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ahatintimestorybook · 2 years

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Hopes and Friendships Chap. 19-Backstory

Hey guys…

We're gonna get into some deep lore on Vanessa and Luka’s lives before Harriet was born! I was excited to get to this chapter as this was one of my early ideas for this fanfic.

Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to @gigilefache for being my beta reader!

This chapter is dedicated to my grandma, she passed away while I was working on this fanfic.

~~~~~~~~

About 18 years ago, a 14-year-old Luka Kidd decided to catch up on some reading. It was the beginning of Summer and after a beautifully bright day at the beach with family and friends, it was time to relax and read. He went to his favorite place in town, a place far away from everything.

Luka sat down underneath the tree and turned to the page where he left off in his book. The novel he was reading was about two people who were destined to be together due to a moon necklace, and are traveling around the world to find them. It was a cheesy story, but the whole story of fate spoke out to him.

He was about to start the next chapter of the story when he heard a loud splash coming from the river. He looked up from his book and saw a young girl face-flat in the river. He quickly bookmarked his novel and ran towards the girl,helped her up.

“Are you okay?” Luka asked.

The girl coughed up water and once she felt better she looked up at the boy. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” She replied. Upon looking at him, the girl blushed. Luka also blushed. She wore a unique outfit that consisted of a green vest over a white shirt, green and white striped puffy shorts, long white stockings, and green mary jane shoes. Her hair was blonde and tied into pigtails and she wore a pair of glasses over her crystal blue eyes.

“T-That’s good,” Luka stuttered. The two turned away from each other as the blush on their face turned brighter, almost the same color as a tomato. The two took another glance at one another and Luka was the first to break the silence. “I’m…Luka.”

“My name's Vanessa.” The girl replied.

Luka smiled and turned to look at her. “Lovely name.”

Vanessa blushed and smiled. “Thank you,” she replied. Luka held his hand out, and Vanessa grabbed it as they got out of the lake together. “Aww man.” She then saw her clothes became soggy and wet from landing in the lake. “My mother will not be happy about this.”

“Well, if you want you can come over to my house and dry. I’m sure my mom has some spare clothes you could wear.” Luka explained.

“Oh, are you sure?” Vanessa asked. “I mean I could just go home and-” Luka took Vanessa’s hand, which cut her off.

“Positive!” Luka replied. Vanessa looked at Luka before turning away. She could go home and get dry, but something in her mind told her to follow this young boy instead. With a smile she nodded which made Luka smile back. “Alright! Come on, my house isn’t too far.” He said. Grabbing his book he and Vanessa started to make their way to his house.

As they walked Vanessa frowned, her mind was processing so many things at once. It feels wrong going with a stranger, but also it feels right and…safe.

The Kidd family house was a simple two-story house. Inside, Luka’s mom Autumn was just getting dinner started for her son and husband. Her appearance looked exactly like her granddaughter Harriet only with golden eyes and she wore a long red house dress and a pair of white slippers. While she put the stove on low heat the door opened. “I’m home!” Luka yelled. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought home a guest.”

“Oh, welcome home Luka!” Autumn beamed. She came out from the kitchen and was in shock seeing Vanessa soaked and her son’s pants wet. “What happened to you two?” She asked.

“Vanessa fell into the water. I figured having her stay here before going back home.” Luka explained.

Vanessa was quiet as she looked at Autumn checking her out. She trembled a bit as Autumn stared at her. Vanessa waited for a yell, but what came next surprised her. “Well, I have some clothes Vanessa can borrow. Luka, be a dear and keep an eye on dinner while I get our guest ready.” Autumn explained.

Luka nodded. “Yes, mom!” He beamed. Luka went to the kitchen to do as he was told.Vanessa looked back at her friend.

“Come on Vanessa, my room is upstairs.” Autumn said. Vanessa nodded and followed the older woman up to her room. As she went up the stairs she saw Luka's life growing up on the walls, his rewards from school, and him bonding with his family. Once upstairs Autumn went to the room on the right and opened the door and went in.

Vanessa went in right after and saw Autumn lay out a towel on the bed for her to sit on. She did and saw Autumn taking clothes out that Vanessa would like. “So Vanessa, which side of town are you from?” Autumn asked.

Vanessa’s eyes widened; she had never been to Subcon before and didn’t know the routes of the town or where to go. “Uh… the North side of town.” She lied.

“Ah, so Alpine Town.” Autumn answered.

“Yeah!” Vanessa replied, giving a nervous laugh, that laugh made Autumn worry. Something about that laugh made her think there was more about this girl that they don’t even know yet. Vanessa was confused seeing Autumn was quiet and just stayed silent.

Autumn found enough clothes for Vanessa to go through and pick a few. “Well, I think these clothes would fit you. Pick whatever you like and meet us down for dinner.” She said as she went down. “Just yell if you need me.”

Vanessa nodded and looked through the clothes and picked two that she thought were perfect. A mint green blouse with brown spots and a white collar and a white skirt. Quickly she looked around to see if no one was coming back in and closed the door, locking it to be safe.

Grabbing her wand, Vanessa started to mumble the words to a spell and the clothes she picked magically went on her body, replacing her old witch clothes. She then unlocked the door and Vanessa went downstairs to see Luka was setting the table.

Luka blushed harder than he did when he first met her, almost dropping a plate in the process. Vanessa froze and looked at her clothes and got nervous. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

“Y-yeah. Stunning even!” Luka replied.

Vanessa smiled, giggling. “Thank you!” She beamed.

Luka smiled back. “Wanna help set up the table?” He asked. Vanessa nodded and Luka handed her a plate to put on the table. Once the two got the table set up, Autumn placed the food on the table and now they had to wait for Luka’s father to come home.

It wasn’t long, before Luka’s father Dolan showed up. The man looked exactly like Luka except for being a bit bigger and having a beard. Autumn smiled and hugged her husband and kissed him. “How was work, honey?” Autumn asked.

“Busy, as usual.” Dolan replied as he kissed his wife in reply. He then noticed Vanessa and smiled. “So Luka, is this your girlfriend?” He asked.

Vanessa and Luka blushed a bright red as they looked at each other shocked that they were dating. “N-no dad! She’s a friend, just a friend!” Luka reassured his father. He looked at Vanessa, who looked back at him nervously. “Her name is Vanessa. She fell in the lake and I took her back here.” He explained.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Vanessa said being polite to the people that are letting her stay here and have dinner with them.

Dolan looked at the girl and smiled. “Such a sweetheart.” He chuckled. Vanessa smiled, feeling at ease with Luka’s family. “So what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Well since it’s Luka’s first summer I figured I’d cook some favorites; Alfredo pasta and chicken soup!” Autumn announced. Luka smiled and pulled up a chair for Vanessa. The latter smiled and sat down as Luka pushed her chair in. Luka sat next to her and set up her plate before handing it to her.

Vanessa stared at her plate and saw the rest of Luka’s family serving themselves before starting to eat. Vanessa smiled and tried a bit of the soup, which made her eyes widen. The soup was warm and homey. She kept eating the soup and let out a sigh at how good it was.

“I see you're enjoying it.” Luka said.

“It’s really good!” Vanessa replied. She continued eating her soup before finishing it and started to eat the pasta. The pasta tasted even better than the soup. While eating Vanessa saw Luka and his family having a conversation while they ate as they laughed and reacted over their day.

The environment felt different than what Vanessa was used to at home. Usually, dinners were quiet unless something “interesting” by her mom’s standards was part of the conversation.

“Vanessa? Vanessa!” Luka called out.

“Huh?” Vanessa asked.

“You were spacing out.” Luka said. “I was asking what fun stuff are you into?” He asked.

“Oh!” Vanessa replied. “Well, my interests are a lot different from most others.” She explained. “But…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of how to explain her witch life to this family. “I like fantasy stuff and I’m good at school, though my mom has high expectations of me.” She explained.

Dolan chuckled. “So just like our boy here!” He beamed pointing at Luka.

“Dad.” Luka groaned.

“Come on son, you know I’m teasing!” Dolan replied. Luka rolled his eyes in reply and continued to eat.

Vanessa let out a giggle and continued to eat her pasta. Luka smiled, and continued to say “So you said you like fantasy stuff, correct?” He asked. Vanessa nodded. “Well, I have tons of fantasy books and movies we can look through after dinner.”

“Okay!” Vanessa replied with a smile.

Once dinner was done Luka helped his mother with the dishes as Vanessa helped dry the dishes and Dolan put the dishes away. Once the dishes were put away, Luka took Vanessa to his room and showed her his collection of fantasy novels. “These are all your books?” Vanessa asked.

“Yep! It’s nerdy I know.” Luka replied.

“I don’t think it’s nerdy.” Vanessa said. “I think it’s interesting.”

Luka smiled. He was quiet and closed the door once he saw it was safe. Luka decided to drop a bomb on Vanessa. “So…you a witch?” He asked.

Vanessa froze as she quickly covered Luka’s mouth. She looked at Luka’s door before turning to her new friend. “How did you know?” She asked.

“Well let’s see; you appeared out of nowhere, you're secretive about where you live and your life, and you like fantasy.” Luka explained, listing everything down.

“W-well anyone could like fantasy stuff, and maybe I don’t wanna talk about where I live.” Vanessa replied, giving a nervous chuckle.

“Plus your outfit gave it away.” Luka added, not convinced by Vanessa’s lie.

Vanessa stopped chuckling before giving up. “Fine, I’m a witch.” She revealed. Vanessa then turned away, not wanting to look at Luka. “But it’s not like the fantasy stories you read. I have it rough.”

“All fantasy characters go through a rough story.” Luka replied.

“I bet these characters don’t have their mothers trying to make them perfect, or controlling them to a path they don’t want, or…hurt them.” Vanessa explained, tears falling from her eyes. She tried her best to hold it in, remembering her mother’s words that there was nothing to cry about. She took deep breaths to hold the tears back.

Vanessa’s eyes then widened when she felt Luka hug her from behind. “You can let it out.” He whispered. Vanessa kept holding it in, but soon she let it all out sobbing out all the pain she was going through. Luka frowned, feeling bad about what Vanessa was going through.

Luka then heard the door open and saw his mother come in. “Vanessa, do you need anything? Oh!” Autumn was in shock seeing Vanessa crying in her son’s arms. Autumn looked up at her son and mouthed what happened.

“I’ll tell you later.” Luka whispered. Autumn nodded and left the two alone.

It took a while, but Vanessa started to calm down. Luka took the time to give his new friend a box of tissues to wipe her tears away. “Thank you.” Vanessa whispered.

“Anytime.” Luka replied. He waited for the young witch to calm down before talking to her more. “So why did you come here?”

Vanessa sniffled as she wiped away the last of the tears from her eyes. “I always wanted to visit Earth. I heard many things about it.” She started. “But I also wanted to escape my life in Speranza, that’s the Witch World by the way.”

“What’s it like?” Luka asked.

“The usual witch world in stories. Magic creatures, witches and wizards, potions the whole shebang!” Vanessa explained. Luka giggled, which made Vanessa smile. “But, my mom expects a lot of me, I’m this perfect witch and I’m overwhelmed with everything!” She explained.

Luka sighed and put his arm around Vanessa. “You know, I can let you live here on Earth? My folks will understand.” He said.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Really?” She’s asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. I mean I can explain your living situation except skip the whole witch and magical world lore, and they’ll be sure to understand.” Luka explained.

Vanessa smiled and hugged Luka again, this time tighter. “Thank you, Luka.” She said, “Thank you, Thank you!”

Luka blushed and chuckled, hugging his friend back. “Anytime Vanessa.” He said. The two let go, and Luka got up to go to his parents' room and explained to them the tough situation Vanessa was in. His parents were in shock over Vanessa’s living situation, however, as much as they wanted her to be out of the living situation she was in there wasn’t any room for her to live here for a while.

“I’m sorry Luka.” Dolan said.

Luka sighed, but he wasn’t willing to give up yet. “Is there anyone you guys know that can take her in?” He asked.

Dolan and Autumn looked at one another and went through their friend list on who can take in a young girl. It was Autumn who knew where Vanessa could go. “Well, I know one person, Mrs. Florabrite, and her daughter. They could help bring her in.” She explained.

“Really?” Luka asked.

“Sure! I’ll call them right now, and let you and Vanessa know.” Autumn said. She then walked over to the phone and started to dial Mrs. Florabrite’s number. Luka sat there nervously as his mom was on the phone talking with her friend. The second Luka saw a smile on his mother’s face knew that the news was good. “Got good news! She said yes!”

Luka smiled. “I’ll tell Vanessa the news!” He beamed. Luka ran back to his room, which made Vanessa look at him in worry. “Well good news and bad news. The bad news is you can’t live with us.” Vanessa sighed, but quickly Luka announced the good news. “Good news! My folks found you a place to stay!”

“Really? Where?” Vanessa asked.

“It’s a friend of my mom’s!” Luka replied.

Vanessa sighed. The feeling of being trapped by her mother slowly started to disappear. She no longer had to deal with her mother pressuring her. She collapsed on Luka’s bed as Luka crawled into bed and lay down with her.

“I’m free.” Vanessa said.

“Yeah.” Luka replied.

“Now what?”

“Well, don’t worry about that. I’ll be there to help guide you around the human world.” Luka explained. Vanessa smiled and hugged Luka once more.

Just like that, Vanessa was able to learn a lot about the human world. From the culture to the food, and history. Luka stood by her when she started her first day at a human school and taught her what she needed to know. She was so intrigued by history and science.

As Vanessa and Luka got older, they got closer and closer to the point they started to date. After a couple of years of dating, Luka decided to propose to her, and not long after they married and had a beautiful daughter, Harriet Puella Kidd.

Their life was perfect…

It was sad that it ended so soon.

#ahit au #ahit fanfic #Hopes and Friendships #Hopes and Friendships AU #Witch Mu AU #ahit the prince #queen vanessa #ahit OC

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paradoxrealm · 4 months

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A Return Worth Waiting For...~

The Charm was stone cold when Moon picked it up, the only change being a slightly brighter glow to it when he made contact with it. It seems safe for him to touch at least. Astel slowly moved her hands away from her chest to get a look at them, wincing at the pain and how ugly the burns looked. They were pretty gnarly to say the least... It really did look as though her hands got wrapped in hot razor wire...

She eyed the gel with slight suspicion, still not liking the whole vibe that hung heavy in the air. She wanted to trust him... She really did... But everything here just felt... wrong... All of it felt so very wrong...

"...What's wrong, 'stel? ...Why not let him help patch us up?"

"...It's not that I won't let him, Midnight... It's just... ...I want to trust him, Midnight... ...I really do... ...But I'm having a hard time with it because of how the Reality Check changed him... ...He's still treating us like prey... ...He's still trying to take us for fools... ...Using us as a means to an end... ...I just want my friend back... ...He hasn't looked at me the same since the Reality Check... ...and I'm worried he won't ever be able to look at me the same again..."

"...'stel..."

...His memories are still fairly hazy, but... did she really used to think of him so fondly...? ...Was he really a friend to her before? She... sounded genuinely heartbroken...

But now that he could listen in, some things were beginning to make sense... Even now she was still side-eyeing him like he were a mountain lion waiting for her to turn her back...

...Thankfully, Midnight came in to the rescue.

"...A-Actually, 'stel, hang on there's something I wanna try. ...It's something Papa used to do when I was little. ...May I?"

"...Uh, sure. Go ahead, Midnight."

...Actually Moon, Midnight wants to try something.

In just a moment the Beldam watches as Astel's buttons turned a fiery orange as Midnight took control for just a brief moment, the shadow looking down at her damaged hands. With a deep breath, she gently blew on her burns, her own breath slowly turning to swirling grains of ethereal blue sand that coated and soothed her burns. It... almost seemed to form a protective layer, keeping the burns clean, protected, and soothed. Once she was done, Midnight scooted back to the backseat, leaving Astel to wrap properly wrap her hands with bandaging she had summoned from her old first-aid kit (which she hasn't touched in CENTURIES, to the point the case actually had a layer of dust that she had to blow off first).

...Hey...~ ...Not bad.~

"...That should do until Mikearu can heal it for us when we get home.~"

...Hm...~ ...Thank you though, Moon.~

She sighed as she pushed herself back to her feet, taking a moment to examine her bandaged hands.

...Well. Considering how my last glimpse went down... I'd say that's rather ill advised... ...Not unless you want to take a crack at it instead?~

Hey at least she was trying to make the situation a tad lighter with some humor, Astel giving a wry smile with a slight shrug.

...No... ...No, I... saw something after my scrying backfired. I saw... images. Places... Th-The order didn't make any sense to me there was the apartments in the overworld, then the tulip garden, a-and then the forest, then the well! But- But then it came right back to the house here in the Other World- I-I-It didn't make sense! Kul wahlaan zu'u bo wah saan dii hahdrim voth daar mey!! UGHHH-

She threw her head into her hands, groaning at the headache this puzzle has brought. The Universe just LOVES giving her the ol' one-two brain K.O doesn't it...

Also- Hang on was that last bit Dov Speech-?? Wait... Why did Moon knoe that? HOW did he know that??? He... can almost hear the translation of it in his head. Something about the universe's tomfoolery driving her insane, or something like that? It was something along those lines, though not a direct translation. But... somehow he knew what she meant. Being inside her head is going to be a lot more than he thought isn't it...

But as they spoke... there was a sort of soft "rattle" almost. That's what it sounded like at least. What was that anyway...? Eh... It was probably nothing. But then again... It... sounded like it was coming from the living room?

——————

He gave a tight smile at the magic covering her hands, almost looking insulted that she decided to tend to it herself. “If you decide you want that to be taken care of a touch more thoroughly,” he motioned vaguely to her hands “you need only to ask, dear.” The jar was set back where he got it as he pocketed the charm. He opened his mouth to point out that the scrying only went wrong when she tried to look into his world, cut off by the rattling. “…… Did you hear that?” He had already turned on his heels, walking towards the front room with deceptively light steps.

#submission #and before you ask-#there's an actual Thu'um translator-#my partner and I have been having so much fun with it since I got them into Skyrim-#ic #coraline au #a return worth waiting for #oh that’s fun 👀

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kodzukyan · 3 years

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better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

#baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokrev x reader #baji fluff #baji angst #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #i... i just really miss baji :(#come home you stinky head </3 #i'm sorry if he's ooc :(( in my head he's just really dorky and soft w his s/o HAHA #rissa told me to make it angst so i made it angst 👍#sometimes i write things

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)

Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied

A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.

So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.

“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.

Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.

That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.

“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.

He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.

You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.

It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.

It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.

“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”

“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.

You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.

“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.

“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.

Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?

“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.

And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.

Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.

When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.

You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.

It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.

“There you are.”

You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.

“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.

“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.

Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.

“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.

Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.

You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.

Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.

“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.

Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.

“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.

“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.

“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.

Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.

“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.

Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.

“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.

“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.

Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.

He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.

“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.

“Why me?” You blurted out.

It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.

“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.

“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.

Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.

“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.

Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.

That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh?

“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.

“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.

“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.

Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”

Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.

“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.

“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.

Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”

There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.

“What proposal?” You asked curiously.

“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.

You frowned, “What?”

Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.

“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately. “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.

You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.

Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.

So you said yes.

You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.

The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.

“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.

“I work at a bank.” You told him.

The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.

“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.

Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.

“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.

Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.

“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.

You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.

“I don’t bite.” He stated.

Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.

“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”

You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.

It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.

“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.

Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.

He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.

“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.

You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.

“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.

Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.

Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.

“Do we have rules?” You asked.

“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.

“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“

“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.

There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.

“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.

“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.

He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.

“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.

The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.

“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

1:15AM

Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.

“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.

“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.

“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.

“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.

Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.

Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”

“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.

You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.

“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”

You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.

2:45AM

“You hungry?” Bucky asked.

You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.

“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.

Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.

Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.

The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.

“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.

The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.

“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.

“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.

“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.

“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.

Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.

The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.

You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.

“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.

“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.

“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.

“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.

“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.

“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.

Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.

“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.

You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.

3:43AM

“Can I bring you back to my place?”

If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.

Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.

“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.

“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.

Bucky also owned a cat.

“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.

As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.

Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.

The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.

“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.

You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.

“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.

You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.

Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.

“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.

“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.

Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.

Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.

You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.

Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.

“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.

“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.

“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.

“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”

Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.

“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.

You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.

“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.

Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.

“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.

Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.

This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.

What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.

“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.

All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.

You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.

Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.

His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.

And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.

5:58AM

The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.

He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.

“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.

“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.

You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.

“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.

Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.

“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.

“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.”

Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.

12:24PM

A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.

Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.

You were gone.

And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.

You didn’t even leave a note.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.

He wanted more than twelve hours with you.

Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.

She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.

You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.

Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.

And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.

You refused to look back and went straight for the door.

One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did.

That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.

Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.

Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.

Steve.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.

He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.

“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.

You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.

Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.

“I know.” You whispered.

“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.

“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”

You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.

You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.

And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.

You quickly called Wanda.

“Movie night is cancelled!”

The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.

The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.

Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.

It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.

It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.

Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.

As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.

The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.

“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.

He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”

“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.

“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”

The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.

“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.

How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.

Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.

“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.

“Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.

“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.

Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”

When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.

You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”

Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.

Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.

“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.

“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”

You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.

“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.

“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.

“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.

Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”

The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.

You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.

“No more running off in the morning.”

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

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Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has been your neighbor for a few months now, so he likes to think you two are friends. Which is why he thinks you're the best person to go to to help him get back into the dating scene.

AN: inspired by one line of dialogue from the first ep of Falcon and the Winter Soldier. lol also, FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 1 SPOILERS!

Bucky felt lost. Well, he's always felt lost ever since he suddenly came back along with have of the world's population. He was pardoned by the government and now a civilian. He was going through therapy to deal with his 70+ years worth of trauma and trying to navigate his way through the modern world. Everything was new and exciting but also overwhelming and exhausting.

His therapist encouraged him to date and make friends. So that's what he did, or at least, tried to do.

He considers you a friend. You live in the apartment right beside him, gave him a friendly smile and helping hand when he first moved in. You two chatted when you'd run into each other in the hall or in the laundry room. You were nice, attractive, funny. He honestly thought about asking you out a few times, but you were his friend, his only friend it seems. So he couldn't ruin that. Therefore, he resorted to online dating.

He signed up to a bunch of dating websites and apps: eharmony, match.com, plentyoffish, tinder-SO MANY. Why are there so many dating apps?!

He's scrolling through his phone, so overwhelmed by the different pictures and information. What does DTF mean???

He scowls, tossing his phone onto a pile of dry laundry he should be folding. You enter the laundry room with a chuckle, "Everything alright?"

He glances over his shoulder and sees you. He immediately smiles and faces you, "Hey, um, yeah," he gestures to his phone, "Just, um..." he lets out a sigh and asks, "Do you know anything about dating?"

You look at him curiously and reply, "A little. Why? What's up?"

"I'm just," he nervously scratches his head and places his hands on his hips, "I'm trying this online dating thing and it's...a lot."

You can't help but snort, "I feel ya," you give him a reassuring smile despite your heart dropping to your stomach, "So, uh, what sites or apps are you on?"

"Um...all of them?"

You snort again, "No way. Let me see your phone." you hold out your open palm to him and he places his phone into your hands after unlocking it. You swipe through his apps and your brows shoot up to your hairline, "Well it's not all of them , but it's definitely a lot." you look up from the phone to Bucky, "Can I give some advice?"

"Please, I'll take anything you can give me," he replies desperately.

You hop onto the washing machine and hold up his phone, "Okay. These apps are usually for the older crowd. Like thirty five and up, so if you're not picky about age, feel free to keep these. Now, these apps are what the younger generations use. Tinder is usually for hook ups, one night stands and all that. Not many people take Tinder seriously. Bumble, is a level up from Tinder. You'll find people who are more serious about finding a relationship with also a mix of people looking for something casual. Hinge, I think, is a level up from Bumble. You don't see people's typical lame ass bios, but their answers to some fun questions, what kind of relationship they're looking for, if they smoke or do drugs, etc. Also, I'm not sure if you know this, but you can change the age range on all of these apps. So instead of having it from 18 to 50, you can narrow it so 25 to 35 or however you want."

You look at Bucky and see his brows are furrowed in...concentration? Confusion?

"Was that too much? Do I need to slow down?"

He shook his head, "No, no, that's not it. Um, thanks, Y/N," he shoots you a grateful grin and you smile back, "No problem, Bucky." You see the gears turning in his head and you ask a question, he might be scared to ask you, "Do you want me to help you find some potential dates?"

"Will you?" he asks in that same desperate tone from earlier.

Again, you put on a smile, despite your breaking heart, "Sure!"

You tap on Hinge, double checking on his preferences, and then going to the main page.

"Oh! Look here. She's a single mom, but she's also a nurse. On the weekends, you're most likely going to find her wine drunk and watching movies with her kids. She has pets. She'd like to have more kids some day. She sounds nice. How 'bout it, Bucky?"

"Sure. She-She sounds good."

"Cool! So you tap on the heart on whatever thing on her page. So let's like her....answer here. If you want, you can comment something, but if not, you just forward it and hope to see that she'll like you back and you can start messaging her! Also, it looks like some people already like you! So you just tap on this icon here and you can scroll through the different people who've liked something on your page and it's up to you if you want to make contact or not."

Bucky hums and plucks his phone from your hands, "Wow. This-Thanks Y/N. This really helped."

"No problem, Buck! If you ever need more help, just let me know!" you hop off the washer and proceed to start up a load of laundry. You mind running back and forth about how you should shoot your shot, but you were too afraid of ruining the friendship you and Bucky have.

______________________

Bucky: Hey

You: What's up?

Bucky: can you come over? I need more help with this online dating situation.

You: sure!

You let your phone fall to your side with a sigh, Bucky has been asking for your help with his online dating for two weeks now and while you're always happy to help him, it just sucks seeing someone get his attention that you wish you had.

You roll out of bed, not caring about how you looked and exit your apartment, knocking on Bucky's door.

He swings open to reveal him in a tight blue henley and some black jeans, "Hey!" he shoots you a grin and moves aside to let you in, "So, um, this girl, Janine. We've been messaging for a few days now and she wants to meet up. Is that too soon? And where should I take her? I've," he pauses to chuckle to himself, "I haven't dated since the forties so..."

Despite your feelings for him, you knew Bucky deserved to be happy, especially after all the shit he's gone through.

"Hm, well, what kind of vibes are you getting from her?"

"Vibes?"

"Yeah, um, what feelings do you get when you talk to her? Do you feel happy? Do you want to get to know her more?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so. I think it'd be nice to meet her in person and get to know her more face to face."

"Then yeah, take her out. But since it's your first time meeting her in person, it should be something casual. Low key, no pressure. A decent restaurant or a bar is probably best."

Bucky nods, "Yeah. Okay. Um, do you think you could help me pick something out?"

You can't help but laugh, "Bucky, I'm sure whatever you choose to wear, you'll be fine."

"Okay. Thanks, Y/N," he slowly wraps his arms around you for a hug, but not too tight in case you're uncomfortable. You surprise him by hugging him back, giving him a little squeeze, "You're welcome, Bucky."

It was Saturday and you didn't have work. You friends asked you to hangout with them, but you didn't want to. You wanted to stay holed up in your apartment, wallowing because Bucky would be going on his date with Janine tonight.

You're mindlessly watching tv , curled up on the couch. You turn your face into the pillow and scream in frustration. You should've just asked him out when you had the chance, but now that chance is gone.

You groan as you roll off the couch and head to your balcony. You just need some fresh air. You push up your window and climb onto the metal balcony. You sit on the outdoor chair you have there and stare up into the night sky. The stars are twinkling, the moon is shining. It looks like a perfect night for a date and here you are, alone.

"Hey-"

"AAAHHH!" you scream by the sudden appearance of Bucky on his own balcony. You're staring at him wide eyed, hand on your chest.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at your expression, "Sorry."

You shake your head and stand to meet him, "It's fine. What're you doing here? I thought you were on your date."

"Yeah, uh, turns out Janine didn't, what phrase did you use once, pass the vibe check?"

You snort, covering your mouth as you giggled. Bucky's smile grows at the sound and you pull yourself together, "Um, yeah that's it. But I'm sorry."

He shrugs, leaning against the railing, "Honestly, it's okay. I don't think the online dating thing is really for me. I think I'll probably stick to the old fashion way: meeting in person and asking them out on a date."

"That's understandable," you say with a nod.

"So how 'bout it?"

You look at him confused, "How 'bout what?"

"Do you wanna go on a date sometime?" you give a look of surprise and Bucky immediately adds, "But I totally understand if you don't want to. I just-you're nice, and beautiful, and funny I thought maybe-but we're friends so I totally understand if you don't-"

"No, no. Bucky, I just-I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Yeah?" You nod and he holds out his hand, "Come on then."

You give a nervous chuckle, "What?"

"I picked up a pizza after that disastrous date. We can eat and watch a movie. Casual and no pressure, right?"

You look from his striking blue eyes to his outstretched glove hand. You reach out to place your hand in his but then pull back, "Wait. I should probably change."

You step back to head back into your apartment, but Bucky grabs your hand, "You don't have to. You look great."

You chuckle and begin to climb from your railing to Bucky's, with his help, "Alright, Prince Charming. I expect to be wooed tonight."

"Of course you do, which is why I ordered pizza from your favorite place and I'm letting you pick the movie we watch."

"Bucky Barnes, I could kiss you!" you exclaim thoughtlessly but then you realized what you just said. You shook your head and began to ramble off excuses, "No no! I mean not now! Now that I don't want to kiss you. You're very kissable. Not that I imagine kissing you or anything it's just-"

Bucky leans in and gives you a little peck on the cheek, "I don't kiss until after the date's over, doll. So will that suffice for now?"

You could feel your cheeks heating up as you nodded and squeaked out, "Yup!"

He chuckled, taking your hand in his again and leading you to the couch where the pizza was waiting for you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #fem!reader #fatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier

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jjm-blogspot · 2 years

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JJM - Writer Introduction

Thought it was about time for me to make one of these so here we go. Hey, I’m Jess (24 y/o)! I’m a college graduate who is currently seeking to apply to medical school, summer 2023 (fingers crossed). But while I’m knee deep in my MCAT Psychology and Sociology flashcards, I’m also working on a debut novel that’s listed in my wip section below.

Writing wise:

I write YA fantasy, sci-fi, and supernatural novels, all with a dash of romance. All of my main characters are strong female leads, as well as women of color. It’s always something I wanted growing up so I’m trying to do my part.

For this blog I’ll post excerpts from my wip once in a blue moon, but mainly I’ll just have writing tips thrown up there and some other nonsense I thought was cool.

Also, I’d love to make some writing friends on here so comment on this post, maybe introduce yourself, and I’ll follow you and check out your blog. I can’t wait to meet you all!

Current wip (the blurb is expected to change but this is the gist):

Sunny Mage: The Time Child - expected 2023

Sunny specializes in the rarest form of magic, the solar arts, allowing her manipulation over time and space, but somehow being a half-mage trumps that fact. Nothing but ridicule awaits impure mage’s like her at Redstone, the Academy for Extraordinary Sorcerers. She seeks acceptance and recognition above everything else, and what better way to get it than by entering the Redstone Tourney? It’s the event of the year; mage’s of all ages battle it out for the opportunity to compete in the Global Mage Cup, where they’ll earn eternal glory.

As a participant in the tournament, Sunny will battle against students from her academy while showcasing her magical prowess. It should be a simple task, but things take a turn when her best friends, Thomas and Ellory, go snooping around about the rumors revolving around the past Tourney champions. Despite the oddities piling up, Sunny still intends to win. But the higher she climbs in the ranks, the more anxious she becomes to see what truly awaits the champion on the other side.

What’s the true purpose of the Redstone Tourney, and what happens to the champions in the aftermath? Sunny and her friends intend to find out.

#writeblr intro #writers of tumblr #writeblr #introductory post

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ahtsumu · 4 years

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目送 ; oikawa tooru

「alt. title: five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did」

↳ pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

↳ synopsis: you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.

↳ genre(s): angst, fluff, basically an emotional rollercoaster, non-linear storyline

↳ warning(s): profanity, depiction of a panic attack, suggestive themes

↳ length: 5.4k words

↳ a/n: hq fam how we doing after 402 ?? LOL anyway this is my birthday gift to oikawa tooru: my sun, moon, and stars, second to none, yadda yadda. the title is taken from a book with the same name, in case you were wondering. please pay attention to the roman numerals ahead of each section!! enjoy!

“This is the last call for Japan Airlines flight 717 to Buenos Aires, now boarding at gate number twelve. This is the last call…”

Goodbyes are hard when you know they’re forever. Or at least a while.

The clamour of Haneda airport dims to a faint buzz as the two of you continue standing with touching shoulders–– facing the jetliner instead of each other–– in futile hopes of delaying the inevitable.

Oikawa knows that you’re holding in your tears by the light tremors running through your body. Permitting himself to steal a look at your side profile, he notices the familiar tensing of your jaw and hard-set look in your red-rimmed eyes.

Tch. You said you wouldn’t cry.

Impulsively, he unzips his backpack and pulls out a familiar turquoise banner. It feels like just yesterday the team handed him the silk fabric with everyone’s farewell gifts wrapped inside.

Out-of-sequence memories of the Spring High qualifiers flash through your mind. The orange-haired Karasuno player’s spike ricochets off Oikawa’s forearms. The numbers on both sides of the scoreboard slowly inch up like they’re taking turns. Oikawa’s white knuckles against the metal basin. Red eyes. Heaving chest. Something soft against your skin. Rule the Court.

And just like the last time, he gently drapes it over your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your neck as he does so. God, how he wants to kiss you.

“But it’s yours,” you protest weakly, making no move to give it back.

“It won’t be for a while.” His voice cracks when he speaks. But it will be mine again when I come back for it.

He wants to kiss you. One last time.

He wants your mouth against his like absolution to a sinner because he knows that what he’s done to you, what he’s doing to you right now, is comparable to desecration. But he remembers the look on your face that night he broke the news to you. How your megawatt grin caved into a wince when the length of his contract with Club Athletico San Juan finally registered in your mind.

You swallow your feelings of betrayal. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Five years is an awfully long time to be apart,” you say after a while.

Oikawa bites his lip. He doesn’t have the heart to say that five was just the starting number. If he does well there, he’ll probably stay longer. He’ll probably do well there. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Seconds drag into minutes. The cavity in his stomach festers as he waits for your response, but he has a feeling that he already knows your answer.

So instead, all he can do when your floodgates finally burst open is cup your face in his calloused palms and wipe away some of your tears before offering you his own watery smile.

Through your blurred vision, you watch as the boy in front of you steels his resolve and disappears from your life through the jet bridge, ignoring his heart as it begs for one last look over his shoulder.

Oikawa nods numbly when the old man sitting beside him asks if he’s leaving home for the first time. Home, he realises, isn’t anywhere with walls, isn’t an address, isn’t even a person. When someone says they want to go home, it’s not a space that they yearn for, but rather, a time.

He watches Japan grow smaller through the window and feels himself yearn for the time he still had your heart in his hands. It felt like he was holding the sun.

You wouldn’t consider July 21st to be a special day. Nothing special happened earlier that morning when you woke up without your usual alarm. Nothing special happened when your friends texted you four simple words–– come to Azukihana beach!–– during breakfast. But (and this will come to you much, much later) something special happened when said friends left you to guard their things as they dashed to the supermarket for more snacks.

For now, it’s just July 21st, and you’re lying with your back against a towel on the first day of summer break, soaking in the sun, peacefully flipping through a book.

“DON’T FUCKING DO IT, YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF SHIT!” The familiar voice tears through the beach. Was that Iwaizumi? You set the book down and sit up to check.

And suddenly, the yellow and blue volleyball that had been leisurely rolling your way halts perfectly before your toes. Behind it jogs a shirtless brunet you’ve definitely seen around school.

Oikawa Tooru stops right behind the runaway volleyball and peers at you through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry about that,” he says, flashing you a charming smile.

After casually picking up the ball with one hand, he flexes his abdominal muscles as he straightens back up. Chestnut irises attempt to discreetly sweep over your features but you catch his gaze in the act, quirking an unamused brow. You also catch the intrigued twitch of his lips that follow.

You’re not stupid. Despite having never met him, you know a lot about the Grand King (as many call him). He’s the constant subject of Iwaizumi’s ire and you’ve heard a lifetime’s complaints about him at joint-family luncheons.

But here’s what’s important: you know that he tears himself apart to be the player his team needs him to be, that he sometimes makes Iwaizumi wish he’d passed the Shiratorizawa entrance exam, and that he fiddles with hearts like origami and sets fire to those beautiful fragile trinkets right after.

And in the interest of self-defence (but against what the devil on your shoulder begs), you choose to not place your most prized possession on the table.

A simple “no worries” passes through your lips. You return to your book. A page turns.

Oikawa Tooru is dismissed.

Though your gaze is trained on the page, you can feel his presence at your feet for a few seconds longer. You wonder what his next move is. Much to your surprise, instead of trying to strike up another conversation, he simply lets out an airy hum and strolls back to the sand court where he came from without a second glance.

Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa is smiling so victoriously after watching the whole ordeal, but your tan family friend has, unlike the calculating Grand King, failed to notice one important detail:

your book is upside down.

And, as if in a trance, your eyes have followed Oikawa all the way back to his sandy kingdom.

Once the sun has set, Iwaizumi checks his phone and notices a text he’d missed in the afternoon. It’s from Y/N. Unease digs itself in his chest when he realises it can’t possibly be for anything except…

hey what was that about?

This can’t be good. Thumbs rapidly typing a response, he races to quash any interest you may have budding in Oikawa. You… you’re good. Nice. Smart enough for UTokyo. A bit naive, but he’s been around your overbearing parents long enough to see it’s not entirely your fault. And even though you run in different circles at school, he feels obligated to protect you from monsters that hide beneath pretty surfaces. He’s known you since the two of you were in diapers.

just trash being what it is

Iwaizumi watches the three grey dots on your side appear, disappear, reappear, and disappear again. And that’s when he realises that he cannot help you. The villain in this arc of your story has already sunken his teeth in your tender, unsullied flesh.

trash?

He sighs.

oikawa

It isn’t a surprise to Iwaizumi when summer break ends and Oikawa’s chestnut eyes start hunting for someone in the cafeteria during lunch. He doesn’t raise a brow when he hears that the second-year captain has been sneaking into Class 7, sometimes with flowers in his hands, and strolling out with a dazed look on his face. He slaps his teammates out of shock when Oikawa mentions his troubles with pursuing some girl–– but not before slapping himself first. Because the Oikawa he knows is not a chaser.

“Her name’s Y/N,” the brunet says, suddenly realising that he has never introduced any of his temporary interests to the team. But it’s been well over two months and he’s starting to think he’s been friend-zoned. Or worse. “I think she hates me.” He laughs melodically, then cocks his head in contemplation. “Is it weird that I kinda like that?”

Iwaizumi hides a satisfied smile behind a sip of water. Oikawa’s revelation has cleared the unease your name brought to his chest. Just a little. Perhaps he’d misread you. You have a bite of your own.

iii.

It’s routine for Oikawa to slink into Class 7 with a dazzling grin during morning break, but he’ll sometimes show up with flowers instead just to remind you that his affections, along with his modus operandi–– haven’t changed since he first started visiting you in September.

The girls in your homeroom have grown used to seeing the six-foot-tall volleyball captain hovering around your desk like a butterfly. Most treat him as part of the scenery nowadays. To them, Oikawa Tooru is no longer the mysterious, out-of-reach deity the rest of the school still paints him to be.

So when he strolls into class on a chilly January afternoon with your name a tune on his lips, they leave him be. Recently, the ladies of Seijoh have focused their attentions on some fellow on the swim team, anyway. Oikawa doesn’t feel as upset as he thinks he should about his shrinking fan club, but when his gaze finds yours already steady, expectant, utterly adoring on him, he understands why.

“For the lady,” he says like he does every time. A cluster of yellow flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper plop onto your desk. He pulls a chair up to your side, purposely ignoring, again, how two certain grooves in the wooden floor keep growing deeper with his visits.

You remember the first time he started bringing you flowers.

A posy of pink flowers sits awkwardly on your desk, untouched.

“I tell you I’d rather take your serve to my face than attend the bunkasai with you and your response is to give me weeds?” you reply with your chin in the palm of your hands, amusement blossoming over your features.

“Stop being a tease, Y/N-chan, they’re flowers,” he huffs, crossing his arms on your desk. “And I know you want to take them. The florist even said I have immaculate taste.”

“Really? Then what do these mean?”

Oikawa falters.

“Hmm?”

“Pink camellias,” he finally says, carefully enunciating the flower's name, “means that you’re a fucking tease. And that you should come to the bunkasai with me.” You snort and tell him to quit volleyball and join comedy club, feeling a strange warmth in your chest when he laughs.

The two of you fall into the same rhythm as always, talking a little bit about this and that, throwing in witty remarks where they belong, never passing up the chance to make fun of each other’s little idiosyncrasies. He’s enraptured by the way you string words together to describe the story behind your class’s bunkasai performance and all the gears in your brain whirr when he explains the strategy he’s using against the team Seijoh’s playing later that day.

When the bell rings, he reluctantly drags his chair back to the desk he stole it from. Just before he slinks back out the door, though, you tell him with a stern gaze that the Ushiwaka from Shiratorizawa he just spent the break shit-talking doesn’t hold a candle to Seijoh’s Grand King.

It’s like you had just stepped under a new light. Oikawa pauses in front of the doorway, trying to decipher what it is that’s different about you. And suddenly, the roses in his cheeks are in full bloom. Delighted and puzzled at his own realisation, he turns around without a second glance your way and strides back to Class 5. Oh, man, he muses as he passes through the emptying corridor. Oh, man. Iwa-chan is going to love this.

Your phone buzzes later that evening.

seijoh v. shiratorizawa 1-2, the text reads, quickly followed by, GAH.

Your lips twitch, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Tapping your fingers against your phone screen for a response that’ll cheer him up, you suddenly remember a phrase Oikawa said earlier that day. It drew a laugh from you when it came out his contorted face. He was obviously still hung up over with the words of the opposing team’s ace. Hopefully, it makes him feel something else coming from you.

you should’ve come to shiratorizawa, you send, grinning.

His response is immediate.

l m f A O

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

And then you’re reminded of his petalled gift on your desk, now comfortably sitting in a glass vase at your bedside. Pink camellias, he said? Curious, you open your laptop and type in the name for its meaning.

Longing, you remember, watching your boyfriend chatter about something–– probably aliens–– animatedly. The yellow flowers on your desk, you realise, are ones you’ve never seen before.

“Oikawa, what’s the name of these?” you suddenly ask. He stops in the middle of his sentence (he was definitely talking about aliens, by the way), and grins smugly.

“Jonquils,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “spelt J-O-N-Q-U-I-L-S, means that your boyfriend’s going to colonise Mars one day. And if you’re lucky, you can be the first queen of Mars. How ‘bout that?”

It doesn’t mean what he says it does, by the way.

ii.

Splashes of pink and orange have already settled into the blue sky above when you step onto the rooftop of Seijoh’s humanities building. Despite the breeze that has swept through the air, the flame of curiosity in your stomach burns just enough for you to turn a cheek to the cold.

Come to the rooftop at 6 PM.

It’s 5:59. Impatient, you study the note in your hand again. Maybe you’ll be able to glean something from the laconic letter this time.

Much to your irritation, no one had seen the author of this note. They had expertly placed the unsigned card on your desk with a single rose and Hershey’s chocolate kiss on top during lunch. Elegantly scrawled, their seven words have had your brain running circles all day around their identity. Could it be…? No–– he seemed completely normal earlier today. Still, you can’t shake your suspicions. They borderline hope.

Who else…

You inhale the cool air deeply and lean back against the rooftop railing, eyes burning a hole into the metal entrance. The door swings open with a high-pitched groan. Your breath catches in your throat.

… if not him?

Time briefly stops when Oikawa Tooru steps through the entrance, still in his volleyball uniform, sweaty from practice, cheeks the same colour as the setting sun. There’s an unusually tentative look on his face, though it’s immediately wiped off and replaced with the realisation that this is real when he sees you slightly slack-jawed, blinking once, twice, three times before letting out a breath.

“You look surprised. Expecting someone else to confess today?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his uniformed chest. Despite how his features are contorted by his poorly hidden jealousy, you can’t help but feel a flood of blood rush through your veins, lighting every inch of your skin on fire.

Because whether he knows it or not, Oikawa, the Grand King of the Court, prettiest boy in all of Miyagi, has skipped the table and placed his heart straight into your hands.

“Of course not,” you retort. “I just didn’t think you’d… well, do something like this.” And I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Iwaizumi’s words still find their way into your mind sometimes. I didn’t want origami made from my heartstrings.

Oikawa’s demeanour changes and his eyes dart away from your face. Shoving his hands into his windbreaker’s pockets, he admits, “I’ve honestly never done something like this before.” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Really? You’ve never stepped foot in the fourteenth shrine of Sendai?” you tease, referring to how Seijoh students have claimed this very rooftop as one of the God of Love’s many temples. You both know he holds the school record for the number of visits to this rooftop. At this rate, he could be one of its caretakers.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a scowl, though the awkward tension between you two dissipates. And it feels like the two of you are back at your desk in Class 7, snickering uncontrollably while throwing playful jabs at each other. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Oikawa finally steps forward to join you by the railing.

Humming softly, he rests his elbows on the metal bar, props his head up with his hands, and sets his gaze on the lowering sun.

It’d be unfair to say that you didn’t at least try to enjoy the moment of peace with the boy beside you. But there’s a burning question on your mind that you can’t put off asking any longer.

“Why me?” you finally blurt out. “You could have any girl in this school. What made you choose me?”

The brunet whips his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “You think I chose to chase after the most annoying girl in all of Miyagi?” He laughs. “Ridiculous. I’d never willingly put myself through that unnecessary angst.”

You scoff and cross your arms.

“I think that when you like someone, it’s harder to explain why,” he quickly adds. “‘Cause it’s not supposed to make sense. I bet that the inability to explain your feelings is a prerequisite for true feelings, actually. It’s logical to say that you’d date Person A because they’re smart, or Person B because they’re hot, or Person C because they’re rich. But I’m pretty sure that that’s not… that’s not falling for someone. When you fall for someone… you just do. No logic required. You weren’t an option I ultimately settled on, Y/N. One day I just woke up and thought, if not you, then no one else.”

A beat passes. A flurry of words floods through your brain, only to evaporate when the devil on your shoulder decides that words aren’t quite adequate for what you want Oikawa to hear.

So instead, your feet take you one step closer into his space. Impulsively, your fingers find their way to his nape and your eyes flutter shut and suddenly–– suddenly, your parted lips brush against Oikawa’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss, soft lips surging against yours like a pulse under pressure. You barely register his arms snaking around your waist, tighter and tighter until the space between your bodies is completely closed off.

Breathless, you finally detach your lips from his. Oikawa, who still has you encircled in his arms, pouts at the loss of contact, though he sulky façade only lasts a second before it gives way to a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He looks magnificent. Cheeks red, lips flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide with excitement. You want to kiss him again.

“One more.” It’s as if he read your mind. “To celebrate that last one.”

When Oikawa finally detaches himself from your lips, it’s to respond to the buzzing in his pocket. Noticing your raised brows, he explains that it’s an alarm for practice. The Spring High Prelims are just around the corner and he doesn’t plan on graduating without never having taken his team to Nationals.

“That’s my cue,” he states with a warm–– read: not apologetic–– smile. He doesn’t grab your hand or look imploringly into your eyes in hopes that you understand, never mind that you just shared your first kiss, never mind that you just became his girlfriend.

If Oikawa’s looking for any sign of your objection, he won’t find any. Instead, you step out of his space with an acquiescent nod. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Play well,” you say softly.

But before he heads for the creaky rooftop door, he presses one last kiss to your lips. And then he turns around, whistling as he goes, leaving you beaming behind his back with the light of a thousand suns.

iv.

When Matsukawa hands you the turquoise “Rule the Court” banner after the team lunch with a shit-eating grin on his face, the only resistance you offer is a resigned sigh.

“I’ve been dating Oikawa since we were second years,” you say flatly.

“Sorry, Y/N-san, but it’s the team’s hazing ritual,” he replies, not appearing sorry at all. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t done it.” He jerks his head at the blonde girl standing a little farther from the group with Hanamaki. “Emiko-san did it at the last game.”

“Plus, it’s the Spring High qualifier semifinals!” Kindaichi adds. “It’s an even bigger deal for you to do it now, especially since you had to miss our games on the first two days for school.” The team murmurs in agreement.

You shudder at the thought of your impending distress. Sit in the front row of the cheer squad and raise the banner with a scream every time your boyfriend serves? Fleeing from the Sendai City Gymnasium back home in an expensive taxi suddenly becomes very appealing.

Seeing the expectant and hopeful looks on the rest of the team’s faces, however, you begrudgingly place the banner in your backpack, signalling your acceptance of the horrible, cringe-worthy tradition.

“Where is Oikawa-san?” Kindaichi asks, rotating his turnip-shaped head around rapidly. “He was just at the team lunch. Iwaizumi-san’s missing too…”

Kunimi shrugs, pulling out his copy of the team schedule. He starts herding the team towards one of the courts. “Our game against Karasuno starts about an hour, so we should start warm-ups in around fifteen minutes.”

Worry creeps up your spine. For the past few days, all Oikawa has talked about is this match against his bratty kouhai’s team. And in the past two weeks leading up to today, you haven’t been able to even catch a glimpse of his face outside of break or lunch. To suddenly go missing before warm-ups doesn’t seem like Oikawa. You’re about to ask the team if he’s ever done this before, but your phone starts ringing a familiar tune and the question is set aside.

“Iwai––”

“Third-floor bathroom by the orange pillar. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Emergency.” Through his harsh and abrupt tone, you pick up traces of fear.

“What––”

“It’s Oikawa.” The call is cut before you can ask any more questions. Heart suddenly racing, you tell the team that your mother just called with questions about your new smart blender and excuse yourself to “explain what the manufacturers mean by salsify”. No one sees you bolt towards the nearest set of staircases with Oikawa the only thought on your mind.

There are very few things in this world that scare you. Stray hairs in the bathroom, the dark, essays longer than three pages… but the terror that short-circuits your brain when you find your boyfriend in the bathroom–– knuckles white around the sink, chest heaving violently, frenzied pupils surrounded by broken blood vessels–– trumps any fear you’ve faced before.

Iwaizumi stands helplessly beside him.

“Is he having a panic attack?” you question, still unable to move your feet. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this before. He’s the Grand King who hums while he walks, who spams your phone’s camera roll with peace-signs and funny faces, who winks and flirts and teases without regard. But watching the long-deified setter crumble like a measly human before you, you realise that Oikawa is also the guy who tore his meniscus from overexertion, who trades sleep to study his opponents play, who works his body to the bone just to stay a hairline above a certain Karasuno setter.

“A scout for the Schweiden Adlers said that Kageyama will soon surpass Oikawa in skill.” Iwaizumi explains how they had overheard the conversation lowly in your ear. “I got us into this bathroom just before he completely lost it. 5-4-3-2-1 isn’t working. And he won’t listen to a word I say.” What’s 5-4-3-2-1? Well, if it isn’t working then don’t focus on that right now.

Your eyes dart to Oikawa’s quivering body again. “I don’t know how to pull someone out of a panic attack.”

“The goal is to ground him. So use physical touch, make him feel something with texture, and get him to talk,” he responds instantly. Mechanically. Like he’s all-too-familiar with this set of instructions. A heaviness grows in the pit of your stomach when you realise what that means for Oikawa. And yet, from that very dread sprouts strength.

Slowly, you tread over to Oikawa and place a hand on his arm. His muscles tense under your touch but when you murmur over and over that it’s “Y/N, your girlfriend, the most annoying girl in Miyagi”, his fingers loosen ever-so-slightly from the metal basin. He lets you lead him to the bench by the door. He lets you drape the Seijoh banner over his shoulders like it’s armour and wrap your arms around his waist. He lets you press your cheek to his sweat-drenched back.

Get him to talk.

“Remember that quote you showed me from that interview of yours? What was it again?” you question softly.

No response.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks,” you say into his ear.

Through the mirror, you see his eyes widen with recognition. In the brief moment of lucidity that washes over Oikawa’s glistening face, you repeat the original question again, followed by his own quote.

Again and again.

And Oikawa finally says back.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” Focus re-enters his gaze. He blinks as if just waking from a spell.

“That’s right,” you say as firmly as possible. “So don’t you dare break first, Tooru.”

An unreadable blend of emotions scrawls itself over his features. While Oikawa washes his face with cold water, you remember rumination and resolve but can’t decipher the rest, giving up anyway when Iwaizumi pushes open the bathroom door. When the light washes over Oikawa, his face shows no signs of the episode he just had. It’s just like how the sky moves on after a storm, how the sun beams to say, “I’m here now. The rain has gone.”

But sometimes it still rains in spite of the sun.

A sunshower. It sounds so beautiful. But it’s wonderfully sad.

The three of you wordlessly make your way to the court where the rest of Seijoh is likely getting ready to warm up. What are you supposed to say after that? What can you say?

Once the smell of air salonpas and sweat finally greets your nose, Oikawa slips the Seijoh banner off his back and hands it over to you. Guessing that’s your cue to leave, you tell him to play well like you always do before starting to head for the upper deck. Softly, Oikawa asks you to wait.

“Stay for warm-ups,” he adds. “Please.”

From your spot behind the Seijoh divider, you carefully watch for any signs of another breakdown. To your relief, he goes the entire half-hour without a single crack in his disposition, exchanging laidback grins with the team, bantering with Iwaizumi. At one point he even has the audacity to taunt the Karasuno setter Tobio-chan, as Oikawa often says with a sneer.

Sunshowers, Y/N. Sunshowers.

Just before the referees call for the teams to line up at their ends of the court, Oikawa jogs over to you, eyes folding into thin crescents when he smiles.

He pulls the Seijoh banner out from your hands and gingerly cloaks it around your shoulders. Oikawa presses a quick kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Thank you.” Something in face tells you that it’s supposed to mean more than gratitude. Before you can read more into it, he turns back around and jogs to the line where his team awaits. Oikawa grins ferally.

Knowing that your luminous eyes are fixed to his back like his own set of wings, the monster crows on the other side suddenly look more like humans.

vi.

Oikawa isn’t surprised that his text is still unopened. At twenty-seven years old, he’s had his fair share of dead-ends when it comes to love. But he hadn’t expected radio silence from you of all people.

After closing all the tabs of Team Japan’s latest matches, he powers off his laptop and checks his phone again to reread what he wrote to your old number one last time. Still nothing. It’s highly probable you’ve changed phone numbers at least once in the last nine years, but the disappointment’s still there after he powers his phone off for the night. Tomorrow’s a big day and he’s not the same victim of self-destruction he had been in high school.

Or so he thinks, realising that texting the last person he loved the night before the 2021 Olympics volleyball finals might have been slightly irresponsible on his part. A thought arises in his head, though he quickly quashes it. Asking Iwaizumi to pass the message along would be a little overboard, wouldn’t it? Oikawa chuckles, imagining he response he’d get from his best friend (and Team Japan’s team trainer, that traitor).

“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll put you to sleep, you dumbass simp,” he hears in Iwaizumi’s gruff voice.

He convinces himself that you’ll be there like you’ve always been. After all, he’s spent a lifetime with your pair of watchful eyes on his back. Satisfied, he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

The volume in the Ariake Arena is astronomical. Blood pounds against his ears as he sets the ball in the air, a monstrous grin carving into his face when his teammate José spikes the set straight down the net, drawing a wave of oohs and aahs from spectators on both sides.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the flashy Team Argentina setter and finishes taping up Ushijima’s arm.

Oikawa turns haughtily towards the opposite team, gaze zeroing in on Team Japan’s raven-haired setter and the shrimpy ginger beside him. It’s been a while since he last saw them this close in person–– the chance encounter with Hinata in Brazil happened well over three years ago and he hadn’t had the time earlier in the tournament to say hello. Of course they’re the final boss in this arc, he muses, though the thought is void of vexation. Instead, begrudging pride blossoms in his chest. Truthfully, he had expected nothing less from his kouhai.

And he expects nothing less than finally tasting the ambrosia of victory against that monster–– no, an entire generation of monsters–– today. Monsters who happen to be the kids he grew up beside.

He wonders what you’d say at the sight of Japan’s greatest players all gathered on one court. On instinct, his eyes dive into the bleachers, searching for your face. Knowing he’s not likely to find you like this, he tsks, deciding to look for Iwaizumi instead. Maybe he knows where you are.

The referees signal for both teams to line up at their ends of the court. As he steps onto the white boundary line, he notices Iwaizumi’s gaze transfixed on someone in the upper deck on Team Argentina’s side. The neutral expression on his face morphs into shock, then recognition. And then he glances at Oikawa.

The latter’s brows furrow before everything clicks in place.

Who else…

All your memories together hit him at full force–– your face shimmering with tears in front of gate twelve in Haneda Airport, the feeling of your shallow breaths against his neck, the savvy lilt to your voice as you speak.

… if not her?

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru looks behind his shoulder.

And there you are, leaning against the railing with the old Seijoh flag draped over your shoulders, a tender, splendid smile on your lips.

“Play well,” you mouth.

And Oikawa feels the sun rise back into his hands.

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insomniamamma · 3 years

Text

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

"You did this on purpose." "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--" "You don't have a right hand," "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations." "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm. "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins. "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception. "You sure?" Asks Ezra. "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade." "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--" "No." "No?" "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring. "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do. Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled. "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab? He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him. "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you. "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid. Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest. "Hi Ez," "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder. "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer. "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes. "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?" "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?" "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-" "The wrapping was mutual-" "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head. "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch. "Tickles." "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him. “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

"She's late," says Ezra. "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board," "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair. "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you. "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair." "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee. "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her. "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully. "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though." "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile. “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big. "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something." "I look forward to it," says Ezra. "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug. "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit. "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee. "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs. "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit. "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee. "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra. "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?" "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about." "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

#ezra x f!reader w/cee #ezra prospect x f!reader w/cee #ezra and cee #soft!ezra needs his own warning #don't look at me #this is so soft

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Breadsticks & a Boyfriend (kth/jjk)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Taehyung Genre: smut, pwp Final Rating: Explicit Word Count (Chapter): ~3.4k

Tags (more added as needed): smut, PWP, strangers to lovers, rough sex, dirty talk, sex toys, face fucking, coming untouched, shy Jungkook

Summary: When Taehyung took a simple order of pizza, breadsticks, and a soda to a customer on a rainy day, he had no idea how good his tip would be.

A/N: This fic was written for the @bangtanwritingbingo Summer Bingo square Jungkook x Taehyung and also for @venusiangguk who requested TaeKook with prompt #11: “Is it an oral fixation or do you just not want to talk to me?”

The life of a pizza delivery boy was far more interesting than one would think. Though it was a lower end, minimum wage job, for someone like Taehyung, it was excellent. He was a natural social butterfly. Outgoing, bright, vibrant, always seeking to make new friends. This job allowed him to meet a whole variety of people. Who didn’t like pizza? Upper class, snobby elite individuals, right down to the barely surviving folks who managed to scrape together enough for a small delivery once in a blue moon – Taehyung loved meeting them all.

It was a Friday. It was payday. It was a good day. At least, until the clouds rolled in, darkening the sky and bringing thunder. And unfortunate torrents of rain. But a delivery boy doesn’t get a day off, and orders tended to only increase when the weather was this cruddy.

Taehyung didn’t mind. Not really. He could handle a little rain and he had a sturdy car.

The delivery was simple. A large pepperoni pizza, a small order of breadsticks, and a 2 liter of Coke. Simple. Probably a parent with a young child, a college age student, or a babysitter. Should be quick. Probably not a great tip for any of them, but that was okay; he’d had a big delivery to a house party earlier and had made a massive tip… And gotten a cute boy’s number. Taehyung was handsome, so it happened more than one would assume. The jokes about wanting to sleep with the pizza boy weren’t always jokes. Not that he’d ever go through with any of it. It was simple flirtation, it helped with tips. Taehyung figured he’d have to find someone pretty damn special to actually call them back.

The rain seemed to come down harder as Taehyung drove to the address on his GPS. He reached a cute little house with a nicely kept yard. It was a little bit of a walk from where he was able to park to the porch… The driveway would offer a little more protection and a little shorter distance… Normally he didn’t park in driveways; people tended to sometimes get a little angry – but considering the circumstances…

Taehyung pulled into the driveway, nosing as close as he dared to the garage door. He grabbed the pizza bag and covered it carefully with a plastic sheet before pulling up his hood and getting out. He raced from the driveway to the front door, relaxing only when he was safely on the porch. He knocked once, putting on a broad smile.

The door opened a crack, and then a little further, and then all the way. And Taehyung, for what it was worth, forgot how to breathe.

Standing in the doorway was the most stunning young man he’d ever seen. The man was just a little shorter than he was, with shaggy brown hair that swooped down nearly over his eyes, parted enough to peek his forehead. He wore thick silver hoops in his ears, two in his right and one in his left. His plush mouth and round nose matched his face perfectly, and dark eyes drew Taehyung in almost immediately. The man’s beauty wasn’t lowered or altered in the slightest by the fact that he was wearing a sweater and sweats, his feet bare. He smiled softly, his nose crinkling up.

Taehyung beamed. “Hey. Pizza. You’re…” He glanced at the nametag on the receipt. “Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook nodded. He glanced over Taehyung shoulder, his small smile drooping. “Come inside,” he said softly, stepping aside.

“Oh, thank you.” Taehyung stepped inside just enough for Jungkook to close the door, and crouched to take out the food. He handed it over to Jungkook quickly. “Pouring out there,” he commented.

“Flooding,” Jungkook agreed.

Taehyung scowled at that. He turned, glancing out the window. As Jungkook had commented, the streets were nearly filled with water, pouring in rivets in certain areas. Taehyung’s body went cold. “Oh God, it got worse.”

“Doesn’t look safe to drive in,” Jungkook muttered.

Taehyung sighed heavily. He turned back and smiled as best he could. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He turned to grab the doorknob, but Jungkook rushed forward, grabbing his wrist.

“It’s a flash flood. News said it was dangerous. You should stay until it’s lightened up.” His voice was soft and timid, barely above a whisper. Either he was terrified, or truly the shiest man in the city. But he seemed genuine in his concern, and Taehyung felt a strange peace come over him at that.

“I’ll call my boss.” Taehyung turned and pulled out his phone, dialing his boss’ number.

“Kim Taehyung! Are you safe? It got so bad out there, I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I’m at the last customer’s house.”

“I shouldn’t have sent you out in this mess. Can you make it back?”

“The roads are pretty flooded. I was calling to ask if I could stay out. Until they clear up. I’ll work extra hours tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it. Stay safe. Do you know the customer?”

“No, but he’s letting me stay until it clears up. I’ll let you know when I make it home.”

“Thank you, keep me updated.”

Taehyung hung up and smiled. “She’s okay with me not going back. Uh… Thanks for letting me hide out here until the weather lightens.”

Jungkook nodded. He looked down at the food in his hands and turned, setting it on his table. He turned back, chewing his bottom lip.

Taehyung blinked, unsure what to do. He watched Jungkook disappear through a doorway and then return, holding out a paper plate toward Taehyung.

“Are you offering me lunch?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook nodded, pulling open the pizza box.

“Thanks.” Taehyung kicked his shoes off and hung his hoodie before he stepped up, taking a slice of the pizza. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand. Jungkook smiled shyly and shook it. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it, grabbing a breadstick and sticking it into his mouth instead.

Taehyung laughed a little.

He sat at the table, watching Jungkook eat.

“Do you live alone?” He asked. Jungkook swallowed the bite he had in his mouth and nodded, quickly adding more food to his mouth.

Their lunch continued in that manner – Jungkook would answer yes or no answers, always adding food to his mouth, a drink, or biting on something to keep his mouth too full to give Taehyung much of an answer at all. Despite the one-sided conversation, Taehyung was thoroughly intrigued by Jungkook. He wanted to know everything about him. Namely, why he refused to speak.

Despite his quiet nature, Taehyung could feel Jungkook looking at him whenever he looked away. A few times their gazes met, and Jungkook’s was intense enough that Taehyung found himself a bit flustered. For someone who refused to speak, he was certainly showing plenty of interest.

After lunch, Jungkook wandered over to the couch. He looked at Taehyung and patted the seat next to him. Taehyung smirked. He settled next to Jungkook, turning his attention to the television when Jungkook turned it on, flipping through the channels. He picked up the string on his sweatshirt as he did, sticking it into his mouth and chewing gently on it.

Taehyung chuckled a little. He relaxed back against the couch, glancing over at Jungkook every little bit. Even relaxed like this – the boy was stunning. His profile was nearly perfect. He could easily be a singer or a celebrity.

“What do you do for a living, Jungkook?” Taehyung finally asked.

Jungkook looked over, his eyes wide. He dropped the string from his mouth. “I— I’m computer. I program. Computers.” He stuttered.

“Wow, that’s cool,” Taehyung grinned. “You must be super smart, that’s such a cool job.”

Jungkook smiled shyly. He stuck the string back in his mouth, gnawing on it.

“I’m finishing up college myself,” Taehyung continued, looking back at the television. “For photography and media design. I absolutely love art in all forms.”

He glanced at Jungkook from the corner of his eye, catching the other eyeing him up and down. A slow smirk crossed his lips.

“You know, Jungkook… I’ve gotta ask.” He looked back at him and reached out, tugging the sweatshirt string from his mouth. “Is it an oral fixation, or do you just not want to talk to me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. He covered his mouth and tilted his head a little.

“No, I—I don’t not want to talk to you. I mean, I—” He squeaked a little, covering his ears.

Taehyung’s grin grew. “Are you really so shy?”

Jungkook lowered his gaze and nodded.

“Well you don’t have to be.”

Instead of responding, Jungkook slipped his finger into his mouth, chewing the skin around the side of his fingernail.

Taehyung reached out, pushing his hand down. He shifted over a little, staring until Jungkook looked at him.

“You’ve been checking me out all afternoon.”

“You noticed?” Jungkook squeaked. His cheeks began to redden in little blotches, chest rising a little faster. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s creepy,” Jungkook muttered.

“I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty flattered.” Taehyung reached out, hesitating a moment before touching Jungkook’s cheek with his hand. “Not often a stunning young man looks at me like that.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Jungkook whispered. He looked away, but didn’t pull his face away from Taehyung’s grip.

“I’ve been looking at you too, Jungkook.” Taehyung paused, letting Jungkook look at him once more. When he did, Taehyung continued. “We’re both adults. If you do have an oral fixation… Well…” Taehyung wet his lips, leaving the question unasked.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped down to his crotch, and Taehyung smirked.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Is that what you were thinking about?”

Jungkook didn’t answer. He bit on his lips, sucking them in until they formed a fine line. Taehyung pushed a little further, stroking his thumb over Jungkook’s mouth.

“It’s okay if it was. You just need to tell me. So that I know how to respond.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened just enough to be noticeable. He released the grip on his lips, then bit his bottom lip once more, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “What if I was?” He kept the same soft voice, but there was something else. A rough, needy tone that sent the blood straight to Taehyung’s cock.

“I guess I’d have no choice but to oblige your curiosity. I can’t deny a cute boy his wants, now can I?” Taehyung rose. He put his hands on his jeans, hesitating. “Is this what you were thinking about, Jungkook?”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes glued to Taehyung’s crotch.

Taehyung undid his jeans. He could not honestly believe he was doing this. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock was already standing at attention, mostly hard at the prospect of having Jungkook in any way.

Despite his shyness, Jungkook responded immediately. He sank to his knees and stroked Taehyung’s cock twice before opening his mouth. Taehyung pushed his hips forward slowly, letting his smooth tip slide over Jungkook’s tongue.

“Holy shit... Suck on it.”

Jungkook’s lips closed immediately and he began to suck, bobbing his head easily along the shaft. Taehyung’s toes curled. He buried his fingers in Jungkook’s soft curls, letting his head fall back. His cock hardened the rest of the way within seconds. Taehyung snapped his hips forward until the tip of his cock bumped the back of Jungkook’s throat. He looked down.

Jungkook gagged once, screwing his eyes shut. Instead of pulling back, he shifted, swallowing the spit pooling around Taehyung’s cock. He moved back a little and pushed forward. Taehyung felt his tip bump his throat again, and the convulsion of his throat, and then it relaxed.

Taehyung shouted when his tip slipped into Jungkook’s warm, tight throat. He began to pump his hips gently, not wanting to hurt Jungkook, but wanting to savor that tight, unique feeling. He pulled his cock free, marveling at how slick with spit it was, shining in the lamplight. Jungkook let his mouth hang open, drool spilling out over his chin and onto his lap. His cock was tenting the front of his sweats obscenely.

“You getting off swallowing my dick, pretty one?” Taehyung teased, slapping Jungkook’s cheek with his cock.

Jungkook nodded. He leaned back, pulling his sweats down around his knees. His cock wasn’t huge, but it certainly was hard, dripping precome the moment it was exposed.

“Can you come from this, sweetie?” Taehyung cooed. He rubbed his cock over Jungkook’s lips.

“Almost,” Jungkook whispered. “As long as I can finger my ass.”

“Do you have toys?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Go put one in for me. One that will help you come. I want you to squirt without touching yourself.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook rose. He tugged off his sweats and rushed off. Taehyung stroked his cock lazily, Jungkook’s spit slicking the way.

Jungkook returned with a thick, curved dildo in one hand.

“Wanna stick it up my ass?”

“I’d love to.”

Jungkook crawled onto the couch. He let his head hang over the edge, and slung his back and hips up the back of it, folding himself up so his knees nearly touched his chest. The angle exposed, and spread, his ass beautifully. Taehyung spit against his hole, smirking when it fluttered and Jungkook giggled.

“I was fingering myself before you came,” he explained. “Just stick it in.”

Taehyung did as he requested, sliding the silicone cock past his tight rim. Jungkook moaned contentedly, his dick dribbling precome onto his upper chest.

“Jungkook...” Taehyung said, nestling the toy neatly between Jungkook’s ass cheeks. “Can you come on your own face in this position?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Let me know when you’re close... I wanna see that.”

Taehyung shifted, rubbing his cock over Jungkook’s lips once more before sliding into his warm mouth. The new angle let Taehyung watch his cock slowly slipping in, each bob of Jungkook’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, easing the way for the sensitive tip to finally slip into his throat. Despite having been there earlier - the feeling still caught Taehyung off guard. He lightly rested his hand on Jungkook’s throat as he began to pump his hips. Much to his surprise, right at the start of his throat, Taehyung could feel a little bulge on each inward stroke. He rubbed it gently, gasping at the sudden pressure.

“Oh god, I’m really in your throat—“ he panted. He pulled back and Jungkook gasped in a breath. He grinned, his eyes shut.

“Where’d you think I was putting it?” He teased.

Taehyung slapped his bare ass, working the dildo deeper, and Jungkook moaned.

Taehyung slid his cock back into his mouth, gripping the base of the dildo. One hand rested over Jungkook’s throat, rubbing lightly each time he pumped his cock. The other he used to tug the dildo, not enough to pull it free from the clench of Jungkook’s rim, but just enough to tease.

Jungkook moaned around Taehyung’s cock, the wet gulping noises adding to the obscenity - and sexiness - of the situation.

Jungkook’s cock was leaking precome freely, dribbling clear streaks over his heaving, sweat slicked chest. He began to tap Taehyung’s thigh and pointed at his cock.

Taehyung pulled out, and Jungkook moaned loudly. He reached down, holding his ass open further, and pushing his hips up more. His cock twitched and throbbed visibly. Taehyung began to work the dildo quicker, angling it against where his prostate should be. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.

“Stick it down my throat,” he begged. His voice was rasping and dry. He opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out.

Taehyung obeyed, sliding his cock in. Jungkook’s nose nuzzled against his tight, full balls, and he gagged, his cock twitching. Taehyung struggled to hold still as Jungkook began to swallow and moan around him. The squeeze was bordering on uncomfortable, but Taehyung barely noticed. Jungkook was moaning against him, the vibrations tingling up his cock and all the way to his toes. He almost missed the desperate tapping on his thigh for a second time.

He pulled out, and Jungkook jerked hard. He burped, his cheeks pinking up even more, and his cock began to spurt. The first rope landed on his chin, milky and thick. Jungkook tilted his head just enough and the next two spurted into his open mouth. Taehyung went forward, sliding his cock in. The final hot rope streaked over his shaft, making him shudder. He pushed his cock deep into Jungkook’s mouth, feeling the silky slide of Jungkook’s come as it coated his cock.

He began to pump his hips, chasing his orgasm. “Gonna come in your throat,“ Taehyung gasped, holding Jungkook’s head. Jungkook gave a thumbs up, moaning around his cock.

Two more pumps and Taehyung went still, grunting softly. His cock spilled into Jungkook’s throat, milked by the steady swallows, and urged on by Jungkook’s hands on his ass, holding him deep. The orgasm curled his toes, every nerve alight with pleasure. Each pump he knew he was spilling into the delicate, exposed throat of his pretty new friend. Jungkook’s breath was hot against his balls as he struggled to draw in air and not choke on the come. His own softening cock twitched weakly and dribbled onto his chest.

Taehyung pulled out only when he began to soften, and Jungkook shot up, coughing and gagging. Taehyung sat next to him, rubbing and patting his back. He reached up, wiping away some of the stray come and spit streaking Jungkook’s face.

“You okay?” Taehyung worried. Jungkook nodded, clearing his throat. He smiled sheepishly.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice raspy. Taehyung rose and grabbed the cup of soda from the table, bringing it over to Jungkook. Jungkook rose just enough to pull his sweats up before slumping back onto the couch and taking the cup from Taehyung.

Taehyung fixed his jeans, glancing around.

“So that was… Something…”

“Were you pleased?” Jungkook asked softly, staring into the cup.

“Was I—Of course I was pleased, you were great. I’ve never had someone… So happy to do that. Do you really like it when people…”

Jungkook nodded again. “I don’t get the opportunity often. I’m too shy to really make friends, let alone proposition someone.”

Taehyung sat back down next to Jungkook. “Look, we just met… And I didn’t, obviously… Plan for any of this. So, you would be well within your rights to tell me to fuck off…”

Jungkook looked over, tilting his head a little curiously.

Taehyung smiled. “God you’re cute,” he sighed.

Jungkook giggled a little at that, lowering his gaze. “I already sucked your dick,” he said softly. “You don’t need to butter me up.”

“What if I’m buttering you up for something else?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook looked back up.

“Like what?”

“A date.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, making them disappear into his shaggy bangs. “A date? W… With you?”

“Yeah, with me. I like you. I want to get to know you better. What do you think?”

“I—” Jungkook seemed to freeze, pinching his lips together in a fine line.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Taehyung worried.

“No, I – I want to. I just… Why?”

“Because I like you.” Taehyung shrugged. “You want to?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Great. Uh… Well, I mean… Obviously I’m already over but… Maybe this weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

Taehyung grinned. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Jungkook. “Your number, if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jungkook took it and typed it in. As he did, Taehyung rose, peeking out of the blinds.

“Looks like the flooding has gone down enough. I should probably get back to my work.”

Jungkook nodded. He rose, fixing his own pants. He handed Taehyung’s phone back.

“Text me so I can get your number… Drive safe, okay?”

Taehyung nodded. He pulled on his jacket and toed into his shoes. Jungkook moved up to him, looking shy once more.

“What?” Taehyung teased.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Can’t get enough of that oral fixation, eh?” Taehyung joked. He reached out, brushing his thumb over Jungkook’s bottom lip. “Of course you can.”

He pulled Jungkook into a gentle kiss, holding him close. It was funny, he realized, as they separated and he hurried out the door to his car. A simple twist of fate – a forced meeting – a simple call for a pizza on a rainy day – could change an entire life.

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #bangtansummerbingo #taekook #smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung x jungkook #jungkook x taehyung #jeongguk x taehyung #jungkook x v #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #mywriting

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auroracalisto · 4 years

Text

oh god, i want to feel again

summary: using the prompt “stay alive for me.” from this list here. the reader is the only other survivor from their little friend group, save for brooke. all alone with friends who truly couldn’t care about her, she finds herself back at camp redwood.

pairing: xavier x reader

word count: 2.4k words

warnings: death, dead body mentions, no important deaths, mentions of suicidal thoughts, implied depression, implied anxiety, shitty friends

a/n: i love 1984 so much. like. stop me from writing about it. please. i loved writing every word for this. also like???? don’t ask about the title. i realize the sentence prompt has nothing to to with sleeping at last’s touch but it’s fine. it’s fine.

You never should have let your friends talk you into going back to Camp Redwood. And yet, you stood near them as the fawned over the scenery. You couldn’t help but notice that it really was a beautiful place—it was just as beautiful as it had been when you had been there last. But this place made you more nervous than you would like to admit. Just thinking about everything that had happened made you want to cry. But your friends told you they would be quick. They just wanted to take a look around, maybe check out the cabins.

However, you knew better. Going to Camp Redwood was never something good. Coming back to the damned place was a death wish—and your past self would have hit you for being so stupid to come back.

It had only taken an hour for your friends to leave your side. But you weren’t surprised. They were never really good “friends.” In fact, the closest one to you out of the group once told you that the others were only friends with you for publicity. Being the only other survivor out of your friends, save for Brooke, you were like a little legend in your town. You knew it hadn’t been Brooke. But it was your word against everything.

You missed her. She had been a good friend. All of your friends had been. Chet, Ray, Montana. And Xavier. Oh, God, did you miss Xavier.

There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t think of the blonde haired jazzercise instructor. It hurt your heart to know that he was gone forever, taken by the very thing that made your “friends” fangirl. On your way up to the camp, you swore you heard them talking about the Night Stalker. It sent you into a memory that you couldn’t stand remembering. Perhaps you should have just asked them to drop you off at the gas station and then pick you up later. It would have been easier that way.

It was 1987. Three years after the massacre of your friends, and three years after you barely made it out of Camp Redwood alive.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of the dock, staring out at the lake. The water was dark and murky—not how you remembered. But it had been quite a few years since you were last here. You didn’t know what else could have happened. You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut.

You wanted to leave. That was the first thing that came to mind. Just moments after the thought ran through your head, you felt something brush against your foot.

Your heart leapt to your throat.

Scrambling to your feet, and suppressing your scream, you looked down at the water and saw a bloated body. They had obviously been in the water for some time. You took a couple steps back, your hands gripping at your shirt. But that’s when you saw it. A flash of two blonde heads in the corner of your eye, standing by one of the cabins. None of your friends were blonde.

You blinked and almost thought that you were just crazy—but then you saw it. That outfit. The blues and whites and that signature coat. Were you crazy?

You didn’t know. Even so, your feet started moving before you could stop them. In a matter of seconds, you were running. Through the mud, through the roots that sprung up from the cold ground, through the tree limbs that continued to snag your shirt. However, you didn’t care. If that was who you thought it was, it didn’t matter if you hurt yourself or scratched up your outfit. It was okay.

You reached the area you had thought you saw him—the girls’ cabin. That’s where you had hung out during the short time you were there. The sight of the log building made you sick to your stomach. This whole trip made you sick.

If only you had listened to your gut feeling and passed up your friends invite, then you wouldn’t be standing here, questioning your sanity.

But then you heard a voice.

“[Your name]?”

Not just any voice—Xavier’s voice.

You quickly spun around; your eyes were wide. You saw him standing there, all alone. He gave you an incredulous look before Xavier wasted no time in rushing over to you. He wrapped his arms around you, one of his hands resting on the back of your head.

“What—what,” you breathed out, quickly hugging him back. “What the hell? You’re dead,” you spoke, burying your face in his chest. “You’re supposed to be dead. Why are you here?”

Xavier chuckled softly. “I’m a ghost, [Your name].” He slightly pulled back to look down at you. “God, I never thought I’d see you again. Why are you here?”

“My… my friends—”

Before you could finish, a scream erupted through the trees, sending birds flying into the blue sky.

You pulled back, looking over your shoulder. “My friends brought me here…”

Xavier rose an eyebrow.

“What’s going on?” you asked, shaking your head. You paid no mind to the scream—a part of you didn’t care what happened, as awful as that sounded. The other part of you ached to go and help them, but you couldn’t. Xavier was standing in front of you.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“How are you—how are you here? You’re a ghost...?”

He smiled softly, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Yes.”

“That’s so vague,” you huffed, noticing a smear of blood on his cheek. You reached forward, your thumb rubbing it off. You frowned up at him. “How the hell are you still here?” you repeated.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “All of us. We’re all here. Well, save for you and Brooke,” he hesitantly smiled.

You blinked slowly, furrowing your eyebrows. “You’re all still here?” you asked, unable to stop your tears from forming. “Xavier, I—I never thought I’d see you again. And you’re telling me everyone’s still here?”

“You’re taking this pretty well,” he snorted softly.

“Yeah, well, you would to when you realize that all your friends are still here, and you didn’t watch them all die,” you said, taking in a deep breath.

“Well, you did—”

“—you know what I mean, Xav.”

The blonde began to smile at you. “I really never expected to see you again,” he said, giving you another tight hug. “Why did you come with them…?”

“Closure?” you questioned your own answer, hugging him back. “A chance to… to come to peace with what happened?”

“You sure as hell aren’t getting that,” he let out a laugh, not stopping himself from kissing the top of your head.

You froze up, but you never once stopped him.

“It’s only been three years, X,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’ve lived… three hell-filled years without you guys. I miss you so much,” you said. You swallowed thickly, completely pulling back from the man. “I… Brooke was sentenced. They are convinced she did it,” you spoke.

Xavier pursed his lips, and he took ahold of your hand. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I… I just… I miss you. I miss you guys so much, Xavier. You have no idea.”

“Is that why you came?” Xavier softly asked, looking over you. “To… be closer?”

Your eyes widened a bit. You hadn’t thought of it like that. But maybe, subconsciously, that’s what was going on. Your mind knew that it was a way to be closer to your friends. You never expected that you would literally get closer to them, in every way possible.

“You make a good point,” you said, sniffling softly.

Xavier grinned, leaning forward to cup your cheeks. “You look hot for a twenty-six-year-old,” he said.

You slapped his hand away, unable to stop your cheeks from growing warm. “It’s been three years, not a fucking decade.”

His smile only grew. “You do, though.”

You sniffled again, looking up at him. “You… I really never thought I’d see you again. I can’t believe you’re here, Xav. I…. It’s so hard to live without you.”

He frowned and leaned forward, kissing your forehead again. You closed your eyes as his lips lingered.

“I know. But you can’t stay here. There’s nothing here that would support someone who’s alive. You need to go back home, get back to your life.”

“Xavier, I don’t have a life,” you frowned. “I work, I come home, and I try to ignore the people who brought me here.”

“So, they’re not your friends?” a female voice came from behind you.

You quickly spun around, spotting a blood-covered Montana. You could hardly breathe. You let go of Xavier and rushed over to the girl, tightly hugging onto her.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, tears forming in your eyes again. You silently cursed yourself for your constant waterworks—but your emotions were all over the place.

“Uh, definitely not God,” she laughed, hugging you back. “God, [Your name], why the hell are you here? You look hot,” she grinned.

“Hey, back off, I already told her that,” Xavier scoffed.

Montana just smiled, pulling back. You noticed that your clothes were now bloody, but you honestly didn’t care. You reached up, wiping your tears away.

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe you guys are actually here. Are you sure I’m not just crazy? And making this all up in my head?”

Xavier smiled and took your hand. “We’re here.”

You lost track of time. When you finally looked out the dusty cabin window, the moon was peaked high in the sky.

You looked over at your friends, not knowing what to say. You didn’t want to leave them, again. You couldn’t leave them again.

You reached forward and took Xavier’s hand, dragging him out of his conversation with Chet.

“Can we talk?”

Xavier smiled back at you and nodded. He hadn’t been this happy about anything, for some time. He couldn’t believe that you were here. He never thought that he would see you again—and you were the one person that he would have done anything for, save for himself.

The two of you stood outside of the edge of the cabin steps. Xavier leaned against the railing and you found yourself sitting down on the top of the staircase.

“I… I can’t leave you guys. Not again. I’ve got nothing out there for me—”

Xavier’s face fell as he heard you. “No. I know what you want. You’re not doing that. No way in hell. You’re the only one of us who survived, you need to keep on living—”

“—I only survived because you guys all died before I escaped,” you said, your bottom lip quivering. “Xavier, I can’t function without you guys. I can’t—I can’t do anything without thinking about all of you.”

“You will, eventually,” Xavier said, sending you a soft smile. He leaned forward and grabbed your hands. “You’ll be able to.”

“When, X? When I’m on my eightieth birthday?” you questioned.

He snickered softly and kissed your cheek. “You know that’s not true. You’ll be okay. You need to go home, [Your name]. You know that we’re here. You can visit any time you want to. Stay alive for me.”

“But I’ll continue to age. And you’ll all stay here, exactly the same.”

Xavier grinned. “Well, you continue to age. Get a spouse. Make some babies. Come and see us when you have the time.”

He was trying to talk you out of it. He didn’t want you dead—if you died, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself (metaphorically, of course). He had protected you until his last breath, and he would do it again. Even if it meant sending you away, no matter how much he would have rather had you there.

“I’ll continue to age, X. But I’m not ever gonna marry. And I won’t ever have kids.”

“Why not?” Xavier asked, brows furrowed.

“Because the one person I wanted that with is here.”

He stopped for a moment, letting go of your hands. “What?” he tilted his head, watching you. “Who?”

“You, you idiot,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “I didn’t want to come back here because I thought that I would find things of yours. I didn’t expect your whole damn ghost. I don’t want to age. I don’t want to just marry someone. I wanted to marry you,” you said, choking back a sob with an awkward cough. “I wanted to date you, I wanted to fall in love with you even more than I already loved you. You dying made me realize that I would never have that. I would never love anyone as much as I love you, Xavier.”

Xavier didn’t say anything, watching you intently.

“I’ve mourned you every damn day. I—I’ve wondered, why did this happen? Why couldn’t I have just died with you? And I nearly did it. Several times, Xavier. I would have done it again,” you said, staring him down. “If I came here and saw that you… you still had things here. If I saw your blood or that—that damned horror oven. I… I would have done it.”

Xavier quickly took your hands again. “Stop it. Stop talking like that. [Your name]…”

“And see? You don’t even love me back,” you said, finally letting out a sob. “You’ve stared at me this whole time, and said noth—”

You were cut off by cold lips pressing against yours. But just as soon as you had been interrupted, you started kissing him back. You were still crying—all of your pent-up exhaustion and rage releasing with your tears.

Xavier slightly pulled back, his forehead pressing against yours. “I… I love you, too, [Your name].”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Xavier leaned forward and wiped your falling tears away.

“The only way you can stay here… is if you die.”

You took in a deep breath, looking up and locking eyes with the blonde. “I’ll do anything I have to. I just can’t leave. Not again.”

Xavier sadly smiled, unable to stop his own tears from forming. “Alright, then. I won’t stop you,” he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “How… how do you wanna go? It’s your choice.”

“I…”

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chicksung · 4 years

Text

The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au

Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning/s: small argument, food

Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header!

Networks: @nctnetwrite @nct-writers @kpopscape @neoturtles @neoswitchnet

Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol

First meeting

First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.

You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.

“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face.

“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.

“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions.

“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else.

“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.

“What’s your name?”

The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade)

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you.

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.”

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead.

Then he looked at you.

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.”

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym.

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head.

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out.

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source.

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion.

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you.

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said.

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!”

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache.

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier.

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet.

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing.

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him.

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park.

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers.

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign.

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand.

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him.

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts.

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity.

“What-”

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod.

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself.

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you.

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building.

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately.

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend.

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles.

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet.

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual.

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face.

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world.

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung.

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller.

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago.

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two.

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision.

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this?

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe.

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape.

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled.

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face.

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips.

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck.

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in.

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum.

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer.

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe.

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last

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