#thinks about last session where we spent an hour yelling at each other on how to handle an imp that wasn't supposed to be there for that

[wizardnuke]

now a dnd party with a strong bond and synergy is great and all and i'm confident that my party will get there but as of right now only about 5-6 sessions in we've had multiple shouting fights, countless threats, and one instance of pvp. now. i hope this changes. me and one guy are sort of working to fix that. but it's so fun don't discount the joys of you and your friends pretending to hate each other

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Thirteen~

T/W: MENTIONS OF RAPE

Brushing off your thoughts, you waited patiently until your friends arrived. With the timer almost up, you became extremely worried as they had only entered with about a minute to spare. 

You rushed over to them. "Gon! Killua!" you yelled happily.

"Hey (y/n)!"

"Gosh don't make me worry like that! I thought I was gonna have to leave you all behind!" you teased, putting Killua in a headlock and ruffling his hair, laughing at his protests.

With you reunited with your friends, you found out why they spent so much time in the tower. Damn horny Leorio... you thought while walking out of the tower with them.

The examiner explained that for the fourth phase, you would all be travelling to Zevil Island, where you would hunt each other, for your tags of course, by using any means necessary. You drew lots, and your target's tag was worth three points, as was your own. You needed six points to pass the phase. Anyone else's tag was only worth one point.

Pretty soon, you were called up to draw your lot. You had to wait in anticipation as everyone drew one, waiting until the last person drew to pull the sticker off, revealing your targets.

Nerves pulsing through you, you pulled the sticker off, to see your target was applicant number 301.

You looked around. Who is that?  Most people had already taken off their own badge to hide it, but you really didn't see much point in doing so. Coincidentally, neither did Gittarackur, number 301.

Great. I just had to get pinhead huh? Fuck! This is going to be way more difficult than I thought...

Sighing, you started to think of a plan. Unfortunately, you were probably going to have to use your nen, which you were hoping to keep a secret just a little bit longer.

You were so immersed in forging a plan to get his badge, you didn't even notice the sly clown that was looking over your shoulder at your target number.

"I could help you if you'd like," he said over your shoulder.

"No thanks. Don't need it," you replied, ignoring  the way his proximity gave you butterflies, how his scent invaded your nose, clouding any hope for clear judgement. Ignoring that how he offered you help made a blush creep across your cheeks, and definitely ignoring how you had hoped he would continue pestering you.

You even ignored the letdown you had felt when he walked away.

Making your way onto the boat that would take you to the island, you chatted with Gon and Killua about your pasts. 

You learned that Killua was from the infamous Zoldyck's, the long time and all powerful family of assasins. You also discovered that Gon was determined to find his father, Ging Freecss, whose name you had heard been mentioned once or twice.

"Tell us about your past, (y/n)!" Gon said excitedly.

"Yeah we know almost nothing about you," Killua added.

"Heh, well you're not the only one."

The boys stared at you confused, waiting for you to continue. Standing up and leaning against the side of the boat, you took a deep breath, inhaling the calming smell of the saltwater below.

"You see, I'm from Meteor City."

"Meteor City?" Gon asked.

"Yes. The city where no one exists. I grew up there by myself. I had almost no friends, no allies, basically no one on my side. But, I did have one person who I could rely on. Someone I could trust," you took another breath and sat back down beside them, ready to dig into your past.

"Basically, my parents had me for the sole reason of becoming the best assassin in the world. They started training me the second I was born. I went through gruelling torture sessions, hours of intensive training, along with some emotional abuse when I didn't learn something fast enough, or when I made a mistake."

"I don't remember much about who my parents were in general, but I always remember sneaking out late at night to meet up with Kiri, my best friend. We had met the first time I ran away. She had been scavenging for food, and we quickly hit it off. We had a designated meeting spot, a secluded ruin of a building."

"Almost every night, we'd meet up there and stare at the stars, or just lay in silence and bask in the comfort of each other. That is until she was killed. After that, I was completely alone until I met you guys."

"One night, I had just been hurled a flurry of curses and swears thrown at me from my father. Stuff like, 'You'll never be good enough!' and 'Stop being so pathetic and take the pain!' It was after I couldn't take any more of the chains, the whips, the stabbing, electrocuting, and had passed out."

"When I had arrived at our spot, Kiri was on the ground, bloodied and barely alive, clothes ripped up. There was a group of mafia men standing over her, one of which was just doing his pants back up. That's all I really remember before I saw nothing but red."

"Before I knew it, all the men were dead, their heads torn off by yours truly. I had run over to her, to see if I could even say sorry for not being there to protect her, but she was already gone. I just hope she saw that I killed them, I killed them all!"

"I should have been there! I should have just left a little earlier, and she-"

You stopped as Killua threw his arms around you, and Gon wiped a tear off your face.

"It's not your fault, (y/n)," Killua said solemnly as Gon silently agreed.

"Yeah, I guess. I just, I need a minute," you said, brushing past them and finding a bathroom.

Finally getting the chance to be alone, you broke down in the small bathroom. You sobbed, sliding against the wall. 

I could have saved her. I should have saved her. It's- it's all my fault...

Letting yourself break a little more each tear, you slowly stood back up after you heard the bell ring signalling the ship's arrival.

Looking in the mirror, you despised what you saw. The puffy eyes. The red cheeks. You were not weak. You didn't cry. You looked down at your hands, squeezing the sides of the sink. No remorse. No remorse, you chanted in your head, almost like a mantra. Squeezing so hard, you broke the porcelain of the sink and looked up at yourself one last time, anger rearing it's head. You punched the mirror, shattering it, shards of glass embedding themselves inside of your knuckle.

You left the bathroom and went back to the main deck, ignoring the looks people gave you. Hisoka was already gone, and you were next to leave.

When the girl called your name, you walked towards the forest, knuckles dripping with blood, hoping to see at least one person. You needed to kill. 

Killing wasn't something you enjoyed doing, but it was something that you had been trained to do. Something comforting, almost, and whenever you did it, you felt it brought you closer to Kiri.

Not realizing how far you had walked, you hopped into a tree and waited for the poor victim who you would see first.

239? Your lucky day. 

You jumped out of the tree and onto his shoulders, ripping his head off like a feral animal.

[missluckycharms]

What about nobody knows their secretly dating, but they’re always flirting. So one day all of their Friends are at a club and y/n gets on the dance floor and starts twerking and Harry comes up behind her and starts grinding and tapping her ass and all there friends are whistling.

This Little Secret Of Ours.

A/N: hiii! I made this into a best friends brother! Harry blurb and I also changed a few things. I hope you don’t mind! Enjoyyy !!

**I will be getting around to all your requests in the next few days, please be patient !! Thank you !! **

Warnings: suggestive content, mature language, alcohol consumption, Harry is a cheeky lil shit.

It started when Y/N was nineteen and Harry was turning twenty one. It was never meant to happen, but what could she do? She was attracted to him, and he was to her.

They have a connection that you cannot look past no matter how hard it would be for them to be together, they needed to make it work.

And they did, they’ve hid it from everyone for nearly two years now. No one even suspects the pair is together, they never leave anyone have any suspicion on if they might be together. They even go as far as having some little fake argument just to keep up the “we hate one another” image in front of all of their friends — Y/N’s best friend being in that friend group, Harry’s sister.

The only way that this works between the two, is because Harry has his own flat, he bought it recently and Y/N as basically moved in, she’s rarely at her shared flat with her other best friend — always saying she was visiting family for days at a time, but she was really hiding out in Harry’s small one bedroom studio apartment together, cuddled up under blankets away from the world.

Every Friday their friend group has a tradition: they all meet up at the local night club and catch up on their lives, talk about their week, have some drinks and just have fun. As they’re older, their lives are getting more hectic and they have less time together, so this little meet up each week gives them the chance to feel like teens again.

Today is like every other Friday, Y/N is in Harry’s getting ready, the pair fighting over the one bathroom, Harry running in ahead of her for a shower as she “takes too long” and she “has to shave her bits and bobs!” And it “takes for ages!” Y/N always fires back with her usual response: “you’ve long hair too! You don’t see me complaining when you take ten years to apply your hair masks and then give two washes of it all!”

That small argument happened nearly an hour ago, Harry laughed back and slammed the bathroom door in her face as she stands in only his bath robe, her towels in hand along with a new packet of razors she picked up on her way over here. She rolls her eyes and huffs turning around to head back into his bedroom.

“Might want to give it twenty minutes m’love, I used up all the hot water” Harry says calmly, walking out of the steamy bathroom in only a towel slung around his waist and another towel drying the ends of his long curls. Y/N looks up from her phone, her eyes narrow as they only have three hours to get to the club.

“This is why I go first!” She yells out, flopping down onto the bed in annoyance at her boyfriend who’s laughing while running some curl cream through his wet locks, his eyes focused on himself in the mirror.

“Gives you twenty minutes to have some Harry time!” He says wiping the residue of curl cream into his towel, his smile wide as she looks at him from where she’s laying on his bed, her lips in a pout and her brows furrowed in anger.

“I had plenty of Harry time this week, you were like a kid! Barely got any time to even pee!” She yells as Harry just laughs at her angry self, loving how cute she looks when her lips pout and her eyes roll with her pretty eyelashes framing them. He adores her, all of her.

The twenty minutes is spent by Y/N being tickled by Harry as she yelled and laughed loudly while he teased her for being ticklish, her body squirming on the bed as he hovered above her with his fingers tickling her ribcage causing her to loose control of her whole body and melt into a puddle of flailing limbs and loud screeches. Harry eventually let up his tickling, allowing Y/N to finally shower and start to get ready. He’s currently sat on his bed, ready to go in his black and white silk button up, black skinny jeans and some black leather boots. Y/N is currently curling her hair and applying some makeup as she stands in her outfit: a simple black silk dress with black heels.

“Look so beautiful m’heart, love the sparkly straps on your shoes” he points out when she’s finally ready, Harry sliding his phone into his back pocket to get a closer look at his girl, his hands snaked around her waist as he pulls back to rake his eyes up and down her body carefully, his lip between his teeth as he observes her.

“Thank you H, you don’t look too bad yourself. New shirt?” She asks reaching up and tugging on the collar a little, only three buttons done up on the whole shirt leaving his tattooed chest to show through with his many necklaces — what was more eye catching was how sheer the fabric was, allowing his butterfly and other tattoos to be visible when light is shined onto him.

“Bought it last week, more sheer than I thought but hey, who doesn’t want a front row seat to the nipple show? Huh?” He asks shaking his chest at Y/N, her eyes rolling as she slaps his chest playfully as he pulls her in for a kiss.

“Can’t kiss you until we’re back here, which won’t be for like, God knows how many hours” He mumbles against her lips as they kiss one another passionately and slowly, their hands roaming one another’s bodies as they take in every detail of each other.

“You always take me into the bathroom for a quick fuck or a make out session, don’t act like you don’t do that” she fires back with a tug to his bottom lip with her own teeth, a groans escaping his chest at her action, his hands squeezing her ass a little as he pulls her more into him.

“Keep talking like that and we aren’t going anywhere baby” he says lowly, his tongue licking over her bottom lip as she smiles against his lips, her hands roaming his chest, then his stomach and then down to his crotch, giving him a tight squeeze when she feels how hard he’s getting, Harry lets out an involuntary moan at the feeling, his hips pushing into her palm as she licks over his bottom lip slowly as she goes.

“Come on big boy, we have somewhere to be” she says pulling away, fixing her dress and wiping her lipgloss from Harry’s lips, her eyes looking at him innocently as if she didn’t just tease him and get him hard two seconds ago. He groans as she grabs her handbag, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him as she trots towards the front door of the apartment.

“You coming?”

“Unfortunately no” he says sighing, looking down at his erection in his tight skinny jeans, Y/N rolling her eyes at what he means.

“Harry, get out into the cab” she says tapping her foot against the floors, her phone buzzing with messages from the Uber driver that he’s outside and not waiting any longer than five minutes.

“Fine” he sighs, grabbing his house keys and sulking his way towards the cab, Y/N apologising for the delay and Harry just pouting like a toddler beside her as they head off to their night out with all their friends.

—

The night has gone smoothly, Harry and Y/N sitting at opposite ends of the table they’re all sharing in the booth, their eyes catching one another’s every few minutes but their slight eye fucking flies under the radar due to how dull it is in the club. Their friends are chatting, laughing and singing as they all sip their drinks and talk about nonsense, Y/N being dragged into conversation about how her job as a florist is going by her best friend Jada, while Harry is dragged into a conversation by their friend Chase about nonsense due to his drunken state — Chase loves to pre drink and now he’s drunk as fuck.

Harry is nodding and smiling along to Chase’s words, his fingers fiddling with his beer coaster in boredom, all he wants to do is have drunken chats with Y/N about nonsense like they usually do when they drink at Harry’s place, the pair having a bottle of wine each as they dish out random facts and stories from their childhoods and Harry’s one year long college experience — he dropped out because he couldn’t handle not being around Y/N, she was too far away from him and plus, his dorm mate was a nightmare.

He’s brought out of his small daydream of half listening to Chase while also mumbling along to the words of the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the packed nightclub, by his phone buzzing in his back pocket, he takes it out and keeps it under the table on his lap, looking down to see a notification from Y/N. He doesn’t look up as he opens it, his eyes widen at what the message says.

Y/N: mind if I shake my ass on the dance floor?

Harry: don’t you dare, your ass is mine and mine only. Don’t think about it baby love.

He looks up to see her looking at him, her lip between her teeth as she locks her phone, him mirroring their actions as they stop their small conversation. Her eyes are dark with lust, a tug pulling at the corners of her lips as she leans over to whisper into Jada’s ear. Harry watches her like a hawk, legs spread under the table, arms crossed over his chest and his head thrown back against the wall of the booth as he narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, her own challenging smile getting thrown back right at him.

Jada is the first to move, then Lola and then Y/N, leaving Harry at the other side being sandwiched between Chase and Niall, Niall is currently on the phone trying to speak to his landlord about a busted pipe in his house, but instead of going outside he insists to stay in here, he has a massive fear of missing out. That’s Niall for you. Harry watches Y/N like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her body as she holds onto both Jada and Lola’s hands, their smiles wide and they mouth along to the words of the song,

Her eyes are on him every now and then, her hips swaying as she dances with her friends, others around them dancing aswell as Harry doesn’t take his eyes off his girl on the floor, the lights flashing about and illuminating her every now and then as she moves to the beat of the song.

Harry’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees her bend over and begin to shake her hips, causing her ass to jiggle about as Lola and Jada spur her on, slapping her ass a little as she laughs loudly, looking over to Harry who’s now stalking his way to the dance floor, pushing past the crowd of people. Jada nearly slaps Harry when he picks Y/N up by her waist, flinging her over his shoulder as she laughs loudly, Harry shaking her head as barely anyone on the floor recognises what’s happening due to how dark it is, Jada and Lola following hot on Harry’s heels as he carries their best friend like a sack of potatoes back to the booth.

“What was that for?!” Jada yells slapping her brothers chest and bicep, her brows furrowed in anger as Harry now holds Y/N close to him his hands around her waist as they both look at Jada with small smiles.

“She was showing off what’s mine” Harry says with a smile, looking down at Y/N who scrunches up her nose with laughter, pecking his lips lightly as they both finally get to show love to another in public, in front of everyone.

“I knew it!” Niall yells nearly falling over the table, Chase whistling and clapping as he nearly passes out due to how much he’s moving right now.

“Only because I told you!” Lola fires at Niall who rolls his eyes looking at them all, Jada stood beside the pair not knowing what to say.

“We all had a feeling, we were just waiting for you both to say something; there’s only so many times we’ll believe your bra just some how ended up in Harry’s car” Jada says rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N burying her face in Harrys chest in embarrassment over the story.

Jada hugs the two, immediately running up to order a round of shots in celebration of the new couple — well, not that new, but now they’re officially together in the eyes of everyone else. They couldn’t be happier and they couldn’t be more grateful that Jada didn’t lose her shit.

“Guess this little secret of ours is out, huh?” He whispers to her, her smile wide as she looks up at him with her arms slung around his neck holding him close.

“I guess so, boyfriend”

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

All My Firsts Were With You (K.SM)

Warnings : suggestive, swearing

Word Count : 2487

Synopsis : they grew up together, practically attached at the hip. they were each other’s first kiss, first time, first love, and if it was up to seungmin, she would be his last as well.

“I think the only thing I’ll miss is you.” She smiled at her best friend, holding back the tears that wanted to fall so desperately.

           “Don’t be so cheesy.” He replied, lightly poking her shoulder. She let out a laugh that almost made Seungmin’s heart stop beating. He studied her upturned smile and sparkling eyes, wondering why he suddenly felt warm.

           “I should board now. Don’t want to miss my flight. I’ll call you later!” She hugged him quickly, and in the next moment she was gone. And that’s when he realized; he’s in love with his best friend.

           She was standing in front of him, the same smile she always had adorning her face, the same face he fell in love with. He had to pinch himself to check if it was a dream, having her right in front of him, close enough to touch. “I missed you.” He was silent, studying just how much she’s changed in the three years she was gone. Her hair was longer, and she seemed to have lost a bit of weight, but she was still the girl he loved.

           “Seungmin!” Jisung called, throwing his arm across Seungmin’s shoulders. “Who’s this?” He smiled at the beautiful girl in front of them, holding out his hand for her to shake.

           “Y/N.” She smiled, sliding her hand into his.

           “Jisung. How do you two know each other?” Jisung looked between the two of them, wondering exactly how Seungmin, the same guy who never looked at a girl, knew this absolute goddess.

           “We grew up together.” Seungmin said before she could say anything. “Nothing special. Let’s go before we’re late.” He shrugged Jisung’s arm off his shoulders and took off in the opposite direction of her, leaving her standing there absolutely bewildered. She thought they’d always be best friends, but it seems like Seungmin had other plans.

           “How did you nail that choreography that quickly?” Felix exclaimed; his eyes widened in amazement at the new girls talent. “I’ve been practicing that routine for weeks now.” He added, walking over to her with a water bottle for her to drink from.

           “It’s not that hard when you break it down. Here, let me help you.” She handed the bottle back to him after taking a sip before immediately jumping into the routine, taking it slower to help Felix.

           “I did it!” Felix yelled in excitement, catching the attention of other students using the same studio. The two spent the last hour working out the kinks of the routine before Felix finally nailed it. “Oh shit, I gotta go meet my friends for lunch.” He said as he looked at his phone. “Why don’t you come with? Unless you already have lunch plans.” He smiled his infectious smile at her, and she couldn’t help but agree, grabbing her things and following him out of the room.

           “Hey Y/N!” Jisung beamed as he saw her walk up to the table he was sitting at, Felix looking between them wondering how they already knew each other. “I’m guessing you’re a dance major.” She smiled as she took the seat across from him, Felix sitting next to her.

           “Yeah. Dance has always been my passion.”

           “Listen, I’m sorry about Seungmin earlier. He’s not good around girls.” She giggled, telling Jisung it was okay.

           “I disappeared for three years, I can’t just expect to come back and everything is normal.”

           “I swear Professor Park has it out for me.” Seungmin cut off their conversation, slamming his lunch on the table, collapsing in the seat beside Jisung. “I studied my ass off and I only got a 92.” She smiled to herself while listening to her old friend rant, happy to know that some things do stay the same. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked when he finally met her eyes. His voice was cold, so different than the way he used to talk to her. It was as if they didn’t spend everyday together, experiencing all their firsts with each other, and it broke her heart more than she’d like to admit.

           “What’s wrong?” Seungmin asked her, cupping her face, and wiping her tears away. “Who made you cry?” His heart broke more and more with each tear that fell down her cheeks.

           “The girls in my class. They keep making fun of me for being 16 and not having my first kiss. It’s so dumb, but their words really hurt.”

           “Hey, look at me.” With his hands still on her cheeks, he angled her face to meet his eyes. “It’s not dumb it if hurt you.” He gave her a soft smile, wiping away another tear. “If it makes you feel better, I also haven’t had my first kiss.” He chuckled when her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”

           She sat there, studying her best friend’s handsome face, coming to a conclusion she was too afraid to say out loud. She knew why she hadn’t had her first kiss, and it’s not because guys didn’t like her like the girls assumed. It’s because of all the guys who confessed to her, none of them were Kim Seungmin. “Would you be my first kiss, Minnie?” She pouted, looking up at him.

           “You want me to be your first kiss?” She wanted him to be her first everything, and if she was lucky enough, her last as well.

           “Only if you want. I’d be your first kiss as well, so if you wanted to save it for-“ She was cut off by his soft lips pressed to hers. The shock quickly wore off and she kissed him back, taking in the feeling best she could, not knowing if she’d ever feel it again.

           “First kiss completed.” He whispered, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand still on the back of her head. And in that moment, he not only became her first kiss, but her first love.

           “So you and Seungmin grew up together?” Felix asked her the next day. They agreed to meet up at a café just off campus and walk to class together. “What was he like as a kid?”

           “Pretty much the same way he is now, but he was nicer.” She giggled. “He’s always been worried about his grades. If it’s not 100% then what’s the point.” She quoted words he told her many times throughout high school. She remembered sitting with him while he studied, amazed at just how smart and organized he was.

           “Was he always this cute?” Felix chuckled. She quickly pulled out her phone, showing Felix pictures of the two of them she had saved; some of the pictures taken from a photo album, whereas some she transferred from her old phone.

           “He’s always been handsome, yes.” She answered, heat rising to her cheeks when she realized what she had said. Three years was not nearly long enough to get over him.

           “Are you sure about this?” Seungmin asked as he hovered over her. Both of them were breathing heavy from the heated make out session they just shared, that slowly led them to the bed they were on now.

           “You’re the only one I trust enough.” She answered. Her arms were lazily wrapped around his neck, and she looked up at him with stars in her eyes. Seungmin could get lost in the galaxy she held in her eyes, and if he’s honest, he has many times.

           “It’s my first time too, so we’ll figure this out together.” He smiled before pressing his lips to hers again, melting into the kiss while he reached under her shirt.

           The next morning, she woke up wrapped in Seungmin’s arms, a feeling she could get used to. She smiled at his sleeping figure, tracing over his face with her finger, studying each part in detail. She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see him this close again, so she was going to take in as much as she could. “You’re tickling me.” Seungmin mumbled with his eyes still closed.

           “If you’re awake, we should get breakfast.” She laughed, trying to move from his arms, but his grip only tightened, bringing her closer to him.

��          “Ten more minutes. Just give me ten more minutes like this.” The feelings he thought he got over in high school were slowly returning, and he just wanted to hold her close a little longer. Mornings didn’t seem so bad when he woke up next to her. He hoped for many more just like this.

           But it was at that breakfast that she told him she was leaving. And within that moment, she was his first time, and his first heartbreak.

           She started spending more time with Felix, meeting him at the café every morning before class, and joining him for lunch, where Seungmin would ignore her existence as if she wasn’t there at all. She knew that the friendship she once shared with Seungmin was completely gone, and she knew it was her fault. If only she didn’t leave, then maybe Seungmin would still be hers.

           “Hey, Y/N, right?” She turned to face the stranger asking for her and was met with a handsome man from her dance class, the same one she shared with Felix. He brushed his long, black hair out of his eyes before introducing himself as Hyunjin. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today? I really want to get to know you better.”

           “Oh, uh.” Before she could say anything, Felix was jumping in.

           “That’s perfect! I was just going to tell you I couldn’t do lunch today!” He winked at her. “Take good care of her, Hyunjin.” And with that, he left the room, leaving Hyunjin standing there awkwardly.

           “Looks like my lunch is clear,” She giggled. “Let’s go then.” Hyunjin picked up her bag from the ground before she could, and the two headed for a diner on campus.

           After getting passed the cliché questions, both of them started to open up more, and the conversation flowed better. She found herself enjoying his company, laughing at the stories he told her, and watching as he laughed at the ones she shared. “You and Seungmin seemed to have quite the adventures with each other.” He chuckled, taking a sip of the drink he ordered. “You talk about him a lot.”

           She blushed at the realization that every story she told Hyunjin included Seungmin. “Sorry.” She giggled, tucking hair behind her ear. “It’s just, we spent every day together growing up so all my stories include him.” Hyunjin smiled, shaking his head, and telling her it was okay.

           He walked her to her next class when they were finished eating. “I enjoyed getting to know you. Hopefully we can do this again.” He told her before she could walk into her class.

           “I’d like that, Hyunjin.” She smiled up at him. There was no doubt that Hyunjin was an attractive man, every girl at the school seemed to fawn over him, and maybe if her heart hadn’t been stolen years before, she would too. But unfortunately for her, her heart only beats for Kim Seungmin, even if he hated her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She just wished she could move on.

*

         “Where’s Y/N?” Jisung asked when Felix approached their table alone. A wide smile took over his face as he told Jisung about Hyunjin asking her out. “No way!”

           “She was going to say no, so I told her I couldn’t do lunch with her today.” Felix shrugged. “Her and Hyunjin would make such a cute couple.”

           “Talented too! They’d be the talk of the school.” Felix agreed as Seungmin sat down, asking what they were talking about. “Hyunjin and Y/N.” Seungmin couldn’t help but scoff.

           “As if that would happen.” He chuckled before realizing that she was missing from the table. Though he ignored her when she was around, he had gotten used to having her around again. And honestly, he couldn’t explain why he ignored her. He knew it wouldn’t help rid the feelings he’s had for her for years. They spent three years apart, and he was still just as in love with her.

           “It could. Hyunjin asked her out after class today.” Seungmin froze, his appetite completely gone. “You okay, Seungmin?” Felix asked as Seungmin threw his food back down, packing up his lunch and leaving. “You don’t think Y/N is the first love he told us about, do you?”

           “If she is, why is he so cold towards her?” The two boys sat there, staring in the direction Seungmin walked in, coming to the same conclusion in their minds; Kim Seungmin was an idiot in love with his childhood best friend.

*

         “Minnie, what are you doing here?” She asked when she opened the door, surprised to see Seungmin standing there. His hair was messy, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it, a habit he has when he’s anxious.

           “Please tell me you’re not dating him.” Before she could say anything, he was speaking again. “Please just tell me you aren’t dating Hyunjin.” A scoff came from her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.

           “What does that have to do with you?” She asked, annoyed that her best friend has been ignoring her for months, but now he’s standing on her doorstep, begging her not to date someone else. Not that she could with how in love with him she was, but he didn’t have to know that.

           “Because I don’t want you to be with someone that isn’t me.” She could see him blink back tears. She could see how distressed he truly was over the idea of losing her to someone else. “I don’t have a right to say this, but I couldn’t hold back anymore! I have no excuses for how I’ve treated you these last couple months, but I’m in love with you.” The tears could no longer be stopped and flowed down his cheeks as he continued to speak. “I’ve had all my firsts with you; my first kiss, my first time, my first love, and even my first heartbreak! It’s all been you! And I want to continue having all my firsts with you. I want to have my lasts with you. I want you to be my only because I’m only ever going to want you!”

           She stepped forward, cupping his face with her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs before calmly speaking. “I’m not dating Hyunjin.” Relief flooded over Seungmin knowing he hasn’t lost her. “It’s always been you, Minnie. You stole my heart years ago, and no one else has had a chance since.” He wasted no time in crashing his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her as close to him as he could. This time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

[silverynight]

Praise

Uraraka is right, Izuku thinks as she whispers something about not liking how much Bakugo is constantly insulting him.

"Kacchan is just like that," he says, trying to defend him, as always has. "He looks angry and curses a lot, but he's not bad."

"I don't like how he treats you," Uraraka insists, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I don't like it either," Todoroki cuts in, glaring at the table where Bakugo and his friends are eating at. He's yelling at them about something, but they don't seem to mind.

"You constantly praise him and compliment him and he just calls you 'idiot'," Uraraka mumbles furiously.

Izuku presses his lips together and considers the situation, maybe they have a point; he knows Bakugo likes when people praise him, but he clearly doesn't like it when Izuku does.

Perhaps he should stop at all.

***

He's so exhausted during a training exercise that even Aizawa looks at him and gives him permission to take a break. He sits on the floor next to him and takes the opportunity to take out his notebook.

Biting his bottom lip, Izuku starts writing every single thing he observes about his classmates' quirks.

He smiles to himself when he realizes how much Bakugo has changed; he's getting stronger now and has learned a technique or two in order to make his explosions last longer.

It's amazing; his lips part to say just that (as he always does) but he stops when he remembers the conversation he had with Uraraka earlier. He takes a deep breath and takes more notes instead.

The only good thing is that he doesn't have to stop himself from praising the rest of his classmates.

"That was great, Uraraka!" He says, beaming at the girl as she slowly gets down until she's really close to him. "I can see you can control better your need to puke. Also, I heard you could make a plane float the other day, that's pretty impressive."

Pleased, she smiles back at him before going back to her spot.

Izuku can hear a few explosions in the background.

"Todoroki!" The boy mumbles in awe; this time he's the one to approach since his break officially ended. "That's a whole new level of heat! How many degrees are we talking about?"

"I still don't know," the boy with mismatched hair says, staring back at him with a soft grin. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

"Great! Thank you!" Izuku beams, prompting Todoroki to look away as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

He keeps trying to exercise on his own for a couple of minutes before he gets distracted by Kirishima. He gasps when he realizes the boy can last longer with his body completely hard.

He mentions it out loud, as another furious explosion is heard next to them, and Kirishima giggles, rubbing the back of his neck, almost flustered.

"Thank you, Midoriya," he says, clearly pleased.

There's another explosion, this time louder, followed by a very angry scream. Bakugo has just blown up a huge column of cement.

"That's very manly, Bakugo!" Kirishima comments. Kaminari and Ashido praise him as well, although he doesn't seem to be paying too much attention to his friends.

Izuku realizes he's staring right at him with a frown upon his face.

His lips part, ready to tell him how amazing that was, but stops himself quickly, knowing it'll just end up with the other boy insulting him.

Turning around, he gets closer to Todoroki as he hears a growl, followed by another explosion.

"That's quite enough, Bakugo!" Aizawa scolds him.

***

"Alright. We'll start the sparring sessions today," Aizawa informs, as he walks around the room. He looks at the group quickly before pointing at Todoroki. "You're first. Alright, who wants to go against him?"

"ME!" Bakugo snarls, taking a few steps forward. Nobody is surprised, the blond has declared Todoroki his rival a couple of times already.

"Go, Bakugo!" Kaminari smirks.

"You can do it, Todoroki!" Izuku says almost at the same time. The boy looks back at him with a very pleased, but shy smile. He's blushing. "You have become quite stro–"

Before he can finish the sentence, Bakugo bares his teeth and tackles Todoroki to the ground.

Fortunately, Todoroki has had quite experience sparring so he manages to get Bakugo off by kicking him on the chest. However, he looks really pissed now.

They both do.

"No," Aizawa scolds before they can jump at each other's throats again. "I said sparring. Not dogfight."

He orders Bakugo to step back and chooses Ojiro instead.

Todoroki wins the new encounter pretty quickly.

"You both did great!" Izuku says immediately, already walking towards the boy with mismatched hair. "Todoroki, that was really impressive!"

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course! I think you've also become a little taller and stronger as well! You look ama–"

Bakugo tackles Todoroki a second time that day.

"That's enough!" Aizawa snarls, clearly angry. "Bakugo, get out!"

***

"Did you watch me, Deku?" Bakugo mumbles with a satisfied smile on his face. His team defeated class 1b team in five minutes.

It was amazing to watch. Especially considering that was all Bakugo's plan. Izuku can't help but grin when he realizes that he can actually work as a part of a team.

The frown upon Bakugo's face softens when he notices Izuku's smile.

When Ashido makes a comment to Bakugo about the way he used his explosions to fly on the air, Izuku reminds himself that Bakugo doesn't want an opinion or praise from a "nerd" like himself.

"Jiro! The thing you did with–"

Behind him Bakugo growls in frustration. Ashido is the only one that looks amused by his reaction.

"I was the one in charge!" He stomps in his direction until he's a few inches away from him.

"I... know?" Honestly, Izuku has no idea what Bakugo's problem is now. He wasn't even talking to him!

"Everything was my idea!" Bakugo growls.

"I didn't say it wasn't, Kacchan!"

Bakugo keeps glaring at him, it's almost like he's expecting something else from Izuku, but he has no idea what.

"Whatever!" He huffs, irritated, although he looks a little bit disappointed. He storms away quickly.

***

"I see you have... better control of your quirk now. That's... good."

For a moment, Izuku thinks he's dreaming or that Bakugo is being mind controlled. The rest of the class must be thinking something similar because they all look in utter shock.

They're back in the classroom; they had a training session earlier and spent almost an hour trying to come with special attacks.

Bakugo has turned on his seat to face him, even though his eyes are looking down the whole time.

"Uhh..." Izuku is flustered; he's not used to receive compliments from the other boy. "Thank y-you. You did great today."

The blond doesn't look up, but he nods as the ghost of a smile almost curls his lips upwards.

***

It keeps happening. Bakugo starts giving him advice as well; he gets closer to Izuku after each session and actually talks to him (instead of yelling) about his quirk.

Izuku doesn't understand.

He's also working harder than anyone else, to the point where it starts affecting him physically.

Izuku is amazed by his progress and part of him would like to tell the boy how impressed he is (like he used to) but Bakugo seems to be responding better when Izuku's compliments are not... that enthusiastic.

"Bakugo, even though you're doing an excellent job, you have to take it easy," Aizawa tells him, right after watching him blow up another rock that was on his way.

"I'm fine," he growls, prompting Izuku to roll his eyes at him.

He starts getting worried.

"You need to talk to him," Ashido corners him the next day, making Todoroki narrow his eyes at her. "It's getting worse. He's in the living room now, but he's planning to go to the gym."

"I don't think he'll listen to–"

"He will. Come on, Midoriya!"

Nervous, Izuku nods and shakes his head when Todoroki offers to go with him, he knows he has more opportunities if he goes alone.

"Deku," Bakugo turns his head up to look at him; there are shadows under his eyes. However, he doesn't frown at him.

"Kacchan, uhh... Why don't you take a break?" Izuku smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have surpassed all of us already and–"

"It's not enough."

"What?" Izuku can't hide his concern anymore. "What do you mean? You'll only exhaust yourself!"

Bakugo looks away, clenching his teeth.

"I'm not good enough for you..."

The last thing it's said in a furious whisper, but Izuku manages to hear it anyway.

"I never said that!" He's alarmed and confused. Worried about the way his voice gets louder, he looks around, but realizes they're still alone.

"But it's different now! You don't... praise me anymore!"

Izuku blinks as Bakugo finally gets up from the couch to look at him in the eye.

"I thought you didn't like it! At least when I did it!"

"Are you kidding me?" Bakugo hisses. "All my life I've been trying to impress you!"

Feeling his cheeks like they're on fire, Izuku covers his face and groans.

This doesn't seem real, but it must be otherwise his body wouldn't be hurting from the training session.

"You always yelled at me whenever I complimented you so I thought–"

"I'm sorry," Bakugo cuts him off, voice rough. He's staring at his own feet. His eyes are hidden by his own hair, but he sounds like he's desperate. "I did that so you wouldn't notice how much I liked it. It's not an excuse... I just–I'm truly sorry."

Taking Bakugo's face in his hands, Izuku makes him look up.

"I forgive you," he mumbles, cheeks turning red. When he notices that Bakugo seems relieved he keeps going: "I... didn't say anything to you about your progress for the past weeks... But I have a few notes in my journal if you... want me to read them."

"I'd like that," Bakugo says after a couple of seconds. Izuku has never heard his voice sound that soft... ever.

"Great!" Izuku beams, taking out his notebook. Bakugo sits on the couch, trying to fight the smile curling his lips up. "However... You have to promise to go to bed early instead of going to the gym."

"Fine," Bakugo rolls his eyes. He takes Izuku's arm and pulls him closer to him.

"Wait! How do I know you're not lying to me?"

Something changes in those red eyes, something that tells Izuku their relationship will evolve somehow.

He's not sure he's ready for that.

There's a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, but it's completely different from everything Izuku has seen before. It makes him shiver.

"Well... you can always come to my dorm and make sure I stay there the whole night," Bakugo smirks.

Izuku freezes for a moment, feeling as the blush spreads down to his neck. No. Bakugo cannot be flirting with him, because Izuku doesn't know how to deal with that.

He starts missing the insults and the yelling.

"There's n-no need," he stammers. "I believe you."

"Come here, Izuku," Bakugo takes him by the waist and sits him on his lap.

"Kacchan, wait!" Izuku squeaks, knowing he'll die soon if things keep like that.

"Read me your notes," the blond blatantly ignores him, putting his arms around his waist as he settles his chin over his shoulder.

"O-Okay," he mumbles, giving in.

The others find them just like that when they walk back in the living room. Izuku tries to move, but Bakugo's arms are like they're made of steel around him. He cannot move.

Ashido winks at them.

"Glad to see you're in such good terms now," she giggles before joining the other girls.

Oddly enough, after the shock vanishes, the others keep talking to each other as if nothing had changed. Uraraka gives him a reluctant thumbs up while Todoroki narrows his eyes at Bakugo.

"You promised to read to me, Deku," the boy whispers, pulling him closer while Izuku nervously starts looking for Bakugo's page.

He's not sure if he'll ever get used to this (whatever has changed between them) but he must admit he kinda likes it.

***

Patreon

[kerie-prince]

clumsy

Hermione Granger x fem Slytherin!reader (fluff)

requested: (@chokemepansy) im terrible at requesting because i blank on ideas BUT anything for hermione please <3 take your time ily 💓

warnings: a single curse word, but mainly just soft hours

summary: Hermione has her very first date with you at Hogsmeade (song inspo from Fergie's Clumsy) (pardon my lame ass summary)

a/n: ty for requesting, luv 🥺 hope you like it! i made the reader slytherin just bc of you <3 and yes, i put in an outfit inspo but it's not like the cringy ones from wattpad

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

You came to love the smell of parchment and books. The sound of pages being turned, the feeling of a new book in your hands. You loved them because it made you think of Hermione.

Merlin, you were infatuated with everything about her. The excitement in her voice when she talked about her favorite books, the small paper cuts on her fingers from turning the pages – she didn't mind them as it was normal for her – and the look on her face when she received praise from professors.

She was all you thought about and you wanted to go to the top of the Astronomy Tower and yell out "I LOVE HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER" for the whole school to hear. And you were positive she felt the same. Hermione would refuse to let go of your hands when you walked together from class and on some occasions, you'd catch her staring at you during study sessions. Just like she was doing now.

"Miss Granger, for the last time, I am asking you what are the contents of polyjuice potion?" Snape was hovered over her desk. Hermione jumped in her seat and turned to face the brooding professor. Your Slytherin housemates who sat at the back of class laughed at her startled state as she named the contents. You looked back and glared at them all. When Snape left your table and continued his lecture, you leaned closer to Hermione and whispered as low as you could, “Are you okay? You seem kind of distracted,” you noticed.

“Y-yes, I'm fine,” Hermione stuttered. Snape excused the class and Hermione waited for you to be done packing your things just so she could hold your hand to the Great Hall. “Are we still going to Hogsmeade on Saturday?” you asked.

“Harry’s got detention with McGonagall for ‘ accidentally’ turning Crabbe into a water goblet in class,” Hermione used her free hand to make air quotations, “and Ron’s busy with Lavender that day.” She had a sad look on her face, thinking that they wouldn't be able to go to Hogsmeade after all. You picked up on it and had an idea. “So, just the two of us then?”

Hermione’s chest became warm, “Okay. It's a date.” Your eyes slightly bulged out and to Hermione, you had an indistinguishable smile, “I mean, not like a date date, but a girls date.” You weren't sure if she meant it like that, but you laughed at her stumbling her words. The always composed girl becoming a cute, blubbering mess for you. Not that you knew for sure it was because for you but you’d given it a lot of thought.

She never held Harry’s hand like she did yours unless he was upset about something and she was comforting him. And she certainly never held Ron’s hand. Nor does she ever hug him knowing Lavender would go ballistic. Not that she’d ever want to. He was her best friend, yeah but she had never gotten used to it. They both had an unspoken thing to not hug.

“Sounds fun,” you chirped, “can’t wait for it.” You gave her a lingering hug before going to your table. You sat in between your best friends Pansy and Daphne. Pansy had a smirk on her lips once you were in her line of sight, “Did you finally tell Granger?” You knew what she was talking about and nudged her arm with your elbow, “Shut it.” The two girls chuckled and gave each other knowing looks. “I might tell her on Saturday,” you disclosed.

They had matching shocked faces; for nearly a year, they’ve watched you pace around their shared dorm debate with yourself whether or not to tell her about how you feel. You’d have a sparkle in your eyes every time you talked about her and nearly spent every day with her. They weren't upset about it. In fact, they couldn't wait to see you two together. But you were unexpectedly insecure by thinking of the worst case scenario in which she’d reject you.

“That’s great, Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you. I know everything will turn out well,” Daphne supported. Pansy nodded and pointed to Daphne as to say ‘Me too’. You grabbed the hands of both girls and held them tightly, “Thanks, girls. I love you guys.” You wrapped an arm around both of them and brought them in for a hug. Daphne returned it while Pansy made a fake coughing sound. “I can’t b-breathe,” she exaggerates. You held on for a couple seconds more before letting go and started eating. “Okay, so how is this happening?” Pansy asked.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade together on Saturday,” you inquired. “So the whole lot is going as well?” Pansy was talking about Harry and Ron of course.

“No, just the two of us alone,” you replied, taking a bite of the chicken on your plate.

“You mean, this is a date?” Daphne exclaimed. “We’re going to help pick an outfit, no questions asked.” She had a stern look that dared you to talk back. As sweet as Daphne is, once her mind is set to something, she doesn't budge. You accepted it and was met with her usual warm smile. Inside, you were ecstatic and couldn't wait for Saturday. Your crush has gone on for too long, and you were tired of waiting.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Your dorm mates got you up at the crack of dawn. And by crack of dawn, it was actually 10 am at most. They made you change into every outfit they picked out which totaled in 8. You appreciated everything they were doing, but some of the outfits were too much for a day in Hogsmeade. Daphne picked out tennis skirts with cropped argyle sweaters. Pansy picked short dresses that stopped at your mid-thigh and black wool turtlenecks to go over them. They had completely different aesthetics which is what probably made them perfect friends.

You settled on something casual; a thick striped long sleeve polo with light blue jeans and white trainers. It was going to be a nice spring day and you didn't want to wear something that would be too short and you get cold later. Daphne did your hair in two French plaits and Pansy did your makeup modestly. Once you were done, it was noon and you rushed to meet Hermione for your ‘girl date’.

She took the air straight from your lungs. She looked more breathtaking than the night of the Yule Ball. You distinctly remember being incredibly jealous of Viktor Krum and beat yourself up for not asking her before he did. But now, if he was here, you were sure that the famous Quidditch athlete would be jealous of you.

Hermione’s usually wild hair was tamed into smooth wavy curls that framed her delicate face. She wore a floral print button up that was definitely new as you’ve never seen it before. Or did she save it just for you? Her navy jeans hugged her ankles and she donned light pink flats. And probably for the first time since the Yule Ball, she had mascara and lipgloss on. Casual, but perfect.

Your face was flushed, and you weren't sure if she was also blushing or if maybe she was just wearing blush. “Shall we?” You reached out to grab her hands – her soft hands – and waited for her response. She didn't say anything when she laced her fingers with yours and started walking on the path to Hogsmeade. Hermione was about to say that you looked pretty when she tripped over a small rock on the pathway. “Are you okay?” you expressed concern. She was still holding onto your hand as she steadied herself up, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

You snorted and had to hold the butterbeer in your mouth, “Ron did what?” Hermione laughed as she told you how Lavender exploded on Ron for forgetting their anniversary and when he tried to make it up by giving her chocolates that he got from his older brothers, Lavender instantly grew a huge chin that drooped over her neck. Ron had gotten so mad at them and in unison, they told him ‘Why’d you think we’d ever give you real ones?’

“So that’s why no one has seen her for a couple days!” you noted. She was nodding as she laughed. You could only imagine what it was like to see it in person. Poor Lav. You went back and forth talking about whatever went on since the last time you were together.

Hermione went on talking about a new book she read about over the winter holiday. The way she expressed her emotions and passion for it made you fall for the Gryffindor girl more. When you hadn't said anything, she stopped and lowered her head, “I’m boring you, aren't I?”

You sat straight in your chair and fumbled your words before reaching out to grab her hand from across the table, “No, no, no, of course not. I could never be bored of you, I love you.” Your eyes widened. You didn't exactly expect to let it slip out like that, but you studied her reaction to see if you could leave it at that or otherwise. She sat still with a poker face. “Y-you’re my best friend, Mione–”

“I love you, too,” she confessed. “Huh?” Please, please, please tell me I heard her right. You didn't get to fully process what she said because after a few seconds, she gathered all her courage and reached over the table to give you a quick peck on your lips. It would've been a sweet moment hadn't she accidentally knocked her glass over in the process. Everyone in the Three Broomsticks had their eyes on you, Hermione’s face beet red and lowered out of embarrassment. You tried cleaning the mess and out of nowhere, Hermione ran out. Fuck this you thought as you ran after her.

“Mione, wait!” She hadn't gone far and luckily for you, she listened. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes averted from yours. “Where are you going? Aren’t we on a date?” Confidence had finally kicked in when you asked her. Hermione’s breath hitched. She couldn't see anything in your face that showed you were joking. Because you weren't. “Yes,” she grabbed your hands and started walking towards the other shops in the small village. Until once again, she nearly fell back when she nearly slipped over another rock on the ground. You supported her back up and giggled, “You’re so clumsy.”

—

requests open!

[t0wnspersonb]

Tease (Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader)

Rated: slightly explicit 

Word Count: 2,805

Summary: It’s the summer training camp, and naturally as Nekoma’s manager you attend as well. The ongoing tension between you and a certain captain gets too much to handle, and you find yourself in a compromising position late at night.

Warnings: Bokuto being Bokuto, fluff, confessions, make out sessions, grinding, my shit writing

I literally love all of the Haikyuu boys so much it’s ridiculous. I’m a fucking simp ya’ll. I hope you enjoy this spicy mess. I wanted to try something new compared to my usual fluff I write for this particular anime:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood next to Coach Nekomata as he yelled at Kenma for avoiding the ball once again. You giggled softly to yourself at the second year's expression before writing down quick notes of the game.

 You guys were just beginning the summer training camp, and it was off to a good start; maybe not so much for Karasuno though.

 You hummed softly to yourself as you went to gather up the water bottles and towels for the team, seeing as how the practice match against Fukurodani was almost over. You were crouched down as you were rearranging the bottles when you heard shouting.

 “Y/n-chan watch out!” you heard Yamamoto call out, a stray volleyball was headed in your direction, but you had easily received it, sending the ball back into the court. The familiar sting on your inner forearms was not anything new.

 You had spent countless hours with the team, watching them practice their receives and somehow being roped into it despite being the manager.

 And strangely enough, you were actually quite good at it. 

 “Lev!” Yaku shouted angrily, winding up to kick the first year. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop flailing around!? Y/n-chan almost got hit with that ball! Apologize now!”

 “I’m sorry Y/n-senpai!” Lev apologized, bowing in your direction. 

 You waved him off. Despite how good you were at receiving the ball, there were definitely times where you had taken one to the face. “Don’t worry about it Lev. Although, your receives have been terrible during this game, it makes me wonder if you would have been able to receive that ball if you were in my position. Just something to think about.” You said coyly.

 “Y/n is better at receiving than you Lev.” Kenma said. “And she doesn’t even play.”

 “If we lose this game Lev, you’re going to practice receiving with Yaku until your arms fall off.” Kuroo chimed in as well, his eyes flickering over to you briefly, glancing across your body to make sure that you were actually okay.

 The tall first year was incredibly dejected, causing you to laugh slightly at your underclassmen. Practicing with Yaku was hard work, you knew that all too well.

 “Oh that was good form Y/n-chan!” Bokuto praised from the other side of the net. “You looked good doing it!” he gave you a thumbs up.

 You could see Kuroo scowl out of the corner of your eye and smirked slightly to yourself. “Thanks Bokuto. But not as good as you when you’re doing your crazy straight.” 

 The entire Nekoma team and Fukurodani team rolled their eyes at this. Here we go… they thought.

 Kuroo’s scowl deepened, a glare beginning to form on his face as he stared at the owl-haired third year laughing loudly.

 “I know right? I’m the best!” he cheered loudly at your praise. “Hey, hey, hey! Kuroo let me have Y/n-chan for the day!”

 “For the last time, you have your own managers you stupid owl, leave mine alone.” Kuroo snapped angrily. 

 You bit back a smile as you turned your back to them, finishing up the task you were working on.

 The relationship you had with the bedhead captain was difficult to explain. It had been that way since you all joined the volleyball team in your guys’ first year. The flirting and teasing between you two was nauseating in the eyes of your teammates. They had figured that you guys would’ve started dating already but it never happened. 

 But it was clear as day that you guys had feelings for each other.

 Bokuto had taken a strong liking to you as well when you guys had first met. He thought you were incredibly cute, and a wonderful friend. Which is why he never hesitated to flirt with you, plus it made Kuroo mad and that was even better. 

 You had picked up on that immediately and would shamelessly flirt back with Bokuto because you loved the way Kuroo reacted to it.

 Everyone on both teams began to get used to these interactions whenever they all got together, despite how annoying it was to see their captains bicker back and forth.

 Nekoma had lost the practice match and after doing their penalty you began handing out the towels and drinks.

 Kuroo glanced down at you as you held his water bottle to him expectantly, his long fingers brushing carefully against yours during the exchange. “Thanks pipsqueak.” 

 You rolled your eyes at his nickname and reached to poke him hard in the side of his ribs, he dodged your attack easily and smirked widely as you huffed in anger. His hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

 “Stop that.” you pouted, pushing his hand away, fixing your mused hair. 

 Kuroo ignored the slight race of his heart as he took in your pouty face. She’s so cute, he thought.

 After a couple more practice matches the day was coming to an end. You helped the rest of the managers clean up the gym and shuffled off to help prepare dinner for everyone.

 During that time you couldn’t help but think of Kuroo. You wondered if your guys’ strange relationship would finally progress into an actual one. Neither of you had confessed to actually having feelings for one another, it was something that you guys had just assumed.

 In the eyes of the team, and even people outside of the team, they had assumed you guys were a couple. You spent a lot of time together outside of practice and school. Being around each other came naturally, and despite the bickering and teasing, you guys enjoyed each other’s company immensely.

 So then why weren’t you guys together yet?

 “Aw man.” you sighed quietly to yourself, putting your hands behind your head as you continued walking towards the baths. “This sucks.”

 “What sucks Y/n-senpai?” Lev asked. You glanced to your right and saw him standing at the entrance of gym 3 holding a ball.

 “Your receives.” you said bluntly not batting an eye.

 “Eh!? You saw that!?” he panicked, glancing around frantically. 

 It was then that the other people in the gym took notice of your form. 

 “Y/n-chan! Come keep score!” Bokuto said excitedly, coming up from behind the tall first year, Kuroo following closely behind.

 “Maybe some other time Bokuto. Oh. If you guys don’t hurry you’re going to miss dinner.” you said in amusement. 

 “Next time you’ll come and keep score then!” Bokuto exclaimed before they all started making their way out of the gym.

 You shook your head in amusement as Lev and Hinata began talking animatedly about something. 

 “Oi pipsqueak. You coming with or what?” Kuroo called, stopping when he noticed that you weren’t following them.

 You smiled slightly, shaking your head. “I already ate. I’m going to the baths and then going to bed. Do you already miss me that much?” you teased.

 He rolled his eyes at your antics and fought the blush that wanted to make its way onto his face at just the thought of you taking a bath.

 “Maybe I do.” he drawled out and started walking closer to you, his cat-like eyes staring down at you intensely, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You want me to help you wash your back?” he whispered leaning down towards your ear. You could his lips brushing softly against the shell of your ear.

 You could feel your face burn at his words, the palm of your hands getting sweaty at how close he was. 

 Ignoring the burning embarrassment of his words, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down further so that his face was close to yours. “Maybe I do.” you whispered back and very carefully nipped at his earlobe. 

 Kuroo made a strange choking sound as you released him. He took a step back and covered the lower part of his face with his hand, looking away from you. Seeing his shocked expression and blushing cheeks was well worth that embarrassing moment for you.

 “Or maybe not?” you said innocently, hands resting behind your back, your head tilted to the side. “I guess some other time then.” you teased and walked away, finally allowing yourself to blush freely, your heart was racing as you entered the baths.

 Kuroo Tetsuro was going to be the death of you.

 *************

 “Sit next to me Y/n-chan!” Bokuto said, grabbing your arm and tugging him towards the table that Akaashi was currently sitting at. 

 It had been three days since that encounter with Kuroo, and quite honestly, everyone could feel the weird tension between the two of you.

 It was almost… awkward being around the both of you if you guys were together. 

 Kuroo’s gaze trained on the table that you sat at, watching as you laughed freely at Bokuto’s antics.

 “What’s going on with you and Y/n?” Kenma asked quietly, his eyes remaining on his phone.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kuroo sniffed, taking another bite of his dinner. “We’re fine.”

 “Doesn’t seem like it.” Kenma pressed. “It feels weird being around you two.”

 Kuroo looked over at his childhood friend, frowning. “What?”

 “I’m not exactly sure what it is, but the energy around you two is uncomfortable.” he said looking at Kuroo briefly before looking back at his phone.

 “Just eat your dinner.” Kuroo scolded. His gaze lowered to his food. He knew what it was, the energy between you two. It was an underlying thing, but after the incident a couple days ago, well, it got worse. 

 The sexual tension could be cut with a knife when you guys were around each other now. The sexaul frustration that Kuroo was experiencing was released tenfold after your little stunt.

 It also didn’t help that you were still flirting with Bokuto right in front of him. It annoyed him immensely. 

 You were supposed to be his girl. Kuroo thought as he laid awake on his bed. He couldn’t sleep, his thoughts being entirely consumed by you. 

 He sighed deeply to himself as he got up. A midnight walk would be sure to make him tired. 

 What he wasn’t expecting was to find you walking around the school too. You were deep in thought and almost didn’t realize that you were about to pass him until he grabbed at your arm.

 “Can we talk?” he asked seriously, staring down at you.

 You looked up in surprise. “Kuroo, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there… Yeah of course we can.” he released your arm and you guys walked until you found yourselves by the side of gymnasium 3.

 “What’s up?” you asked quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears. 

 The expression Kuroo’s face was unreadable, it made you shift from foot to foot uneasily as he stared down at you. 

 The atmosphere around you guys was incredibly heavy, making you more nervous. 

 “I know I have a cute face and all, but the staring is really starting to creep me out, Kuroo.” you laughed nervously.

 He took a step closer to you, causing you to take a couple steps back, your back touched the side of the gym. He rested his hands on top of your shoulders, preventing you from escaping.

 And then he was kissing you.

 Your eyes widened as you felt your heart stop in your chest.

 Kuroo was kissing you.

 His lips were firm and hot as they moved urgently against yours. 

 This was… this was better than you had imagined. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands sliding up to rest around his neck. You were on the tips of your toes so that the tall third year didn’t have to stoop down so much.

 He grunted softly against your lips as you started to kiss him back. All the flirting, teasing, unspoken feelings, came out in this moment. This kiss was well worth the three years that it took to get it.

 The hands that were resting on your shoulders slide up to cup the sides of your face, carefully angling you so that he could fit his mouth against yours better.

 Kuroo’s tongue gently poked at your lips, asking to be let in. Carefully parting your mouth, your tongues began clashing, hot and wet against each other.

 The passionate kiss that was meant to be used as a confession began to turn into something deliciously sweet and steamy.

 This was too fucking good to stop.

 Kuroo pressed himself closer to you, one leg moving to rest between yours, keeping them parted, his thigh carefully brushing against you causing you to gasp loudly at the sudden touch.

 He smirked against your mouth at the noise you made, moving one of his hands down to your waist, sliding his fingers beneath your shirt.

 His hand was warm and rough against your skin, carefully caressing your waist as he touched you, moving up to the tops of your ribs before gently cupping your breast through your bra.

 Despite the way that Kuroo was kissing you, his touch was incredibly gentle, hesitant almost. But when you moaned loudly, that was all the reassurance he needed to know that what he was doing was okay.

This was what he was missing. What he was waiting for. And he never wanted it to end. The way you felt against him, the way you tasted. He couldn’t get enough of it.

 Carefully squeezing and kneading your breast, he pressed himself closer to your body. Carefully he grinded himself against you, moaning at the way your body pressed against his growing length.

 You pulled away from his lips gasping for air, he trailed his lips softly against your jaw and down your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses against your skin. Kuroo began sucking and biting a bruise into the soft skin, causing you to moan out once more. You were in a daze, your head foggy from the intense pleasure that he was giving you. The Tokyo night air felt incredible against your flushed skin. 

 “Kuroo,” you breathed out, clinging to his body as he continued to touch you. “Kuroo… we should head back now… the others will start to worry…” you lost your train of thought as his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, breathing hotly against your skin.

 “You want me to stop?” he murmured, grinding harshly against you now.

 You whimpered softly. “N-N-No… but… we should go back already…”

 He pulled away from you reluctantly, his pupils were blown and wide with lust. His usual bedhead was significantly more messy, and his lips were swollen and glossed with spit. 

 He was fucking beautiful.

 The same could be said about you. Kuroo took in your heaving chest, the way your shirt no longer sat right on top of your body. Your eyes bright and lips swollen, and the dark mark he left on your neck standing proudly out for all to see. 

 Fuck you were beautiful.

 “Can we… can we do this again?” you asked shyly, looking up at him through thick lashes.

 Kuroo couldn’t help the wide smirk that began to take place on his lips. “If it wasn’t obvious, I like you, Y/n. Go out with me.” he said simply.

 A wide smile began to spread across your face, a hot blush coating your cheeks at his confession. 

 “Took you long enough.” you said cheekily. 

 Kuroo rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. “Whatever pipsqueak. Let’s go.” 

 This training camp definitely was your favorite one so far.

 When morning came around you were over the moon, incredibly giddy and cheeky the entire time that you were setting up the cafeteria and making the food. The other managers didn’t question it but were incredibly curious as to what put the Nekoma manager in such a good mood.

 As always, Bokuto pulled you to his table to eat with him and Akaashi. You were laughing at a story Bokuto was telling, when your hair swayed from your neck and the dark mark that Kuroo had left on you last night was revealed to Akaashi’s eyes. 

 A blush coated the setter’s cheeks and he cleared his throat quietly, averting his gaze. “Y/n-san, your neck…”

 Your eyes widened in horror and you immediately moved your hair back to cover up the mark, you could feel your face burning in embarrassment as Bokuto loudly began to ask what was wrong with you.

 And then - “That’s not fair Y/n-chan! Let me give you one too!” Bokuto pouted as he saw the bruise.

 Both you and Akaashi began scolding the third year.

 Unbeknownst to you, Kuroo was smirking widely at his table as he stared at the interaction you were having with the members of Fukurodani. 

 Kenma’s eyes shifted over to the Nekoma captain. “Gross Kuroo.”

 “Shut up and eat your food Kenma!” 

[triptuckers]

The Necklace - Captain Rex

Request: no Pairing: Captain Rex x jedi!reader Summary: Five times you and Rex have given each other your necklace, and the one time you wear it for the last time Warnings: major character death!!, angst, mentions of serious injuries, burning, blood, bruises Word count: 3.2K A/N: I always wonder why do I do this to myself .. anyway, my brain made me write this and put it out there. I deeply apologise for this feel free to send me ur therapy bills TAG LIST (all star wars fics): @parker-natasha​ @romanoffstarkovs​ @just-deka​

One.

It’s quiet in the Temple. You have to admit it’s rarely crowded in the halls. The Temple is quite a large building, and not nearly enough Jedi to fill it. And even if there were, at least half would be off fighting the war.

You’re grateful for the time you get to spend at the Temple. The long hallways always calm you down. No matter how long you had been away, it always felt good to come home to the Temple where you’d grown up.

It’s the place where you learned the ways of the force, where you’d spent hours reading everything you could find on the Jedi and their ways. You’d meditated in the gardens countless of times, and you’d found your family.

But most importantly, you met Rex.

He knew just as well as everyone else attachment was against the Jedi code. Still, you were pulled to one another by some sort of feeling you couldn’t explain. It made you want to spend every moment you got with him.

As your relationship blossomed, you knew you had to talk about the restrictions. You didn’t like it, but there were just some rules you had to follow, for both yours and Rex’ sake.

It didn’t stop you from occasionally sending a flirtatious wink his way, if only to watch his cheeks flush as he tried to remain focused on his tasks.

You were desperate for some kind of affection outside the safe walls of your quarters. When you were on a planet near the Outer Rim, and you waited as they refuelled your ship, you took the opportunity to check out the local market.

You found a beautiful, handcrafted silver necklace, and you just couldn’t leave it behind. When you got back to Coruscant, you showed the necklace to Rex, and you noticed how much he loved it.

When you wanted to give the necklace to him, he declined, saying it looked too good on you, that he couldn’t take it from you. So, you made a promise. The one wearing the necklace would give it to the one who wasn’t wearing it whenever they saw them, with the promise they’d be there to wear it again next time you’d meet.

Your walk around the Temple takes you through the silent halls. You don’t really notice where you’re going, your mind wandering off to other places. You turn a corner and see a door opening in the distance.

A few Jedi, Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda exit the room, followed by Rex and Cody. You smile at them and they all greet you as they go their separate ways.

Rex is deep in conversation with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody, but briefly stops when you pass him. He takes the necklace off and gives it to you with a smile. You return the smile as you put it on, and Rex continues his conversation with the others while you continue your walk, the necklace bouncing against your chest with every step you take.

Two.

You’ve done it a thousand times before, but landing near a battle is still something that could get your anxiety up. That creeping fear that a well aimed blaster shot could take out your engines and send you to the ground a lot faster than you intended, would never ease.

You hold on tight as the ship starts its landing.

The 501st and the 212th were already on the scene, fighting for their lives. Everyone had thought that they would manage, but that was before the Separatists sent in reinforcements. Because you and your men were closest, you received an urgent comm from Anakin and didn’t hesitate before gathering all of your men and heading towards their position.

Once you’ve landed and everyone has left the ship, you start giving out orders. Even though you’re not near the heat of the battle, you have to yell to be heard over the shouts and blaster shots from others.

You send your men to the frontlines while you take your second in command to look for the other generals and commanders.

As you’re running through the chaos, you’re contacting Anakin. Luckily, he responds almost immediately.

‘We saw your ship!’ he says loudly. ‘We’re on the right side, near the trees!’

‘Copy!’ you shout in your comm and you wave your second din command over, making for the tree line in the distance. You glance at the troopers as you’re running, trying to find Rex. He might be next to Anakin and Ahsoka, waiting for you to arrive. But you know Rex, and it’s also very possible he’s in the front lines.

It takes shorter than you expected to cross the battlefield. When you make it to the trees, you quickly spot your fellow Jedi, and Rex and Cody along with them.   Ahsoka is the first to notice you, and she waves at you as you’re running toward them.

You come to a halt in front of them, panting.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ says Obi-Wan.

‘Yeah.’ you manage to say in between breaths. ‘What’s our status?’ you ask as you take off your necklace and blindly hand it to Rex, who is standing next to you.

‘We’re suffering a lot of casualties.’ says Ahsoka, not taking notice in you giving Rex the necklace.

‘You and your men are much needed.’ says Rex, and you turn to look at him. ‘We’re severely outnumbered.’ he says as he puts on the necklace.

‘We have a plan, though.’ says Anakin, and he starts explaining it.

Three.

It takes you a while to figure out what caused you to suddenly wake. You didn’t have any plans or meetings you had to attend to today, and you had planned on a relaxed morning of just staying in bed.

Your legs are tangled with Rex’, and one of his arms is swung across your stomach. Mornings like these are rare, and you wish you could stay like this forever.

No war, no pain or suffering, no Separatist this or Jedi business that. Just you and Rex, holding each other.

Occasionally, you hear soft snores coming from his side of the bed. You raise your hand to softly run it over his back. It’s only then, that you realise it isn’t his snores that woke you.

You comm is beeping furiously on the bedside table.

For one of the first times, you’re seriously considering just ignoring it. You didn’t have any plans today, you even declined Ahsoka’s offer of a training session, stating you needed your rest now that you didn’t have any formalities to attend. And with rest you meant staying in bed with Rex.

But what if it’s important? Says an annoying little voice in the back of your head.

You groan softly, reaching out to try and get a hold of your comm. You can’t reach it, but you also don’t dare to shift, scared of waking Rex. So instead, you use the Force and let your comm device land in the palm of your hand.

‘Yea?’ you say. It’s Anakin who answers.

‘Hey, Y/N, do you think you’ve got time to go over some maps with me? I’m assigned to traveling with Senator Amidala, she needs to go settle another trade incident. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but these maps sure do.’ he says.

‘Can’t Padmé go over those maps with you if she’s the going to the planet in the first place?’ you ask, not wanting to leave your comfortable and warm bed.

‘She’s on Naboo. I’m supposed to pick her up on the way there.’ answers Anakin.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll come see you at your quarters in a few minutes.’ you say.

‘Thanks!’ says Anakin.

You sigh and throw the comm device on the bed. You look to your side and see Rex is still asleep. It makes you chuckle. You could probably drop a bomb on the building, and the sound just wouldn’t wake him up.

You slowly untangle your legs from his and lift his arm so you can get up. You silently get dressed before hovering over his body.

Kisses are pressed to his cheeks, nose and forehead. Rex only shifts a bit, but doesn’t wake up. You take the necklace off and carefully place it around his neck. With one last kiss, you leave your quarters and head for Anakin’s.

Four.

You exhale sharply when you land on your back.

‘And that-’ says Ahsoka’s voice above you. ‘Is how you take someone out when you don’t have your lightsaber on you.’

A small round of applause comes from the younglings you’re teaching. Originally, they were Ahsoka’s class but she asked you to join her in some examples, and you agreed. Though she hadn’t told you just how many times she was going to throw you on the ground.

‘Impressive.’ you say as you take a hold of Ahsoka’s extended hand and allow her to pull you to your feet.

‘All right kids.’ you say to the small group of younglings in front of you. ‘You’ve seen how it works now. Pair up with someone else and go try it out yourselves.’

They all excitedly pair up and get to work. You smile as you watch them struggle, thinking back to your own training sessions as a youngling.

‘I’m pretty sure we weren’t that small when we were younglings.’ you say to Ahsoka. ‘You were.’ she says, making you raise your eyebrows at her. ‘I’m taller than you.’ you protest, making her laugh out loud.

You watch the younglings for a while, correcting them every now and then. They’re very good for kids their age, and you can tell they’re fast learnings. You’re wondering if one of them might become your padawan, and about all the things you could teach them.

Just as Ahsoka tells everyone to take a break while she explains the next useful movement, the door to the training hall opens.

The clones didn’t train much in the Temple’s halls, but they did on the occasion theirs was too crowded. Or if they had been near the Temple and didn’t feel like traveling far.

A couple of the 501st have entered the room, and you scan their faces for Rex. He’s the last one to enter and you smile at him as he makes his way toward you. When he’s almost reached you, he takes off the necklace.

Just as he hands it to you, one of the younglings gasps loudly.

‘You’re Captain Rex of the 501st!’ he says.

Rex looks at him and nods. ‘That’s right kid. Keep up your training and I might see you out on the front some day.’ he says and the younglings look up at him in awe.

You chuckle at their reaction and shoot Rex a wink. He smiles at you, waves at Ahsoka, and then returns to his brothers to start their training session.

Five.

You don’t get a lot of free time nowadays. So when you do, you use it well. You’re currently in the gardens, meditating.

When you were younger, you didn’t like meditating very much. You would much rather be working on your lightsaber skills, than sitting in one spot of hours.

But as you got older, you realised the importance of connecting with the Force, and you started to appreciate alone time more.

Luckily, the gardens weren’t very crowded when you arrived. You took place in your favourite spot, closed your eyes and slowed your breathing.

After a while, you noticed other people’s presences in the force fading away one by one. Until you could feel no one else’s presence, and it was just you.

You’re unaware how much time has passed, when you sense a familiar presence coming closer.

You smile, but keep your legs crossed and your eyes closed. You hear footsteps coming closer, until they come to a stop right next to you.

There must be no one else watching, because you feel how Rex presses a kiss to your cheek. You then feel something cold be placed carefully around your neck. You smile again and after another kiss to your cheek, Rex leaves again, and you continue your meditation.

Six.

This war had taken too much from too many people. Everyone was tired of it, and everyone just wanted it to end. You were tired, too. You’d seen too many of your friends die, and too many innocent people you couldn’t save.

You weren’t a soldier. You’re a peacekeeper. But you can’t remember the last time you actually referred to yourself as one, let alone feel like it.

Still, the war raged on, like a hot fire turning everything in its path into ashes, leaving nothing but grief and sorrow behind. The war was unforgiving, merciless, swallowing everyone and everything in its path.

You couldn't stand by and watch anymore. Especially when all the fighting got too close for your taste.

You'd been sent to a planet you visited a lot when you were a child. It was a peaceful, neutral planet. Until the Separatists came to claim it. The planet's original inhabitants didn't have the proper training or recourses to fight, so the Republic sent you and your men there.

When you got to the planet it was nothing but chaos. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the planet for its strategic location. It seems they would do anything to get their hands on it.

Including wiping out an entire race of people.

You couldn't let that happen. You had been right there to see so many people get injured or killed because of the Separatists. You wouldn't stand by and watch yet another peaceful planet be taken.

The Separatists were using a new kind of droid, one that could follow orders all at once because of one single command center. You'd sent your men to keep fighting on the front lines, and to protect the people.

You would disarm the command center, so their commands couldn't get to the droids on the battlefield.

But you weren't an expert on shutting down such a massive command center on your own. While thinking back to all the happy memories you made in the past when you visited this planet, the only option you could think of was to blow up the entire command center.

You didn't have any explosives on you, so you decided to fling both of your lightsabers into the power generator. At the time, you didn't even know if it would work. Turns out it did. Maybe it worked a little too well.

The blast was enormous. You successfully blew up the entire command center, and your men could pick the droids off like target practice.

But when your second in command didn't hear back from you, he sent a few men to go and look for you.

They found you near the center of the blast, severely injured and barely alive.

They rush you back to the ship and on the way back to Coruscant, while the medical droids aboard the ship do the best they can. But they're losing you, and it's unwise to move you at this point, so they keep you aboard the ship.

Having heard of your state, both Anakin and Ahsoka rushed to the ship you're on in the hangar.

They watch anxiously as the medial droids fuss over you. Ahsoka can see your body is as good as lost, but she can still sense your presence in the Force. It's all she can hold on to.

Meanwhile, Anakin is trying to get a hold of Rex. He'd been suspecting something was going on between you and his captain. He figured if anyone needed to be there, it's Rex.

'Yes?' says Rex when he finally answers his comm.

'Rex, you need to get here.' says Anakin, voice slightly breaking as he talks. He was so terrified to lose you.

'Everything alright, sir?' says Rex.

'It's Y/N.' says Anakin.

Rex is quiet for a while.

'Rex?' says Anakin.

'Where is she?' asks Rex, and they can all hear how he tries to keep his voice steady.

'On the ship in the hangar. They just arrived but they can't move her.' says Anakin.

'I'm on my way.' says Rex.

Anakin knew for a fact Rex was nowhere near the hangar, but he arrives there in mere minutes. He must have ran all the way here.

Ahsoka stops Rex before he can enter the room you're in. Rex is breathing heavily, pressing a hand to his side which is aching from the sprinting.

'Rex.' says Ahsoka softly. 'She's not-'

But Rex doesn't let her finish, he pushes her aside and enters the room.

He nearly breaks at the sight of you. Rex blindly reaches for something to steady him as he stumbles on his feet, and Anakin catches his arm.

Rex' eyes fill with tears as he looks at you.

This is not how he remembers you. This is not how you looked when you cheerfully waved him goodbye as your ship took off.

The robes you always wear are covered in dust and ashes. There's burn marks all over them. On some places, the fabric of the robes was completely gone, showing the burn wounds on your skin.

The side of your head is crusty with a mixture of dried blood and dirt. One side of your body is littered in bruises, from where you must have hit a wall.

'There was a blast.' mumbles Anakin. 'She blew up the generator and disarmed all of the droids. She saved an entire planet from the Separatists.'

Rex presses a hand to his mouth and mumbles something in Mando'a which Anakin doesn't understand.

He slowly approaches the bed, one hand reaching out to hold yours. His other hand is clutched around the necklace he wears.

This wasn't happening. You still had to win the war, get your own apartment for the two of you, tell war stories to new friends. This couldn't be the end of your story. This couldn't be his last memory of you.

Rex lets go of your hand to stroke your cheek.

Anakin and Ahsoka leave the room, giving Rex a moment of privacy.

'Wake up, mesh'la.' says Rex softly, voice breaking at almost every word he says. 'Wake up so I can give you the necklace. You promised you'd always be there to take it from me when we'd see each other.'

And you do wear the necklace one more time. Rex slid it around your neck, and buried it along with your body.

And every battle he fights in the future, he does in the name of his beloved General Y/L/N. There was no reason to keep it a secret any more. He'd dedicate every single fight to you. He owed you that much. He kept your memory alive.

Every night, his heart aches because of the absence of your shared necklace. The absence of your love, and your promise to always be there.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[kafka-ish]

richie tozier gets off a good one | r.t.

“This was not to say Richie could not be very funny from time to time; he could be. When referring to verbal zingers and farts, Richie’s terminology was the same: he called it Getting Off A Good One, and he got off Good Ones of both types frequently...” -- Stephen King

word count: 3.3k

warnings/included: nsfw (explicit smut, oral -- male receiving, male x female, mentions of masturbating), fem!reader

a/n: pls enjoy ! 

-

It was a cold shower kind of afternoon as the thunder from outside Richie’s bedroom window roared loud enough to be mistaken for a dragon. Dragons don’t exist. Richie, however, ignored the booming sounds of nature from outside—his thoughts lost in a certain someone; and his ears muffled by the pillows encasing him.  

y/n was coming over for a study session at two p.m. sharp, per Wentworth’s request, but Richie still had time as his left hand traveled to the zipper of his orange, corduroy trousers. It’s not like Richie knew y/n. This afternoon, this shameful afternoon where if his dad were home right now, he’d be caught with his hand in his pants and a name he’d rather not talk about in between his lips, would be his first time meeting the girl.

Wentworth Tozier was the one to suggest she come over on this grey Sunday afternoon during Thursday’s family dinner when he noticed Richie’s recent report card.

“A C in chemistry?”

“The C stands for Chemistry,” Richie said with a smirk on his face. It didn’t seem to work because Mr. Tozier’s frown didn’t budge, and Maggie Tozier only sipped her coffee which had to be cold by now.

“You know we expect better from you.” He was right. His parents weren’t used to anything other than a line of A’s on the weekly transcript he brought home. Richie wasn’t either. But lately, something had taken a toll on his grades—or someone.

“You know what might help him, dear?” Wentworth looked up from the chicken he was currently cutting through. “A tutor.”

“I do not need a tutor.” Richie dropped his fork which was being used to play with his green beans.

“Your grades say otherwise, kid,” Wentworth countered. “You know, Maggie, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Not you too, Dad!” Richie cried out, exasperated at the scene playing out in front of him.

Ignoring his son, Wentworth continued, “In fact, I think my buddy back from Catholic school has a kid who could tutor him.” He took a bite. “Last I heard, she was fairly good at the sciences.”

“You should think about calling them after dinner,” Maggie said without looking up. Which was how Richie ended up with only an hour left to get himself off rather than the rest of the day.

Although his hand was no match for any of his previous hookups, it was faster, and it got the job done. He was just about to finish when the doorbell rang and a knock on his door startled him from his position and kept him from finishing.

“Coming!” Richie yelled; certain that the outsider wasn’t going to hear him. He stood up from his position on his bed, pulled up the trousers that hung from his ankles and trekked his way downstairs. His feet made a thumping sound as they padded their way down the stairs—roughly at that. He was surprised the house didn’t shake at his footsteps. “We don’t want your Girl Scout cookies,” Richie said, half annoyed that his session was cut early.

“I’m not a Girl Scout.” y/n held open the door with her hand before Richie could close it. She wore a white button down that was haphazardly tucked into a blue-green, plaid skirt. Her already see-through blouse was even more see-through, as the rain from standing outside for so long had drenched it from the outside in.

“Oh.” Richie didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t order a pizza, either.”

“I didn’t bring you a pizza, either.” y/n was growing just about as annoyed as he was. “Can I just come in?”

“I don’t know about that one, toots.” Richie made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Pops said I’m not allowed to let strangers in.”

“Richie, please, just let me in,” y/n seethed. She didn’t have time for his bullshit and quite frankly, he didn’t either. If Richie let his grades take another blow to the one-inch margin, his C would threaten to turn into a D. “Your dad called mine on Thursday… I’m here to… tutor… you.”

Richie noticed how her voice had lowered and he could tell she was just as ecstatic as him for their study session. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the front door, allowing y/n some space to walk in. His eyes inadvertently glued themselves to her backside, watching as her skirt’s pleats swayed against her hips and the rain’s water trail against her long legs; a sight he’d swallow at and feel himself grow semi-hard to.

If all the girls at Catholic school looked like y/n, he might just have to transfer because just one glance at her made Richie forget all about the reason for his tragic C that stood for Chemistry.

“Where are we studying?” y/n asked. Her eyes darted around the place like it was foreign. It was foreign. Her hands clutched the book bag she held onto tighter, anxious by the new atmosphere.

“Is my room okay?” Richie asked, already starting up the stairs. His tone had gone soft, like when you microwave butter. He almost felt bad for protesting against the idea of being tutored just a few short days ago.

“Yeah.” y/n followed him, making sure to leave an appropriate amount of space between the two bodies.

“Do you need a change of clothes?” Richie said, not trying to cover up the obviousness in his voice; that he was obviously looking at her covered chest each second she spent turned away from him; that he had an obvious hard-on that he hadn’t bother to conceal under his ridiculous corduroy pants.

“No,” y/n said with a bit of uncertainty. Sure, she was soaking wet from her hair to her toes, but she wasn’t about to borrow one of Richie Tozier’s ridiculous band-tees that would wear like a dress.

“What’s with the get-up, anyway?” Richie smirked. Before he sat down, he pulled out an extra seat for her. Usually, it would be used to discard his dirty clothes on. Luckily, Maggie Tozier had taken the liberty of cleaning up before their guest got here.

“Laundry day,” y/n sighed while sitting down her bag next to her. She brushed out her skirt as she sat down so it’d cover as much of her bare legs as fabric would sparingly allow. Her skirt was drenched, and she was sure it would leave the chair just the same as if she stood up any time soon.

“Don’t have to wear that thing tomorrow?” Richie couldn’t help but think about all the other girls who’d be wearing the same outfit on Monday. Of course, their blouses wouldn’t be overly exposing, but their legs would still be bare and long—longing for Richie’s stare if you catch a drift.

“Aren’t you failing something?” y/n snapped back.

Richie swallowed the rest of the words lingering in the back of his throat.

“I was thinking we start with the basics.” y/n bent down, searching for the green folder she had marked ‘Science’ in thick, permanent ink. Richie couldn’t help but steal another look at her figure—outlined by the white shirt that clung to it.

“Basics?” His voice cracked, but he was too caught up in her to care.

“Well, what do you need help with?”

“Nothing.” Richie scoffed, not letting some girl he barely knew deflate his ego.

“Then why am I here?” She countered. Her eyebrow raised, unimpressed, and her fingers started to drum anxiously against the wood of his desk.

“Right now, we’re going over stoichiometry,” Richie shrugged, not bothering to meet her eyes—her bright, keen eyes he’d find himself lost in if he weren’t careful. “It’s not the math part I need help on it’s the—”

“Concentration.”

“Yeah.” Richie let out a heavy sigh. He already knew what y/n looked like—beautiful, while water droplets kissed her neck that he itched to touch. It wouldn’t hurt to steal yet another glance, he thought, while turning towards her. “It’s like I can’t focus,” he said, finally making eye contact.

“And you need help with that?” She questioned. The familiar feeling of anticipation welled in the back of her throat but there was no telling why.

“I guess.” Richie’s eyes left hers to stare at the wall. The view was less impressive, but it let him form a cohesive thought.

“I think I know a way.” y/n’s demeanor had completely changed by now. Richie was about to mutter out a how or what the hell are you talking about but the words in his mind scrambled together like the eggs his mother made that morning when he felt her hand travel down to his knee.

y/n’s touch was light and delicate—almost nothing as it grazed against the fabric of his jeans. But it was there. He felt it, and if he didn’t, his imagination must’ve been pretty goddamn realistic for running at a hundred hertz a minute. Her thumb ran circles against the corded pattern making his breath hitch.

“Uh, what’cha doin’?” Richie’s eyebrow rose at the hand on his pants which was making its way to the zipper.

“Helping,” she insisted, “if you’re having trouble focusing, you’re probably stressed, right?” Richie could only nod. “So, this will help you unstress.” He gasped at the sound and sight of y/n undoing his zipper. His eyes widened and she found herself smiling at his movements from such little touch already.

Richie was quick to roll his jeans, and the underwear underneath, to his ankles. His eager length stood hard and erect against his stomach and if it weren’t for his lack of social awareness, he’d be embarrassed to be seen bare in front of a girl he just met.

y/n’s right hand—timid but daring—wrapped itself around the base of his cock, eliciting a groan from Richie’s now parted and perfectly pink lips.

Surprise wouldn’t even begin to describe the swirl of emotions that found themselves in the pit of Richie’s stomach and began to bubble in his throat—another groan. Though, as surprised as Richie was, he couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of pleasure and yearning for more as he harshly swallowed at the feeling of friction and tightness y/n managed to spring upon him in one firm jerk.

She was on her knees now, the feeling of hardwood against bare skin didn’t seem to faze her. All her attention was on Richie. The sound of unsteady breaths from above had y/n’s cheeks flushed and panties in a heat. The only cohesive thought in her mind was wanting to hear those pretty little noises coming from Richie’s pretty little mouth again.

y/n didn’t need a mirror to know her pupils were blown, the sight before her that she couldn’t quite look away from and the uncomfortable feeling between her legs was enough, letting her realize what she was doing. What was she doing? Her grip on his length loosened as she moved her hand up and down, allowing for enough space for her mouth when she connected her lips to his dick.

“God. You feel great, toots.” It only took a few motions for Richie to already come lax at the feeling of y/n’s mouth. He wished it were another part.

y/n chuckled to herself. Having this much power over a boy made her feel… confident. No guy at her school would give her the time of day, it seemed—not even Jeremy Fields. But Richie Tozier… Richie Tozier was practically falling apart at the sight of her and y/n loved that. Richie felt her pace around him speed up and y/n felt herself grinding on her palm to meet his same high. The sight of her alone was enough to have Richie on edge.

“Sugar, if you don’t stop I’m gonna—” His heavy pants were enough to cut him off, but y/n took her chance to interrupt further.

“—You’ll what?” She pulled apart from him, a string of saliva connecting them. Richie almost whimpered at the warm feeling of her mouth provided—gone.

“I’m gonna bust before I can take care of you,” he admitted somewhat bashfully. His face was red, and y/n couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the fact that he had been worked up.

“Oh.” Back at her shy state, y/n ducked her head and felt her cheeks heat in a similar fashion to his. “Well, in that case…” y/n didn’t have to finish her sentence for Richie to get a grasp on what she was saying. She began to undo the buttons of the thin, white button up at an unbearably slow pace. She managed to peel the wet material that stuck to her skin gracefully even though she’d been itching to take it off as soon as she put it on.

“Wow.”

“Shut up,” y/n mumbled mindlessly, not daring to make eye contact. Part of her was embarrassed enough at the fact that she was on her knees for the boy she was supposed to teaching qualitative chemical reactions to. Her skirt was next to come off. The plaid fabric fell helplessly fell to the ground as soon as she unzipped it.

“I’m serious. You’re like… hot stuff, hot stuff,” Richie said as soon as she stood up, giving him a perfect view. Her underwear was a scalding red with embroidered flowers that decorated the side of her breasts and hipbone. The matching set was far from innocent, far from what Richie would imagine Catholic school girls to wear.

y/n didn’t say anything—her stomach too full of butterflies and a lump still caught in her throat. Richie could sense her nervousness and pulled her into him. To think, a girl he had met only thirty minutes ago was now engulfed in his arms and half-bare for him.

The rough pad of his thumb drew circles on her shoulder. The slow, sensual movements against her skin was electric and had the two riled up even more as Richie slotted his thigh in between hers for her to buck up against. The feeling of her clothed clit on lace as she dragged herself back and forth on his leg at an uneven pace was indescribable.

“Fuck.” It wasn’t unexpected that Richie broke the silence and occasional gasps. “You’re soaked… so… fuckin’ soaked.” He could feel the wetness from her panties that dripped onto his bare leg and he groaned at the thought that it was because of him.

y/n giggled but the sound of her breathy laughs in his ears didn’t last long as she pressed into him further and latched her lips onto his. It was like no other kiss he’s had before. As for y/n, she’d be ashamed to say it was her first kiss. That is, her first kiss where she felt something.

y/n swallowed the moan from Richie as their lips still locked and their tongues swept over each other.

“You’re like—”

“You are, too,” y/n breathed quickly, not bothering to hear the rest of the words. Her attention was now focused on him—or the lack of him inside her. She grabbed his throbbing length once again, taking barely any time to admire it. “Do you have any?”

“Yeah.” Richie swallowed. He opened the top left drawer of his desk, revealing a box of Trojans which he quickly took a foil packet from.

It was weird. Although y/n knew this was just a one time thing she couldn’t help but feel jealous as the small hairs on her neck stood to attention.

Effortlessly, Richie tore open the foil and slid on the condom. “Ready?”

y/n nodded and bit down on her cheek as she sunk down on him. Patiently, Richie waited for her to adjust to his size and a sign for him to move.

A quick kiss to his lips was it. It was different from the first. Swift, sweet, teasing. Richie wanted more. He wanted more as he thrust up into her and he wanted more as he felt y/n’s fingertips dig into his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt.  

“Unfair that you have more clothes on,” y/n managed to speak through a whine. To which Richie opened his eyes and through hazy lids and lust-blown pupils he saw her panties that were pulled to the side as his dick met her entrance and the bra strap that was making its way down her arm.

Richie stifled a chuckle. “You want this off?” He gestured to the graphic tee that was basically draped over his slim figure.

“God, yes. Take a hint much?” She tugged weakly on the sleeve of his shirt and he pulled away for a second so he could remove it, revealing his smooth chest and delicious collarbone.

Another whine left y/n’s lips as he pulled her in closer again. His speed picked up as he bottoms out, reaching a spot no guy has ever found before. Her left hand his in his hair, gripping at his long locks that only a Rockstar would dare wear and her right hand is clutching his cheek—his freckle-sprayed cheek that relaxes under her soft hands and delicate fingers.

Richie’s hands, however, are in a much more intimate place he realizes as he moans yet again, this time at the feeling of his roots being pulled on. One is on her ass, keeping her from falling off, though it might be impossible seeing as how close the two are. The other is playing with her folds, using the same circular motions from earlier to coax her closer.

“You feel so good,” Richie says as his eyes roll back to his head. “Fuck.”

y/n hums. Her lips can’t help but curl into a smile once the words reach her ears. “I’m close,” she whispers and Richie nods in agreement.

It’s dirty and the total opposite of what Richie would expect from the girl who walked in his door a short hour ago, but they reach their highs together, while the filthiest noise Richie’s ever heard leaves y/n’s swollen lips. He watches her as she cums. Her hair is moussed and sweat shines across her furrowed brows. But Richie Tozier swears he hasn’t seen a prettier sight.

“Fuck, doll,” Richie says in amazement.

y/n’s still smiling as she opens her eyes, but she can’t help but be embarrassed at the same time.

“What?” The question is small, but there’s a certain weight on her shoulders that Richie notices.

“You’re hot.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and y/n wants to smack him right then and there. But she doesn’t. She only smiles back, quickly removes herself from him, and redresses herself with the same pace. Her shirt is only slightly less damp and slightly less uncomfortable, but it’ll do. y/n supposes she could just change into her pajamas once she got home. “What, don’t tell me our session’s over already,” Richie tries to joke.

“Sorry,” y/n sighs. Her backpack is already slung over her shoulder, she didn’t even need to ask Richie for help with her stuff.

“Hey, is this because…” Richie’s large palm finds a home on y/n’s shoulder which she tenses up at.

“No!” y/n’s barely able to choke it out. “But the session was, like, supposed to be an hour, you know? And I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” She’s back to her nervous self again.

“God.” Richie realizes what this is about now. “You’re not overstaying anything, toots. You can stay for dinner if you’d like,” he offers. “Hell, stay forever.”

y/n resists the urge to roll her eyes and opts for the dead skin on her lip instead. “I really have to go. Sorry, Rich.”

The last he sees is her half-smile from her all perfect lips before she slips out the door and into the rain again.

[twistedlymad]

Hi!! I really love your Twisted Wonderland stories!! They make so happy!! I love the way you write the characters! If you’re still taking requests could I plz have a story of MC and the gang playing truth or dare where Grimm asks MC if she has a crush on anyone to get at the boys? And MC won’t tell so the boys try everything they can to see who she likes? I leave the ending in your hands! I understand if you won’t accept this request but if you do then I’ll be so happy!! Ok thanks YOUREAWESOME!!

Okay, let’s settle something first. And that is: I am NOT awesome.

You guys are the true awesome ones! You guys have so many ideas! My inbox is filled with requests of which I never knew could happen! Thank you all <3

Also, I have never fully immersed myself into a game of truth and dare :’) And now I’m writing a story on something I’ve played but not full heartedly. The irony is strong :’)

Thank you for requesting this story! I do hope it lives up to your expectations! Thank you again and have a lovely day!!

What if you played Truth or Dare? (Ft. Grim, Ace, Deuce, Sebek, Jack and Epel) (Riddle, Vil, Lilia and Ruggie are mentioned)

“Fgnaaaaa (Y/N), I’m bored.” Grim said while laying on your lap. You and him were doing your homework in your dorm.

“I know, but, when we finish, we can go out and meet up with the others. I’ll even throw in a can of tuna or two. How does that sound?” You said, trying to coax the furball into doing his homework.

“When you put it that way!! Fgnaaaa!” And the furball was more excited to do his work. You gave him a head pat and continued on your own work.

After about an hour or two, you two had finished your homework. You sighed and closed your book, you turned to see Grim dozing off to dreamland. You shook your head, giggling and gently nudged him awake.

“Come on you furball, it’s almost time to get dinner, we don’t want the others to worry about us right?” You said, picking Grim up and placing him on your head. Grim yawned a little before going to sleep on your head.

You had a nice little walk to the crowded cafeteria, when you arrived, you saw your friends sitting at a table not far from you. They were chatting with smiles on their faces while you went and grabbed yours and Grim’s food. After doing so, you went over to the table where your friends were sitting and sat yourself down.

“(Y/N)!!” The others called for you and you just shushed them. They were puzzled until you pointed to the sleeping furball on top of your head. They looked at each other before nodding and snickering. You smiled and slowly set the sleeping furball down on your lap and took a bite out of your dinner.

“So, how is everyone doing?” You asked your friends and multiple groans were heard.

“Riddle made me feed the flamingos wearing pink again today!!” Ace said with a sigh.

“I had to change the color of roses in the garden to white for the whole day.” Deuce said, taking a sip out of his drink.

“Ruggie-senpai dragged me around the whole school looking for Leona-senpai… Turns out he was sleeping in a tree at Main Street. I wasted a whole afternoon doing that.” Jack said.

“Hah! You guys don’t even know what is true hardship. Vil and Rook taught me on ‘fine dinning’ and ‘proper table manners’ the whole day! I don’t get it! IT’S FOOD SO YOU SHOULD JUST EAT IT.” Epel said, the last part in anger. You patted him gently as a gesture to calm him down.

“Malleus-sama was nowhere to be found when school ended, so me and that stupid Silver spent the entire day searching for him. We could’ve been done earlier if that human wasn’t so slow. I can’t believe he can let Malleus-sama out of his sight!” Sebek said.

“Ehh? Didn’t you also let Malleus-senpai out of your sight?” Epel asked the Diasomnia first year. The latter froze a little.

“N-No. Malleus-sama’s class wasn’t near mine at all today. It’s clearly that human’s fault.” Sebek said.

“Sebek, I’m sure Silver-senpai didn’t mean it. It’s just that Tsu- I mean, Malleus-sama likes taking walks around the school without anyone knowing, right?” You said, in hopes of calming down your friend.

“Hmm… Maybe you’re right, but still-” Sebek tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Sebek, it’s alright, mistakes happen all the time, let it go.” You said and sent a smile to him.

“A-Alright.” Sebek said, going back to his meal.

“You know what? Since you all had such a terrible day, let’s do something after dinner to clear your minds of it!” You suggested to your friends, their eyes lit up after you’ve said so.

“Yea!! But, what should we do?” Ace asked.

“How about a game?” Deuce said.

“What game?” Jack immediately asked. The 6 of you were brainstorming until Epel decided to speak up.

“How about Truth or Dare?” The Pomefiore first year piped up. You all took looks at each other before nodding.

“Sounds fun!” Ace said with a smirk.

“I’m in.” Deuce said, taking a bite out of his dinner.

“W-Well, it is just a game… I guess I’ll join since I have nothing better to do.” Jack said, his ears drooping slightly.

Alas, the only one who didn’t give a response was Sebek. So, you, Ace and Epel looked at him with the most adorable puppy eyes the 3 of you could muster. Jack was slightly confused but he has a gist of what you all were trying to do. Sebek looked at the 3 of you, his face slightly paling.

“W-Wha-“ Poor Sebek couldn’t even finish asking before you cut him off.

“Join our game Sebek!” You pleaded.

“It’ll be fun! We promise!” Ace continued after you. After the two of you had said this, you, Ace and Epel bombarded Sebek with the word ‘please’ over and over again.

“F-FINE! STOP YOUR PLEADING!” Sebek said, finally caving in to you, Ace and Epel’s chants of ‘please’. The three of you high fived each other and did a little cheer. Your cheering just so happened to wake Grim up from his nap.

“Fgnaaaaa…. What’s wrong with you people? Can’t you let a monster like me take a good nap for once?” Grim said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. You giggled and petted Grim.

“Sorry Grim, but we were just excited! We’re playing truth or dare later.” You said, running your fingers through the creature as if you were to groom him.

“Truth or Dare? What’s that?” Grim asked you. You let out a small gasp.

“Grim… You… You don’t know what’s Truth or Dare?” You asked back the creature. He looked at you tiredly and shook his head.

“It’s like, the most common game ever to play with friends! You must’ve heard of it before!” Ace said to the furball.

“No, I have never heard of such game.” Grim replied the orange-haired student with a yawn.

“Well, you can see us play around before joining in later.” You said, handing him a can of tuna. “I remember owing you this.” The furball’s eyes lit up with sparkles.

“Fgnaaaaaaa!! Yes!!!!” Grim did a little happy dance and started to work his way into the can.

“So, where are we going to play later?” Sebek asked you all.

“Not Heartslabyul.” Ace said. “I cannot imagine enjoying the game with Riddle there.”

“Not Savanaclaw either. We can’t have a peaceful moment to ourselves there.” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Definitely not Pomefiore, unless you want our game session to turn into a makeover session.” Epel added on.

“Diasomnia isn’t the best option either. I’m pretty sure Lilia-senpai would interrupt us constantly.” Said Sebek.

“Well, I guess that just leaves my dorm right?” You said, laughing a little. “Then it’s settled then! We’ll have a small game session at Ramshackle Dorm. Now, hurry up and finish your dinner guys.” You ordered the boys as you finished your own dinner.

When they did, you all walked back to your dorm together, along the way, you guys had a nice little chat about what Professor Trein’s homework and how Lucius has a big influence on the class. The cat couldn’t help but meow at the end of each of the professor’s sentence. Ace even made fun of Deuce who meowed along once because he was half asleep then. When Deuce tried to defend himself by saying it was actually Lucius who made the sound and not him, Ace fired back at him saying that he was literally looking at him while he made the sound. Poor Deuce immediately turned red as the rest of you laughed. It’s okay, you comforted him after laughing for almost a minute.

Soon after, you arrived at your humble Ramshackle Dorm. You let everyone into the lounge and you guys started to discuss about the game that you were going to play. You guys decided to draw sticks to see who will go first. In the end, you had drawn the longest stick therefore you would start the game first.

“Alright then, let’s begin! Epel, truth or dare?” You asked your first victim and so the madness had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few rounds of Truth or Dare, you had ended up with Epel being punished to wear a pink dress and his hair was in an up-do. Ace and Deuce had been punished to switch places, their personalities, the marks on their eyes and even their clothes had been switched. Jack was dared to have makeup on his face, from mascara to lipstick, you name it, beauty products littered everywhere on his face, his tail was in a big braid as a dare. Sebek’s whole body was covered in glitter, everytime he moved, glitter would flutter off from his body, he was also punished to speak in hushed tones.

Yeah, let that sink in.

And for you, you just had to be in an uncomfortable pose. You were feeling pretty sore too, who would’ve thought you would have to do the game standing up with only one leg supporting you while one of your hands were stuck to your waist and the other on top of your head. This was a dare made by Sebek out of all people, and you can only leave the pose when someone else calls out your name. So, yeah, you were ABSOLUTELY SORE.

“I think I know how to play this game now!!” Grim suddenly yelled out.

“Final- I mean, good for you Grim! I have to be nice to everyone if I want to be an honor student!” Ace said to Grim, mocking Deuce who was clearly irked by this.

“Fgnaaaaaa! Why wouldn’t I know how to play? I am The Great Grim after all!!” Grim laughed out.

“Well, I guess you should get a turn, go on then, pick a student and ask them Truth or Dare.” Epel said.

“Hmmm… (Y/N) then!” Grim looked at you and you finally collapsed onto the ground.

“Thank you Gri-“ You were cut off by the furball.

“Truth, or Dare?” You looked at him with widen eyes.

“Hmm… I’m never doing dare again… So, truth!” You said, not moving from your position at all because you were too tired.

“Alright, Truth eh?” Grim said, putting a paw underneath his chin to make it look like he’s thinking of something. After a few seconds of ‘thinking’ the furball had come up with the question.

“I got it!!” Grim yelled. “Who do you have a crush on in this school?” Everybody froze.

Grim, no, you just… You just started a war.

“Hey! How about I switch okay? I choose Dare instead!!” You frantically yelled out.

But Grim already made up his mind.

“Alright then, I dare you to tell us your crush.” Grim said to you and your eye twitched. You got to hand it to the furball, that was one smart move.

“Argh! NO! I won’t say anything!” You said, crossing your arms and turning away from your friends.

“Hey! You didn’t let me do anything else than wear this stupid dress!” Epel argued with you.

“Guys, guys, no. If (Y/N) is acting so defensive, it must mean she has a crush.” Ace said. The boys looked at you while you slowly shrunk yourself.

“(Y/N), it is a dare.” Jack barely said for his face was too heavy with the amount of makeup on.

“Yeah (Y/N) come on, tell us! I as the troublemaker need to know because I’m dumb!” Deuce said, mocking Ace.

Truth be told, the boys treated each other like enemies when Grim asked the question as they each wanted to be your ‘crush’, they knew that everyone had spent their fair share of time with you and you must have a favorite, right?

So, with what Deuce had said, it seemed like a direct attack to Ace. And let me tell you, Ace was not happy at all.

“HEY! I HAVE BETTER GRADES THAN YOU!” Ace fired back to his dorm mate.

“SO?! IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’RE SMART IN YOUR EVERYDAY CHOICES!”  Deuce yelled back.

“GUYS STOP.” Sebek said, getting in between them.

“Fine! Just because I don’t want to be covered in glitter as well.” Ace said.

“Hmph! Me neither!” Deuce said.

“Wait… Where’s (Y/N)?” Epel asked out. Everyone turned to where you sat only to find air there.

You see, while everyone was busy watching/stopping the fight between Ace and Deuce, you had sneakily taken off and ran straight for your dorm’s front door.

“(Y/N)!!! YOU CAN’T ESCAPE!!” Epel yelled as he and the others started to run after you.

“NO! FREEDOM IS NEAR!” You yelled and opened the door and ran out of it. As you just left your dorm’s front yard, you saw the boys were already on their way chasing after you. Grim was also with them but he had a spot on Deuce’s shoulder.

So, you ran, with a bunch of ridiculously looking boys on your tail.

“Guys, we should circle her instead, so, split up!” Sebek told his friends. The others nodded and branched off. You turned your head to see only Sebek running at you at full speed. You gulped slightly before picking up your pace.

“(Y/N)! This could’ve been easier if you’ve just did the dare!” Sebek yelled at you.

“Over my dead body!!” You shouted back and took a sharp left at the end of a hallway, leading you to Main Street.

But when you arrived, you saw something pink slowly walking towards you. You widen your eyes as you realized that it was Epel in front of you. You turned your head to the left to find Jack slowly approaching you from that side. Your right was being approached by the two Heartslabyul boys so escaping from there isn’t an option. You also felt a presence behind you and you already knew who it was.

And with that, you were trapped. Escape was impossible then.

Or so you thought.

“Now, (Y/N), be a good little student who accepted a dare and tell us…” Ace said smugly.

“Yeah, no backing out (Y/N).” Deuce continued. You were overwhelmed.

“F-Fine! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” You said, covering your blushing. The boys all thought you looked adorable in that state. Could you blame them? You were looking all flustered and red and adorable while hiding her blushing face. Nothing could stop them from blushing slightly as well.

“Okay…” You said, taking a deep breath. The boys leaned in to you, wanting to hear more of your slightly trembling voice.

“My crush is-“

Ah, you were cut off. By a few voices actually.

“ACE! DEUCE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IS IT?!”

“EPEL! IS THAT YOU?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE EVIL QUEEN ARE YOU WEARING?!”

“Jack!! I need your help back at Savanaclaw!! Leona isn’t helping me!!”

“My oh my, if it isn’t Sebek, you know, Malleus would be disappointed.”

Yes, two dorm leaders and two vice dorm leaders were slowly walking to your group.

“Dorm Leader Rosehearts!” Ace and Deuce yelled to a red-looking Riddle.

“You two! It’s already curfew! If you don’t get back to your dorm in the next five minutes… IT’S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!” Ace and Deuce’s eyes widen and ran at full speed to their dorm.

“Bye (Y/N)!! We’ll see you tomorrow!!” Ace and Deuce said as they ran back to Heartslabyul with Riddle following behind them, but of course Riddle walked slowly instead.

“EPEL!!!” Vil had yelled for his first-year. Epel let out a small groan before turning to look at Vil.

“What?” Your friend responded to his dorm leader.

“What in tarnation are you wearing?!” Vil questioned.

“Are you blind? It’s a dress.” Epel said with a straight face.

“Don’t make me slap you again. Come, we must go back to Pomefiore and get you out of this horrible outfit.” Vil said and dragged Epel away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N).” Epel managed to say while being dragged back to his dorm by Vil.

“Jack! Didn’t you hear what I said?!” Ruggie was approaching Jack. “I told you that- HAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOUR FACE?!?!” Ruggie couldn’t help himself as he turned Jack around only to be greeted with a makeup filled face.

“Yeah, yeah, you need my help right? Let’s just go now.” Jack said, dragging a laughing hyena upperclassman with him. “Bye (Y/N).” Said the wolf to you.

“My… Sebek… What a sight to see you like this.” Sebek froze for a good few seconds before turning around.

“Lilia-sama…” Sebek muttered in a low tone.

“I wonder how Malleus would react to this.” Lilia said and Sebek’s eyes widen.

“N-NO, MALLEUS-SAMA MUSN’T KNOW!” Sebek yelled.

“Then, I suggest you better hurry back to your dorm before he catches you.” Said Lilia with a small smirk on his face.

“We will meet again tomorrow (Y/N)!” Sebek said before rushing back to his dorm.

“Bye (Y/N)~” Lilia said to you before going back to his dorm himself.

After everyone were gone, you let out a breath you didn’t even knew you were holding.

“Fgnaaaaa… I only played one round though.” Grim said, as he plomped himself on your shoulder.

“I think one round is enough for you.” You said and started to walk back to Ramshackle Dorm.

“But seriously (Y/N), who is your crush?” Grim asked with curiosity.

“I don’t need a crush, I have you after all.” You said to Grim, patting his head.

“But but!” Grim asked further.

“No buts, either you stop asking about my crush or you don’t get to have tuna for the next few days.” You said with a stern tone.

“Fine…” Grim said and the two of you slowly made your way back to Ramshackle Dorm.

[stardusttkachuk]

Santa’s Workshop

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, swearing,

Summary: JJ picks up a holiday job, working as one of Santa’s elves. He doesn’t expect to meet another elf there, but isn’t disappointed in who he’ll be working with all season.

A/N: This is day 1 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas. Find other fics in my masterlist

Wanna be tagged? click here!

“You look fucking ridiculous,” John B says as JJ stands in front of the broken full length mirror that JB picked up from a junkyard.

“At least I have a job, asshat.” He fixes his hat on his head, grimacing at the way the tights hug his body. He’s uncomfortable in every place imaginable and is already dreading the 5 hour shift.

“Maybe if you’re a good elf, Santa will bring you a girlfriend this year!” Pope teases.

“You better shut the fuck up before this elf beats you to a pulp,” JJ threatens, fists raised.

Pope laughs. “I don’t think elves are supposed to be getting in fist fights.”

JJ huffs and rolls his eyes. Pope is right. He can’t show up to this job covered in bruises, that would scare the kids even more than he probably already will.

“Will you please drive me?” He asks John B. 

“Maybe you should ask Santa for a car,” John B says, grabbing the keys to the Twinkie.

“Why do you think I even took this job in the first place? Please. I don’t want to be seen in public like this.”

You set your bag in the provided cubby, checking your phone one last time before your scheduled session. When you had signed up to be one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, you were ecstatic. You and your best friend had been doing this for the last two years. But this year, your best friend ditched you for the hot chocolate stand. Really she ditched you for the cute girl who worked at the hot chocolate stand, and now you were stuck working with some kid named JJ Maybank. You crossed your fingers in hopes that he wasn’t some loser like the guy they hired last season.

“Santa arrives in 10 minutes! You better be out there in 5!” Natasha, the showrunner of Santa’s Workshop yells through the improvised locker and changing room. “Where’s your other elf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Well when he gets here tell him he’s a dead man if he isn’t here 15 minutes prior to his shift.” She storms out, clipboard in hand. 

The first day is always one of the craziest. Things don’t settle down until a few weeks in. And by the time they do settle down, it’s already the week before Christmas and they get crazy again. 

“Hi. I’m JJ Maybank. I think this is where I’m supposed to be?” You hear someone say, likely talking to the nutcracker that’s posted outside the green room.

“In there. Find Y/N. You’ll know it’s her because she’ll be dressed just like you.”

You roll your eyes. At least he showed up. Ten minutes late but he did make it.

He passes through the curtains, blonde hair a mess under his elf hat. You’ll have to remind him to brush it before he arrives. You have an extra brush in your bag, but you know you won’t have time to make it look perfect.

He spies you easily, strutting towards you. “I’m JJ. Are you Y/N?” 

“That’s me. You’re late, by the way.”

JJ looks at his watch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m five minutes early! That’s the earliest I’ve been for any job!”

“Natasha’s rules state all workshop employees must be present 15 minutes prior to their shift.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “It’s only ten minutes.”

“And if it happens again, you’re a dead man. So you better be here 15 minutes early next time.”

“Okay but why 15? Aren’t we just sitting around those 15 minutes until our shift starts?”

“It’s for costume malfunctions. Like your hair. It needs to be brushed. If you had been here 10 minutes earlier, maybe we would’ve had time to brush it and make it look better.”

“My hair looks fine,” JJ grumbles, though he does attempt to smooth down the ends with his hands. 

You lead him over to the cubby next to yours, gesturing to it. “Put your stuff in here. And that includes your phone.”

JJ places both his phone and wallet into the cubby. He then takes his jacket off and puts it on top of the two valuable items.

“No one is going to steal your stuff, if you’re worried about that. This place is heavily monitored,” you say. “And no one but Santa’s crew is allowed back here anyway.”

JJ is about to speak when an elderly woman with white hair tucked under her hat enters the room. “Looks like Mrs. Claus has arrived,” he jokes.

“That’s Natasha.” You grab JJ’s hand, pulling him out to Santa’s corner before Natasha has a chance to yell at him for his tardiness.

“So what exactly do we do?” JJ whispers, eyeing the line of children and their parents that seems to wrap around the entire display.

“We help the kids from their parents to Santa’s lap and then back out to their parents again. And don’t forget the candy cane before they leave.”

JJ grimaces. “You mean we have to interact with the kids?”

“Yes. Now smile and act like an elf,” you say.

“How do- ohf!” JJ grunts as you elbow him and immediately reach forward for the hand of a little girl.

“Hi! I’m elf Y/N! And this is my friend elf JJ! What’s your name?” You ask in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m Sophie,” she beams. She grasps onto JJ’s hand and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the face he makes. It’s clear he isn’t a fan of kids and you can’t wait to watch him interact with them for the next 30 days.

JJ pulls his booties on over the tights, chuckling to himself as the bells jingle. They jingle every time he walks. He’s grown so used to the sound now though. He’s grown used to looking absolutely ridiculous in his costume. He’s even grown used to the kids, which he thought was impossible.

But the way Y/N smiles when he coos at a baby or holds onto a preschoolers hand has helped him get over his dislike of the kids. He’d do just about anything to see her smile.

“Ready?” John B asks from the doorway, keys looped around his finger.

“Actually a friend is picking me up,” JJ says, grabbing his phone and wallet.

“What friend? You don’t have any friends besides us.”

“Well that’s very rude of you to think. I have plenty of friends. And her name is Y/N. We work together.”

“Work together or sleep together? Or both. Do you guys like, get it on in the costumes?”

“Ew, no,” JJ scoffs.

“Okay, you know elves is somebody's kink,” John B adds, shuddering as he does.

“I didn’t want to know that. I don’t want to think about that.”

“Okay but Y/N… you like her.”

“No. We’re just friends. We’re coworkers. We work the same shift and she offered to give me a ride, okay? Now can you make yourself disappear before she gets here? I don’t want her seeing your face.”

John B pouts. “Why not? I have a very likable face.”

“Just… please?” JJ asks, but it’s too late. 

The beat up Ford truck pulls up in front of the house. JJ knows it’s hers. On days when they work late and it’s dark outside by the time they leave, he walks her to her car. They once spent two extra hours after work sitting in her car and talking. She even gave him a ride home once, but he made her drop him off down the street. It was too risky for her to pull up to his actual house, especially if his dad was home. 

JJ knows John B is in the doorway when he exits the house. He watches as Y/N waves, a courteous smile on her face. JJ walks to the passenger side, hearing the familiar squeak of the old door.

“Who’s that?”

“John B. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s dating Sarah Cameron right?” she asks.

“Yeah. You know Sarah?”

“Everyone on this island knows Sarah,” Y/N laughs. JJ knows she’s not wrong. Everyone did know the Cameron's, especially after the huge scandal that went down last summer. People don’t typically forget about a murder and stealing of millions of dollars worth in gold.

“Right,” JJ laughs nervously. 

You tear your elf hat off as soon as you reach your truck. Today was a hard shift. Multiple crying kids, lines that wrapped all around the mall, parents who didn’t understand the concept of patience and waiting, and then there was the kid that peed on Santa Claus and made everyone wait even longer while Santa went to change. It was a nightmare. 

If it wasn’t for JJ, today would’ve been the day you quit.

But he insisted on stopping for dinner before you dropped him off, so here you were, sitting at a booth across from him, the both of you still clad in your elf costumes.

You probably looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. JJ was your sole focus tonight. He let you vent to him about the craziness of the day and when you weren’t talking he was telling you about the funniest wishes he had overheard while on candy cane duty. 

“All their missing socks?” You laugh, hand covering your mouth.

JJ nods, laughing harder. “He-He couldn’t understand why the dryer monster needed his socks more than him. He even asked if-if monsters were on the naughty list!” JJ bursts out laughing, as do you. If there was one thing that could cheer you up, it was this.

“Kids got a point,” you giggle. “Why does the dryer monster only take one sock and not both? Do you think he only has one leg?”

JJ nods, his smile wide. “Yeah, instead of one eye he’s got one leg.”

Your laughs die down slowly, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The smile that was forced all throughout the day was now a real one.

“I’ve missed that smile,” JJ says, reaching his hand across the table.

You blush but take his hand without hesitation, lacing your fingers through his.

JJ nervously clears his throat. “Do you think when this is all over, I can take you on an actual date?”

You’re not sure your smile could get any wider. “I’d like that.”

You both stare at each other for a while longer, before JJ can’t wait anymore. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, leaning over the table.

“I’d like that too,” you respond, meeting him halfway.

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @serpentbaby @etoilesnoor @k-k0129 @maybanksbaby @talksoprettyjjx @canibeoneofthepogues @multifixx  @theonetheonlyalexbrown @glux64 @shy-1234 @sleepyhollands @cognacdelights @ilovejjmaybank @blueeyedbesson @cheshirecat107 @myrandom-fandomlife @makebank @ifilwtmfc @obxmxybxnk  @kookkyra @rafej-cambanks @blindedbypeaky @ahiae @repostcentral @midnightzonzz @blxndeprincess @dracosbbygorl @itsagurl @Poguesinablanket @amandaburris @tovvaa @sunnsettee

[doubleshotofsomething]

To Hell & Back

Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”

Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence. 

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

--

Part one [In case you missed it]

----

It's Saturday.

Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.

Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.

Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.

So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.

Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.

"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."

You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"

He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.

You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"

"Accidentally?"

"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."

He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.

It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.

But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.

"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"

You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"

"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.

"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.

"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"

"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."

You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.

"Who are the muffins for?"

They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.

"You coming or not?"

"Let me grab a wine and the keys."

"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."

"I'm bringing the wine."

"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."

"Why are you always so violent?"

--

"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.

You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.

You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."

"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."

"Maybe I just like spending time with you."

Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.

The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.

But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.

Because he just had to have a conscious.

"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.

Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.

Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.

One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.

He didn't have one.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"

"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."

At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"

"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."

"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."

"Wow."

"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"

He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."

"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."

Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.

He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.

He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.

But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."

"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"

"Oh, fuck you!"

***

You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.

An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.

Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.

You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.

"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.

Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.

He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.

Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.

Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.

"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."

The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"

"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"

"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"

You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."

He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.

It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.

Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.

"I hate your brother-in-law-"

"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."

He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"

Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.

"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."

You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.

"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"

You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.

"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"

Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"

He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"

"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."

Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.

Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.

The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.

He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.

If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.

"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.

You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.

"If Captain, why Wings?"

Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."

Again, you obey the silent instruction.

"Where were we-"

"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”

"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."

"And you know this because?"

"I like to always be prepared."

"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"

You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."

He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.

You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.

That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.

"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."

You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.

The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.

He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.

He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.

Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.

You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."

It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.

"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"

"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.

---

Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ , @arctic-duchess​

[lemonzestywrites]

sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

paring: buck x eddie

word count: 2,268

tw: panic attacks, implied claustrophobia 

[ao3 link]

_____

Buck has never been a fan of the dark. Especially as a child, the thought alone had brought along too many nightmares and memories of running to Maddie’s room to make her double-check for monsters under his bed. It doesn’t bother him as much anymore, but still, every now and again, on nights where his anxiety is all too present for his liking, the same twinge of uneasiness will find itself scratching away at his brain.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, but that itch has been sitting at the base of his subconscious since he’s clocked in for his shift, and now Buck can’t help but be on edge. He tries his best to ignore it and go on with his day, but the next 12 hours tick by with a foreboding weariness he can’t quite place.

The hospital only makes it worse. The plain white walls, the PA system going off every other minute, the frigid cold that sticks to his skin, he hates all of it. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that wonders if it’s just the result of having been admitted so many times. It doesn’t feel like all too sure of reasoning, but he’d rather not linger on the thought too long. So instead, Buck settles for it and chalks it up to nerves, making a mental note to bring it up during his next session with Dr. Copeland. Until then, he should be fine.

Emphasis on should.

Because apparently, the universe gets a real kick out of watching Buck suffer since it wasn’t enough that the hospital’s power went out- no, the entire fucking city got hit with a widespread blackout. And if that wasn’t worrying enough, Eddie hasn’t been answering his radio, and Buck’s phone isn’t working either. He does his best to stay calm, really he does, but with every passing minute of radio silence, the sick coil of nerves knotted in his stomach only gets tighter and tighter.

After 10 minutes of no response, Bobby had given Buck the go-ahead to go look for Eddie, and that’s all he needed before he’s off, weaving through the halls of the hospital heading to where he’d seen him last. If it weren’t for whatever shred of self-control in him, Buck would probably be sprinting through the building by now.

Eddie’s been back to work for only about a couple weeks now. And he’s doing great (obviously, he wouldn’t have gotten cleared to go back if he wasn’t). Buck is happy for him- happy that his best friend is back. God knows the last couple of months had been rough without Eddie, he had spent the last couple of years carving out and filling a special place in the station especially reserved for him, and then all of a sudden, it had been vacant again.

Buck is excited that he’s working again, really he is. But now the energy between them feels…different, and he knows why- they both do. It’s not like Buck had expected them to come back completely fine either. But even months after the shooting, they still have yet to talk about any of it. A part of him feels like they should, but in the months he stayed over at Eddie’s, helping out however he could during his recovery, Buck could see the toll everything had taken on him, both physically and mentally. Eddie didn’t seem ready to unpack that with him yet, and Buck wasn’t going to push him.

It’s fine. He knows Eddie has been going back to therapy. They’ll talk whenever he’s ready.

Buck does his best to give Eddie his space, let him, you know, do his job, but the past weeks feel like he’s been doing nothing but living on the edge. Every time Eddie’s out of his sight for too long, he can hear a voice screaming at him, ‘Where is he? Is he okay? Find him. Protect him. Find him. You said you’d have his back. Your fault. Your fault. Your fa-’

Then Eddie will turn the corner, and Buck’s lungs will release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding on to. He hopes it’ll take the fear, too, that with every sigh won’t just be a release of pressure but help let go of the irrational worry he has. But it never does. It eats away at him, taunting him with the idea that Eddie might get hurt again, but this time Buck won’t be there to help him.

(God, they really should talk.)

He still doesn’t bring it up. Instead, Buck sets aside his apprehension and tries not to indulge in the panicked voice in his subconscious. He’s been getting better at it.

At least he was.

All it took was 15- no, 16 minutes now- of radio silence for Buck’s heart to start pounding against his chest in rapid succession. For the nervousness to shoot through his veins, thrumming all the way down to the tips of fingers as they twitch with a numbing unease. He treads through the halls keeping his head on a swivel, alert and attentive to trying to find his best friend in the sea of patients and doctors. Eddie’s probably somewhere in the hospital helping out the staff; he is a medic after all. Yet despite any amount of reasoning Buck tries to apply, the sickening feeling in his stomach doesn’t seem to dissipate. It’s been 16 minutes, and he hasn’t had any luck. He’s even circled the floor twice just to be sure, but still, nothing.

He’s considering doing another lap when he hears it- the distant noise of someone banging on metal coming from behind the elevator doors. The sound is so faint, paired with the loud frenzy of the rest of the hospital floor, that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

He rushes to the doors, pressing his ear flushed against it. He can hear someone yelling, but the voice is too muffled to make out what they’re saying.

“Eddie?” He calls out, no doubt getting a couple odd looks from the passing medical staff, but he pays them no mind. He bangs on the doors a couple times before yelling again louder, “Eddie! It’s Buck- can you hear me?”

There’s a beat of silence before the pounding continues again, this time with much more force in response. Buck doesn’t waste any time before he digs his fingers between the doors, using everything he has to pry them apart. The muscles in his shoulders and arms strain, but the creaking of metal offers enough motive to keep him going. Even if it’s not Eddie, it still means someone’s trapped down there.

(A selfish part of him still hopes, though.)

Once the doors are opened wide enough for him, Buck drops to his stomach to peer down into the elevator currently caught between two floors. Even with the little light he does have, he sees a curled-up shadow crouched in the corner below him, “Eddie?”

The person shifts, “Buck?”

There’s nothing more Buck wants than to revel in the relief he feels when he finally hears Eddie’s voice, but it quickly scatters when he notices the trembling panic coated in his tone.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures with as much steadiness he can force out and just hopes that Eddie doesn’t hear the way his voice shakes out the words. “Are you okay?”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I-I can’t breathe.”

Buck’s mind starts to spin, panicking on what to do now. The gap in between the doors isn’t that big, so it’s not like he can slip down there with Eddie or pull him out either. He has enough sensibility to grab at his radio to at least let Bobby aware of his status, “Cap, I found Eddie. He’s trapped in an elevator stuck between the 7th and 6th floors.”

A few seconds pass before he hears Bobby’s voice on the other end, “Okay, we’re working on getting the hospital’s backup generator working. Stay with him until we can get it back online, then we’ll head up to you.”

Eddie lets out a strangled noise at his words. The twinge of panic in Buck’s stomach only coils tighter when he realizes how Eddie’s breathing seems to pick up, now coming out in quick hallow shivers.

‘He’s having a panic attack.’ Buck realizes.

It takes less than a couple seconds after for Buck to murmur a hasty “copy that” into his radio before he readjusts his focus back to his friend.

He’s not unfamiliar with panic attacks, his or Eddie’s, most of which being the results of nightmares that seem to linger when dusk settles. During the last few months, Buck has lost count of the nights that either one of them has woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, and in the midst of alarm and fear, craving a recognizable magnetism of being held. A silent want to be assured protection and comforted.

It’s sick now. How there’s nothing more Buck desires than to provide that same security now, but the small two-foot gap between the elevator doors draws out to what feels like miles of distance.

Even though he can’t crawl down there with him, Buck finds himself reaching into the elevator shaft as far as he can, “Eddie, can you grab onto my hand for me?” Listen- he knows what he’s doing isn’t entirely safe, sticking his arm into an elevator that hasn’t been secure yet. But the sound of Eddie’s breath coming out in nothing but shaky huffs is more than enough to make him forgo any logic.

From within the enclosure of the elevator, he feels Eddie grasp his hand with an iron grip, the distress trembling at his fingers.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m right here, alright?” Buck presses the conviction through his tone, his best attempt to override his own uncertainty. “Do you think you can try and take some deep breaths?”

Buck can faintly make out the silhouette of Eddie nodding, “Y-Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, I can try.”

“We can do them together,” Buck offers. He takes a deep breath himself, and from below him, he hears Eddie take one too. Unconsciously, Buck starts to tighten his hold in tandem with their breathing, squeezing his hand on an inhale, loosening his grasp on the exhale. He hadn’t really realized he’s doing it until after a couple breaths, Eddie starts doing it too. And with each squeeze, his grasp slowly becomes more determined and less shaky. It doesn’t take long for them to eventually sync up for the tremor in Eddie’s hands to fade.

A couple more moments pass, and his breathing begins to steady more.

“How you doing down there, Eds?”

“Can you…”, he clears his throat, an attempt to hide how wrecked he sounds. “Can you talk to me?- About anything, it doesn’t matter.”

Buck rattles his brain for something, anything to talk about before he remembers the nature documentary he had watched several nights prior, “Did you know toucans are born blind?”

He hears Eddie laugh; it comes out breathless and nervous, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, “Really?”

“Yeah, ironically enough, they also aren’t great at flying either. They usually hop from one branch to another to get where they want to go.”

“Tell me more?” He asks, his voice quiet.

Buck smiles and keeps going, rambling about birds for a while. He doesn’t really know for how long, and at some point, he loses his awareness of what he’s saying, more focused on Eddie than anything else. Faintly, he wonders if his arm is getting tired by now.

“You know, Chris has been learning about biomes and ecosystems in school…he’d love to hear all this stuff.”

“You can tell him all about it after work.” He reassures.

Eddie’s hand twitches in his palm. “How much longer?” Buck can hear the dread creeping back into his tone.

“I…”

Not too long. He wants to promise, but the words get caught in his throat. There are a lot of things Buck can do- lying to Eddie isn’t one of them. “I-I don’t know.” He finally admits, the shame dripping down from him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Eddie laughs, yet this time there’s no shred of humor in his voice, “I’m not sure if I can last any longer down here, Buck.” God, he sounds on the verge of tears.

“What can I do?” Fuck, at this point, Buck would do anything. Hell, he’d pull the damn elevator up himself if he had to. Whatever it would take to get Eddie back on safe ground.

“Just-” A pained noise escapes him, “Please don’t leave.”

Buck swears his heart fucking shatters. “Hey.” Even though he can’t see exactly where Eddie is, he does his best to look him in the eye before he squeezes his hand, “I’m not leaving your side, okay?”

The first thing Buck’s fire instructor had said during his training at the academy was never make a promise you can’t keep. Buck knows how important promises are to people, especially in states of emergencies. In the middle of chaos, those two words are all anyone needs to cling to. So that’s why, when Eddie looks at him, with what little light there is provided catching the edges of his watery eyes laced in fear and worry, Buck doesn’t hesitate to grip his hand as tight as he can. To hold on and look at Eddie with all the conviction and certainty he has and tell him,

“I promise.”

[tripleaxeldiaz]

darling let me trace the lines

a flower shop fic for my beautiful @elisela <3

read on ao3

I. Birth Month Flowers

The bell above the shop door rings, but Eddie ignores it in favor of putting the finishing touches on the wedding arrangement he’s working on. There’s only one person who’d come in after closing anyway, and he’ll make his way to the back room soon enough.

He smiles as he feels strong arms wrap around his waist from behind and a chin come to rest on his shoulder. He puts the last of the peonies in place before turning around to greet Buck properly.

“Hi,” he says, arms coming around Buck in return. Buck’s smile gets bright and Eddie melts, like he always does. 

“Hi,” Buck whispers, leaning in to kiss Eddie softly, sweetly. “Happy anniversary.”

If anyone had told Eddie a year ago that this is where he’d end up — happier than he’s ever been with the best man he’s ever met, business going better and better each day, Chris continuing to shine — he’s not sure he would have believed them. He would’ve kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for every good thing to be met with something even worse, for the inevitability of sinking back into the darkness that constantly followed him.

But now, he has Buck and Chris and the rest of their little makeshift family to pull him out and remind him that he gets to keep these good things, that he deserves them. He still has days where that’s hard to believe, where everything goes a little grey, but then he’ll hear Chris’ laugh ring through the shop or see Buck smile, and colors come seeping back in again.

He kisses Buck one more time before stepping back to get a proper look at him. The first word that comes to mind is mouthwatering — dress pants cut just right, dark blue button down making his eyes even brighter. He looks like he just stepped out of a J. Crew catalogue, and it takes every ounce of willpower Eddie can muster to not drag him upstairs right now and forget about their dinner reservations. 

There’s one glaring problem though, and Eddie reaches forward to undo the buttons at Buck’s wrist to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Buck tries to pull away, but Eddie’s grip is firm.

“Eddie, come on, this is a nice place, they won’t even let me in the door if they see all my ink.”

“Well, it’s my anniversary, and I want to see it. If my very Catholic, ‘your body is a temple’ abuela can accept your tattoos, the maître d' at this restaurant can too.”

He gets both sleeves rolled up to Buck’s elbows and takes a minute to admire the ink underneath. They’re all more than familiar now, and he’s spent hours asking Buck about each one, like Chris did when they first met. He likes knowing these things about Buck, the little bits that are so obvious on his arms but have meanings that go much deeper. It’s a privilege, a blessing really, and it’s not something that he’ll ever take for granted.

Buck’s blushing by the time he’s done, and Eddie kisses his nose to get a laugh out of him.

“Okay, okay, go get dressed, we’re gonna be late,” Buck says, shoving Eddie towards the stairs. Eddie does as he’s told, quickly changing and fixing his hair, and he feels himself smile as Buck’s jaw drops when he comes back downstairs.

He knows he looks good — both the lady at the store and Sophia on FaceTime said that maroon was definitely his color — but it’s nice that the main person he’s trying to impress agrees too.

“You look— damn, babe, are you sure we have to go to dinner?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie closer by his belt loops and kissing him deep. 

Eddie lets him, just for a minute, before pulling away, ignoring Buck’s groan as he grabs his hand and pulls him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner goes by without incident (minus a brief makeout session in the bathroom between courses) and is overall perfect. Eddie is full of food and flushed from wine and swinging his and Buck’s clasped hands back and forth as they walk back to his apartment because he’s so happy he doesn’t know what else to do. The smile Buck shoots his way only makes that happiness grow.

The nerves settle in a bit once they finally get upstairs. “So, I know we didn’t talk about gifts or anything,” he says, pulling Buck towards the couch to sit down. “But I had a vague idea, and Chris wanted to help, and one thing led to another so...I do have something for you.”

Buck looks almost relieved. “Good, because I kinda have something for you too.”

Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes — of course they did this with no planning — before going to his bedroom to grab the gift.

“Close your eyes!” he yells before walking back in. He gently places the gift in Buck’s lap and sits back down beside him.

“Okay, open.”

Buck does and looks down, eyes widening as he does. He traces a finger reverently over the leather cover of the book in front of him, stopping as he gets to the edge of the picture laid in the middle — the two of them and Chris at the beach, matching sunglasses and big smiles. It was their first “family day” after they got together, and the first time Eddie knew, with complete certainty, that this was all he wanted — all he needed — for the rest of his life.

“These are all from the past year,” he says as Buck starts flipping through, like that wasn’t obvious. But he’s nervous and Buck hasn’t said anything so he’s just...riffing. “Even Abuela had some that I didn’t know about. Chris added all the drawings, the ones you two have been working on, and he suggested the pressed flowers because I was teaching him how to press them anyway. It’s mostly jasmine because I know those are your favorite, and they mean ‘sweet love’ so it...fit.” Buck’s still quiet, slowly flipping through the pages. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Buck says, voice rough. When he finally looks at Eddie, his eyes are shining. “I just can’t believe it’s only been a year and we’ve done all this.”

“There’s blank pages too,” Eddie says, tapping the back of the book. “For when we need them.” Not if we need them, because Eddie doesn’t feel presumptuous in thinking — knowing — that they’ll need those blank pages, and probably a couple thousand more.

Buck smiles and reaches up, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “I love it. I love you. Thank you.” He kisses him once, twice, three times before closing the book and setting it on the coffee table.

“My turn?” Eddie asks. Buck nods and stands up, smile gone and replaced with a nervous grimace. 

“So, first things first, I meant to talk to you about this before it happened,” Buck says. “But then I told Chim and Maddie about it, and they said it would be better as a surprise, and they’re very persuasive when they want to be, and she didn’t have a lot of time last week, so I—”

“Buck,” Eddie says, standing up too. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Buck’s eyes flit back and forth between his for a minute before he nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh, it’s that kind of present?”

Buck just laughs and rolls his eyes. He finishes unbuttoning and shrugs his shirt off, revealing his bare chest and more tattoos that Eddie’s become intimately familiar with over the past year. He’s traced each of them with his fingers and his tongue, knows their stories, could probably draw them from memory if someone asked him to.

Except one.

It’s healed but still fresh, stark on Buck’s skin compared to some of the older, faded ones. The design is simple but clear, and obviously Maddie’s work: a marigold and a daisy, crossed at the stems, tied together in a perfect bow by a piece of twine. And it’s right over Buck’s heart, in a spot Eddie knows has been reserved for something truly special.

“It’s beautiful,” Eddie says, “but how is it for me?”

“Come on, Eddie, you know what flowers mean better than anyone.”

“Sure, and I know marigolds are for pain and grief and daisies are for innocence. But what does that have to do with us? Unless you mean—” 

He loses his breath a little because it clicks. Tears sting his eyes as he looks up at Buck, because he knows what he thinks it means, what he wants it to mean, but he wants to hear Buck say it too.

Buck smiles, soft and beautiful. “A marigold for an October birthday, like yours, and a daisy for an April birthday, like Chris’. The bow is actually a rose vine for a June birthday.”

“Like yours,” Eddie whispers. 

Buck nods, but he quickly looks nervous again. “I know it’s kind of a lot, and maybe it’s assuming too much, but you guys are it for me. Really, really it. This is the best way I could show you that.”

Eddie reaches a hand up, traces gently over a petal, feels Buck’s heart thumping underneath it. Underneath them. A symbol of their family, so solidly formed that Buck wanted it to be a permanent part of him, woven into the tapestry of the stories he paints on his skin.

Eddie’s at a loss for words — so many big things he wants to say, but they’re all getting tangled in his brain, mixed with the sheer awe that this is even happening. Buck must take it as a bad sign though, because his face falls a bit and he starts looking around the room at anywhere but Eddie.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” he says, trying to grab for his shirt on the floor. “Like I said, I should’ve told you first—”

Eddie grabs Buck’s face and pulls him into a searing kiss. He’s getting better with words, with communicating his thoughts and talking through what he’s feeling, but sometimes actions still serve him much better. He does his best to pour the tangle of love and devotion and thoughts of forever into the kiss, and if his enthusiastic response is any indication, Buck seems to pick up on everything just fine.

They come up for air eventually, but Eddie keeps holding on to Buck, his thumbs gently tracing the blush on his cheeks. He just looks, takes this moment in, floored by the fact that even when he thinks things can’t get better, that he’s used up all his good fortune and reached the peak of whatever happiness he’s been allowed, Buck comes in and blows the roof clean off.

“You’re it for us too,” he says softly, earnestly. Buck’s smile is big and bright, and Eddie falls in love all over again.

II. Matching Rings

“You know you’re gonna have to get this redone, like, every year, right?”

Buck shoves Chim’s shoulder, almost knocking the ink out of his hands in the process. “You said you’d give us anything we wanted as a wedding present. And you’re only doing mine, so it’s like half a present. Be grateful we didn’t ask for money, too.”

Chim holds his hands up placatingly and finishes loading his machine. It’s just the three of them on the floor, Maddie in the back office doing something with accounting. The sun is going down, lighting the whole room up with soft, golden light. It hits Buck just right too where he’s laid back in Chimney’s chair, making his skin glow in all the places it peaks out beneath the ink. His hair is soft and loose and his smile is easy, and Eddie feels his heart pick up, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it.

Eddie can’t believe he has to wait a week to marry this man. He’d do it right here, right now if he could. But it’s only seven days, and today they’re doing something just as permanent, just as lasting as they are.

This wasn’t part of the original plan. Everything else was set for the wedding — the venue, the food, the cake, the suits, everything, except the rings. They’d spent three separate weekends going to stores all around Los Angeles, scouring Etsy shops, talking to designers, and still nothing felt right. Nothing they saw felt true to either of them, as a couple or as individuals, and it was (on top of the general stress of planning a wedding) starting to get to Eddie.

“Screw it,” he’d said after another two hours of searching, closing out of another store’s website. “This is so stupid. The rings are the least important part of this, why is it so hard to find good ones?”

Buck pats his shoulder and sets down a mug of tea in front of him before sitting down next to him. “We could just get cheap ones for the actual wedding and keep looking after. Or skip the rings altogether?”

“No, I still want them,” Eddie said. “I just want them to be special. To be us. We’re going to be wearing them for the rest of our lives, we should like them.”

Buck nodded, tapping the side of his own mug, lost in thought. Eddie tried to search some more, typing every combination of “male wedding ring not ugly” in Google and hoping something stuck, until Buck suddenly grabbed his wrist, his eyes bright.

“What if we do tattoos instead.”

“Ring tattoos? Is that even a thing?” He liked to think he’d absorbed a fair amount of tattoo knowledge in all his years of knowing Buck, but he can’t remember a time anyone ever came into the shop for something like that.

Buck nodded. “They’re more popular than they used to be. And we could design them ourselves. They’ll need touch ups, but what’s more permanent than ink being shoved into a layer of your skin?”

He was right. Tattoos meant a lot to the both of them — what better way to truly bond them for life? Eddie smiled back, kissing Buck’s cheek. “You’re a genius.”

So now, three weeks later, design finalized and on their only free evening for the next seven days, Chim starts up his machine and starts on Buck’s left hand.

It’s a simple design — black, interwoven strands, tied together by each other’s initials on the palm side. To Eddie, the strands look like a ribbon of DNA, which makes perfect sense for how much Buck is a part of him, heart and soul and everywhere else in between. He’s intrinsic to Eddie’s very being at this point, and now everyone else will get to see it too, will know from just a glance that he is happily, permanently, taken.

He feels Buck snake his free hand into his own, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. He looks up, worried, but Buck seems fine, easy smile still on his face, brighter still now that it’s night.

“You okay?”

Buck nods. “Doesn’t hurt. Just like holding your hand.”

Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes, but squeezes his hand back just as gently.

Chim takes his time, meticulous as always, but he’s still done fairly quickly. He wraps Buck’s finger and cleans up his station before heading to the back to find Maddie, yelling “Congrats you two, don’t touch any of my stuff” over his shoulder as he goes. Buck just rolls his eyes before standing — his hand still clasped in Eddie’s — and leading them over to his own station. Eddie gets comfortable in the chair while Buck gets everything ready, and while he tries to take in the shop around him, noting the new artwork and paint job that Maddie just finished last weekend, his eyes always drift back to Buck, hands moving sure and quick as he cleans and fills his machine. Buck finishes up and catches him (though he wasn’t really trying to hide), smiling softly as he sits down in front of Eddie and takes his hand. The machine buzzes to life, and Eddie lets out a hiss as it touches his finger.

“Remember the last time you were here?” Buck asks, eyes trained on his work.

Of course Eddie does — he couldn’t stop staring at Buck that time either, no matter how hard he tried. He also remembers being scared, not of the tattoo, but of his growing feelings for Buck, how they were getting harder and harder to ignore but he still hadn’t felt like he deserved Buck or the pure light and joy he’s made up of. 

Some days he still doesn’t, even after three years together and a week away from getting married. 

But then Buck will come into the shop and launch into a story about a terrible client he just had, or come through the back door and plop down next to Chris to help with homework or an art project, or just look at Eddie with his steady, sure gaze, press a kiss to his cheek, and tell him he loves him like it’s the only thing he knows for certain. And Eddie will remember how well Buck fits into their lives, how easy it is to love him and be loved by him, and those doubts wash away as quickly as they came.

Buck shows him more love every day than any person should be capable of showing. Eddie can’t wait to spend the rest of his life giving it right back.

“Done!” Buck says. Eddie looks down at his hand and feels a beautiful warmth spread through him that threatens to bubble over in a laugh or tears or maybe both. Buck’s smiling too as he wraps Eddie’s finger and places a gentle kiss to the knuckle right below the ink, the promises of forever they’ve made to each other now permanent on them for the whole world to see

“So, a touch up every year huh?” Eddie asks as they leave the shop and head back to the apartment. Buck throws an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him closer as the cool night breeze whirls around them.

“Think of it like a permanently scheduled vow renewal,” Buck says, and Eddie does, his mind suddenly fast forwarding to see them 10, 20, 30 years down the line, renewing their commitment to each other year after year within the now sacred walls of Armageddon, older and greyer but still just in love as they are right now, if not more. It makes Eddie feel that warmth all over again, coursing through him until a laugh does bubble out of him as he presses a kiss under Buck’s jaw. He stops them walking and pulls Buck closer, kissing him for real — slowly, thoroughly, tangling their hands together and gently tracing over Buck’s ring finger, excited beyond words for the start of the rest of their lives together.

III. Ursa Major and Minor

Chris is being weird.

Which isn’t actually unusual — he’s almost 18, and teenagers are always a little weird about certain things. Eddie’s still not allowed to look in the bottom drawer of Chris’ nightstand, and at this point, he probably doesn’t want to.

But still. He’s being weird. And for that matter, so is Buck.

He can tell they’re hiding something — it feels like every time he comes into the back room, they’re huddled over the table, whispering about something. He tried to look over Chris’ shoulder once to see what he was scribbling in a notebook, but Buck had yanked it away and sat on it before Eddie could get too close. Whenever he tries to ask what’s going on, they just smile at him, the picture of innocence, and start talking about schoolwork or graduation or anything else until Eddie finally moves on.

And he loves it, really, that Chris and Buck have their own little thing at the moment, something that’s just for them. But he’d also really like to know what the hell is going on.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, answering emails about orders after dinner, when Buck and Chris walk in. Buck has that mischievous, self-satisfied glint in his eye that always raises Eddie’s blood pressure a few points, but Chris looks nervous. He’s fidgeting with the notebook in his hands and has the same wide-eyed look he had when he opened every one of his college acceptance letters. 

Eddie shuts his laptop and pushes it to the side. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Chris just has a question for you.” Buck nudges him gently with his elbow before sitting down at the table. Chris follows suit, taking the seat across for Eddie, looking nervous still but more determined. He takes a deep breath and finally looks Eddie in the eye.

“So,” he starts. “Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

Eddie nods. “Same day every year.”

Buck snorts and Chris rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Dad. And I know we already have plans, but I wanted to add one more thing for us to do.”

“Sure, buddy. What did you have in mind?”

Chris takes another deep breath and answers quickly on the exhale so it comes out like Iwannageddatattoo. Eddie tilts his head and leans forward. “Come again?”

Another breath. “I want to get a tattoo. Tomorrow. For my birthday.” He flips through the notebook in front of him, landing on a page and sliding it towards Eddie. There’s things scratched out all over the page but the final design is clearly circled — the Big and Little Dippers, each point made of small, hand-drawn asterisks and connected by even lines of dots. It’s clean, simple, and Eddie thinks it looks beautiful (though mostly because Chris put a lot of effort into putting it together).

“They look great, Chris,” he says, “and you technically won’t need my permission to get it tomorrow, but I’m sure I can sway someone at Armageddon to get you an appointment.” 

Buck smiles and nods. “Already on the schedule. But there’s something else Chris wanted to ask.” He looks pointedly at Chris, who rolls his eyes again and nods.

“So I want to get this one,” he says, reaching across the table and pointing at the Little Dipper. “And I thought, if you want— you don’t have to, but—” he moves his hand to the Big Dipper. “I was wondering if you would get this one with me?”

Eddie could cry. He very well might with how fast he feels his eyes welling up. He and Chris have always been close — something he’s been thankful for every day of his son’s teenage years — but this is something else entirely. He got his first tattoo out of spite towards his parents, and now Chris wants to get one with him?

He’s quiet for too long, because Chris looks even more nervous. He clears his throat and reaches across the table to take Chris’ hand in his. “I’d love to. If you’re sure. This is a pretty permanent decision.”

Chris smiles. “They’re our stars. I want us to get them together.”

Now Eddie’s definitely going to cry. He remembers summer nights in El Paso after Shannon had left — when neither of them could sleep, so they snuggled in the hammock in their backyard instead and stared up at the stars. He didn’t know many constellations, but there were two that he could always find.

“They look like spoons,” Chris had said once, still small enough to fit snuggly to Eddie’s side. 

“They do,” Eddie said. “But they’re not just spoons, they’re part of bigger pictures — Ursa Major and Minor, Big Bear and Little Bear.”

“Like a dad and a baby?” Chris asked. Eddie’s heart clenched — because he’d burrowed impossibly closer when he asked that, because he hadn’t asked about a mom, because he loves this kid so much he’d grab every star in the sky for him if he wanted them — and he ran his fingers through soft curls, trying to stay in the moment for as long as he can.

“That’s right,” he said, voice rougher than he wanted. “They’re always together, always protecting each other. Just like you and me.”

“Forever?” Chris asked as he placed his hand in Eddie’s.

Eddie swallowed, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris’ head and clasping their hands together. “Forever and ever.”

He meant it — he still means it — but the fact that Chris kept that promise with him too all these years, turned it into something precious, something worth immortalizing, it makes Eddie wish he could go back in time and tell his younger self that everything would be fine. That whatever doubts he had swirling in his head while laying in that hammock were for nothing — that he was and is a good father, who raised the best kid in the world to be full of joy and happiness and love, just like he promised himself he would the minute Chris was born.

He laughs as he feels tears fall for real, and Chris laughs wetly too, coming over to him and hugging him tight around the neck. Eddie holds on just as hard, reaching down to grasp Buck’s hand too when he feels him squeeze his knee.

He hopes those lucky stars are listening when he sends up a thank you for giving him this family.

“I love you, Dad,” Chris says.

Eddie untangles them enough to take Chris’ face in his hands, get a good look at his son — his beautiful, perfect boy, who’s becoming a better man than Eddie could’ve ever hoped for.

“I love you too, kid. Forever and ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris goes first the next day, brave face on until Buck starts up the machine and brings it to the inside of his bicep.

He grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes hard. Eddie doesn’t let it go.

[yoontopia]

sobremesa | kth

pairing: kim taehyung x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers(?). tiny amounts of smut in the form of grinding, heavy makeout sessions in a car, mostly fluff, microscopic amounts of angst HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAE!!!!

rating: M

word count: 9.1k

sobremesa: a spanish word for that time spent after a meal, hanging out with family or friends, enjoying each others’ company

summary: you’ve known Kim Taehyung practically all your life – your parents are best friends and that inevitably leads to the two of you being forced to hang out at family gatherings – being the same age and all. But you don’t really know Kim Taehyung beyond cramped bedrooms, family potlucks, and annual New Year’s Eve parties. He’s never been a part of your picture and you’ve never been a part of his. You know Kim Taehyung in snapshots, periodic glimpses into his life over shared meals that will never overlap with yours outside these little moments. Or so you think.

                                                         -2006-

“This is my boy – Taehyung – he’s twelve too!” Mr. Kim announces, with a wide smile on his face. You stare curiously at the little boy hiding behind his father. He’s got a tuft of dark hair and he looks over at you curiously, like you’re a specimen at a museum. Your dad pats you on your back and one look at his face tells you that you’re meant to entertain this Taehyung kid.

“Oh, um,” you say, stepping forward. “We can just hang out in my room, I guess.”

“We’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” your mom tells you, smiling encouragingly. You nod and beckon Kim Taehyung upstairs. He follows you wordlessly and you usher him into your bedroom. He looks around, that same curious expression on his face before making himself comfortable on the beanbag chair you keep in your room.

“So, do you wanna like—watch a movie or something?” You don’t have a lot of experience with boys. Taehyung is small for his age though, and you can look at him in the eye if he stands up. He’s a lot smaller than the boys you’re used to at school, and so you find yourself more comfortable with him. He shrugs in response and you heave out your beloved laptop your dad had so kindly let you use for the night. Taehyung’s eyes flicker towards your bookshelf and his expression visibly brightens.

“You like Cardcaptor Sakura?” he asks, and you hear his voice for the first time. You look at him in surprise. No boy at your school likes Cardcaptor Sakura, but you love the series and your parents bought you a couple of volumes for your birthday.

“Yeah! It’s really cute. Uhm… do you wanna watch that instead? I have the DVD set.” Taehyung nods, looking far more enthusiastic than before and the two of you binge the entire first season, sitting shoulder to shoulder on your double bed.

                                                         -2007-

You don’t know anyone here. It’s somebody’s birthday, but they’re an adult and you don’t really care. These kids are unfamiliar and rowdy and honestly all you want to do is go home and read Harry Potter until you fall asleep. You’d hang out with your parents, but they’d ushered you to go play with the other kids. Looking through the various bedrooms in this ridiculously large house you hear voices coming from behind a shut door.

Knocking before opening it slowly, you peek in only to find Kim Taehyung with his arm around some kid’s neck. They’re on the floor, wrestling. Boys, you sigh mentally. Taehyung looks up, hair in his eyes, a sheen of sweat covering him.

“My phone—get my phone!” He’s yelling your name and you’re surprised he even remembers you. You’d only hung out a handful of times after your first, fateful meeting after all. You glance down and pick up the small black device the other boy is trying to reach for. Taehyung lets the other kid go and he’s gasping for air as you hand the phone back to its rightful owner.

“I’m Jungkook,” the boy introduces, voice high. “Junghyun’s younger brother,” You have no idea who Junghyun is, but you nod and introduce yourself anyway. “Are you Tae’s age?” Your eyes travel to Taehyung, who’s scrolling on his phone now.

“Yeah,” he answers for you, and you’re surprised to hear how his voice has deepened. “She’s my age. Close the door, will you? We’re watching Claymore and Kook’s mom will have a stroke if she finds out—he’s only ten.” You shut the door behind you cautiously. At least he hadn’t demanded you leave.

Feeling weirdly accepted and elated, you sit down to join the boys.

                                                       -2008-

Jungkook becomes a part of your small family-friends group. None of you even go to the same schools, but you see each other occasionally when your parents want to spend time with their friends. You like Jungkook, even though he’s younger. He’s friendly and bubbly and likes manga as much as you do. You’re still scared of his older brother though, but Junghyun is old (three whole years older than you!) and he’s allowed to stay home alone when his parents leave so he never comes anyway. Rumor has it that he even has a girlfriend.

You’re making it through life like any middle-schooler would. You have two close friends at school that you do everything with and it’s the year your dad presents you with your first phone. It’s got a full keyboard and you can text Jiyeon and Solhee whenever you want. You spend hours into the night talking about Jung Hoseok, who’s a ninth grader, and how cool he is. You have the tiniest crush on Hoseok – he’s the dance team captain, and he always smiles at you in the hallways even though he doesn’t know you. Hoseok smiles at everyone, it’s just how amazing he is. You’re too shy to talk to him though, envying the girls he speaks to on the daily. You think you and Hoseok would be good friends if you were braver.

                                                        -2009-

“You’re going to a French immersion high school? Seriously?” You don’t know if you’re more impressed or exasperated. Maybe both. Taehyung nods and accepts the cup of tea you offer him. You can hear your parents heartily belting out to some 80’s pop song in the basement – it seems the karaoke session is going well.

“Figured its never too late to learn,” he shrugs, taking a sip of the drink and wincing because its piping hot. His voice has deepened now that the two of you are fourteen, sounding like it’s dipped in honey. “Plus, all my friends are going there, and I don’t wanna be that guy who knows no one at his high school on the first day.” You try to laugh along, but it comes out all awkward—you don’t want to admit that that’s going to be you at your new school. Taehyung eyes you suspiciously.

“But of course,” he continues, in that same airy tone. “I think it’d be cool to start over somewhere where no one knows you. A clean slate.” You smile privately at his tact.

“It’s nerve-wracking though. What if I don’t make friends?” you sound small as you voice out the one fear you’ve been too scared to admit. Taehyung hums and sips his tea again.

“You will,” he says easily. “But if you don’t you always have me and Jungkook. We’re practically forced to hang out with you.”

You throw your wet teabag at him. He laughs, the sound rich and deep and you find your mind cleared of your anxiety.

                                                      -2010-

“Ay here comes the Frenchie,” Jungkook wolf-whistles and you turn around to see Taehyung making his way toward you. “Are you fluent yet?”

“No, but I can tell you to fuck off in more than one language now,” Taehyung grins, giving you a one-armed hug in greeting. He smells like vanilla and clean laundry – a refreshing contrast from the boys at school that drown in Old Spice. You want to bury your nose in his sweatshirt.

“Wow, school fees well spent,” Jungkook nods sagely. “I can’t believe I’m the only middle-schooler left.” Taehyung is taking his seat in the chair next to you, your hand still grasped in his, much larger and warmer one. Taehyung has always been physical – not just with you, but with everyone. You’re all at a restaurant this time, celebrating the fact that Junghyun not only got into his dream university, but managed to survive without flunking his first semester. You don’t know why you had to squeeze into a dress for this occasion, but alright. You barely even know Junghyun – he doesn’t fraternize with his kid brother’s best friends. “Oy, here’s Jimin.” The two of you look up to see another boy making his way towards you. “My mom’s best friend’s kid,” Jungkook whispers to you two, rather like he’s divulging the nation’s greatest secrets.

Jimin sits down next to Jungkook and you mutter polite hellos at each other. As it turns out, he’s the same age as you and Taehyung.

“So, this is the kid’s end of the table, huh?” Taehyung murmurs in your ear and you laugh.

“Don’t complain – would you rather sit next to my dad and have him clap you on the back hard every minute?” Taehyung winces at that, clearly having multiple war flashbacks. Jimin stares at you two.

“So how do you all know each other?” has asks. Taehyung blinks.

“Oh me? I’ve known her—since when—? We were like twelve,” you nod. Has it really been that long? You’re sixteen now. “And I met Jungkook not long after, I think.”

“The three musketeers,” Jungkook cheers, raising his glass as if its not full of just orange juice. Jimin nods. Taehyung rolls his eyes

As the dinner progresses, you find out you like Jimin too. He’s friendly and before you know it, you have each other on Facebook. Jungkook proclaims that all of you need a way to keep in touch and that’s how you find yourself in a group chat with three noisy boys.

                                                         -2011-

“Uno motherfucker!” Jungkook dramatically throws down his second-last card onto the pile. You groan. How is this boy so ridiculously good at literally every game?

“Not so fast, Jeon,” Taehyung is next to you, wearing pajama bottoms with ducklings on them. Throwing down his only wild card, he’s changing the color of cards up. You laugh delightedly because thank-you-Tae-you-lifesaver. He gives you a hearty fist bump. Jimin is on your other side, and as always, the man is more action than words because he quietly puts down a +4 that has Jungkook screaming into his pillow.

You’re all cooped up in your bedroom. Taehyung’s parents have already told him he could stay over, and he’s promptly changed into his sleeping clothes. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to crash in your guest bedroom every time your parents hang out late into the night. Jimin and Jungkook are still in their jeans getting more and more uncomfortable by the hour. It’s past midnight and the parents downstairs have no intention of ending the party any time soon.

“You should’ve just stayed over too,” Taehyung says, watching Jungkook trying to change his sitting position for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

“I live literally down the block,” Jungkook snaps. It’s true – Jungkook’s family had moved onto your street only last year. “I’ll sleep in my own bed thanks.”

“Besides, is Jooyoung okay with you staying over at another girl’s house?” Jimin mutters, picking up a card and frowning. “Won’t she have a fit?”

“Who?” you and Jungkook ask at the same time.

“His girlfriend,” Jimin giggles next to you, and Jungkook is practically yodeling. Taehyung’s ears go slightly red. You look at him in surprise.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you tell him and his ears, if possible, go even redder.

“He’s been with her for a whole month,” Jimin proclaims proudly and you’re looking at Taehyung again because wow—that seems serious.

You have no expertise in dating. There’s a cute boy in your English class called Choi Seungcheol that you like to look at. He’s got a nice smile and really long eyelashes over eyes that look like they hold galaxies in them. One time, he lent you his dictionary and you almost melted into a puddle of goo. But Seungcheol runs with the popular kids, even though he’s always been sweet to you, and you’re still somewhat of a recluse. All of a sudden, Taehyung seems really grown up and faraway.

“She already knows,” Taehyung says testily, and gestures wildly at you, “Plus it’s not like the two of us are even remotely close enough for her to care too much.”

You find you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the card game.

                                                      -2012-

“Can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Jungkook pouts as he stares at you and Taehyung. “Can’t believe I only have Jimin from now on.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin quips. It’s your graduation party – the third graduation party you’ve attended in the last two weeks – Taehyung had his first, then Jimin, and now you. You’ve chosen a university that’s three hours away. Jimin chose to attend college in town.

Taehyung, surprising you all, is moving a whopping six hours away, across the country. The art program he’s chosen is super elite and you’d all had a potluck at his house with your families when he’d gotten accepted. You sip on your wine, still getting used to the taste of alcohol. You turned eighteen only last month, but Jimin and Taehyung are still minors, and are both sporting matching cups of sparkling apple juice.

“We’ll be back for the holidays,” you tell Jungkook. “I can even drive back on some weekends!”

“Yeah, but when our families hang out, I’ll be the only one there,” Jungkook continues, looking genuinely upset. “Gonna just stay home from now on.”

“What about me?” Jimin asks indignantly. “I’m still here!”

“You have, like, a billion friends,” Jungkook huffs. “And a girlfriend.”

“Good point.” Jimin agrees. You and Taehyung laugh.

“Well, we still have all summer,” you say. “The four of us should find some time to hang out before I move at the end of August.” Jimin nods at that, reaching forward to eat the chips off the plate in front of him.

The four of you look at each other. Your lives really don’t overlap outside the confines of your bedroom and while Jungkook is upset, you know he’s got his own horde of friends back at school. He’s on the football team, and in the multimedia club. Your best friend’s little sister goes to his school and you’ve heard through her that he’s basically the school’s heartthrob. A little hard for you to believe though – Jungkook will always be that small child who Taehyung tackled to the ground for trying to steal his phone back when you were twelve.

You look around your room. You only have around ninety days left in these four walls, in this particular life, before all of you move into the next chapter.

                                                         -2013-

You’re shut up in a bathroom stall at your dorm, tears threatening to spill. Your first year as an engineering undergraduate is almost over, but your mother’s voice over the phone has opened all the flood gates you’d been so carefully keeping close these past few months.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’re bumbling, and your mother can hardly make sense of you. You know that it’s probably coming as a huge surprise to them. You’ve spent so long pretending you’ve been fine all year that your family hasn’t had a clue how rough things really had been for you. “I want to drop out, mom, my grades are so bad, I’m so close to flunking out.”

Your mother is comforting you over the phone, but you continue to sob, months and months of tears and anxiety finally getting their chance to flow freely. You don’t care if your dormmates hear you – they were never really your friends anyway.

Weeks later, when your parents have picked you up, and have driven you back home, you know you’ll never go back to that place. You lie in your bed staring up at the ceiling, feeling void of any emotion. You’d always done fairly well in school so the significant drop in your grades at university had taken a toll on your mental health. The sun shines outside, the first signs of summer peeking through, but you can’t bring yourself to push open your curtains. You feel like a failure. You are a failure.

At some point during the day, Taehyung comes into your room, knocking quietly. He doesn’t speak, and you haven’t seen him for a whole year. Contact was few and far between and seeing Jimin and Tae do so well in their respective programs had made you put up a front with them too. He probably had no idea that anything was ever wrong.

Even if he had, you tell yourself, there was nothing he would really do. You find you barely know Taehyung, are only obligated to spend time with him because your parents are friends with his folks. But he’s here, in your room now, and you can’t hear Mr. Kim’s booming voice downstairs. You selfishly wonder if he came to see you by himself. Only for you, and not because of his parents.

He quietly lies down next to you, and the two of you lie there, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

He stays like that until you finally fall asleep.

                                                          -2014-

You scream when you open the mail and Jimin jumps next to you, spilling milk all over the kitchen island.

“I got in!” you scream and Jimin blinks owlishly up at you. “Chim, I got in!”

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Now Jimin is screaming, grabbing you out of joy and pulling you in. The two of you are jumping up and down in your kitchen and your parents are here wondering what the ruckus is. You’re merely shoving the letter towards them, too overjoyed to speak.

After taking the summer off, and pulling out of your old university, you’d applied to the college in your town – the same one Jimin attends. You figured you were better off in a program that genuinely excites you and come September, you and Jimin would be attending the same school.

“We gotta party,” your dad exclaims, a big grin on his face. You know your parents had partially blamed themselves for everything that had happened last year. For maybe forcing you towards a program you weren’t really interested in, only because the employment opportunities were higher, and you had the grades to get in. You’re pleased to see them so proud and happy for you. You’re in a better place now, have gotten the support you needed to help you get through that rough patch. Last year feels like a fever dream, like it belongs to someone else, someone that’s not you.

Your dad is calling the usual crowd up to celebrate, and you can’t wait to see Jungkook and Junghyun. It’s been months since you saw them last and you know Jungkook is a senior and is swamped with college admissions and his football games.

Taehyung doesn’t come home this year – working at an internship somewhere on the other end of the country that’s been keeping him busy. You don’t hear from him much at all.

                                                        -2015-

You gratefully accept the glass of wine from Jimin and glance over at the giant Christmas tree in his living room. The Parks have decorated it up to the nines, a real step-up from last year.

“Your ugly sweater is so not ugly,” Jimin groans from next to you, and you look down.  It’s a simple grey sweater with a giant ornament on it, the baubles are three-dimensional.

“It was the only one I had,” you sigh, leaning back into his couch. “Where is everyone?”

“Jungkook is spending Christmas at his girlfriend’s,” Jimin tells you and you roll your eyes. “But he says he’ll see us for New Years. Tae’s family just arrived actually – he’s in the kitchen saying hello to everyone.”

“Bet all the moms flocked to him,” you mutter. Taehyung is the group’s golden boy – the success story. He’d secured himself a fancy internship and was pretty much guaranteed a job straight out of university when he graduated in a couple years. Jimin nods sleepily next to you. You cozy up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung arrives in the living room then, his eyes travelling from the giant Christmas tree to the two of you folded onto the couch. You wonder if you’ve had too much wine already because you’re definitely imagining the strange look that crosses his face when he sees Jimin lean into you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person – Instagram pictures really don’t do him justice. For some reason, Jimin quickly pulls away from your embrace.

He’s grown taller, and his hair is dyed a soft honey blonde falling into his eyes, a piece tucked behind one ear. He’s wearing a sweater that’s literally the same color as the Grinch but he manages to effortlessly pull it off. Taehyung has always been pretty, you tell yourself, but somehow, he’s managed to get even prettier. He’s half-tucked his ugly sweater into black slacks and looks more like a runway model than someone you’ve known since you were twelve.

He fist-bumps Jimin before collapsing into the couch on your other side.

“What’s the plan tonight Park?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“I brought my poker kit,” Jimin says over your head. “Thought we could play.”

“Poker,” you sigh amusedly. “When only yesterday Jungkook was beating our asses at Uno.” Jimin laughs with his whole body and you giggle sleepily next to him.

“And, how are you?” It takes you a while to notice that Taehyung is talking to you. You straighten up, letting go of Jimin

“M’fine,” you murmur. Taehyung hums. There’s a strange sort of silence that befalls you. You and Taehyung never had a chatty relationship, but it was never like this either. Taehyung feels more and more like a stranger these days. You know facts about his childhood that you’re sure no one else does – the time he broke his arm falling off a bike you had dared him to get on, or the time he’d accidentally eaten a cookie with hazelnuts in it despite being allergic to them – but you don’t know this Taehyung. You don’t know the first thing about him. And it makes you sad.

The two of you make small talk – the weather, Taehyung’s internship, your finals – but it just doesn’t feel the same.

                                                          -2016-

It’s really been a whole year since you’ve seen any of these people – except Jimin, you see his ass on campus every damn day. The music is in full swing and your parents are laughing at something Taehyung’s mom is saying.

You’re sitting in a chair next to Jungkook, fresh off his first semester of university. His hair is longer, he’s inked up his right arm and smells like expensive cologne. Despite that, he’s still the lovable goofball you’ve known practically all your life. He lets you tease him about his ink, good-naturedly pulling at your cheek. He towers over you now, has for a few years.

Taehyung sits directly across from you. His hair is back to black, curling and long. He’s wearing thick black-framed glasses today, complaining about leaving his contacts back at university. Jimin isn’t here, having made plans with his dancer friends. It feels like every year, the only constant at these end-of-the-year parties, is you. The only one who makes a conscious effort to attend, who doesn’t treat these family gatherings like back-up plans.

“Jieun said she wants to meet you,” Jungkook is saying. He’s been dating this girl for six months now. “She’s gone home for the holidays, obviously, but maybe in the New Year. When do you go back Tae?”

“The twelfth,” Taehyung answers, mouth full of mashed potato.

“That’s later than usual,” you say in surprise. Taehyung shrugs.

“Didn’t come home for the summer, so figured I’d stay for winter break longer,” he answers, and you nod. You’re still on the “kids” end of the table, despite all of you now being full-grown adults. Some things really never change.

“Y’know we really should hang out,” Jungkook is saying. “I haven’t seen Jimin in two years – isn’t that crazy? Hey, remember when our parents would hang out and drag us with them. At least that meant we saw each other constantly. Now that we have our own lives, I don’t even go when our families hang out.”

You ruffle Jungkook’s hair and he gives you an adoring smile.

“I miss you guys,” he pouts, and something warm floods through you.

“I miss you guys too,” you answer, a little melancholy, a little sad, and Jungkook gives you a dopey grin, completely clueless. But Taehyung doesn’t return your smile, only surveying you quietly through his glasses.

                                                         -2017-

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung said they weren’t going to attend this year’s annual New Year’s bash. You can’t say you aren’t crestfallen at the news. It’s clear they all have lives outside their family. Taehyung and Jimin have graduated already. Taehyung doesn’t have enough time off to come home, and Jimin has plans with some guy he’s been seeing lately. Jungkook is going home with Jieun this year to meet her family.

You make plans with your friends from college, and the four of you end up at a bar. It’s fun – you sing karaoke and drink copious amounts of alcohol. You even makeout with strangers.

But somewhere deep down, you know you rather be sitting at the kids end of the table, stuffing your face with food.

                                                          -2018-

Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked into his house. You’re wearing a dress and some heels because Jimin insisted that the four of you dress up for the occasion, considering you hadn’t been able to get together last year. It’s been a while since the gang was back in town at the same time, and you’d just graduated and secured a decent job right away. Jimin claimed it was a cause to celebrate.

The four of you are at the usual family party this winter, because where else would you be?

Taehyung is very obviously drunk. He isn’t rowdy like Jimin or Jungkook, but you can tell. He sways faintly to the music and his eyes are dark.

At the end of the night Jimin goes home to his boyfriend, and Jungkook to his girlfriend, leaving you and Taehyung to clean up the messes they leave behind. Your parents have long gone home, no longer caring if you stay a little longer, or stay over. Taehyung’s family is practically your family.

You eye him subtly as you’re putting away the board games – his hands are in the pockets of his burgundy trousers. A cream dress shirt is tucked into his pants. As always, he looks good. Taehyung suddenly turns to look at you and you feel your face go warm at his stare.

Before you know it, he’s reaching over to kiss you, large hand cupping your face, head tilting so he can slot himself better against your lips. Your hand grasps at the front of his shirt as you pull him closer and you don’t hesitate to intertwine your free hands.

He wordlessly pulls you towards his bedroom in the basement, careful not to wake his parents. He pushes you down on his bed before climbing on top of you to continue where you’d left off in the living room.

That night, you fall asleep in his arms, naked and satisfied.

                                                          -2019-

Kim Seokjin whispers in a terrible joke in your ear, making you giggle. He’s your date for the night – but the two of you aren’t actually dating. Seokjin was a friend from college, albeit your senior, but you’d asked him to accompany you to this year’s New Year’s party and by some miracle he’d said yes.

You know Jin doesn’t think about you in that way – you’re at most like a baby sister to him – but he plays his part and holds your hand and sits next to you and brings you refills whenever he sees your drink is running low. A part of you thinks he knows what the deal is, if the soft way he looks at you is any indication. You owe Jin a big one.

You didn’t want to be the only one in the group without a date. Jimin has brought Min Yoongi, his boyfriend of two years and Jieun is here with Jungkook.

And then there’s the pretty girl on Taehyung’s arm.

You bite your lip. After spending that one night together last year, you and Taehyung had woken up with smiles on your faces. It had been a happy moment, until you’d had to sneak out of his house without his parents noticing. He’d laughed, kissed you on the lips and you’d left. When you’d seen him next, you’d been with Jimin, Jungkook, and all your families. The two of you had shared secret smiles but hadn’t got a moment to yourselves and before you knew it, Taehyung had had to head back across the country – back to his life without you in it.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to discuss whatever had happened between you, and you didn’t think it would be appropriate to discuss over the phone. You’d carried on talking to him like normal, assuming that you’d discuss this whenever he came back home next, and he never brought it up either. You hadn’t realized then that Taehyung only ever came home once a year – for Christmas.

Your heart sinks now, watching as he leans in quietly to talk to her over the loud bass of whatever rap beat Yoongi has chosen. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your college friends, about what had happened. You feel used – that whatever the two of you had, was maybe just a drunken one-night stand. But it hadn’t felt like that to you. It had felt… right. Like the conclusion to something that had been building up for many years now. But looking back, maybe it’s just you that thinks that.

Taehyung has never shown any interest in you in that manner, and you’ve known him for years. He’s dated in that time – even had relationships (Jooyoung from high school comes to mind, and you rack your brain trying to think of other serious girlfriends, but you only come up with girls he’s mentioned once or twice and then never again). Jimin already lives with Yoongi and Jungkook and Jieun are discussing moving in together. In your little group, only you and Taehyung have no strings when it comes to relationships.

You’ve dated too – of course – but never seriously. Your longest relationship lasted three months.

“Is he the one?” Seokjin leans over to ask you in a low voice. You turn to look at him nestled comfortably on the couch next to you, long limbs spread out. “The one you like?”

“Like...huh?” you take a large gulp of your wine. “I’ve never thought about him that way.”

“Then pray tell me why your face has longing written all over it?” Seokjin is astute.

“Thanks for coming today,” you say instead. Jin smiles lazily, long lashes casting shadows on his elegant cheekbones.

“I’ll even peck you on the lips at midnight if you want me to,” he says cheekily, and you slap his face away laughing.

“Aren’t you two adorable!” Jimin collapses on the couch next to Jin and offers him a friendly fist bump. Jimin knows Jin isn’t your boyfriend but is smart enough to not say anything.

“Are we?” Jin grins, throwing his arm around your neck to pull you towards him, your cheeks smushing together. “You hear that babe?”

“Oof,” you groan against him and he lets go of you to stand up. Motioning towards the bathroom, he flashes one of his infamous grins before making his way through the living room. Jimin slides over towards you, neatly taking your drink from your hand before taking a sip.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“His parents called, he’s talking to them out on the deck,” Jimin looks at you. You look at him and raise your eyebrows. “You okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I dunno, you always get this look on your face when you’re not,” he hums, sipping your wine again. “How long do you think I’ve known you?” You roll your eyes. You’re eyeing Taehyung again. He came to the party late and hadn’t as much as introduced his lady friend to you. He hadn’t even looked at you. Was this how your friendship with Taehyung was going to end?

“Who’s the girl?” you can’t help but ask, jutting your chin in the direction of the pair. A knowing look crosses Jimin’s features.

“Yoona something,” he says. “They work together, I think. Her flight home got cancelled so Tae brought her back here.” Jimin looks at you again. “They’re not dating – if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Fucking, then.”

“Well, probably,” Jimin laughs. “It’s Taehyung,” Of course. It’s Taehyung. You huff sarcastically. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” You groan. What is with your friends today. “When will you admit it to yourself?”

“Admit what?”

Jimin gives out a short laugh and stands up.

“You’re both so painfully alike, I’m going to get frustrated,” he mutters, half under his breath. You tilt your head curiously at his wording, but he doesn’t elaborate. “One is horrible with making a move and the other too dense to realize what’s staring at them in their face.” You watch Jimin head off, muttering to himself and shake your head.

When Jin returns with another bad joke about the toilet and pinches your cheek adoringly, taking up his spot next to you on the couch, you’re far too busy laughing to notice the way Taehyung’s eyes flash across the room.

                                                    -The Present-

“Tae’s coming home this year, isn’t he?” you mother casually asks. You’re in the middle of putting the cakes in the oven and you pause.

“Is he? I haven’t asked,” you answer, schooling your voice carefully.

“His mother mentioned that he doesn’t seem too happy lately,” you mom continues on from the other end of the kitchen. “They want him to move back here, or somewhere closer to here.”

“Good luck with that,” you snort. There’s three feet of snow that arrived last night and you’re not looking forward to shoveling it all by yourself. You haven’t seen Taehyung properly since the two of you had… fooled around some two years ago. Whatever idea you’d entertained about the two of you after that, it had all just been clearly in your head. Taehyung was barely home long enough for you to hang out as a group and if the rumors amongst the parents were anything to go by, you weren’t surprised he wanted to avoid the gossiping small town feel of this place.

Frankly, you’re dreading seeing Taehyung this year. This year’s party is definitely more exclusive than last year’s. It’ll just be the four of you this year. Like the old days. And Jieun and Yoongi, but you’ve known those two for years now.

“He’s such a good-looking boy,” Oh god, your mother is still talking. “I’m surprised he hasn’t thought about settling down yet. Of course, how can he think about settling down without a stable career first – freelance photography was it?”

“Mom, it’s none of our business,” you mutter.

“Oh, I know,” she says quickly. “But I’d always thought he’d go places, you know? He did so well at one of the country’s best universities, got that amazing job right after. And now what? He quit it after all this time and that Jimin who only did community college is earning twice the amount Tae is!”

“Mom!” you snap. “Let. It. Go.” Your mother stares at you in disbelief, closing her mouth quickly, and thankfully shutting up. “I’m gonna go shovel the driveway,” you mutter, taking your apron off, and shoving it onto its usual hook by the pantry.

You’re just opening up the garage and grabbing the big purple shovel when you see Jungkook floundering through the snow towards your house.

“When did you get home?” You ask, forgetting about your mother for a second.

“Two days ago—look,” Jungkook’s face is serious. “We need to throw Taehyung a totally bitchin’ birthday party.”

“What?! Why?” You begin shoveling while Jungkook stands there. You’ve never thrown Taehyung a party before – usually that goes hand in hand with the annual New Year’s Eve bash and the two are celebrated together, even though Tae’s birthday is the day before.

“Because he’s been weird ever since he came home – he never says anything, but I know, alright?”

“What? He’s back?” You stop shoveling and stare at the younger man.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks, after hesitating. You bite your lip. You’ve always been the first to know whenever Taehyung decides to visit. “Is everything okay?” You sigh.

“Yes… I don’t know… probably not,” you groan. Jungkook blinks down at you, utterly clueless. “We…fooled around, alright?”

“When?!” Jungkook’s voice has gone up three octaves. “Oh, holy fuck.”

“Two years ago,” you hiss, motioning him to pipe down. “After that party at his house. We never spoke about it and I just assumed he wanted an easy fuck.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jungkook says and you wonder at his wording. “A blind idiot.”

“What?” you’re so confused. Jimin had mumbled something similar last year. Jungkook shakes his head, bits of snow falling off his beanie.

“Aside from that, I think the dude is just going through an overall rough time,” he says. “And no, it’s not because you two fucked. You in?”

“What—yeah fine,” you give in.

“Cool – then my house on the 30th. Bring your own booze. Wear something cute but comfortable.”

“Who else is coming?” You yell after him, watching Jungkook shuffling back down the street. He turns to look at you questioningly.

“It’s just us,” he says, surprise evident in his voice. “Who else?”

“Right.” You say, sighing inwardly.

That night, you run straight into Taehyung outside Jungkook’s door.

“Uh,” you say, wincing at yourself for sounding so horribly awkward. Taehyung stands in front of you, readying himself to knock on. You’d hoped to avoid him for a little bit longer but here you were, running into him right as you arrive. You grip your bottle of Merlot tightly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung is intimidating – has always been. You vaguely remember a time when he didn’t scare you, when you were both young and Taehyung was this small scrawny kid with big eyes and a mop of hair. “How’ve you been?” He towers over you now, all broad shoulders and long legs. 

“Good,” you clear your throat. “You?” A ghost of a smile flits across his features.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard,” he says, almost bitterly.

“That you quit your fancy job? Yeah, I heard.” Maybe it’s your offhanded tone that throws him off but he’s gawking down at you before chuckling to himself. “What?”

“Nothing,” his face breaks into a bigger smile. “Should’ve known that you of all people wouldn’t give a shit if I quit my job or not,” You’re rushing to correct him that that was not how you intended to come off but he’s grinning, raising a hand to stop you. “No, it’s a good thing. I’m sick of people pitying me for something that was so obviously the correct decision.”

“Pity, huh?” you grin back at that. “Do they give you the sad head-tilt too?” You tilt your head mockingly to the side to demonstrate.

“Oh my god yes,” he snorts. “I’ve been getting those all week.”

“Welcome to the world of failures Kim,” you grin, holding out your hand in an honorary handshake. “We hate it here, but at least the expectations are now at a rock bottom. You can only go up from here.” Taehyung is about to reach for your hand when the door opens.

“Can you two quit flirting out here and come in?” Jungkook is indignant, holding a bottle of beer in each hand. Taehyung gives you a look you can’t quite decipher before heading in. You follow in after him, setting your wine down on Jungkook’s kitchen island. His apartment is small – only one bedroom – but it’s so Jungkook that you smile.

You hug Jieun as she comes out of their shared bedroom before moving on to join Jimin in the kitchen. Jieun is hugging Taehyung, wishing him a Happy Birthday. You watch them as you open your wine and reach for a glass from one of Jungkook’s cabinets.

“Not drinking tonight?” you ask Jimin. He’s dyed his hair blonde and it curls slightly. You think you like this look on him.

“I drove here,” he says easily. “What about you?”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grin. Taehyung comes up to dump the cheesecake you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding earlier on the counter. “Want me to put that in the fridge?” You address him.

“Yes please,”

“Not drinking tonight Tae?” Jimin throws your question at the dark-haired boy, as you shove the cake into Jungkook’s fridge. Taehyung’s eyes quickly glance at you before he speaks up

“I drove here,” he mutters and Jimin snorts.

“It’s your birthday party and you’re gonna stay stone cold sober? That’s sad man. Not to mention you brought your own cake,” he says, chin resting on his hand as he leans on the counter. Taehyung shrugs.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask and Jimin motions towards the living room where Jungkook and Yoongi are deeply immersed in what looks like Super Smash Bros Brawl. Judging by the way Yoongi is yelling, you assume he’s already tipsy. Taehyung comes up behind the counter to stand next to you to observe their game. You’re only faintly wary of his presence next to you as you sip on your drink. You don’t even realize Jimin has left the two of you to yourselves to go join Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, still staring at the TV. If Taehyung is surprised at your question, he doesn’t show it. “Your job, I mean.”

“It’s not what I went to school for,” he answers, hands in his pockets. “It became less about the art and more about kissing the asses of big corporations so they would fund us. I took the job because it paid well but at what cost?”

“Yeah, I understand,” you say softly. Taehyung looks at you.

“I know you do,” He says after a while, and your heart blooms at the honest faith in his voice. “My parents are disappointed. They don’t say it out loud, but I know they are. They think I’m going through something when the truth is that I know exactly what I want to do.”

“And that is?” you’re looking at him now and things suddenly fall into place. It’s as though the last few years never happened, that there was never a distance between the two of you. It reminds you of a different time – a time when you and Taehyung would tell each other everything even if you didn’t see him every day.

“Photography,” he answers. “My own studio. Maybe even sell my work – I don’t know. Just me, and art.” You smile.

“That sounds nice,” you say. “You know, Jungkook threw this party thinking you’re going through a quarter-life crisis,” Taehyung snorts at that and you can’t help but giggle along. “I wanted to tell him that he was crazy, but I didn’t have the heart to.” Taehyung is looking at you, questions evident on his face. “Call me crazy, I don’t know, but there has never been a day where you’ve been lost in your life. You’ve always known what you want, and you’ve made sure you get it,” You look down at your wine. The words unlike me are at the tip of your tongue but you don’t voice them. You know what—who you want, but you’re a coward.

You weren’t lying. Taehyung had always been ambitious – a go-getter. If he wanted you, he would’ve made it clear. The realization is heart-breaking.

Taehyung doesn’t reply to your statement, and only hums in response.

The night gets rowdier after that – Jungkook and Yoongi are a deadly combination when drunk and you’ve made it through your bottle of wine by yourself so you’re not doing too badly either.

Jimin and Yoongi leave first – Jimin basically dragging the older boy out. You’re scrolling through the train schedule when you notice Taehyung come up to you.

“I’ll drop you off,” he says. “You’re on the way to my parents house anyway.” You can only nod at that before he’s helping you stand up. The two of you bid a goodbye to Jieun (Jungkook has long since been put to bed and she’s collecting the myriad of beer bottles for recycling), and before you know it, you’re comfortably seated in Taehyung’s car.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place,” he says at last, sounding only slightly guilty. You laugh and tell him your address and watch as he plugs it into the car’s GPS system. You had moved out only last year, finally in a place to be able to afford. The two of you drive in silence, with you watching Taehyung.

He’s wearing a dark button down, tucked into equally dark jeans, hair falling over his forehead. Rings adorn his fingers that are gripping the steering wheel, and you swallow as you eye his thighs in those pants.

The wine was a bad idea.

“Something on my face?” he asks lightly, eyes still on the road. You start in your seat. The wine has lowered your inhibitions considerably.

“No, just admiring how pretty you are,” you say and Taehyung chokes on air. “Did you know you’re pretty? You always have been,”

“Is that so?” There’s a wry smile on Taehyung’s face. You prop your elbow up on his window, chin resting in your hand as you look outside.

“Yeah, since the fucking beginning,” you snort. “Even when you were scrawny and twelve, you were this pretty little thing. Next to you I looked like a drowned rat.”

Taehyung scoffs, running one hand through his hair, pushing it back.

“The day you wake up and realize your self-worth,” he mutters. “You’re far too intelligent and beautiful to belittle yourself like this,” You freeze and turn to look at him. “What? I’m telling you a truth. Stop undermining yourself – you’ve done it all your life.”

“Do you want me to pull up photos from that one trip our families took in 2010? Your puberty kicked in and turned you into a teenage model. My puberty kicked in and I looked like Phineas and Ferb’s long lost sibling.”

“Chat shit all you want, but Jungkook and I spent that trip sneaking glances of you in that bathing suit.”

“You two did what?”

“And I told Jungkook to back off,” Taehyung says it so easily. He pulls up in front of your building and turns off the car. The two of you sit there in silence. “Do you know how hard it is for me to control myself around you?”

You’re dimly aware that Taehyung hasn’t had a single sip of alcohol tonight – that he’s completely himself.

“Then why are you controlling yourself?” you whisper. Taehyung gives you another one of his wry smiles, this one rather sad.

“Because you’ve never seen me the way I’ve seen you,” he says, voice just as hushed. “And for a while, I didn’t mind. It was just a little crush – and I only saw you once or twice in a year so how could it mean anything? I had an entire life outside of you that you weren’t even a part of. So how could any of this be real?” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“But then… That Night happened,” and you know what he’s talking about. “And I thought ‘finally’ and once I’d had a taste, I wanted to keep coming back for more.” He looks up at you now, eyes distant. “And because you never brought it up again, I just thought that it didn’t mean anything—”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, heart racing so fast you can hear it thrum through your ears. “I thought you wanted nothing more.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he whispers. “When I never heard from you, I tried to move on—I had to move on, y’know? And this year I told myself that when I saw you, I’d be content with being your friend. I know I’ve been distant these past few years, but I needed that time to pick myself up—it was too hard to see you and know nothing could come of it.”

“Wait wait wait,” you wave your hands in front of your face, eyes tightly shut. “B-but you never mentioned that night again! I-I just assumed it was a one-night thing!” Taehyung blinks.

“A guy would have to be completely blind to only want you for one night,” he says quietly, and your heart soars. He’s reaching over for you and you shyly intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” you whisper, tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. “Because I’m stupid and I won’t believe it until I’ve heard it—”

But Taehyung is reaching over to your seat and pressing his lips to yours. You’ve missed this taste and you reciprocate almost instantly. He tastes like the strawberries that were topped on his birthday cake and you lean into the kiss, sighing in pleasure.

Before you know it, he’s undoing your seatbelt and pulling you over to his side. It’s uncomfortable and you almost ram your head against the rear-view mirror, but eventually you find yourself comfortably straddling his lap, back to the steering wheel. Taehyung’s large hands span the width of your back as he holds you in place.

“I think I like you,” he says. You smile down at him, running a hand along his cheekbone, jaw, finally resting it on his shoulder.

“I think I like you too,” you say back. You lean down to capture his lips in yours one more time and this time he doesn’t hesitate in sliding his tongue into your mouth. You grasp at his shirt on his shoulders, while his hands travel down to rest on your thighs where they travel under the flowy dress you’re wearing, moving over your thighs and finally resting on your ass. You whimper into the kiss and Taehyung doesn’t miss the opportunity to explore more of your mouth.

It’s when you let yourself sit down on his lap completely that you feel it – the hardness in his pants. You gasp before straightening up, but he pushes you back down onto his crotch. You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen.

“T-Tae!” you’re gripping his shirt almost painfully right and he smirks up at you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers. “We’ve barely done anything except swap spit and I’m already so hard it hurts.” Your ears go warm at his dirty words and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. You squirm on top of him and he groans in pleasure. “Any more of you moving that cute little ass on top of me and I’m going to cream my pants right here and right now.”

His lips latch onto your exposed collarbone where the strap of your dress has slid off and he sucks a bruise there. Your hips are swirling on top of him of their own volition and Taehyung has to throw back his head to let out a deep moan of pleasure. You stare at him in wonder – he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair clinging to his forehead, eyes blown out, lips swollen – and at your complete mercy. You kiss up his neck, biting his earlobe, before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m soaked,” you say, blushing. Your hand reaches down to tease your clit and you whimper before bringing your slick fingers up to show him. “See?”

Like a man starved, Taehyung is wordlessly reaching over to take your fingers into his mouth, and you watch in awe as his tongue swirls around them, licking up your juices instantly. His gaze doesn’t leave you for even a second and you’re so mesmerized. When you kiss him again, you taste yourself on him.

“You’re gonna have to stop here,” he puts a hand on your thigh to halt your ministrations. “I’ll seriously cream my pants.”

“I’m okay with that,” you mutter, leaning in to kiss him again, but he pulls back, a sly smile on his face.

“No, I’d much rather cream your pussy,” his grin is so wolfish that you feel a new wave of juices flow through you.

“Lucky for us we’re at my place though isn’t it,” you smile against his mouth. He laughs, a low, comforting sound before opening the door. You climb off him and out onto the sidewalk and straighten your dress. Taehyung gets off after you, hair mussed (thanks to you), and shirt half unbuttoned (also thanks to you). He reaches for your hand, which you take with a smile. This time, there is no hesitation, no hidden meaning.

                             -Sometime in the (not-so) distant future-

“Will you hurry up?” You hiss at Jungkook, but he’s too busy brushing his hair to pay any attention to you. “We’re so gonna be late!”

“You’re trampling on my mojo,” Jungkook tells you, straightening his tie and staring at himself in the mirror. Taehyung is next to you, tapping his foot in impatience.

“Okay, Jeon, that’s enough, you are not going to be late for your own wedding.” He says, face impassive and Jungkook sighs.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll be right out – you two go take your positions. Tae – you got the rings?” Taehyung rolls his eyes and pats his front coat pocket pointedly. Jungkook grins, face guilty and Taehyung is opening his mouth, probably to tell Jungkook off once and for all.

You laugh, knowing this is your cue to interrupt the fight before it actually happens, and pull Taehyung away from his best friend and push him out of Jungkook’s dressing room.

“Let’s go – if he’s late that’s on him but I don’t want us to be late either and you’re in the wedding you need to be up there.” You push Taehyung towards the main church towards the altar.

“God,” Taehyung is grumbling. “Promise me, our day won’t be so anxiety inducing.”

“How can it be when you’re such a micromanager,” you smile. “I expect our day to run like a German train schedule.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and glances at a dainty ring on your left hand. He does that often, as if to reassure himself that this is the reality, that you’re here and present and beside him. It makes you unbearably fond. Because even now, years later, Kim Taehyung still can’t believe he has you.

“Honestly, we could do it at city hall and I wouldn’t mind,” Taehyung hums. “Without all these clowns present.”

“Fine,” you play along. “Wanna go this weekend?” You’re not expecting the raised eyebrow he gives you, or the coy answer that follows – but it does make your heart race in a way only Kim Taehyung has ever been capable of.