#and if you’re still reading this far into the tags congratulations. there are drinking games

[rosaacicularis]

i just thought of probably the most homoerotic fanfic scene like ever and i think i might just fit it into the hockey au….

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️

Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.

FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.

“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.

“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”

Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”

Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.

It was different.

It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.

Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.

It was all very civilized.

And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.

“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.

“Might be a little old for you, champ.”

Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.

“Other end of the bar!”

Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.

“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?

“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”

Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.

Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.

Not with Nesta Archeron.

Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.

This would be fun to watch.

Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.

Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.

He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.

After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.

Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.

Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.

Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.

She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.

Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.

After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.

Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.

Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.

She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.

“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”

Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.

“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”

Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”

Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”

“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.

“What’d you say to him?”

Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”

Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.

“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.

“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”

“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”

“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”

Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”

“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.

Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”

Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”

“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”

“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”

“So, the Suncurser merger.”

Nesta looked up. “How did you-”

“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”

“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“

“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”

“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.

Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”

Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”

Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”

***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***

Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.

[kaihavoc]

Cloud 29

a/n: inspired by my new two favorite videos: this and this one

Lingering just outside the Chelsea locker room, I wait until I see the last person leave. Well, second to last. Christian passes me by with a toothy grin, telling me to “take good care” of my boyfriend tonight because he earned it. Laughing nervously, I just give him a polite wave, acting like he didn’t just give me that advice, and sneak inside the locker room. There’s only one person who hasn’t burst through the doors and come out to join the festivities. The superstar––the hero––of today’s match. Kai Havertz. 

I know Kai; he’s got to be swirling with composed excitement, taking his time to revel in this momentous occasion without the chaos of overexcited screams and cheers. I can just imagine his humble smile, those crinkles rippling across his cheeks, that endearing overbite he’s always been so insecure about. The mere thought of him puts a smile on my face. 

I only need to take a few steps when I see him. Considering he’s the only person left in the locker room, he wasn’t that hard to find. I pause in my tracks, absorbing the sight of him: sweaty, shirtless, head down with his back against the metal locker. I make no noise, but he must sense a presence because his head snaps up. Our eyes meet, and his face lights up as he bounds over to me, tackling me in a hug. He towers over me, but that doesn’t stop him from practically leaping into my arms. Yeah, as if I have the upper body strength to carry him. Sometimes I think he forgets I’m not as physically fit as his teammates.

I open my mouth, about to congratulate him, but the dullness in his blue eyes stops me. Something’s off. He’s happy to see me, that’s clear, but, otherwise, he’s not as ecstatic as I thought he would be. Why isn’t he? Not only did his team win the Champions League, but he scored the winning goal. His first goal of the Champions League, no less––he went out with a bang. He should be over the moon. 

“You look festive,” Kai comments, playfully tugging on one of my pigtails. I wanted to try something new, so I had tied my long hair into pigtails with two royal blue ribbons. Aside from that, I’m just in my typical outfit I wear whenever he plays a game: one of his old jerseys that he gave me when we first started dating and black leggings. I had considered spicing things up by painting Kai’s initials on my cheeks with blue face paint, but when I brought the idea up to him over dinner last week, he just said he knew a better method to brand me as his. I left it at that without inquiring further, even though I was curious by what, exactly, he had in mind. 

“You look… hot,” I gulp, my eyes traveling down his long, toned torso. No matter how many times I’ve seen him shirtless after a practice or a game, or in only a towel after a shower, I’ll never get tired of seeing him half-naked. Or fully naked, at that. 

“You look hot, too,” he murmurs into my hair, still embracing me tightly. “I just didn’t want to say that because I was trying to be gentlemanly.” Cupping my face with his large hands, he proceeds to kiss me, feverish and rough. He nips at my bottom lip and doesn’t even wait for me to open my mouth before invading it, battling my tongue with his. His ferocity gets my blood pumping and the pit of my stomach tingling, but it’s all wrong. I’m necessarily complaining, but this isn’t how he usually greets me. He typically welcomes me with a soft, delicate kiss before anything else. Is this because I haven’t congratulated him on his win yet? 

“I’m so proud of you, Kai. You and the guys really deserve this,” I say sincerely, but he pretends like he doesn’t hear me, going in for another attack on my mouth. To that, I shrink a little and he catches on, sighing as he takes a step back, his thick eyebrows furrowed together. I notice that the ribbons in my hair are loose, so I quickly readjust them as I try to read Kai’s expression. He still looks… dissatisfied. Maybe some ego boosting would do the trick? 

“Everyone’s raving about how you’re a tactical genius. How your skill and precision are unparalleled. How you’re on top and you haven’t even reached your peak yet,” I ramble, trying to recall every headline I’ve ever read in the news this past week. Oh, and also, you’ve got the cutest bum out of any football player in the history of football.  

“Not everyone,” he growls in a dark voice, messing up his curly brown locks by snatching them with his hand. His face twists with irritation. “Right after the game, a reporter came up to me and asked me if I thought I finally paid back my hefty price tag.” 

“And how did you respond?” I ask, curious. Usually he doesn’t get so riled up over post-game interviews, but perhaps his transfer fee is a touchy subject for him and he just never told me. In an attempt to calm him down a bit, I take his hand into mine and lead him to a section of the bench lined along the lockers. We sit so that we’re facing each other, and I weave my legs around his torso, nearly straddling him. But not quite.

“I think I said… ‘I don’t give a fuck of that. We just won the fucking Champions League’,” he says slowly, his nose scrunched up in concentration as he recalls his response.

I stifle a laugh. His cussing is not a regular occurrence, it’s not entirely uncommon either, but whenever he does curse, it catches me off guard. Maybe it has something to do with that pretty face of his, as if foul language shouldn’t be coming from it. “You’re right; you did just win the Champions League, so you shouldn’t be hard on yourself,” I say, lightly poking him in the bicep. He doesn’t seem to appreciate my stab at lighthearted reassurance, so I go for a different approach. Tough love. “Okay, fine. Chelsea may have paid a lot of money for you, but that’s because you’re worth it, Kai. You don’t have to prove your abilities to anyone––even though you already proved them tonight plus your whole career thus far. People are always going to have something negative to say, but you put in the work and it shows in every game. Don’t let anyone get to you, especially not a reporter; they’re just trying to get some dirt.” I’m not used to giving pep talks, so I’m not sure if I did it right.

I must’ve done something right because his frown is replaced with a slight smile. “Thank you, baby,” he says, pecking me on the cheek. One Kai’s best qualities is that not much gets to him; and if it does, it doesn’t take him long to get over it. Annoying interview question long forgotten, he traces patterns on my thigh and tells me, “The boys are going to a nightclub tonight to celebrate our win. Come with me.” To aid in his plea, he grabs both of my hands, squeezing them, his pale blue eyes gleaming with hope.

“A nightclub?” I repeat, making a sour face. “You know better than anyone that I don’t belong at a nightclub.” I want to suggest just a cozy night in, watching his favorite film of the Harry Potter series, Goblet of Fire, and cuddling, but I don’t want to take this celebratory night with his friends away from him.

“You belong with me, and it just so happens that tonight I’m being dragged to a nightclub,” he says. I don’t say anything, and his face falls, presumably because he recognizes his bid to get me to go is a lost cause.  

“You go,” I encourage, trying to sound upbeat as I pat his thigh. “Have your fun.”

“Really?” he asks. “Are you sure?” He gives me a dubious look, one eyebrow severely cocked. 

I squint at him quizzically. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looks me dead in the eyes. “Babe. Let’s not forget what happened the last time I went out for drinks with the team for Timo’s birthday. I came back home with a ripped shirt because a bunch of girls pounced on us, and you wouldn’t talk to me for a whole week. You didn’t believe me.”

“That’s because it’s an unbelievable story,” I mumble.

“You accused me of hooking up with another girl,” he reminds me, his mesmerizing eyes narrowing at me, causing my cheeks to heat up and my skin to crawl with guilt. Now that he’s mentioned it, I do remember that incident. Vividly. It happened around the beginning of our relationship, when I still didn’t know how serious Kai was about me, about us. Regardless, I should’ve known that Kai would never be unfaithful to me. That’s simply not who he is. He has never once given me an inkling of a doubt of his loyalty. I blame my foolish allegation on my insecurity over our blossoming relationship, but I’m long past that… 

“You’re too friendly, Kai,” I sigh, ruffling his hair to make it seem more like a concern and less like an accusation. “It makes girls think they can have a chance with you.”

“Girls?” Kai scoffs, shaking his head in pure denial. How can someone so intelligent be such a dumb boy sometimes? “What girls? That happened one time, and it wasn’t only me who got jumped. The whole team did.” Like that makes the situation any better, Kai.

“I’m not dating the whole team! I’m dating you, and you’re only going to get bigger and I… I just want you all to myself,” I admit. My head falls, weighted by a vicious mix of embarrassment and shame. 

“Well, I know something that’s big that you can have all to yourself,” he says coyly, with a self-righteous smirk.

“I’m serious, Kai,” I say, frowning at him in return. “You’re young, talented, attractive. Girls are going to be lining up for you, and soon I’ll just be chopped liver.”

“Chopped liver?” he hoots, obviously unfamiliar with the expression. 

My frown deepens as I huff, “You’re going to forget all about me.”

“I think if anyone’s guilty of forgetting anything, it’s you. You’re already forgetting that I’m in love with you,” he coos, sliding closer to me, dusting my neck and collarbones with soft-lipped kisses.

“Get away from me. You’re all sweaty,” I complain––mostly so as to not give into his seduction techniques too easily––but it’s half-hearted.

“You’re about to be, too,” he growls, lifting me and dropping me on his lap. I can feel him harden underneath me, and I respond by rocking my body against his, inciting staggered, tense moans from the both of us at the same time. The sounds that come out of his mouth are music to my ears. With a hunger to hear more, I reach in between us, stroking his length through his thin shorts, loving how fully aroused he gets at my slight touch. His breathing quickens, but when I don’t hear anything from him, I look at him, witnessing his bottom lip in between his teeth, suppressing those sweet moans I so desperately want to hear him make. 

Suddenly, he’s tugging at my leggings; he’s so aggressive that I’m afraid he’s going to rip them. After he shimmies them off, I kick them to the side, and Kai’s eyes ravage the bottom half of my body. I’m thankful I had the good foresight to wear lace panties instead of my go-to granny panties, but at this point they’re drenched. They have been ever since I walked in and saw Kai; just one look at him does unspeakable things to me. His ability to reduce me to a mere puddle with just his eyes is unnerving. 

He removes my shirt and purses his lips when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra. My chest is ample-sized, but I can comfortably go without a bra––often doing just that––and it drives him mad. He says I shouldn’t go prancing around braless because I’ll be practically naked when ogling guys undress me with their eyes. I say that doesn’t make sense.

He yanks his shorts and boxers down in one swoop, and the heat between my legs intensifies. If his massive hands and long fingers were any indication of what he has to offer, the blanks fill themselves out––he’s glorious. I can’t help but gawk and admire him; Kai is perfect in every singular way. If I had no self-control, I’d lick every inch of his pale skin. I lower myself onto him and gasp with pleasure when just the tip enters me. Slowly, I bounce up and down on him, each time driving him deeper inside me until he fills me completely. My head rolls back as I continue the rhythmic movement, and I moan when he licks a stripe in the valley between my breasts. My fingers tangle themselves in his curly locks as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking on it while tinkering with the other between his fingertips.

“Oh, Kai,” I whine, feeling the intolerable pressure building up in my stomach.

“That’s it, baby,” Kai purrs against my chest as I tighten around him. “Say my name. Just like that.”

“K-Kai––” I cry, quivering against his body; my vision is blurry and I’ve lost function in my legs. Kai’s taken over, his fingers digging into my hips, thrusting into me, hitting my most sensitive spot time after time. I’m on the verge of seeing stars when it all stops. Before my brain can process what’s happening, I’m balancing on all fours on the bench as Kai positions himself behind me, his erection rubbing against me. With one thrust, he buries himself inside me, reaching around to rub my clit in a slow circular motion. I was not prepared for that. The combination of sensations is enough to drive me over the edge, but what drives me even crazier is the heat as he presses his firm chest up against my back.

“Who do you belong to?” he demands in my ear, humming. I tune him out, focusing on getting my fix and nothing more. I can barely get his name out, what makes him think I can have a coherent conversation? “I don’t like being ignored,” he warns sharply.

My arms and legs are shaky, and the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the floor are his hands, holding me steady as he rolls his hips. “You,” I finally breathe.

“Dunno who that is,” he drawls, and I could swear he’s purposely applying more pressure to his accent just to mock me.

“You. Kai,” I hiss and close my eyes to try to block him out, but that only heightens my senses to everything he’s doing to me.

“Kai who? There are many Kais,” he says matter-of-factly. His fingers slow down around my sensitive area, and I’m afraid he’s going to withhold euphoria from me.

“Kai––fucking––Havertz,” I half moan, half gasp as his fingers pick up their pace and he slams into me, the final push that sends me soaring into bliss. I never cuss unless I have a really good reason for it and lashing my frustration out on the infuriating tease that is Kai Havertz is a good enough reason for me. However, he makes up for his devilish nature by understanding every nook and cranny of my body. On cloud nine, I ride out the high to the fullest extent before my body goes fully limp. I suck in a breath when he pulls out, only to feel the warm liquid on my back coming in spurts.

“Fuck,” he moans, and I just wish I could watch him as he comes undone. I think it’s hot when he releases his load on me––I like it best when he does it on my chest. So I can marvel at him with his sweat-matted hair, throbbing Adam’s apple, and fluttering eyelids. He wipes my back with his/my jersey and pulls me into his lap. 

“The way you moan my name, I’ll never be able to forget you,” he sighs, nibbling on my neck.

“How romantic,” I tease. But really, I’d be content calling out only his name for the rest of my life. Kai fucking Havertz.

“C’mon, baby, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, rising to his feet cheerfully. His fingers lace in mine as he starts for the shower stalls. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as my feet pad excitedly across the tile floor alongside him. Another great quality about Kai: his stamina is unmatched, on and off the football field.

*a/n: if you do by chance read this, I’d love to know what you think of it!

[jentrevellan]

I'm so happy to finally share my fic for @dasmutquisition! I had so much fun with this one, it's unreal. I hope you enjoyed @sumiIong

Rating: Explicit

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins

Relationship: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)

Characters: Alistair (Dragon Age), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Teagan Guerrin

Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Making Love, trapped together (sort of), strong woman, anxious Alistair, generic Cousland, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, newlyweds, Morning Sex, D in the V, Porn With Plot, Dorks in Love

Language: English

Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition

Summary: Alistair and the Warden spend the first night not only as husband and wife but as King and Queen.

Notes: Thank you @curiousthimble for being my beta!

Read on Ao3

Doin' the Fondue

The great hall in Denerim Castle was loud and filled to the rafters with people. Nobles, elves, dwarves and peasants alike were squeezed in, all clamouring to see the newly married couple. Up on the dais, overlooking the crowd that was slowly getting rowdier and rowdier with the ale and wine that continued to flow, Alistair - now King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden - slouched in his throne and took a gulp of wine.

He was terrified.

Oh, the ceremony had been a delight, and he had adored proclaiming his love in front of the Maker and the witnesses in the Chantry. But as soon as he had stepped into the hall for their wedding feast, his gut started churning. Because he knew what must come next after the merriment had ended.

He glanced at his wife beside him. His wife! Despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool at the thought of his Grey Warden companion, Lady Cousland, now being his wife. It didn’t seem wholly real. Indeed, most of his life the past year hadn’t seemed real. So much had changed, and now he was married.

Alistair took another sip of wine from his goblet and his new wife glanced at him, a small frown on her brow. She already knows me so well, he thought. No one else would be able to tell that anything was amiss, but she had always seen straight through him and knew when even the smallest thing was bothering him. One of the many traits he loved about her. Although it did mean that it was impossible to keep any sort of secret from her. Even the good kind of secrets.

As he picked at his food, his new wife and Queen accepted many gracious gifts from guests. All curtsied or bowed and she was most eloquent in her response. Truly, she was more prepared for this life as a monarch than him. Her noble upbringing was a far cry from how he was raised. But wherever his trepidation lay about ruling, he knew that with this woman beside him as his Queen, that he could do anything.

She laughed heartily at a joke Teagan was telling her, and he watched as she wiped away a tear. Alistair glowered at his uncle and reached out for his wife’s hand. She turned to him, a wide smile on her face, her cheeks flushed and her lips rosy from the wine.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

He nodded his head to Teagan. “Just wondering what was so funny…?”

She blushed prettily, and a jealous hand gripped his gut. He would not easily forget his uncle’s flirtations when he had first met them in Redcliffe, and ever since, a fit of strange jealousy and need to claim her as he always came about when he was in the presence of both her and Tegan.

Waving a jewelled hand, she shook her head. “It was nothing. Rather crude, actually, so I told him off for lowering the tone of our conversation at our wedding feast,” she replied, taking a sip of wine. “Now what’s the matter with you?”

“Me?” he repeated. “Nothing. Nothing is the matter with me at all. Absolutely nought.”

“Alistair,” she said seriously, leaning in close. Her tone made him want to listen, but her golden gown with its tight bodice had pressed her breasts pleasantly together and were well within his eye line that he couldn’t help but glance down. A treacherous blaze of desire coursed through him, and with her puckered lips, her brow furrowed in concern, he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and -

A chill went through him. He wanted her, oh yes, most desperately, but Tegan caught his eye and winked, and a shudder of repulsion went through him as he turned his head to see half of the court watching their interaction. He pulled away from his wife abruptly and reached for his goblet of wine, again and took a huge mouthful.

Ever the gracious lady, his wife smiled faintly and pretended that nothing had happened. But the look she quietly gave him as he peered at her over the rim of his goblet made his gut clench with guilt. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and he felt rotten about being the cause.

The dinner continued and as the servants were generous with topping up his wine, Alistair kept emptying his goblet. His wife, on the other hand, declined and stuck to watery lemonade and with dread, he realised that she was not drinking the same as him because it was expected that she needed to stay sober to conceive.

It was like a weight was pressing down on his chest, and he struggled to breathe, and it was getting worse as the evening wore on. Soon he stopped eating and drinking and just watched everybody that approached the dais to offer their congratulations or present gifts to the newlyweds. One item that was given to the new Queen was a selection of herbs which, as the kindly elderly noble had explained “would help the womb quicken”. Alistair had almost retched at her words, and instead began a small coughing fit, which required his wife to smack him firmly on the back a few times harder than she would’ve done normally.

At one point, a small child approached, dressed in a simple cotton tunic, as white as a cloud. Her hair was braided down her back and entwined with flowers. She stood before the queen who rose from her throne and leant over the table to adjust a flower in the girl’s hair. Alistair watched as his wife’s face lit up with warmth as she listened and spoke to the child. He wanted to give that to her. But… but…

“Let us bed them!” Tegan suddenly announced, and there was a scramble as the court got to their feet hurriedly, to be one of the select few to follow them to their chambers. The women reached the queen and she shot Alistair one swift look of alarm before resigning herself to their insistent tugs as they all but pushed her out of the room. Alistair followed with a group of noblemen, including his uncle.

“I bet you’re looking forward to this, m'boy,” Tegan grinned, falling into step beside Alistair, as they made their way through the halls of the castle.

“I don't know what you mean,” he replied flatly, his face feeling warm not just from the wine.

Tegan clapped him on the back. “You are one lucky man, my boy,” he said with a sigh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so quiet in all the time I’ve known you. Your mind has been elsewhere this evening - and I’m not the only one to notice.”

Dread tugged at him as he climbed the stairs. “Yes, you’re right and I’m sorry, but-”

“Sorry!” Tegan repeated with a snort. “You’ve no need to be sorry. Most men are as quiet as a mouse in anticipation of their wedding night. And one can’t certainly blame you: your wife is simply lovely.”

“Yes, thank you, Tegan,” Alistair ground out, shrugging his shoulder lose of his grip. But rather than be offended, the man laughed and Alistair clenched his fists. Never before had he been so tempted to knock his uncle around the head.

They arrived at his chamber door and inside more nobles awaited eagerly. The king’s bed had been arranged neatly, but there was no expectation for him to sleep there tonight. Instead, he eyed the connecting door where he knew his wife would be waiting for him, surrounded by the noblewomen.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked, looking around the room, but the men just laughed, and chatted, some making obscene gestures. He grimaced, hating the sheer manliness in the room. His manservant came forward to help him undress from his finery and removed his crown. Once he had been disrobed save for his smalls, he threw on his white cotton nightshirt and ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow.

There was a faint knock at the connecting door, and one of the servants hurried forward and exchanged whispers with the servant on the other side. Alistair paced anxiously and took a very keen interest in a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. The men around him were talking about absolute filth, and he squeezed his eye tight shut, in the vain hope that his ears would squeeze shut too.

Finally, the connecting door swung open and the servant stood aside. Alistair was rooted to the spot, fear coursing through him. Are these people… going to watch ? He thought with horror.

He was quite content with where he was until Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. “Nervous?” he said with a wink.

“Yes. No! I mean, no !” he said hurriedly, his face burning.

“There’s nothing to be scared about. She’s going to be a wonderful wife to you in so many ways…”

“Shut up,” Alistair groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. Honestly, he was this close to hurling Tegan out the window.

But before he could entertain that thought further, the men in his room were pressing him through the door and - oh Maker no - were also following him. He entered the queen's bed-chamber to find a gaggle of ladies with rosy cheeks flutter their lashes and lick their lips seductively at the men. But Alistair was anything but aroused when he finally turned to the large, four-poster bed, to see his wife and queen.

She was a perfect painting of innocence and virginity in crisp white sheets with a matching white nightdress. Her hair had been unbound and combed neatly and she sat as still as a statue, her back and posture absolutely perfect for a queen. The covers were pulled up to her lap, and her hands rested delicately entwined: her sparkling wedding ring the only jewellery that remained.

He refused to meet her eyes as he slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. He pulled the covers down amidst the chatting of the court and when he finally sat beside her, a good arms-length away from her, the court finally - finally - turned to leave. Several clapped, the women exchanged knowing looks with the queen, who smiled politely in return, and the men, now incredibly drunk, ambled from the room, wishing Alastair luck and reminding him of how lucky he was.

Finally, blessedly, the last person left the room and closed the door with a gentle click .

☆☆☆☆☆

To the new queen’s dismay, the first thing her new husband did as soon as the door had shut, was leap out of the bed as if he had been scalded. She frowned as he strode towards the door, and for an awful moment, she thought he was going to leave. But no: he reached to a small side table and found a key and locked the big oak door to her chambers, followed by locking the conjoining door from the king’s bedroom.

Still not saying anything, Alistar strode around the room, pulling open curtains and wardrobes, trunks and cabinets.

“What in the world are you doing?” she finally asked, her patience running thin. The man had barely spoken to her since their vows in the Chantry in the morning, and now he was examining every nook and cranny of her chambers?

He paused by her bookshelf and flicked her a glance over his shoulder. “Checking,” he replied, before shifting a few books.

“Whatever for?”

He sighed in exasperation. “To make sure that we are alone! Andraste’s arse, I thought they were going to stay at one point and watch to make sure we… we… erm…” he coughed and busied himself by peering under a chaise lounge.

She got out of bed and dropped to her hands and knees and looked under the bed. Thankfully, there was no one there, but she had to admit that the same fear had crossed her mind. Even though she knew that wasn’t the common practice, sometimes nobility did take things a bit too literally…

“We’re safe,” she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.”There’s no spy, no peephole, no nothing but us.”

Alistair finally stopped his fidgeting and turned to her from across the room. For the first time in a long time, they were utterly alone. Normally, they would’ve fallen into each other’s arms by now, but something was stopping her, and she could tell that something was also stopping him. They stood on opposite sides of her room, the bed imposing and glaring at them, whilst the distance between them felt as vast a chasm. And that was something neither of them had experienced before.

“Everything is different now, isn’t it?” she said quietly, looking down at her hands clasped before her.

Alistair also seemed to be studying his fingernails. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

She played with the hem of her pure white night-dress and frowned. Conversation with her now-husband had never been this stilted. So she switched tactic to one he would hopefully relax with: humour.

“You know, for a good ten minutes, I honestly thought they were all going to stay and watch,” she said with a wry smile. She knew they wouldn't - being brought up as a noble lady had earnt her some education in these things - but Alistair needed not to know that. For it worked:

“Maker! You did too?” he exclaimed, letting out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t think they would, but I began to doubt myself.”

She took a step towards him. “Hence your paranoia about spies?”

He nodded. “Yes, hence the… paranoia ,” he rolled his eyes at her choice of words, but there was a smirk on his lips, which made her heart soar.

The man she knew was peeking through, so she took another step closer. “It’s an archaic tradition anyway,” she said. “I know for a fact that they do not practice it in Orlais.”

Alistair snorted. “Perhaps the only redeeming factor of the Orlesians.”

“Hmm, that and the cheese,” she smiled and finally, finally , her new husband met her eyes.

They both burst into laughter and she saw his shoulders sag. She bit her lip and placed a hand on his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don't want to,” she said earnestly.

His face reddened. “But I do! I do want to! With you, that is! I just… it’s just…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he sought out the right words.

“The pressure of it all?” she supplied.

“Yes!” he gasped, relieved. “To know that we cannot come together unless it’s for a purpose. That purpose,” he mumbled, pointing to her stomach.

He was going inside himself again, so she took his hands in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Think of it this way… it’s for the good of the country that you fuck me senseless any time of day and night.”

Alistair spluttered at her bluntness but she just laughed as she slipped her hands from his and moved past him. There was a small table laden with food - to help keep up their energy for their excursions, no doubt - so she helped herself to a goblet of wine and poured one for her new husband. “You’re probably one of the only men in the world who can use that excuse,” she smiled, popping a grape in her mouth.

“You…” he grinned, walking over and taking the other goblet from her hand. “You are a minx.”

She pretended to be shocked. “You’ve only just realised? And here I thought you only married me because you knew I was.”

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled him to her, kissing the top of her head. “One of many, many many reasons,” he replied.

They stood content in silence, their thoughts elsewhere when she finally spoke again. “I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything we’re expected to do tonight.”

He gulped but nodded. “I… I know. And I appreciate that, but please don’t think it’s because I don’t want... need you,” he said quietly, his grip on her tightening.

“It’s not like we’ve not done it before,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “Even if this gown pretends to be evidence to the contrary.”

“Yes, and we have done it, many, many times…”

“And we will many more,” she confirmed, popping another grape in her mouth, the sweetness washing over her tongue. She turned to him: “but not tonight.”

“Thank the Maker I married you,” he murmured, downing the rest of his wine.

“But I do have a wicked idea…”

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

“We should take all of this food and eat it… in bed.”

He laughed, so genuine and delightful that her gut warmed pleasantly. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, his other hand grabbing the cheese board and marched over to the bed. He threw her down, and she tried to not be too aroused by the action, but her pert nipples through her night-dress gave her away. Determined to make sure Alistair was as happy as could be, she reached forward and pulled him onto the bed and instead of kissing him, grabbed a handful of cheese and squashed it into his mouth.

The King of Ferelden snorted with laughter as he tried to eat the cheese, before doing the same back at his new queen. He pecked her on the nose and rose to collect more food and wine, and soon they were sitting leaning against the headboard, a delectable spread of food between them. And they gorged.

☆☆☆☆☆

The sun peered through the lattice windows of the queen’s chamber. The light was white and bright and brought Alistair blinking out of his deep slumber, momentarily confused at his location. He looked up at the canopy above him and duly noted the olive green drapes of the Queen’s bed. He’d never slept in here and was momentarily disoriented until he remembered the day before.

In his arms, still and sound asleep, was his wife. Her hair was splayed on the pillow and tickled his nose. He couldn’t see her face, but today it felt more real: this woman who had become his friend and companion, lover and hero of Ferelden, was now his wife… his queen . He gently propped himself onto his elbow, so as not to wake her, and gazed down at her face, noting the way the sunlight accentuated her high cheekbones. This wonderful, beautiful and exquisite woman is my wife , he thought with quiet awe. His chest flipped with uncontained joy and gone was the trepidation of the night before.

He studied her face as she slept, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sighed contently in her sleep. He lay back down and pulled her close to him, tightening his grip on her, and burying his face in her neck, inhaling her intoxicatingly sweet scent. The silk nightdress was so smooth and thin, and his hands couldn’t help but wander up and down, his fingers gently brushing the material over her skin, like water. Without realising it, he found himself rutting against her arse, which was tucked up cosily to his groin. He tried to still himself, she's still asleep ! But his wandering hands could not be stopped as one slowly crept up her torso and cupped a breast. The shift was so thin, that he felt her nipple harden with the barest of touches and that’s when he realised that her hips were moving too.

He pushed himself up to an elbow again, and her eyes, dark and hooded with desire stared back at him. Her lips parted with a hitched breath and he flicked her nipple with his thumb. Moving his hand downwards, he swallowed her breathy moan as his fingers teased the hem of her smalls, mouth crashing down on hers in simple, uncontained desire.

They had not so much as kissed since they had said their wedding vows in the Chantry, he realised. And as his tongue licked her upper lip, he swore to himself that he would never leave it so long to kiss her again. Her mouth opened with a sigh and their tongues danced as he continued to rut, and she squirmed against him as his hand finally slipped into her smalls in search of her bud.

He stifled a groan as he found her hand already there, gently touching herself. His fingers joined hers whilst they moved their hips and she guided him with her hand. He slipped a digit inside of her and she gasped, squirming against his erection, straining against his smalls, and he pictured feeling her growing wetness around his cock. With impatience, he slid her nightdress up so she was exposed and he pulled his cock out and rubbed it blissfully between her cheeks. Her soft skin was as smooth as silk as he rocked his hips, gaining pleasant friction with her arse.

“More…” she whispered, as her fingers joined his, pumping inside her. And with his control waning, he obliged eagerly.

Alistair rolled her onto her back and pulled her hands over her head as he pinned her down. Her legs fell open for him, and as much as he wanted - no needed - to be inside her, Alistair knew what his lady wife needed more was to be spoiled. If it were up to him, the king would love to stay buried between his wife’s legs for the rest of his days, as her taste was so sweet. He trailed kisses down her neck, and her hips lifted up to meet his, and his resolve almost broke as her core was teased against his cock. But being a Warden had one excellent perk: incomparable stamina.

He continued down, kissing her heaving breasts as they rose and fell erratically with her breathing. Playing with one in his hand, he took her other nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, her perfect bud hard and round in his mouth. With his hand, he squeezed her other one tight, and had her gasping: but he was nowhere near done. He let go of her breast in his mouth with a pop and glanced up at her to see her mouth open and delicious, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. He grinned and kissed her stomach, then pulled back and positioned himself on his elbows, taking in the sight of her splayed out on the bed, rosy cheeks and breathy moans all for him. He pressed his lips to her knee, then with each kiss, his stubble tickled the inside of her thigh as he moved up her legs, finally reaching that gloriously warm and wet apex in between that was just begging for him to taste.

Desire surged through him and without wasting any more time, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and licked her dripping wet folds. She cried out in pleasure as he rolled his tongue over her, and her fingers grabbed his head, nails digging into his scalp as he worked his mouth. She tasted as good as she smelt, and her hips rose up to meet his mouth, jittering as she climbed higher to her peak. He wanted to spoil her because she deserved it and more. So he reached up with one hand and squeezed a breast and flicked a nipple again, loving the way her hips bucked in response. Her nails dug deeper into his scalp and raked his chestnut hair as his other hand kneaded her arse, lifting her up so he had the best angle to eat her out.

He teased and tortured her with his mouth, and finally sucked on her clit.

“Ah...ah...Alist-ah!” she cried out, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. He tasted her orgasm on his tongue and without missing a beat, rose and positioned himself at her entrance. Her eyes flicked open to look at him as she felt him move, and a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her exquisite mouth. That was all he needed.

So tormentingly slowly, Alistair finally entered her, the warmth and wetness so indescribably perfect that he couldn’t help but let out a moan. He fit her perfectly and when sheathed completely, he paused and stared into her eyes. Her breathing was still fast from her orgasm and he captured her mouth with his, letting her taste herself. Then he rolled his hips and started to slowly make love to her, not once tearing his gaze from her face. He noticed every single expression that flickered before him as he thrust and teased: a hand on her hip and another once more on her breasts.

She wrapped her legs around him and he plunged unbelievably deeper inside of her, making them gasp and moan in unison as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. As they moved, the pleasure and pressure mounted, but Alistair had much more control than a boy still wet behind the ears - he wanted to give her so much more before he -

“Ah!” he gasped, as she took him by surprise. She had crossed her ankles behind his back and with her strong legs, twisted so that he was forced to roll and let her sit on top of him. Incredibly, they did not lose touch, and the angle was different but just as pleasurable. She smirked down at him as she pressed her hands to his chest and began to slowly roll her hips, her breasts rising and falling beautifully as she took him. Alistair was entranced as he watched his love move quicker with a growing need and he held her hips tightly to control her pace. But she didn’t need any assistance, as she moved faster and faster, his thrusts coming up to meet hers, flesh slapping flesh. Her moans crescendoed, and the erotic sight before him of his wife move above him with a wonton need to claim her pleasure...well he could feel his control slipping. He wanted to spill himself inside of her, and see his seed drip down her legs…

“Fuck!” she cried, reaching her second orgasm, as Alistair dug his fingers into her thighs to stop himself from joining her peak of pleasure. She fell back and Alistair seized his moment to regain control and topped her again.

Fully sheathed once more, he deliberately moved slowly, as he knew that if he picked up the pace then he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But she caught his eye and licked her lips.

“Please, Alistair,” she panted, her hands digging into his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Mmmm?” he replied, biting her earlobe and slipping out of her, making her whimper.

“What do you want?” he teased, stroking himself as she looked up at him with uncloaked desire.

“It’s more than what I want ...it’s what I need ,” she whispered, sitting up to meet her lips with his, her hand trailing down his chest and abdomen, making his muscles tense in anticipation.

They kissed delicately, fervently, noses touching, breath mingling. “And what do you need?”

She pulled away and lay back down on the bed, her legs falling open. She traced one finger down the length of her, and his eyes followed.

“Take me, my king,” she begged, touching herself in front of him.

Almost roughly, because he couldn't bear to not be in her again, he flipped her over, brought her to her knees and lined himself up to her entrance. He kissed her salty back, sleek with sweat and breathed in her ear. “As my queen commands.”

He thrusted inside, and she took all of him. She threw her head back and he grabbed her neck, pulling her up to him for a searing kiss, their tongues dancing as he thrusted fiercely, the globe of her ass bouncing against his abdomen. She moaned in his mouth as she touched herself; legs shaking as he pounded into her over and over; sweat mingling, with moans loud and needy, filling the chamber. He pumped with such animalistic need and she cried in pleasure and she gripped the bedsheets for support as he took her, unrelenting in his passion.

With a shaking arm, he reached around and touched her pearl and she cried out, her orgasm sudden and huge.

“Fill me!” she pleaded as she continued to come.

He snapped and finally, wonderfully, he reached his peak too and exploded inside of her, his vision blurred and black at the edges, as he emptied his seed inside of her - for the first time. And Maker, did it feel incredible to finish like this; in a union of bodies so perfect and natural.

Alistair, as breathless as if he had just swam the length of the Waking Sea, collapsed on top of her, laughing with joy.

“I...I love...you,” he panted, their legs entwined and he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began.

They stayed like that for some time, and Alistair was tempted to fall asleep just like this, but she wiggled underneath him.

“Mmmm, as much as I love you inside of me,” she murmured;” you are crushing me somewhat.”

He reluctantly slipped out of her, trailing kisses all down her back and arse, making her hairs stand on end and her toes curl. He gathered her into his arms, the sheets around them a total mess, but he was loath to care as she lightly ran her fingers over him. His limbs felt like jelly, all loose and relaxed.

“Hey, Alistair?”

“Hmm?” he replied, barely opening his eyes.

“There’s some cheese leftover from last night.”

He sat up suddenly and looked over to where she pointed.

“Cheese for breakfast?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Cheese for breakfast,” she confirmed.

fin

[btssaysstudy]

Rebound Pt. 1

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung (V) x reader Genre: Angst Warning: Swearing, cheating mentioned Synopsis: After encouraging your best friend, Taehyung, (also crush) to tryout for the volleyball team, he had gained attention and you started getting closer to one of his teammates. When Taehyung gets himself into a relationship, you found yourself growing attached to Jungkook. However, when Taehyung’s relationship turns sour, he turns to you to fill the void - something Jungkook strongly opposed to. Word count: 6k+

 Idk if people would be interested so request for a part 2 if you’d want one and if you want to be tagged?

PT. 2

“There’s no way I’ll get in.” Taehyung shook his head as he read the sign up form. You rolled eyes and shoved the laptop closer to his face. “You won’t know until you try! Plus, you said you wanted to try something new this year.”

It was the second week of the new academic year. It was your third year in college and Taehyung told you earlier on his new year’s resolution. So you were just doing your best friend duties, making sure he fulfils his resolution. “I don’t know y/n…” Taehyung frowned at the screen but you could see him slowly start to reconsider.

You and Taehyung had met during orientation week as freshmen and ever since, you were inseparable. Your first two years were spent being ‘lowkey’, avoiding the “It Clubs” and spending time within your own circles. Taehyung, on the other hand, had always wanted to try out a new sport however he was rejected when he first tried out track during freshmen year.

“You better do it or I’ll do it for you.” You threatened him, sitting up and giving him a pointed look. He chuckled and reached out for your laptop, beginning to key in his details. You smiled triumphantly, lying back on the bed as you watched your best friend fill up the sign up sheet.

You would never admit it to his face but he was cute. There was no lie in that. Even though he remained ‘lowkey’ with you, Taehyung would still get confessions time to time or even get girls sliding into his DMs. You were sure that if he ever joined any of the “It Clubs”, he would be popular.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Taehyung gave you a questioning look. “Admiring my beauty?” He winked at you and you scoffed, throwing a pillow at his face. “Please, I was just thinking about how popular you’ll get once you get accepted.”

“If I get accepted.” “You didn’t even deny about the popular part.”

Taehyung grinned, shutting the laptop and lying in bed beside you. “If you’re worried about me ditching you, you don’t have to.”

“I’m not worried about that, idiot.” You laughed. Taehying shifted to lie on his left side, looking directly at you. You shifted on your right to look back at him. “Good. Because that won’t happen.”

_____

“Did you hear from them?” You asked, skimming through your lecture slides for the week. Taehyung was over at your dorm room after class, waiting for you to finish your ‘review’ so that you could go out to eat dinner. “I don’t know.”

You turned back to look at your phone lying on your bed, scrolling through his Instagram feed. “I don’t know? What do you mean?”

“I haven’t checked my email.”

“Why not?”

He just shrugged his shoulders, his eyes glued to his screen. You sighed, scooting your swivel chair next to the bed. You shoved him, nagging him to get up and check his email. “If you don’t get in, it’s fine! You survived college so far without it anyway.” After a few minutes of whining and delaying it, Taehyung gave in and signed into his email. You waited anxiously, watching his facial expressions for any signs of bad news or good news. His eyes shifted as he read through his emails. “So? Anything?” You pressed for an answer.

Taehyung locked his phone and tossed it on the bed. You frowned, reaching out to his pat his shoulders. “It’s okay, you did your best—“

“I got in!!” He exclaimed joyfully, pulling you in for a hug, wrapping both his arms and legs around you. You let out a short scream from the shock before wrapping your arms around your best friend to congratulate him, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your chest.

“I’m so proud of you Tae!” You squealed in excitement with him as he rambled on about how he couldn’t believe it and if he was dreaming. You laughed, “Why don’t you let me go and we can go out for dinner to celebrate?”

“Right.” Taehyung cleared his throat, promptly releasing his grasp on you. The two of you grabbed your belongings from your room and left to have a celebratory dinner.

_____

Practice took up a lot of his afternoon time but you saw it coming. Sports clubs are known for being time consuming but you were just glad that Taehyung seemed to be enjoying his time. Being ‘club-free’, you had a lot of spare time in the afternoon to join him at indoor sports hall to watch him train. You did this only because he asked you to be there and because he always promised for dinner after practice.

It didn’t take long for the team to be acquainted to you. “Back again to support your boyfriend, huh?” You looked up from your laptop to see one of Taehyung’s teammate grabbing his bottle of water and towel. You tried to not trail your eyes down to his sweat soaked shirt. “Once again, not my boyfriend.”

“And once again, always good news to me.” He winked at you, to which you laughed in response. “Go and train Kook.”

“Yes ma’am.” He laughed and jogged back to the court. Jungkook was in the same year as you and Taehyung. However, he was in the Volleyball team since freshmen year. There was no doubt about his popularity in college, especially amongst women. You never thought you’d become friends with Jungkook.

You looked around for Taehyung, catching him training his receiving with his seniors. A smile crept on your face as you watched in admiration, noticing how he face could be serious for one second and then flashing his boxy smile the next when his senior would compliment him.

You really had it bad. But it was fine as long as he didn’t know.

Their first volleyball match didn’t take too long to come, Taehyung was having his first game jitters. He had called you the night before the game, asking if he could come over to get his mind off things. You obviously agreed even though you were about to get ready for bed. You were annoyed at yourself at times for always being ready to drop anything for him. Though you reasoned out that it was because you were best friends. But you knew better.

“You’re going to do well Tae.” You placed your hand on top of his as a gesture of encouragement. “I’ve been to almost all your practices. You’re always training so hard and your seniors and coach trust you enough to put you in on the game. You gotta believe yourself sometimes man.”

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line, staring down at the floor. “I know you’re right but I’m scared I screw up this chance and they won’t put me in anymore.”

You shook your head, placing both your hands on his shoulders to shift him in a way that he faces you directly. “Stop thinking about the negative side Tae. Just focus on doing your best tomorrow and you will, okay?”

He finally gave you a more relaxed smile, “Yes ma’am.”

You laughed, punching his shoulder lightly. “That’s right. Now you should go rest.” You let out a yawn and he had a guilty look on your face. “Sorry I kept you up y/n.”

“No no, it’s fine. I’m just glad I helped you gather your thoughts before your game.”

“You’re going to be there right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” You grinned at him.

_____

Taehyung was truly a fast learner. His practices was displayed on the court, following the team’s plan easily and reacting to any changes in a split second. He had mad reflexes and it was truly an attractive thing to you. You cheered for him enthusiastically throughout the game. Your college easily took the first win, your whole area jumped up with joy as the team huddled together in celebration. “Come join the party, please?” Taehyung pleaded with his puppy dog eyes, knowing you couldn’t say no to that.

So there you were, in one of the volleyball senior’s house, trying to find a quiet corner to sit and use your phone. You didn’t want to hold Taehyung back and you could see he was enjoying his time with his seniors and newfound “friends”. A pang of jealousy hits you as you watched a batch mate approach him rather flirtatiously, offering him a drink. He was clearly enjoying this attention and you hated it. You admit that you could’ve prevented that by being by his side and party with him but you never liked these scenes.

“Careful, people might think you’re about to murder someone.”

You jumped in your spot, turning to see Jungkook chuckling at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You crossed your arms defensively. He shook his head, jutting out his lower lip as he mocked you, “Alright, my mistake. He’s not your boyfriend anyway.”

“Yes I told you Taehyung and I—“

“I didn’t even mention his name.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging on his lips. You glared at him, “Who else would you be talking about?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. I mean there are quite a few seniors over there, like Namjoon, he’s pretty hot too. Did you see his thighs—“

“Okay quit teasing me. I’m not in the mood.”

“Hey I’m sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood—“

“I don’t need any of that.”

Jungkook nodded his head, following your gaze to see Taehyung with the seniors, being surrounded by a group of girls. He glanced back at you and sighed, “But I’m guessing you need some fresh air?”

You looked at him and grumbled, “Maybe I do.”

Jungkook led you to the backyard where there was a pool and barbecue pit. The two of your sat on the bench next to the pit since most were either in the pool or about to jump into the pool.

“Those girls are harmless you know. They’re always the same ones that come to the party just to flock to the team.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Then why are your eyebrows still furrowed like you’re ready to slap a bitch?” Jungkook’s tone was half concerned and half amused. You sighed and leaned back on the bench.

“I’m just not a party person.”

“So why are you still here?” Jungkook followed suit, leaning back into the bench.

“Tae.”

“You did your best friend duties already, y/n.” Jungkook shook his head, “You don’t have to sit through the night to watch him flirt with strangers.”

“Maybe I don’t. But I can’t ditch him. He’s my best friend.”

Jungkook sighed, “I get that, but you gotta remember you’re his best friend too. He shouldn’t be putting you through this.”

“Tae doesn’t know anyway.” You sat up abruptly, pointing a finger at Jungkook. “And it stays that way so you better not utter a single word to him.”

The boy smiled, doing the action of zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key into the pool. You laughed, Jungkook grinning at you. “There’s the laugh I love to hear.”

“Sure.” You scoffed.

“There’s a reason why I joke around with you during practice. It’s nice to hear your laugh.”

You were flustered from that genuine compliment, unsure of how to react. Jungkook laughed and patted your shoulders. “Don’t go falling for me now y/n. You have Taehyung to catch.”

Just from that all the flustered feelings were gone and you playfully nudged the volleyball player.

“You wish.”

_____

You arrived late for one of the volleyball trainings since you had a project meeting to attend to. Once it was over, you excitedly headed over to the indoor sports hall to support your best friend.

However, your mood immediately turned sour the moment you entered.

Who is she? You thought to yourself, stopping a scowl from forming on your face. “y/n!” Jungkook jogged up to you to greet you. “You’re late today.”

“Well at least you noticed that I arrived.” You grumbled, “I should just head home.” You spoke defeatedly while you still watched Taehyung joking around with an unfamiliar figure.

Jungkook sighed, “Yo, Taehyung!” He hollered at his teammate. Taehyung finally noticed you had arrived, happily approaching. “Y/N!” he pulled you into a hug. “H-Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“No no it’s fine! Anyway, I have updates to tell you.” He wriggled his eyebrows and you looked at him in confusion. “What updates?”

He grinned cheekily at you before tilting his head in the direction of the girl waiting behind. “We met at the party and exchanged numbers.”

“Oh!” You feigned excitement for your friend. You felt your heart ache from the news and you were ready to turn around and dash out. Taehyung was about to head back to court before he stopped, “Oh yea,” He looked back at you, “I can’t go out for dinner after practice. I’m taking her out somewhere. That’s cool with you right?”

“Y-Yea sure! We can always eat another time.” You smiled at him.

“Thanks y/n, you’re the best!” He flashed you two thumbs up before heading off.

“I’m guessing you’re leaving?” Jungkook came back to your side. “I have no reason to stay anyway.” You sounded defeated and you couldn’t be bothered to sound okay in front of Jungkook.

“Wait!” He grabbed the strap of your bag. “Why don’t we head out for dinner? Stay and watch.”

“Watch then flirt with each other? I’ll pass.” You scoffed.

The coach blew his whistle, signalling everyone to get back on court. “Just think about okay? We’ll go out for dinner afterwards.”

Jungkook gave you his classic charming smile but you could see it in his eyes that he was concerned about you. You gave in, nodding your head and made your way to the seats.

Throughout the practice, you were glued on your laptop, distracting yourself so that you won’t look at Taehyung and his new girl. You had to admit that you would catch yourself watching Taehyung being dead serious during practice. You would roll your eyes when you hear his ‘number one’ supporter cheering him on, while at the same time, hating your jealous side.

Once practice ended, Taehyung came up to you, slightly surprised. “Y/N! You’re still here! I thought you would’ve left.”

With a shrug, you opened your mouth to reply but Jungkook had beaten you to it. “She waited for me!” The sweaty player jogged up to your side, draping his arm over your shoulder.

“You’re sweaty.” You commented, trying to wriggle out from his grasp. “Yes I’m aware.”

“Waited for you?” Taehyung directed the question at his teammate who just nodded his head. You spoke up, “We’re going out for dinner.”

“O-Oh!” Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly before composing himself, “Well have fun you two! I’ll head off first! I’ll text you tonigh!” Taehyung ruffled your hair and headed off with his new companion.

“You’re stiff.” Jungkook shook your shoulders, trying to loosen you up. “Let’s just go for dinner.” You ignored his comment, grabbing your bag to head off with Jungkook.

Jungkook really took you by surprise. You couldn’t help but have a prejudice against members of these “It Clubs” in your college. You knew it was bad to assume but most of time, it was accurate. However, with Jungkook, he was actually shy at times. He could be really confident when he stood on court but you noticed outside the indoor sports hall, he was almost a different person.

“You know, never thought I’d be hanging out with Jeon Jungkook.”

He quirked his eyebrows, “Why do you say that?” You scoffed, “Because anyone on the volleyball team is usually popular.” He chuckled, ruffling his own hair. “I always hated that.”

“Oh sorry I didn’t mean to offend—“

“N-No no, you didn’t.” Jungkook shook his head. “I love my team members. They’re like one of the few real friends in college. I never knew how bad this popularity craze was until I joined the team. I just never got it. We’re all just college students.”

Nodding your head, you tried to think of a response. You never knew Jungkook had these thoughts. Then again, you never really sat down to get to know him better. Jungkook chuckled and you looked back up at him. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing. Just feels nice to talk about it with someone.”

You gave him a comforting smile to which he returned one as well, for the first time, you both truly just enjoyed being in each other’s presence.

Ever since your dinner with Jungkook, you guys grew closer. You started to look forward to meeting Jungkook after training or after your own classes. Taehyung had also been busy with his own date and it seemed to be going well since his frequency of contacting you had decreased over the weeks. You had stopped going to watch their training since your midterms were drawing near, agreeing to meet Jungkook at a chosen eatery afterwards. “How’s Taehyung?” “What do you mean by how is he?” “Did he not tell you?” Jungkook looked hesitant to continue his sentence. You straightened your back, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook. “Tell me what?” Jungkook averted your gaze, slumping back in his seat. “They fought and the girl called it off. He skipped practice thrice in a row.”

“W-What?”

You started to wondering why Taehyung didn’t update you about it. Whenever you asked him about his relationship, he would say things were going well and it didn’t seem that it was going sour. “I didn’t know…” Your voice trailed off as you started to worry for Taehyung.

After a short moment of silence, you caught Jungkook raise his hand to get the bill. “Come on, I know you want to go check up on him. Let’s call it a night.”

“N-No, I can drop him a text later on.” Jungkook only smiled at you but you were taken aback by how forced it look. “Can’t fool me y/n.”

You frowned, feeling guilty about calling dinner early. “I’m sorry Jungkook. At least let me pay for dinner this time.”

“Not gonna happen. Also, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Let’s go check on your friend.”

After Jungkook insisted on paying for dinner, he accompanied you over to Taehyung’s dorm. “Text me when you’re back home later, yea?” Jungkook ruffled your hair goodbye before stuffing his hands back into his sweatshirts’ pockets and walked off. You watched Jungkook retreat away, wondering why he sounded dejected. Shaking your head, you looked at the door in front of you and knocked for Taehyung.

“Tae? It’s me.”

There was silence on the other side, you waited for a while before knocking once more. “Tae, I know you’re in there—“

“Y/N, why are you here?” Taehyung opened the door wide enough for you to come in. “I’m here to check on my best friend. And also to ask you why you didn’t tell me about what happened.” Taehyung sighed, plopping himself back onto his bed. “How did you find out?”

“Jungkook told me.”

“Jungkook? Since when were you guys so close?”

“Not the point here Tae. Why didn’t you tell me about it?” You asked him in a soft, comforting voice. Taehyung stared at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not a big deal anyway.”

“Really?” You scoffed, glancing around his room, “Your room tells me otherwise.” His volleyball outfit was hanging untouched on his door and polaroids of his newly ended relationship was thrown in the trash. Taehyung had been lounging in the dark before you came as well, his go-to “I’m sad go away” music playlist running softy in the background.

“It wasn’t going to last either. It got pretty rocky towards the end.”

“But I’m your best friend Tae. You shouldn’t be going through this alone.” You patted his knees, telling him to sit up and he did. Taehyung looked into your eyes, “Why can’t we just become a couple?”

“W-What?” You nearly choked on your saliva. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, “We’re best friends. We know each other’s flaws and secrets. We’re close enough to get together. Why can’t we just get together?”

“Because you have to like each other romantically to get together—“

“We can try things out?”

“Tae, you just broke up with your girlfriend—“

“We’ll take things slow!” Taehyung grabbed your hands in his, ”We’re best friends! That’s like a couple already, all we just need is to go out on romantic dates!” As each second passed by, you knew Taehyung was becoming more attached to his idea and was starting to think that it was the perfect idea. You shook your head, pulling your hands away from him. “That’s a stupid idea Tae.”

Taehyung frowned, reaching for your hands once more. “Y/N, I care for you a lot. More than enough for us to try things out together. Tell me honestly, can’t you see something romantic between us?” You felt your heart pounding, your mind racing back and forth between the two sides. You knew he was just heart broken and he was going to treat you as a rebound. However, another part of you always wanted to try things out with Taehyung, you did like him after all.

“O-Okay fine.”

_____

After that day, Taehyung had been asking you to come back to watch his practices and he was serious about taking you out on dates. You started ignoring Jungkook’s texts. A part of you felt guilty to be talking to Jungkook. He had checked up on you that night to asked if you had gotten back safely. You felt butterflies reading such a simple text from Jungkook. That immediately made you feel guilty and you decided to ignore him.

That was why you had been hesitant to attend volleyball practices, but Taehyung was persistent.

You walked side by side with Taehyung, his arms over your shoulder as he kept you close. These moments made you forget that you were rebound as you allowed yourself to fully enjoy the moment. A big part of you felt that maybe Taehyung won’t see you as a rebound but things could really work out between the two of you. You felt happy being close with Taehyung again and you loved going out with him on dates.

“Y/N! It’s been awhile!” Namjoon hollered, waving wildly at you. You chuckled, greeting your senior hello. Jungkook’s posture perked up as he heard your name, he turned around eager to greet you, only to freeze when he saw you standing close to Taehyung. He composed himself before approaching you two, “What’s going on here?” He forced a teasing tone.

Taehyung grinned like a giddy nine year old boy, pulling you closer to him. “We’re just trying things out.”

Jungkook raised a questioning eyebrow at the sight before him, “Didn’t you just break up, Tae?”

“What does that have to do with me and y/n?” Taehyung frowned at his teammate. Jungkook raised his hands in defeat, shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing! I was just asking.” He casted a disappointed look in your way and you wished you could erase it from memory.

Halfway through practice, the coach whistled for a 15 minute break. You had gone out to buy a snack for yourself. “Y/N! Wait up!” You almost ran the moment you heard his voice. It was Jungkook. “What do you want?”

Jungkook just grinned at you, “A snack.”

The two of you walked to the vending machine to grab yourselves a light snack. “You know you’re his rebound right?”

“That may not be 100% true—“

“Y/N.” He called your name in a firmer tone, his friendly demeanour gone. Jungkook wrapped his hands gently around your wrist. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Taehyung’s my best friend, Kook. He’s not going to hurt me.” You replied defensively, getting worked up by the thought of being a rebound. Jungkook sighed, “I know he’s your best friend—“

“And that’s enough for me to know he won’t hurt me. Can we drop it, please?”

Jungkook stayed silent, nodding his head. The walk back to the indoor sports hall was anything but comfortable. “Anyway, good luck for your upcoming game.”

“T-Thanks.” Jungkook pressed his lips into a small smile, opening the door for you.

_____

It was no surprise that the team won, you cheered from the stand as you proudly watched the team huddle together to celebrate. You caught Taehyung look back at the crowd, flashing you his boxy smile. In that moment, you felt that everything was right and finally coming together.

That night, it was their celebratory party. You should’ve learned your lesson about not liking parties. But you were there to support your date. “Thanks for coming Y/N.” Taehyung brought you out to the backyard, sitting by the pool. The guests were only starting to arrive so it was mostly the team at the house. The backyard was just for you and Taehyung to use.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m proud of you.” You smiled at him, patting his thighs encouragingly. Taehyung chuckled, “I’m also thankful you agreed to try things out between us. I hope you have no regrets.”

You looked up at him, shaking your head. “A-Actually, I always kinda liked you. For a long time, in fact.”

Taehyung frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No there’s nothing to be sorry about Tae. I didn’t tell you either.”

Silence ensued as you two continued to look into each other’s eyes. The cheering from indoors suddenly went silent and all you heard was the sound of water as you both swayed your feet in the pool. You watched Taehyung slowly lean in and you did the same, closing the gap to kiss your best friend. You dreamt of this moment so long and it had finally happened.

When you two pulled away, Taehyung had a cheeky smile on his face. “Can’t believe I just kissed my best friend.” “Shut up.” You shoved him, getting up from the ground. The two of you headed back inside, Taehyung sneakily intertwining is hands with yours.

The other college students started to arrive and it didn’t take long for the party to begin. You went to the kitchen to get food since you were starving. You talked to the other volleyball players who have grown to be acquainted with by the kitchen counter, near the food station. Taehyung went to the living room to mingle with the guests.

“By the way, have you seen Jungkook?” You asked Namjoon. “Oh, he’s playing beer pong outside.”

Once you finished your plate you excused yourself and headed out to find Jungkook. “Hey!” You shouted over the music. Jungkook glanced at you before easily shooting into the last cup successfully. “You guys go ahead.” He told the group and left with you. “Thought you said you’re not a party person.”

“Yea but Taehyung’s here. I’m just here to support.”

Jungkook nodded his head, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Where is he anyway?”

“Probably drinking too much with the others.” You chuckled, glancing inside. Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, “You know she was invited right? His ex?” You tried your best to shrug it off, “Oh really? Didn’t know that.”

He shook his head in response, stopping in his tracks. “You should stop being in denial y/n.”

“I’m not. We just had a heart to heart talk awhile ago and things are going great between us.”

“I’m just saying that because I care about you.”

You sighed, nodding your head, “I know Jungkook. I know that.” You guys suddenly heard a group of buys singing their hearts out through the microphones from inside. With a chuckle, Jungkook suggested that you guys head in to watch Namjoon singing Titanic.

“No way, Yoongi is belting it out too.” You laughed, watching the two passionately sing their hearts out. You glanced around the living room, noticing that Taehyung wasn’t there.

“I’ll go get a drink, want any?”

“Whatever you get. Thanks y/n.” Jungkook thanked, busy taking out his phone to film his seniors singing Titanic. “This is blackmail material.” He chuckled to himself. You squeezed through the sea of people, making your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.

However, a part of you wished you stayed to watch the Titanic performance in the living room.

You stood there frozen, not even knowing what to say. Taehyung was leaning against the kitchen counter, dangerously close to his ex as they talked and laughed about whatever their conversation was. You watched as she trailed her hands down his chest, Taehyung not declining the gesture at all. “I missed this.” He admitted out loud. “Maybe we can have another chance?” She asked Taehyung as she seductively grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull herself closer.

You took a deep breath in and walked inside to make your presence known. “I think you guys should get another chance together.” You bitterly interjected their conversation. The two immediately pulled away from each other. “Y/N, w-we were just talking—“

You scoffed, taking an empty cup and filling it up with whatever hard liquor you first touched. “I know you were. I heard everything - how you missed it. It’s okay Tae, I get it.” You shook your head, more disappointed that you have been fooling yourself the entire time. “I’m the fool here anyway. Enjoy your night together.”

Raising the cup, you tilted your head to their direction. “Cheers, to you guys getting back together!” You turned on your heels and started to walk away.

“W-Wait y/n we should talk—“

“Oh yea,” You looked back at him, “That also means I’m done dating you.”

You didn’t wait for a reply as you walked out of the kitchen and passed the living room. “Hey! Where’s my drink?” Jungkook stopped you. You looked at him and back to your cup before downing the whole large cup of liquor.

“Woah, slow down Flash.” Jungkook reached out to take the cup from you. Though, it was already empty. “I can get my own cup. You didn’t have to down—“

“Yea, why don’t you go inside the kitchen and see the couple getting back together. I’m sure it’s a sweet sight.”

“W-What?” Jungkook’s head jerked to the direction of the kitchen, watching Taehyung walk out of the area in panic with his ex trailing behind after him. You heard the plastic cup crunch in his grasp, and you nodded your head. “You’re right, I’ve been fooling myself the whole time. I even snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s attention shifted back to you as he watched your eyes water and your attempts to blink them away. “Let’s leave this place.”

“No, it’s your celebratory party, I’ll go—“

“We’ll go.” Jungkook took your hand in his, leading you out through the main door.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice called out for you as you two left. You turned around to see Taehyung catching up to you. “What are you doing with Jungkook?” “I’m going home.”

“With Jungkook? Y/N, please, we need to talk—“

“I don’t think she wants to talk—“

“You’re not part of this conversation, Jungkook.” Taehyung glared at him. “And why don’t you keep your hands off of her!” Taehyung reached out for your hand but you stepped back, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Taehyung glanced between the both of your before laughing. “You’re upset with me with what happened in the kitchen yet you are leaving the party with another man? I should be upset too—“

“Shut up Taehyung! You know I would never do that to you, we are at the same fucking party and you still have the audacity to flirt with your ex! Under the same fucking roof! All Jungkook did was comfort me after seeing such an amazing sight! So no, you have no right to be upset! So can you just leave me the fuck alone?!” You snapped, yelling at the top of your lungs at Taehyung to just leave you.

“Y/N, it can’t just end like this… We’re best friends—“

“We should’ve just kept it there. That’s my fault.” You aggressively wiped your tears away, looking back at Jungkook. “I want to leave.” He nodded his head, “I’ll drive you home.” The two of you walked away, leaving Taehyung to stare at your retreating figure as he started to realise what he had done and what it had cost him. In the car, you stared outside the entire ride, letting tears fall silently as you started scolding yourself internally. You had both eyes wide open the entire time yet you still allowed it to happen to you.

Jungkook being the gentleman he was, gave you the silence you needed throughout the ride back to your dorm. The two of you made your way up to your room, collapsing onto your bed the moment you entered. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you rest.” Jungkook handed you a glass of water.

“I’m free the whole day—“

“Can you stay the night?” You meekly asked, sniffling in between words. Jungkook’s heart ached at the sight of you crying, gripping the cup as you tried to calm yourself down.

Nodding his head, he sat beside you, carefully taking the glass from your hands and placing it on the bedside table. He wrapped his arms around your as he pulled you in for a hug as you started weeping, scolding yourself at the same time.

“I hate myself. I hate that I agreed with his plan. I hate—“

“Stop hating yourself y/n, people make mistakes. Now you just have to learn from it.” Jungkook comforted you, gently rubbing your back to calm you down. Exhausted from crying and also from being tipsy, you managed to fall asleep in his embrace.

So yea, request if you’d like a part 2 and if you want to be tagged! I’d love to hear from you guys if you liked it!

PT. 2

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hi I’m back!💗 I was wondering (if it’s not too big of a hassle) if you could do a Plank All Over Me but they do a relationship test. Like the one Meghan Trainor and her husband did for buzzfeed? Love you tons!-✨

Plank All Over Me - Couples Tag Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

AN: you do NOT have to have read the others to understand this. Enjoy :)

Masterlist

Plank All Over Me 1 & Yoga Edition

“Hi, I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled widely at the camera.

“And I’m actually excited to be in this video.” You nodded in approval now that you and Tom were doing a normal video that didn’t require either of you to get into painful positions.

“You never say your name when we do these. You always say something else.” Tom looked at you as he realized the pattern with the intros of the videos you did together. “This is my girlfriend Y/n L/n by the way, everyone. Please pardon her manners.” He cracked a smile. 

“Yeah, but I do it on purpose. Its like my thing for these kinds of videos.” You explained yourself to Tom.

“Oh.” He deadpanned, pretending not to care about your explanation. You laughed at his serious expression.

“I can’t believe this video turned into our breakup.” You said to the camera and he laughed beside you.

“Can we both cry so they have something for the thumbnail?” He suggested to the camera crew.

“Or, better idea, hear me out.” You looked between Tom and the camera. “We start the video.”

“That’s a great idea.” Tom pulled your chair closer to his and slung an arm around you. “I’m Tom, this is Y/n, and we’re doing the Buzzfeed Couples Tag.”

“So first we have to check off what we know about each other.” You said as you scanned the list of questions while Tom kissed the side of your head. “Do you want to just do a back and forth?”

“Sure. I’ll go first.” Tom pulled the completed closer to himself. “When’s my birthday?”

“June 1st 1862.” You answered confidently.

“Perfect.” Tom player along. “Your turn.”

“My age?” You read off the screen.

“Trick question, you’re timeless.” Tom smiled and you gushed. “Just kidding guys, shes 53.” He said to the camera.

“I’m just not but okay.” You muttered.

“What’s my zodiac sign?” Tom read.

“Little bitch?” You asked.

“You got it.” Tom nodded. You laughed and kissed his cheek.

“What’s my favorite movie?” You asked.

“That’s easy. It’s a tie between Spiderman: Homecoming, Spiderman: Far From Home and Spies in Disguise, out this Christmas.” Tom winked at the camera after he listed off his own films.

“You were close.” You pointed at him. “It’s actually a tie between Deadpool, Definitely Maybe, and The Proposal.”

“But…” Tom faltered. “But those are all Ryan Reynolds movie.”

“Yea, but that’s just because I wish he was my boyfriend instead of you.” You said with fake seriousness.

“Oh, okay.” Tom nodded as he went along with your joke. “It’s funny though, I haven’t seen any videos of you planking over Ryan Reynolds so…” ,he clicked his tongue.

“Thats because Ryan and I like to keep those videos private, don’t we baby?” You shot a wink at the camera.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough before I actually get mad.” Tom laughed. “And you have never seen Definitely Maybe.”

“Yes I have.” You defended. “That’s the one where they’re British and the little boy from Nanny McPhee plays the drum.”

“That’s Love Actually, and you gave the worst possible description of it, so congratulations.” Tom commemorated you as you laughed.

“We just got so off topic. Who even asked the last question?” You wondered.

“I’ll go.” He looked at the computer for the next question. “What’s my coffee order?”

“Here we go.” You roll your eyes at the ceiling. “Tom doesn’t drink coffee. He drinks sugar with a few spoonfuls of tea in it.”

“Yes, I do.” Tom confirmed. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s gonna be something wrong with that when all your teeth fall out. Do you want to be bald and have no teeth? Is that what you want?” You pretended to heckle him.

“That’s weird, I don’t see that question on the computer.” Tom said as he squinted at the computer, pretending to inspect the quiz.

“That’s because I made it up.” You said.

“That’s because I made it up.” Tom mimicked. Your eyes went wide and he bent over laughing. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean that.”

“The title of this video is gonna be Couples Tag leads to a break up?” You did an over exaggerated shrug. “With pictures!”

“And then “shocking!” in parenthesis.” Tom added on, poking fun at the youtube titles you were so used to seeing.

“Emotional!” You put your hand over your heart.

“Can we keep going?” Tom asked through his laughter.

“Yes, sorry.” You laughed and looked at the computer. Oh now it’s generic questions. Does your significant other have any bad habits?”

“No.” Tom said after thinking for a moment. “I’m perfect.”

“Oh, I know. His bad habit is that when he gets scared, he goes like this,” you pull your arm back and make a fist, “as if he’s about to deck someone.”

“That’s just my flight or fight response, darling. I won’t apologize for it.” Tom quipped.

“But you always choose fight!” You laugh. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen him about to punch a clump of hair?” You said to the camera.

“It looks like a spider! Your hair is all over the damn flat and it looks like a spider.” Tom brought up a common argument you two had.

“Okay, but why are you trying to punch a spider?” You defended.

“That’s an excellent question, my love, that I do not know the answer to.” Tom said with a smile and you double over laughing at the stupid argument. “Can you imagine walking into our home and seeing me about to punch a spider?” He chokes out through his laughter.

“Wait,” you wipe your eyes and try to compose yourself before giggling again, “remember that one time with the wind-“

“Don’t mention the wind chimes!” He cuts you off, which makes you laugh harder. “We swore to never speak of that day.”

“You swore.” You pointed out. “I just kept apologizing to the man.”

“Next question.” Tom said quickly. “When and where did we meet?”

“We met on the set of BBC Radio 1, in the studio when we filmed the Plank All Over Me challenge last year.” You recalled with a fond smile.

“Awww. I remember that.” Tom smiled at the memory and leaned over to kiss you. “Look at us now.”

“I know. You’re bald and I’m cheating on you with Ryan Reynolds.” You said with a dreamy expression.

“What was that?” Tom pretended not to hear you.

“I said where was our first date?” You read the next question.

“Oh, we went to that ice cream shop in Soho and got milkshakes.” Tom remembered the first time you’d gone out together.

“Tom told me he wanted to take me out for a drink but didn’t want me to think he was trying to get me drunk, so he took me out for milkshakes.” You recalled to the camera with a fond smile. “I thought that was so cute when you told me.”

“I’m glad you thought me being a massive nerd was cute.” Tom chuckled and you kissed his cheek repeatedly.

“It worked didn’t it? You got me.” You cooed.

“That’s right. I got you.” He smiled proudly and kissed you again, pulling you close. You rested your head on Toms shoulder for the remainder of the video.

“Where and when was our first kiss?” He asked.

“Our first kiss was in your bedroom after I beat you in a game of Wii tennis.” You said proudly.

“That’s right.” He grinned. “The first of many.”

“Just kidding. We’ve been together ten months and have not kissed since that day.” You deadpanned to the camera.

“We kissed twice in this video alone.” Tom pointed out.

“Sounds false.” You shrugged and felt his shoulders move under your head as he laughed.

“Anyway, Y/n was going crazy over winning and rubbing it in my face and I just grabbed her and kissed her.” Tom reminisced about the moment you had first kissed.

“I still don’t know if he actually wanted to kiss me or he just wanted to shut me up.” You joked.

“I don’t know that either darling.” Tom chuckled.

“Thank God.” You laughed. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“I did, about four weeks in.” Tom nodded as he did the math in his head. “But I knew I loved you long before that.”

“Aw.” You beamed. “I still haven’t said it.” You deadpanned to the camera.

“She’s just kidding.” Tom assured the camera. You shook your head and mouthed “no.” Tom caught your reaction and pretended to tear up.

“I’m kidding.” You giggled and pulled him into a hug. “I love you.”

“Okay.” Tom let out a pretend breath of relief. “I was worried for a minute there.”

“Aw, no.” You bit your tongue between your teeth. “What’s the next question?”

“What’s my shoe size?” He asked.

“Huge. What’s my favorite song lyric?” You continued.

“So we’re gonna ignore that last answer?” Tom looked at the camera in fear. “Okay. You love the lyrics “so why don’t we go somewhere only we know?” and they always make you cry.”

“Do you remember why I love that song?” You asked him. “I told you on our first date.”

“Because it makes you think of Bridge to Terabithia.” He knew the answer immediately.

“Yes.” You smiled warmly at the thought of your favorite childhood movie. “Nothing crushes us.” You quoted.

“I haven’t seen that in so long.” Tom realized. “Can we watch it when we get home?”

“Of course we can. I’m always down to see Josh Hutcherson.” You wiggled your eyebrows. “Ask your next question.”

“Do you think Josh Hutcherson is better than me?” Tom pretended to read the question off the screen.

“Well, he survived the Hunger Games with nothing but baking skills and you died when some dude snapped his fingers, so I think the question answers itself.” You said.

“It wasn’t some dude, it was a titan.” Tom defended. “And Peeta was lying on the floor for half the Games. I actually fought.”

“Look at the material.” You shrugged.

“I can’t stand you. Ask your question.” Tom laughed.

“What did I wear on our first date?” You read. “Who remembers that?” You asked the camera.

“You had on a dark red turtleneck and a little black skirt.” Tom recalled and you looked impressed. “Your hair was half up half down and curled and you had a little black ribbon in it.” He smiled.

“I guess Tom remembers that.” You said with an approving nod.

“How could I forget? You were the prettiest girl in that ice cream shop.” He complimented you.

“I was also the only girl who wasn’t 7.” You pointed out.

“Wait, I think that was our last question.” Tom realized as he tried to scroll down but couldn’t anymore. “I guess that’s it. Thanks for watching our Couples Tag with Buzzfeed.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“Can we go home and watch Bridge to Terabithia now?” You asked as you rubbed his arm.

“Yes, lets go home.” He grinned.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

[vulturepunk]

miri @prometheusascendant tagged me to talk about my OCs ten million years ago and i’m finally doin it. i am physically incapable of shutting up about them once i get started so this is goin under a cut

1st is Victrola, my retired player character from The Veil, a campaign run by the lovely and talented @bisexual-mollymauk. she recently reached the conclusion of her story arc and i’m grieving never being able to play her again a little bit... she’s a teenage girl in a cyberpunk future version of detroit with a robotic service dog named Crosley. her parents are music professors and she likes drumming, playing bass guitar, running, and circuses/carnivals. as a child she was involved in an experimental trial without the informed consent of her or her parents, and had a device called a neurochip implanted in her brain. everyone in this futuristic society has one, which allows them to interact with an augmented reality, but hers contained experimental technology that went haywire when she was fourteen. for two years she was dying without knowing why; then when she was sixteen she got involved in Shenanigans and ended up learning the truth behind her illness. to make a very long story short, she teamed up with her new friends to expose the company that experimented on her and then was incorporated into the augmented reality as a sentient but inhuman and fundamentally incomprehensible immortal being. the campaign is a story about late capitalism and unlikely friendship and finding hope in the darkest situations. iirc lydia (our DM) wanted to make a story about what happens when you’re faced with institutional oppression and suffering that you can’t hope to change, and how you keep fighting when there’s no way you can truly solve any of the problems you’re facing. on a personal level, she’s an exploration of my feelings about my own chronic incurable illness, and about the death of my father from terminal illness, my anger and grief and pain and hope. though i’m sad her story is over, it ended in a really satisfying place and i’m just happy to have been able to help tell it. you can listen to her playlist here and view her pinterest aesthetic board here. (picrew credit here)

2nd is Val, my awful memelord child.... they were one of the first tabletop characters i ever played, from Angels of Detroit run by @silver-falling-star. they were pretty much just me but with superpowers, in terms of personality and aesthetics. i’ve grown and changed a lot since their creation (at least in terms of personality, i still dress like a Hot Topic threw up on me) but their game has been on indefinite hiatus for about a long time now so they’re sort of not me anymore, a past me trapped in amber. they’re emotionally volatile from unmanaged PTSD, but very silly. they communicate solely through memes, they use their superpowers to shoplift constantly, and they’re famous on twitch & tiktok along with their twin sibling Flare, played by @1890s-kid.  their backstory is pretty dark; they and their two triplets Flare and Owen started developing powers after a traumatic car crash in eighth grade, and eventually their religious fundamentalist parents found out and tried to burn the witchcraft out of them. flare and val managed to escape and spent the next several years living on the streets of new york city; owen died. they eventually reunited with her as a ghost, but for a long time they grieved her. they joined a superhero team once they hit eighteen, and are now caught up in a mystery involving a murdered teammate. they live off ramen and monster energy drinks, run away from all their problems, and projectile vomit on people who annoy them. i love them. you can listen to a playlist of songs that describe their character arc here and a playlist of songs they would listen to here, and view their pinterest aesthetic board here. 

3rd is Friendship, my baby child. he’s a humanoid voyager probe created by an unnamed spacefaring species of massive benevolent whale-like creatures. he were sent to Earth to explore and learn about the human race, and at first he loved his job. he loved snow and grass and dogs and clouds and people, he loved people most of all. everything he saw was brand new to him and he loved all of it with his entire being. then he learned about pain, and sadness, and death, and war. he’s becoming Disillusioned with the world, and he hangs out with the world’s most dysfunctional group of teenage superheros ever, who are for the most part not the best at helping him through it. he causes a lot of Problems by being naïve and clueless and pacifistic to the extreme. because of some time travel fuckery, he’s now good friends with a teenager that his future self helped raise, and she’s trying to teach him about life in a gentle way. he’s younger than he appears in the picrew; i picture him looking about eight years old. you can listen to his playlist here, and you can view his pinterest aesthetic board here. 

4th and 5th are Sam/Beastie. she’s a murdered middle schooler who spontaneously resurrected into a huge horrible bird monster. when she was alive, she was a popular and athletic middle schooler who ran track and played pranks on her classmates with the help of her genius best friend, Sasha, created by @b-oredzoi. then one night she snuck out to walk to Sasha’s house, and along the way was kidnapped and brutally murdered. her corpse was dumped in a shallow grave in the woods, and after a few hours it shuddered and gasped and transformed into an alive but monstrous and memoryless creature that would come to be known as Beastie. she eventually reunited with Sasha a few years later, but Sasha didn’t recognize her and she didn’t remember Sasha. they ended up fighting crime together, and at some point Sasha realized who Beastie used to be, but doesn’t know how to change her back or if her former best friend is even still in there. (picrew credit here)

i have more OCs but these are my favorites... if you have read this far congratulations, you are a brave soul. i tag @rotwhyler @b-oredzoi @bisexual-mollymauk @silver-falling-star @1890s-kid and anyone else who wants to do it

[rosemarypasta]

always with me ♡

➤  pairing : kuroo tetsurou x kenma kozume

➤  warnings : drinking (legal), minor occupation spoilers from time skip

➤ tags: canon compliant, post graduation & time skip, lil angsty

➤  summary : “I promise.” Kuroo reassures the crying boy after his graduation. Being one year apart was always filled with uncertainty and good byes for the two childhood friends though the age gap has never successfully driven them apart until now. Despite making a mutual promise to never leave, is that really what’s best for them?

➤ chapter word count : 6322

♡ masterpost ♡

“With that being said, congratulations to the class of 2013 for graduating.” The lengthy speech given by the principal marks the end of the Nekoma third year students’ high school career.

Kenma Kozume, a second year who was watching the ceremony suddenly felt wetness on top of his hands that he had rested on his lap. He tilts his head up to see if there was a leak from the gymnasium’s ceiling but instead felt the droplets run from each side of his cheeks and down the sides of his neck.

“Dramatic much?” Kenma brings his head back down to face a certain black haired third year holding a scroll. He wipes his tears hastily before scowling a muffled “shut up” to the older boy.

The two walks home in similar manners like before. Just like how they used to come home for the last ten years of their lives. Walking in a slow pace with their shoes grazing against the concrete road but this time instead of Kuroo’s comments and Kenma’s low effort replies, it’s being filled with silence and occasional sniffles. Kuroo isn’t the type of guy to get awkward at the sight of silence, especially not with his best friend, but at this time, he didn’t know what to say. And when the two get closer and closer to their shared neighbourhood and Kenma’s footsteps abruptly stops while his sniffles get louder, Kuroo truly feels cornered.

Kenma, to begin with, never really showed his emotions on his sleeve so when he shows this side to the world once in a millennium, even a childhood friend can feel clueless. Does he make witty comments? Will that make it better or worse? Does he hug him? Knowing Kenma, he would probably beat the shit out of Kuroo.

But as the former volleyball captain watchs the setter burst into genuine tears, his body instinctively drops his belongings on the ground and rushes to engulf the smaller boy’s body. Realising that Kenma isn’t being the normal Kenma, he lets go of his worries of getting jabbed in the stomach by him.

“W-why are you hugging me.” He says sloppily, tears staining the taller’s shirt. “My body moved on it’s own.” Kuroo replies truthfully, letting Kenma bury his face into his chest.

He pats the setter’s back soothingly and allows him to stay in this position for as long as he wants. Kuroo allows himself to take the opportunity to twirl the bleached blonde hair with his fingers, something he always wanted to do ever since Kenma dyed his hair a year ago. It was unexpectedly soft for someone who has little to no cares about his appearance. As Kuroo expects, he says nothing but continues to weep into Kuroo’s shirt. A smile creeps up his face as he enjoys this rare side of his childhood best friend.

He sighs as he rests his chin on top of the younger’s head. “You know I won’t be moving out right? I’ll still hang out with you every weekend.” He chuckles. The setter pulls his head away from his chest for the first time to meet the older’s eyes with his teary ones. “Really? You promise?” His voice shaky and hoarse. The hopeful tone in his voice makes Kuroo sigh happily. “I promise.” He replies.

“C’mon! Lets get home.” He ends, patting the boy’s head before sliding down to grab his wrist. “Don’t touch my head.” Kenma mumbles bitterly as he reverts to his normal self, drying his face with his free arm. The scent of his best friend still lingering even when he had pulled away moments ago.

“Well, see you later.” Kuroo smiles at his sniffling friend as they arrive at the younger’s house. “See you.” He mumbles back before rushing into his own home.

Contrary to Kenma’s thoughts, he did see Kuroo again. They hung out nearly every other day for the entirety of the break they had before school started for the two of them. They spent most of the time in one of their homes and bedrooms playing video games but the two were more than acquainted with this routine. Afterall, befriending Kenma comes with a set of rules that involves the outdoors.

Kuroo turns around to laugh at his friend once again. “Were you always like this when I graduated ahead?” He grins as the wind from the coming train breezes through his hair as he stands in front of an unfamiliar platform. He expected a bitter comment from Kenma but instead watches him bury half his face into the scarf wrapped around his neck.

“You should go, don’t want you to be late on your first day of your third year right?” Kuroo smirks, patting the silent boy on the shoulder. The train on Kuro’s platform rushes through in front of the two before coming to a stop. The gates open and he immediately marchs in but gets unexpectedly restrained from the setter’s grasp. The younger boy had his head lowered, only showing his black roots to Kuro, his pale fist balled up with the corner of Kuroo’s jacket.

“See you this Saturday.” He announces to which the setter raises his head in surprise at the sudden promise made. His hand lets go of the university student’s jacket and allows him to board the train before walking alone to the platform he usually walked side by side with the older boy.

Months passed by quicker than the two had anticipated. And just as the two promised each other, both Kuroo and Kenma still hang out with each other routinely every weekend. Kuroo certainly doesn't mind hanging out with Kenma every weekend. While university is fun and new, having to go through the wildness and chaos for five days a week is more than enough for him. And he thought his volleyball club back in high school was chaotic.

The black haired boy was walking through the shopping district when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

Kenma: Are you not coming?

He chuckles lightly to himself at his friend’s text.

Kuroo: I am.

Kuroo: Just had to grab a few things for my old man.

Kuroo: be there in twenty

He slides his phone back in his pocket after he sees a content “ok” hand emoji sent by Kenma. He hoists the bags up in his arms, bracing them for a run back home before he sees a familiar mohawk and a tall russian boy.

“Yamamoto! Lev!” He calls out from across the street with a big grin on his face. He planned to be one of those alumni who stop by the school one too many times and observe the club to see how they were doing but university life was far more hectic than he predicted.

“Kuroo-san!” The two yell out in unison, scrambling across the road to greet their former captain. Kuroo takes a second to scan the current captain and future ace with a proud smile on his face. “Are you going to Kenma’s?” Yamamoto grins cheekily.

“How’d you know?” Kuroo asks back in curiosity.

“Man, how could we not know? All he does is talk about you! Kuro this, Kuro that. Man, you keep haunting us even after graduation huh?” Yamamoto grins cheekily at the Nekoma alumni, swinging his own shopping bag on top of his shoulder.

Kuroo smiles warmly. He was never the type to be a self-absorbed captain like Bokuto or Seijoh’s Oikawa but he did find it nice that he and his hard work isn’t forgotten by the younger generation.

“But Kuroo-san! You’d never believe what happened to Kenma-san th-” Lev enthusiastically shoves Yamamoto to the side , overbearing with excitement before Yamamoto shoves him back to his place with a scowl on his face. “Idiot, he's probably the first one to know about this.”  scoffs while Kuroo looks completely lost.

“What happened with Kenma?” He raises his brow at the two squabbling high schoolers.

“Kuro!”

Flustered with the sudden yell, Kuroo throws the manga he was holding in his hand up in the air. “Y-Yes?” He croaks out, grasping his fastly beating chest on the floor beside the bed. Kenma retreats from peeking from the edge to settling back to the corner of his bed before replying, “You’ve stayed at that page for five minutes straight now. Did you forget how to read?” He says in a monotone voice, his eyes already immersed back into the video game he had on the game console. Kuroo fumbles with his word to reply back with a wittily but ultimately had nothing to say. Knowing Kenma for most of his life, he knew he had already catched on.

“What’s wrong, Kuro.” The anticipated question finally came. Kuroo turns to meet the boy’s eyes but unable to as the other’s is being glued onto the screen of his phone. He crawls up on the bed to lie in front of Kenma casually and takes a long big sigh before speaking. “So, Um, what’s up with school? Is third year rough without me tutoring you every lunch period?” Kuroo’s mouth was dry but still persevered. “Nothing special, classes are fine, I eat lunch with Tora and Fukunaga now and the new first years are okay I guess.” He lists down, still occupied with the game he fiddles with his fingers.

Kuroo looks at his friend’s face in anticipation, watching his lips for any slight movement but Kenma’s mouth didn’t part.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Kuroo lies down on his back to see Kenma’s plain white ceiling. From first glance, it seemed ordinary and pristine but the longer one would look at it, anyone could see tiny black cracks that have formed in the corners of the white space from being lived in for too long.

Though it should be fine for now.

“Kuro, you’re acting weird. Just spill it out.” Kenma says out of frustration, even turning his phone off in the process. His cat-like eyes were now onto Kuroo’s ones which are now averting his gaze, choosing the ceiling instead.

Kuroo debates with his thoughts silently as he eyes the cracks on the ceiling but gives in to his curiosity. “So, who’s Kyoka-chan?” He tries to pass it off as calm and cool, adding a small series of snickers at the end of his question.

Kenma groans and buries his face in his hands at the presence of the girl’s name who is unfamiliar to Kuroo’s ears. “Izumi Kyoka, a girl from Tora’s class, She- Wait, how do you know about her anyways?” His speech got increasingly faster as each word left his mouth. Kuroo can tell he was trying to keep his cool but his bewildered eyes says otherwise.

“Yamamoto and Lev. I er..bumped into them before I went here.” Kuroo replies truthfully, getting another groan from the blonde setter who is in agony. “So, she confessed to you?” He finishes Kenma’s words for him, seeing as though Kenma would probably never complete them as he is busy with coming up with a plan when he meets his two teammates on Monday.

“Yeah. Said she started liking me because I returned her lost textbook once or something...I don’t really remember doing it though.” He explains in a low voice. Kuroo sits up straight as he sighs lightly, “So what did you say? When are you going on a date?” He playfully pats Kenma on the shoulder, rocking him side by side lightly.

“She asked to go on a date today but I obviously turned her down.”

“T-Today? What- why? Why did you turn her down?” Kuroo leans in eagerly, his eyes wide. He had never once received a love confession in high school so he was absolutely ecstatic at the news though an itchy feeling in his chest started to appear.

“Cuz I don’t want to go?” Kuroo looks at Kenma, astonished. He knew Kenma never was the type to be interested in relationships as he always dipped out of conversations when the topic of girlfriends and crushes came up when the volleyball team was rambling on random things during practice and late night talks in camps but Kuroo just figured he was shy about it and didn’t want to push him. It also occurs to Kuroo that Kenma never had a crush that Kuroo was aware of for all the years he had known him.

“And I had plans with you so…” He continues, mumbling as he continues his game.

“What?! I should be the least of your problems! We meet up every week anyway!” The older immediately yells, baffled at his friend’s priorities. “Yeah, and so? I’d rather hang out with you.” Kenma fires back, his eyebrows raised as he huffs at Kuroo.

Kuroo gulps back the lump in his throat, grabbing one of the pillows on the bed, “But it’s a girl.” He continues with a low voice, taken aback at how much he was fired up from Kenma’s words. “And?” Kenma puts an end to the conversation as he rolled his eyes, huffing back to lean against the wall to continue gaming.

The day progresses without any visible tension as the two continue reading and gaming on their own. The room only fills with occasional small talk and absent minded humming, just like every other week but as the sky slowly turns dark and Kenma sets Kuroo off back home. 

One thought floods Kuroo’s mind. There was no doubt that he was holding Kenma back and he had to do something.

Before it’s too late.

Seven days goes by in a blink and Kuroo waits for Kenma’s weekly text asking if they were going to hang out with a thumping heart as he spins in his chair in his bedroom. He chews on his bottom lips as he watches his phone screen he sets on his desk impatiently. He knows what he was doing is bad but it’s for a good cause. It’s for Kenma’s sake.

The university student almost falls over his chair as he rushes to grab his phone from the table as it lights up with a single notification on the screen. Kuroo’s eyes scan the limited words on the screen before typing the planned answer he had in his mind.

Kenma: You coming?

Kuroo bites his lip harshly as his thumb hovers above the send button on the right side of the blinding screen. He takes a double take and removes his thumb from the screen momentarily but remembers the words he said to him exactly seven days ago and forces himself to press the button.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He chants out harshly as the message sends. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or nervous as he saw that his message was officially sent and is on display on Kenma's screen.

Kuroo: Sorry I gotta pass. My mom asked me to run some errands for the whole day :(

Kenma: Okay

Kenma: See you next week then

Kuroo sinks into his chair once again after shutting his phone off. An ounce of regret settling into his heart though he knew it was for the best.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Kuroo dashes through the bustling street, chanting the same word over and over again as beads of sweat trickle down his face. His slick skin mirrors the various colors of neon lights displayed in front of the street of bars and restaurants. Kuroo stops sharply as his eye catches the sight of the familiar bar. He momentarily fixes his hair and brushes down his shirt before walking in the building, trying to calm his breathing down. He smiles at the host up front, signaling that he knows where to go and searches for room number 5.

After crossing the hallway for less than a minute, Kuroo initially planned to check his phone to confirm the room number but goes ahead and opens the door as he hears a series of familiar laughter and screams.

“Kuroo-san!” The room immediately chanted as he showed himself to the people in the room. A vivid yet slurred “You’re late!” fills his ears, causing the room to erupt into laughter once again. Kuroo rubs the back of his neck and apologizes sheepishly to the room of half drunk young adults. He turns his back to close the door to the private room Kai had booked beforehand and allows himself to switch modes to his fun and upbeat one, far different from the one he had moments ago while typing away on his computer.

seven years have passed since his high school graduation and the Nekoma volleyball team from when Kuroo used to be the captain of, decided to hold a spontaneous reunion. Kuroo kept in touch with most of his high school friends but being a young adult in an intense industry limits the free time he owns.

“Mr.Volleyball Association finally decided to show up huh? But I’m still surprised you didn’t go pro though.” A blonde haired libero grinned, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after taking a swig of his beer. The whole room agrees in unison as Kuroo makes his way through the crowd to sit in one of the remaining free spots which was in between Kai, who organised the whole thing, and Yamamoto. “Yeah, who knew you would be the one to make the national team!” Lev bluntly chuckles out, throwing his head back before earning a fist from the elder.

“Anyways, why were you late Kuroo-san? You were always the first person to arrive for morning practice back then.” Yamamoto’s bright eyes light up the room as he offers a bowl of edamame beans to his former captain. “Work ran late.” He lies casually, taking a string of beans after taking off his blazer and setting it aside. A month ago when the topic of a reunion was brought up in the usually silent 2013 nekoma group chat, Kuroo was excited to see his old teammates but with the adult world taking up all his time, he only remembered that the very same reunion he couldn’t wait to attend was happening twenty minutes ago when he finally took the time to check his phone after a session of overtime.

A waitress shortly approaches him and lets him order his drink of choice. While waiting for his order to arrive, his eyes scan the room to realize that there were two empty chairs “Well at least I’m not the latest one.” Kuroo grins towards Yamamoto as he simultaneously attempts to jog his memory to find the missing people. “Ah! That’s right! I wonder where they are. But I guess you would know where he is.” Yamamoto replies absentmindedly, pulling his phone out of his pocket to text the missing teammates. “Hm?” Kuroo’s eyebrow rises at the younger’s statement. What was he talking about? Kuroo only really talks to the other guys in his year, Lev and Yamamoto so he really wouldn’t know anything about the others. Who was he talking about?

“Oh! There they are!” The sound of the door sliding open accompanies Yamamoto’s exclamation. Everyone’s eyes including Kuroo’s turn towards the open door in anticipation for the late comers. Kuroo’s eyes light up at the sight of Fukunaga, remembering his junior but his expression quickly contorts to surprise as he caught a glimpse of the shorter man hiding behind the taller of the two.

Everyone stands to cheer at the last two to arrive, “Fukunaga! Kenma!” The room breaks into a chaotic series of chants as Kuroo feels himself sink into his seat deeper involuntarily in silence. The taller wing spiker enters the room first, making his way to a free seat beside Inuoka and Lev, revealing the setter whose face is covered by his own hair. No matter how much Kuroo wants to avoid eye contact, his eyes stay peeled at his old best friend still standing outside the room. He still stands in the awful posture Kuroo tried his best in fixing for the whole entirety of his high school career but his hair is much different now. It’s longer than the chin length he used to keep during his teens to the point where it nearly reaches his droopy shoulders. His hair is nearly all black and only the tips of his hair remain blonde from when he bleached his hair in his first year of high school. And unlike the majority of the room who were dressed in business attire from their nine to five jobs, the setter dressed in an oversized black hoodie and casual dark jeans with rips on both knees.

Kenma makes his way to his seat in between Inuoka and Shibayama, the seat right across Kuroo. He sits down comfortably in between his juniors, tucking his hair behind his left ear. A chill goes down Kuroo’s spine as the setter shoots a second of swift and sharp eye contact with him. Not giving the older time to react, he turns to both sides of his seat to greet his juniors, smiling brightly. Dumbfounded and overwhelmed, he feels relieved when the waitress comes over with his drink so he can at least pretend to be casual and busy himself as his chest tightens up.

He bites his lip as he realizes that he is the world’s biggest idiot and asshole. Seven years passed by and he had not spoken a single word to Kenma. Sure, Kenma could’ve taken the initiative if he was mad at Kuroo but he definitely should have at least popped in for a quick chat every once in a while. It was his idea to distance from Kenma but he didn’t mean to forget about him completely.

But was he upset? Is Kenma the type to get upset over these things? Kuroo’s eyes travel back up slowly towards Kenma’s direction and jump in his seat discretely as his eyes immediately meet the cold gaze of Kenma’s golden eyes. His half lidded cat eyes never felt so cold. Of course he was mad. Who was Kuroo kidding? He even made a promise to not leave him even though he graduated ahead and what did he do? He did the complete opposite of the promise.

“So Kenma-san! How are you doing? Are you eating well? I saw that your stream went until four in the morning! Must be nice to be self employed huh? Do you cook for yourself?” Lev bombards the setter with questions. Kuroo swears he could see a wagging tail and a matching pair of dog ears on the russian’s head. The room joins in with the middle blocker as the subject of the conversation curls in his seat. Kuroo chuckles at himself for a bit. He thought Kenma had gotten friendlier and closer to his teammates but this just shows how much he hasn't changed in a whole seven years. He was still the same old Kenma.

“Ah! I doubt Kenma-san would cook for himself so Kuroo-san would probably be the one to do it for him.” Lev proceeds to shift the conversation topic to the lone man sitting on the complete opposite side of the setter. Kuroo’s mouth felt dry as he attempted to find things to talk about. What were they talking about? He knows how much Kenma doesn’t take care of himself but he’s an adult now. To what extent does his laziness reach? And four AM? What job has those ridiculous hours? Is he really self employed? Kuroo feels shame pricking on his cheeks. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know a single thing about Kenma at this point.

Everyone’s eyes were on Kuroo. He swallows a lump in his throat as his eyebrow crooks up and down, attempting his best to answer the simple question. The answer is no. A simple two lettered word that’s supposed to roll off his tongue easily but the word struggles to come out. He sees Kenma’s expression, a smirk and an eyebrow raised, enjoying the tortured expression on Kuroo’s face.

“I um, I-” He chokes out before getting interrupted.

“He does sometimes. He makes pretty good beef stew.” A voice unexpectedly says, making all the heads in the room whip back towards Kenma. Kuroo stares at the setter wide eyed but he didn’t look back, looking casually as he smoothly changes the topic of the conversation to Fukunaga’s upcoming comedy show.

Kuroo had to take a double take for a second. It was a lie. He didn’t see Kenma for almost a decade but why did he lie for him like that? What benefit would that bring him? There are so many questions in Kuroo’s head and he feels like he could give up anything to lay down for a while to subdue his headache but alas, he was stuck in a high school reunion filled with overly loud and drunk young adults.

The night progresses like most of their old practice time. Lev and Yaku arguing, Yamamoto, Inuoka and Shibayama talking about girls and Fukunaga reciting some of his jokes. It was chaotic and loud to say the least. Kuroo attempts to push his anxiety away and talk to his old vice captain. He is thankful he was beside Kai, the most sane person even when drunk as he couldn’t possibly imagine if he had to keep up a conversation with Yamamoto or Yaku with the big headache he is having. At some point, with three mugs of beer down, Kuroo actually starts to enjoy himself.

But of course, this momentary bliss of catching up with his old friends does not last long.

Amidst the ruckus, a conversation from across the room sticks out louder than others. “C’mon Kenma-san~” The young silver haired model whines, dragging out the “san” as he had both of his oversized hands on Kenma’s small shoulders. “No, ugh, get off me, Lev.” Kenma huffs, trying to push Lev’s hands away with his elbows. “Pleaase! You’re so pretty, I’m sure they’ll let you in!” Lev continues, wrapping his long arms around Kenma’s neck, bringing their cheeks together to Kenma’s misfortune. Kuroo turns towards Yamamoto, who is currently laughing at the ordeal. “Lev is trying to get Kenma to model in a project he’s in.” Yamamoto explains in between laughs, clearly enjoying the scene. Kuroo joins with Yamamoto, he couldn’t deny it, seeing Kenma on a billboard in the middle of Shibuya will definitely give the whole Nekoma team material to laugh at. He would be the last person to be seen there.

“Ugh! Shut up already!” Kenma’s usually small voice booms as he slams his hands on the table, causing half empty glass mugs to clink with one another. The whole room turns silent, watching the ticked off setter stomp out of the room. “W-Where are you going? Lev! Cut it out!” Yaku speaks out in the middle of the stillness. “To smoke.” He replies casually before sliding the door closed harshly with a swift motion of his wrist.

As soon as Kenma leaves, all eyes turn towards Lev, who receives a stinging slap on his back from the senior libero. “Fine! Fine! I’ll find him.” Lev huffs like a child in the middle of a tantrum. “No, you’ll make things worse like you always do.” Yaku barked at the younger, “Kuroo, go. You always know what he’s thinking and what to say.” The blonde continues in a calmer tone, turning his head to Kuroo, who was as stunned as the rest of the group. He wanted to refuse, approaching someone you’ve never talked to in seven years who’s so clearly angry at him when he’s having a drunken fit? He’ll get a much more violent slap than what Lev received from Yaku, and he is certain that it won’t be on the back but alas, nothing goes his way. Before he could even get a say in it, Yamamoto was already pushing him up from his seat.

The anxiousness from earlier in the night begins to return to Kuroo’s body. He forces his legs with all his might to get up and walk out to find his “best friend”. He exits the bar and checks one of the alleys, bracing himself for a slap or two on the face once he does find Kenma. The left alley is filled with unidentified smokers, Kuroo doubts that Kenma would be around there so he walks over to the other one.

He pops his head hesitantly into the right alley to get a scene of the man he was looking for, alone with his phone in his hands leaning against the building beside the bar. Kuroo takes a deep breath before entering the dark cramped space, walking over to lean against the wall right in front of the younger.

“Not smoking?” Kuroo starts, getting rid of the awkward silence as Kenma didn’t bother to raise his head at the arrival of his old childhood friend. “I don’t do all that. I just said that to get away.” He says with his signature small voice, letting a second of silence pass by before replying.

“Why? Do you?”

“Huh? M-Me? No way.” Kuroo replies a second too fast, as if he was a teenager getting caught smoking in the boy’s bathroom by a teacher. “Guess we don��t know anything about each other, huh?” He continues to sound casual, following his words with a stiff series of chuckles.

You always know what he’s thinking and what to say? Yeah right. Kuroo didn’t even know if he graduated high school or actually dropped out halfway through third year to become a full time gamer like he always whined about when Kuroo tutored him for upcoming tests.

Kenma raises his face from his phone, staring at the taller man in a dress shirt with a deadpan expression, “And who’s fault do you think that is?” He spits out, his voice louder than before. A cold gush of the Tokyo air accompanies the setter’s words.

Kuroo bites his tongue as his head droops down to face his shoes. He’s right, he is an asshole. He’d want to slap himself too if he were in Kenma’s shoes. He digs his shoes deeper into the concrete, his whole body feels like it’s on fire but simultaneously felt so cold. “I’m sorry.” Kuroo whispers out the only two words he can say.

“You’re sorry?” Kenma scoffs, anger evident in his voice. “You think a mere sorry can make up for the whole seven years you left me all alone? Glad to know your idiot brain never changed over all these years cause that’s pretty much the only thing I know about you now.” His voice keeps rising as each word leaves his lips. “No calls, no texts, no nothing!” He was practically yelling at this point. Kuroo was for once grateful that Friday nights were always loud so no one would hear the setter’s yells.

“And what about you, huh? You didn’t try either. It’s always me, me, me, doing things in this friendship!” Kuroo barks back through gritted teeth, finally changing his view from the ground to the angered man. “And I did it for your sake! But of course, you’re too selfish to realize that!” He scoffs.

“Excuse me? For my sake?” His voice starts out low. Despite it being so loud outside, his voice is clearer than ever in Kuroo’s half drunken ears. Even with the limited light outside, Kuroo can see how the setter’s eyes are wide open, bewildered at the older’s words. “Don’t act like you know me because you don't.” He staggers closer to Kuroo, footsteps heavy. “You know nothing.” He yells just inches away from Kuroo’s face, jabbing his finger into the stunned man’s chest.

The two stay inches away for a minute, both panting after screaming their lungs out. “Stay away from me.” The long haired man whispers, his voice threatening to break. He pulls back and takes a sharp turn, fumbling with his phone as he makes his way out of the alley. “W-Where are you going?” Kuroo croaks out, trying his best to stay angry though the sight of the skinny man stumbling with his steps out got the better of him. “Home, you dipshit!” Kenma yells out once again.

Kuroo watches as the setter almost makes his way out but catches him trip on his own foot. He rushes with all his might, propping his hand behind the man’s back. Kuroo, being so immersed in his feelings, didn’t realize how drunk Kenma was looking. Even under the darkness over the midnight sky, he can still see that his face is flushed red and his eyes are barely open.

“Get off me.” He mutters angrily, though his tone is nowhere as threatening as before.

Kuroo hesitates before sighing at the man who was still limp in his arms. “I’ll get you home.” He says calmly, expecting Kenma to retaliate and slap his face but he unexpectedly stays quiet almost as if he admits defeat.

After awkwardly shooting a text to Kai explaining half of the situation and asking him for a favor to secretly bring his bag out, the two childhood friends manage to get into a taxi. “Where to, sir?” The driver upfront starts right as Kuroo closes the door behind him after hauling a half conscious Kenma in the back seat. “Ah, um.” Kuroo replies, trying to remember the address to Kenma’s old house. “I moved out. My address is in my notes.” He grumbles out with a small voice despite being asked, waving his phone in Kuroo’s face.

“But what’s your pas-” He asks in a panic, worrying that Kenma would fall asleep though his sentences were cut short, just realizing how his fingers have subconsciously tapped in the correct password to his phone. He scoffs to himself as he goes through the notes app in Kenma’s phone, amused at the fact that he had yet to change his password code since he got his very first smartphone back in high school.

The two embark on the journey after Kuroo manages to find the address and recite it to the driver upfront. He didn’t know where it was as he has never been there or even which apartment number Kenma stays at since it isn’t listed in the note. The uncertainty brought dampness to his palms.

His eyes wander to the younger man knocked out beside him. His head is tilted to rest on the opposing door to Kuroo. As bright street light passes by, illuminating the contents of the silent taxi momentarily, Kuroo can see Kenma’s face properly for the first time tonight and Lev was right.

He did look pretty.

From a quick glance, one would think not much changed with him but once you get past the distracting locks of hair, his features did change. His jawline is much more defined after going through puberty. His lips look plumper than before and his eyelashes appear longer, not that Kuroo ever really paid attention to him in the past but he was certain that if they were that long back then, he would have noticed. Even sleeping, he has Kuroo’s eyes peeled on him. Kuroo’s only half sober mind debates on waking Kenma up so he could see his cat like eyes properly but decides to want to live another day.

The car ride takes longer than Kuroo had anticipated. Nearly dozing off a few times but managing to stay awake, the car slowly comes to stop nearly an hour after. Kuroo gulps a lump in his throat when he looks out the window. “We’re in the right place, r-right?” He timidly questions the driver upfront. The car is parked in what seems like the middle of the woods, in front of a dark traditional japanese estate.

Kuroo manages to pay the fare and sling Kenma’s arm around his neck. He drags both his and Kenma’s body in front of the front door. The elder holds his breath before fishing through the unconscious’ pockets for the key to, hopefully, this house, seeming how he appears to not bring anything aside from himself and his phone.

He lets out a sigh of relief as the key he found in Kenma’s back pocket fits perfectly with the front door, letting him in. He shakes his own shoes off and carefully removes Kenma’s ones. “My room’s down the hall.” He mutters as he feels Kuroo’s head turn around in all directions to attempt finding the bedroom. The middle blocker’s cheeks heats up slightly while dragging Kenma into his bedroom.

So he was awake when I literally felt up his body for the keys?

Kuroo’s ears were still red when he plops Kenma’s half awake body in the middle of his king sized bed. He watches for a while how the man wiggles in the comfort of his own bed and buries his face into his duvet.

“I um, I’ll go now.” Kuroo states, not expecting an answer. He turns on his heel to head out the door but unexpectedly gets slammed by a pillow on the head before doing so. Confused, he turns around while rubbing his head to see a sight of the long haired man sitting cross legged on the bed with his head tilted down.

“Don’t leave.” he croaks out silently.

Kuroo rushes over to the man in the black hoodie as he sees something glimmering fall down from his head to his hands. He naturally cradles Kenma’s head into his own neck. It’s his first time seeing him cry in seven years. “Are you still drunk?” He asks slowly, with amusement in his voice though he didn’t get an answer. Instead, muffled sniffles fill the room.

“Don’t leave me.” Kenma says a little louder this time. The vibrations made against Kuroo’s neck made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “I won’t.” He replies, his breath staggering.

“You’re always with me.”

A/N: I’d like to thank the Kenma episode of Haikyuu season four for giving me enough serotonin to finish this fic despite my HEAVILY PACKED schedule as a high school senior <3 means a lot. 

Anyways, thank you for reading my first kuroken fic! I was too accustomed to writing Tsukkiyama dynamics so I had a hard time writing this. This is also my first time ever in my life not writing in past tense so please forgive me if I made any mistakes lmao. Bilingual culture gets to me sometimes :’) I also proof read this in the middle of class so ignore any errors!

Thank you again and see you in my next fic (which is most likely tsukkiyama again cuz this shit is too hard)!

taglist (dm or send an ask to be tagged):

@teasbees-knees​ @yeetabish​ @kirishimakenma

[grapesodatozier]

a million little times

pairing: wheelclair

summary: lucas joins the football team and makes some new friends. it takes a bit for mike to realize why this makes him so upset

words: 3,575

rating: teen and up

tags: jealousy, modern high school au, underage drinking, pining, angst with a happy ending, title from illicit affairs by taylor swift

read on ao3 or below!

Mike was happy for Lucas, he really was. He was confused, sure, but he was happy for him. If Lucas really did want to play football, then that was great for him, and Mike was glad he was doing things that made him happy. He just would’ve been happier about it if football wasn’t such a fucking cult.

Lucas had practice three or four days a week and games once or twice a week, which meant that the time he had with the party was cut severely. Sure, they could hang out after dinner, and during lunch, and on the weekends, but it was still a lot to adjust to. Mike missed riding home with Lucas, he missed that little stretch of the ride when it was just the two of them. Sure, Mike had the car now that Nancy was away at college, so he wasn’t riding home anyway, but he had been excited about giving Lucas rides home, about taking the long way and getting slushies if they were feeling like it. But now he couldn’t, because Lucas didn’t get home until just around dinner time. And one of his football friends drove him home. Mike knew because he could see him getting dropped off from his window, he could see Lucas smiling at whoever was in the driver’s seat, his huge bag of equipment slung over his shoulder. It made Mike’s chest ache. 

It was even worse when he had to see him hanging out with them in school. Lucas still hung around Mike’s locker with the rest of the party most days, but now sometimes Mike would look around for him and find him down the hall surrounded by a group of people that was obnoxiously large for the small hallways of their school. 

It started making Mike angry when Lucas skipped out on lunch with them one day. He hadn’t even said anything, he was just suddenly not at their table, and Mike could see him across the room, hamming it up with this group of jock assholes. He even got one of those pretentious varsity jackets. Mike was only snapped out of his head because he was so tense about the whole thing he ended up biting his tongue so hard it nearly bled. It didn’t help that Dustin, Max, El, and Will were all joking about how Lucas was popular now, how he’d rigged the social ladder. Like this was funny. Like it was all some big joke that Lucas wasn’t sitting with them. 

If Mike was a bit short with Lucas later that day in chemistry, Lucas didn’t say anything about it.

The only thing that made Mike warm up to the idea was watching Lucas’s games. He loved watching him, loved that proud smile he got on his face. Pride welled in Mike’s chest when Lucas made a play, even if something more bitter stirred in his stomach when his teammates jumped on him to congratulate him. 

By October, Mike was still adjusting to Lucas’s new status. He was just getting the hang of it, seeing Lucas on the weekends and going to his games on Fridays, having lunch with him three days a week instead of five, accepting that he had to share him, when Lucas flipped his world upside down again.

“A party?” Mike asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. 

“Yes, a party,” Lucas grinned. “You’re familiar with the concept?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “In theory.”

“We’re invited to a party?” Dustin cut in. Mike was secretly pleased that Dustin seemed to be as disbelieving as he was.

“Yeah, Mark’s parents are out of town so he told me to invite as many people as I want.”

“I’ll go if there’s vodka, but I’m not drinking beer,” Will said, making a face. 

Lucas laughed. “Trust me, there will be vodka.” He said it so confidently, like he’d been to so many parties. It made Mike wonder how many he had been to. He thought it was only two. Not that he’d been counting.

“I’ll go if El comes,” Max said, giving El an expectant and mischievous look.

Come on, El, Mike willed her silently. El wasn’t a party type. El was a sit quietly and watch romance movies with ice cream on a Saturday night type. She liked small get-togethers. She would say no, and then Max would say no, and then Mike could spend Saturday night with them.

“Why not,” El shrugged with a small smile.

Traitor, Mike thought to himself bitterly.

“Mike, you in?” Lucas asked. His hand on Mike’s shoulder made his heart race.

Mike sighed. “I guess you guys are gonna need a DD.”

The rest of them cheered as Mike crossed his arms. He really wasn’t looking forward to a house full of football bros sweating beer, but at least he would be with his friends, at least he could make sure they all got home safe. And if he was driving, he’d be dropping Lucas off last; he was looking forward to that.

Still, being the sober one sucked. His friends were all light weights, and they were all trashed within the first hour. Mike was awkward enough as it was; being the only sober one in a room full of people who didn’t even bother to glance his way made that awkwardness weigh on him all that much more. Lucas noticed, and he tried to get Mike to play pong with him, but Mike was horrendously bad, and the other team obliterated them. It made Mike’s cheeks burn with shame, and he left to subject himself to Dustin and Max’s drunk dancing. At least letting them push him around to Britney Spears while El and Will laughed and twirled each other around much more tamely made him feel a little better.

But then the night took a sharp turn south. 

There Mike was, trying not to topple over as his shorter friends jumped around him, when he looked up to search for Lucas. Maybe he would help Mike escape. But as soon as Mike found him, it became crystal clear that running to Lucas was not an option. Because he was busy making out with one of the guys on the cheerleading team.

Mike’s head spun. He hadn’t even known Lucas liked guys, not really. Sure, he’d mentioned something in passing once that made Mike’s ears perk up, but he’d never mentioned it again, never explicitly, and Mike wasn’t gonna push it. But this… this was not how Mike wanted to find out. And he also never needed to know that Lucas’s type was apparently cheerleaders. Fuck, he liked graceful, flexible, fit, cool people. Of course he fucking did. Who didn’t? 

Mike made up an excuse about finding a bathroom and broke away from his friends, rushing to a door, any door that would take him outside. The air inside was too stale; he needed something fresh, he needed to catch his breath and not vomit and maybe cry. Why did he need to cry? He didn’t. He was just… upset that Lucas didn’t tell him. Yeah. 

His legs carried him away from the party, the music getting quieter and quieter until he was down the street and couldn’t hear it anymore. He knew he shouldn’t go far, his friends needed him to drive them home, but there was an elementary school just a block away, and he really needed a place to sit that wasn’t on some random family’s lawn. He barely registered the world around him as sidewalk became soccer field, as the streetlights gave way to a night much darker. For whatever reason, he made a beeline for those seats that spin around. Probably a horribly dangerous thing to give children. An even worse thing to give drunk people; Mike was glad no one at the party had seemed to have the same idea as him yet. He collapsed onto the too-small seat and let his toes drag through the woodchips, holding on tight to the sides as he rocked slowly back and forth. He’d have to go back soon. But he couldn’t just then. In that moment, he just needed to sit his ass down on an elementary school playground and look at the stars while slowly spinning around. He needed to keep himself from driving home and leaving all his friends without a ride. God, he just wanted to fucking go home. 

Dustin ended up drunk calling him a few minutes later, and Mike had to make up some excuse about the line for the bathroom being too long and needing to pee in a bush. He took a deep breath before standing up, the night air helping to calm his racing heart. But his feet were unsteady as he stood and began walking back, and he had a feeling that a few deep breaths weren’t really gonna fix this problem. 

The way El and Dustin hugged him when he returned made him feel a little better, and at least Lucas had returned to the group, apparently done sucking face with that cheerleader guy. Still though, Mike couldn’t look at him without feeling sick. 

“There you are!” Lucas beamed. As if he had been looking for him.

Mike busied himself with gently shrugging El and Dustin off so he could go to Will, who was swaying on his feet, a far off look in his eyes. Mike put an arm around his shoulders, and he immediately leaned into Mike’s side. Will gave him an unfocused smile. “You okay?” Mike asked. When Will nodded he continued, “You ready to go home?” Will nodded again, and Mike looked up to consult the group. “Everyone ready to go?” Max gave an indignant whine, but El and Dustin nodded, and Lucas slung his arm around Max’s shoulders and steered her toward the door. Mike followed, helping Will down the stairs and into the car. If he was being honest he probably didn’t need to, but he needed to feel needed just then. 

He did the rounds, made sure everyone got in safe with reminders to not sleep on their backs, until it was just him and Lucas, drawing patterns on the passenger side window. “So?” Lucas asked with a grin.

“What?” Mike bristled.

“Did you have fun?”

Mike’s stomach turned. “Seemed like you did.”

Lucas gave him a look. “Yeah.”

Mike really tried to bite it back, but he had to know. “Who even was that guy?”

Lucas smirked. “You mean Andy?”

“If Andy is the cheerleader you were making out with, then yeah. Are you like… are you into him?”

Lucas shrugged. “He’s cute. He was a pretty okay kisser.” God, as if Lucas was kissing all these people Mike didn’t even know. Fuck, was he? “Where did you run off to?”

“I had to pee,” Mike murmured. Lucas gave a small laugh and teased him, poking him until he was swatting him away, a reluctant smile fighting its way onto his face. 

“I’m sorry you were sober, man,” Lucas said, settling back down. “We’ll get you trashed next time.”

“Yeah, sounds fun,” Mike said. He really tried to make it convincing, but he wasn’t sure it worked. 

They were pulling up to Lucas’s house now, but it wasn’t at all the scene Mike had pictured the day before. He didn’t want Lucas to linger right now. He really just wanted to be in bed. Luckily, Lucas got out pretty quickly, shooting Mike a slightly slurred thank you for driving before closing the door, leaving Mike to himself.

It ate at Mike for days, and he was pretty sure it showed, but he didn’t care. Max asked him about, but she always knew when there was something bothering him. She could tell because he acted the same way she acted when she was upset. But he brushed her off, probably a little more harshly than necessary, and she dropped it. El bought him a cookie at lunch and rested her head on his shoulder, but didn’t say anything, which Mike was grateful for. 

He appreciated it, he really did, but none of it helped. He couldn’t get the image of Lucas’s hands on that guy’s waist out of his mind. Looking at Lucas, knowing Lucas wasn’t looking back at him and seeing in Mike what Mike saw in him, was almost unbearable. So he didn’t.

The final breaking point came that Friday. They were all gathered around Will’s locker, discussing their weekend plans, when Lucas casually dropped that he wouldn’t be able to come to the arcade with them that weekend.

“What?” Mike blurted, unable to stop himself. He hated that he could hear the way his voice broke, that it was probably obvious to everyone around him.

Lucas was clearly taken aback, but his skeptical expression softened as he said, “I’m sorry, man, but the guys are going to this Halloween fest thing and it’s kind of an all day thing, I won’t be back until late.”

Mike’s blood was boiling. His throat was closing up. He hadn’t looked at Lucas more than a handful of times that week, but now he couldn’t look away. “But… but you said…” Mike’s voice broke again. He didn’t know where that sentence was going. He said what? He never said anything. They had never had to say anything before, it was an unspoken agreement that Saturday was arcade day with the party. 

“Mike, we always go to the arcade on Saturday.” Lucas had a sympathetic look on his face that just made Mike angrier.

“Exactly! We always go to the arcade on Saturday!” He was getting hysterical now, he knew it, but he was helpless to it.

“I’ll be there next Saturday,” Lucas tried.

“Will you?”

Mike turned and broke out of the group, striding down the hallway. He was done with this conversation. He was done with Lucas bailing on them. If he wanted to replace them so bad he could just do it, he didn’t have to draw it out like some kind of fucking sadist. His cheeks burned as he heard Lucas call after him, then Dustin’s quiet, “Let him go, man.” Mike wasn’t sure if he was happy or furious or heartbroken that none of them followed him. The solitude of his car helped him breathe a little easier, but he probably shouldn’t have been driving, because his heart was racing and there were tears forming behind his eyes and he had that urge to throw and punch and kick things that he got whenever he was hurting. 

He got to his house in one piece and ignored his mom when she asked him why he was home on a Friday afternoon. He slammed his door shut and threw himself down on his bed. 

And that’s where he was Saturday morning, lying in his bed kicking absently up at the top bunk. That’s what he was doing when he heard a knock on the door. “I’m not hungry,” he called. He heaved an exasperated sigh when the door opened anyway. “Mom, I don’t—”

“Not your mom.” Mike sat up, his heart in his throat. Lucas was standing in the doorway, was stepping in and closing the door behind him. And he had a fucking smile on his face. “At least, according to Maury.”

“Funny,” Mike said blandly as he sat up. “What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be on a hayride with the guys right now?” He didn’t wanna sneer at him, but he’d never had much control over things like that. 

Lucas shrugged and leaned against Mike’s dresser, his arms crossed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Mike froze. “About what?”

“About what?” Lucas scoffed. “About that way you threw a tantrum yesterday. About the fact that you’ve barely spoken to me since the party on Saturday.” 

Mike shook his head. God, that fucking party. “You didn’t wanna talk to me when you had your tongue down that guy’s throat.” 

A moment of tense silence passed between them, Mike’s bitter tone hanging in the air. “Is that why you’re mad? Because I made out with a guy?” The hurt in Lucas’s voice made all of Mike’s anger disappear in an instant.

“What? No! Of course not, you think I’d be mad about that?”

“Well then what’s your issue? What did I do wrong?” His voice was rising now, and that only made Mike feel more panicked. His room felt too small. How was he supposed to explain?

“I miss you.” Mike had wanted to scream it, but it came out sounding just as small and vulnerable as he was feeling.

Lucas’s face fell, his eyes scanning over Mike’s, trying to decipher what he was saying. “I’m right here, man. I’m not ditching you. I’ve got some new friends now, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. Nothing has to change.”

“But everything already has changed!” Mike broke. He couldn’t help the tears that were gathering in his eyes now. “I used to know… We used to… You know so many people I don’t now, and they’re cool, and I used to know everything about you and now you’re kissing guys, you’re kissing guys who are hot and cool like you. You’re my best friend, and I was yours but now you’re gonna outgrow me and you’ll never… I never… and now I can’t…” Mike was crying hard now, so hard he didn’t realize Lucas was kneeling in front of him until he felt Lucas’s hands on his forearms, gently pulling his hands away from his face so that he could wipe Mike’s tears away. Mike hiccuped and blinked as Lucas came somewhat into focus in front of him.

“Mike… you’ll always be my best friend. Yeah, some things are changing, but that’s not.”

Lucas’s soft tone helped, but they were just words. And besides, there was something else Mike wanted, something that was getting farther and farther from him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He felt like he was stuck on one of those conveyor belts in the airport but it was going the wrong direction, and he didn’t know how to get off or go back. His heart was racing, and he was gonna start crying again, panicked. Panicked about Lucas kissing someone else, about him wanting other people. How could Mike make him understand? He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but if it was his last chance, if it was the only way to make Lucas understand—

So then his hands were on Lucas’s face, and he was bringing their lips together with all of the hurry and panic and adrenaline he was feeling. He reeled back just as fast, slamming himself against the wall behind him, looking at Lucas’s surprised face in horror. “Oh god, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Mike,” Lucas said firmly, his hands finding Mike’s wrists again. He pulled Mike gently back toward him and cupped his face.

“Yeah?” Mike’s voice was small and watery, shaking like his hands had been until Lucas steadied them, his hands strong and gentle at the same time.

Lucas smiled then. Something like wonder was passing through his eyes, slowly, as he met Mike’s eyes. “I… I liked—yeah, will you do that again?”

Mike eyebrows shot up behind his fringe. “Seriously?”

“Yeah” Lucas nodded, sweet and awkward smile on his face. And wow, Mike never thought he’d see the day he made Lucas flustered. But he got through his shock and leaned forward, tentatively this time, and brought their lips back together.

And wow. It was perfect. It was soft and unsure at first, and Mike’s eyes were open as he watched Lucas’s reaction. But once Lucas started kissing him back Mike let his eyes flutter shut, let himself sink into it. He let himself focus only on the way Lucas was kissing him, the way his hands felt cradling Mike’s face. He ran his hands lightly over Lucas’s arms, admiring the muscles that lay under the soft fabric of his shirt. Once they both got the hang of it, their lips began to lock together, the kiss deepening. Mike twisted Lucas’s shirt between his fingers. Eventually Lucas pulled away, and Mike took a moment before opening his eyes, his lips still parted, seeking more. 

“Wow… I did not know you felt the same way,” Lucas said, smiling and flushed.

Mike shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his lips. “I think I always have.”

They both laughed and kissed each other again, just a few soft pecks, still getting used to it.

“So…” Lucas said with a teasing smirk, running his hand over Mike’s chest, “what was that you were saying about me being hot and cool?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mike groaned, his cheeks on fire as he slung his pillow at Lucas. God, he missed this, the sight of Lucas laughing on his bedroom floor. He was looking forward to even more mornings like this, and afternoons, and nights. 

Max had a field day on Monday when Mike came into school practically drowning in Lucas’s varsity jacket, but Mike didn’t even mind. He never thought he’d be dating a football player, but as Lucas wrapped his arms around him, strong and sure, the smell of his laundry detergent sticking to the jacket all day as Mike went from class to class, he figured maybe sometimes change could be nice.

taglist: (sorry i only remember this half the time lmao) @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @eddieeatsass @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @thelazyeye  @montconde @fizzylemones @lexinatorwrites 

[peteywillproceed]

“We Were On A Break!” - Part 2

Author’s Note: It’s here! I’ve been so excited to upload this! Thank you again for all the amazing support so far, I can’t believe we hit a hundred followers already! You’re all so so amazing! As usual, let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list, and I hope you enjoy x

Summary: Tom might’ve broken your heart, but the prospect of you moving to another country changes everything (kinda Friends TV show crossover!)

Word Count: 4,720

Read Part 1 First

Turns out, you wouldn’t.

Mostly because Tom couldn’t keep his hands off alcohol. But also because he couldn’t keep his promises either.

Your eyes fluttered open to face an empty bed. It was cold and the covers were gone, and you felt a little furrow of confusion work its way through your brow. You were used to waking up alone when you’d been together, but some how you’d thought this might change things – that he might finally do the half decent thing and bring you some coffee.

But the open door reminded you that to Tom, you’d never be someone he brought coffee to. You were the person that fixed him up when he was pissed, told him how great he was when he was sad. Yet when it came to you, he couldn’t even find it in his heart to stay a little while.

“Tom?” you called, frustration and sleep coating your voice. You groaned, feeling your muscles protest as you sat up, grimacing at the tight jeans and unforgiving fabric of last night’s clothes. You were still half hoping he might just be in the bathroom, but when loud voices drifted up the stairs, cheers from boys still a little drunk from the night before ringing in your ears, you wondered how you’d let him suck you into this in the first place.

In a huff, you threw yourself out of the bed and grabbed your jacket, double checking none of the sneaky bastards downstairs had helped themselves to your purse. A glance at your phone reminded you you’d never told Sarah where you’d ended up last night, and even Cameron had blown it up with calls. Regardless, you’d missed your first lecture, and you wanted to curse Tom for getting under your skin again.

Poking your head out of the door, you wondered if you could just make a dash for it down the stairs. Doing the walk of shame at 10am in the morning when the only thing you had to be ashamed of was how gullible you were wasn’t exactly an experience you were thrilled about, but here you were. You started sneaking away as fast as you could, making it to the door before a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Harrison,” you sighed, dropping the handle in defeat. You glanced past his shoulder to make sure no one else had heard him and put a finger to your lips.

“Are you and Tom back together?” he whispered, eyes lighting up in excitement, and you hastily shook your head.

“No way. I made a mistake last night, probably not the one you think. Now would you save me the embarrassment of having to talk to him?”

Harrison raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he poked his cheek with his tongue. “You want me to let my best friend make a stupid arse mistake and let you go?”

“Yes?” you said, voice filled with hope, internally screaming as he rolled his eyes.

“Hurry up then, I guess. He’s gonna go for his morning run in about thirty seconds.”

Throwing your head back in relief, you grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up, twisting the handle and darting from the house just in time. As the door clicked shut, you caught the remnants of Harrison brushing off a confused Tom, covering your back as he told him it was just the postman.

As you practically ran down the street, you tried to push Tom to the back of your mind. He was the last person you wanted to deal with right now, and whatever games he was playing could wait. You had bigger priorities right now, and you intended to not let Tom push you about anymore. That was the last time you let him write the rules; from now on, you were in charge.

You turned left at the end of the street, shoving your way into the familiar café on the high street. Your brain was all kinds of messed up, and before you could even start to think about processing last night you needed a huge mug of coffee and the internet.

“Hey, Gunther,” you smiled, ignoring the awe struck look he gave you. “Medium americano to sit in please.”

“Sure, Y/n. No Sarah today? I, uh, kept the sofa free for you.” You followed where he pointed, but there was basically no need for his reserved sign. The café was practically empty.

“Err thanks. But I just need a computer today.”

“Sure, sure. On the house, I’ll bring your drink over in a bit.” He winked at you as you started over towards the computer bar and nabbed the one closest to the radiator, relief washing over you as warmth covered your frozen body.

You tapped your leg impatiently as you waited for it to boot up, annoyed you’d forgotten your phone charger. You were waiting on what could have been the most important email you’d ever receive in your life, and the deadline was last night. You’d been meaning to keep an eye on it all night, but then things had gotten weird with Tom and you’d just forgotten about it.

Studying physics was the hardest but most rewarding thing you’d ever done, but you were graduating and you needed somewhere to keep pushing your mind. So when your professor had brought up that he needed an assistant to work on a PhD program with him in France, you’d jumped at the chance – travel the world, and get an awesome qualification at the same time. All you’d needed was the funding, and today was the day you would know if everything you’d worked for was coming true.

You were holding your breath as the gmail screen loaded, barely acknowledging Gunther’s comment as he set your coffee down beside you. All you could focus on was the string of black text crossing your screen as your eyes scanned the page and took in what it was saying.

“Dear Miss Y/l/n, congratulations, we are delighted to award you the grant to support your further studies in Paris – OH MY GOD!” You screamed in amazement, choking back sobs as all three of the people in the café turned to stare at you. Jesus, you’d done it. Actually done it. You were going to Paris! PARIS! To study the stars! For free!

Your heart was pounding and you could hear the blood racing in your ears. In a haze of blissful amazement, you snatched your phone of the table to call your mum, before remembering it was dead. You could hardly remember getting to your feet and rushing towards the café’s landline, punching in the only number you could remember.

“Y/n? Oh my god! Where’ve you been? We’ve been so worried, we even called your mum thinking you were back there!” Sarah’s panicked voice screamed through the phone, and you wondered how on earth she knew it was you calling.

“Shh, Sarah, shh just be quiet for a sec, okay? I did it! I got the grant! I’m going to Paris!”

There was stunned silence on the other end of the phone, before she too erupted into a set of screams so deafening you had to hold the phone away from your ear. “Y/n that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! Have you told your mum?”

“No, my phone’s dead and yours was the only number I could remember!” You giggled, relieved to hear Sarah burst into laughter too.

“Oh God, maybe you should call her. She thinks you’ve been kidnapped!”

You rang off quickly, slumping against the wall, overwhelmed by the whole morning. In just the space of a few hours, you’d gone from utterly humiliated to high on happiness and amazement. You’d worked so hard for this, put in so many extra hours just to get half way to where you were today. And here were the results, your future, all laid out in front of you like a pretty picture.

You were going to Paris, to do something you’d always dreamed of doing, ex-boyfriend be damned.

***

A few days later, you were spread out on your bed, putting away the last of your revision notes when you heard the knock on your bedroom door. Figuring it was Sarah who’d forgot her keys, you turned down the music you had playing softly in the background, and called out to her.

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on, numpty,” you laughed, snatching the keys off her desk and heading towards the door.

“Err, actually Y/n, it’s me.”

Your hand froze halfway to the door handle, your body rigid with a strange concoction of fear and excitement. You hadn’t heard his deep, velvety voice since last week, and you hated the way the sound sent shivers through your body. You could almost picture him, slumped against the door frame, his fist hovering over the ‘do not disturb’ sign in his usual deliberate ignoring of the rules.

“What, Tom?” you sighed, flinging the door open. God, you didn’t have time for this. You were leaving for Paris in just over a week and you still hadn’t packed half your stuff.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked, his face unreadable. If he was anything, you would have said he looked scared, and the realisation made you start with the shock of seeing him anything other than cocky.

“If you make it quick, I’m busy,” you snapped, standing to one side to let him in.

“Thanks.”

You clicked your tongue and let the door slam shut, folding your arms as he started looking around your room. He trailed his hands over your bed, and you shuddered at the unwelcome memories that flooded your head, the feeling of his cool fingers against your skin and the familiar, lustful stare he’d always had drowning out any sense of resolve you thought you’d had.

Somehow, you pulled it together enough you jerk him out of his trance. “Well?”

“You’re going to Paris?” he spun around, his tone so accusatory you wanted to slap him. What right did he have to have feelings about your future? When he’d given all that up with just a few words months ago?

“If you must know, yes, I am. It’s for a PhD.”

He snorted and you grit your teeth, about to kick him out if he said anything stupid. “Good, that’s…good. I know you always wanted to do that.”

“Thanks.”  You let out the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding and pursed your lips.

He looked to the side, hunching his shoulders as if he had far more to say but didn’t know if it was smart to say it. You could see the indecision in his eyes, feeling quietly pleased your choice had unsettled him; finally, he was the one being wrong footed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I didn’t realise I had to run every decision I made by my ex-boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes, restraining yourself from snapping too much.

“It hurt a lot hearing it from Harrison.”

You nodded, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel sympathetic. You didn’t know why he felt like he had such a right to your life, when he’d made it blatantly clear he didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. You fiddled with the rings on your fingers at his comments, trying to clear your head enough to form a coherent answer.

“I can’t say I’m sorry, Tom,” you sighed at last, and he nodded. “I don’t know what you want me to say if I’m honest. You ended things and I’m moving on. I’ve got things to be getting on with and they don’t involve you, so I don’t feel overly inclined to keep you updated on my schedule.”

As you spoke, you could feel the anger bubbling up inside you, and you fought to keep it down. You’d worked so hard to make things right, to make it seem like you couldn’t give a damn anymore, and you refused to crumble at the last hurdle.

“I get that,” he nodded. “When did you find out?”

“Last week.”

“And when did you tell Harrison?”

“Last week,” you shrugged, meeting his eye with a steely glare. You were beginning to get annoyed with all of his questions, because he hadn’t even told you what he was doing here. All he’d done so far was waltz in and throw questions at you left, right, and centre, like the entitled prick you’d never thought he was.

“Was he okay with it?” Tom touched his cheek, drawing your eyes to the brief contact, and you shook your head.

“Does it matter, Tom? If you’re so interested, ask him yourself.”

“I wanted to hear it from you.”

“I don’t know why,” you spread your arms wide “you’ve not exactly called since the last time we saw each other. I’m not someone you can just call when you need me and then dump me the next day. If you’re here to do that, then you can piss off now.”

“Of course I’m not here for that!” Tom’s mouth fell open and he sounded genuinely shocked at what you were saying.

“Then why are you here?” you threw your head back, exhausted already from this conversation and wanting nothing more than to run far away.

“I…don’t know,” Tom admitted, collapsing onto your bed. “After you disappeared the other night, I figured that was the end of us, that I’d really blown it that time. I wanted to call you, to set things straight, but you’d made it so clear in the past that you wanted nothing to do with me that I thought maybe it was for the best.”

“Well clearly you changed your mind,” you eyed him, but his words caught at your heart strings.

“I did. I honestly did. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/n. You’re in my dreams, in my thoughts, hell I can’t go a minute without something reminding me of you, and when Harrison told me about you leaving...” he gulped, leaving his sentence unfinished and glanced up, red rimming his eyes. You stepped towards him and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder, not sure what to say.

“You’re telling me all of this a bit late. And to be honest, after the way you’ve behaved, I’m not sure I believe you.”

“And you have every right not to,” Tom was suddnely on his feet, inches from your face. Your breathing hitched and he swallowed audibly, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “But know that I’m not here to trick you or mislead you, I’m here as one hundred percent myself, and I’m trying to fix the biggest mistake I ever made.”

The contact made you shiver, drawing you further into Tom’s arms. A thousand thoughts swirled in your head as you stared into the deep chocolate pools you’d once known every inch of. Everything about him was intoxicating, from the slippery velvet words that came from his lips to the deep, woody pine smell that made you want to bury your head into every jumper he owned. You were drowning in Tom, and just for a minute you forgot everything that had happened.

All that you remembered was the here and now, the silence stretching for miles between you as you were locked in his embrace. He was inching closer, and your heart was pounding faster, threatening to burst from your chest in an all-consuming, blinding explosion. You weren’t breathing, hardly moving, as he tilted your chin towards him and brought his hand to tangle in your hair. His fingers threaded through the knots with ease, the familiarity a surprise to you as your eyes fluttered closed at his touch. You were moments away from kissing him, and God you wanted to.

But wanting was not the same as needing.

You stepped back abruptly, watching hurt cross Tom’s face as swiftly as though you’d plunged a knife into his chest. You tried to say something, anything, but the words got caught in your throat, and instead you were breathing hard and gasping for air, the sudden loss of contact a shock. How did you explain to him how you felt? Now you were the one that had ripped away something good, something beautiful, and being on the other side of it felt awful.

But you knew, you were certain, that kissing Tom would only bring you more hurt than you’d already had, and you weren’t sure your heart could take anymore.

“I’m…I’m sorr…sorry,” you stuttered, feeling hot tears start sliding down your face.

Tom shook his head slowly and looked down at the floor. You weren’t certain, but you were almost positive you’d seen the glassy covering of tears just about to fall. “It’s alright.”

“I, um, I think you should go,” you mumbled, twiddling with your fingers. Your heart had broken so many times over this guy that you just wanted to let yourself be alone for once, to feel and suffer and wallow in the overwhelming sadness and heart break that followed you and Tom wherever you went. Perhaps this time, it would finally teach you a lesson.

He met your eyes with a desperate look, but this time he didn’t close the space between you. The anticipation hung in the air as you both waited for the other to make a move, and suddenly the overwhelming urge to run towards him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe took over your rational brain. You fought it down with a harsh wipe of your cheek, feeling the tackiness of the tears there drying on your palm.

At last, Tom nodded, and started towards the door, grabbing the jacket he’d tossed over the chair. “Y/n?” he glanced over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” you said at last, barely looking him in the eye.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

And then he was gone, disappearing from your room as quickly as he’d come without so much as a goodbye. As soon as the door had slammed shut, you felt your heart shatter, and you fell to the floor as your knees gave way, all the strength you’d held suddenly ebbing away.

Tears poured down your reddened face, your hands thrust into your hair as you sobbed into your knees. You curled them into your chest, desperately pulling yourself close in an attempt to shut out the encroaching world that had crushed your fragile body so many times over. It seemed unfair, almost cruel, that this was happening again – you were reliving that horrible night all over again, and you just wanted it to stop.

This was supposed to be a good day. A positive day. Where you’d moved on and were planning for an exciting future. Except now you’d been stripped right back to core, your emotions exposed and everything torn to shreds. Your heart was laying naked somewhere in Tom’s palms, your tears running through the cracks in his skin. Because as much as you hated to admit it, there was still a part of you that longed to chase after him, beg him to stay.

And it was the very part of you that had destroyed you.

***

Departure day came quicker than you’d expected, and you were still reeling from Tom. Harrison and Sarah came with you to say goodbye, their hugs lingering as you stood in the departure lounge.

“I’m gonna miss you!” Sarah sobbed, scraping at her cheeks as fresh tears rolled down them.

“Not as much as I’m gonna miss you,” you laughed. “But you can come visit any time you like.”

“That better be the same for me too, Miss Y/l/n,” Harrison smirked, pulling you into his arms.

“What? You’re the British one here, Harrison, you can make a day trip whenever you fancy!”

“Consider that done,” he winked, and you swatted him on the arm. You exchanged a look with him as the laughter died, both knowing he wouldn’t have been the only British boy with you today if things had gone differently.

“For what it’s worth, Y/n, I’m sure he would have come,” Harrison sighed, stroking your arm.

“Yeah, right,” Sarah scoffed “he didn’t call, didn’t text, just left her there on the floor after ripping her heart out again.”

“Tom’s an idiot, we all know that, but he’s decent when he’s not being stupid.”

“Unfortunately, he’s being stupid most of the time,” you muttered, glancing down at your phone one last time in the hopes he might have changed his mind. But the screen was still blank, just your regular old Spiderman background staring you in the face.

Suddenly, a voice came over the tannoy, and dread filled your stomach. “This is the last call for flight 217 to Paris, France. Please proceed to Gate 48.”

“Well, that’s me,” you gulped, turning to your friends with wide eyes. “Is it normal to be this scared?”

“Moving to another country all by yourself? Of course it is,” Harrison smiled warmly, and you trusted him the most. After all, he’d done it four years ago. “But you’ll be back for graduation next month. By then you’ll have forgotten all of the nerves and you’ll be a proper Parisian.”

You laughed and gathered your bags, giving them one final hug before starting towards the gate. “I love you guys!” You called over your shoulder.

“We love you too!”

You disappeared into passport control, fear filling your stomach. That was it, the last sighting of any familiar faces for a very long time, and it was of Harrison answering the phone. As you handed your passport over to the stern looking lady at the booth, you couldn’t help but wonder if what Harrison said was true, if being a Parisian really was that simple. It didn’t seem it, but if Tom could make a new life in a completely different country, then you sure as hell could to.

Tom. Oh God. You hadn’t wanted to think about him. Not now, when any thought of him previously had left you a crippling mess and unable to talk. Numbly, you took your passport back and wandered into the concourse, looking for directions to Gate 48. Anything to distract you from what might have been.

When you finally found your gate, your head was still full of thoughts of Tom and everything you should’ve said, and the lady checking your boarding pass had to ask you three times before you registered she was talking to you.

“Is everything okay, love?” she asked, stamping the ticket.

“Oh, yeah,” you shrugged “just a lot going on right now I guess.”

“Yeah, I’d say so. You only just got here in time, take off is in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, and she stuck her hand out as you tried to walk past.

“Guy trouble?” she narrowed her eyes and you jumped in shock.

“How did you-?”

“Oh please, I see enough young men and women walking through these gates every day looking a little lost. And Paris? Is there any please more obvious to go to for a broken heart?”

“I thought it was the city of love?” you raised an eyebrow, and the woman laughed.

“Of course darling, that’s why it’s perfect for heartbreak.”

Her words rattled around in your skull, ‘darling’ working its way through the layers of iron around your heart and embedding itself into the tissue. That was what he had called you. You hadn’t thought about the word in days, and here this woman was, so casually saying it, as if you hadn’t had your heart torn in two by the very man who practically invented the word.

Images of Tom swam before your eyes, the brown curls and dimpled smile nestling into your mind. You felt tears prick in your eyes as the memory of his voice swirled through his ears, so realistic you could’ve sworn he was right next to you.

“Wait!”

It was so random, it was like he was there. You could hear him yelling, a cruel trick your mind was determined to play, and yet it was so real.

“Y/n, please, wait!”

He sounded out of breath, but at the sound of your name you spun around in surprise, dropping your rucksack in shock as Tom came sprinting through the crowd. He was wearing his usual black t-shirt and jeans, but he was clutching a small strip of paper and racing towards you.

“Y/n!”

“Is that you?” the woman who’d stamped your ticket asked with a knowing smile.

“Tom?” your mouth fell open “what are you doing here?”

He skidded to a stop, the eyes of hundreds of passengers trained on him as he bent double and gasped for breath. “I…couldn’t…let…you…leave…without saying…goodbye.”

“What?” you balked, not sure what to say. Your flight was leaving in less than ten minutes – of course Tom would cock this up for you.

“Y/n, please, please don’t go,” he gripped your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. At first, you resisted, but at the sight of his pleading eyes and desperate voice, you collapsed against you, and his chin fell on your head. “Oh God, I thought I’d missed you.”

“How’d you even get in here?” you asked.

“Bought a ticket.”

“You did what?”

“Apparently I’m on the second flight out to Canada now,” he grinned, stepping away from you.

“You did all that to ask me to stay?” your mouth moved before you could think, but Tom was nodding vigorously, still panting.

“I got the wrong airport at first, then I rang Haz and he told me you’d just gone into passport control. I figured I had enough time to make it, but then I got here and your flight wasn’t on the departures board.” So that was the phone call Haz had taken as you’d left.

“You know, asking me to stay isn’t possible, Tom,” you sighed as reality hit you like a truck “I’ve got a job to do, and I want this so badly. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Asking me to give all that up for you when you broke my heart is…a lot.”

“I know, I know. Okay, look, don’t stay then. But let me follow you.”

“Tom…” you started, shaking your head “this is all so complicated.”

“Well let me make it less complicated for you then,” he said, and suddenly you were kissing, and stars were exploding behind your closed eyes. His lips moved with yours, sending sparks of electricity racing through your veins. Your skin crawled as a thousand fires spread across your body, heat warming your chilled bones. It was everything you needed and didn’t want at the same time, but it felt right, it felt good, and suddenly you knew you should have kissed him the day he’d come to your dorm.

When you broke apart, the lady at the desk was clearing her throat as the final warning bell sounded. “Miss Y/l/n, are you boarding this plane or not?”

You glanced between her and Tom, the prospect of the future or the enticement of the past. You knew what would win out, you were too sensible to give into a guy who’d just run through an airport for you – but there was no reason you couldn’t have both.

“I am,” you nodded, picking up your rucksack and smiling at Tom, whose eyes had widened slightly. “There’s another flight out in two hours. Change your ticket and come with me.”

“Will you meet me there?” he called out as you started walking backwards.

“I’ll be waiting,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. Suddenly, everything felt right again. Maybe Tom would break your heart again, maybe he wouldn’t. But the prospect of forever didn’t mean much right now, you were too busy living your life. All that could come – for now, you just had to focus on your future and taking one step at a time. If Tom was really that serious about you, he’d show it soon enough.

And if he didn’t? Well then, you’d be okay with that too. Because something told you, as you walked away, that whatever was to come would be brilliant.

And you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

Taglist

@zabdisamor @jinxfanfics @jillanaholland

[msjr0119]

One Temptation

Part 10

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?

Tags-if you want to be removed from the list, let me know 😊: @pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @drxkewalker @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @kozabaji @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @dcbbw @qammh-blog @jared2612 @princess-geek @desireepow-1986 @indiacater

A/N: This part is smaller than most, the next part will be posted once I’ve finished work or tomorrow.

Warnings: Swearing, abuse.

*****

I miss you. X

Hey, are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in a few days. X

Ri, I love you. Please text back. I just want to know that you are okay. X

Can I come and see you? X

Riley sighed as she re read all the messages that she had received from, messages that she hadn’t responded to as if they didn’t exist. It had been a few weeks since she had seen him in the hotel room. Waking up the following morning, she snuck out of the room. Regretting letting her feelings get the best of her- she knew it was best to just leave without saying a word. Maybe in time, they could gradually speak- when she was sober.

“I’m going to have to get you a bucket, are you coming down with something?” Gill asked as she walked over to Riley, noticing that she was pale, as she sipped the water behind the bar and was immediately sick.

“I don’t know? It must be that seafood that we ate last night. I’ve had an upset stomach since this morning...”

“Just stay behind the bar tonight, I’ll get you a bucket in case you can’t make it to the toilet. If you need time off, just go home.”

Staying behind the bar, she was hoping that this shift would go quickly. The usual punters attempted flirting with as they always did- as much as she tried, she tried to flirt back. But the smell of alcohol was making her feel instantly ill. Bending down, she discreetly puked up in the bucket on the floor.

“Hello, can I have a scotch please.”

“I’ll be one minute...” Wiping her mouth, she placed some gum in her mouth as she slowly stood up.

“Bertrand?”

“Hello, stranger.” Wiping his finger along the bar, he looked disgusted viewing all the dust and the sticky residue stuck on his finger like super glue. He was shocked to see her behind the bar, when she first arrived back in New York City- he was horrified when Maxwell blurted out that she was a stripper.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a free country.. I’m just checking that you are okay. You don’t look okay- you look as white as a sheet. You haven’t spoken to anyone - we were all concerned about you.”

“I’m fine, shouldn’t you be with Savannah? Congratulations by the way, how is the little bundle of joy?” Providing him with the drink, she explained that it was on the house to congratulate him on becoming a father- as well as ‘wetting the baby’s head’. She knew that this day was coming, but it still hurt knowing the day that their baby arrived could have been the day that she was holding her own bundle of joy.

“He’s amazing. We are having a get together tomorrow night, you should come and meet Bartie.”

“I might do, it depends if I can get time off work or not.” He’s going to be there. Covering her mouth, that all familiar taste made its way back in to her mouth.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No, don’t be fucking stupid...” fuck. I could be. Horror was soon written all over her face, of course Bertrand would assume this- Savannah was pregnant and had morning sickness, so he was now an expert knowing the symptoms.

“I ate seafood last night, I don’t think it’s agreed with my stomach...”

“Or maybe that little rendezvous you had in Times Square has had some consequences...” Perking his eyebrows up, he knew she was in denial- if she was indeed pregnant, he knew that she wouldn’t be alone- she would have support from everyone.

“How do you know about that?” Shaking his head, everyone knew. Due to the man explaining what had happened and him being concerned as she ran off and had ignored him ever since.

“He’s worried about you, he asked if anyone had spoken to you. What is it with you and hotel rooms?” He laughed attempting to make the situation a joke rather than it being a serious matter.

“You know me B. Whenever Liam had conferences with his father, I’d stay in the hotel room with him. Leo, in Florida- when he found me. Maxwell when we all got drunk in Vegas. And Drake, the hotel before we arrived at the ranch the following day..”

“Well we are meeting tomorrow at the Hilton, midtown. Who’s next on your hotel fuck list? You could use tomorrow as an opportunity.” See her frown at him, he laughed. “I’m joking! Thank you for the drink, Ri. I hope you can attend.”

*****

The sickness had deteriorated the day after, feeling relieved she was sure it was due to the food. Getting ready to go to hotel, she was a bag of nerves. Deep down she didn’t want to go- however as Bertrand said they were practically family years ago.

Arriving at the Hilton, she was greeting by a waiter who gave her a champagne flute. Gulping it in one, it would give her dutch courage that she most likely would need to survive the whole event. Scrutinising the room, she saw everyone- as well as Drake’s family. Fuck, I forgot about them. Just breathe, Riley. Bertrand noticed her stood vacant at the threshold. Carrying Bartie over towards her, she placed a fake smile onto her face.

“Bartie, this is Auntie Riley...” Riley placed her finger into the newborns open hand- his tiny fingers wrapped around her immediately with a tight grip.

“Hey, gorgeous... aw Bertrand he’s adorable.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Riley nodded, holding the newborn- she was in love immediately. Bartie began to panic, possibly sensing that his mother and father wasn’t present and that he was in a strangers arms. Natural instinct made her coo at Bartie, before singing him a lullaby. Whilst singing- she placed the baby's head in the crook of one arm and wrapped the other arm around him- she was scared of dropping or breaking him.

“You’re a natural...are you still up for those babysitting duties?” He said with an encouraging tone of voice. Looking up at him, she smiled softly.

“Of course I’ll babysit him. No B, I’m not a natural- I’m a woman. He probably just thinks that my breasts are Savannah’s. Although if you carry on drinking beer, you could grow some man boobs...”

“I’d usually be offended with your sarcasm, but it’s good to see you smile.”

“He’s so gorgeous isn’t he? Hello, Riley.” Shifting her gaze from Bartie, she looked up at the woman. The woman who could win so many oscars with her fake attitude.

“Hello, Mrs Walker. Erm - Bertrand, I think he’s hungry- he’s getting far too close to my breasts..” Bertrand bend down to collect his son, he knew that this was probably just an excuse to remove herself from Bianca’s presence.

“Can you stop following me please...”

“I just want to say sorry for everything I did to you in Texas. Bertrand has explained about your true personality and you sound like a really nice person. I feel awful for the way we treat you...”

“I loved your son, I just wanted to make a good impression. At the time, I’d actually given up work. Who told you that I was a prostitute? That question has been lingering in my mind this whole time...”

“Liam Rhys...” Of course, it was him. That slimy bastard. “Did he give you that money?”

“No, it was from Kiara’s father.” Sighing, she really didn’t want that name to be mentioned, it was just a reminder of more heartache that she had received.

“Thank you. See you around.”

“Riley, wait!” Rolling her eyes back, she couldn’t be bothered with anymore of Bianca’s games. Not quite believing her new sincere attitude, she wanted to keep a distance- a long distance away from the woman.

“I’m so sorry about the baby...” holding her tears back, she began to struggle concealing the emotions. “You are a natural as Bertrand said, I do apologise again.”

“I’d have had our baby by now, imagine if I did. You hated me before you even got to know me. What would you have been like with your grandchild? Ignored it because you had a vendetta against its mother? Please, don’t try and talk to me again Mrs Walker...”

****

Seeing him smirking and laughing with people, the tears that she held back were now non existent. Instead anger built up throughout her body. Just the sight of him made her feel physically sick, him acting as if he had done nothing wrong. Storming through the crowd towards him, his eyes widened seeing her face like thunder.

“Liam! A word now!”

“Riley, it’s nice to see you...” swinging her fist back- this had become her new hobby especially with Liam. The scotch that he was holding was soon all over the floor- as the glass shattered the room went mute.

“How could you do that to me?” The tears that she had held in soon resurfaced and fell down her face, as her chin began to tremble she was unable to prevent all of the emotions bursting out.

“Do what?” Coming closer towards her, he wiped the wetness that was smudging her make up- not that she cared in the slightest.

“I dropped the charges, you avoided punishments because of my stupid goddamn heart. I went for lunch with you. I thought we had closure. Then I find out that you was the reason behind the Walkers hating me!”

“You went for lunch with him?” Leo walked over with Maxwell and Drake, concerned overhearing the shouting. “What have you done now?”

“He told Drake’s family that I was a fucking goddamn prostitute..”

“Ri, that was before I saw you in Starbucks and we went for lunch. I felt awful for doing that, but he is engaged anyway... we put all that behind us. We had closure...” Smirking at Drake, Riley was too emotional to realise this- Liam knew it would get under his skin that he went for lunch with her. Hoping that this little ‘confession’ would fill Drake with jealousy and rage.

“I am not fucking engaged!”

“Does it fucking matter who’s engaged or not? Does it matter what I fucking do for a living? Why can’t you all just let me live my life? I was thinking about your daughter in all of this Liam, and all you do is fucking screw me over.. continue to fucking break my heart...”

“I’m sorry. I am grateful for you thinking about Alice. Have you made a decision about the offer that I offered you all those weeks ago in Times Square?”

“Go to hell, Liam.”

*****

Maxwell followed Riley, out of all the friends he believed that he was the closest to her- the one who’s daft antics would make her smile instantly.

“Are you okay?” Knowing this was an idiotic question to ask, he didn’t know why he asked her- grabbing the ice out of his cocktail, he rubbed it against swollen hand.

“Yeah.. my hands killing though...”

“You really should quit the bar work and become a professional boxer.” Max pretended to throw some punches towards her.

“Me the professional boxer and you the professional dancer. You totally showed off in front of all those dancers in Times Square.” Doing a re-enactment Of his dance moves from that night, she threw her back laughing.

“Of course I would, they were all amateurs... when Maxwell Beaumont is around no one has a chance... so what do you think about Bartie? Is he a Beaumont or a Walker?”

“Definitely a Walker looks wise, but that can change. Hopefully he takes after his uncle’s rather than his serious father.” Impersonating Bertrand, Maxwell nearly fell over laughing. Pulling her into a hug, he held her tightly- he had missed her.

“What are you laughing about?” Leo asked, as he is put his arms around Riley’s waist and kissed her on the cheek.

“Ask Riley to show you her impression of Bertrand... I’m going to steal a cuddle from my nephew- I need to win the best uncle award.”

“How are you? I’ve missed you.”

“I’m fine, I’ve missed you too. How are you?”

“I’m good. It’s good to see you. Even when you are acting like the hulk...”

“He deserves it... what is he even doing here?”

“He paid for the venue, as usual. But I had my little input...”

“The flower arrangements?”

“How did you guess?”

“Well when you bought me flowers, they were beautiful.”

“I should become a florist? A beautiful bouquet for a beautiful girl. You deserve it. Love ya Ri.”

“Charmer... love ya too.”

****

Leo had left her alone, walking towards the bar, she ordered a drink- staring vacantly into it, she wasn’t sure why she was even here still. Drowning her sorrows, she felt like she was back at the Crowne plaza- the drinks were disappearing far too quickly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about what Liam did, as well as my family...”

“Don’t be. Congratulations on becoming a uncle.” Ordering him a drink, their hands touched as they both went to pay the bar man- the warmth of the touch lingered around their bodies. Quickly creating a distance again, Drake was desperate to pull her into his arms- but decided against it, especially with the mood she was in.

“Thanks. He’s amazing. I can’t wait to teach him a few things. I saw you holding him before, you’re a natural.” That could have been us, you holding our baby.

“I’ve already been told.” That could have been us. You talking about teaching our son or daughter about things.

“Don’t be drinking me under the table again, you know how one drink turns into two then into three before you know it. You don’t want a stinking hangover.”

“You know I can handle my hangovers. You don’t need to worry about my head.”

“I worry about you. I care about you. I love you.” Opening her mouth, she wanted to talk to Drake- civilly, but didn’t know where to start.

“Come on you two, B and Savannah are about to make an announcement...” Maxwell dragged the two of them towards the mini stage. Riley could feel Drakes eyes on her more than the star of the show, his own nephew.

“Riley, before the speech begins I want a private word with you. Savannah will talk and talk - so quick, follow me.” Following Bertrand, He led her to the bathroom- shutting the door, she was confused by his actions- until realisation sunk in as he pulled the object out of his pocket.

“Here, I think you should take this.”

“I’m not pregnant B. It was the seafood.”

“You looked like shit last night. Please.” Taking the test, she knew it would shut him up. Not knowing why he was insisting that she took a test. Peeing on the stick, she hid it in her bag wrapped around some tissue. Re-entering the room, Savannah gestured for Bertrand to join her on stage.

“Sorry for arriving late, I apologise if I repeat anything that has already been said. I’d like to thank you all for coming here today, our friends and family- we appreciate all the support....” the alarm went off on Riley’s phone, panicking that she was disturbing the speech- her hand was shaking as she tried to cancel it. Bertrand looked at her, knowing what the alarm was. Riley swiftly removed herself from the crowd, turning her back- she looked at the result. Covering her mouth, she wished that she had kept her legs closed- turning around she couldn’t look at the father instead she just nodded towards Bertrand hoping that he would understand the gesture. Clearing his throat, he quickly finished off his disastrous speech, knowing that she needed his support especially due to him forcing it upon her.

“Anyway, thank you for all the gifts. Thank you. Thanks...” Running off stage he followed Riley who was lingering at the door- still in shock. Still not knowing how to handle the situation.

“Was I correct?”

“I need to go. I didn’t get Bartie a present I wasn’t sure what he needed. Here, just take this money and get whatever you need. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bertrand, I need your assistance. Savannah shouted attempting to gain his attention- realising that he wasn’t aware that everyone was overhearing his conversation with Riley through the microphone.

I’ll only be a second Savannah, darling.

“Riley!”

“What?”

“Tell me... I am always here for you... you are like my little sister.” Passing him the test, she didn’t care if he was touching something that had her urine smeared all over it.

“I’m pregnant. Happy?” Savannah’s eyes widened, as everyone else’s did as they all turned to face the people who were oblivious that their conversation wasn’t private and was in fact public.

“Darling... you left the microphone on. We heard everything...”

“Bertrand! You fucking dipshit....” still in shock with the result - possibly denial, she just wanted leave. This whole event had been a disaster from her point of view. As the father walked over to her, along with the others- she looked at each of the men. Fuck. This is not happening. He will want to keep the baby. Can I trust him?

“Is the baby mine? Is Alice having a sibling?”

[kate-sinclaire]

the baby announcement (maxwell x mc)

Author Note: An inspired scene that stems from my love of New Girl. I honestly couldn’t NOT write this. Anyhow. Here we go. This takes place after my last fiction. If you want to read that, it will be attached below:

hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you (maxwell x mc)

Book: The Royal Heir/The Royal Romance

Pairing: Maxwell x MC (Emily Beaumont)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Emily and Maxwell continue to try for an heir while the gang becomes over protective of their mom to be.

NOTE/WARNING: This piece contains potential triggers, such as pregnancy concerns and issues. Please take care in reading if this is a trigger for you.

Tags: @itsbrindleybinch

Word Count: 1432

Comment or message if you’d like to be tagged in future Maxwell fics/TRH/TRR fics.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios (minus, for the most part, Emily), I’m just borrowing them. Some events, however, may not be canonical, rather imaginative scenarios. I also do not own the image. Gif found here.

--

“Emily, please be careful,” Bertrand sighed, pulling out the chair as the young duchess sat at the dining table. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. Maxwell suppressed a scoff. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I apologize, being a father has made me...protective.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not pregnant yet. Coffee please?” she asked, looking up at Drake expectantly. He pursed his lips together and stared at her cautiously.

"How about some orange juice," he offered slowly. "Or um...water? You like water."

"Drake," she warned, her voice growing impatient.

"I made hot cocoa!" Hana sang from behind him, placing her famous marshmallow mountain topped hot chocolate in front of Emily as an all too innocent smile played on her lips.

Emily took a tentative sip, keeping her eyes set on her best friend. "That was convenient timing," she murmured, though she couldn't hide her blissful expression as her entire body warmed.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Hana replied casually, walking behind the kitchen counter. "I made Maxwell one, as well."

"God, you're the best," Maxwell grinned, eagerly taking hold of the matching campfire mug.

“You guys, I’m not pregnant yet. You don’t need to worry about me so much. I fought off deadly assassins.”

“With help,” Olivia chimed in with a smirk as she entered the room. “But never mind that. Emily, would you like to accompany me out of this godforsaken cabin? I promise that I’ll let you breathe all by yourself.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Emily joined her by the door and bit back a grin at the worried exchanges. “That sounds lovely, Olivia, thank you.”

“I don’t-” Drake started.

“I’m not so sure-” Liam murmured.

“I feel like-” Hanna winced.

“Enough!” Olivia exclaimed, slamming her palm on the table, sending echoes throughout the kitchen. The entire group startled. “Emily Beaumont is a strong, self-sufficient woman. She does not need to be coddled like an infant just because she is trying to have one.” Emily stared at her, stunned, and then looked back at the group with resolve.

“Thank you, Olivia. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go run errands with my best friend.”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far-”

“Bye gang!” Emily grinned, grabbing Olivia by the arm and closing the door behind them. Everyone exchanged concerned glances.

“Is it just me or is Olivia really scary when she’s protective?” Maxwell muttered after a moment of silence, taking another drink of his cocoa. Everyone collectively nodded.

--

After walking a bit, Emily stopped and let out a sigh. Olivia glanced at her curiously, stepping beside her. “Can I be honest about something?”

“As opposed to what you’ve been doing since I met you?” Olivia smirked. Emily rolled her eyes in response and Olivia sighed with a nod.

“I’m scared that I’m not going to get pregnant.”

“What?” Olivia asked, genuinely shocked. “Emily, you can’t be serious. You just started trying.”

“Well, it’s been a...a while. And everyone has been treating me like I should be pregnant by now. I notice everyone’s worried glances, especially other nobles’. Last time I saw the paparazzi, I got hounded about my fears regarding the pregnancy or...lack thereof. And honestly, I’m kinda freaking out a little bit.” Emily’s eyes started watering and she quickly wiped away any trace of her tears. “God, sorry, I didn’t think I was going to break down.”

“You just started trying, Emily. I don’t know if you remember this, but Liam asked you to produce an heir a month ago. Do you realize how sudden that is?”

“I guess...”

“And it takes some couples longer than others to conceive. It’s not abnormal for you to be experiencing this kind of thing.”

“But we try so much,” Emily sighed. “Like...so much.”

“Okay.”

“No, really. So much.”

“I get it.”

“I just feel like if it isn’t going to happen now, maybe it won’t ever.” 

“I don’t know what you’re going through, Emily, but I can promise you this: no matter what happens, you have...” she winced and swallowed hard. “Amazing, loving friends who will be there for you no matter what. Including me. And you have...Maxwell. Who I’m sure loves you very much.”

“He does,” Emily sighed, wiping her eyes again.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. Okay?” Olivia’s voice softened for the first time in...ever since Emily had known her. She sniffled and nodded, wrapping her arms around her neck. Olivia let out a startled sound before hesitantly returning the hug. “Now, let’s forget about babies for a bit.”

“Where are we going?”

“The only place I can go after comforting someone: shooting.”

--

Meanwhile, back in Valtoria...

Maxwell let out a sigh as he played with Pip and Pup absentmindedly in the sun room, his gaze roaming to the mountaintops ahead of them. It was weird being away from his wife at all, these days, and it felt...lonely, even though he was with his friends and two adorable, cuddly creatures. Drake nursed a whiskey over by the telescope and looked over at Liam who stood reading a novel at one of Emily’s bookshelves.

“This is boring,” Max finally said.

“Thanks,” Drake replied with a scoff.

“No, I mean. Who even were we before Emily came into our lives?”

“Bored,” Drake agreed.

“Incomplete,” Hanna nodded.

“Lost,” Liam added, something flickering over his expression. Something Maxwell chose to aptly ignore.

“Exactly. And now here we are without her and we’re nothing. She’s the glue that holds us all together.”

“I think that’s a little dramatic,” Drake replied. “But you’re right. It’s not the same without her. And it’s our fault. We scared her away with our worrying.”

“You guys did. For the record, I’ve been a rock through this.” Max smirked, prompting a collective eye roll. “But yeah. It sucks. Maybe we should call her and apologize.”

“We can’t, she left her phone,” Hanna pointed at the table.

“What?” Panic began to race through him. “What if she gets into trouble? What if I get into trouble? I’m always in trouble!”

“Maxwell, calm down,” Liam laughed. “She’s fine. She’s perfectly capable of handling herself. And she has Olivia with her, remember?”

“That almost makes it worse!”

“Maxwell, she’s fine-”

As if on cue, Emily’s phone rang. Maxwell cautiously approached it and shook his head. “I can’t answer.”

“I will,” Hanna smiled dutifully. “Hello?”

“Hello, Lady Beaumont? This is Doctor Ramirez. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“WHAT?!” Hanna squealed. “Oh my god!”

“Wait, who is this?”

“WHO IS IT?” Maxwell practically screamed.

“This is Hanna Lee. Sorry, can you pretty please call back so I can let Maxwell answer?”

“Why isn’t Emily answering her phone?” the doctor asked, confused. Then she sighed. “Okay, I’ll call back. Wait, why can’t I just talk to him now?”

Hanna hung up and grinned, handing the phone back to Maxwell. “I think you’ll want to answer whoever calls next.” He squirmed under her constant smile.

“Okay...”

Sure enough, the phone rang again and he winced. “Hello?”

“Maxwell Beaumont?”

“The very same.”

“This is Doctor Ramirez. I called to tell you congratulations! Your wife is pregnant.”

“EMILY IS PREGNANT?!”

--

After a long day of archery and blade throwing, Emily followed Olivia back to Valtoria with a renewed sense of self. “That was exactly what I needed, thank you.”

“Violence is what everyone needs,” Olivia nodded, knowingly. Emily laughed and jogged ahead. “Wow, you’re happy.”

“I am! We never get to hang out.”

“Yeah, it’s almost as if someone crafts that perfectly...”

“You know, you talk a big game but I think you like hanging out with me.”

“Think what you like, Emily,” but a smile played at Olivia’s lips.

When they both got back, Emily walked in with a grin. “Honey, I’m hoooome.” Silence. Olivia and her exchanged a look and then she called again. “Maxwell, I’m hooooooome.” Still nothing. She glanced down and noticed rose petals trailing from the kitchen to the bedroom. Confused, she followed and her eyes widened at the sight of Maxwell with three bouquets in hand along with about a dozen others scattered throughout the room.

“Max..?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What...?” she looked around and then he shook his head with a grin.

“We’re pregnant. You’re pregnant.”

Realization dawned on her as she stepped back. “We’re...pregnant...”

“We’re pregnant!” he pulled her into his arms and spun her around. Emily laughed as the tears came down her face. “Doctor Ramirez called and Hanna picked up. Then she called again and I picked up.”

“Oh my god, we’re pregnant.”

“We’re pregnant.”

[the-real-anywolf]

Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: Game Night

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Christmas Fluff, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Post-Episode: s15e08 Our Father Who Aren't in Heaven, Board Games, Card Games, so many games, Dean Just Wants To Win At Something

Summary: Dean decides that they’re going to have a game night in the bunker, and he’s determined that he’s going to beat Sam at least once. Thanks to Cas, things really don’t turn out as planned.

Written by: @punk-is-notdead​ (tfw_cas)

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21872311#main

Day 21: Game Night

Dean’s dislike of Christmas had been severely tested in the space of one day spent eating, drinking and making merry with his family; for the first time since he was four, Dean could say that he’d had an awesome holiday.

In the buildup to Christmas, Dean had enjoyed decorating the bunker and buying gifts for his loved ones, and on Christmas Day, he and Eileen had cooked up a feast. There were lots of veggies for Sam, and even Cas had eaten some of the food for once. Watching Sam and Eileen was like watching one of those chick flicks that Dean knew nothing about, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Good for them.

He and Cas were back on an even keel with their friendship, and that was also something to celebrate. It turned out that Rowena gave really good advice, and a sincere heartfelt apology worked wonders with starting the healing process.

It was remarkable how quickly they had fallen back into their familiar friendship, and Dean had taken great pains to find a meaningful gift for Cas. Then, seeing the angel’s delighted reaction as he unwrapped a coffee mug that bore the legend ‘always bee yourself’ gave Dean a curious case of butterflies in his stomach.

He hadn’t expected to receive a gift back from Cas, so when he unwrapped a snow globe of the Chrysler building, the butterflies only got worse. It was kind of cheesy, and yet sweet too, and Dean loved it.

After all the gifts had been exchanged, they’d spent the rest of the evening watching Christmas movies and arguing about which one was the best. Sam was adamant it was The Apartment, Eileen was equally as insistent about it being Die Hard, and Cas had no opinion on the matter, but Dean was sure it would be It’s A Wonderful Life, if he’d ever actually seen it (note to self: show Cas It’s A Wonderful Life). However, they were all wrong, because Dean knew that the best Christmas movie was Home Alone… no contest.

Anyway, the discussion had been good natured and full of laughter, and Dean had gone to bed full of cheer, and pie. Now, standing in the kitchen making coffee the morning after, Dean wondered what they would do with their day. There was nothing on the agenda, no plans at all, and then it hit him. They would have a game night, except it would start in the morning.

It had been too long since he and Sam had played any board games, and they never did play that game of Mouse Trap he set up before… Jack and mom. Deciding to put that particular upsetting thought out of his mind, he ate a quick bowl of cereal, before going to his Dean cave, finding the box containing Monopoly, and bringing it to the library.

Laying out the board and pieces didn’t take long, and armed with his mug of coffee, Dean soon had it all ready. He just needed everyone else to wake up now… not that Cas slept, but he wasn’t here right now so…

Where was Cas, anyway?

Almost as if he’d heard the question, Cas appeared in the doorway, coffee mug in hand.

“Hello, Dean,” he said joining him at the table. “What’s this?”

“Monopoly. We’re gonna have a game night.”

Cas looked a little disappointed as he asked, “We must wait until tonight?”

“No, it’s just a saying. We’re waiting for Sammy and Eileen, and then we’ll play. But game morning sounds weird.”

“I see,” Cas replied, not appearing to ‘see’ at all. “Will you explain how this works while we wait?”

“Sure,” said Dean, before explaining the game in minute detail.

He was about to ask if Cas wanted to play a practice game just the two of them, when Sam and Eileen finally dragged their asses out of bed and joined them in the library.

Dean wanted to make some kind of comment about their disheveled appearance, but… they were too adorable. Plus, he was really happy for Sam. He was still going to wipe the floor with him, though.

"We're playing Monopoly," Dean explained.

"Good for you. Have fun," Sam said, taking Eileen's hand and starting to walk away.

"No… we're playing," Dean said, gesturing to each of them in turn. "Sit your asses down."

Sam sighed, as he let go of Eileen's hand and signed something to her. She signed back, and Sam smiled, before they sat down, and he said, "Okay, one game."

"Oh no, Sammy. This is just the first one." Dean shook his head.

Sam looked like he was about to protest, but thankfully Eileen came to the rescue.

"Come on, Sam. I think spending the day playing games is a great idea."

“Good thing we already ate breakfast,” Sam grumbled half-heartedly.

Dean passed the dice to Cas to get the game started, and after they had all rolled once, it was determined that Eileen would go first. Once the game got going properly, Dean focused all his attention on beating Sam. In the past, whenever they’d played games Sam had always won, and Dean was determined that this time he would be the winner.

Unfortunately, Dean got knocked out of the game first - despite owning all the stations, and having hotels on Boardwalk - followed soon afterwards by Eileen. He didn’t want to be there when Sam won, so the two of them went off to the kitchen to make sandwiches and more coffee. They returned just in time to see Sam throwing up his hands in defeat and a surprised-looking Cas taking the winner’s crown.

Dean clapped his friend on the shoulder in a congratulatory way, and made a face at Sam. “Nice one, buddy. That’s some beginner's luck you’ve got there.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said with a bemused smile. “What are we going to play next?”

“Clue.” Dean went back to the Dean cave to pick up as many of the games he had stashed there as he could carry, and dumped them on the library table.

Sam’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything; he took a bite out of the sandwich Eileen had prepared for him, and hummed appreciatively.

Dean set up the Clue board, explaining the rules as he did so. This game would last a lot less time than the two and a half hours their game of Monopoly had taken, but he was confident he could beat Sam this time.

Dean hadn’t been wrong about it lasting less time; within twenty minutes it was all over, and Cas came out as the winner, after correctly accusing Professor Plum, in the study, with the knife.

“Well done, Cas,” Dean said. “You’re on a winning streak.” It wouldn’t last forever, though.

The next game they played was Life, which was pretty ironic really when Dean thought about it. For all of them, their lives had been about as far from ordinary as you could get, and yet here they were going around a board to get married, have children, go to college and get a job.

It proved to be a lot of fun anyway, and surely this time Dean would beat Sam. Except, wouldn’t you know it, Cas won… again.

“Congratulations, Cas. You’re officially the best at life,” Dean said, realising how odd that probably sounded to an angel.

Cas smiled somewhat sheepishly, as if he felt guilty for constantly winning, but there was no way he would win Cards Against Humanity. Absolutely not.

Except of course, he did, with a two card answer, which when read with the question said:

And the academy award for ‘pretending to care’ goes to ‘god’.

Ouch.

By now it was six in the evening, and they stopped temporarily, to grab some dinner. An hour or so later, armed with full bellies, a shitload of beers, and determination - on Dean’s part anyway - game night resumed once more.

He should have known that playing Trivial Pursuit against an angel who was millions of years old was a bad idea. Of course Cas won, and Dean had to stop himself from complaining.

Godammit.

“Poker,” Dean said, failing to congratulate Cas on his win this time.

“Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night, Dean?” Sam asked, clearly not as bothered by the fact that Cas had won every damn game as Dean was.

“Nah, it’s still early,” Dean said shuffling the deck of cards. “Texas hold 'em, okay?”

Of course it turned out that Cas didn’t know the rules of this game either, so Dean went through them as quickly as possible, hoping that Cas wouldn’t quite get it, and that this time he would finally beat Sam. But… of course Cas won that too.

Sonovabitch!

“Seriously?” he exclaimed, and Cas looked a little upset by Dean’s sudden outburst.

“Sorry,” he said, backtracking. “It’s just… you sure you haven’t played this before? Are you hustling us?”

“Dude,” Sam scolded him. “What ever happened to congratulations, or well done?”

“Well done, Cas,” Dean said, trying not to sound grumpy. “ Tic-tac-toe?”

He saw Sam drop his forehead to the table, as Cas gave him an inquiring look. “I’ll show you,” he said, disappearing momentarily to find a piece of paper and a couple of pencils. When he returned, they were all staring at him intently. It was kind of disconcerting, but he ignored them and drew the grid on the paper, before handing Cas a pencil and explaining, “we fill it with xs and os. Whoever makes a line first wins.”

Dean wasn’t going to even get the opportunity to win against Sam this time, but surely he could beat Cas?

Nope.

Dean felt foolish for thinking it might even be a possibility. He looked over at Cas, who was peering down at the paper - probably wondering how he’d won yet again - and in a moment of desperation, asked, “Best two out of three? Arm wrestling?”

Sam slapped his hands on the table and stood up. “You’re being ridiculous,” he said to Dean, taking Eileen’s hand as she also got to her feet. “This has been great. Congratulations, Cas. G’night, you guys.”

“Goodnight,” Eileen said, smiling at them as she and Sam left.

“Sorry, man, I’m an ass.” Dean apologised, opening a bottle of beer and taking a sip.

“Why is winning so important to you?” Cas asked, picking at the label on his bottle.

Interesting question. Dean thought for a moment before replying. “When we were kids, I always let Sammy win. Then he became smarter than me and he started beating me on his own, and I just wanted to win for once. I didn’t think I’d lose every time to a sneaky angel.” He grinned at Cas to let him know there were no hard feelings.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I had no idea.” Cas said, seemingly full of regret.

“I don’t want you to feel bad. I just…” Dean didn’t finish his sentence, because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.

“Then what do you want?” Cas had stopped fiddling with his beer bottle, and was staring at Dean now; looking into his eyes so intensely that Dean felt an involuntary twitch in his cock.

Ohhh. This was suddenly a different game they were playing… a very dangerous one. Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he returned the stare, and put his bottle down on the table before he dropped it.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, his voice thick, and lower than usual. “What’ve you got?” He winked playfully, as if he wasn’t actually engaging in some heavy duty flirting with his best friend.

“Whatever you want.” Cas glanced down at the table top, and ran his fingers lightly over the surface, then looked back up and caught Dean’s gaze again.

Oh, fuck. Was this really happening? Was Cas really offering whatever Dean wanted? They were sitting on opposite sides of the table, so he couldn’t quite do what he wanted, which was to grab Cas by the tie and yank him forward into a kiss. One of them was going to have to move, and Dean wasn’t sure he was physically able to right now. There was something else he wanted, though.

“Take your coat off,” he said, licking his bottom lip in anticipation.

Without a word Cas stood up and, never breaking eye contact with Dean, removed the garment and placed it on the chair next to him.

Holy shit. Dean thought his heart might have stopped. He’d only taken off his coat, and yet Cas might as well be naked right now. Dean could see the lines of his muscles moving beneath the suit jacket as Cas held out his arms to demonstrate that he’d done what Dean had asked.

Enough of the games, Dean decided, getting to his feet and walking around the table to stand next to Cas.

“Is there anything else you want?” Cas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything?” Dean wanted clarification before he did something he couldn’t take back.

Cas nodded, and Dean stepped forward, took the tie in his hand and pulled Cas forward until their lips were brushing.

“This,” he murmured, before their mouths collided in a breathtaking, knee-weakening kiss.

As they wound their arms around each other, and their hands tangled in each other’s hair, Dean had a feeling that he had finally won something, and it was pretty significant.

He was a Win-chester, after all.

[ourlady-ofsorrows]

A Shot Across The Bow

(gif credit to the creators)

Part 1 - Blank Space

Masterlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC Word Count: 1,848 Warnings: language, cigarette smoking A/N: First part to what could possibly be the best AU I’ve ever written. I’m so stoked for this story you guys have no idea. Title/song in this part is Blank Space by Taylor Swift. If you want to be tagged, let me know. Also, feedback is cool :)

Caroline’s POV

It was so unbelievably hot in my room and the fan blowing on me as I sat on my bed wasn’t helping one bit. I still couldn’t fathom why in the middle of June my parents hadn’t brought out the air conditioners yet. I tried not to worry about it as I strummed my acoustic guitar with a notebook open on my lap. I had been trying – and failing – to write a new song for the better part of three hours and not much was coming to me. I had a show that night and I wanted to perform some new material, not like it mattered. No one really came to the small bar gigs that I was doing, but hey, you’ve gotta start somewhere.

I put my guitar down, sighing as I did so. I ran my fingers through my long brown hair before throwing it into a bun on the top of my head. I decided to attempt to find something to wear in hopes that inspiration would strike. I had graduated from high school a few weeks ago and I was hoping that so much free time would be helpful for my song writing. I was very wrong. I hadn’t written a new song in months and it was beginning to stress me out. All of my friends were preparing for college and I was sitting here not getting anything done that I was planning to. I had the strong feeling that basically all of my friends leaving were what was causing my block, but I couldn’t be too sure.

I glanced at the clock and realized that I had less than an hour to get ready and be at the bar for an early sound check. I guess song writing was just going to have to wait for today. I threw on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and called it a day. I knew I didn’t really need to fit an image when it came to these bar shows. I fixed my makeup and put my guitar in its case before heading down stairs to leave for the bar. As I was walking down the stairs I saw my brother, Rick, walk in the front door. He looked exhausted and was obviously just getting home from his late night shift. He nodded in my direction and I flashed him a small smile before running out to my car.

I opened the door to my beat up pickup truck after putting my guitar in the bed and climbed into the cab. The truck was sweltering hot and I rolled the window down before starting it up. I let the car run for a minute while I fiddled with the radio and finally put it in drive before heading over to the bar. I glanced at the clock when I pulled in and noticed I had five minutes to spare before I had to be inside. I walked into the small, dimly lit, bar and went to find the manager to check in. I went through my sound check and had about an hour or so before I had to play.

I walked back outside and climbed into the bed of my truck and sitting on the edge, lit a cigarette. The sun was just starting to set and I had a pretty good feeling about tonight. Rick said he was going to come watch me play and so did my best friend, Michonne. Just knowing that they would be in the crowd eased the mounting tension growing inside me. As I sat there smoking I was watching the people entering the bar. I was always curious about who was watching me play. I was scanning the crowd and it just seemed like the normal Thursday night bar crowd. I flicked my cigarette over the edge of my truck and lit another one. I always chain smoked before shows to help calm my nerves. It was just as I was lighting it that I saw him. He was climbing off of a motorcycle in the parking spot directly across from where I was sitting. He pushed his black sunglasses onto the top of his head and he glanced in my direction. He walked past my truck and smirked at me and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I took another drag of my cigarette to give myself something to do as I tried to figure out where I had seen him before.

If I spent any more time sitting in the back of my truck I would have missed my time slot. I threw my cigarette out and hopped down off the back of my truck before heading inside. I sat down at the bar and ordered myself a club soda with lemon and watched the band playing finish up their set. As I sipped on my drink I tried to mentally prepare a set list. Once I finished my drink I left some money on the bar and went to grab my guitar from the back room and made my way out to the stage. I stood up in front of the bar and scanned the crowd. I spotted Rick in the back by the bar with his best friend, Shane, his girlfriend, Lori. I cleared my throat and tuned my guitar and as I greeted the crowd I noticed Michonne sitting at a table off to the side. She smiled at me and I smiled back. I started playing and felt as though nothing else really mattered.

Nice to meet you, where you been? I could show you incredible things Magic, madness, heaven, sin Saw you there and I thought Oh my God, look at that face You look like my next mistake Love’s a game, wanna play?

I scanned the crowd again as I played and noticed the guy I saw outside playing a game of pool with a group of people. New money, suit and tie I can read you like a magazine Ain’t it funny, rumors fly And I know you heard about me So hey, let’s be friends I’m dying to see how this one ends Grab your passport and my hand I can make the bad guys good for a weekend

He glanced up at me and I locked eyes with him. I could tell that he was only mildly interested in my singing and turned back to continue the game of pool.

So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane ‘Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I couldn’t stop looking at him and had to force myself to glance around to the rest of the crowd. 'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

My eyes kept finding their way back to him though and I wasn’t even sure why. Cherry lips, crystal skies I could show you incredible things Stolen kisses, pretty lies You’re the King, baby, I’m your Queen Find out what you want Be that girl for a month Wait, the worst is yet to come, oh no

I looked back over toward him and he glanced up at me again but this time he smirked at me. I could feel my heart rate quicken and I couldn’t even begin to fathom why this random stranger was having this affect on me.

Screaming, crying, perfect storms I can make all the tables turn Rose garden filled with thorns Keep you second guessing like “Oh my God, who is she?” I get drunk on jealousy But you’ll come back each time you leave 'Cause, darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream

I had to once again force myself to look away from him and look in the general direction of anything else. I chose the spot at the bar where Rick was sitting. So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane 'Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I could feel his eyes burning into me and I chanced a look at him.

'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

As I glanced over at him he looked down at his drink. Boys only want love if it’s torture Don’t say I didn’t say, I didn’t warn ya Boys only want love if it’s torture Don’t say I didn’t say, I didn’t warn ya

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and he started walking away from the pool table. So it’s gonna be forever Or it’s gonna go down in flames You can tell me when it’s over If the high was worth the pain Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane 'Cause you know I love the players And you love the game

I followed him as he moved through the bar and ordered another drink. 'Cause we’re young and we’re reckless We’ll take this way too far It’ll leave you breathless Or with a nasty scar Got a long list of ex-lovers They’ll tell you I’m insane But I’ve got a blank space, baby And I’ll write your name

I finished my song and looked down to make sure the tuning of my guitar was correct and kept my mouth shut because I didn’t trust what could possibly come out of my mouth if I decided to speak. I played through the rest of my set and made my way off the stage and out to my truck. I placed my guitar into the bed of the truck and lit a cigarette. I leaned against my truck and tried to calm my nerves. It was starting to bother me that this random stranger was having this effect on me. I wasn’t even entirely sure what was attracting me to him so much, but sure enough as I was putting out my cigarette and going to light another one I saw him walk out of the bar with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He lit it and then looked over in my direction. Before I could even think to say anything to him Michonne and Rick came out of the bar to, no doubt, congratulate me. Hopefully this was the signal to the end of the confusion of this night.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 42

Chapter Summary -  With Tom in Sudan and Danielle in Wales, they are tested for the first time on the ability to be apart from one another for a notable amount of time, can they hack it, and what are they planning for their little reunion?

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“You got it!” Tom was forced to hold the phone away from his ear as Danielle shrieked excitedly down it at him.

“I have not gotten anything yet, technically speaking.” Tom pointed out.

“But you were brilliant, and half of the nominations, I haven’t heard of the shows, much less the actors.”

“Elle, that’s mean.” Tom scolded.

“But I haven’t.”

“Well, you’re not renowned for your love of watching telly.” He pointed out.

“Guilty,” she admitted nonchalantly, causing Tom to chuckle. “Who else has congratulated you?”

“So far, I have had texts from Luke, Ben, the cast, obviously, Kenneth Brannagh, a few of my previous work colleagues, couple of the guys from school and college, cousins, my aunt, Sarah, and of course, mum called, but I only got a message because I was charging my phone, I will ring her back in a while.”

“And Emma?” Danielle asked, noting that he had not mentioned the youngest of the Hiddleston siblings.

“She hasn’t sent anything yet, but mum said that her schedule is hectic at the moment and that Jack was saying she does not get home from the show until three or four most mornings, so I think she is still asleep now, it’s lunch time here, but I think you are still midmorning.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s fair enough.”

Tom had been about to ask Elle something when he noticed the disheartened tone to her voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“She’s not talking to me.” Danielle almost sounded like a child, her voice was so small.

“Emma?”

“She’s barely responding to anything I text her, she only responds with one-word answers.”

“She will get over it with time, as you said already; it’s just a little weird for her. Though it’s not fair for her to guilt you like this.”

“It’s also not fair to go after a friend’s brother.” Danielle countered.

“What, are you saying you broke some ‘girl code’?”

“I don’t think there is something officially written out, but yes, I have done something worthy of being told to go fuck myself in many people’s books.”

Tom felt crestfallen. “Do you regret us?”

“I know it sounds bad, but no, I don’t. Emma is one of my closest friends, I have never really been as close with anyone like I have her, I love her, I would do anything, legal or otherwise for her, but I love you, and I like being with you.”

“These are different sorts of love you have for us both, I assume?”

Danielle laughed, “Obviously.”

“It will be resolved soon enough, darling. She cannot stay too mad at people for too long, it is not her way. Do you want me to say something?”

“No, if she needs to be mad for a bit, then let her be, I rather not talk to her until she is ready to. She could say something in anger that could make a big difference to everything and I don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard of you not confronting something head on before,” Tom noted.

“Because normally, I don’t feel like I could lose my best friend from it.”

“You won’t lose her.” Tom felt hurt on Danielle’s behalf. “She’ll realise soon enough that she’s not actually mad at us and that this isn’t some sort of trashy little fling and that we are happy together, then she will realise you are all the more special.” His smile was blatant through the phone.

“Especially when we decide to…Shit, I am being called back onto set here. Tom, I will talk to you later and I am so happy for you, bye.”

Tom did not even get to say goodbye before Danielle hung up the phone, not that he would have been able to utter the word anyway. He stood, phone still to his ear as he processed what Danielle had been saying before she was called off. She was clearly about to mention something that indicated that she was thinking of something regarding the long-term future for them. His curiosity was piqued at what she could have been about to say. Looking at the screen, he realised he had received several more texts of congratulations, one of which was from Emma.

Emma – Just heard, well done. X

Tom stared at the message before deciding what to text back.

Tom – thanks, sis, sort of shocked, obviously, in an honoured sort of way. By the way, is everything okay? Elle thinks you are angry at her.

Tom looked at the phone for a moment wondering should he have mentioned Elle, before pressing send and turning it off, heading through the departures lounge to start the journey back to London. His trip back to Sudan was over, and in truth, felt worn from it, but, armed with new experiences of the situation there due to his revisiting, he would be able to speak more of it and the terrible situation there, so hr knew it was worth it.

*

“Hey Irish,” Danielle looked at the sound guy who was standing nearby with a few other behind the scenes set staff. “We’re stuck working this weekend, but off earlyish Saturday and late on Sunday, so we are having an unofficial Christmas Party, you in?”

Danielle had taken out her phone as soon as he had informed her that they were working to tell Tom. “I’m probably not going to be able to.”

“Cancelling plans?” he asked, referring to her phone.

“Himself and I were supposed to be going to friends, so yeah.”

One of the make-up artists looked at her curiously. “You never mentioned a boyfriend.”

Danielle froze for a moment, thinking as fast as she could. “Does anyone around here, if you don’t have a wedding band or a diamond ring, I don’t know anyone’s relationship status.”

“True actually. So what will be your plans now?” The artist conceded.

“I will have to tell him the situation and see what he does about it, he may come here instead now.”

“Surely he can join us all then.”

She looked at the other woman apologetically. “He’ll be just back from a tedious flight, so I will mention it, but I can’t give a definite answer yet.”

“Ooh, he sounds fancy, what does he do?”

“Promotion,” Danielle thought quickly, technically, it was not a lie.

“Meh, scratch that,” The other woman dismissed, “at least in makeup, I get to work up close with celebrities. So Danny has an introvert boyfriend, let me guess, you two sit in, watch Game of Thrones and read most days off.” She smiled playfully.

“Not really a big fan of the show, but yeah, read, relax, walk the dog and going for a run usually.”

“Ooh, a dog and everything, very cosy. I hope we get to meet him.”

Danielle smiled politely, but in her mind, she feared such a thing, not yet mentally ready to declare to the wider world about her celebrity boyfriend. “Maybe if he is feeling up to it, we can join you all.” She commented as she thought of what to say to Tom of what was now her weekend, knowing full well he would plead for her to allow him to join her for it.

“Cool, so Danny is a ‘maybe’, what about you Jack?” the makeup artist decided to focus on who else could be roped into a drinking session.

Danielle just smiled, part of her relieved that she already had set up the excuse for her not being there at the weekend. A piss-up, in the guise of a Christmas party, was the last thing she wanted, especially that she knew Tom would be back. Unlocking her phone, she decided to finish and send the text to Tom.

Danielle – Your coming home has saved me from a weekend of hangovers and regrets. Are you coming Friday or Saturday?

*

“It hilarious,” Danielle erupted in fresh giggles.

“I respectfully disagree,” Tom grumbled, though he was somewhat surprised by her reaction, relieved that she had not been upset.

“It’s hilarious, trust me.” Danielle reaffirmed, looking at her laptop. “Though what has me concerned is; the artist putting it there because they knew you lived nearby, which is somewhat odd and unsettling, and how did the paparazzi know you would be passing there. Was it all done as a stunt?”

“You think I set this up?” there was both hurt and anger in his voice.

Danielle sighed, she knew he was jetlagged and that he was always somewhat sensitive when people suggested that he was media hungry. “No, I am saying that they would, of course, know you are home, since you were on the TV this morning, talking about your trip, which, by the way, was a very well done piece, but let’s face it, I knew it would be, I think they did the stunt to keep making money off you and her, even if all you were doing was going to Sainsbury’s for some milk.”

“Sorry,” Tom groaned, his tiredness blatant in his voice, “I shouldn’t…”

“Love, you’re exhausted, please, go get some rest.” Danielle encouraged.

“I’m not…”

“Tom, you seem to forget you were on telly this morning, I saw you with my own two eyes, you’re bollixed tired, don’t deny it. Get some rest, after all, you promised to come see me this weekend.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the others, I can entertain myself for a couple hours?” Tom asked, turning on the kettle to make a cup of tea while he read over a few things that had accumulated while he was away.

“Well, let us look at everything for a moment, I could go drinking, something you and I both know of my lack of interest in, with a bunch of people I only know three weeks and will only be working with for another two, or I could hide away in a hotel room with my incredibly sexy boyfriend and show him how much I have missed him over the past few weeks, especially when I may have bought something just for the occasion. Such a difficult decision to make.” She feigned a tone of deep thought for a moment before giggling. “I ought to spank that delectable derrière of yours for even suggesting such a thing.”

“I am not going to lie, I am looking forward to seeing…wait, you want to spank me and you bought something, please tell me it’s something I can ogle you in?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” She could not hide the grin on her face or the excitement in her tone.

“Darling, you have no idea how much I want to get in my car and drive there to you, right this instant.” He groaned in frustration.

“Aw, is my poor man frustrated?” she half-joked.

“Well, thanks to your imagery, I am now sporting something that could…”

“Herd cattle?” Danielle laughed, loving how he was getting more and more wound up.

“Country mouse.” Tom grinned, using Danielle’s own analogy of herself.

“City mouse,” she retorted jestfully.

“Darling, I cannot wait to be around you.”

“Are you heading to your mum’s between now and then?”

Tom’s brow furrowed slightly, unsure as to why she was asking about his mother. “I don’t plan to, why?”

“I was just going to ask you to send me a picture of Mac, I miss him.” she stated sadly.

“If I do, I will.” He promised.

“They have a collie dog staying here at the moment that reminds me of him, I think one of his parents was a collie and the other a German Sheppard, it is so like him.”

“They let dogs stay there?”

“Yeah, not everyone wants to put their dogs in kennels when they go away, so they allow them here for another ten pound a night.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“I know, right? So if you see him, tell him I miss him and I will see him soon, and get me a photo.”

“I promise if I see him, I will.” He smiled, loving how much Danielle cared for the scraggy pup he had rang her about one cold morning while he was on set. “I will talk to you soon, and trust me when I say, I cannot wait to join you.”

“Goodbye Tom, I…I love you.” She admitted in a meek voice.

Tom’s eyes widened at her words, she had said them once or twice before, but never over the phone like that. “I love you too, Elle.” He smiled, “Goodbye, darling.” As soon as Danielle hung up, Tom thought to himself for a moment and then grinned slyly, so with a quick Google, he retrieved the number he required and pressed the call button. When a woman answered the phone, he put his most charming voice on. “Hello, I know this is an odd request, but I need to ask a favour and keep something secret for me.”