”

“But I’ve told you everything.”

“What about your first kiss?”

You groan. “I’ve told you that one. It was during camp. He pushed me into the lake after that because it was all a dare.”

“Oh right and then you threw all his clothes into the lake as revenge.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “It was pretty funny.”

He laughs thinking about tiny Y/N lugging a big bag full of clothes and dumping it into a lake as the owner yells in horror. Who knew you had it in you. You’re always so calm and by the book, it’s almost like a whole other person.

“Can you tell me about your tattoo?” You look up at him.

He smirks, turning his head to the side towards the arm it’s on. It’s a tiger head on the upper bicep of his right arm. Made up of shapes, lines, squiggles, it has sharp piercing eyes. It’s beautiful, really. “It’s just something to represent my loyalty towards my brothers.”

You’ve never seen this mark on the other frat boys, so you assume he’s talking about his other group of brothers. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Mhm.” It’s tough to crack him. He never reveals more than what he thinks you need to know.

After a while, you pluck up the courage to ask him about the job. “Have you thought about what we discussed?” You ask softly, playing with his fingers.

“What did we discuss?”

“About the job,” you remove yourself from him again and this time get on your knees, “about me working at the club?”

He sighs, looking at you like the stubborn teenager in your stories. “I already told you no.”

“You won’t even consider it.” You pout.

He smiles, surprisingly. “After careful consideration, I regret to inform you that you’ve been rejected. You don't have what it takes.”

“Rude!” You huff, “I have all that it takes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I’m tough.” You spit out. You strike an awkward pose, doing something weird with your arms. “I have swag.”

It makes him laugh so hard he starts tearing and almost choke on his saliva. Embarrassed, you laugh along, hitting him on his chest. Cheeks hurting from all that, he opens his arms. “Come here you.”

You drop into him, mostly to hide your face in his shoulder. He holds you tight, a content sigh escapes him as he does. “I love you so much.” He says into your ear.

Lifting your head up to face him, he smiles tenderly at you, softly tracing a finger over your face, the lulling movement making your eyes flutter shut.

𝄖𝄖

“You got a problem with me?” Namjoon says to the smaller guy.

Suga smirks bitterly, unimpressed by how the new guy has no respect whatsoever towards him. “I do actually. What’s your deal?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You appear out nowhere, get dispatched to our district. Same area as Jungkook no less...are you trying to replace us?”

“Hey, I didn’t choose the location.” Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe if you guys didn’t suck so bad they wouldn’t have asked me to secure the bags.”

He braces himself as Suga lunges forward, shoving him against the wall, his collar bunched up in clenched fists. Surprisingly strong for a small dude. “You don’t come work for us and talk shit about us to my face.”

Namjoon tugs on his clothes, pulling them out of Suga’s grip. He clears his throat and tries to calm himself. “My bad. Next time I’ll do it behind your back.”

“What are you up to? You took a job on campus, why? Jungkook’s already got that covered.”

“Like I said, I didn’t choose to. I was sent there.” He steps forward, making Suga take a few steps back.

“Liar.”

“Look if you have a problem with it, take it up with the lieutenant.” Namjoon walks off, angering the other guy even more. The nerve of this new kid makes his blood boil. There’s something off about him, there’s no way the bosses would send a new guy in for no reason.

He stomps his way into Kyun’s office, slamming the door behind him. Kyun looks up, sees him, and goes back to his laptop. “What?”

“Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that RM guy?” Suga says, pulling up a chair.

“No. Why?”

“He’s so full of himself.”

“Name one person working here that isn’t,” Kyun says, “besides, you should be thankful I assigned him to you. Jungkook’s been slacking.”

“I told you, the school’s keeping an eye on him. He’s taking it slow.”

Suga can’t remember how many times he’s used that excuse. He can’t come right out and admit that Jungkook has in fact been slacking. Or rather, distracted. Not to mention the time Jungkook considered leaving all of this behind. It’s no surprise the lieutenant’s picked up on it.

“Whatever.” Kyun mutters, obviously tired of having this conversation.

“Wait,” the wheels in Suga’s head turn and he looks curiously at his lieutenant, “you’re not doubting Jungkook are you? Did you send RM in to replace him?”

“If Jungkook’s doing a good job like you seem to think he is, why would you be worried about this?”

Suga purses his lips, “He’s fine. He hasn’t missed any of his shifts. I couldn’t have gotten shit done at the club without him.”

“Numbers are still low though.”

“That’s because you’ve got the new kid stealing all his buyers.”

“RM’s good and the staff there seem to trust him. He stays.”

“Fine. Then get off Jungkook’s back about his numbers. He can’t sell drugs the same as before if you have another dealer there competing with him.”

Kyun thinks about it for a minute, then nods. “Alright fine. Anyway, it’s good that you’re here now. I can run through what boss wants you to get up and running at the club.”

It hits Suga that Kyun having doubts about Jungkook is bad news, at least, if word travels up the hierarchy. While Jungkook had promised to keep up, Suga intends to make sure he actually does. He can’t afford anymore slip-ups. Or distractions, in the form of you. He can’t let anything happen to Jungkook.

𝄖𝄖

Sneaking back into the house at such an ungodly hour, you guide Jungkook in the dark, careful not to make a sound.

Back in your room, his jacket and shirt are the first to go. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, lips not parting from each other.

Slipping under your shirt, he unhooks your bra and pulls your shirt with it over your head. Lips smiling on yours, his hands knead your breasts and you feel your nerves reacting. He trails wet kisses down your front, fingers undoing your jeans and pulling them off in a single swoop.

He removes his own pair of jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Then, kneeling by your legs, he gently peels your panties off, taking in the view of your naked body, lighted up by the warm yellow of your nightlight. If he could, he’d engrave this image of you in his head.

His eyes wide and lustful, they trail over you. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

Hovering above you, he strokes the side of your face, before pressing his body to yours in a soft gentle kiss. He moves so gently, like you could break at any moment. When your hands wrap around his neck, he grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You let out a soft whimper.

Jungkook takes his time, showering your skin with kisses. Starting from your neck down to your navel. He licks one side of your breast, teasingly drawing circles with his tongue along the nipple, then gives the same attention to the other. Your breathing gets hitched in your throat, feeling the blood rush down south.

He brings his mouth lower, hands now occupying your breasts where his mouth was. It sends you butterflies the way his hot breath brushes against your skin. There’s something different about the way he’s touching you tonight.

He spares some kisses down your inner thighs and watches the way goosebumps appear as they try to clam up reflexively.

Hands on your thighs, he pushes them apart and runs a teasing lick over your folds. Then his tongue finds its way to your clit, flicking it gently before his lips wrap around it and he starts gently sucking. You jolt and take in a sharp breath grabbing a fishful of the sheets.

His fingers delicately touch your folds, running a teasing finger over your entrance. Looking up from between your thighs, he watches the way you steady your breaths, eyes closed, brows furrowed.

It doesn’t last long and when you open your eyes, he’s hovering over you, licking his lips. Very eagerly you pull down the hem of his boxers, exposing his hard cock. His own fingers wrap around it, stroking himself gently as he reaches for a bottle of lube. He stares at you with a look you can’t read.

“Something on your mind?” You voice out.

He shakes his head with a gentle smile and takes his position between your legs, your thighs over his. Aligning himself with your entrance, he grips your ankles on either side. Slowly, he enters and you will yourself not to make a sound at the initial stretch.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace, watching intently the way he moves in and out of you. You can’t help but to stare at him and the way his abs clench every time he moves his hips into you. The flexing of his arms every now and then, keeping your legs steady. And the way the warm light casts shadows dancing over his body as he moves.

“Jungkook.” You call out for him, so softly.

He releases your ankles and leans forward, resting his body on yours. Pressing his forehead to you, he admires the look of lust in your eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip. “Yes, my love?”

Your fingers run over his face. You’re too occupied with the pleasure of him inside you that your brain refuses to put your thoughts into words. He chuckles when you only manage a breathy smile instead.

Your wrists get pinned over your head once again, and he watches you from above. Every thrust is deep and filling, his hips moving expertly to give you just the right amount of pleasure, leaving you a hot mess beneath him.

You look absolutely breathtaking to him; the parting of your lips, eyes shut and shaky breaths. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. He lets out a low guttural sound and presses his body to yours, devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hips pick up speed, grinding into you with calculated moves. You get lost in each other, a mixture of your quick breaths filling the room. The look in his eyes is mirrored in yours, waves of emotions flowing between both your bodies and soul.

Jungkook can’t describe his feelings for you. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; warmth, love, trust, acceptance. All he knows is to tell you he loves you and hopes you get it.

Your eyes get misty as you let your own emotions get to you, feeling the twinge in your chest when you look at him.

Arms wrapping around his waist, your tongues dance between your lips. He knows all the right spots to leave you breathless. You feel it building in the pit of your stomach, and pull away from the kiss, no longer in control of your actions.

Jungkook feels it too, sensing the pressure between your hips as they wrap tightly around him. He steadies himself and gives you long, deep strokes, as he watches your breaths get quicker. The euphoric look on your face earns a grunt of approval from him.

Not wanting to hold back any longer, his hips grind into yours at a quicker pace, feeling himself reaching his release. His mouth latches on to your nipple, sucking it for a second before he hears small whines leaving you, signalling you’re close.

Willing yourself to keep your eyes open, you place a hand on the side of his face, making sure his eyes stay on yours. It gets blurrier with the way tears start to fill your eyes. “I love you.” You blurt out in a whisper and he rests his forehead on yours as he thrusts hard, one which makes your insides squirm.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you. A single tear rolls down the side of your face as you start to reach your high. “I love you Y/N.” He breathes out against your lips before capturing you in a kiss. With one hard thrust, you find yourself succumbing to the pressure in your middle, unravelling a wave of pleasure that courses through your entire body, chest rising towards him and hands keeping him close.

Watching you, he reaches his own climax, hips bucking wildly into yours, and you feel his warm release spilling inside you, his moans lost in the kiss. It takes a while before his hips slow down into a gentle rhythm. Your body goes limp as you ride it out, drained of energy.

He catches his breath with his head on yours and when you finally catch each other’s eyes, you share a giggle. He shines in his afterglow, a look of pure bliss on his face. But he could say the same for you, thumb running over your cheek to wipe off the tear stains.

In that moment, it feels as if you’re staring right into his soul. He stares back at you, as if trying to say something more than what’s been said, worrying once again about conveying what’s in his heart. But you just smile back.

“I know, Jungkook. I know. I love you too.”

#jungkook fics #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #rainworks #my #hope you like it :(

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blps · 4 years ago

Text

Are you having fun?

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre: fluff! (And maybe also stranger to why am I stuck with you to oh nevermind I guess you are nice to hang out with to oh shit I think I caught feelings) anybody got a name for that trope??

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: Your friend’s crush has four tickets to an amusment park, and so while your friend and her crush pratically abandons you with the none other than Sakusa Kiyomi

a/n: Wow thos is my longest fic, I think Sakusa is a bit ooc in this because of how fast he warms up to you but THIS IS FICTION SO WHO CARES haha ok anyways enjoy!

///////////////////////////////////////

You couldn’t believe you agreed to this. Currently in a car, hearing your friend besides you thanking you for tagging along and rambling about her perfect crush, you looked outside the window, thinking about how comfortable your bed was and how you wished you could have stayed in it.

But of course you had to agree to your friend’s offer. The pleading in their eyes made you feel guilty if you said no. She really liked him and you were pretty sure he did too. The both of them were just too shy to initiate the first move. So what could go wrong? Well the fact that you were going to arrive at 8am on a saturday morning was the problem.

And so with your little sleep hours you had, you encourage yourself to do this and make sure that your friend and her crush end up confessing by the end of the day.

One of your worries was the fourth person. Your friend informed you that you wouldn’t be third wheeling, another person would accompany you, wasn’t that wonderful? No. Doing first interactions with a new human being was nonexistent on your list of favourite things to do. Will you and them click off and could enjoy a day together? Or will it be awkward the whole time? What if you both will not get along? So many questions you weren’t so eager to find the answer.

Your friend parked the car, giving you a blinding smile as she got out of the car. You wanted to at least not ruin her first date so you switched your moody morning self to the ‘I totally want to socialise with you’ persona.

As you got out of the car, the sun warmed your skin from the fresh breeze of mornings. You walked behind your friend as you met with what would be the crush and your companion for the rest of the day.

Your partner for the day turned around, and you were just in awe of his beauty. He was tall, more than 6’. His dark hair curled nicely, perfectly framing his face. Well, the partial part you could see anyway as he was wearing a mask. But if that mask didn’t further accentuate his beauty then you didn’t know what else will. As you got closer, two beauty marks were more noticable and that was the last straw. He just took the prize for the most beautiful man effortlessly; it almost made you angry.

He introduced himself with the most soothing voice. You gathered yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you greeted him properly and his friend. The four of you then entered the amusement park, ready for a day of ups and downs.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You knew it would end up like this. As soon as your friend and her crush had a map of the place, they immediately left you and Sakusa alone.

It was silent between the two of you. Guess he wasn’t that much of a talker. You took a map for yourself. You were about to ask what he would like to do when his words cut the silence first.

“I’m not riding any roller coasters.”

Well, that was a really good start.

“May I ask why? Who would come to an amusement park and not try at least one rollercoaster?”, you replied.

“I hate germs and if you were aware, the seats are filled with strangers filth”, his eyes clearly judging you,” I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”

Oh yeah his looks wouldn’t be able to save him now.

“Excuse me? Are you calling me unsanitary?”

“Considering how you touched the rotating metal bars with your bare hands at the entrance, I would agree. Do you even realise how many germs you just touched?”

His look of distaste was the only confirmation that he was in fact, a germaphobe. Great. Who would’ve guessed a germaphobe would be in an amusement park. You really hit the target for the least desirable person to spend a whole day with in your situation.

You sigh as you took your hand sanitiser from your bag and rubbed your hands vigorously, giving him the most infuriating glare you could do.

“Here”, you showed your hands to him,” there now should be 0.01% bacteria, if you don’t want to ride a rollercoaster, fine. At least let’s walk around and look for our friends since you wouldn’t gain more bacteria.”

You turned around, ready to do anything but be alone with the judging look all day. You should at least have a good time when you were forced out of your comfy bed to be here.

With your back turned to him and his face mask on, you wouldn’t have known of that tiny smirk on Sakusa’s lips.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Your plan didn’t go as well as you expected. You and Mr. Nofun were sitting as far away as you could from a bench. You were even surprised that he sat on it. Your friend ran along with your crush to who knows where and so you weren’t able to find her.

Silence once again ruled in the atmosphere. Only the faint sound of rollercoasters and people screaming were reaching your ears. You have texted your friend to meet up, you couldn’t handle being alone with him anytime longer. Maybe you should leave him. Why should you stay? You were fully capable of having a good time by yourself.

“I didn’t expect you to have a hand sanitizer with you.”

This was not the time.

“Why did you even come if you weren’t going to do anything? There really weren’t any more suitable candidates?”

You were both staring each other down, arguments ready to be unleashed when a new sound reached both of your ears.

The great rumbling of hungry stomachs.

Yours to be more precise.

Burying yourself deep in the ground was a very enticing idea right now, until Sakusa’s stomach joined in on the symphony of hunger.

With few words of agreement, you both went to find something to eat.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were both eating, in silence once again. Sakusa finished his bite, and stared at you until your own eyes met his.

“No there weren’t any suitable candidates. No one wanted to spend a day with two lovers at an amusement park. And since I thought I would be alone, I planned to do nothing. I didn’t know you would be here.”

Your temper from earlier calmed down, you finished your bite as you answered back:

“Well fair enough but I still would like to enjoy myself you know? You're not the only one that is forced to be here. I didn’t even get to finnish my dream and next thing I know, I’m out of bed and onto one of the most social places you could be.”

Since his mask was off his face so he could eat, which was both a blessing and a curse, you were able to notice the small smirk forming.

“Well how about you do what you would like? Don’t bother about the others, enjoy your day.”

Well, maybe he wouldn’t be a pain after all.

“You have something stuck between your teeth.”

You spoke too soon.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Aside from his comments, it was actually going pretty well. You had participated in some mini activities and won some prizes. You had gained stuffed animals, a balloon, and more unnecessary gadgets. You wanted to at least try the haunted house but Sakusa refused to go in it.

You were currently in a ferris wheel for a little break, devouring a pink cotton candy while your now tolerable partner was doing his best in trying not to touch the metal security bar.

You let out a chuckle, the both of you arriving at the top.

“I’ll let you use my hand sanitizer. Just hold it if you want to feel secure”, your soft chuckle making his eyebrows furrow.

“It doesn’t work that way”

“Here take this”, you handed him your cotton candy as you searched your bag for your gloves,” here I had these gloves since we would stay to watch the fireworks and it would be pretty chilly at night.”

His eyes reflected surprise as you took your cotton candy back and handed him the gloves. You continued admiring the view and eating the sugar, oblivious to the man besides you who wanted to calm his heartbeat and the pink blossoming coloring his cheeks.

When you were back on the ground and walking around. You spotted one of your favourite activities yet so far. The prize was a living fish and you were just so excited to win one you grabbed Sakusa’s sleeve and dragged him eagerly to the stand.

Time flew by as well as your money. Your wallet couldn’t withstand another round. You just couldn’t beat the game and win the fish. Adding on to that, you felt Sakusa’s annoyance from your back facing him. He was probably tired of holding your stuff.

You accepted your defeat, ready to go, until you felt his presence besides you. His arm extended, cash on his hand.

“Another round please.” The host prepared the booth once again, happy with his earnings. Meanwhile, you prepared to not disappoint Sakusa, mentally forcing yourself to not screw this up. You looked over him, about to thank him. However, he only gave you your stuff back.

“You are so bad at this, let me just show you how it’s done”, his gentle eyes were locked with your surprised ones. It was different from the usual judgemental and disgusted look he had.

Before you knew it, he was facing you again, but this time, he held a plastic bag with a bright small orange fish swimming around.

“Shall we continue, the others are probably searching for us as well.” He kept on walking, not bothering to check if you were following him. Snapping out of your shocked state, you quickly catched up to him, thinking how to thank him.

“Um.. thanks, for winning the fish for me, I-“

“Oh I think you misunderstood,” he smirked, giving you a teasing look, “I won this fish. So I will be keeping it.”

Irritation washed over you. But before you could respond, your name was called out in the crowd. You saw your friend jogging towards you, hand in hand with her crush. At least this day was going well for one of you.

“I’m so glad we found you! We went to the randez-vous point you sent by text but you weren’t there-” She hugged you tight before whispering in your ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t see the text sooner,” before pulling away.

“We were going to our last roller coaster, if you guys want to join us. It’s getting dark anyways, better not be separated again.”

You glanced over at Sakusa, wondering if he was ok doing at least one. He reluctantly agreed, but made an effort nonetheless.

You were walking with your friend, a little behind the others so your conversation wouldn’t be heard.

“I hope you are at least enjoying yourself”, your friend looked at you with concerned eyes, waiting and searching for signs that you would like to leave, “I had a really good time so I wouldn’t mind if you would like to leave, I can drive you home.” You knew that if you felt uncomfortable in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate to take you home safely. However, you didn’t need to go home yet, you could continue a bit.

You considered it. You really did. What was keeping you from leaving? Even if Sakusa was a pain, you somewhat enjoyed his company. No. That couldn’t be it. It must be something else. You convinced yourself that it must be the fireworks.

Ignoring your feelings, you reassured your friend that you were fine. You would enjoy the rest of the day for yourself, not letting anything, or anyone for that matter, to ruin it.

The four of you finally arrived at your final destination. Turns out that no feelings will be ignored. The roller coaster was a lover's tunnel. Guess who’s your partner.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was awkward. You and Sakusa were side by side on the swan shaped boat, not a word travelled between the two of you.

You were alone in the tunnel, the smooth warm lighting meant for couples not helping. If the situation couldn’t get more embarrassing, romantic music started to play and the both of you went stiff.

That was it. Better bicker about something else than being silent. Your heart beated frantically against your chest, a miracle it hasn’t bolted out and left you. You turned your face to face Sakusa, noticing the faint pink on his ears.

“So will you keep the fish?” You shouldn’t have talked, maybe it made matters worse. In this situation, perhaps it was better to keep silent and never speak of it again. But even if that was the case, you shouldn’t make a big deal out of it right?

You were certain you held no feelings for Sakusa. He was mean, teasing, insufferable, never having fun, a germ freak and handsome. Wait no, none of that attractiveness, when someone has an undesirable personality, they appear uglier. But was he really that unattractive or were you trying to convince yourself that even the idea of liking him was impossible.

“I won it. Of course I’ll keep it”, he mumbled behind his mask. The atmosphere was falling once again in silence, besides the music playing.

You dug into your mind to find a new conversation. Or not. Maybe it was his way of wanting zero conversation. You hated this. Your mind was in total chaos and your heart was not stopping anytime soon, it only seemed to increase.

“I haven’t yet chosen a name though. If you want to help that is,” he was still averting his eyes, not completely facing your direction.

The rest of the ride continued with various propositions of names for the fish. And every single one of them ended either with a flat out ‘no’ or a mocking comment.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The sun was already setting, the night sky was ruling above as you sat besides Sakusa and your friend. You were waiting for the fireworks to begin, the final activity of the day. Finally this day seemed to stretch out forever. You were almost at your limit, the hours of sleep you skipped catching up on you.

Even at that, you couldn’t ignore that little sting in your heart at the realisation that this was probably the last day you would spend with Sakusa. He wasn’t the perfect choice, but he stayed by your side and let you have fun. The teasing was a bit annoying, but you enjoyed the insignificant bicker. Maybe if you had more time would you warm up to him. You wanted to continue spending time with him.

Your doubts were invading your mind. Perhaps Sakusa didn’t want to see you again. After all he was mean to you from the start. Did he enjoy your company? He did follow your lead all day. If he didn’t like you, wouldn’t he just go his seperate way?

“Did you have fun?” His question surprised you. You were captivated by his eyes. They didn’t hold the usual teasing look he gave you. You couldn’t quite decipher it, but they held something different this time. But you agreed. You did have fun today.

You knew he was smiling behind his mask. He looked like he wanted to say something,but your moment was interrupted by the loud noises in the sky.

In all but a few moments, Sakusa felt a weight drop on his shoulder. He stiffened, glancing down at your sleeping form. He was surprised you could sleep with all that noise. Your features were peaceful with the colored light illuminating your face.

He let you sleep, not wanting to disrupt your slumber. He had to admit to himself, he did have fun today too.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You woke up in your bed, your mind still urging you to continue to sleep. However you were distracted by the text you received from an unknown number. An image attached to it of an aquarium and a familiar looking fish in it.

Unknown number

We still haven’t found a name

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

a/n: Thank you so much for reading until the end!

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu fluff

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