#I mean I think the back and forth of text could be quicker

[bi-buck-coded]

WIP Wednesday

✨Thursday Edition✨

Important note/question at the end under the cut?? Please read it :( it's important to me. Here's potential scene one to NPC fic (it will most likely change if im being honest but I need feedback).

Tagged by: @honestlydarkprincess @buddiearemydads @ebdaydreamer @usercowboy

Sara speed-walks her way to the ping pong table, almost tripping, but catching herself before any of the others can see. “Guys- guys!” she says, “You will not believe what I just found!” Her voice comes out half whisper half yell. At the ping pong table Stan is writing a tally on his score-keeping note pad while Jess and Tom argue over the last play. When they hear Sara coming they turn their heads. 

“This isn’t over, I swear we’ve never played with those rules,” Jess says to Tom as Sara reaches them.

“Well Stan’s already given the point out so I think I’ll let him decide-”

“The point went to Bradshaw.”

“-nothing. He will decide nothing because you can hit the ball before it bounces.” Tom crosses his arms and looks defiantly at the other two. Jess looks over to stan and rolls her eyes. “I saw that!”

“Guys! Can you listen to me?” Sara looks around before pulling out her phone. “I know I said I was taking a break from online dating after that catfish incident, but I went on this hookup app last night - for reasons - anyway and look what I found.” She turns her phone relieving a profile boasting the username firehose. A shirtless mirror selfie in black and white shows at the top of the profile. The flash and the phone block out the user’s face. 

“Okay so you found some guy with the cheesiest username known to man why do we care?” Jess asks. Sara turns the phone back to herself, scrolls down a little, and then flips the phone back to her awaiting crowd. “Oh my god, why did he choose a blowjob angle?” She takes the phone into her own hands and stares open mouthed. 

“I’m sorry, he chose the name firehose?” Tom scrunches his face in confusion. “I get the joke, big dick or whatever, but why would you ever swipe on a guy who chooses the name firehose?” Stan laughs and grabs the phone for himself to scroll through the phone. Picture after shirtless picture stare back at him. Jess smirks.

“Maybe it actually means he com-”

“I mean he looks good in these pictures, sure, but then his prompts are so bad! ‘I go crazy for…’ and then he just put ‘you’. ‘My biggest regret is…’ ‘the opportunities I didn’t take’.” Stan pauses to laugh at that. “What? That one doesn’t even sound right!” Tommy takes the phone next.

“Would it be bad to say I’d swipe right?” The group looks at Sara and she turns her head to look away. “As if you wouldn’t,” she mumbles.

The sound of an engine backing into the bay startles them out of their bubble. Sara takes her phone from Tommy and locks it before putting it in her pocket. They watch as Buck climbs out of the engine and jogs up the stairs. “Oh my god,” Sara mouths at the others who all have wide eyes. They stand there quietly for a second, too scared to breath. It feels as if someone could tell what they were just talking about from any sudden movement. 

“They charge you extra for the full detail?” They hear Chimney say above them. Tom holds back a laugh while Sara clamps her hand over her mouth and stares wide eyed at Jess who’s biting back her own laugh. 

“So the game was 3-0 Bradshaw-” the alarm blares, cutting Stan off, and they’re off getting into their gear and the engine. “Do you think it was on these seats or-”

So I dont really know how I feel about this, writing third person omniscient (or kind of really third-person objective because idk how to write omniscient well) was weird for me and idk if I can really make it better? I'm thinking about just switching to text threads only? Idk read this and if you want in the tags you can give feedback on what might make it better or if you like the idea of just texts, because in my head texts would just make more sense? / I could make it funnier? idk in my head I feel like it'd be funnier if it were texts. Please give thoughts im begging.

[vaguenotions]

I really hate feeling irrational and upset over food. One of the worst things to be upset about. It feels SO fucking stupid.

[moonyeyedstar]

Thigh-riding- Professor Lupin x Student Reader

*18+*

Work Text:

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and you decided to stay back despite the complaints from your friends. You kept thinking about that night you shared with Professor Lupin a few weeks ago. You can still feel the way his calloused hands carefully roamed your skin leaving goosebumps. You remember how many times he told you that it could never happen again but you thought if you ever had a chance to get him alone and willing, now would be the time. The castle was practically empty and you wander to his office in your jumper and leggings. You were already so wet, soaking through your leggings. You never needed him more than now. Once you get to his office you knock gently on the door “Professor Lupin?” You call out.

“Come in y/n” Remus calls out and unlocks the door with his wand. You quietly open the door and shut it behind you. “What brings you here on a Hogsmeade weekend, don’t you want to be out with your friends?” Remus says putting his book down and looking up at you.

“I’d much rather spend my Saturday with you, Professor,” you say seductively and slowly walk up to his desk.

“Y/n,” he says firmly through gritted teeth, “I told you, that last time was a mistake, we cannot do this, it is wildly inappropriate,”

“-but Professor Lupin!” you whine.

“Don’t whine to me y/n,” Professor Lupin says with a sigh, his frustration was so obviously growing, “I was weak, I gave into temptation and I never should have, I cannot touch y/n it is wrong,” he sighs and his eyes do a scan over your body but they stop once they meet yours.

“But Professor,” you say walking over and straddling his lap, grinding yourself down on him. A low growl escapes his throat.

“Y/n..” he sighs.

“I don’t need you to touch me, professor, I can cum just from this,” you whimper grinding your hips on his and feel him starting to grow under you, he quickly grabs your hips and adjusts you to straddle his thigh.

“Is this what you want y/n, to get off on my thigh, is that how needy you are for me? So needy that you can cum in your panties grinding on my thigh?” He says condescendingly as a small smirk grows on his face and you can tell how much he is enjoying this.

“Yes, Sir,” you whimper and keep grinding yourself on his thigh. “Then by all means, darling, make yourself feel good on my thigh,” he smirks. You slowly start rocking your hips back and forth grinding yourself on his thigh. You can feel the rough fabric of his trousers through your leggings and panties. You let out delicate moans as you push harder when rolling your hips to apply more pressure on your clit. You want to move faster but need somewhere to hold on.

“Professor?” You whimper.

“Yes y/n?”

“Can I hold onto you?” you ask ready to snake your arms around his neck and rest your forehead on his shoulder. He nods slightly and you take no time moving your arms to practically cling to him. You rock your hips faster, applying more pressure this time, and let out soft moans. Your frustration starts to grow as the repetitive movements of your hips on his thigh begins to tire you out and you still didn’t cum. You feel Remus’s hands fall on your hips as he pushes you against him, letting you know it's okay to apply more pressure before he lifts his thigh up to match your movements. “Oh I’m so close,” you whimper and move quicker feeling your clit throb and your climax building up.

“Cum for me, darling,” Professor Lupin whispers into your ear. His hot breath made you shiver, sending you over the edge. Your whole body shudders as you climax on this thigh. You slow your movements as you ride out your high and stay put to catch your breath. After a few moments, you get up revealing a wet spot on his trousers.

“Sorry Professor,” you blush.

“Don’t apologize, believe me, I enjoyed that much more than I am allowed to admit,” he smirks slightly, the same smirk that makes your knees weak.

“See you tomorrow, Professor,” you blush and walk towards the door.

“I’d like that,” he smirks and picks up his quill, and goes back to grading as you leave. This was much better than an afternoon in Hogsmeade.

[prettyboykatsuki]

Sakusa Kiyoomi, contrary to popular belief, is not good at everything.

But, he learns quickly and adjusts quicker. There's something about the way he intuits his way in and out of circumstance that makes him seem naturally gifted and his expression blessed with non-chalance loans itself to the assumption that he is good at everything.

It always seems that way. In interviews where he's given some menial task that he picks up in one go, or in TV specials where he's trying to bake a cake and it comes out better than it's really supposed to. In those little details, he's confront frequently with the word genius - which he doesn't like.

Because, he isn't a genius or naturally gifted. He just tries a lot. And while he isn't naturally good at everything - he can admit to himself it's rare that he's explicitly bad at something. Normally, it takes a little elbow grease and he's passable. Good in that way that makes people mildly impressed like a party trick.

But bad, outright and blatantly bad? It's a rare enough occurence to humble the already gracious Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Sakusa is learning a lot about himself in his mid-twenties. And his one-track minded career focused thinking that lead him to the path of single life has eroded over time. He's never been concerned with settling down past the idea he'd like to be. And opening a dating app felt like a bad choice given he was a semi-famous athlete.

But he gave it a try. With the help of his more sociable team-mates was born a neat tinder profile.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. 26. MSBY Jackals Outside Hitter.

I like Old Westerns and Cold Brew.

He wasn't sure what he was hoping to get out of it. It was uncomfortable swiping on people based on perceived attractiveness and he's never been all that good at flirting. A message like yours paired with a Super Like (which Hinata excitedly explained to him) was standout from the sea of people.

(sent) 12:41 - i like cold brew too. but i don't know much about old westerns. maybe we could go out and you could tell me about it :) ?

Apparently blatant interest like that was rare. And admittedly, Sakusa liked how blunt it was. No guesswork, no fluff - straight the point and enough to make Sakusa curious about the person behind the message.

So a story as old as digital aged internet dating goes, he agrees to a location and time. You live near a place, you promise he'll like it. An afternoon casual date turns into a more serious romantic encounter for dinner another week and then for a few more weeks after that. Dates turning into back and forth texts, good mornings and how are yous turn into do you wanna meet my teammates? to do you want to be my partner?

Atsumu (often bitterly) notes that Sakusa really does have a natural knack for these things. He doesn't know how to argue back, how to say that this is all just been one big stroke of luck. Because the only thing he's really learned from all the time he's spent with you is that he is alarmingly bad at love.

He didn't even know that was something someone could be bad at - but every moment he spends with you proves him wrong. Sakusa has not a single bone in his body that is naturally gifted in falling in love. Most of his waking moments are spent doing what he does best - which is to say Sakusa has been doing a lot of trying and hoping to leave you passably impressed.

You do most of the leg work in anything considered romantic. Sakusa himself opts for chivalrous and entangles himself in paying for things and trying to be thoughtful and considerate. He picks you up for dates and never lets you pay, he showers you with expensive gifts and pays for whatever expense you'll let him. You always try to say no but he insists because really it's the best he can do.

Sakusa's never put a lot of thought into what it means to be warm. But you embody it, and lately all he can think when he wakes up is how cold an empty bed is.

("Do you like sleeping with me, Omi?"

"Don't phrase it like that,"

You laugh and it is the warmest sound in the entire world)

He's never felt explicitly bad at love in the way you make him feel. The complicated messy emotions of his that you carefully untangle. You read his moods better than he reads his own. You cater to them, to his wants. When he comes home from a long day of practice, it's no longer ice baths to level him but a sweet and gentle hug.

( "My poor baby," you'll say, patting your lap until he trudges the whole of him in your arms. For you to coo and kiss his head "I'll make it better," )

Who would've known being doted on felt so good? Not Sakusa. He doesn't know how to do it the way you do. The open flow of your affection is unfamiliar and everything Sakusa does is a bad mimicry.

You're good at asking though. Filling in the gaps - if you want kisses or touch or attention, you always ask. Sakusa has never said no to you in his life and never will for this reason alone. Ice cream at 3am or a long trip for trip for that pizza you really like or that anime figurine you've been looking at. Sakusa doesn't know how else to pay back your love other than to empty himself out for you.

Even when you fight, which is rarer than rare - Sakusa puts his whole soul into listening. Into giving you whatever you need, into resolution and change. He's familiar with trying and trying for you comes as naturally as inhaling.

He doesn't blame Atsumu for saying as much. But this time, he wasn't trying hard to get so terribly lucky. And even with everything together, he's still so very bad at love in it of itself. On coping with it, and how it makes him feel.

Lucky for him, you seem to accept his badness by rewarding his effort. Sakusa has never had more pride on the basis that he's so good at trying.

And he is definitely trying hard to love you and be even a little as warm as you are.

[sugarylawliet]

May I pretty please have a nsfw Light x Fem!Reader fic where Light is horny af and tries to seduce the reader but since it’s so rare to see Light needy like that, the reader decides to use this and pretends like she’s busy etc. and drives Light crazy af which leads to angry Dom!Light sex ;)

WHEW i got outta breath just reading this req-

warnings: nsfw/smut, dom! light, degradation with slight praise, this one has more plot than usual i think

taglist: @ygm1slt

"Y/N, do you mind?"

You glanced up from the dozens of tan manilla folders you held in your hand, spread out like a hand of playing cards, each one filled with documents upon documents about the legend you and your coworkers were chasing. The stacks of papers felt like the scribblings of a child in your hand; useless to you, because you knew who Kira was already. Hidden in plain sight, he was the man who had just called your name from the front of the room where he sat, beckoning for you to come near.

You let out a long sigh under your breath, slowly placing the papers onto the desk you stood in front of. You and Light were not dating, no, in fact you could barely stand to be in the same room as the man. His aura was suffocating, despite the large and sprawling rooms of the headquarters building, you could always pinpoint just where Light was; you could feel his arrogant energy wafting off of him, making it clear who the superior one was in the room. It was asphyxiating, and his words were even worse. Everytime he called you to come closer to him, your heart skipped a beat- and though you were sure it was from disgust, you never denied any of his requests. Your love-hate relationship with him only made your interactions more intoxicating. You weren’t gonna deny yourself the excitement.

Your footsteps echo through the almost empty room as you walked towards Light, the only other people at the task force at the moment being L, Matsuda, and Soichiro, all of whom were working together on the right side of the room, their focus on L’s computer.

“What is it?” You ask as you approach Light, stopping next to him.

“I’d like to know your thoughts on this, a second opinion would be helpful.” He gestures towards his computer screen, which was packed with data you could barely read. As you attempt to decipher the text, Light places his hand on your upper thigh, gripping it horizontally. You hold back a gasp, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Light stares at you, your eyes unwavering from the screen in front of you.

“Umm, well, it’s....”

Light’s hand slides up your thigh, his fingers inching up your skirt and brushing the fabric of your panties. He moves his fingers slightly with the slowness of a lover brushing their thumb up and down your hand as you hold theirs. Your breath stutters as you found yourself craving a harder touch from the man you thought you hated.

You break your gaze from the computer screen and glance at Light- his eyebrows were turned downwards, and the image gave you an idea. You grab Light’s hand, peeling it from your leg and dropping it into his lap. “Actually, Light. I’m kind of busy with these documents right now, sorry.” You smile, walking away and returning to your spot at the other table.

You sort through the papers, your mind off of Light before you feel the vibration of your phone from the table. You check to make sure L wasn’t looking before checking your phone, opening the message notification.

Light Y.

brat.

You glance over your shoulder before typing a quick response.

                                                                                                                        Y/N

                            i’m sure i don’t know what you mean.

You place down your phone screen-first on the table and turn your ringer off, not bothering to see whatever quip Light would respond with. You catch him rolling his eyes out of the corner of your view before returning to his work. He places a hand over his mouth and throws one of his legs over the other, crossing them. You smirk to yourself.

This was a back and forth you and Light Yagami often shared ever since you joined the Japanese Task Force. Light, the esteemed man he is, never places doubt in his ability not only to seduce women, but to get what he wants, whatever that may be; in this case, it was you. You, on the other hand, prided yourself on being strong- a stubborn person with an unwavering will, someone who could out-work and out-show the men who thought they were better than you. Often you forgot the end goals of your little adventures to prove yourself better than, getting caught up in the chase of it all. You and Light’s relationship was a quite hectic blend of both of your guys’ stubborn behavioral habits, and neither of you would settle for losing.

-----------------

“Light-kun, it’s getting quite late. You two aren’t tired?” L asks, glancing at you and Light, as the three of you were the only ones remaining in the main area of task force headquarters. Everyone else had either gone home or gone to their designated rooms in the building.

“No, There’s a lot of work to be done so I’m fine with sacrificing a little sleep.” Light glances at you briefly. You knew he was expecting to be left alone with you, but you decide to push the envelope a little further. You refused to give into him; at this point, your ego and desire to not lose rivaled his.

“Actually, Ryuzaki, you’re right. I’m gonna head to bed.” You wave goodnight to the men, sending Light an innocent smile as you walk upstairs to your room. 

You made yourself comfortable in your bed, as surprisingly Light had taken several hours to come upstairs- he didn’t want to chase after you, you assumed. Though, you could see how desperate he was through his facade.

Eventually, though, the door to your room opens with a creek, as Light steps his way inside and locks it behind him.

“Oh, hi Light. Do you need something?”

“Don’t play stupid.” Light runs his fingers through his caramel hair, frustrated. He walks over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, taking your jaw in his tight grip and forcing you to look at him.

“What was that all about, huh?” He places his hand on your leg, sliding further and further upwards as he speaks. “Teasing me as if you have the right. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I don’t appreciate the bratty behavior.” His fingers return to the position they were earlier, softly brushing up and down over your clothed heat. You bite your lip, holding back a moan; you weren’t going to give into him this easily. No, this was a competition for pride, and you were determined to win.

“Actually, Light,” You push his hands away from you, standing up, “I’ve had quite a long day. I’m gonna go get some rest, maybe you should too?” You remark before leaving, shutting the door behind you and finding another room to sleep in. You were going to win.

----------------

“Are you guys coming with?”

You stand in the main hub of task force headquarters near Light, as L was on a seperate floor working and the rest of the task force was getting ready to leave for lunch.

“No, sorry, I wanna finish this work as soon as possible. But Matsuda, do you mind bringing Y/N and I something back?”

You whip your head towards him with a sour look as he volunteered you to stay with him- alone.

“Sure, text me what you want!” Matsuda exclaims cheerfully before leaving with the other detectives. 

The loud slam of the door echoing through the large half-vacant room did not draw your attention away from your work, as you were determined to remain focused.

“You know, Y/N,” Light stands up from his chair, approaching you from behind where you sat. You take in a breath, preparing yourself for the antics he was about to pull.

“You never did apologize to me.” He places his long slender hands on your shoulders from behind, slowly rubbing up and down.

“Apologize? What do I need to apologize for?”

“For being a fucking brat.”

Light abruptly grabs the sides of the chair and spins you around to face him, his nose almost poking yours and his hot breath tickling your face, flushing your cheeks red. You take the opportunity of your close proximity to lock eyes with him, slightly shaking your head no, your confidence unbreaking. 

With haste, Light knots a finger in your hair and roughly pulls you towards the nearest table, shoving you chest-first into it. He smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. “How hard is it to follow fucking instructions? God, is your ego that big?”

He creeps his hand up your legs, dipping under your skirt and pulling your panties down to pool around your ankles. He runs his fingers up your slit, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Just give into me...”

You shake your head as best you can with Light still gripping the roots of your hair and whine out a small “Nuh-uh.”

He dips two fingers inside you, curling his fingers upwords and making a beckoning motion inside of you. Quickly, he pulls his digits out, extending his hand to force you to suck on them. “Hmm, taste all that? It sure looks like you want to give into me...”

You pitifully whine around his fingers, pushing your backside to press against the bulge forming in his pants, asking for more.

“See? I knew you were needy for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth and slips them back into your cunt, pumping in and out at a steady pace before adding a third finger. You pathetically squirm under his methodical movements; he was too good at this. You try to bite back your moans to save your confidence, but soon fail as Light scissors his fingers inside of you.

“Mm, I love the sounds you make, you sound like such a slut.”

Light increases his pace and depth, curling his fingers against your walls until his fingers were no longer visible. His manipulation of your senses drew your orgasam out quicker than you expected, causing you to clench against his digits. Light, sensing this, promptly removes his fingers from you, causing you to whine.

“Light...”

“What, you think I’m gonna let you finish?” He chuckles leaning down to speak in your ear, “Just say you’re sorry, Y/N. It’s not that hard, really.”

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You pant. 

He smacks your backside again, the hand-print stinging with the frustration building up inside the man. “Don’t talk back to me, brat. You know, you’re really being difficult and I don’t appreciate it. Maybe I should just leave you here...” He removes his grip from you and begins to walk away, and you’ve never felt more alone without your arch enemy.

“No, Light...” You bite your lip as you call him, the swing to your ego panging your chest.

“Hm, what’s that?”

“Light...” You look away, feeling embarrassment bubble inside your stomach.

“You only get what you beg for, Y/N. I can’t hear you...” He walks closer to you, a smirk forming on his lips as he backs you against the table, “C’mon, pet. Beg for me to fuck you, I know you want to.” He places a soft touch on your clit, rubbing it slowly in circles.

Against everything you’ve been fighting for this whole time, against your pride, your body was aching and obeyed, “Light, Kira, I need you so badly, please, please just fuck me already.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Are you sorry?”

“Yes, yes, I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” His tone grows more stern.

“For being a brat, for teasing you, for not listening to you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just please, touch me....”

Light hums in appreciation as he unbuckles his belt, tossing it on the floor and pulling himself out of his tan pants, “Mm, that’s Kira’s good girl, I knew you’d come around.” He pumps himself a few times, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slit, pushing slightly in every now and again just to evoke a mewl from you.

A slew of “please”s and begging whines spilled from your lips like a desperate prayer as Light continued his torturous teasing.

“You’re nothing but Kira’s pet, right?”

You nod rapidly.

“And you’d do anything for me? You’re mine, mine to use how I please and dispose of? Mine to use as a fucktoy?”

You nod again without question.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” Light rewards you, finally pushing himself inside of you after what felt like an eternity. He rocks his hips to meet yours as he stretches your walls out, the moans from both of you mixing in the echoey room.

“God, Y/N, you feel so good. All this time I’ve waited...”

“Fuck, Kira,” You cry, wrapping your legs around Light’s waist, pulling him as close as possible. Your fingers curl into the hard, cold desk beneath you in an attempt to grapple with the amount of stimulation you were receiving.

His forehead came to rest on yours as he pounded into you relentlessly, “God, you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N, yeah? Nothing but a dirty fucking slut for my cock, fuck you take me so well.”

“Light, I’m gonna cum...” Your loud moans were hiccuped by the rhythm of Light rocking into you.

“Cum for me Y/N, cum all over my cock like the slut you are, make a mess so everyone knows how good I make you feel, how you’re mine and only mine to use for my pleasure.”

The harsh words that tickled your face encouraged your on-coming orgasam as you soon came around Light. He continued to thrust into you until he threw his head back with a groan, cumming inside of you.

Light pulled himself out and tucked himself back into his pants, tidying up his appearance with still labored breath. “Don’t even bother to clean up,” He head tired at the sticky liquid that was leaking down your legs and dampening the table beneath you, “Everyone knows you’re just a slut anyways, might as well let them know you’re my slut.” He winks before leaving the main room, walking off into a seperate hallway presumably to collect himself.

You stood up from the table, still panting. The fight was over, you had lost. Lost. Lost to the man who always seemed to win despite being plagued by misfortune. You huff, pulling your clothes back on and allowing the sting of losing your pride battle with Light Yagami to overpower the pain you felt in your lower half.

[nikoruistyping]

I just watched tasm2 AGAIN😌

omg one of the whole "my laugh is off the table?” "it's adorable" scene and that reader tells him that she is going to the UK for college etc.

THE POINT IS that in the end he does end up going with her to the UK for university and we don’t die :).

—🌸

Rule Breaker || TASM Peter Parker

TASM!(Ex)Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Fem!reader​

Summary: You finally got the courage to call Peter and ask him to hang out despite having broken up with him weeks earlier. Your solution to the problem was to obviously stay friends with him rather than jumping back into a relationship, especially since you were moving to England soon and needed to break the news to him. As the two of you get talking Peter tries to set some ground rules but you weren't very keen on following them and neither was he...

TW: Fluff, Some Angst, Mention of Past Breakup, Crying (Both Happy and a little Sad), Emotional Lovey Dovey Stuff, Slight Friend Zoning, Mention of Possible Long Distance (Kinda?), Getting Back Together

Word Count: 2,086

A/N: I had lots of fun recreating this scene and just adding my own little twist to it! I lowkey wasn't sure what to do with the ending but regardless I hope you enjoy Anon and thank you for the request! ALSO WOOOO CONGRATS YOU’RE MY 100TH POST! ALSO YES I KNOW IM REUSING THE SAME GIF BUT I REPLACED THE LAST POSTS GIF WITH SOMETHING ELSE!

You were pacing back and forth in front of the Union Square Park fountain, your eyes darting back and forth in hopes of seeing Peter. You had texted him out of the blue and it had been weeks since you last saw him. You were the one who broke up with him this time but for some reason deep down you knew you loved him and you always would but you also knew that loving a man who risks his life every day and having no idea if he will come home in one piece also scared you. You didn't want to get hurt again over and over and you thought that by breaking up with Peter you could keep your distance and continue on life without him but the reality of it all was that you couldn't. You loved him too much to be able to push him away although it didn't help that you had even more massive guilt hanging over your head about the fact that you were accepted to Oxford University and that in a few months you would be moving to England which meant leaving behind the one thing you loved most, Peter. So you had the marvelous idea of inviting him to hang out and hopefully patch things over with him, maybe just maybe you both could start over again but as friends, and maybe your mind would be more at ease if you left a "friend" behind rather than a lover.

You spotted his ruffled up brown hair and his worn-out converse sneakers as he crossed the street. You smiled at him and waved so that he could join you, his footsteps getting quicker as he jogged over to you.

"Hey Y/N." He said in between breaths but still with the biggest smile on his face finally being able to see you face to face.

"Hey Peter." You shot right back at him a smile creeping up on your face as well, the both of you just staring down at each other, the feeling so weird yet so comfortable.

"You look amazing." He blurted out and of course, you blushed at his compliment but you scrambled to try and explain yourself.

"I'm so sorry for the weird spontaneous you know, this. I just thought that it was time...for us to start over...as friends of course." You looked down a bit embarrassed to be admitting it but you finally had decided it was the right moment to just tell him how you felt.

"Friends? I mean yeah, yeah, I would love that." He nodded his head enthusiastically as the both of you started to walk together in sync around the park.

"I just don't want things to be complicated or weird. I know that we didn't exactly end things on good terms before and I needed some time to really think and be alone."

"Well you're in luck because I hate complicated." He chuckled a bit looking at you in the eyes and he had almost forgotten how mesmerizing they looked and that for a moment he got lost in them.

"Very funny Peter but I'm being serious." You said letting out a small giggle at his joke while you continued to walk along side him.

"Well ok then how about this, we are gonna have to establish some ground rules if we are going to be friends then." His look seemed serious yet still somewhat playful, its like you couldn't quite read him.

"Ground rules?!" You voice high pitched and filled with confusion yet you still laughed along at his odd request.

"Yeah, ground rules." His tone still remaining serious and firm.

"Like what exactly?" You couldn't stop your infectious laughter from how ridiculous this all sounded but for Peter you were willing to indulge his silly demeanor.

"Well that laugh right there. That laugh is off the table." He himself couldn't even hold in the chuckle he had been trying to hold back for so long while you continued to smile and laugh all at once.

"My laugh is off the table?! Peter what are you even saying?"

"Yeah that laugh is off the table, you better find a more annoying laugh."

You tried your best to make a snorted and throaty laugh that sounded almost like the wicked witch of the west but to no avail it still sounded just like your normal one.

"Nope, its still adorable." His head shook back and forth as he continued to steal glances at you and in his mind he didn't want this moment to end, seeing you smile for the first time in weeks just made his heart beat faster.

"It is not adorable! Totally not!" You were in disbelief but continued to keep eye contact with him while you protested.

"Fine you know what, I have a ground rule for you too! Don't tell me I look amazing, especially with those big brown doe eyes of yours." You declared stopping in your tracks, Peter doing the same as your finger had gone up to his nose and booping it.

"Oh come on that's not fair, Y/N do you really want me to lie then? Is that what you want? Your killing me here." He playfully groaned in response shrugging his shoulders at you.

"Fine, I'll allow you to say it once but no more after that."

"Deal then, let's shake on it," He held his hand out for you to shake it but instead you opted for a hug instead, your body falling into his arms and without hesitation his arms knew exactly how to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

"Or hug on it that's fine too." He whispered while his hands had gently clutched at your back, he didn't want you to ever let go of him.

"Peter...I missed you so much..." Your voice was weak and you hated to admit it but it was true. You had done nothing but mope all day when you weren't with him and you loved him, you knew that but the fear of him dying was greater and also the fact that you maybe had to leave him behind was even more soul crushing.

"I missed you too Y/N." His arms slowly pulled away from your body and while he looked down to meet your eyes once again he saw tears already welling up in the corner of your eyes, his hands immediately going to cup the sides of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

"I hate when you cry but you still look amazing when doing it." He tried to crack a joke in hopes to lighten the mood and thankfully it worked when he saw you smile despite the tears running down your face.

"Not even a minute later and you're already breaking the rules Peter." You shook your head in disbelief but couldn't hide the smile on your face anymore, being able to be this close to him again was all you ever wanted.

"Well what can I say, I'm really bad at following the rules." His big hands gently squeezing your face before they slid down to the sides of your neck and burying his fingers in your long locks.

"I can tell but maybe I never wanted you to follow the rules from the beginning anyways," You gave him a little smirk while your hands had made there way up to his shoulders while you made sure to keep yourself close to him.

"Oh so that was your plan all along? I see how it is." His face inched closer to yours, his nose just brushing up against yours and you moved in close enough to be just inches away from his lips but you took a deep breath knowing that despite wanting to dive back in and start all over again with Peter you had even bigger news to tell him.

"Peter...wait. I have something I need to tell you," Before either you or him could get any closer let alone kiss each other you stepped away from him.

"I-I'm moving to England." You felt a giant weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt like you could breath again, the secret you had been holding in for so long was now out but when you saw his face fall flat you couldn't help but feel even more guilty about leaving.

"Wait, what?" You could hear the disappointment and disbelief in his voice alone, his eyes looking at you with concern.

"I got accepted for a scholarship there and well everything happened so fast that I-" Your train of thought cut off by the bluntness of Peter's words.

"When are you leaving?" Was all he needed and wanted to know.

"I leave next month..." You voice was on the verge of tears or breaking whichever decided to come first.

"We are both going then." You felt his hands grab yours in response while he looked you in the eyes and you were surprised, at a lose for words.

"What?! Peter I could never ask you to do something like that and what about-"

"Y/N, I'm going to follow you now. I'm just going to follow you everywhere and I want to follow you for the rest of my life," His words made you shed a tear knowing you felt the exact same way as him and you cracked a smile knowing that he was serious about this and you had a feeling there was no way that you were going to change his mind.

"I never wanted to break up with you and even now I can't and wont ever be able to 'just be friends' with you. I love you too much to just let you go, I’d rather go with you than see you just walk away." He was almost breathless from his rambling but all you could do in response to how passionate he was about wanting to just drop everything and move to England with you was cry tears of joy. HIs declaration alone was enough for you to push all your feelings aside and accept him back into your heart, moral dilemmas and Spiderman business aside.

"I love you too Peter and I never stopped loving you...I'm so sorry." You admitted while your hands had made their way to his chest and your fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, yanking him close enough to crash your lips into his without a second thought.

His arms immediately embraced your body and lifted you off the ground spinning you around, not breaking the kiss even once. You mustered up every ounce of love you could into one kiss while your lips moved to the rhythm of his. You kicked your legs up in the air while he still held you in his arms, your hands going up to his cheeks and cupping his face pulling him as close as humanly possible as if you were afraid he would leave you.

Once you felt your feet touch the ground again you breathlessly pulled your lips away from his and you both were out of breath panting while you leaned your forehead against his. You had closed your eyes for a brief moment enjoying how close you were to him and that all this nonsense about breaking up and being friends was all just an excuse to run away from your fears and you knew that if you kept running away from him you would live a very unhappy life without him.

"You better pack your bags then Spiderman because we are going to England." You happily whispered into the space between you, a laugh come from your lips and he chuckled along with you, the both of your were all smiles and there was nothing now that could wipe it off your face now.

"No need to tell me twice." He responded while his hands had made there way to yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand as the two of you pulled apart and began to walk together once more.

As the two of you continued to walk together through the park you leaned into his side, smiling, laughing, flirting, stealing kisses here and there and finally feeling happy once again now that things seemed to officially be back to normal. During the rest of the evening you both chattered on and on, catching up on all you both had missed within the past few weeks, while you listed off all the plans you already had started to make in your mind of the first things you both would do when first getting to England and maybe also arguing about if England really needed their own version of a friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

Complete Masterlist

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[formulawonu]

Omg that enemy to lover fic with Lance was superb *chefs kiss* lol! Can you do another one were you’re like Seb’s little sister and you and Lance don’t really get along and you two accidentally get locked in a room together and there’s cute teasing and bickering when you two accidentally touch hands and have a moment and kiss as it gets a little heated you get caught by Seb. I think that would be sooo goood

locked up / lance stroll

(not my gif! credits to the owner)

warnings: just a little steamy, kissing, bickering... uh yeah

a/n: hi i'm finally getting through the requests!!!! this one didn't really turn out written how i'd hoped for it too but here it is haha hope you enjoy it :3 trying to get out of my writer's block merp thank you requesting this one!

No. No. No. This can’t be happening to you right now. You were supposed to be on your way back to the hotel, getting ready for dinner before your brother got back from the paddock. You initially didn’t even want to come watch the practice sessions today, but you found yourself bored at the start of the day and came out anyway. Wrong choice. You twist the doorknob in front of you, willing for it to magically click open. You groan as the door remains jammed shut.

“This is your fault.” The voice behind you says. You hadn’t meant to enter his room, but you swore you could hear the voice of the creepy guy who wouldn’t stop bothering you every time you were in the paddock from the end of the hallway so you forced yourself into the nearest room possible. It just happened to be Lance Stroll’s personal room. “How was I supposed to know you can’t keep a door fully functional?” You shoot back. Lance chuckles from where he is perched on the sofa. “Or maybe you actually wanted to get locked in a room with me. It was working perfectly fine until you slammed the door shut entering.” You shoot Lance a look. “I would not want to be stuck with you anywhere.”

You and Lance had never really gotten along. You wouldn’t go so far to say that you absolutely hated each other, but you both would definitely not choose to spend any time with each other if it wasn’t necessary. You agreed to try to be civil with him when Seb, your brother, asked you to be nice since he wanted you to get along with the new team he joined. For as long as you could remember, you were always there to support Seb at races when you could. You loved meeting the people he got to work with and learning more about the sport. It just so happened that the only person who rubbed you the wrong way was Lance and the air of cockiness that seemed to surround his every move.

So the universe probably thought it was being really funny when it decided to have you and Lance stuck in a room together. “Why are you even here?” “You’re literally in my room. I should be asking you that.” Lance deadpans. You feel your cheeks heating up, annoyed that he does have a point. You power on anyway. “No. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be doing driver stuff like analyzing data instead of just sitting here?” You pull your phone out as you say this, thinking about whether you want to bother your brother or not. You know Seb would make sure you were okay, but you also know how important his time with his team is and you don’t want to interrupt any of his sessions. “I don’t know how this concerns you, but I was actually just changing out of my race suit when you barged in.” You look at the direction Lance has pointed to and see a discarded race suit sitting in a pile on the floor. “And you don’t lock your door when you change?” “Clearly not because I’m always desperately wishing you come in and catch me changing.” You roll your eyes at Lance’s sarcasm. “I’m sure you do.” Silence envelopes the room and you stare at the floor for quite some time, once again weighing your options to just phone your brother. Lance is typing something on his phone. “You can sit down, you know. The floor is quite comfortable.” He jokingly offers after a while. You look at Lance, sitting comfortably on the large couch. “Glad to know I’m only worth sitting on the floor.” Lance rolls his eyes. “Do you want to sit beside me?” He offers, the expression on his face revealing he’s sure you would rather not. “I think I do.” You reply, just to challenge him. It’s always a game with Lance. You plop yourself on the opposite end of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible. “If you scoot over just a bit more, you’ll end up on the floor anyway.” “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want me to sit closer to you.” You tease. Lance scoffs. “Where are you pulling this out of?” You move marginally closer to him. Lance shifts in his seat, unfamiliar with the new space (or lack, thereof) between you two.

“Are you getting nervous, Stroll?” You say, placing your hand between the both of you to steady yourself as you lean forward. Lance meets your eyes, holding your gaze. The atmosphere in the room has suddenly shifted, the awkwardness that Lance initially had disappearing as quickly as it came. He leans forward and says, “I think you are.” You’re about to say something back when suddenly you feel something touch your hand. You glance down and see that Lance’s hand had landed on top of yours as he was leaning forward. You look back up and raise an eyebrow at Lance. “Well, I think you are trying to make a move on me.” Lance does not move his hand from yours. “And if I am?” You smirk, amused by the situation. “And if you are, what?” Lance eyes move from yours down to your lips. “And if I am making a move on you, what does that mean to you?” His eyes meet yours again. “Well, what does it mean to you?” You tease. Somehow, the space separating the two of you has grown even smaller. “You just can’t answer properly, can you?” You nod in reply. “Sometimes, I wish you would just shut up.” Lance continues. “I didn’t even say anything.” You whisper now, the both of you way closer than you’d ever imagined possible. You can see how brown his eyes are, never really noticing before how pretty a shade they are. “But all of the other times, I know you do it on purpose to rile me up.” Lance’s hand is now drawing circles on yours. “It’s just so fun to do when it’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Actually-“ Your train of thought is cut off as Lance suddenly eliminates the space between you both. The first thing that enters your head is: oh my god we’re actually kissing. The next thing is: oh my god he’s actually really good at this.

You kiss him back after a while, your free hand now resting on his chest. Lance moves his hand from the one resting on top of yours to your waist, squeezing gently. You let out a small gasp at the contact and Lance takes that opportunity to deepen the kiss. You break away from the kiss, moving down to his neck and planting kisses. Lance pulls you on top of him, making you straddle him. “So that’s how to get you to shut up.” He says, his hands running up and down the sides of your body. He brings your face level back to his and kisses you again. You push yourself closer to his body, feeling his excitement by your inner thighs. He groans in the kiss. You start shifting your hips forward and back, the feeling of your center rubbing against him building pressure in the bottom of your stomach. Lance starts kissing your jaw. “You look so hot right now, trying to get yourself off on me.” The pleasure you’re feeling multiplies, his words almost pushing you to the edge. You continue rocking back and forth on him as he whispers into your ear. Lance’s hands are now under your blouse, feeling you up. “That’s it, go on. Let yourself go.” You can’t believe you’re actually dry humping him right now, the thought of it so dirty in your head but strangely turning you on even more. You can tell Lance is turned on too, his hips moving with yours to help guide you. You can feel it build up. It’s coming. It’s coming. It’s-

“What the fuck?”

If there was ever a way to kill an orgasm as quickly as possible, it would be this. You and Lance are both frozen in place. You’ve stopped grinding on him but his hands are still on the skin in your back. You’re both staring at each other wide-eyed. That could only be the voice of your brother. “I came here because Lance is texting me, begging to get you out of his room that you’re both locked in and you’re doing this? What the fuck?” You can’t bring yourself to meet Seb’s eyes but you get yourself off of Lance immediately. You plop yourself next to Lance. “It just happened?” You offer, finally gaining the courage to look at your brother. Seb shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. He looks at the both of you, clearly displeased. “Yeah, whatever is going on here, fix yourselves. You’re both old enough. The door is unlocked so… Yeah. I don’t know what to say. This is awkward. I don’t wanna walk into that again.” Seb scratches his head as he quickly walks out of the room, now confused at how to approach the situation.

You and Lance are alone in his room again. You both say nothing for a while until you glance at him and see he’s already looking at you. You can’t say anything, but you start laughing. He starts laughing too. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you texted my brother. Are you actually insane?” You hide your face in your hands. “Well, I figured he was going to make sure you were out quicker.” You groan, embarrassed already at the thought of facing your brother again. You get up, shaking your head. “Yeah. Remind me never to get locked in a room with you.” Lance simply chuckles. “Well, you know where to find me if ever you want to anyway.”

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Reminiscence - Second Tempo

A/N: So! Second Tempo is a continuation of the First Tempo posted here. Just like the last, it’s part of the Haikyuu! HQ Server Collab; check out the rest of the work on the flaming smut pile.  ===================================================

“Oi, it’s Ukai. Leave a message.” “Oh, Keishin…” Your body writhed against your fingers, phone pressed against your ear as another gasping moan ripped through you. The pads of your fingertips glided over your sensitive nub effortlessly as you grinned into the phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. The game of cat and mouse had been going on for well over six months between yourself and Keishin; the ceaseless war of attrition had the teams and your students wondering who would break first. An international volleyball conference had you and the Karasuno girls’ team pulled away from Miyagi, from the handsome coach with those sharp, leering eyes.

“I know you’re away for training camp with the team…But I need you, Keishin.” Lust coated every syllable, each word dripping with desire as your fingers teased over your nipples and dripping folds. Another lascivious moan echoed into the receiver as you slipped a single dainty finger into your twitching hole. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of myself…god, I wish it was your fingers slipping inside this tight, needy hole…” Sprawled out on your hotel room bed fresh from a shower, your wet hair plastered itself against your neck as you continued to rock into your own hand. 

He invaded your thoughts; like intrusive kudzu he wrapped himself around your senses even halfway across the world. Did he know how you had ruined two pairs of panties at the last voicemail he sent you before the girls’ last match that day? Did he realize how desperate you were to be home? Could he hear it in your voice? 

“Keishin,” you whined out, fingertip just brushing your g-spot. With a soft growl, you snatched your phone from your ear and put the device on speaker so you could angle yourself to reach deeper. With your body able to contort a little easier, the phone rested next to your flushing face against the pillowcase. Your body jolted into waves of pleasure as your legs tensed into your stroking. “Fuck, I can’t wait to come home, oh fuck, oh fuck, Keishin…”

The familiar stars dotted your vision as you bucked into your hand, clit rubbing fitfully into the meat of your delicate palm. You could almost see the flash of bleached-blond hair, the tanned skin stretched across those long, toned forearms. Painfully arching your wrist to drive your curling fingers into that familiar, soft spot you clenched tightly around your thin digits. You couldn’t fight the orgasm that threatened to overtake you quicker than anticipated. “Oh, fuck, Kei…Keishin!” Your words were gasping, breathless sounds, the same sounds he took pride in drawing out of you. 

“It should be your cock I’m cumming on. Why isn’t it your cock, Keishin? Fuck, I…” Another cry left you trembling as you came around your fingers. The ecstacy you felt solo was a pale shade of what you had grown used to with the snarky coach. You whimpered into the phone and shifted the sheets around you, arms hopelessly searching for him in the stark white abyss of your hollow afterglow. 

“I can’t wait to see you, Keishin…Until then,” you closed and hung up the phone. A small grin bloomed over your features as you came down from your brief high. The back and forth of phone tag and stolen video chats for the past week made you long for the thug-faced twenty-something coach fiercer than you could imagine. For the moment, the extra pillows in your bed would have to suffice as a sub-par substitute before you could nuzzle into the warmth and inhale the smoke and sweat from his skin again.

~

It was a long day of drills and penalties for the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club at the joint training camp with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The boys continued to run themselves full tort against the other two teams, trying to refine and rebuild their skills on the court. Keishin found himself getting frustrated with the lack of progress the team was making, even considering the upperclassmen were bordering on complacency. Daichi assured him they were trying their best and maybe it was time for their coach to take a break. 

He ambled from the gym with a lazy kind of grace and fumbled for his cigarettes and phone from his pockets. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voicemail notification he saw across the screen. The tiniest of cocky grins stretched his mouth into a crooked curve as his thumb hovered over the play button. “Damn, must’ve just missed her,” he sighed, pressing play and holding the phone to his ear. The second your moan, your deliciously sinful voice graced his ears his face heated up and his ears flushed a deep red. Your voice went straight to the growing tent in his sweats, an ache he would be sure you repay you for in kind when you returned. The wailing fit on the other end was audible to passers by as the flustered coach turned the volume down with thick, numb thumbs. A dark-haired Fukurodani student passed by, green eyes narrowed at the coach’s flustered appearance and wordlessly made his way into the gym, no doubt to start another four-on-four match with the boys of Karasuno. At the end of your message, Keishin leaned into the brick of the gym and finally lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, longer than he would have normally if it wasn’t for your scintillating voicemail. Once his heart slowed, his thumbs furiously typed out a reply. K- You could have warned me, little girl. Y- And ruin the surprise? You liked it. :)

K- Time and place. Y- Is that all you have to say? :( This different timezone stuff is the worst, Keishin.

K- That’s something we can agree on. It’s just another day, right? Y- I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Closing ceremonies run until tomorrow afternoon, but flight leaves a day after. K- Text me next time, little girl. And tell the girls to kick ass during their last exhibition match. Y- Does it make you mad that my team’s doing better than yours, Mr. Big Bad Daddy Crow? >:D

K- Just wait, little girl. You haven’t earned your wings yet. We’ll see how much fight you have in you with my hand around that pretty neck of yours and your lips wrapped around my cock. 

He chuckled darkly at the thought of your ruined face, chest heaving, gasping for oxygen as he held your lips against the hilt of his cock. He knew you well enough to know that your face would be about thirty shades redder than his was listening to your siren song after reading his message. God, you were never more beautiful to him than when you were sobbing out for release, begging for him to make you his. Fewer things kept him warmer at night when his wide palm wrapped around his cock than thoughts of you with that lewd, haunting passion playing in your eyes. When you didn’t reply, he shook his blond head and snuffed out his smoldering cigarette filter against the wall. Of course you’d have your fingers stuffing your cunt; it couldn’t compare to his touch. He adjusted his headband deftly and pocketed his phone again, only glancing down at his cock, half-mast for a moment before another distraction pulled him away from his thoughts. Two days were going to feel like an eternity. At least he had your voice in his pocket. 

~

You yawned as your girls took the court in their last match against the American team. The manager eyed you suspiciously as you blearily watched the game unfold. “Long night, Coach?” You nodded and hummed, rubbing your eyes. The boy stood a whole head taller than you, appraising your drowsy visage. “Must be hard being away from home.” “Mmmhm. It’s easy to miss home from so far away.” “I’m sure Coach Ukai feels the same way, Y/n.” “Toshi!” Your tone was scandalized in your chiding as the younger boy stifled a chuckle. “We should be focusing on the girls. How do you think they’ll do today?” He smiled, pride swelling as he watched his team warm up. “It’s been a long week.” “They’re tired, but they’ll push through. We’ve taken the W with less in the tank before.” It was your turn to feel proud of your girls. It was true– their rise to the top, for the acknowledgement that came with the invite to a tourney on the international stage was huge, even if it was just an exhibition tourney. There was something about the game that kept you grounded despite the tumultuous turns of your life. It brought you back to those long-thought forgotten memories, brought you closer to your high-school crush. Part of you was glad you took on coaching the counterpoint to the boys’ club; it brought meaning to your career to that point. “Michimiya! Remember, it’s supposed to be fun!” you called out to your team captain, Toshi nodding in agreement solemnly from the sidelines. Aihara, your ace nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before the ball went into play. Before the other team had a chance to receive the serve, your attention was pulled from the court to the vibrating phone in your tracksuit pocket. You had half a mind to silence it, leave it ignored and let it go to voicemail. Your attention should have been on your team, your girls, but… You pulled the phone from your pocket and bit your lip at the sight of his name reading across the screen. You excused yourself from the sidelines and made your way to the hallway leading to the locker room, bringing the device to your ear. “You were gonna keep me waiting, little girl? That’s no way to earn your wings,” his voice rasped out between hurried pants. “Oh, fuck…” Heat crept up your neck from your neat, white tracksuit jacket. Suddenly, everything was too hot. You worried your lip between your teeth and fought back a whimper as Keishin growled in your ear. You did some quick maths in your dazed state and gasped into your phone. “You should be asleep, Keishin! It’s nearly two in the morning…” “Couldn’t sleep, not when I had to get you back, naughty little girl. Did it feel good cumming on those fingers without me? Did it satisfy you knowing you were cumming without my permission? Was it worth it?” “I…” “Answer me, little girl,” he continued to groan, the sound of skin gliding across skin caressing your eardrums between his moans. You could practically feel his smug expression over the phone. The sinful breath on your ear had you wishing you could be there to watch, to touch him and run your fingers through his hair as he worked his cock in that large hand he loved to wrap around your blushing throat. “I’m waiting,” he teased. “It can’t compare,” you whispered, striding with hurried steps into the locker room. His voice frayed at the edges and had you practically dripping down your thighs under your track pants. The power his voice had over your body was undeniable. “I couldn’t help myself. I…” “Aw, poor little bird. At least you’re honest.” You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat at the nickname, but struggled. Mouth dry and thighs coated in your slick, you struggled to find your way back to reason, to the here and now. Half a world away, you sunk to the locker room bench and let out a shuddering sigh at the sound of the other coach’s debauched moans. He was close, that much you could tell. How long had he been stroking that thick cock? Was he imagining your lips cradling his glans, your saliva dripping down his balls? Could he see you dragging his head along your lips and your eyes peering up at him through a fringe of dark lashes? How many times did he listen to your voicemail before he thought to call you and dish out a dose of your own medicine? “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me like I need you, little girl.” “I…I want you,” you whimpered, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear. You fumbled with your track pants and slid them hastily to your knees, your practiced fingers rubbing yourself through your soaked cotton panties. “Oh, Keishin, I need you.” You bit back a soft moan, still tender from your activities from the night prior. “That’s it, little bird. Don’t stifle yourself. Let me hear you. Where did that gorgeous voice go?” “I…Keishin, I’m at the tournament,” you gasped, that sensitive nub twitching with arousal under your busy fingertips. He let out a surprised grunt and you swore you could feel him double over on himself. “Fuck…fuck, Y/n, I never took you to be such an exhibitionist. My little bird’s getting brave on me, huh?” The sound of the door to the locker room opening made you freeze for a second before shuffling your pants back up your thighs. “Coach? Coach, are you okay? The other team’s called a time-out. Did you want to do a swap?” Toshi’s earnest voice echoed in the otherwise empty room as you struggled to get the words out without sounding like you were another second away from moaning like a porn star for the man on the other side of your call. “Answer him, little bird. Don’t stop touching that clit for me. Let’s see you earn those wings…” “Ah…yeah, have Watabe swap in. I…I need a minute. Must have been something I ate this morning.” Keishin grinned on the other end, still stroking himself languidly as he listened to you lie through your teeth to your team manager. When you heard him retreat back into the gym, you let out a shuddering sigh, your legs trembling around your hand. “Such a good little bird. I’m close. You gonna come with me?” You nodded as if he could see you, still focused on the sounds coming from your phone. His breath hitched as he choked on his moans, movement stilling on his end of the phone call. You gasped in tandem, fingertips slipping inside your waiting heat. He must have known you were close based on your breathing alone. He let you continue until he howled out his release, leaving you breathless at how completely beautiful he could sound coming undone at the thought of you. “Please, please, Keishin,” you huffed out, sweat trickled down your neck as you ground yourself into your fingers, stretching against your slick, velveteen walls. “Stop.” “But-” “I said stop, Y/n.” “But…but Keishin…” “Naughty little girls don’t get to cum when they’re bad. Mm, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck, Y/n,” he teased again before hanging up. You sat in silence, frustrated and slick with your own fluids. Aggravated, you pulled your pants up the rest of the way and stripped off your jacket. Approaching the sink, you patted cool water against your burning skin and stared yourself down in the mirror. So it was another challenge he wanted? You had him eating crow out of your beautifully manicured hands before and you could do it again. Your team wouldn’t be the only ones getting a win. A plan came together, neatly, quickly despite the lingering haze of lust. Spite and frustration cut through your need like a white hot razor, and all you could fixate on was the thrill of victory both on and off the court. “Setters aren’t the only big brains on the court,” you mused to yourself as you reappeared on the court, hands buried deeply into your pockets. Toshi cast a sidelong glance in your direction, subtly taking in the hard set of your jaw and the color rising in your cheeks as you stared down the opposing team’s coach from across the gym. You grit your teeth, eyes dark with determination. If he wasn’t mistaken, he almost thought you were taking this game more seriously than just a simple exhibition match. Regardless of the reason, the team manager found himself grateful he wasn’t the object of your ire. “Hit it ‘til it breaks, Sasaki!!” Your yell rattled the team manager as it echoed through the gym over the roar of the crowd. The puddle in your panties only fueled your frustration the longer you dwelled on Keishin’s denial. You wanted to breathe smoke, to destroy something beautiful just to prove you could. “Stupid, big-brain setter,” you growled under your breath as your team took another point from the Americans. “Coach, why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about the other team?” “C’mon, girls, you’re better conditioned than that!! Go for the kill!!” “Yeah, you’re definitely not talking about the other team.” The conference couldn’t be done soon enough, and the next two days were going to feel like the longest of their lives. ~ Few things in life brought Keishin Ukai more solace than quiet mornings over a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have made it better was your groggy face smiling sleepily across the table at him. Sunlight bled through the kitchen blinds, staining everything in garish gold and yellow in the pale light. Hair loose, he carded his long fingers through his bedhead with casual grace and absently scrolled through his phone as the coffee continued to brew. It would be just a few hours before you would be home; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for your return. In the safety of his home, he could let some of that boyish glee bleed out as he searched through your old photos. As if he could forget your face, the sway of those devastating hips, or the way you’d catch your lower lip between your teeth when you were flustered. As much as he owned you, the power you held over him and his emotions was undeniable. From the moment you stepped foot on his court he was your willing captive. He set his phone aside to pour himself his first of what would be many cups of coffee. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heady aroma, dark and bitter before it hit his tongue. Relaxing in his seat a little more, he sighed through his nose. The chiming of a text alert pulled him from his brief reprieve. Y- Good morning, Daddy Crow :D! We’ll be home in a few hours. I can’t wait to see you. Keishin chuckled into his steaming mug and took a long sip. Wryly amused and even a little annoyed by your pet name for him, he typed out his reply unhurried. K- We’ll see how tired you are when you get back. Ten hours and change is a long time to spend in the air.

Y- Don’t remind me. No idea what I’m going to do to stay occupied. 

K- I can think of a few distractions. 

He waited, watching the ellipsis flicker over the text banner for your reply, his heart rate picking up in anticipation. What fresh hell awaited him when you finally hit send? Vaguely he had an idea of how badly you wanted to get back at him for leaving you hanging during his last call, but you were too sweet, far too forgiving to want revenge. Y- I’m sure you can. What do you have lined up for today?

K- Not a thing. Just waiting on you. It wasn’t like you to not take his bait; he could practically feel the ice from your reply. Was it the distance? You were only gone for a week, but was it enough time for your relationship to cool? “Shit,” he muttered, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he reread your reply another six times. “Guess she is mad…” He mused and fussed over your text before lighting the paper tip and taking a careless drag. The blue-gray haze hung around his kitchen like a comforting veil. He waited another moment before he saw you typing another response. He tore his gaze away from the device to ash his cigarette in an empty beer bottle he had sitting on the kitchen table; when he returned to it, the sight that met him had him melting in his chair. Your delicate frame was seated on a sea of white, the barest hint of emerald lace curling in elegant patterns along the swell of your ass. Hair pulled to one side in effortless waves of jet, your bare back was on full display, tantalizing him with the gentle curve of your spine and adorable dimples framing your tailbone. Your face in profile, he could see the faint rose dusting your cheeks and nose, the dreamy sparkle playing in your eyes as you held your breasts away from view. He knew that far-away gaze all too well– it played behind your eyes when you would look at him, when you would think about his strong hands exploring your body. His eyes lingered on the definition of your thighs, all the while longing he could feel them squeezing his head as you trembled into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t the lewdest photo he’d ever seen, but it hit differently when it was you. His mouth went dry and he felt himself get lost in every detail, as if he could memorize every scar, every freckle if he stared long enough. Y- Enjoy your distraction, Keishin.

When did you find the time to take photos? Was that the only one? Questions raced through his mind as he lingered on the picture, fingertip tracing along the swell of your hips. God, he was such a sucker for those wide hips and built thighs. He might have admired your drive and ability to keep up and run drills with your team, but he really wanted to see just how far he could push you until you broke.

“It’s just ten more hours. I can hold out for ten hours.” ~ Six months together and it took a week apart for him to salivate over the smell of your perfume. All the distance, despite the frequent calls and text messages, only intensified his undeniable thirst. You were his meet-cute, the high school crush who got away. There would always be that part of him that wondered how he got so lucky crossing your path not once but twice in his lifetime. If he were a betting man, he’d probably put more stock in fate or soulmates after meeting you, but it wasn’t his style to be so sentimental. Travel always took a lot out of you. Keishin caught you yawning on your way from the baggage claim, only aware enough to know where to step without tripping. Grinning like a fiend, he took his moment and pulled you into an empty lounge. Startled, you swung your first and jerked out of his hold, only stopping your thrashing when you caught the bemused twenty-something rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Fucking hell, is that anyway to say hello, little girl?” “Oh my god, Keishin!” Your hands flew to his face and he could have died a happy man on the spot. “I’m so sorry! You can’t just do that!” Your chest tightened at the rumbling chuckle that reverberated under your fingertips. “Keishin,” you sighed, holding his stubbled face in your thin hands. Studying the sharp planes of his face, your eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was here, real under your palms flashing that same cocksure grin that had you flustered since you first stepped up to challenge him on the court. “You gonna keep staring at me or what, little bird? C’mon, let’s ge-!” Rising to your toes, you pulled him to your lips and left him struggling to catch his breath, your perfume lingering after you withdrew and bounced away, tugging him along from the airport lobby. Head swimming, he followed, allowing you to lead him around until you remembered who drove and the simple fact that you had no idea where the car was. It was easy to forget you were an accomplished adult when you let your excitement take the wheel, but it brought Keishin closer to what might have been before you disappeared when you were still children. He never got the chance to watch you play back then, a regret he tucked away with the first night you murmured his name in your sleep. His single-minded ambition kept him from really seizing the chance to get to know you as a person instead of an idea back then. Packed away in his well-loved sedan, you couldn’t help but fidget in the passenger seat, anxiously bouncing your foot below the dash. Unfazed, he reached over and placed a hand on your knee, halting the bouncing movement with a stern glance. Color bloomed in your cheeks at the gesture, body relaxing just enough under the warmth of his palm. Braver still, he slowly ran his fingertips along the line of your thigh, stopping just below the clothed apex of your leg. Keishin never took his eyes off the road, but he knew just where to brush to make your blood sing. He followed your movements, subtly tracking your reactions to his innocent caressing. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, little bird.” 

The bait was set, almost painfully obvious as you continued to squirm into his waiting palm. “I’m not shy. I’m..”

“You’re what? Use your words,” he smirked, dragging his knuckles against your sex. The motion was so casual you might have applauded him for his audacity if it hadn’t been a week since you felt him touch you. Muddled between your jet lag and the growing haze of lust ensnaring your senses, you fumbled over your words and whimpered something about thinking about how much you missed him. “That’s what I thought.” Whether it was the nonchalance or the gentle pressure he exerted on your core, you felt yourself slip closer into that familiar euphoric headspace. It was almost embarrassing how wrapped around his finger he had you; it wouldn’t be long before he’d have you wrapped around him literally as well. 

~

You wanted to scream, to gnash your teeth and beat something to a bloody pulp. At least you could take out your frustrations on the court. The girls took the day to strength train in the school’s weight room, leaving you to your own devices in the second gym. You could see his almost-apologetic face, the slight upturn of his lips when he sent you to work with a chaste peck on your hair. 

“I just couldn’t bear to wake you…”

“Tch, likely story. Stupid, big-brain setter!” You hissed through your teeth and imagined it was his disembodied head you were spiking over the net with a satisfying crack. Your attentive team manager threw another ball and watched as you continued to fume. 

“Are you trying to pop a ball, sensei?" 

"Less talk, more throw, Toshi.” He shook his head and tossed another ball, only for you to bounce it off the floor twice to center yourself before your inevitable spike. Unsatisfied, you shook your ponytail and jogged to the opposite end of the gym to practice your jump serve. Toshi watched on, hanging his head as you sent another ball flying in his direction. “Jesus Christ, Himewari!” he screeched, ducking out of the way. You huffed in irritation, barely registering the clattering of gym doors opening. The ball rested daintily in your hand, your eyes narrowed with the smooth rubber leaving your palm before the inevitable punch. Keishin knew better than to leave the safety of the annex when you were serving, but he could watch you soar forever. Leaned against the cool wall, his headband gently digging into his scalp with his blond head resting into the drywall, he couldn’t help the crinkle of his eyes when your hand finally connected with the abused ball. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on your skin, the crop top you wore doing nothing to temper his wandering gaze. As you hung in the air, he hummed to himself, remembering Shimizu’s words when he first saw you serve. “You really do have wings, little bird…” When you landed and reached for another ball he made his presence known, his footsteps falling faintly over your light panting. This was how he liked you best, dark hair mussed and sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, that he wasn’t the one making you such a mess. He stopped just a few feet behind you only to catch the tail end of your cursing his name for leaving you high and dry on your return. As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, like catching the faint scent of ozone on the wind before a squall, Toshi took his leave and escaped into the weight room, leaving you alone with the other coach. Caught mid-approach, Keishin wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and buried his nose into your ponytail. You froze at the sudden intrusion of your personal space and the ball fell from your waiting palm, its fall echoing through the empty gym. “Thought I’d find you here,” he purred. Hackles raised, you pushed away from him and made a dash for your club jacket. Keishin used his height and longer legs to his advantage and followed close behind. If it was a chase you wanted, he’d give it to you. He let you sprint to the locker room, hand resting on the handle before he turned you by the shoulders and caged you against the wall between his arms. Looming over you, he smirked and licked his lips at the deepening flush creeping down your neck and across your collarbones. He smelled like tobacco and neroli, his cologne making your head spin. The smoke lingering on his breath had your thoughts racing– you were in high school again, fantasizing about being trapped in those arms with those sharp eyes drinking your timid expression so patiently. “What’s the matter, little girl?” he started smugly. His pupils dilated, leaning his head in to bear down on you further. “Can’t rise to the challenge? Where’d all that fight go?” Keishin licked his teeth and breathed into your ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he teased, running his nose along your hairline. Your breath hitched; how did he always know how to make you feel so small? The thought incited more anger, more fuel to the fire burning in your belly as you jerked your ear away from his hot breath. “No, you don’t get to do that. I’m not going to let you win that easily, Keishin.” Your voice was low, almost dangerous. The animosity was one-sided, and the other coach snickered at your new-found boldness. “I don’t think you get it, little bird,” he growled, wrapping a firm hand around your thin neck. “I’ve already won.” Swallowing hard, you worried your lower lip between your teeth, his favorite tell, and stared him in the eye. The predatory gleam made you weak in the knees– he knew it. He could feel you falter under his capable palm as he gave your neck a gentle squeeze. Keishin loved seeing you like this– wrestling between reason and your desires, pinned beneath him with that fire burning behind your eyes as if to remind him that you only permitted his control because you knew how completely yours he really was. The nip of his teeth on your earlobe sent you reeling, swooning into his stubbled cheek. “Please,” you whispered. “Not here.” “No? You sure?” As if to capitalize on your wavering resolve, he raised a knee to rest just between your thighs, a silent dare to test him and see just how far he’d make you go. Instinctively, you ground your pelvis against his knee and shuddered at the delicious pressure on your core. He grinned against your cheek. “Because I think this is exactly where you want it.” Hips rocking, your anger slowly melted away as he continued to tease you, still pinning you to the door by the throat. “I think you like the idea of almost getting caught, little bird.” Your whimpers doused kerosine on the slow burning embers he stoked with his teasing. “Keishin,” you gasped, his free hand trailing down your sticky body to pull your hip hard into his waiting erection, grip hard enough you were sure you’d have bruises by the time he was done. “We don’t-” “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” Your thighs squeezed around his knee, cunt fluttering at the thought of your combined spend trickling down your thighs on the walk home. His grin was sinful, eyes sharp and hungry as you melted into his knee. He could feel your slick soaking through your shorts, the sensation earning a groan you just barely made out. “Mark you as my little crow inside and out,” he purred, long fingers feathering along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah, I think you like that idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You caught his gaze through your dark lashes, leaning into his hand and waiting hips as if to lay your own bait. Your own hands caught in his hair and pulled his headband down. How you loved running your fingers through those blond waves; you rolled your hips and gave his hair an experimental tug, earning a low groan in return. He surged forward and captured your lips, a fight for dominance to the end. Tongue tracing hungrily along the curl of your lips, he softened his hold on your neck and pulled you closer. Hand on your nape, he let out a hiss when you bit him, a flash of blood lingering on your lip in return with a satisfied grin. “Oh, cocky now?” Keishin gave your shorts a shove over your generous hips. Anxiety and excitement bubbled in your chest as you squirmed against him. He was still hard muscle and sinew despite years away from the court, more than enough to handle you at your worst. “Let’s see you be cocky now, little bird.” His fingers glided along your sopping cunt, earning a sharp moan at the sudden brush along your neglected clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck,” he breathed, too enraptured by your responsive body. “Keishin, please,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders as his deft fingers continued to tap and rub slow, agonizing circles around your glistening clit. “Please, please fill me…” “How quickly your resolve falls apart, my little crow,” he purred into your hair, fingers now sliding into your drooling pussy. You bit back another moan, head arching back into the door as Keishin scissored his fingers against your already fluttering walls. “You’re fucking drenched.” “Please, please…I need you. I need to feel you, Keishin.” Legs trembling, you rocked into his hand, keening at the pressure his hardened fingertips exerted on your g-spot. Even accidentally, he had a way of luring out the most beautifully debauched moans from you. He continued to work you open, trying to make up for a week without laying claim to you in the span of minutes. Keishin growled low, feeling himself get lost in your whining, in the warm squeeze of your welcoming cunt around his fingers, in how completely devoted he was to hearing you moan his name like that one more time. You heard the zip after you felt the lonesome ache of loss, only to be filled again to the hilt with a gasping cry. Keishin grit his teeth and leaned into your writhing frame, bracing himself against the door as you squeezed his cock from head to hilt like a velvet vice. “W-wrap your leg around my hip,” he ordered shakily, peering at you through a curtain of soft gold. You did as instructed and felt him wrap his arm around your back, pulling you closer as he rocked into your heat with a moan of his own. “So fucking tight, Y/n…” Stars faded throughout your vision and left you feeling dazed. “So good,” he moaned, resting his forehead against yours to glance down where your bodies connected. You balanced on your toes, meeting his thrusts with your own. “Keishin,” you cried in return, arching your back off the locker room door as your first climax claimed you. Keishin grit his teeth and fucked you through the first of many, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper still, earning a harsh shriek. “Keishin, don’t stop!” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he groaned, bottoming out with a stutter. “It’s like you were made for me.” You let out another cry, clinging to the coach as tears pricked your eyes. He rutted against your cervix with a pained grin, knowing the longer he pressured against that button the sooner you’d be begging to be filled and defiled. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, slowing as your walls clenched around his cock with the advent of another orgasm. You trembled helplessly against him, body practically weightless in his arms as he continued to prolong your pleasure if only to draw out his own. When you came down, you brushed your nose along his and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Toes curling in your trainers at the devastating sight in front of you, you gave another keening cry and buried your face into his shoulder. “Y’know, for someone so worried about being caught you sure are loud.” He grinned into your hair and hammered his hips into yours, earning another loud wail in protest and in pleasure. Your nails caught the tanned skin of his back, a vicious trail of red left in their wake as he brought you to another peak. “That’s three…” You bucked against him, fitfully chasing again after that same high only his cock could bring you. His name a prayer on your lips, he allowed you to take because you gave him so much in return. Every moan, every gush of your juices around his cock he took and devoured, knowing you wouldn’t be afraid to earn his end in return. “I can feel you twitching, Keishin. You’re close, Daddy Crow.” His hips stuttered as you whispered the pet name into his ear, holding you tightly as he bottomed out in your spasming cunt. “Hard not to when you’re fucking milking me.” He’d never admit it, but he would stay buried inside you forever if you’d let him. Only the unsynchronized whisper of your breathing and the slick slap of skin on skin surrounded the two of you in the empty gym. Entangled with the other coach in the darkened hallway, you found his lips to muffle another moan when your attention was pulled away from your bliss by the slamming of the gym doors. 

"Coach Himewari! We’re getting ready to go!” It was Michimiya your team captain. Her footfalls echoed softly, rubber tapping against the laminated wood. She paused for a moment when you didn’t answer. Keishin grinning sadistically against your lips, he held your hips flush against his, grinding his cock into that spot that frayed the edges of your vision and made your quiver around his girth. “Hm, I guess she already left…” the team captain mused before shuffling closer to the locker room door, only to quickly turn away at the opening of the door. 

“Come on, Yui! Let’s just go! Toshi can catch us up later.” Grateful for Aihara pulling her friend’s focus, you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. Keishin redoubled his efforts, dragging his teeth along the hollow of your neck. Even muffled your moans were music to his degenerate ears. You stiffened against him with the sinking of his teeth into your neck, a stifled cry and final squeeze signaling your end. Keishin wasn’t too far behind, growling into your salt-slicked skin. The heavy doors clattered shut as he moaned out his release, the heat building in your core as he spasmed into your waiting womb. 

“Fuck me, Keishin…” you breathed, half chuckling half panting. He held against you, comfortable in your combined heat as he peppered soothing kisses along your neck and into your hairline. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like almost getting caught.”

He hissed, slowly withdrawing from your core and watched as his cum slowly started trickling from your pulsating hole down your sturdy thighs. He tucked himself back into his jeans and watched you languish against the wall for a moment, playful grin lighting his face. Deftly he collected the escaping seed and shoved it back into your abused cunt, earning a pained whimper before he pulled your panties and shorts back up to keep the rest from spilling. “Don’t waste it, little crow.” He wiggled his fingers along your lips and you greedily sucked them clean with wide, innocent eyes. Your combined taste coated your tongue, sweet and bitter all at once. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

Your anger evaporated, you slumped against him, head resting comfortably into his chest. “I’m ready for a nap, daddy crow…” you whined. Blond hair slicked with swear, he carded those long fingers through and hoisted you up onto his shoulder, carrying you out of the gym with your mess ruining your panties and shorts. 

“Oh no you don’t. As soon as we get home you’re making up for every voicemail and tantrum, Y/n.” It was going to be a long night. 

[ifmywishescametrue]

"You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better." for buckytony pls 🤓

thank you for sending one! it got kind of out of hand lol so here's 2.2k of breaking up and making up. hope you like it!

Tony loses track of what the fight is about fairly quickly. He knows it started with what seemed like playful bickering, the kind their relationship was practically built on, but somewhere along the way the jabs turned much more pointed. Barbed wire wrapped around them, until each one was like a knife wound.

The first real cut came from him, he knows. Bucky's witty comment hit a little too close to one of his hundred insecurities, and reflex made him return it with too much sharpness. He can't blame Bucky for reacting, but they're both to blame for letting it get this out of hand. That’s not something that matters in the moment, though.

In the moment, all that matters is the careless insults and merciless words they lob back and forth. They chip away at each other and their relationship until it’s crumbling around them, but even that doesn’t matter. It becomes secondary to getting in the last word and one-upmanship, like it’s a competition for who can hurt who the most that they both desperately want to win, consequences be damned.

“You know this is why people keep leaving you,” Bucky says. “At some point it should be pretty damn obvious that it's you, not them.”

Tony laughs bitterly because the only other choice is crying. “Cause you're a real fucking prize, right? Bet people are just lining up to date a guy they're barely allowed to touch. And God forbid you ever try to do something nice for him, because it'll never actually be right.”

“Better than a guy with daddy issues so severe it'll take him two years to even tell you he loves you. Don't bother saying it in the meantime to him either, because he'll run off to hide for a week after each time.”

“Well, you know what, I'll make it easy for you, then,” Tony says, backing away to grab his jacket. “You don't have to worry about me and all my issues anymore.”

He forcefully shoves his arms into the sleeves and grabs his keys from the hook by the door. Bucky watches with a clenched jaw and doesn't try to stop him, not even when he pauses to give him the chance.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead and run off. Prove my point.”

Tony shakes his head, an ache already forming in his chest that he ignores. “I’m not proving your point, because this isn’t running. This is breaking up with you because you’re a fucking asshole.”

He lets the door slam shut behind him and speedwalks down the hall, repeatedly pushing the elevator button. It doesn’t come quickly enough, and he flings open the door to the stairwell to rush down them. His vision blurs dangerously, and he can hardly see where he’s going, but he doesn’t slow down. The tears come freely with no around to see, until he’s out on the sidewalk and violently swipes them away with the back of his hand. He doesn’t pay attention to where he’s walking, only on getting as far away as possible.

Where he ends up shouldn’t come as a surprise to him. It’s muscle memory to come here at this point, a walk so familiar he could do it in his sleep and still manage to avoid all the cracks and uneven parts on the sidewalk on the way.

He stands outside of Shield’s Bar, neon lights coloring his face blue and pink, and he contemplates going in. It’s a Thursday, which means Clint is working the bar until midnight. Natasha will be waiting tables, and Steve will come in to replace her at ten.

All Bucky’s friends. He won’t get any of them in the breakup.

Steve will be the first to turn his back on him with his unwavering loyalty to his best friend. Clint will follow next because he hates tension and it’s the easier side to take. Natasha will be last, and she’ll claim that she loves them both and choosing sides is childish and ridiculous. But she’ll go, too, eventually. When none of her other friends will be in the same room as him, and all of their usual hangout spots become off limits. It’ll grow awkward and uncomfortable until promises to meet up turn into vague excuses and texts spaced months apart.

But where does he have to go if it isn’t here?

Rhodey’s on base in California, and Pepper moved back to New York the second her business degree was done. Staying in Boston was never the plan, not until Bucky and his found family welcomed him into their lives and made it feel like home. Where is there to go if home isn’t an option anymore?

He stands there long enough that people start to whisper as they pass by. They must think he’s lost his mind, staring blankly at a brick wall and hardly blinking, but he doesn’t hear what they say. Doesn’t hear anything but his own thoughts running in circles, going from anger to regret to shame and back again.

He wonders if Bucky’s right. If he truly is the reason it never works out. He knows he’s too insecure and emotionally unavailable. He demands too much and gives too little in return and doesn’t know how to communicate.

He used to watch his parents fight, orbiting around each other with avoidance and unspoken words until the dams broke and silence turned to screams, and he would swear that he would be better. If he was lucky enough to be in love with someone and have them love him in return, he would understand just how rare and beautiful that is and never take it for granted.

Easier said than done. Harder to face the fact that sometimes his words sound exactly like his father’s once did and sometimes he feels like his mother when he quietly lets himself be walked on and overlooked. The worst of both of them is tangled up inside of him, and it always kills whatever he touches.

Natasha finds him there eventually. She opens the door roughly, with intention that falters momentarily before she asks, “Do you plan on coming in at some point or are you staying out here all night?”

“I should probably go,” he says, quietly enough that it’s nearly lost to the wind.

Natasha watches him for a long moment, then steps out of the doorway to take his hand. She leads him over to an empty booth and slides into the opposite side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

She shrugs, “Steve will be here in a few minutes. No one’s going to die if they have to wait for their beer.”

Silence stretches on, and he stares down at his hands on the table. It’s warmer inside the bar, and he doesn’t realize that the cold has turned his fingers numb until they begin to unthaw.

“People coming in here were talking about some guy loitering outside. Some were saying he looked sad, some said lost. A few less optimistic people voted for strung out on drugs, but I think it’s safe to rule that one out now. Same with lost, seeing as you’ve been here a thousand times. That leaves sad, which means you had a fight with Bucky, and you didn’t come in, which means you think it’s your fault. Am I right so far?”

Tony nods, hanging his head low, and she continues to ask, “Do you want to talk about it or drink about it?”

“We broke up,” Tony mumbles. “I did it.”

She takes a long breath, and her hand is warm when it slips back into his. “Are you planning on fixing it?”

“Not sure it’s fixable. I said some things, he said some things. Can’t really take any of it back now.”

“People say things they don’t mean all the time. Doesn’t make it unforgivable.”

He shrugs like his heart isn’t broken. “Maybe it’s better off this way.”

Natasha sighs, “Tony.”

“What?”

“Go home.”

“Pretty sure I don’t have one of those anymore.”

“Of course you do,” she says softly. “I promise you that he wants you to come back.”

Tony shakes his head. “You weren’t there, Nat. You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened to know that he wants you to come home. If he feels even half as terrible as you look, he wants you. Just because you broke up doesn’t mean it’s over. It’s only over if you don’t go back.”

Tony bites his lip to keep it from quivering, and he asks, “What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Well, it can’t exactly make things worse, can it?”

He huffs a humorless laugh, “I guess not.”

Natasha slides out of the booth, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go home before he comes out looking for you, and text me in the morning to tell me I was right.”

She walks away, greeting Steve as he comes in, and Tony lingers there for another minute before getting up. He waves to them both on his way out and tries not to think about what she’ll tell Steve about his reason for being there.

The walk back to his and Bucky’s apartment seems quicker than the walk away from it, and Tony resents it for not giving him more time.

He takes the stairs again and hesitates outside the door, what ifs overwhelming his mind. What if he walks in and all of his things are packed up for him? What if Bucky isn’t even there or all of his belongings are gone instead? What if he can’t fix it and this is where it really ends? He doesn’t know if he could recover from that.

Turning the key in the lock, he opens the door slowly and holds his breath in trepidation.

Nothing looks different. No packed boxes, no smashed picture frames, no sign that anything ever went wrong.

Bucky is on the couch, curled into the corner with his legs held tight to his chest, and he doesn’t seem to notice that he isn’t alone anymore. It’s painfully quiet, and the single light that was on before isn’t enough now that it's grown darker outside, but he hasn’t turned any others on.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says into the silence. It’s as good a place as any to start. “You didn't deserve that. Any of it. The whole stupid thing. You deserve so much better. I should be better at this, but I’ve done a real shit job of it lately, I think. Maybe not even lately. Maybe I’ve been a terrible boyfriend the whole time, and in that case you should probably tell me to go and not come back, but I’d like to think there were at least moments where I was sort of okay, and I’d like to try to be more than just okay if you’ll let me.”

Bucky stares at him, lips parted and red-rimmed eyes unblinking. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Tony freezes, unsure of how to answer that, and Bucky unfolds himself to walk over and stand in front of him.

“You broke up with me,” Bucky says.

“Yes, but I -”

“No,” he interrupts. “You broke up with me.”

Tony frowns in confusion and slowly says again, “Yes.”

“That means I do the grovelling here, because I fucked it up. I beg for the second chance, because I crossed the line so far that you left. And I did it on purpose, too, because I had a shit day so I pushed until you pushed back,” Bucky explains. “And apparently I did such a good job being horrible to you that you think it’s your fault.”

Tony tries to process that, but it’s taking some time to work through. A complete turn around on his thoughts that almost makes him dizzy.

“Why did you have a shit day? What happened?”

“Is that really what you’re focusing on in all of that?” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief and runs a hand through his hair. “God, it’s you that deserves better. That’s what I’m telling you here. You were right to leave, and I should be the one telling you I’m sorry.”

“You had a bad day and took it out on me. How many times have I done the same to you? You never once left.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” Tony agrees. He reaches for one of Bucky’s hands, because he needs the contact and has a feeling that Bucky does too. “But it doesn’t mean it’s not worth working on. I meant what I said about wanting to be better for you.”

Bucky nods, looking down at their joined hands. “I want to be better for you, too. How do we do that?”

“A lot of talking about our feelings, probably.”

Bucky pulls a face. “God, that sounds terrible.”

Tony laughs, taking his other hand to pull him in closer, “Yeah, it does, but we’ll get better at it eventually.”

“Can we start tomorrow?” Bucky asks. He leans down to rest his forehead against Tony’s. “I’d really like to just hold you tonight.”

“Yeah, baby,” Tony murmurs. “Hold me tonight. It’ll be better in the morning.”

[tomhardysteeth]

Use Your Imagination

[ao3]

2.9k Eddie Brock/Venom Based entirely on the Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer

Eddie woke up to the feel of his body tugging indiscriminately out from his back. He sighed and reached behind himself, easily finding a tentacle and tickling it until it retreated back inside him.

Wake up, Eddie, Venom said cheerily, running a slimy three-pronged tendril across his face delicately. We’re hungry.

“Ugh, can’t you just bring me something in here?” Eddie replied grumpily, burying his face in his pillow.

No. Venom took control of his legs and lifted him up and onto the floor, and Eddie momentarily lost his balance before a tentacle righted him.

Eddie groaned and stretched his back, cracking it. He headed to the bathroom and took a piss while a tentacle brushed his teeth.

He was exhausted, because he and Venom had finally tracked down all the guys harassing Mrs. Chen and had spent half the night running—literally running—them down. But Venom was even more chaotically energetic than usual because it had gotten to eat three people.

And Eddie couldn’t drink caffeine anymore—Venom hated it—so he was resigned to his orange juice and to spending the entirety of the morning just trying to wake up. 

“Babe, what the hell are you making?” Eddie asked as his body shifted minutely with the extension of several tentacles all over the kitchen. 

Breakfast, Venom replied as it knocked several things out of the fridge and onto the floor.

“You can’t possibly be hungry.”

No, but you are. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how their digestive systems worked, but he knew his body didn't even notice when they ate people, and his appetite was completely different than it used to be and also completely different from humans in general. He had to eat big, disgusting meals at least three times a day, and despite Venom assuring him that they both needed the sustenance to survive, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that he had gained weight.

Not that he could get on a scale. He broke his bathroom scale when he tried, presumably because a massively dense alien inhabited his body. That being said, his belly stuck out farther than it used to and his jeans were too tight.

Venom was making a mess and singing along (terribly) to the radio, so Eddie took a seat at the kitchen table and tried to dig his phone out of the pocket of his robe with his hand, but a tentacle got to it first and handed it to him.

He scrolled for a few minutes, ignoring the crashing sounds and the fire that he could see in his peripheral vision. Venom would clean it all up eventually, so it was fine. 

“Don’t forget to feed the chickens,” Eddie said distractedly, still looking at his phone.

Don’t forget to feed the chickens, Venom mocked in a nagging voice. 

They always had a few chickens in their apartment that Eddie got from a local farmer so Venom could eat live meat whenever it needed it. Except for the one chicken Venom had apparently imprinted on and was actually just their pet. Venom had named her Popsicle.

Ta-da, Venom said as it dropped two plates stacked high with who knows what underneath the waffles. 

“Thanks, Vee. Looks great,” Eddie lied. 

Venom swirled the end of a tentacle across his face, and Eddie reached up a hand to hold it steady so he could kiss it. 

Venom always helped with eating, because despite Eddie’s weird appetites, he still found it difficult to actually put food to mouth without gagging a bit. He also hated how long it took to eat enough to make him full, so Venom took to mindlessly feeding him, quicker than Eddie could feed himself, while he checked his emails and read the news.

What do you want to do this weekend? Venom asked as it put a fork to Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled around the food.

Oooh, spicing it up a bit from last weekend when we did nothing.

Eddie huffed a laugh and reached for a limb, tangling his fingers through the threads of Venom’s biomass. 

After breakfast, Eddie got caught up in reading on his phone, so Venom took over control of his body and moved him onto the couch. It laid him on his back and propped pillows behind his head and under his arm, then it produced several tentacles out of the center of his chest and took to cleaning the mess it had made.

Eddie couldn’t see his phone past the tentacles, so a smaller tendril emerged and held it for him. His hands free, he stuck his right down the front of his boxers and lazily played with himself. 

Venom ignored him, too busy humming along to the radio to notice that Eddie was getting hard. After about five minutes, Eddie got bored and stopped his hand, resting it palm down inside the waistband of his boxers. His neglected boner softened.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Anne’s voice shouting at them to turn off the music. 

Eddie jumped and reflexively sucked a couple tentacles back into his body. Another limb caught his phone before it fell to the floor, then even more tentacles came out of his back and pushed him upright and closed his robe for him. 

Venom had cleaned much of the mess in the kitchen, but there was still cereal all over the counter, dishes piled precariously in the sink and on the stove, bullet holes in the fridge door, a tire swing hanging by the kitchen table, gaping holes in the ceiling, a four-foot stack of various bones from different creatures in the corner—hacked up by Venom during digestion.

“The chickens—grab the fucking chickens,” Eddie whisper-shouted as he walked to the door, Popsicle under his arm. 

Venom grabbed the other three chickens and held them out of sight of the cracked door. 

“Hey, Annie,” Eddie greeted. 

She tried to peer through the door, but Eddie had a tight grip on it, only revealing a sliver of his body to her. 

“You didn’t text me last night,” she said.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry. We got home really fucking late, and it just slipped my mind.” 

“Eddie, I have to know you’re OK.” Anne tilted her head and moved her eyes like if she looked hard enough then the door would magically swing open. 

“We’re fine, Annie. We took care of things.” Eddie avoided telling Anne details of his and Venom's vigilantism, but he always tried to text her to let her know they were safe. 

“Eddie.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you holding a chicken?”

As Eddie looked down at the chicken under his arm, Anne shoulder-tackled him and the door simultaneously and made a break for it into his apartment. Venom immediately encased her in tentacles and tossed her back into the hallway and slammed the door shut in her face.

I HAVEN’T FINISHED CLEANING UP IN HERE, ANNIE, AND I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, Venom shouted.

Several neighbors yelled and banged on the walls, demanding that Venom shut the fuck up. 

“HEY!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a broom with his hand and a mop with a tentacle and aggressively hit the ends of them against the ceiling and walls. “NEED I REMIND YOU FREELOADERS WHO TOOK CARE OF CRAIG?” 

Craig was their (missing for 35 days and counting) landlord. 

Anne pounded on the door. “Eddie, open this fucking door, I swear to god!”

Eddie forcefully cracked the door, only enough for Anne to see one of his narrowed eyes. “You’re not allowed to judge how we live.”

She pushed on the door, and he allowed her to come inside. A solid minute passed in which Anne stood in the middle of the apartment with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room without saying anything. Then, in an even tone:

“Alright. First question. Tire swing?”

Venom continued cleaning. Eddie stood next to Anne.

“Do you want the real answer or the PG answer?”

Anne’s whole body revolted. “Ew, oh my god. Gross, gross, gross—”

No, Annie, look, it’s just for this, Venom said, extending a head out of Eddie’s shoulder and snaking several tentacles around the tire. It spun the tire as fast as possible in one direction and then unraveled itself in a gooey mess as the tire spun in the other direction. 

“Oh,” Anne said. “Is that really what you use it for?”

Venom’s head was in the middle of the tire with limbs extending out to swing itself back and forth. No, I suspend Eddie in it and fuck him until he cries.

Anne cursed and threw her hands up in the air. Eddie and Venom laughed.

“Alright, next question.” Anne said after she had recovered. “Are the chickens for eating?”

“Yeah, except for Popsicle.” Eddie pointed across the room at where Popsicle was pecking at unidentified detritus on the floor.

“How the hell do you know which one Popsicle is?” 

“What do you mean? She’s that one.” He pointed again.

“They all look the same, Eddie.”

No. Popsicle looks like that. Venom pointed a tendril toward Popsicle. And the food looks like that. Another tendril split off into three prongs to point at the other chickens. 

Anne dropped her head and put her fingers to her temples, rubbing in circles. 

The toaster oven exploded. 

“Jesus, Vee, what did I tell you about—”

WELL maybe if SOMEONE would let me steal an oven then we could—

“Where the hell are we gonna put an oven in here? You gonna steal it from one of our neighbors?”

They continued arguing with each other while a tentacle grabbed a fire extinguisher from their stash of fire extinguishers in the coat closet and put the toaster oven out. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna get your deposit back, Eddie,” Anne said, still looking around his apartment. Her eyes stopped on the wicker basket full of dildos by the TV, but she didn't comment on it. 

A rock hit Eddie’s window. Venom opened it and stuck a tentacle out, and the neighborhood kids down on the street cheered and asked if it had time to play. 

“Go ahead, babe,” Eddie said.

It always felt a little strange when Venom removed so much of itself from inside Eddie’s body. It of course had to leave some still inside him, but just one tiny thread connected them together as Venom fanned out on the outside of the apartment building and juggled as many mundane objects as the children had in their power to throw up at it. Rocks, old toys, dolls, basketballs, baseball bats, a lawn chair, a pan of broccoli casserole, a cat. 

“How the hell do you live like this, Eddie?” Anne asked. 

Eddie cleared a space on the kitchen counter by shoving cereal onto the floor, then he grabbed two mugs off the sink pile and dug the coffeemaker out from the back of an extremely disorganized cabinet. The coffee itself was hidden from Venom in a plastic bag duct taped to the wall behind the fridge, so Eddie easily nudged the fridge to the side to retrieve it. He figured if Venom played with the kids long enough, he could get a little bit of caffeine in his body without it noticing. 

He said to Anne, “I’m in a relationship with an alien. What do you expect?”

Anne looked at the fridge then at Eddie, clearly confused by his inhuman strength. “I don’t know? For you to still act like an adult human?” 

Eddie internally tugged at the strands of Venom still inside him and found just enough biomass to make thick black veins pop out all over his face. “How ‘bout now? Do I still look like an adult human?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie pulled the veins back in. “Stop worrying about us, Annie. I know it looks like a disaster in here, but that’s because our life is a disaster. It works for us.”

A child shrieked in a loud laugh. Eddie could just barely see through the window that Venom was juggling the 5-year-old twin girls that lived in the apartment below them. 

“Babe!” Eddie yelled. “Put the girls down before somebody calls the fucking cops!”

The girls aww’d their disappointment as Venom carefully lowered them to the ground. 

“Eddie.”

He turned his attention back to Anne and waited for her to continue.

“Are you, um, safe? Like, what are the logistics of your...sex life?”

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, Annie, Vee is made up of a whole bunch of malleable tentacles, so I’d say use your imagination.”

Venom slithered its way back in, so Eddie tried to gulp down his coffee but didn’t finish before a tentacle wrenched it out of his hand and slung it into the sink.

“How do you know you’re not, like, subjecting yourself to some kind of alien STDs?” Anne asked. “Or, like, what if it’s changed your body composition so much that you guys are, like, capable of reproducing?”

Venom and Eddie both gasped and smiled at each other, Venom’s head floating just a couple feet away from Eddie’s. 

Eddie said, “Oh, that would be so cute if we had a little—” at the same time that Venom said Aww imagine if it had your good looks and my complexion—

“Fucking Christ, you guys are intolerable,” Anne interrupted. “Can you not be weird for, like, two seconds?”

Venom pouted at her and moved its head over to Eddie’s shoulders, nudging at his face and bumping against him like a needy cat. It wrapped two big tentacles around his waist like arms, and Eddie dropped his hands over them and squeezed affectionately. 

“What else did you come over here for, Annie?” Eddie asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you and Venom would like to come over to my apartment sometime to have dinner with me and Dan.”

Venom’s head popped up from where it was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Dan is finally ready to hang out with me?!

“Yes, but he’s still a little delicate since—”

I tried to stick my tongue in his mouth when you were kissing him goodbye before going to rescue Eddie from Riot, yeah, I get that.

“You what?” Eddie asked.

“So if you could just try to temper yourselves a tiny bit, maybe leave the chickens at home and don’t talk about fucking each other,” Anne concluded. 

“He knows that we’re fucking each other, though, right?”

“Yes, but knowing it and being confronted with it are two totally different things.”

Hey, Annie, tell Dan I think he’s boring.

“Hey, be nice,” Eddie chastised, reaching a hand up to pat Venom’s face. 

Anne told them she would let them know a date and time, then she headed for the door with Eddie close on her heels. She turned and hugged him on her way out and didn’t flinch when a couple tentacles clung to her, too. 

They’re not going to feed us enough, Venom said after she was gone. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to pre-game.”

Eddie went back to his lazy spot on the couch and Venom went back to tidying up. This time, when Eddie’s hand inevitably found its way into his boxers, Venom took notice right away and teased a small tendril out of his thigh to join in on the fun. 

ALEXA, PLAY “LET’S GET IT ON” BY MARVIN GAYE.

“You broke the Alexa yesterday, babe.”

Right, I’ll just have to sing it myself.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking himself slowly. “Please don’t.”

Venom rumbled a complaint through Eddie’s entire body, but then it snaked two tentacles over his shoulders and down his chest and pulled his boxers off completely. Two more tentacles pushed out of Eddie’s back and hammocked him in, folding underneath him and then turning up toward the ceiling to grip the holes.

When they started having sex, it wasn’t really so much of a monumental decision as it was Venom participating in literally every single other aspect of Eddie’s life that it just didn’t make sense for it not to be involved in the most fun bit. After Venom had been with Eddie for a week or so, Eddie couldn’t avoid his sex drive anymore and tried to quietly jerk off. Venom, having already stuck its tentacles into everything else Eddie did, simply wrapped a limb around Eddie’s hand and helped him out. And Eddie, stupid and horny, had immediately asked the alien to fuck him with its tongue. 

So, here they were.

With Eddie suspended, Venom moved its head under him and licked its way around his rim. There was still only one small tendril helping his hand pump his cock, but they had plenty of time to—

“Eddie, I forgot my—oh my god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking—”

Eddie dropped back down on the couch, biomass encasing his nakedness in a safe little cocoon, but Anne had already rushed out the door and slammed it shut. 

He sighed. “I guess she doesn’t have to use her imagination.”

[blackbat05]

Blue Skies

Bucky x Reader (500 Challenge)

A/N: Congrats @tom-whore-dleston for 500 followers once again! Thanks for letting me write this, hopefully it’s as good as I think it should be? I also think I did it correctly? As always, feedback is appreciated!

Genre: PG13, Angst

Notes: Own characters, usage of Y/N 

Warnings: Language, injuries, blood, death, trauma. This story is one of my longer stories.

***

3am. You were pacing back and forth in the house that you shared with Bucky.

You really should be going to sleep. As a medic, you had a long day tomorrow, covering for a colleague as a favor. But the radio silence from your boyfriend was making you more anxious by the second.

Just as you considered pouring yourself the fourth of tea, the door unlocks, Bucky looking worse for wear stumbling in with a grey duffel bag. Tossing the bag to who knows where, he flops down onto the couch, groaning in pain.

‘Hey doll, you still awake.’ Bucky sees you coming with the kit. ‘You didn’t have to.’

‘It’s ok Buck, I couldn’t sleep anyway.’ You set the kit on the coffee table, getting to work. It seems that Bucky got off lucky this time - a couple of bruises and grazing here and there.

Maybe you spoke to soon.

As you worked your way up to his right arm, Bucky winces, jolting back. He tries to move away from you, but you were quicker. Removing the bandage that must have been applied by Sam, you were horrified to see that his stitch had burst open, causing the bandage to be slowly dipped in red.

‘Buck! Your stitch, it’s-’

‘It’s alright doll, nothing serious.’ He attempts to move again before being hit with the soreness of an open wound.

‘Just let me look at it. I’ll be quick-’

‘IT’S FINE.’ Bucky finds himself raising his voice, almost instantly regretting that as he sees your facial expression do a three-sixty. The temperature of the room had dropped, silence filling the air.

You decided to leave the kit, dumping the supplies on the table. You felt like a fool, waiting for him into the wee hours of the night, only for this to happen.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean to… please just-’ Bucky gets up from the couch as quickly as he could, trailing behind you before stopping when you spun around, tears evident in your eyes.

‘Not a single call, or a text at least to tell me that you’re fine James,’ you used his name to tell him that you meant business. ‘I was so worried that Sam would knock on our door telling me that one of your harebrained plans would have gotten you killed.’

Bucky holds back, knowing that he shouldn’t have lashed out at you. You were right. You could have yelled at him the moment he got back home but you chose not to.

You huffed, not knowing how things had gotten so out of hand. Being the pacifist that you were, you left to the spare room that was used occasionally whenever Sam came over. You had no intention to speak to face him for the rest of the night. 

***

Bucky wakes up to the heat that was creeping into the bedroom. Right hand automatically reaching out to the cold sheets, he remembers what happened last night. 

He really wanted to stay in bed today. 

Going about his usual routine, he sees a plate of toast and a mug of coffee prepared at the counter. A pink post-it was taped to the side of the plate. 

I’m sorry for yesterday. Left some breakfast for you. We’ll talk about this tonight. Seriously. 

Bucky folds the tiny piece of paper carefully, slipping it into his pocket. He did not deserve this. Especially not how after he treated you. He had to make it up to you somehow. 

He really hated what he was about to do next, but he was desperate man. 

‘Wassup metal brain!’ Sam picks up exactly on the third ring. 

Yeah, he hated this. 

***

‘Y/N! Did you hear anything that I just said?’ Your co-worker Carrie waves a hand in front of your face. 

‘Huh? Oh sorry. What did you say?’ 

‘I said, we’re having dinner tonight if there’s no last minute calls. You down?’ 

You think about the note that you left for Bucky this morning before leaving for work. ‘Sorry Carrie, not today.’ Usually, you wouldn’t have passed on dinner with your closest friend, not when you both had a rare opportunity to leave work on time as a medic, but a promise was a promise. 

‘Boyfriend troubles?’ Carrie asked. Nothing could slip by that girl. All you could do was nod numbly. 

She sympathetically pats you on the shoulder. ‘Chin up soldier. If Bucky gives you any more crap, I don’t care if he’s an Avenger, I’ll castrate him myself.’ You wanted to laugh, but something was weighing the side of your lips down. 

Placing the last of the medical supplies in the storage room, the two of you made your exit, ready to face another day. 

***

‘You really screwed up this time huh Buck?’ 

‘Would you stop saying that? I don’t need anymore reminders Sam.’ Bucky snarls, regretting his decision the moment he instantly stepped into the house. 

‘Noted.’ The former pararescueman raises his hands up, although Bucky wasn’t sure if he was serious on keeping that promise. ‘Well, it’s simple. You just need to be honest with her. Tell her that you were being a douchebag,’ Sam narrowly avoids the tissue box that flew a few inches from his face, ‘and not be such a closed up dick. She needs to know that she’s appreciated man. Then again, may be a challenge for you.’ 

Sam’s phone rang. ‘Hold on a second lover boy,’ Sam grabs his phone. ‘I’ll be right back after this call.’

Bucky ponders on his partner’s advice. Sam had a point. All this while, you had accommodated to him, to his needs. You never forced him to share any of his missions if he felt uncomfortable, you left him alone when needed, and most importantly...

You always waited for him. 

‘Buck!’ Sam calls him out from his thoughts. ‘Emergency. A collapsed building. Local department needs extra hands.’

As much as Bucky bickered with Sam nearly 24/7, he knew what was going on in his mind too. And by the look of distress on the Captain’s face, something was very wrong. 

‘Sam? Spit it out.’ Bucky’s demand had made him regret asking immediately. 

‘It’s Y/N. She’s trapped inside.’

***

Two hours earlier, 

‘Well there goes our dinner!’ Carrie changes into her gear swiftly. ‘You told Bucky?’ 

‘He’s probably on Avenger business. Besides, not like this is our first rodeo.’ You grabbed your own gear, changing in record speed, running to the vehicle where the rest of your team was waiting with your partner. 

‘It’s a broadcasting studio. A group of students from a nearby university are the only known survivors so far. Estimated number unknown. Our main priority is to get them out. The team on site has assessed that the building is safe to enter, but we only have limited time before the structure goes unstable.’ Your team leader briefs the group as the vehicle speeds to its destination. 

You had experience as a medic, seen it all. But that didn’t make it any easier. 

The red building that once stood proud on the busy streets of the business district was now in shambles. You weren’t even sure if it was remotely possible for people to be underneath the rubble. 

No. You had to be optimistic. 

A uniformed soldier greets the team, going straight into business. ‘We need a minimum of three medics. They’ll follow each of us in to do a quick assessment.’ 

You didn’t think. And evidently Carrie had the same thoughts as the seniors on the team. ‘Not letting you have all the glory can I?’ She smiles, giving me a fist bump as good luck before being led away by the soldier that she would be tagging along with. 

You meet your own ‘buddy’, a soldier with salt and pepper hair who introduced himself as Hal. 

‘We’ll be going in from the front,’ he briefs you as the two of you briskly walked past the tape that was keeping out nosy pedestrians and distressed relatives. ‘We’ve detected at least two of them in there. One’s looking pretty banged up from their heat signature though.’ 

Switching on his flashlight on his helmet, Hal takes the lead, crawling into the tight space. ‘This can take our weight. But don’t touch anything at the sides.’ 

Following his instructions, you found yourself crawling for a while before seeing a flash of light that came from a phone. Two girls were waiting for us, dust covering every inch of their skin. 

‘We’re here to get you out. Follow whatever we tell you to do okay?’ You moved to the figure lying on the floor, her leg twisted into an odd position. Hal attends to the other girl, asking simple questions to assess her state. 

‘She’s fine.’ Hal tells you. ‘I’ll get her out of her first and come back for you.’ He gives you an extra walkie-talkie for good measure. ‘Stay away from the sides.’ Hal reminds you again, leaving you with the remaining girl who was drifting in and out of consciousness.

‘Hey honey…’ you tapped her face gently. ‘Stay with me okay? We’re going to get you out of here.’

She gives you a dazed look. ‘I’m scared… I’m scared.’

‘It’s okay. I’m here with you.’ You held her hand, praying that Hal would make his way back for the girl soon.

You knew you weren’t in here for more than three hours, but the heat was starting to close in on the two of you. Moving yourself into a more comfortable position, the building starts to to shake again. You pressed the button on the walkie-talkie, attempting to reach Hal.

‘Hal! What the hell’s going on?’

‘Structure’s unstable! Get o- to- Ca- you- hear-’ The buzz became louder before the connection to the outside world was cut off. You had to think fast. Sitting here like an open duck with an injured civilian was not an option.

With your strength, you lifted the girl, placing her underneath the table before dragging your supplies along with you.

And thank god for you quick thinking as a huge debris came crashing down onto where the both of you were seconds earlier. Great, now your only way of exit was blocked.

Although you were fortunate not to have any part of you flatten like a pancake, you were unaware that several stray metal pieces had found it’s way to your sides amongst the confusion.

Turning your attention back to the girl, your current focus was to get her out alive.

***

‘Let us through!’ Sam raises his voice as the two men walk past the tapes.

‘Captain!’ Hal rushes to greet him. ‘Thank you for coming down on such short notice.’

‘What’s the situation?’

‘We’ve managed to get 9 out of 10 civilians. The remaining civilian is stuck on the basement with the medic. The building’s currently too unstable to move in at the moment.’

‘Can’t anything else be done?’ Bucky finds himself speaking for the very first time since Sam broke the news to him at home.

‘I’m sorry Sergeant. We try to move one debris, the whole structure may just collapse.’

A girl on the stretcher passes by. She reaches out to grasp at Hal’s wrist. ‘My friend… please, you have to save her.’ She begs weakly before being taken away.

Bucky was confused at the sudden intrusion in their conversation, finally putting the dots together. He abruptly grabs the soldier by the collar, going dangerously close to his face.

‘You dragged her down there and left her alone! YOU LEFT HER DOWN THERE!’ Bucky’s unexpected aggression left the two men speechless.

‘Buck let him go!’ Sam cuts in, forcing him to release his death grip on Hal. ‘It’s not his fault, Y/N was just doing her job!’

But Bucky had already blocked out the rest of the conversation. Sam apologizes to the slightly shaken soldier before turning back to focus on his distracted partner.

‘Buck! I need you to focus. It’s no good if you’re emotional. That’s not going to help Y/N.’ Sam firmly grips both of Bucky’s shoulders, planting him back to reality.

Then, as Sam attempts to bring his partner back to earth, a crackle could be heard from the walkie talkie that Hal had given Sam before leaving to tend to the injured.

‘Hel-lo? Anyo-ne?’ Your distorted voice seemed to have did the trick, bringing back Bucky’s focus.

‘Y/N! It’s Sam! Can you hear me?’ Sam speaks slowly, hoping that his voice could capture on the other end.

‘Sam! Yes I-’ The short lived joy was cut off again as the static returned.

***

‘Shit!’ You mumbled, placing the walkie-talkie aside.

‘Miss?’ The girl reaches her hand out in the air. You sit by her side, trying not to flinch at how cold her hand was despite the unforgiving heat.

‘Call me Y/N. And don’t worry honey, we’re going to get you out. I need you to hang in there for me okay?’

She nods. ‘What’s your name?’ You ask her, trying to make her stay awake.

‘Tara,’ she seems to understand your intentions, licking her lips before continuing. ‘I’m a student. Was here on a field trip.’

Grateful for her resilience, you encouraged her further. ‘How about you tell me more about what you do? I always wanted to be a journalist.’

***

‘Captain, you’re only going to have thirty minutes until the structure goes unstable.’ The commander passes him a thick black control. ‘We’ve managed to track their heat signatures.’

Sam nods, keeping an eye on Bucky. ‘Thank you Commander Louis, we’ll take it from here.’

He puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, hoping that it would calm down the man who looked like he was about to burst his way into the rubble any moment.

‘Buck. We do this on my orders. I need you to agree to this.’ Sam finds himself staring at cold blue eyes, tinged with desperation.

And regret?

Bucky marches forward, not bothering to spare Sam a glance.

‘Knew he would do that.’

***

‘What about you Y/N?’ Tara asks. ‘Why did you want to become a medic?’

You paused, seriously considering her question. At the same time, you worked on focusing on your breathing that had became increasingly labored over the past few hours. Pushing the feeling to the back of your mind, you answered the young girl.

‘I wanted to help people to see the blue skies once more.’ You smiled at her. ‘I know, it sounds real poetic and cheesy.’

‘I think it’s beautiful.’

Just then, you could hear movement from the rubble that was blocking the exit. Was help finally here? Waiting with bated breath, you could finally breathe easily when a familiar head poked out from the empty space.

‘Good to see you Y/N!’

‘Sam! Are you a sight for sore eyes. You think you could spare a hand here?’

Squeezing through the confined space, you see Bucky trail after him. Now’s not the time.

Sam opens a stretcher, placing Tara onto it. ‘We gotta move. Me and Buck will pull. Stay close.’ He takes the lead, lifting the stretcher in head first. Switching on the light on his helmet, he braves ahead.

‘Y/N…’

‘Bucky, whatever it is, we can talk about it later, ok?’ Perhaps it came out harsher then intended as Bucky’s lips pursed into a thin line, conversation going dead.

You lost track of time as you crawled through the small space. You should have been relieved, knowing that the claustrophobic feeling that you were experiencing for the past few hours would go away.

How you hated your ability to sense danger.

Structure around you moving violently, you were able to get a glimpse beyond Bucky’s shoulder that the four of you were nearly out of this hell hole. Hal was waiting at the end of the ‘tunnel’, words forming on his mouth.

‘Get out of there now! The structure’s going to collapse!’

The two men grit their teeth, pulling the stretcher as quick as they can, with you keeping up with their pace. You were almost there, when you felt the dull pain that had been bugging at your sides increased.

Slowing down, your hand comes into contact with warm, sticky blood.

Get out of here first Y/N.

However, your body had other plans.

As the trio exited the rubble with the help of the rescue team, Bucky turns back, expecting to see you right behind them.

‘Y/N!’ He sees you sprawled on the ground, a few meters away from safety. The building continues to shake violently.

‘Sir it’s not safe-’

‘FUCK OFF!’ Bucky had no time to be nice. He shakes the hand off him, running back to you. Lifting you by the armpits, he manages to get you out with a millisecond to spare.

‘Oh thank god,’ he brushes the stray hair from your face. ‘Are you-’ Bucky freezes as he sees your unusually pale figure.

‘Y/N. Doll. Talk to me!’ He gently taps you on the cheek. Blinking slowly, you stare blankly at him before looking at the skies.

‘I’m sorry Buck,’ you lift the sides of your shirt, revealing multiple metal pieces that was badly rusted.

Bucky shook his head, in denial. ‘No… please… SAM! SAM WE NEED HELP!’

You gripped his hand, bringing it to your face. ‘It’s okay Buck. I just want to be with you.’ You breathed out each word with difficulty.

He tries to hold on to the last piece of hope that was slowly slipping away from his grasp.

‘I’m sorry doll… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have lost my temper at you.’ Tears roll down his face that was covered in dust. He knows that he’s loosing you, so he wipes his eyes, in order to see you for the last time. ‘Please just hang in there. Please…’

Sam runs over, stopping in his track. A former army personnel, he had a fair share of medical knowledge. And right now, the only thing he could do was to give the two of you space.

‘It’s okay Buck. I know you didn’t mean it.’ Using your remaining energy, you squeezed his hand. ‘Could you just stay with me? I want to see the skies.’

He gently places your head on his lap, for you to feel the sun on your face.

As your breathing becomes weaker, Bucky knows that he had to let go. He bends down, kissing you tenderly.

He knew, that a kiss was always done with one’s eyes closed.

Body going limp, Bucky releases a guttural scream that eventually turned into choked sobs. How did it go so wrong? If only he knew… He had so many things to say to you, so many things that he had to fix right.

But what good did it do to have any regrets?

That’s why he made sure that the last thing you saw was his baby blues.

The color of the skies that you had always loved so much.

*

*

*

A/N: Well, I’m sorry that it was longer than I expected! Just kept writing and I think this probably had the best flow?😅 Really hope it’s okay and thanks for reading!

[artaefact]

grinchly, yours.

—wordcount: 15k+

—genre: angst, fluff, bookshop owner!reader, florist!hoseok, bookshop au, christmas au, flower shop au, s2l au

—pairing: jung hoseok x f reader

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: awkward moments, a cemetery scene, mention loss of loved ones, a soft!hobi

—summary: Christmas time is around the corner, everyone is celebrating to their heart’s content, but not you. No, you despise Christmas and the joy it brings. That is, until a friendly florist decides to pay your bookstore a visit.

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write a character with the grinch’s personality and this story has been revolving around my head for some time !! happy reading everyone 💖 

prompt: “carolling” for @btsholidaybingo event & “winter market date” for @kdiarynet winter hearts event !!

© artaefact 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

You nearly lose it when a snowflake lands on your face — specifically, your eye — for the third time now as you pad along the asphalt road. Releasing a breath, you calm yourself. This should be a regular occurrence for you. Still, you can’t help but scowl at the sight of fake candy canes and decorated fir trees near the streets and shops, and well, basically everywhere.

Once you near your bookshop, another annoyed sigh escapes your lips when you find a group of people singing right in front of the door again. Honestly, your patience is running thin as you have once told them to not sing in front of your bookstore.

Cursing under your breath, you try not to meet anyone’s eye and opt to quickly enter your shop. However, one of the members notices you and waves at you. You recognise him as Jimin — a local baker who likes to stop by your bookstore to look for recipe books.

After responding with a brief nod at him, you unlock your door and rush inside.

It’s not even Christmas yet, so why are these people singing Christmas carols early in the morning already? The sun has barely even risen up!

A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you can’t hear the choir anymore, at least muffled by the door of your bookstore. Moving towards the cashier table, you place your messenger bag underneath it before getting to work.

Carrying boxes of books back and forth from the supply room is the daily norm for you. You find comfort hidden between the shelves while you stack the newly-delivered books neatly into their allocated place. Many would say that it’s a lonely job, especially since you refuse to hire anyone to work in your store. But you don’t. You seldom feel that way.

The soft music from the jukebox is the only thing that keeps the bookshop from falling into complete silence as you work on reshelving and rearranging the books. That is until the bell on top of the front door rings.

“Welcome!” You place the books on the wooden floor, standing up only to see Jimin peering on the aisle you’re in, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sighing internally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

You sit back down on the wooden floor and continue to shelf the books. “Didn’t you do that before?”

“You didn’t say a word.” He moves closer and plops down beside you.

You merely shake your head, still focusing on your task. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let those choir people sing in front of my store?”

“Right,” Jimin answers sheepishly. “You see, we are still scouting for another area and—”

“Well then, find it quicker. Why don’t they just sing in front of your bakery?”

“It’s not exactly an ideal spot for singing…”

“And the front of my store is?”

“There’s not much public transport station here—”

You huff in annoyance. “If you don’t have anything else to do besides making excuses, I would appreciate it if you leave. As you can see—” Lifting one of the books in emphasis, “—my hands are full.”

Despite your cold words, Jimin dismisses it quickly. “Well, I’m looking for a book about plants.”

“Botany?” Your brows furrow. “Did baking go wrong?”

He snorts. “As if, but my friend is looking for one. He asked me if I could get one for him.”

“Is there a particular book he’s searching for?”

Jimin hands you a piece of paper.

“Oh, I have to place an order for this one,” you utter. “I’ll send you a text when it has arrived.”

Nodding, Jimin finally stands up and is ready to leave when you call him.

“Oh, and Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, take your fellow choir crew somewhere else to sing.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

The box lands on the cashier desk with a thump before you send a message to Jimin, a week later.

[ 2:05 PM ] You: your friend’s book is here

Placing your phone on the table, you peel off the wrapping tape and open the box. The printed white letters of Guide to Gardening contrast against the pine green background of the hardcover as tiny drawn flowers scatter across the edge of the cover.

You read the synopsis curiously, wondering how someone can find garden-work interesting when your phone dings — a text notification from Jimin lights up your phone screen.

[ 2:09 PM ] Jimin: Oh! I’ll tell my friend to pick up the book himself. He should be able to swing by today.

Not bothering to reply to him, you put away the book for safekeeping — leaving Jimin on read, as usual, and get back to check your supplies, making sure everything’s in stock.

An hour or two have passed until someone enters your bookstore. “Excuse me?”

Looking up from the papers, a new customer staring at you. “May I help you?” You ask, standing up from your seat.

“I ordered a book. And my friend, Jimin, told me it has arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble through your paper-covered desk, reaching for the book. “Are you—” You check the name it was ordered under. “—Hoseok?”

He nods, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Here you go.” Handing the book to him. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The subtle smile on his face turns into a bright grin as soon as he reads the title. “It is.”

“Great,” you nod. “Do you still want to take a look around, or would that be all?”

Hoseok’s gaze lingers on you, a bit too long for your liking, but he shakes his head regardless. “This would be all for now.”

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

While you print the receipt, he asks, “Are you a friend of Jimin’s?”

“Acquaintance,” you correct him, handing his receipt.

“I see. May I know your name at least?” He extends his hand.

Blinking at his question, your hand moves before you can think twice about taking his hand in yours. Ignoring the way your hand fits so well in his, you introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

And a bright, bright grin appears on his face, one that you swear can light up the whole bookshop. “Hope we’ll see each other again soon, Y/N. Just recently opened up my shop near the corner of the street.” Then he makes his way out of the store, steps faltering slightly before the entrance, giving the bookstore a once-over and walks out.

The next time you meet Hoseok is when he visits your store in passing. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you as you place a stack of books on the cashier table from the delivery box earlier.

“Hi, Hoseok...” You do not know what to make of his cheerful demeanour.

“How’s your day?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he seriously asking that for no apparent reason?

“Fine, I guess,” you answer nonetheless as you rub your palms against your jeans. “Just had to clear out the storage and rearrange some shelves.”

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh! I’m looking for a book about orchids,” Hoseok explains. “It’s so hard to grow them.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll check the supplies,” you mumble, moving and clicking your mouse to find what he is searching for. Hoseok moves to a nearby aisle, looking through random books while you move to the allocated aisle of the book he wants.

Hoseok is confused for a moment as his attention is set on the little post-its on the shelf. As he takes a closer look, he realises that these are your reviews of the books. He can’t help but chuckle at how enthusiastic your reviews sound.

It’s amusing how you are interested in The Grinch.

Plucking one of the books, he makes his way to you. You are so focused on the books as he stands beside you, then he pokes your shoulder and you jolt. “Oh my—”

Hoseok apologises sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You clear your throat. “It’s fine. I tend to tune out my surroundings when I’m focused. And, uh, here—” You hold out the book to him. “—is this it?”

Hoseok nods, smiling as he takes the book and follows behind you to the cashier. As you type in the order, he asks, “Do you like this book?” Your movements falter at his sudden question, which he notices. “I saw some stickers you posted beneath the books that seem to be your favourites.”

Cheeks growing warm at his words, you stammer, “Well, I thought it would encourage people to buy and—”

He places one of the books that you recommended on top of the book he was looking for. “I’ll get this one too.”

“But… It’s a children’s book.” You gape.

“I’m not big on reading heavy novels, Y/N. So, I think this is a good start,” he shrugs. “Plus, you recommended five stars for this and your review—”

“Okay!” You cut him off, grasping the book. “I-I get what you mean, but are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Am I not here as your customer?”

Sighing mentally, you proceed to scan the barcode. “That will be forty-seven dollars.”

Meetings with him are refreshing, as it is odd. Hoseok would come by your bookstore once in a while — once a week or even twice. At first, you thought something was up. Definitely, since he didn’t purchase books on every visit. But what throws you off is that he would come by to drop desserts or even just a quick ‘hi’ when he is busy that day.

You’re sceptical indeed. Was there a bet being made to befriend you? But he wouldn’t have treated you to those sugar-coated doughnuts or hot chocolate if he wants money.

Deep in your own thoughts, you walk along the usual route to your store; hands tucked inside your thick coat, even ignoring the snow that’s covered your beanie.

You’re not used to this; someone just straight-up approaching you, or just enjoying being in your presence with no obligation to do so. Haven’t he heard of the rumours that surround you? In a small town where you live, he must have heard something.

Thoughts drifting back to reality, your eyes twitch as you find those carolling people in front of your store again. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an annoyed sigh.

How many times should you tell them to scram? And where is Park Jimin?

You scan through the faces of the group, and he was nowhere to be found. Muttering a curse under your breath while ignoring the slight aching in your chest, you stomp towards them.

“Hello,” You plaster on a big fake smile, ceasing their singing at once. “I thought I had told one of your crew — Jimin — that you can’t sing in front of my store. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s not joining us today,” one of the choir members answers, nonchalantly. “We didn’t know that this is a private area. I thought you only own your part of the store.”

The other choir members glance nervously at each other; their reaction an obvious contrast with this chipper, unheeding chatterbox in front of you. Gritting your teeth, you force down the curse words that are on the tip of your tongue back before clearing your throat. “Well, now, you know.” You pin down that girl who opens her loose mouth with your sharp stare. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d leave and never sing in front of my store again.”

She is about to respond when her crewmembers stop her from saying anything further, which is fortunate for her. In minutes, they pack up and finally leave.

Rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to put a sign in front of your store that says no choirs allowed, or any Christmas activities at all. After changing the ‘close’ sign to ‘open’, you place your things on the cashier table. Looking at the old jukebox fondly, you trace the intricate, beautiful designs for a little while before you turn it on. Soft jazz music fills the air instantly, and your heart warms up at that.

Deciding to have a little reading time, you pick a book from your favourite section. However, you falter momentarily when you realise it’s the same book Hoseok bought last week from your post-it recommendation. Sighing, you place the book back and pick another.

Time flies so quickly when you immerse yourself in books. By the time you check your phone, it’s afternoon already. And then the quiet atmosphere shatters when the bell of your bookstore rings.

“Y/N!” His familiar cheerful voice startles you.

“Hoseok…” You’re back again.

“I’m grabbing a bite in Jimin’s bakery, would you like to join?”

“No, I’m—” Your stomach growls loudly as if on cue.

Hoseok laughs at that, “Your stomach says otherwise. C’mon! You shouldn’t stay cooped up in your shop the whole day.”

And you can’t bring yourself to reject his offer again.

“How long have you been running your bookstore?” Hoseok asks as you both make your way towards Jimin’s bakery.

“It’s been... Five years,” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s quite long! Have you always been interested in books?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ve loved reading since I was a child.”

You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed conversing with Hoseok until you reached Jimin’s bakery.

That was quick, you thought, at the sight of the pastel pink store.

Stepping into the bakery, Hoseok calls out, “Kookie!”

“Hyung?” The familiar man called ‘Kookie’ greets him after serving a customer with their order.

You wreck your head for his name — you know this guy. Well, have seen him with Jimin most of the time but you didn’t bother to know his name. Or actually, you did, but you forgot.

The only ones you can come up with are “John Cook’ or ‘Jungkook’. It has to be either one of those or else you’d embarrass yourself further.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s nice for you to come by!”

Screw it.

“Nice to see you too, John.”

Kookie lets out a giggle. “You can call me ‘Jungkook’ instead of my last name.”

Then it clicks. Right— it’s Jeon Jungkook. Thank the heavens ‘John’, and ‘Jeon’ sounds similar.

You feign indifference. “Alright, Jungkook.”

“Jimin is out with his girlfriend for hot chocolate, he’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you and Hoseok take a seat, Jungkook hands you both the menu before dealing with other customers.

“So... Are you sure you’re new here?” You break the silence. “Looks to me that you seem to know everyone here already.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Not everyone. But Jimin, Jungkook, and I go way back.”

“Ah, I see...” Then you cast your stare to the menu once more. But your attention shifts to the glass door to see Jimin and his girlfriend laughing. Not long after you catch his gaze, however, the warmth dissipates almost instantly. He stalks towards your table at once.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin seethes, eyes boring into yours as you match them equally with your icy ones.

“Ah, Jimin,” Hoseok turns to look at him. “I was grabbing something to eat, and I invited Y/N along and—”

“Y/N is not welcome here,” Jimin seethes.

Hoseok’s eyes widen before it gradually hardens at your defence. “Since when?”

But Jimin’s eyes are on you once more. “Why did you drive the choir crew away again? What did they do to you? They managed to sing a few blocks away from your store!”

“That is bullshit.” You stand up and level his gaze. “They sang in front of my store again, still disturbing the peace in my shop. And I told you to take your choir crew somewhere far to sing.”

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what they—”

“Believe whoever you want,” you cut him off, mood darkening. “And since I am not welcome here, I’ll see myself out.” Without another word, you head out of the bakery. Clutching your coat tighter to your frame, the sound of your boots thumps along the cobblestone until another pair of rapid footsteps follow behind you.

“Y/N!” Hoseok calls out, grabbing your arm. “Hey… I—” He catches his breath. “I’m sorry, Jimin is an asshole to you—”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I—”

“Hoseok.” You turn to him. “Why do you even bother to befriend me?”

His eyes widened at that before he splutters, “B-Because, why not?”

Taking a step closer to him, you consider asking him if there is a bet going on, but decide against it. “I’ll be fine. You go back to Jimin.”

Without another glance, you turn away once more, leaving him in the midst of the cold weather.

Autumn flies away too quickly, you bitterly thought. You find yourself missing the warm colours of the town, where the crunching sound of fallen leaves will always fill the silence when you go to work or go back home. Or, spring sounds good to you too — bright, vivid flowers loitering around as the warm sun kisses your skin.

Not this whole white fiasco. Your mood always dampens when you walk out of the house, only to find the usual bright morning still dark as it takes later for the sun to rise up.

‘Achoo—!’ You let out a sneeze, wrapping the thick blanket around your form tighter. The heater of the store is cranked up to the fullest, yet the winter cold still manages to get you.

Letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, you continuously flip through the accounting records of your store, eyes scanning the numbers to make sure no mistakes are made. Unable to focus further, you sigh.

Maybe you should do other things before getting back to these numbers.

You let out another sneeze as you trudge to the storage room, huffing in annoyance while you sniffle. Taking out an opened empty box from the shelves, you pack children books into it when your doorbell rings.

“Please wait a moment!” You quickly shove the box to an empty corner before rushing out.

“Umm,” Hoseok stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Hi…” He takes a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday—”

Posture stiffening, you cut him off, “It’s not your fault, nor it was Jimin’s fault. It was my own mistake.”

He tries to argue. “No, it’s—”

“Hoseok, it’s alright.” You reassure him, plastering on a tight smile. “Really.”

“Ah, that’s… Well, these are for you.” He extends a bouquet of orchids.

You stare at him. “W-Why…?”

“I thought it would brighten up your bookstore,” he rambles. “Uh, unless you don’t want it? It’s really fine—”

You take the bouquet from his hold, your smile turning genuine on your lips. “Thank you.”

He grins at that. “Well, I’ve got to go back to the shop. Maybe we can go out for coffee or even lunch whenever you’re free?”

When you nod in response, Hoseok’s expression lights up further. With your numbers exchanged, he waves you goodbye and exits your store. It’s quiet once again, and you merely stand there, still staring at the bright purple hues of the orchids.

Perhaps, it’s still ol’ winter outside, but it feels as though spring blooms within the walls of your bookshop now.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

Hoseok is in a good mood; he whistles some random pop songs as he makes his way back to his shop. “I’m back!” he chirps, scrubbing his snow-covered boots against the ‘welcome’ rug.

“I was beginning to think you have lost your way,” Jungkook comments, eyes focusing at the bouquet in front of him, wrapping it up. “The next customer won’t be here until three and, wait—” He looks around frantically at the scattered flowers on the counter. “Hyung! Where are the orchids?!”

“Huh?” Hoseok feigns innocence. “I thought we had them. You’ve cut their stems right?”

“Yes, but—”

It’s kinda funny to see the usual composed Jungkook, now, panicking. Little did he know, Hoseok had taken the last of the orchids to make a bouquet for you.

“Hyung! We need orchids! The colours don’t match! And—”

Hoseok snorts. “Use the hydrangeas. They fit with whatever bouquet you’re wrapping.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It’s not going to be the same as how I pictured it, Hyung. It has a different meaning too!” However, Hoseok has gone into the changing room to change into his usual working attire. From outside, Jungkook grumbles to himself, “I don’t deserve this treatment. I helped Jimin, and now Hobi hyung too. And for what exactly?”

“So, you won’t stay cooped up in your room until New Years.” Hoseok comments, tying his apron then rolling the sleeve of his shirt till it reaches just before his elbows.

“Okay, but ‘fess up, Hyung—” Jungkook still looks unamused. “What did you do to the orchids? I know you’ve worked hard growing them so you won’t give away those flowers easily.”

“Huh,” Hoseok feigns innocence, grabbing a set of flowers to wrap. “Really? Maybe I did give it away to someone pretty, who knows.” Beautiful, in fact.

“Who?” Then Jungkook’s face turns dumbfounded as he seems to realise something. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s Y/N.”

“Why not Y/N?” Hoseok raises a brow, sparing the younger one a questioning glance.

Jungkook groans. “No, hyung, don’t you know she’s like… Unapproachable? Like even Jimin’s charm does not affect her at all. In fact, she made him angry the other day!

Hoseok mindlessly nods at Jungkook’s rambles. “Yeah, yeah…”

It goes quiet for a moment before Jungkook asks, “So… Did she throw away the flowers at once and kick you out of—”

The image of your bright eyes and soft smile engraves itself into his mind as he works on the bouquet at hand.

“No.” A smile appears on Hoseok’s face. “She loves it actually.” All that time he spent and the hard work of growing those orchids really does pay off.

“What did you say to her? I don’t think she’s the type to accept an apology gift that easily.” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, still questioning.

True. At first, he wanted to give it as an apology gift. However, at your insistence that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own, he thought of another reason — to brighten up your cozy bookshop with the vibrant colours of the orchids.

“Well, I thought of other reasons,” Hoseok answers vaguely, finishing the arrangement. And boy, did his heart soar when you accepted his gift afterwards.

“It’s so hard to believe…” Jungkook mumbles, focusing on his own task at hand.

Hoseok sighs. “She’s not what you guys seem to paint her to be. At least, not with me. Does anyone even try to approach her in the first place?”

Jungkook nods. “Jimin hyung did. You know how he is.” Silence falls for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I think she’s always grumpy when it’s Christmas season.”

“Why?”

Jungkook answers with a mere shrug. “No one knows. We just avoid her during Christmas.”

With furrowed brows, Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval of how people treated you. There must be a reason why you are acting this way. You weren’t a complete grouch with him, and your smile earlier proves that. If it takes hundreds of orchids to make you smile like that again — even when others say you are a grouch and your presence is unpleasant — he would gladly grow them all over again.

Sipping the gingerbread latte, you let out a satisfied hum at the burst of sweet taste on your tongue from the warm beverage. Definitely perfect for cold weather as you sit near the window, mindlessly staring out at the falling snow and the buzzing people beneath.

Hoseok has agreed to meet in the cafe. You are too stubborn to admit that you actually enjoyed his company these past few weeks. But, as soon as he texted you to meet in this cafe, you barely thought twice before agreeing.

Speaking of the devil, he sits across from you with a grin on his face. You snap out of your thoughts when your gaze zeroes in on the bouquet in front of you.

Irises.

“It’s for you.”

Blinking with furrowed brows, your voice comes out unsure. “For me…? But why?”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle, “I just think it suits you. Like those orchids.”

At his words, your heart beats faster. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, gaze dropping to the bright yellow flowers, arranged prettily and pleasing to the eye. “But… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what irises mean?”

You shake your head, taking the bouquet reluctantly.

“Hope and friendship,” Hoseok beams then raises his own steaming cup of coffee to you. “So, here’s to our friendship!”

Chuckling lightly, you lift your own cup.

“Right, I read the book,” Hoseok starts, earning a raised brow from you. “It’s a whole lot to digest even when it’s merely a children’s book. What makes you like it so much?”

You shrug, eyes averting from his briefly. “I just admire how the Grinch put so much effort to ‘steal’—” You quote with your fingers. “—Christmas. I mean he’s an entertaining character to read about.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “What makes him so?”

“He sticks to his plans and goes through with it. I admire his perseverance despite the hardships he has been through. And I feel the same way about Christmas as he does.”

“Do you not like Christmas?”

“Nope. Don’t like this season at all.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s…” Your eyes are downcast, gaze on your steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a bit overrated, in my personal opinion. This season seems to force people to be happy.”

“Huh…” Hoseok sips his coffee. “I never really thought about it in that way. But I can understand. Is there anything else that makes the book so special?” Curiosity swimming in his eyes. “You mentioned in your review that it’s comforting, but how so?”

Just how on earth can this man be so observant?

You purse your lips, pondering. “Well, it’s comforting to see how the Grinch manages to have a change of—” You falter before shaking your head. “He’s just a great character.”

Hoseok nods, agreeing with you.

Then you change the subject, asking him how he got into gardening and decided to open his flower shop. Conversation flows so easily between the two of you that time flies so quickly.

When you step out of the cafe building with Hoseok, you couldn’t stop smiling as you hold on to the bouquet he gifted in hand. You walk back together, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until you come across the carolling choir who takes notice of you, or actually, of Hoseok.

“Hobi!” One of them calls out, breaking from the group. Her puppy-like excitement exudes out of her in waves as she draws closer. And then you recognise her as the chipper chatterbox whom you never bother to learn the name of.

Hoseok greets her, “It’s good to see you.”

Then she glances at you, more specifically the bouquet of irises in your hands. “You both went on a date?”

You snort, earning a surprised glance from Hoseok and the girl. “We just got coffee, and Hoseok is nice enough to bring me these lovely flowers as a gift. But, I don’t think it’s any of your business, right?” Lifting a brow, you spare her a questioning stare — recognising that familiar face — as she fails to come up with an answer. “And shouldn’t you get back to your singing activities spreading the Christmas spirit in this public area?” Sarcasm dripping your tone.

Her gaze narrows at you as a flash of recognition crosses her. “Aren’t you the one who sent us away from our first location?”

You nod blatantly. “You were singing in front of my shop. You were disturbing.”

“That was so rude—”

“I did warn you and your group before,” You quip. “Or would you rather I call the police next time?”

Hoseok gapes at your exchange with Chatterbox seemingly at a loss. Lucky for you — well, Chatterbox actually — the tense conversation ceases as another choir member approaches you, this time a lovely-looking elder lady. “Oh, Y/N!”

You blink, expecting her to recognise Hoseok instead since the boy is a social butterfly and probably know half of the townspeople already. “Y-You know me?” Her delicate features are somewhat familiar.

“Well, of course, I do! I volunteer in the or—”

And it clicks. “Oh!” You cut her off loudly. “Oh, nice to meet you!” Hoping the pleading look you send her can stop her from blurting other things besides pleasantries. Fortunately, she gets the message as she smiles knowingly at you before glancing at Hoseok who is utterly quiet as Chatterbox talks his ear off while he mindlessly nods.

“I should get back to my store,” you explain.

The lady smiles warmly, reducing her voice to a whisper, “Hope you come to visit us again this year.”

“I won’t miss it,” you reply with a smile of your own.

Her eyes light up at that. “And Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Have a good day, Miriam.”

And when you finally turn your attention to Hoseok, he’s already looking at you mouthing, You want to go?

You give him a brief nod. He smiles, bidding Chatterbox goodbye. But what nearly sends your heart into overdrive is that he strides to you and grabs your hand as if it’s the only natural thing to do.

“Slow down!” You huff as Hoseok turns briefly to give you a cheeky smile.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he teases, steps slowing down. Your hand goes limp, but instead of letting go of your hand, Hoseok interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there myself,” Hoseok comments. “I thought my ears were going to fall off.”

Letting out a chuckle, you tease, “I thought you were enjoying her company.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “She was mean to you. I don’t like that.”

At his words, you stumble on your steps. If it isn’t for his fast reflexes, you would be face-planting to the ground. “Ah, t-thank you.”

He chuckles, “No problem.”

And you curse your own heart for beating faster at his smile.

“She’s not bad, Jimin.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin huffs, wiping the table aggressively. “Until she decides to piss you off all the time.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Don’t even get me started.” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance. “She literally said to take the choir crew away from her store, and Ellie—”

“Ellie…?” Confusion is written all over Hoseok’s face.

“The girl who likes you,” Jimin sighs.

“Who???”

Jimin makes a face. “For someone who flirts easily, you’re awfully dense to someone else’s feelings.”

Hoseok lets out an unamused snort. “I don’t flirt—”

“You gave Y/N flowers,” Jimin gives him a pointed look.

“How did—” Hoseok comes to a realisation. “—right, Jungkook.” he mumbles before he explains, “It was supposed to be an apology gift—”

“And then yesterday you empty your supply of iris flowers too to give her for no apparent reason—”

“The kid should really learn to shut his mouth.” Hoseok groans, his cheek heating in embarrassment.

“—if that isn’t called flirting—”

“Jimin, you flirt with everyone too.”

“That’s different, hyung. I charm people.”

Hoseok sighs. “We’re going off track here.”

“Okay, so I had told the choir members to sing a few blocks away from her store. But, she drove them away again!” Jimin slaps the table with the cloth.

Hoseok scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean a few blocks away? Y/N said she found them in front of the bookstore again.”

“That’s not what Ellie told me.”

“I still don’t know who Ellie is, but I think there’s a whole misunderstanding here.”

“No, hyung. There is no clear proof—”

“Did you ask the other choir members?” Hoseok asks before sighing. “I mean, shouldn’t there at least be a few other witnesses that can confirm where exactly they were singing?”

“The entire choir said so.”

“Did they actually tell you that? Or did only Ellie tell you that and you assumed it was the whole choir crew’s answer?”

Jimin purses his lips.

“Y/N is not the type to lie, Jimin. It’s not fair to her if you only consider one person’s point of view. And I saw how unhappy Y/N was that day. Don’t you think you should’ve confirmed it with other people first before jumping to conclusions?” Hoseok lets out another disgruntled sigh.

Jimin goes silent, seemingly pondering at Hoseok’s words.

“And I invited her here—” Hoseok points at the ground, indicating the bakery. “—that afternoon, since she likes your sugar doughnuts. And other things you bake. Thought it might cheer her up, but look how it went.” He raises his arms in exasperation.

“She tried it? She never even stepped into the bakery until she came along that time with you!”

“Well…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

“___, I’ll take more of these home today!” Hoseok lifts up his hand that’s holding the powdered doughnut.

Jimin’s girlfriend nods. “Anything else?”

“Oh! Your caramel cookies too, please.”

She nods again. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Hoseok steps out of the bakery with a paper bag in hand. His nose is buried in his scarlet scarf, and he hums a soft tune while padding through the snow-covered sidewalk. As he gets closer to your dimly-lighted bookstore, his glove-covered hands start to grow clammy while his heart beats a tad faster.

“Y/N~” He calls out after the bell of the doorstep rings.

You scramble up to your feet from your slouching position behind the cashier register, wide-eyed. “H-Hoseok? What are you—” Your words falter when he lifts up the paper bag in his hold, grinning at your confused state.

“I brought some sweets.” He stops right in front of you, placing down the bag before opening it. “So… I got some powdered doughnuts…” He takes it out. “I hope you like them.”

“Well, yes. But—”

He puts the paper-wrapped doughnut on your hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I…”

“Or do you want me to feed you?” Hoseok teases, raising up the other doughnut towards your mouth. “Then here, ah—”

You take a step back, avoiding his reach before taking a bite out of your doughnut. He laughs at your pout while you chew, patiently waiting until you swallow it. “So...?”

Nodding slowly, you observe the bitten doughnut for a few moments then snap your gaze at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” You take another bite of the doughnut, fighting back the instinct to smile.

“Great! Now, try the caramel cookies!”

“Wait, but I—”

Hoseok plucks the doughnut from your hold, replacing it with a caramel cookie and urges you to try it and you comply.

“Where did you get this?” Eyes full of wonder as you stare at the cookie.

“Jimin’s bakery.”

“What? No way.”

Hoseok tilts his head in curiosity. “You’ve never tried his baked goods before? Even after months the bakery has opened?”

You shake your head. “Never had the chance. I assumed it’s nothing special. But now…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“She said what?” Jimin gapes, not sure if he heard what Hoseok said was right.

Hoseok repeats, “She likes your sugar doughnuts and caramel cookies. She said they were ‘excellent delicacies’ when she tried them.” More precisely, you said, I suppose despite his absurd personality, he still makes excellent delicacies. But Hoseok knows better than to say that.

Jimin is downright speechless at your compliment.

“Anyways,” Hoseok clears his throat. “As I was saying, I frequently visit her, and on that day she wasn’t happy at all, Jimin. So, I didn’t visit her that morning to let her cool off and visit her during the afternoon.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

Hoseok gazes up from his phone when the streetlight turns green. Shoving the device into his coat’s pocket, he crosses the street. From the corner of his eye, your bookstore comes to his view, and a smile appears on his face. As he draws nearer, his steps grow lighter. That is until he peeks in from the window and notices a deep frown on your face. He falters, weighing his own thoughts on whether or not to approach you at this moment. And he decides against it and plans to visit you in the afternoon instead to let you cool off from, perhaps, an argument.

And off he goes, still passing by your store; still purposefully slowing down his steps to see you through the stained glass window for longer, to see if you’re okay. He’s surprised at the sight of you tracing your jukebox slowly, gazing at it fondly. It must have meant so much to you, he assumes. Smiling softly, Hoseok continues down the pathway to his flower shop.

It’s nearly midday when a familiar face from Jimin’s choir group visits him. She waves at him. “Hobi!”

“Welc—”

“So, glad to see you again!” The girl squeals as she reaches him at the counter.

“Hi…”

“How are you?”

“Good and uh, shouldn’t you be singing with your choir members?”

Her face falls slightly at his question before she scoffs, “It’s cancelled because someone was so rude. She just told us to scram. Like who does that? We’re spreading the Christmas spirit! Everyone should be happy, especially at this time of year!”

And Hoseok instantly has an inkling of who this someone is. “I don’t think we have the right to judge someone. Everyone has their own problems, after all.”

She seems genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s words. But Hoseok didn’t bother waiting for her response as he said, “If you aren’t planning to buy anything, I would appreciate it if you leave. There are other customers here. And I would listen to Y/N if I were you.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“I’m sorry.”

You raise a brow at the unexpected guest who is standing right in front of you, eyeing him briefly before shifting your attention to the man beside him.

“What are you both doing here?” You ask. “More specifically, what are you doing here?” Your gaze snaps back to Jimin, who is huffing in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest — looking like he was just scolded by, you presume, the grinning man beside him. So you ask, “Hoseok, what is this?”

“I talked some sense into him,” he replies, elbowing Jimin not-so-subtly.

“I am here to apologise, Y/N. For the way I reacted in the bakery—”

Your stare narrows. “I thought we’re past that. And I told you it was my fault.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Jimin asks in a surprisingly polite manner. You assume he’s trying his best not to get frustrated further with you since, well, you always have that irritating presence during this time of the year and have the knack to run his patience thin. “I also want to apologise for assuming the worst of you.”

Now that catches you off-guard. Your silence spurs him on.

“I contacted the choir members and told them to not sing in front of your store. And I told them to sing at least a few blocks away. I should have confirmed their location with you instead of blindly trusting the people I barely interact with outside of choir activities—”

Not like we interact much either, you thought but hold back your tongue.

“—and it was my mistake for doing that. I only recently found out that they were really in front of your store—” He glances Hoseok, unamused. “—Hyung had contacted the choir people and had them confirm that they were singing in front of your store. Which is why—”

The sudden burst of your door opening startles the three of you.

“You brought her here?” Your expression clearly shows disdain at the sight of Chatterbox strutting in like she owns the place. And you wish nothing but to kick her out at this moment because she’s like an impending doom that’s about to befall your bookstore.

“No, we didn’t—” Hoseok looks flustered.

“I’m here to spread the Christmas spirit to Y/N!” Chatterbox claims with a few drinks in her hand. “Since she seems to hate our singing so much, I thought a few drinks will ease her up for Christmas!”

“Did she follow us?” Hoseok hisses to Jimin who looks just as flustered.

“I thought she should apologise to Y/N too.”

“Clearly, she has the wrong idea about this meeting,” Hoseok groans. However, just before Jimin can respond, a crash cuts him off.

It feels as if time is slowing down and your heart drops when she trips over one of the antique rugs and spills on…

“No!” You lurch forward — figure blocked by the counter you’re standing behind — towards the jukebox that’s drenched in eggnog, regarding it with widened eyes and trembling hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Chatterbox whispers, standing up straight on her feet. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You clench your fists as you snap your head towards her, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

“But the drinks—”

“I said, get out!” Rarely do you ever raise your voice, but you are already trembling in anger as no one made a single move. You grab Chatterbox, pulling her along with such strength that she struggled against your iron-like grip.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” You seethe, shoving her out like a ragdoll. Jimin approaches you carefully and tries to appease you, but you shake your head. “Now, this is your fault.”

Hoseok looks downright devastated as he watches you. “Y/N…”

“Get out, leave me alone.”

There are no other words but warmth and pure joy that can describe the sight of children excitedly rushing towards you; they are all giggling and squealing.

“Uh, please don’t block the way,” you huff. Stopping momentarily, you lift a knee to support your hold on the heavy box briefly to prevent it from slipping down.

“Y/N,” Miriam greets you with a warm smile on her face. “So glad that you can make it.”

“Of course,” you reply, crouching to place the heavy box on the wooden floor of the living room. Taking off your gloves, you ask, “Where’s Helen?”

“She’s staying with her grandson for a couple of days; said something about a family Christmas reunion.”

“Ah…” You tear open the duct tape and take out the children’s books you packed a few weeks ago. “Well, then—”

“Y/N! Are you going to read us a Christmas story this time?” One of the children — Amy — asks with a big smile on her face.

“I shouldn’t… Maybe Helen can read to you once she’s back—” Words die on your throat at the expectant — hopeful — gazes of the children that have gathered in the warm living room. “Okay… Maybe one book won’t hurt—”

The children squeal happily.

“—so, you guys pick whichever book you want, and I’ll read it to you.” Then they rush to the opened cardboard box. You make yourself comfortable against the velvet cushions that’s spread on the rug-covered floor. While the children are busy discussing which book would be their pick, you fish out your phone from the pocket of your discarded coat only to realise that Helen had sent you a message that she won’t be in the orphanage tonight.

After replying to her with some reassurance — that you’d take over the story-telling position just for today — your fingers hover over Hoseok’s unread messages from yesterday night. Well, since the day you told him to get out of your bookstore in your fit of rage.

Hoseok constantly messaged you about many things — asking how you are doing, if you want to go out to get some coffee, or even just ramble about his day. You read all of them through the notifications from your phone — the ones that are not cut off by the message bubble — and your heart aches just a little more.

“This one!” Amy runs up to you, handing the book before taking the spot right next to you.

When you read the title, you falter. “Wait, are the others okay with this or are there any books you’d like me to read?” You look around at the children who are already in their respective seats surrounding you in a half-circle; they nod eagerly.

Letting out a sigh, you purse your lips for a brief moment. “Alright then—” You lift the book up; front cover facing the children. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas…”

Then you flip the book open and begin reading the story…

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

By the time you have finished reading the book, it’s nearly midnight; most of the children have fallen asleep with a content smile on their faces. You make it your mission to help Miriam tuck them into their beds since Helen is not here tonight.

“I really appreciate what you did today, Y/N.” Miriam follows you out of the building, stopping on the doorway.

“It’s not a problem, really.” You put on your gloves.

“But I really appreciate it, Y/N. And you know you will always be welcomed here.” Miriam reminds you.

You let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thanks, Miriam. Maybe I’ll come back and help around.”

She pulls you in for a hug. “The children love you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled whenever you decide to come visit.”

After exchanging a few more words, you leave the orphanage and walk into the winter night. Gradually, your thoughts take you to Hoseok once more. You’d be lying if you don’t miss his presence and it has been just a few days since the incident. However, you just can’t find the right words to explain yourself, not when Christmas Eve is nearing.

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze low; eyes focusing on the snow-covered streets while the night grows darker with only street lanterns dimly lighting up the pathway. Just as you pass a particular house, loud laughter catches your attention, causing your legs to stop abruptly.

Through the bright window, you watch silently at what seems to be a Christmas gathering. You recognise some people who live in the same neighbourhood as you; even Jimin and Jungkook are there and… And Hoseok. Their smiles are so warm, and they seem to be enjoying themselves as they sit by the fireplace. The lively atmosphere inside the warm room is a definite contrast to the quietness of the night outside.

Letting out a sigh, you stop watching and continue on your way; once you arrive at your house, you mutter weakly, “I’m home…” After taking off your boots and gloves, you tug off your coat, brushing off the snow before you hang it on the coat hanger. Making your way towards the dark kitchen, you flip the light on and boil some water.

While waiting for it, your own mind seems to have an internal battle of its own. After that incident, you think it’s better to revert back to your old self who has no worries in being alone. However, after spending time with those children — it’s hard to admit, but you know you can’t be alone at this time of year. Spending time buried between pages of a book no longer distracts your thoughts, nor does sorting out books that are usually enough to distract you.

Opening the cabinet, you take out a box of your favourite tea, placing it on the counter. Looking back at the opened cabinet, you falter for a moment, staring at the unused mugs labelled ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. With pursed lips, you quickly take your own mug and close the cabinet.

Rain drizzles down onto the asphalt path while the repeated sound of Hoseok’s footsteps crunching fills the empty air. He avoids the wet snow, treading carefully to not soak his boots further in this weather. Rain during winter is perhaps one of the things Hoseok considers unpleasant, but it reflects his current mood despite today being Christmas Eve.

Crossing the familiar street with an opened umbrella in hand, he lets out a sigh into the cold air, fog coming out with his exhale. Growing nearer to your dark bookstore, his heart grows heavier with each step. He stops momentarily and peeks inside your darkened bookstore, then his shoulders drop in disappointment.

Arriving at his store, he closes his umbrella before entering. Hoseok rubs the sole of his boots against the ‘welcome’ rug, shaking the umbrella to shed the remaining frozen droplets on the material.

Jungkook — already onto his task of assembling bouquets — spares a glance at the older man. “No luck?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Hoseok mutters a ‘no’, passing by the counter gate and into the employee changing room.

It’s been more than a week since anyone has seen you. There has always been warm light filtering out through the window of your bookstore. However, now, your bookstore is completely dark as if life itself has been snuffed out of it.

Tugging off his thick coat, Hoseok places it on the hanger then takes the usual apron, tying it around his waist.

Hoseok wonders what had happened; the expression on your face was unlike anything he had ever seen… And, he really wants to reach out, but you have seemingly disappeared without a trace. As he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he’s still deep in thought, that is until Jungkook gasps rather loudly.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

But his movements stop completely when he hears a familiar voice — the voice he has been dying to hear again. In seconds, he barrels out of the room slamming the door albeit too loudly, startling Jungkook and…

“Y/N…” He stands in shock, still processing that you’re here.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly, “I’d like a bouquet of chrysanthemums and dahlias, please.”

The three of you lapse into silence for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I’ll… Work on them... Yeah...” Jungkook snaps his finger while pursing his lips. “I’ll do just that…” Jungkook gets to work immediately, leaving you both near the main counter as he scuffles around the shop where the chrysanthemum and dahlias are.

Your gaze wanders along the neatly placed shelves on your side, and the various colourful flowers that’s set in silver-coloured buckets. It’s your first time visiting his store, and it is unexpected, alright. After your “disappearance”, you’re now here as if nothing has happened.

“I texted you…” Hoseok mumbles, earning your attention on him. “I called you too; visited your store a few times. What happened?”

“I needed time to get myself together,” you answer, fiddling with the button of your black coat.

“Why didn’t you call or at least let me know you’re okay? You had me really worried.”

“Because it’s none of your business.” You speak monotonously, but it still manages to strike at his heart.

Hoseok clenches his fists. “Right… My friend’s business is none of my concern.”

You exhale at that but still keep your mouth shut. Even as Jungkook timidly passes by you with the wrapped bouquet. Right after you pay for the flowers, you rush out.

Hoseok releases a breath that he did not even know he was holding. And he can feel his heart squeezing in pain.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

In silence, standing in front of the two tombstones — with an umbrella on one hand — you lay the bouquet between them. One shoulder is drenched from the rain, but you don't find it in yourself to care; not at this moment when all you can think about are your parents and that tragic day.

Countless of tears you have shed on the same day, each year; though it has been half a decade since then. But your heart still lays heavy in your chest, borderline suffocating in the middle of the quiet cemetery. And it feels as if it just happened recently.

Tearing your gaze away from the tombstone, you look up to the cloudy sky and blink rapidly — adamant about not letting any tears fall this year. With a deep breath, you look back down and leave.

The cold isn’t the worst when you walk back. Usually, you would even cry on the way home thinking about your parents. But this time, your mind persistently drifts to the disappointment on Hoseok’s face from earlier, unable to forget as if it is burned into your mind.

Biting your trembling lower lip, your steps grow faster to your bookstore. You promised Miriam you would come to visit the orphanage and bring more books for the children.

Arriving at the front door, you slot in the key and are about to unlock the door when you freeze momentarily, body seizing as your brows furrow. Taking a slow deep breath, you open the door and darkness greets you as usual. Closing the door behind you, the sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor fills the air as you make a beeline towards the storage. Flicking the light on, your eyes search for the packed box on the corner, lifting it up in your arms once you find it before turning the lights off.

Walking between the shelves towards the front door, the jukebox appears in your sight. As everything that happened comes rushing back, you move towards it — dropping the box on the floor, nearly tripping over it — and your eyes looking around it frantically. “It should work now…” You mumble to yourself, at the now-cleaned jukebox and after letting it dry for days. You click the usual button, and wait…

And wait…

And…

“No…” Hands trembling, you make an attempt and press the button once more, but it just won’t turn on. “Please, please, please…” You begin to plead, tears welling up in your eyes and again you press the on button. This is the last resort, after all. You’ve called all the possible service stores that fix instruments and jukeboxes, but they all had the same response, ‘We’re sorry, this model is too old.’

“I’m sorry…” You whimper, knees giving out as a sob escapes your lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last piece of memory of your parents ceases. And your heart has never felt so cold on the night of Christmas Eve.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

When the fiftieth sigh escapes Hoseok’s lips, Jungkook spares him an empathetic glance as he does his task. “You should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to.”

“Huh… That sounds so unlike you,” Jungkook muses as he cleans up the counter. “And you’ve been brooding all day.”

“I do not brood.”

“Tell that to the five customers the usual all-sunshine-and-rainbow florist has scared away today,” Jungkook remarks and stops cleaning to face Hoseok. “You should talk to her, Hyung. It hasn’t stopped you before. What changed?”

“I… I don’t...” Hoseok falters, searching for an answer. “She’s my friend, I…”

“You…?” Jungkook nods with a know-it-all look, urging the older one to continue.

Hoseok narrows his stare at the younger one. “You’re mocking me.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, emphasising the ‘p’ with a pop. “I mean, you have always been forward with your feelings, and I really admire that. Unlike, you know, Jimin—” He pauses. “—please don’t tell him that, but yeah, what’s stopping you now?”

“I just—” Hoseok releases a deep sigh. “—I don’t want to lose her, not after everything. And she’s the type of person who really values her space. I can’t just barge in and demand to make everything alright. She’ll come around, and she’ll show it when she’s ready.”

Jungkook purses his lips, seemingly in deep thought.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Hoseok asks in frustration.

“I think I know why…” Jungkook mutters.

“Why Y/N is acting the way she did?”

“No, not exactly,” Jungkook answers. “But on why she hates Jimin’s guts, ‘cuz you know, he tends to not read the situation he’s in and go all in without thinking of the consequences—”

Hoseok makes an attempt to cut Jungkook off. However, Jungkook raises his hand to stop Hoseok as he continues, “—but you—” Jungkook gives Hoseok a pointed look. “— you tend to read the situation you’re in and that’s a good thing. So, I suggest, instead of moping around, you can just go to her and see how she is doing? See if she wants to talk and if she does, you talk, and if not, then you can leave.”

Blinking, those words sink into Hoseok’s mind. “That’s actually… A great idea…”

“Yeah, wonder why no one has thought about it, but ends up scaring away customers instead,” Jungkook retorts and clears his throat at the glare Hoseok sends his way. “Which, you know, is okay since we’re humans, after all, right? We make mistakes. And the only thing we can do is try to make up for it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that before chuckling. “You’re right, JK.”

“I know I— I mean, am I?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Right, okay. So, I’ll go check on Y/N. And since it’s already closing hours—” He glances at the wall clock while untying his apron. “—you can just close up today.”

“What?”

But Hoseok ignores him and runs straight into the changing room to grab his coat. Once he goes out, he tosses the key to Jungkook. “I’m entrusting you with it.”

“Wait, but—”

“See you tomorrow!”

And Hoseok rushes out of his store, leaving a baffled Jungkook behind.

Hoseok scores a new record in the number of minutes it takes for him to reach your bookstore. However, his shoulder droops as the last bit of his hope vanishes at the sight of the dark place.

So, you had left. Or still not coming in.

He steps closer to the window, futilely peeking inside. After a few moments, he sighs in disappointment, putting his hands inside the pocket of his long plaid coat. Just as he’s about to leave, he stops — furrowing his brows when…

Is that a whimper?

Curiously, he goes near the door once more and makes an attempt to turn the knob and it opens. Eyes widening, he enters quickly into the darkness. And there he can finally (barely) see your hunched figure on the floor beside your antique jukebox, burying your face as your arms are wrapped around your knees… Crying?

“Y/N?” He calls out in hesitance, taking a few steps closer. You look at him and Hoseok braces for you to tell him to get out.

But instead, all you can mumble is his name. “Hoseok…”

“Hey…” Slowly, Hoseok crouches on one knee to meet your gaze. “I’m here.”

You merely stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N,” he says, softly. “I’m here.”

Throat bobbing, more tears flow down across your cheeks. Hoseok opens his arms. “Come here.”

One moment you are still unmoving, and the next you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Hoseok leans back — both knees on the floor now — one hand gently pats your head while the other arm keeps you close to him.

“Let it all out. I’m here now,” He whispers, letting your face rest against the crook of his neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

[ flashback ]

It should have been a happy time for Hoseok as he gathers with all the people he cares about. Well, not all of them when you have not even read his texts. He scrolls through his phone mindlessly, staring at the texts he had sent over the past few days.

Hoseok [18/12]: Hey… how’re you feeling? I brought some sugar doughnuts today but you weren’t working today :( i hope everything’s well

Hoseok [20/12]: Y/N, i’m really sorry about what happened. Please let me know if you need anything

Hoseok [21/12]: you know i hate it when it rains so hard during the winter, i swear i came into my shop with icicles hanging on my face and jungkook had to say that i looked like that squirrel from ice age 😭 anyway, i met a tough customer today… I spent three hours waiting for them to choose which flowers they’d like for their bouquet. Even jungkook was close to combusting as well. it was torture 😢

Hoseok [22/12]: Hey, so we’re having a christmas celebration tomorrow, would you like to come? It’ll be fun!

Hoseok [23/12]: hey, Y/N! I was wondering if you’re going to make it to the celebration?

But that last text was hours ago and you had remained unresponsive. Hoseok sighs harshly and his emotions overwhelm him. And he lets himself think if you’re worth all the trouble and turmoil he’s facing.

“Something on your mind, dear?” His grandmother asks, placing one comforting hand on his knee. “I know that look on your face all too well. Your father used to have that look whenever he’s in deep thought. So, let me guess, is it a girl?”

Hoseok blinks a few times, flustered at his grandmother’s guess. “Yes, but well, no? Not really?”

“Who is it? I never heard any news about your love life. And now, your dear grandmother is absolutely curious,” she says, laughing with mirth lighting up her crinkled eyes.

Hoseok smiles softly at his grandmother before he relents and tells her all about you. At the mention of your name, he swears his grandmother just smiles a tad wider.

“It’s about time she finds someone,” she mutters to herself but Hoseok still hears it anyway.

“You know Y/N, Grandma?”

She nods. “Y/N used to live in the orphanage a few years ago… Poor thing.”

Hoseok gapes at that. “I… Never knew.” His heart twisting painfully in guilt and worry. “I’ve always assumed she had a really bad past since she never talks about it.”

“Definitely traumatising for someone so young to face heavy losses.” His grandma explains. “She dealt with most of it on her own, and… She may come across as cold, but she isn’t cruel, she’s just closed off,” Helen says softly. “But I guess you know that already?”

Hoseok nods.

“So, don’t give up on her. I think right now, she needs someone more than ever. She has had no one to lean on for so long.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

You stare silently at the crackling flames with a blanket wrapped around your frame and for some time your mind stays quiet after you have emptied out your pent-up emotions. Hoseok busies himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, and brings out two mugs of hot chocolate.

After your cry fest in the bookstore, Hoseok has taken you to his place for some hot chocolate he received from his grandmother, who had insisted that he should let you try it even when you know nothing of her. You rejected the offer at first, not wanting to bother him more after your breakdown. But Hoseok being Hoseok, from the time you have gotten to know him, you’ve learned that he can be very persuasive and persistent. And now, here you are, where he claims is his humble abode.

One thing for sure, this place screams Hoseok. It’s definitely more to the cozy side despite some unique furniture you spot decorating the place.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a mug from his extended hand as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better...” You take a sip of the hot chocolate, sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. And you resist the urge to hum in delight.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok shifts his gaze from the flames to you.

“Why did you help me?” You blurt out. “I mean, you didn’t have to… Like just now, and after the way I treated you, usually people would... Leave.”

Hoseok ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s because they don’t know you like I do.”

“But we just met each other not too long ago.”

“And that’s enough for me to get to know you, at least some part of you. And as I’ve mentioned before, I would really like to get to know you even better.”

“I don’t think you really do…” You mumble, staring into the half-finished hot chocolate.

Hoseok snorts at that. “You’re someone who really values her space and if someone dares to cross that line you’ll give them hell for it.”

His facial expression softens further as he continues, “And you’re also someone who knows how to stand up for herself, not needing anyone to defend you. You don’t care what others think of you because you already know your own worth.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Do you need me to continue? Because I still have more and—”

“Hoseok… I’m not— I don’t think I’m a nice person to be around...” you admit.

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Hoseok scoffs. “So you’re telling me someone forced you to donate children books to the orphanage and read to those children?” He recalls the pictures his grandmother showed him the other day — of you reading to the children and having a pleasant time with them.

Blinking, you gape at him. “H-How did—”

“My grandma told me.” Hoseok is now looking at you, unamused. You shoot him a confused look as he explains further, “Helen is my grandmother. And I may not know what you have gone through, Y/N. But I told you I’m here and you don’t have to face things on your own now.”

You look away from his gaze, unable to keep looking into his intense stare any longer.

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

You stiffen at his question as it becomes silent between the two of you besides the crackling sound of flames. Hoseok sighs after a few moments, placing his hand on your arm briefly as if to say ‘it’s alright’ then standing up from the couch.

Just as he’s about to step into the kitchen, you blurt out, “I loathe Christmas.” And his steps falter, he turns slightly to look at you fiddling with the mug nervously. “I hate anything that has to do with Christmas because like I once told you, this season seems to force people to be happy. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re hurting inside, no consideration of how people truly feel in the heart. And I gradually find it pointless and fake.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I… I lost my parents on Christmas Eve.” And the image of the car flipping upside down still vivid in your mind and you can hear the crash as clear. “I don’t deserve to feel happy, not when I should’ve gone with them at the incident. I-I should have gone with them. It's n-not fair that they’re gone and I’m here and alone and if I’m happy while they’re not here—” you blabber, hands shaking rapidly. “It’s not fair and now, I’ve failed them, I lost them— Their jukebox is broken and I can’t do anything about it,” you whimper. “Just like that day.”

“Y/N…” And you didn’t realise Hoseok is already in front of you, crouching. He lays his hand gently on yours after taking your mug, placing it on the coffee table. “Look at me,” he stares up into your eyes, gaze so warm and gentle that you might even break down again. It’s been a long time since someone looked at you that way. “You can’t take responsibility over the things that are out of your control.”

“And what you had gone through is unimaginable, but do you think you’ve punished yourself enough, even though it’s not your fault? You stopped letting yourself enjoy life itself and — correct me if I’m wrong — your parents wouldn’t want that for you,” Hoseok says. “Would they want you to be trapped in your past?”

You let his words sink in.

“And despite your jukebox not working anymore, that doesn’t mean that your parents are gone.” Hoseok grips your forearm, lifting your right hand to place it on top of your heart. “They live in you. You’re their daughter after all. The jukebox only serves as a memory of them, but surely, you have other memories of them.”

After all this time, you realised that’s what you needed to hear — you haven’t failed your parents, despite everything.

“And looking at how you’ve grown into this amazing woman that I have the privilege to get to know, I’m definitely sure your parents are proud of you.”

Face crumpling, your palm covers your eyes as another sob escapes your throat.

Sitting again next to you, Hoseok coos and gathers you in his arms. “Cry all you want, I’m here, love. I’m here…”

And you cried again, the hardest you’ve done in a long time.

Once you have calmed down, you murmur, “They used to dance around the house a lot...” Tear-stained cheek resting against his chest as you find yourself curled up on his lap. “Hanging socks and filling them with candies, claiming that they’re for the elves that visit late at night.”

Hoseok leans against the throw pillows, quietly listening as you tell stories of how your parents used to love the winter season. His warmth comforts you and your still-aching heart.

That night you fell asleep in his arms; the last bit of your emotions all used up, but your heart definitely feels lighter than the past years.

Knocking on the wooden door, you clear your throat, hearing scurrying footsteps before the door opens.

“Y/N!” Miriam exclaims. “I was so worried, you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Sorry, something came up yesterday and I didn’t realise how late it was when I was done. But I bring another couple of books?” You lift up the box in your hands in emphasis.

Miriam lights up at that. “Well, come on in. The children will be so happy. They are excited to—”

“Oof—!” The loud thump behind you causes you to turn to see Hoseok huffing, catching his breath — one hand on his knee as he sits on the stairs — another box on top of the stoop. “I didn’t realise how much book you’ve packed, Y/N.”

Snorting, you place the box you’re holding on your left hip and extend your right hand to him, instinctively, to help him up. “C’mon, the children are inside and we should help to unpack the boxes first.” He takes your hand and pulls himself up, nearly stumbling and having his face close to yours.

As if his piercing gaze locks you in a trance, you stare back until he murmurs, “Well, someone is looking beautiful today.”

Spluttering, you let go of his hand, face burning. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok laughs at your embarrassment before he lifts up the box on the floor and makes his way inside, passing by Miriam who’s waiting by the door.

When you step inside, Miriam whispers, “Is he—?” Her tone lace with curiosity as a teasing smile appears on her lips.

“Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend—” You say too quickly, flustered.

“Well, I meant to ask if he is Helen’s grandson, but I see.” Miriam fails to stifle a big smile now. “You two would look really good together.”

You curse yourself, walking faster as Miriam laughs behind you, closing the door. When you reach the living room, the children are already waiting and once you step into their view, they squeal happily.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Amy waves to you giddily. “Hobi says you brought more books for us!”

“H-Hobi…?” You blink. Snapping your gaze towards said man who is already looking at you intently and you avert your gaze once more to the grinning children. “Umm, yeah. I do.” You sit beside Hoseok, tearing the tape off the boxes you two brought in.

This time you brought in colouring books and other story books.

“Can Hobi read to us today?” One of the children asks.

You shift your gaze to his surprised face, a teasing smile appears on your face. “Yeah, Hobi, you should read to them today.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze at you before leaning close to whisper, “You should call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” Then he turns to the children, smiling. “Alright, I’ll read for today. And which book do you want to read?”

“Which one is your favourite, Hobi?” Another kid — Ian — asks, curiously looking through the books.

“Well…” Hoseok scans through the titles of the stacked books. Your eyes widen at his pick. “This one!” He lifts up the How the Grinch Stole Christmas book.

“Wait— I read that to them already,” you try to stop the children’s interested looks.

“He can read it to us again!” Amy says giddily. “I think it’s a really nice story!”

“But there are other better books to read,” you offer. “Like…” You look through the books you brought. “This! The Night Before Christmas!” you read the title aloud.

“We can read that later,” Quin whines. “We want to hear Hobi read the book!”

Unbelievable. How the hell can these children choose him over you already?

As if he can read your mind, Hoseok shoots you a smug look and you pout like a petulant child. “Fine, I’m gonna go to the kitchen to help Miriam,” you huff, standing up and stomp out.

Hoseok watches your figure disappear into the kitchen before he says, “She’s so cute, isn’t she?”

Amy nods, grinning. “She’s grown up, but she’s still like us! That’s why playing with Y/N is so fun!”

“Right…” He gives a brief soft smile at Amy before he clears throat. “So let’s begin…”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“You’re not reading to the children?” Miriam asks when you appear in the kitchen.

“No, Hoseok’s handling that.” You take a fresh apron and tie it around your waist. “So… I’ll help out with the cookies.”

“Alright then,” Miriam chuckles, handing you the mixing bowl and mixer. “You can continue mixing the ingredients until everything’s smooth and I’ll take out the cookies I baked earlier.”

You flip the switch of the mixer on and continue to mix the ingredients. When the texture of the dough is smooth, you place the mixture into small scoops on the baking tray and that’s when you overheard Hoseok’s voice.

“What can you learn from the Grinch’s story?”

“Oh! Oh!” One of the kids exclaims. “That Christmas isn’t all about gifts!”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “And also, despite the Grinch being mean at first, even unkind, that doesn’t mean that they are truly that way at heart.”

Your movements falter at his words.

“There is always a reason behind their actions,” Hoseok points out. “So, it’s always best to learn about them first before assuming things.”

“You sound like you know the Grinch well.” Amy tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you happen to know the Grinch, Hobi?”

“Well, I don’t know the Grinch personally,” he muses. “But I do know someone who is very similar to him. Maybe that’s why I grew fond of the Grinch.”

Did Hoseok just compare you to the Grinch?

You scoff internally. Quickly, you finish scooping the rest of the cookie dough onto the tray before placing it in the oven after Miriam takes out the first batch of cookies and then retrieving a serving tray from one of the cabinets.

“Oh!” Amy raises her hand enthusiastically. “I know! I know!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“An act of kindness towards someone can change them!”

Hoseok blinks. “That… Is right.”

“That’s right.” You walk into the living room with glasses full of milk for the children. “An act of kindness can change a person’s life.” Placing the tray on the coffee table, you look at the children one by one. “So, it’s important to be kind to others.”

As if on cue, Miriam brought out the freshly-baked cookies. And the children flock around her to get a piece. She chastises them and sets the cookies on the table alongside the glasses of milk.

You spent the entire Christmas day in the orphanage, helping out and spending time with the children and Hoseok. You even meet Helen who never stops gushing once she finds the two of you visiting the orphanage.

When it’s already late at night, you and Hoseok bid the children farewell with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. Hoseok walks you home afterwards, and silence falls between you — both comforting and soothing. Arriving in front of your doorsteps, you turn to him who is already staring at you with his bright eyes.

“Thank you for today, Hoseok—” You stop at his unamused look. “What?”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” He steps closer to you. You step back. “Hearing you saying ‘Hoseok’ all the time makes it sound so formal between us.”

“Alright—” You place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. “—Hobi, got it.”

“That’s better.” He chuckles at your antics before he steps back, stance growing uneasy. “And, uh, I forgot to tell you that there’s a winter market near the town hall. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?”

You nod without any hesitance.

“But Jimin will be there too.” And he adds quickly, “With his girlfriend. So, he won’t bother us and—”

“I’ll go.” You pause for a moment. “There’s something I need to resolve with him too.”

A gentle smile appears on Hoseok’s face at that. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He grins before tugging you in for a hug to which you reciprocate as if it’s second nature. And you both stay like that for a while until Hoseok mumbles suddenly, “I think I left something in your bookstore when we went to pick up the books earlier.”

You laugh. “Well then, I can go with—”

“Oh no, that's okay!” He says quickly. “I’ll go there myself, if you’re okay with lending me your key?”

“Oh, sure.” You take the keys out of your pocket. “Don’t lose it, yeah?” You chuckle, handing him the keys.

He nods. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s another cold morning. Jungkook stifles a yawn as he walks along his usual route to Hoseok’s flower shop. Unable to contain his yawn any longer, he covers his face with his hand before he freezes — mid-yawn — when he sees you standing in front of the shop.

Quickly shutting his mouth, he calls out, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snaps to him from your phone. “Jungkook, hi!”

Uh-oh. Jungkook wonders if Hoseok has screwed up — since the man himself isn’t here — and now you’re seeking help from him to perhaps find ways to get rid of his hyung.

“Hey… May I ask what you’re doing here?” He checks his watch briefly. “So early…?”

“Hi, yeah, so I need a bouquet…” You fidget nervously.

“Oh?” Jungkook focuses on unlocking the glass door. “May I know what you’re looking for?”

“Hydrangeas and irises...”

He opens the door and motion for you to enter before following suit. “I’ll put my things in the back and I’ll wrap your bouquet.”

You mutter an ‘okay’ as he quickly changes into his uniform. Jungkook changes in record time as he has heard of stories of you being impatient, especially during the winter season. And well, someone has never intimidated him so much even though he is taller than you.

“Okay, so, hydrangeas and irises,” Jungkook mutters once he’s out of the changing room. He makes a quick dash towards the respective flower buckets and brings it back to the counter.

“Oh… They’re pretty,” you comment, eyeing the flowers curiously. But somehow Jungkook feels like you are scrutinizing him, ready to nitpick at him should you find any mistake or flaw.

“Why are your hands shaking?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands—” you point out. “—are shaking. Don’t you do this every day?”

“Not every day,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “Anyways—” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “Who’s the special one?”

You blink. “Uh…”

Another uh-oh. This will not end well. Hyung is going to throw a major fit if he finds out about this.

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” Jungkook arranges the flower stems together. “No one is going to hear about this. I promise you. I know you really value your privacy.” You shoot him a confused look while he rambles. Not long after, he lifts up the bouquet. “Is... This okay?”

“Do you have yellow irises?”

“Uh, you want the yellow one?” He makes a face.

“What is it?”

“It’s going to be ugly,” he blurts out before he remembers who he's talking to. “I-I mean if you want them then I’ll search for the yellow—”

“No! That's okay!” Your hands flay to stop him from finding more irises. “It’s fine, really. I trust your opinion. You’re the expert.”

Jungkook blinks, clearly caught off-guard by your words. “Oh… I— Thank you.”

You nod, giving him a smile that is, dare he say, pretty.

“Okay,” He relaxes, bunny-smile appearing on his face. “I’ll finish this up quick.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook finally manages to finish the bouquet and you thank him incessantly to which he responds with a flustered ‘No problem, just doing my job…’

Rushing out of the store, you check your phone for Hobi’s text which says that he’s on the way to the market and would meet you there. With your heart fluttering, you put your phone back into your pocket after sending him a ‘see u too, hobi :)’.

Arriving in the market twenty minutes later, you spot him standing near the entrance, waving at you enthusiastically.

“Hey,” he starts before gaze dropping on the bouquet you extend to him. “Wha—”

You mumble, “These are for you...”

His eyes grow wide. “I… Thank you.” He breathes out. “Wow, this is so unexpected. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle.

“So…” He observes the bouquet. “You bought these flowers from my shop and you’re giving them to me.”

At his words, you blink as realisation dawns on you. “Uh, oh right I—” You stammer, flustered.

And Hoseok laughs at your cuteness. “Aww, that’s okay. I’m just joking. But, thank you. It’s really meaningful.”

“You know the meaning of the flowers?”

He grabs your hand, tugging you along into the market. “Of course. Hydrangeas means—”

“—grateful for being understood.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

You both say simultaneously.

He stops, turning to you as his hand tightens on yours.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” You meet his gaze. “And, I really appreciate what you did for me these past few days — months — actually. I really can’t thank you enough.”

A soft smile decorates his lips. And before the both of you are able to say anything else, a familiar voice calls out Hoseok’s name. Turning your gaze to Jimin and his girlfriend, you greet them with a small ‘hello’ and a smile. As they walk closer, Jimin has a wary look on his face while his girlfriend responds to you with a smile of her own.

“Jimin…” You earn his attention. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods as his girlfriend and Hoseok gives both of you space.

“Look. About the other day, I know you had no intention of bringing Chatterbox to my store to mess things up. I just want to apologise, you just wanted to set things right and I blamed you for her actions which you have no absolute control over.”

“No, Y/N. I could have explained better that we’re going to just apologise — no drinking and no singing—”

“And it’s in the past,” you cut him off. “And that’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry for not trusting you,” Jimin sighs. “I thought they had really sung a few blocks away, but you still did not like it and drove them away.”

You shake your head. “Even though I hate their carolling so much, I would have tolerated it if they were singing a few blocks away. But they still sang in front of my store and that angers me.”

“I wouldn’t take your words lightly, Y/N.”

“I sure hope not,” you snort, but then a grin appears on your face. A genuine smile appears on Jimin’s face in return as he extends his hand. And you shake it with yours, finally making up.

Returning to Hoseok’s side, you both wander around the market and you take in the festivity of it all.

“Oh! Look at those skewers!” Hoseok points out in excitement. “Wanna go try it?”

You nod at him. “I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ve never been to any of the winter markets.”

“Alright,” he answers giddily, taking your arm to loop around his own. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” Chuckling at that, he leads you towards the first food stall of the day.

People are smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves and for once it does not bring as much bitterness as before. It’s been quite some time since you are able to feel this way without holding back. But you’re certain you’ll move on, little by little.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“That was really fun,” you laugh, walking back to your bookstore with Hoseok still glued on your side. Despite not being in a crowded place any longer, he refuses to let go of you.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he muses. “We should do this more often.”

“Hanging out in markets, trying out various kinds of food together?”

“Well, if you consider it a date,” Hoseok says as you reach your store.

“Are you asking me out, Jung Hoseok?” You fish out the keys, unlocking the door.

“You remember my whole name?” He teases.

You shoot him a playful glare, stepping inside. “I mean, I have a sharp memory when it comes to relevant people in my—” You stop, gaping at the sudden colourful hues of orchids and dahlias decorating the broken jukebox. “I… What—”

Hoseok watches you stride towards the jukebox, observing the flowers intently with your glassy gaze while he takes off his gloves. At that moment, you seem like a child finding a surprise gift from Santa. And if Hoseok could, he would like to keep this moment into his memory forever.

When you finally turn to him, you ask, “D-Did you do this?”

He nods. “It’s fake though, since we don’t want them to wilt and—” You lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as he nearly drops the bouquet you had given him earlier. Setting it down on the cashier counter, he wraps his arms around you as well in a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“It’s still beautiful, Hobi…” you murmur, breathing in his scent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I hope it would bring comfort to you, Y/N…”

Pulling away — still in his arms — you meet his gaze and blurt out, “Gosh, I swear I think I can kiss you right now.” The pair of you stiffen as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I mean—”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he says, cupping your cheek. Leaning down to close the distance between you. You scan through his eyes for any signs of hesitance and when you find none, you close the remaining distance, meeting his lips with yours.

Everything happens so fast, but Hoseok is the only clarity at this moment as his hand on your waist moves up to cup your other cheek to deepen the kiss.

“Hobi...” You breathe out as he backs you against one of your shelves. “Hoseok—”

“Y/N...” he murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as he looks into your eyes, gaze half-lidded. “Do you know what blue irises mean?”

You blink, still processing his question. “Hope… And faith?”

He chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It also means deep feelings when gifted to someone.”

Gaping, you stare up at his face.

“Is that how you feel? Towards me?”

You nod slowly.

He kisses your forehead softly and your eyes flutter shut. Interlacing your fingers together, he leans his forehead on yours while he whispers, “I feel the same way. I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He then mumbles, “I really, really like you, Y/N.”

“I really, really like you too, Hobi.” You meet his lips again. He smiles into the kiss.

When you both pull away to catch your breaths, you bury your face on the crook of his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

And he kisses your temple, holding you tighter in his arms.

After punishing yourself over the loss of your parents, you had never given yourself a chance to move on. But you have known for quite some time that some part of you longed for a change. That is why you admire the Grinch who has a change of heart towards Christmas. Now with Hoseok by your side, you realise that you can move on as he encourages you to finally take a step forward. And for once you look hopefully to a happier future.

author’s note: honestly, i nearly turned this into a drabble series, but well, my writings are either too long or too short theres no in between so, oneshot it is sjdksjkfsd i hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, feedbacks are always appreciated !! if you’re interested in jimin’s story, you can find it here! thank you for reading 💕

[dalamjisung]

stream it ❊ mark tuan

word count: 2690

genre: slice of life, streamer!mark 

member: mark x reader

description: your best friend is finally coming back, after years of living oceans away; but for some reason he is ignoring you. What is he planning?

He doesn’t tell you much. Actually, the little he does tell you is the same as nothing and if you ask anything else, he just changes the topic.

We’re finishing things today, he texted you almost a week ago, and after that, radio silence. You try calling, but not only he doesn’t pick up, but he also turns his phone off, and now all you can do is cuss him through your window, carefully keeping your voice down so that his family won’t hear you disgracing the name of their dear son.

Mr. Tuan had already caught you staring into his son’s empty room many times, and he’d always invite you over whenever he did, asking if you wanted to go take a look into his room– you two did spend a lot of time in there, after all. You did, once; but then never again… it looks exactly like it did the day he left for Korea and although it’s been more than ten years now, something inside still pulled and twisted at your heartstrings. A nostalgic pain, is what Ms. Tuan called it, and you nod; she’d know best, indeed. You might miss your best friend, but she misses her son, and nothing you feel or do can ever amount to that.

A shower is just what you need, you conclude, but even when the scalding hot water hits your back in a soft massage, you can’t stop thinking about him. Years ago, before he left, Mark made you a promise: he promised you two would finish what you started– and you knew what that meant, you knew he was talking about the relationship that had been blossoming for the past months… however, you started to doubt yourself as time went by. With the years, the feelings you had– have,– the feelings you have for him, started to numb, almost like a dull presence behind the rest of your life; behind all the other relationships you had, all the other decisions you made, everything. It’s always been there, and it is there still. No matter how much you rub your skin, how much you empty your head, Mark is always there. So naturally, after he told you he’d be coming back home, everything resurfaced. Only be the shattered again once he disappeared.

“Get over it,” You sigh, changing into an oversized t-shirt Mark left at your house last time he visited, a couple of years ago or so. You don’t even bother drying your hair, too tired with everything to deal with the task, and just throw yourself in your bed, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram.

Until you see the familiar notification.

marktuan started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

You sit up rather quickly, phone almost flying out of your hand with the abruptness of it all. His face takes all of the screen and there is a smile on his face, mischievous, almost childish. You feel overwhelmed– confused, happy, anguished,– it all comes forth in a second upon hearing his laughter. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you almost miss it– you almost don’t catch the red chair he’s sitting on, one that is freakishly similar to the one in the room across from your window. You heart is pounding on your chest, mind reeling with even the slightest possibility, and when, only when, you see a white fluff jumping onto his lap, Milo’s bark echoing from you phone at the same time you hear it from the neighboring house, you get up, screaming in shock.

“Ah, she’s here, everybody,” He chuckles, looking to the side, and you know he’s looking through his window to try and catch a glimpse of you. “I just heard her scream from her room.”

He’s here. He is in Los Angeles. And he’s been ignoring you even though you’re just a few feet away. Oh… oh, you are fuming.

Marching to your window, you pull your curtains open, and violently open the window, allowing the chill air of California’s night take over you. Your voice echoes from your phone when you finally shout out to him.

“MARK TUAN YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Oh my god,” He laughs, throwing his head back, and this time, you see him through his window. “Y/N, there are kids watching this!”

“I swear to god, Tuan, once I put my hands around your neck I am going to kill you!” He is looking at you know, hand over his mouth to cover his shocked expression, but you see it in his eyes– the resurfacing childish glee that shines behind the adultness in his face. He goes to his own window, leaning forward, and if he just stretched his arm out, your could reach for his hand. 

“Long time no see, Y/L/N,” He winks, and you reach out, stretching so far out that you could’ve fallen if not for his hand stoping you. “Y/N, wait– no, don’t; jesus, we haven’t done this in a while... Use the front door like a normal person, woman!”

“I’m going to jump,” You warn him, legs swinging over and getting in position. “And if I still can do it, if I don’t die in the process… you should run.”

“Wait, wait, wa–“ His whole torso is out of the window, arms out to grab you once you are within reach. He embraces you to pull you inside, like he did when you were kids. Your hands grab his windowsill on the inside, feet landing on the outside wall, and together you two get you into his room. “Are you insane?! Y/N, we are old!”

“Oh no, mister,” You don’t even care that, right now, millions of people from all around the world are watching you threaten your best friend. You don’t care that millions of people have just watched you enter him room through his window. You don’t care about anything right now… anything but Mark. “You are dead.”

You punch him in the arm, and you know that the pained face and gasp are all for show– you could feel his muscles with every punch, every slap, every touch.

“You see this, guys?” Mark looks at the camera, hair falling in his face as he dodges away from you. “She will kill me! Aghase, help me!”

“Aghase will understand me,” You snarl, getting closer. “Once they find out that you’ve been here all this time and never told me!”

“I got back home this morning!” He holds your hands above your head, body glued to his. “I just got here!”

“Then you had a whole day to tell me about it and you didn’t!” One hand frees itself and grabs his shoulder, shaking him in despair.

“Mom!” He shouts, laughing as you lost your mind. “Mom, help! Dad!”

“They’re not coming,” You tell him, struggling to free yourself. “Your parents left with mine for dinner an hour ago. You’re all mine, Tuan.”

And he softens, out of nowhere; his arms, his shoulder, his smile. It all softens, and, slowly, he lets go of your hands, using the end of his grasp on you to pull you to a warm embrace; one so familiar and fitting that all your worries just vanish, and you sense that it’s not just you. The way his head falls on top of yours, kissing your hair; the way his arms are tight, like two vines around you; the way his chest heaves because it can finally breath fresh air– Mark is home.

“I missed you,” Your voice is gurgled from unshed tears, and with your damp hair and barely there shorts, you sure look crazy. “Mark, I missed you so much, why did you–“

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, a weak chuckle leaving him. “I’m sorry, bug. I promise I’ll never do that again.”

“Aghase,” You call out, looking at the computer. “You are watching this, right? Next time he disappears, I’m gonna count on all of you to find him.”

You see all the comments popping go the screen and your curiosity gets the best of you, but when you pull away to go try and read them, Mark whines and pulls you back to him.

“No,” He mumbles, voice hoarse on your neck. “Not yet.”

“The world it watching us, you big baby,” You roll your eyes. “At least tell them something!”

“Aghase!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. “We’ve accomplished our mission! Operation Surprise Y/N is complete!”

More comments pop up but he is quick to wave them goodbye and shut the browser down. When he turns back to look at you, his eyes travel from yours, down to the shirt that brings a smirk of recognition to his face, and then to your legs, naked and vulnerably to the chill air.

“Everything is the same,” You say, breaking the silence, too anxious and nervous now that he is here, right in front of you. He looks so different from how you see him in the screen of your phone; so tall, so real. His hair is brown again, like it used to be when you were kids, and his eyes still do that thing when he smiles, that shinny glint of innocent mischief with the creases in the sides. But what’s so different, you finally notice, is how happy he looks to be home– how relaxed and at ease he finally is. All the times he’d been back it was rushed, always fast and busy; interviews with American broadcasting programs or modeling gigs with magazines would take all of his time. Now, though… now he stands in childhood room, looking at you, as if he has all the time in the world to do so, because, well, he does.

“I know,” Mark shoves his hands in his pockets, slowly walking to you. “It’s weird, right? Nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing’s changed,” You nod, sitting in his bed. You look around, memories of you two in that same room flooding your mind. “Wait… you just got here, right? Where’s your stuff?”

Mark looks around, too, surprised that you even noticed. “Oh… I’m not– I moved somewhere else.”

“Wha–“ You try to move, but Mark is quicker, and he sits down next to you– one arm around your waist keeping you glued to him. Your head falls on his shoulder with a defeated thud and you don’t understand… “You just got back.”

“So what?” He look at you with a frown. “I still need somewhere to live, and–“

“What I mean is that you just got back,” You mumble, turning your body to throw your legs over his; thighs laying on top of his and head nuzzled in his neck. Your hands though, are tucked to your chest, and they slowly move so your fingers can grab the extra fabric of his t-shirt, holding it as if that is the only thing keeping him next to you– the only thing stopping him from leaving again. “At least stay here a bit, you know? Your mom missed you a lot, and your dad, too! They want to spent some time with their son, and I… I just missed seeing you everyday.”

“You can still see me everyday,” Mark’s hand moves your face up, forcing you to look at him. The closeness is enough to make you blush harder than the first time he kissed you; harder than when he made his promise. “I’ll still be here in L.A.”

“Yeah, but L.A. is huge,” You roll your eyes, blinking some tears back. “I don’t know how far you’ll be! Or– or why are you even choosing to live alone; I mean, I get that you shared a dorm for years but… but you just got back, Mark, and I don’t know, you could stay here with us for a while.”

“I’m not,” He chuckles, kissing your nose. “Living alone, I mean. Hopefully, you’ll move-in with me.”

“Me?!”

“Your dad mentioned you were looking into moving out when I called him a few weeks ago, and I don’t see why not,” He shrugs, pushing your hair behind your ear. “We would have a lot of fun.”

“You are almost thirty years old,” You sound as confused as you probably look. “And you want to live with your best friend?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head, fishing out a set of keys from his pocket and dangling it in front of your face. When you try to grab it, he pulls it back. “I want to live with my girlfriend.”

“Mark,” You look at him, heart speeding up with the proximity. “Don’t you think you skipped a few steps there, buddy?”

“I don’t think so,” He smile, moving forward to peck your lips and pull back, leaving you craving for more, lips brushing against yours as he continues to speak. “I made a promise, after all; this is just me making good on that promise. Now, yes or no?”

“Just like that?” You mumble, moving to kiss his lips, too, and he smiles wide. “Yes or no?”

“Just like that, baby,” And it feels like a game, this light kissing, this barely touching, this whispered words. It feels like he is baiting you, and if this is what awaits for you in the future, then you are more than happy to fall into his trap.

“Obviously yes.”

Nothing about this kiss is desperate or intense or hungry. In fact, the laziness of it all, the slow push and pull makes it so much more than you could’ve ever remember; it’s all so Mark and your whole body calls for his, pulling him closer, laughing in excitement. He is back. He is yours.

After a while of this, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re going to stream this?” You whisper at him, eyes wide and body recoiling.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He groans, and that noise does something to you that has you closing your eyes and shivering. “I’m just texting our parents.”

“Why?”

“To tell them they can come back.���

“They knew?” You shoot up from where you are laying in his bed, arms hugging him from behind as you hide your face in his back. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

“Of course they knew,” Mark scoffs at you. “I was going to ask you to marry me, then I though I should maybe start off slower, but I already talked to your dad about it.”

“What?!”

“Oh yeah,” He smirks, turning his head to kiss you deeply. “Expect a proposal in like, six months or something like that.”

“Mark–“

“Did she say yes?” A voice comes from the phone and you both look to where six heads are trying to fit into one screen. “Hyung, did you get dumped?”

“Uh, no, I did not get dumped, Bam,” Mark sighs, and gives you the phone. You’ve only met the guys briefly, but you, Yugyeom and Bambam had proven to be quite similar, and you laugh upon seeing the youngsters dab their excitement away.

“Hey guys!” You wave, moving to Mark’s lap so that they can see both of you. The tasing continues until your parents come home and then they just carry on where the boys left off, making jokes and complaining about the apparent delay in this relationship.

Somehow, going to sleep is hard. Your mind is still spinning from all that just happened, but when Mark jumps in through your open window and lays next to you, you know that no matter how confused you are, he’ll always be there to help you understand things a little better.

“I’m so excited to show you the apartment tomorrow,” He says, cuddling next to you. “Maybe that’ll be my first video for the YouTube channel.”

“Hm,” You turn in his arms, looking deep into his eyes. “I still think Bambam’s idea is better.”

“Y/N, don’t–“

“You should definitely play The Sims4 for your first video.”

And that’s when it hits you.

No matter how far away Mark is; no matter how busy he might be– Mark will always make time for the ones he loves. So no matter how sad goodbyes are, they are not forever… not with Mark Tuan.

----------------------------

First one of the series! How about it? What do you think? Let me know :D I’m excited to see Mark’s career take off in the US. Once again, thanks for the support lovelies, it means the world for me <3

[fluffymisha97]

Falling, Fallen - Part 3 - 1/2

Summary: The next date couldn’t possibly go as wrong as the first one. 

Warnings: Language. 

Word count: 3,512

About a week later, Chris had thought of everything. Had anyone asked him, he would say that he’d come up with a brilliant plan. Although he did ask Scott for advice in the beginning. The little brother was more than happy to help out. He could see how much it meant to Chris. Anything to help out a brother.

The day couldn’t and wouldn’t end as badly as your first date. That was something Chris had decided on. He’d texted you on Wednesday asking if you’d plans for the weekend. Luckily, you didn’t have any plans. Chris decided on taking you out Saturday around noon. You were both excited for your date and none of you could hardly wait.

When Saturday came, you’d been waiting by the window looking down the parking spaces in front of your building. A car honk was all you needed to know that he’d arrived. He waited by his car as you came down the stairs inside the apartment building. You smiled as you spotted Chris outside. You briefly heard Abby yell out something a la ‘have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t’. You stepped outside in the cold breeze and walked towards Chris.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Chris awkwardly went back and forth between going for a hug or a handshake. It ended up being a very odd handshake with a halfway sided hug. Chris cringed inside. Great start. You hadn’t given it much thought and stuffed your hands inside the warmth of your

“So, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise for now.”

“Exciting… Although I should probably be a little more cautious when getting into a car with someone I don’t know all that well. Stranger danger and everything.”

Chris flashed you a smile as he opened the door for you.

“It’s a good thing that you know me a little bit then?”

“We’ll see. Hopefully you aren’t an axe murdering movie-star.”

“Nope, just me.”

You climbed into the already warm car and buckled up. You watched as Chris took a few long strides around the car and then gracefully getting in. He smiled at you as he typed in an address on the GPS. You fiddled with your hands as you prepared yourself mentally for what the day would bring.

“Besides think about all the work murdering me would bring you. I mean disposing the body, cleaning the crime scene and so forth on.”

“Yeah, that does seem like a lot of work. Plus, I’ll probably end up unraveling the truth about the murder anyway.”

“Aww, that makes me feel a little bit better. I think.”

Chris laughed with you. It felt like you were trying to break the ice for him. The two of you chatted non-stop as the radio hummed in the background. It was insane how easy it was to talk with Chris. He talked and then listened at all the right moments. He mostly listened to you wanting to know everything about you. He enjoyed hearing your voice. It was a nice speaking voice and it turned out that you were also gifted with a nice singing voice.

Chris had given you his phone so that you could find some music. You shuffled through some of his many playlists and found one that made you smile.

“So, uh…Chris, tell me something… Are you a fan of Grease?”

“Well I…I… Depends on if you think it’s kinda loser-ish of me to have a playlist called ‘My Grease groove’.”

You could tell you made him nervous and self-conscious about a lot of things apparently. You pressed play and the tune of ‘Summer Nights’ filled the car.

“I happen to love Grease.”

Chris breathed out in relief as he saw your smile out the corner of his eye. You softly sang along to many of the songs and Chris mostly listened and hummed along every now and again.

The drive lasted about 45 minutes which flew in a hurry. Chris parked the car outside what looked like a hall. You dreaded it was a gym center or something like that. As you were getting out, Chris who’d opened your door held up a blind fold which made you narrow your eyes a bit.

“Okay now seeing where we’re…I’m beginning to circle back to the ‘what if’. What if you’re an axe murdering person?”

“Only kidding. C’mon.”  

Chris smirked at you and gestured for you to walk ahead. You scanned the place for any signs that would tell you where you were. Mostly because you were so curious to see where you were going.

“So, Y/N. you’re probably wondering what we’re to do out here, yes?”

You nodded your head as Chris continued walking towards a backdoor entrance. He opened the door for you and as you got inside you started to realize just where exactly you were. Or what kind of place it really was. Chris came to stand in front of you with arms wide as he gestured to the room. He sported a very happy face as he watched you.

“What’s your take on Ice skating?”

“The sport genre or my ability to do it?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, I’m probably pretty decent at it but-…”

You and Chris were interrupted by a hoarse voice behind you. An elderly man appeared as you turned around.

“Mr. Evans, I got the rink ready for you and your date. If you’d follow me- Oh, I’m going to need your shoe size, Miss.”

You told him your size and followed the two men leading you to a skating rink. All ready and polished. You felt giddy inside. But something was off. Chris, the man called Sal, and you were the only people in the room.

“Hey, did you rent this entire place?”

“Well…not the entire place just this rink.”

You were completely baffled at this. Never had anyone done something like that for you. Sal came back with two sets of ice skates and gave them to you and Chris.

“Thanks a lot Sal. I’ll be sure to tell my sister to book her son’s birthday party out here.”

“You do that, son. Remember: Sal’s skates is for everyone all shapes, sizes and ages. Now, you two go and have fun.”

You giggled hearing the sales pitch Sal shouted out enthusiastically and sat down to put on your skates. Chris sat down next to you and put on his own. You were much quicker than Chris and already up on your feet when were still working on securing his first skate.

You carefully stepped onto the ice while holding onto the wall for ‘support’.

“So, when I said that I was decent on ice I should’ve probably elaborated.”

Chris looked at you puzzled as you leapt of the wall and started skating with pace and grace that clearly showed that you were no amateur. You skated a few rounds wanting to get warm and went right back the latch where Chris stood with a gaping mouth.

“I’m not just decent, I’m kind of great at skating.”

You bit your lip and offered the gaping Chris a nervous smile.

“Well okay then Tonya Harding.”

You could tell that Chris was still a bit in shock over your confession. It was clear that he hadn’t seen this coming.

“No, no. I’m nowhere near her. Brilliant lady but kind of insane the way things turned out.”

Chris let out a dry chuckle as he ventured out on the ice. He seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. You skated around in circles waiting for Chris to join you when a thought popped into your head. You moved back so you were in front of Chris.

“So, what was the idea or the plan of taking me out here?”

“Plan?”

“Yeah? I mean you must’ve given this some thought. Maybe you thought about taking me bowling but then you ditched that idea and came up with going ice skating. Maybe you assumed or hoped that I wasn’t that good at it? And that I would probably need to lean on you for support or that we would have to hold hands so I wouldn’t fall flat on my ass in front of you. That way we would’ve established the psychical contact… Tell me that wasn’t something you thought of while planning this?”

Chris cringed hard inside for the second time. Was he really that transparent? Had he lost his game and had become this mediocre halfway loser with absolutely no game? His nervous smile gave him away instantly.

“Nooo? Of course not.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you got the worst poker face?”

Chris looked down feeling dumb. You weren’t mad or offended. You hadn’t meant to make him feel like you were calling him out. Even though that’s what you’d gone and done. Now it was your turn to cringe inside. The sound of whistling made him look up.

“Are you going to stay over there or are you going to join me out here? The water’s fine.”

Chris nervously laughed as he moved further out on the ice still a bit wobbly. Chris started regretting his decision as he watched you skate around gracefully while he felt like an elephant inside a porcelain shop.

“C’mon, Chris. I’m sorry if I was a little too harsh but- I think it’s a shame not to take advantage of being here.”

“No it’s not that… I guess, I over- and underestimated this situation both you and myself. I wanted to do something outside the box and in the haste of wanting to get this day right I forgot how bad I really am at ice skating. That was that brilliant yet stupid plan right out the window.”

You giggled softly at the still wobbly Chris and inched closer to him slowly.

“Okay, okay. Maybe your plan is still doable but maybe not in the way that you’d hoped for. Here, take my hand.”

Chris stilled and looked at you.

“What?”

“Hold my hand, Mr. Bold. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Chris reached out and grabbed your smaller hand in his larger one. You started to move bringing Chris with you. The two of you skated in circles in a slow but comfortable pace. Chris smiled widely feeling confident and went to release your hand only to start wobbling a bit again. You could see Chris face falter. He quickly wrapped his arm around your waist with his right hand and the left hand found your still extended hand. Soon he felt himself being steadied. He breathed out in relief. You titled your head and smirked. He was now holding one of your hands and the other arm was wrapped around your waist.

“Now that was real smooth.”

“What?”

You couldn’t decide if he was truly a bit thickheaded to see his move clearly or if he had in fact been on his way to fall flat on the ice. You decided that it didn’t matter. Being that close to Chris wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not even close. Your right hand moved so that it rested on top of the hand on your waist. You saw Chris smile briefly out of the corner of your eye. The two of you went a few rounds like that. It was no secret that both you and Chris enjoyed the closeness while skating. You tried calming yourself down knowing that this was only your second date and that you ought to chill out, like your friend Emmett would say. ‘Chill out girl, and relax.’

“So, tell me Miss ‘Harding’ did you ever do some professional skating or are you just this good all on your own?”

“I did very, very little when I was a kid but nothing worth writing about. But I guess I’ve just always enjoyed skating. I go a few times every year to keep on practicing. Lame I know.”

“Nothing about you is lame, Y/N.”

You shared a sideways smile as you picked up the pace skating in circular motions in the empty rink. Chris listened as you went on about things from your childhood and then asking him about his childhood. He told you about his siblings and the way that they were brought up. Just hearing about his family made you smile. It was clear to you that he came from a family filled with lots of love. His love for his mother shined through when he’d talked about her. You liked listening to Chris talking about everything and nothing. You enjoyed your conversations just as much as he liked them.

The two of you skated for some time. Truth be told, you’d lost track of time during the time you’d spent with him. You smiled at Chris who seemed to also enjoy himself on the ice. Chris started feeling a little more confident as he took the lead and picked up the pace. He even did a little cross with his feet. He looked very proud which only made him look all the more cute to you. He let go of your waist and readied himself for letting go completely. He gently let go of your hand and skated on his own. Chris flashed you a wide smile as he picked up the pace even further. A smirk even appeared on his face as gracefully skated past you in a circular move.

“Wow, look at you. Quick learner I see.”

“Yeah! Well, it’s like riding a bike I suppose. I guess, I was just a bit rusty-AHH!”

Just as he was showing off to you he lost his balance and fell right backwards. Your hands went up to cover your eyes as you saw the whole thing play out in slow motion. You heard a breathy groan which made you look at the scene before your eyes. Chris was lying on his back breathing hard as he raised his head to look at you. You went over to him and bent down to him.

“Chris! Oh my God. Are you okay?”

Chris didn’t answer you straight away and seemed to have trouble looking you in the eye. You instantly feared that he’d hit his head on the ice. You maneuvered so that you kneeled down on the ice and were leaning down to examine him closer.

“Hey look at me. How many fingers am I holding up? Do you know your name? Where you’re right now. Do you know who I am? Are you hurt anywhere-…?”

Your nervous rambling was caught off by Chris’ hoarse and breathy laugh.

“Depends. That was a whole lot of questions.”

You let out a breath of relief hearing him talk.

“My ego’s probably the most wounded…I had this horrible dream where I brought this great girl out here to impress her and only ended up botching this date because I got too cocky.”

You felt yourself smile at that. Chris leaned up on his elbows and pretended to look around as shock appeared on his face.

“OH no…It wasn’t a dream.”

He made a pouty face and looked down.

“Hey, you haven’t botched anything.”

“So, you don’t think I’m a transparent doofus?”

“Well, maybe you’re a little bit transparent but-…”

You sheepishly smiled at him as he let himself gently fall backwards on the ice with a groan.

“Just let me die here of humiliation and embarrassment.”

“God, you movie stars truly have a flair for the dramatics.”

Chris snorted at your comment but well knowing that you were absolutely right. You gently patted his arm making him look at you.

“C’mon, big guy. Up, up.”

You helped Chris upright with ease while still looking him over with worried eyes. He had just fallen quite hard.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yup, yup. I’m okay. Luckily my ass broke the fall.” “You want to go and sit down? Just for a while.” “Sure. Let’s do that.” The two of you slowly skated over to the latch door and Chris went out first. Chris sat down on one of the benches. You carefully went over and sat down next to him.

“So apart from falling flat on my ass in front of you just now, I hoped that you still liked it here.”

“I thought it was a great idea, Chris. Something outside the box.”

“Well, then I have a small plea for you. Or more of a question.”

You nodded your head at him.

“Could we pretend that this was our first date considering that our first was a bust? Clean slate and everything. Although I didn’t make a fool out of myself that other day so maybe it was a bad idea to even-…”

“Chris, it’s cool. This is officially our first date then.”

Chris gave you a grin thankful that you were on. This date had to be great. He wanted everything right to go right.

“Hey, what do you say we get out of here? Unless you want to go back on the ice. I mean we can go if you want to. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“It’s all good, Chris. I think you’ve had enough ice time for now.”

The two of you took of your skates and went to clerk where you handed them in. Sal came over and quietly shook hands with Chris.

“I hope you kids had fun. It looked like it. I must say that you miss, looked like you knew exactly what you were doing. Say, have you ever done some competitively skating?”

“I did very little when I was a kid but nothing big.”

“You looked like you belonged on the ice. I think Mr. Evans would agree with me.”

Chris only nodded in awe which you felt was totally misguided. Your cheeks felt warm as you felt the two men staring at you. Chris shook hands with Sal while you were putting on your gloves.

“Thanks a lot for today, Sal. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You were getting ready to exit when Chris excused himself to go to the bathroom. You leaned against the counter as you waited. Sal remained behind the counter as he arranged some papers or so.

“So tell me Sal, did you really let him rent an entire hall because he’s famous or?”

“Tell you what, I’ve known him for some time and I would’ve probably let him anyway. That guy’s a good young man. He’s decent that’s for sure.”

“So, he’s brought other girls here too or what do you mean, Sal?”

“Naah, I’ve only ever seen him here with his family. He’s a family man no doubt.”

Sal winked at you and went to answer his phone ringing in his pocket.

Chris came jogging over to you and gestured for you two to walk outside again. As you reached his car, you gave Chris a questionable look.

“Are you sure that you’re okay to drive? You did fall pretty hard…”

“Yeah, I’m fine but if it makes you feel better then-… Here.”

Chris tossed you his car keys. You let out a small gasp.

“Wait- you would let me drive your car just like that?”

“Sure. Unless you would rather not to-…”

“Nooo, it’s all good.”

You grinned and practically jumped over to the driver’s side. Chris chuckled at your enthusiastic laugh and got in the passenger’s seat. You buckled in and started the car. It was defiantly something else than your own. Chris typed in the new address for your next destination. Then you were off to God knows where. Still you’d never felt more safe with Chris by your side.

The drive was about 30 minutes or so, Chris pointed to an exit where the two of you switched places.

“I wanted to keep going with the element of surprise.”

You didn’t mind and Chris seemed very okay to drive. Although he only drove for about maximum of 5 minutes before he’d parked by what looked like field. Chris had beaten you to open your door, he gently grabbed one of your hands and led you closer to wherever you were going.

“Close your eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly but did as he’d asked.

“Tell me what you smell now.”

“Smell, what do you mean?”

“Just go with me on this. Try to take a deep whiff.”

Again, you did as he told. Inhaling, you could suddenly smell all kinds of smells. Confused, you found yourself inhaling like an asthmatic snail.

“Okay maybe I’m way off here, but I smell cotton candy and popcorn but aren’t we out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Well, yes and no. You’re in fact right, cos if you open your eyes you’ll find out just where we’re right now.”

Slowly you opened your eyes and discovered that you were now standing at by the entrance of a funfair or something that looked like a Carnival. You couldn’t hide your shocked state nor excitement.  You were definitely liking where this was going. Chris beamed as he watched your happy face as it lit up.

Tag list: 

@patzammit

@Chris-butt

@castellandiangelo

@harrysthiccthighss

@tantricevans

@katiew1973

@denisemarieangelina

@pinkdiamond1016

@missswriter

@arabescapr

@liquorlaughslove

@chaneajoyyy

@sunflowercaptain

@ la-cey 

@adoreyou976

@geminievans1

Tag list for Falling, Fallen series: 

@commanderrykov

@ thatoneperson5000

@hockeychick10

[charming-charlie]

Tornado Warning

Title // Tornado Warning

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Panic attacks, I guess? Also fear of tornados. This is a clean, wholesome little story.

Summary // There is a tornado warning and you are freaking out. Guess who you call for comfort.

Word Count // 1.5k

Marshmallows, check. Rice Crispy cereal. Check. Stove ready. Check.

Your head went back and forth from the television to the spread of food on the kitchen counter. You were not much of a cook but decided to try your hand at something simple. Rice crispy treats were about as simple as it could get. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize just how messy such a simple treat would be to prepare.

You were watching a cooking show and following along, taking breaks during the commercials to assess your job so far. You used far more mixing bowls than you needed, bought three bags of marshmallows, and broke one wooden spoon. This was not turning out as well as you thought it would.

Suddenly, a loud noise. It was a shrill, piercing alarm. You jumped and the spoon you were using clattered to the floor. The noise was coming from the TV, interrupting the cooking show.

You walked over to the TV and stared at the words as they flashed across the screen. There was a tornado warning in effect. You felt the bile in your stomach rumble, threatening to come up. Your heart raced at the white words against the red banner, flashing brightly enough that it made your eyes hurt. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Panic rose inside and you abandoned your mess in the kitchen. Immediately, you started searching for your phone. Your hand patted every surface until you found it, hidden under a bag of unopened marshmallows. Your hands were shaking so bad as you tried to pull up his number. He was one the recent contacts you sent messages to, so he was easy to spot since he was near the top.

If it wasn’t for Evan Buckley, you wouldn’t even be in Los Angeles. He was one of your longest and bestest friends. The two of you went to college together and met through a couple of classes before taking separate career paths. However, that didn’t mean the two of you lost touch. It was the opposite, really.

And it helped that he was a first responder. He could calm your ass down in a heartbeat.

You texted him quickly, fumbling over the letters. In the end, you sent him a message that said town ado each goons crazy thanks to the beauty of autocorrect. Buck replied with a lovely wtf are you talking about before he decided to call you.

The phone buzzed in your hand, scaring you out of your mind. It took several seconds for you to calm down enough to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you asked in a whisper. You felt if you talked louder than that, the words wouldn’t make sense, like autocorrect of the brain or something.

“Are you having a stroke? Do I need to send Chim and Hen over to check on you?” Buck’s voice was light and sweet in your ear. How was he not freaking out about the impending tornado that might rip through the town and kill everything in sight?

It just then occurred to you that, again, he is a first responder and he’s seen worse things. Like that giant tidal wave, for instance. A tornado warning might actually be nothing to him.

“That’s not funny, I’m going to die.” You turned off the TV, no longer wanting to hear the shrill alarm playing in the background. What did people do in tornado warnings? Seek shelter or something, right? Kind of hard to do from the fourth floor. Does your building have a basement? What is the protocol here?

“Calm down, you are not going to die,” Buck said. You could tell he was trying not to laugh but you didn’t find any of it funny. If he wasn’t worth the phone call, you would’ve hung up on him, but you needed his voice as a source of comfort.

“How do you know? Are you a weatherman?” you shot back suddenly as you looked outside. The streets seemed quiet. No one was running around or looting for supplies. Maybe that was a good sign.

You heard him chuckle on the other end, and you heard the phone shuffling around before his voice came back as clear as day. “No, but I see emergencies all the time. Trust me, you’re fine.”

Trust him? Trust him? He didn’t know how the weather worked. A tornado can crash through at any given moment. He would be the one to fish your body out from the rubble, and here he is saying you are fine?

“Okay but this is a tornado warning, not a watch. There is a huge difference here,” you tried to argue for whatever reason. You didn’t want to be in the wrong and you felt your fears were justified. They were, right?

Buck sighed, and you could practically see his face right now. Sometimes you had to wonder how he put up with your ass.

“Look,” he said as reassuringly as possible, “I’m gonna come over. You’ll see there is nothing to worry about.”

“You are not driving through this weather.”

“What weather? It’s in the eighties and it’s sunny. Shut up, I’m coming over.”

He hung up on you without saying goodbye and you stared at your phone in frustration. That man certainly knew how to work your nerves, sometimes for the good, but right now, you were worried about your life and his. He would be solely responsible if you died of a heart attack right now. Should you pen a note in case you do?

You know what? That’s a good idea.

In the time that it took you to find some paper, a pen, think about what you wanted to say, and write it down, there was a knock on the door. Either he was in the area or he did a little bit of speeding because he arrived a lot quicker than you predicted.

You walked over to the door and opened it, revealing his sweet yet sassy smile. You rolled your eyes and shut the door on him, but he put a foot out and stopped you.

“Come on Y/N, don’t be like that.” He walked in and his eyes fell onto your kitchen. The sass moved from his smile to his face. “Looks like the tornado already stopped by. I’m so glad you made it out alive.”

You pushed him, but that didn’t faze him. Curse those stupid muscles and the in-shape body he has.

He walked into the kitchen and, having eyes like a hawk, he spotted the note you wrote earlier. He held it up and read it and ended up laughing as he looked over at you. You could see your messy handwriting on the white paper, smudged a bit from being around the kitchen.

“You look good for a dead person,” Buck said as he placed the note back on the kitchen counter.

“Shut up, I’m really scared here,” you said softly.

He saw your face and instantly, his face melted into concern. Sure, he may have just been playing around but now that he saw how serious you were and how scared you actually turned out to be, it wasn’t all fun and games anymore.

He made his way toward you and reached for your hand. You surrendered it slowly as he gripped your fingers within his. “I’m sorry. You are really freaked out, aren’t you?”

He pulled you in and hugged you. Suddenly, you felt a thousand times better. This was all you really needed, a stable and solid hug. Just the feeling of being protected was enough because now, the thought of a tornado warning was so far away from your mind, it no longer seemed to matter or seemed at all important.

“Okay so we will get through this together. This is nothing, I’ve been through a lot of tornado warnings before. You could not be in safer hands,” Buck said gently.

His tone was relaxing. He led you over to the couch and the two of you sat down. Just for good measure, he kept an arm around you and held you close. You really liked the feeling of being pressed against him, especially turning times of terror, but you would never let him know that. People like you don’t really go out with people like him. It was best to keep your mouth shut.

And that was okay. You didn’t mind liking him from afar. At least, for now.

He held you and you gripped his shirt tightly, feeling that slight panicky feeling rise back up. Only this time, you were not afraid of the tornado warning. You were afraid of this moment ending when the world went back to normal.

There wasn’t much you could do. All good things must come to an end. For now, you just needed to sit back and enjoy being in the arms of a man you cannot have. No matter how much it hurt you inside.

Hopefully the tornado warning lasts as long as possible, perhaps even days, if it meant being comforted by him.

You could only hope.

[myelocin]

The Gratitude in Endings | Miya Atsumu, You, Kuroo Tetsurou

Synopsis: What follows endings always were the most beautiful things. In this case, after Kuroo Tetsurou, came Miya Atsumu--and for you, nothing could truly be better. 

**This is the epilogue to Redefining You (Part 1) and  To Us, A Love Story Unwritten (Part 2)! 

Characters: Miya Atsumu, You Kuroo Tetsurou

Genre/Tags/Warnings: No warnings! Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Bestfriend!Kuroo, Reader/Atsumu, Kinda a love triangle i guess lol

WC: 2.8k+

a/n: i,,,, have not let go of this AU and will probably not let go until a long time. i’m planning on writing drabbles in this certain AU soon, but for now enjoy this epilogue!

-

You suppose happy endings is the sort of cliché you’ve been wanting to avoid this whole time. After all, you’re still only in your late twenties and even if you’ve crossed some things off of your bucket list—there were still pages you’ve yet to even flip through.

Life, to you, is a constant work in progress; all you’ve known were only beginnings but the reality is there is still never an end. From the second you opened your eyes and sucked in your first breath of air, day by day you continue to leave a mark in the world.

The stories you’ve scribbled in paper, the secrets you’ve whispered to willing ears, photographs of your claim in that snapshot of the world, and the connections you’ve made—those are the things that last and remain even after you’ve gone to cross new horizons.

Life—much like yourself will always just be a work in progress.

Whether it be the ink on your skin that’s yet to be connected to another work of art or waking up to a new morning wondering how differently Atsumu’s hair will look curled around your fingers this time.

Every day that you spent watching the sun rising and setting in his eyes never failed to leave you breathless.

-

It shouldn’t have surprised you when Atsumu adjusted himself with the beat of your life quite naturally. After reconnecting in the airport, Tetsurou didn’t even have to sit you down to talk to you about his reappearance in your life.

Literally, after Bokuto landed, he left the airport that day without you and texted you that this was your chance to go home with, as Tetsurou said in verbatim, your “long lost love.”

According to him, after showing up in your weekly dinners at Kenma with Atsumu trailing behind you—that it was all part of his plan for he was the best wing man you could ever ask for.

After that self-proclamation, you and Kenma responded to his statement by simultaneously rolling your eyes. Atsumu, beside you, was apparently polite enough to laugh. Tetsurou was quick to stride over to him, clap him on the back of the shoulder and declare, “You both suck, but at least Miya-san has enough taste to recognize my genius work.”

“Please,” Atsumu laughed and clapped Tetsurou on the shoulder, “Atsumu is just fine.” From your place in the table, you smiled at Atsumu beaming up at Tetsurou, with your best friend returning the same energy.

“I think they’ll get along.” Kenma says and you smile, feeling your heart swell.

“They will,” you reply, and in return Kenma smiles because the both of you truly believe your words.

-

There were still moments you see Tetsurou break down. Eventually the ink climbs up higher and higher on his shoulders until you eventually see it peeking above the collar of his shirts. You have half the mind to ask, but at the same time, when Atsumu drapes his hands over your shoulders and you spot Tetsurou look away and bark out another joke—you decide against it.

“Are you happy?” Tetsurou asked you one day and you could almost laugh at how ironic the setting was. The two of you, along with Kenma had gone with Atsumu and the rest of MSBY in their team trip to a lake house ways from the city.

He asked that question when you joined him on the balcony one morning, a mug of coffee outstretched in offering to him. If it wasn’t for the morning fog clouding your hazy thoughts, you figured you would have caught on a lot quicker than you did—but at the moment, all you could think about was how warm Atsumu’s jacket was wrapped around you and how the roots of his natural hair were starting to peek through from what you observed earlier that morning.

Tetsurou smiled a thank you at the mug of coffee you offered him and motioned for you to take a seat next to him. He doesn’t ask the question again, but you spend the next few minutes of silence mulling about how the morning air brought bouts of nostalgia.

“I’m really happy, Tetsu.” You say and look at him, and you suddenly feel a little choked up. You blame the cold air for the blur in your eyes because when he smiles and wraps the blanket around him tighter while taking slow sips of his coffee you suddenly remember the moment you fell in love with him all those years ago.

In the solitude of the early hours, you’re brought back to the world from more than ten years ago and see the boy who spent his mornings with you through the pixilation of a computer screen. Your heart still beats with a fondness only attributed for him, but you suppose even the rhythm doesn’t flow the same way—you still love him.

And when he opens his eyes, red and teary and cheeks flushed, the fondness in his voice is as familiar as it had always been, “I’m glad, (y/n).”

You sniffle because even if you only exchanged the minimal words, you know the both of you understood everything lingering in the unspoken.

“Are you happy though?” you ask and knock your shoulder against his.

“I am, for you, I always am happy.” He says and laughs when you smack his shoulder a little harder this time in retort. “I meant you, dumbass. Are you happy?”

He laughs, sniffling and turning away from you.

“I love you.” He says, and before you could voice out your confusion he turns to you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “I began to tell myself that every day.”

You roll your eyes remembering your words from the balcony that one night. “Oh god, don’t just quote me.”

“I mean it!” he says and laughs along with you.

You think the two of you must look a little silly, crying at seven in the morning and laughing over your heartaches you endured some years ago, but your relationship with Tetsurou ran deeper than the norm, so you guess you don’t mind.

“Tetsu, I really want you to be happy.” You finally say, and you hope the softness in your tone reaches him.

Tetsurou looks at you in the way that’s sincere because he sighs into the air with a smile and wraps a hand around your shoulder—pulling you in for a half hug. You set your mug down to the side and wrap your own arms around his frame, burying your face in his chest.

He feels warm and you don’t come to mind his chin resting on top of your head.

“Happiness is a work in progress, I’ll get there in time. But I’m always facing to walk in that direction.”

“Promise?” you ask, and he pulls from you to look you straight in the eye.

Though before he opened his mouth to reply, the finality in his eyes quelled your worries.

He didn’t need to say promise because you were more than sure he was going to get there.

-

Miya Atsumu was someone who came into your life in a whirlwind of all the things you considered to be the most beautiful.

He’s a human being; far from perfection just as you were, but then again, the word perfection had always been subjective. Not a day passed by where you didn’t tell him thank you for always being patient. He dealt with his demons just as you had but like the certainty of those very demons coming and going in your life, the grip in his hand holding yours was just as steadfast and un moving.

Atsumu would be the one to tell you to bite your hand and push through it when you had no other option but walk through hell itself, but also in contrast, he would be the one to lay with you in the silence and rub circles on your back telling you to cry out whatever was hurting you.

He’d crack a couple jokes in between your sobs, and kiss your eyelids despite you telling him no and that your tears will taste gross.

You, on the other hand was always the one he came home to and your arms being opened was a constant whether he celebrated a victory or a loss.

Whether he’d cry because his service ace was the winning point, or cry because he felt second best, time and time again Atsumu would tell you his thank you for the presence through it all.

And when he tells you an I love you every day with the sun rising and setting as the witness, you know he means it just as he knows the sincerity he’s always found the comfort in with yours.

“Are you happy?” he asked you on your third year together and you could almost laugh at the parallels you’re begging to see with the conversation you had with Tetsurou some time ago.

“Really happy.” You reply and lace your fingers through his.

“With me?” he asks and smiles when you swing your joined hands back and forth. “With us.” You reply and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

Atsumu laughs and tugs you to walk with him ankle deep in the water. “This kinda feels familiar,” he comments and you laugh because it does. You mean it’s familiar because déjà vu is nudging at you and also because the both of you had found yourselves in a quiet stretch of beach along the coasts of Okinawa.

It wasn’t Siargao in the Philippines this time, and you could understand the distant chatter of Japanese in the background opposed to the dialect spoken in the Philippines those years ago, but it was the light of the setting sun peaking in Atsumu’s eyes that had you grinning ear to ear because this was your favorite part of the day.

When the both of you are a little over ankle deep in the water Atsumu releases your hand and points to the horizon on the western side of the world.

You turn and smile because he’s pointing to the sunset. Closing your eyes you, breathe in and breathe out—then smile because it wasn’t shaky. Briefly, you think of Tetsurou and what he could be doing this time in Tokyo—and smile again because he’s probably over at Kenma’s for movie night yelling into a TV and chucking popcorn in the air. You think about the new dating app he downloaded on his phone that he showed you the other day and chuckle to yourself in a way that had you feeling giddy. He was putting himself back out there and for that, you were always happy for him.

And so when you open your eyes and look at the western horizon, you shift your body to turn to Atsumu; you prefer looking at the setting sun’s painting from his eyes, anyway.

But you stop in your tracks because he’s grinning at you and then biting his lip in nervousness. You laugh, automatically choked up because he’s down on one knee with a ring in his hand.

“(Y/n),” he begins, but you don’t let him finish because as you’re staring into his eyes and see the sparks of orange and red reflected you’re suddenly throwing your arms on his shoulder and kneeling down with him.

“W-wait!” he protests, but laughs along with you, “—for god’s sake let me propose properly.”

You continue to laugh, even as you feel streams of tears rolling down your cheeks. Pulling away from him you grab his face in between your hands and wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, but you know it’s not much of a question because he doesn’t wait for you to answer since he’s kissing the palm of your hand and sliding the ring on your finger before you open your mouth to speak.

“I had a whole speech prepared,” Atsumu whines, sniffling when you laugh at him and hold his face in between your hands again.

You could cry because it truly does feel like déjà vu, because the sunset reflected in his eyes look just like that very sunset you could still remember on that day you fell in love with him all those years ago.

The water in Okinawa is not as warm as the water in the Philippines, and the water soaking your dress is a little uncomfortable like the sand digging in your knees, but with Atsumu being in front of you crying along to the comments you’re sharing back and forth with him—you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

“You know if I closed my eyes and this playlist wasn’t shitty, I could just pretend this our wedding.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a comment and let out a laugh instead. “Atsumu was in charge of the playlist. I told him to make the vibe uniform but he probably ignored everything after Atsumu make the playlist.”

Tetsurou snickers and squeezes your hand in his, while the other that’s resting on the back of your waist pulls you along to the sway of the music. You smile and lightly knock his chest with your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“Don’t tell him I’m trashing your wedding music.”

“He’ll laugh along with you,” you reply softly.

“Oi, Tetsurou!” Atsumu calls from the background; the two of you turn to face him, you greeting him with a slight wave and a wink while Tetsurou opts to shoot him a thumbs up and a smile.

“Stop tryin’ to steal my wife.”

Tetsurou laughs at your husband’s halfhearted warning, “She’s not really my type!”

“Damn straight.” Atsumu laughs, then turns towards the conversation he was having with Osamu.

“Why did it feel like my husband is trying to devalue me?” You snort and Tetsurou laughs because he knows you’re only joking.

“He trusts you and knows he can’t get rid of me that’s why.”

“Fair point,” you smile, agreeing.

“Hey Tetsu,” you say slowly, looking at him. He hums in response and looks at you with a smile mirroring your own.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t ask you what you mean by the thank you and you smile in appreciation because you know the message was delivered without a hitch. So the two of you continue to dance in circles, with Tetsurou snorting every time the music in Atsumu’s playlist got progressively more “country” as he dubbed it.

“We should write a book about this someday.” You quip and he nods, “Hell yeah, as long as I’m written as a super buff guy.”

Thank you for being my first love.

“I mean sure,” you reply, “but when Atsumu comes into the story he’s obviously more buff. It’s just canon like that.” Tetsurou huffs, turning his head away in exaggeration.

Thank you for breaking my heart but still leaving breakfast for me that morning.

“My character needs to have some really cool quotes though,” Tetsurou negotiates and you laugh out a sure, what do you got, before he replies, “If your goals don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.” You throw your head back and laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense, but sure, we can work that in.”

Thank you for being my best friend above everything that’s happened. Thank you for accepting Atsumu.

“Wait I have another quote,” he offers and you nod for him to continue. Tetsurou smiles at you, his eyes dazzling under the night sky’s stars and the venue’s fairy lights. “He loved her enough to let her go.”

You fall silent and the urge to suddenly cry hits you. Tetsurou smiles and spins you around until you’re face to face with Atsumu, who’s staring at you with a knowing and gentle smile from across the room.

You turn to face him and the tears well up even more at the feeling of déjà vu gnawing at your chest. It doesn’t hurt in a bad way because you know the both of you are heading in the right direction this time. Tetsurou smiles and tells you, “Love you, dumbass.” before you feel Atsumu’s hand take yours.

“I’m proud of the both of you.” Atsumu whispers, kissing the corner of your temple.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the protective husband?” you laugh.

“I know he’s a special person in your life, and I’m thankful for him everyday too because him being dumb enough not to love you led to us.” Atsumu replies, laughing along with you.

“Tsumu!”

“Kiddin.”

Resting your cheek on Atsumu’s shoulder, the two of you continue to move in slower circles. You meet Tetsurou’s gaze from your spot in the room and smile when he flashes you a thumbs up.

Thank you, Tetsurou thinks when he feels déjà vu nudging his heart. The dull of his heart thrumming doesn’t ache this time so he smiles towards you again and thinks of the baby’s breath tattoo he got the night inked on the left side of his chest.

When you turn and Atsumu meets his gaze, he gives the blonde a solid nod and another thumbs up.

Thank you for letting me love and let you go, (y/n).

 -