#but i also don’t want to wear contacts for longer than necessary

[the-travelling-witch]

Get those silly red flower sunglasses, u would rock those

listen, i would get some fun sunglasses with cool colour gradients or shapes but i don’t think they come with prescription all that often and i a) don’t wear contacts a lot, b) am kinda blind without them and c) i’m clumsy as hell and i don’t feel like face planting every other step

(and d) i’m not nearly cool or pretty enough to pull anything like that off, though i so wish i could :’))

so for now, i need a pair i can yk… drive with and see stuff with ^^;

yk there’s a reason my first oc often wears coloured glasses

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 2

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

<< previous ♡ next >>

“That’s the girl, the one Chan told us about earlier,” one of the men says. Your eyes graze his frame. He looks cold, and you immediately decide you don’t want to get on his bad side. 

“Must be,” says the other man, his voice a low timbre that sends shivers down your spine. This man has long golden hair that reaches just past his shoulders and beautiful almond shaped eyes with brown irises. His heart-shaped lips and pointed nose give him an appearance that’s scarily similar to that of an elf, an unworldly beauty that makes you jealous that he was given such great looks. Compared to Chan, he wears a white button down shirt, adorned with silver rings that show off his hands, fingers long and nimble. Once again you can’t help but think about Hyunjin and his comparable beauty. They’re both so pretty, surely a false demeanor since they’re involved in the mafia. You hate yourself for noticing how attractive he is and how your heart skips a beat when your eyes make contact. 

“I’m Y/N,” you say. They stare at you for longer than necessary, and you gulp, reminding yourself to not feel intimidated. Show no weakness. Be strong. “Uh… is it okay if I make myself food? I’m starving.” 

“Oh yeah, go ahead and help yourself,” says the man with the blond hair. “I’m Felix, and this is Lee Know.” You glance at the man named Felix and nod, engraving his name into your brain. You decide to do just what he says, and you help yourself. You’re already nervous as the conversation lulls, knowing that the three of you won’t really have much to talk about. You notice that Lee Know is eating a bowl of cereal, and you opt on preparing yourself one as well. You also decide to eavesdrop on their conversation that has just continued. 

“Chris says that this mission will be very easy for you, Lee Know. It’ll be your standard infiltration. You’ll be there for a week, get dirt on them, come back.” You decide for the time being to not let them know you’re listening, though they’re smart enough to know you probably are.  “Jungwon has never seen your face before, and I heard he’s looking for new recruits as a method of retaliation.” 

You tense when you hear the name, and wonder if they know about your previous affiliation with the man. You can’t help the desperateness that runs through your body, the spark of hope, and suddenly it’s like you’re on the concrete again wishing for Jungwon to take you back, despite your better judgment. Your mouth is running before you can stop it, though. 

“Lee Know? You look like you would be a good spy,” you say in a sultry tone. “I bet you’re so smart.” Flirting has never been your forte, but an opportunity has arisen. 

The man is stoic, and he looks like he’s trying to not give you the time of day. In fact, he ignores you and moves on with the conversation. Your eyes flit to Felix, however, and notice his jaw tense at your actions. Your heartbeat speeds up and you continue on even though you know your attempts are futile. 

You lean against the counter with your cereal, letting your gaze land on Lee Know. You hope it's intense and filled with lust, and not ridiculous and embarrassing like you feel. You twirl a loose strand of hair around your finger. 

“You know, you could take me with you? I know a thing or two about ENHA, believe it or not. I can be your informant, I’m surprisingly deceptive.” You wink at him and that’s enough to get a rise out of him. He scoffs. You’re sure that’s the most reaction that the man has ever given.

“Absolutely not,” he speaks. 

“Come on, I’m sure you can do it, you seem like a perfectly capable man… But that’s what I’m here for, right? For you to use me to your advantage. So… use me,” you drawl out. 

“Enough,” you hear, but the voice doesn’t come from Lee Know. It’s Felix, instead, who seems to have had enough of your antics. You gaze up at him innocently, mocking offence. 

“I could be really useful, you know.” 

“You must think we’re really dumb,” he says. That makes you furrow your brow. 

“What–” 

“We know why you’re here. We aren’t going to let you use us, and you need to learn your place, fast. You think we’re dumb enough to let you walk right back into their territory? Everyone here knows that you’re affiliated with Yang Jungwon. So stop acting dumb and flirting with anybody you can see in order to get your way,” he spits. 

You’re at a sudden loss for words. You feel sick to your stomach, though, and you decide to abandon your cereal for some peace in your room again. It was a mistake to come down here, to interact with them, and you whip around to the direction that you came without making a sound. 

Felix reaches out and grabs your wrist, insistent on keeping you in the conversation but you wince, pulling your wrist away from his grasp. He furrows his brow, inspecting your features as you try to leave again; he proves to be faster, grabbing onto you once more and taking the injured area in his hands. You go to speak, to tell him to back off, but he squeezes gently as if to test something.  You fight yourself from screaming in pain and he traces his finger along the underside of your palm, examining the area. 

“Stop,” you tell him. “I’m leaving.” You realize too fast that he has noticed that you’re hurt and this makes anxiety beat hard against your ribcage. You start to pull away again but his arms envelop you, dragging you to the kitchen sink before you can even register what’s happening. His hands are on your arm and the faucet is turned on, and suddenly he’s scrubbing the affected area. “Felix, shit! That hurts, stop!” 

He’s more gentle now but your makeup and hard work has been washed down the drain. Unfortunately, as he brings your wrist to the light your bruises are completely exposed. His gaze meets yours and he looks at you expectantly. Your eyes meet the floor instead, and you decide not to say anything. You hope he will drop the matter, even. 

But then he grabs your arm and bends your wrist at the joint, as if to see how badly you’re hurt. You can’t help the yelp that escapes from your lips this time. 

“Shit, Y/N, you know this is broken, right?” You blanche. “Who did this to you? Was it Jungwon?” 

“I’m fine,” you spit out. His grip tightens, as if he were to challenge you, and he moves your wrist again to prove a point. The tears pooling in your eyes prove him right. 

“You don’t look fine. Now, answer my question and maybe I can help you.” 

You don’t even have to look to tell he’s shooting daggers into your skull. He’s angry, though you can’t tell at what, and that just makes you even more irritated. 

“Why do you even care?” 

“God, just answer the fucking question! You’re telling me you’re trying to go crawling back to the man that broke your wrist this badly? Please, please, tell me you’re not that pathetic.”  You scoff at him, angry even though his words ring true. 

“Jungwon did it,” you tell him meekly. You feel ashamed as you finally meet his gaze, and he just looks at you sadly as he reaches into the freezer for an ice pack. 

“Put this on your wrist. I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he says forcefully. And he’s gone faster than you can even blink. The ice is soothing on your injury, and you find yourself wondering how you didn’t realize it was broken. 

You take what was once Felix’s seat, right next to Lee Know. He was dead silent during the ordeal with Felix and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. He chews his cereal slowly, staring straight ahead and purposefully not meeting your gaze. His silence is unsettling so you let out a long sigh. 

“Is Felix like the nurse or something?” you say. You’re partially joking but you’re still unable to think of any other words to ask what his role is around here. You can’t help but be infatuated by the man and what seems like a fiery personality even though you’ve only known him for moments. 

“He’s Chan’s right-hand man.” That takes you by surprise. Felix doesn’t seem like the leader type and you wouldn’t have guessed that he holds that much power; he seems more delicate, soft-mannered, but you suppose you’re a historically bad judge of character. 

“I would’ve thought Hyunjin was his right-hand man,” you admit. You think back to earlier today, Hyunjin irritated at Chan for not consulting him before making the decision of bringing you here. 

“It’s not really your business,” Lee Know tells you. “But Hyunjin is his consigliere. He serves as an advisor, a confidant, whereas Felix is more like the underboss,” he explains. “While it’s Hyunjin’s job to know everything, Felix is really the second in command. Don’t take him lightly.” You’re grateful for the explanation, though you’re more surprised he went out of his way to give it to you. The conversation lulls, and you suppose that gives him time to think about the scene he had just witnessed. 

“You know it’s stupid to hide your injuries,” he says. You startle, and it’s strange how he still refuses to look at you, you think. “That’s why he’s mad. You could get more hurt. And while you’re here that’s the last thing we want for you. So quit it and let us help you, or you’re going to start to piss us off. Chan hates liars, you know. I know you don’t want to see him pissed off.” Your face heats up in embarrassment. For someone who usually seems to revel in staying silent, his words pack a punch. 

Felix has returned, unaware of the tension in the room and holding various bandages. He pries the ice away from your wrist and inspects it once again. Then, he takes a long bandage and slowly wraps it around the appendage. He’s too close to you, and you try not to focus on his warm breath against your skin. The ceiling suddenly looks really interesting, you decide, and that’s where you keep your gaze. His fingers linger on your skin, and it takes you everything not to think about it. 

“Keep this on for now. I’ll find some sort of brace for you, but until then try not to bend or apply pressure to the area,” he advises. He backs up, examining your frame and nods, content with his work. “Now if you really want to leave and go back to your room, you can. I know Chan wants to talk to you.” And that is the last thing he says before leaving the kitchen, leaving behind a pile of dishes and food on the counter. 

You return to your seat and eat in silence. The food doesn’t sit well and you feel nauseous, reminded of the fact that it’s been at least a day since you’ve eaten anything. Regardless, you push through and let the substance through your mouth, making feeble attempts to nourish your body with just cereal. 

Despite Felix’s warning, you shouldn’t be surprised when you open the door and Bang Chan is sitting on your bed, waiting for you expectantly, but you kind of are.

“Sit,” he says, and you know it’s not a request. Your body carries itself to the bed before your brain can think, ‘stop, no, it’s a bad idea.’ You can tell that Chan is the type of person with a very commanding presence and it doesn’t take much convincing for anybody to listen to him. That scares you a bit. 

“Y/N, do I intimidate you?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you respond without missing a beat. 

“Good. I guess you’re smart after all.” Sitting here next to him on the bed feels wrong. You don’t know how else to describe it but you tremble at the sight of him. His eyes flit down to your bandaged wrist and he examines it carefully. “I see that you took the time to fix your broken wrist. That’s good.” 

“You knew it was broken?” You question incredulously. 

He looks at you from the side, as if he can’t believe the words that fall from your mouth. “You didn’t?” He challenges. 

You say nothing. 

“You look much more presentable than you did before, it seems like you’re a pro at covering up your injuries and fooling people.” He finally faces you, and you meet his gaze. You try not to think about how your knees are touching or how your heart is beating fast at the dangerous man before you. “It’s concerning, no? You shouldn’t be able to hide it so well. You won’t be able to hide things here, you’ll find that my men and I are a lot smarter than the people you’ve been surrounding yourself with.” And when his hands come up to touch your throat, you’re reminded of his prodding at your bruises just hours earlier. 

“Don’t,” you plead. 

“Keep an eye on your bruises,” he advises. “We can have someone look at it if it gets much worse. How does your head feel?”

“It’s fine,” you say, touching your wound mindlessly. You don’t mention the soft drumming sensation that’s been bothering you since you woke up. You wish the conversation would change, suddenly uncomfortable discussing your injuries with the man who inflicts violence so casually, and Chan, the perceptive man he is, changes the subject. 

“I need to lay down some ground rules about you staying here,” he says, clearing his throat. You nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Number one: No contacting Yang Jungwon under any circumstances. I doubt that this will be feasible for you in any way seeing as you have no method of contacting him, but if for some reason you are in contact with him we will have assumed that you’ve leaked information to him and you will be punished. The punishment for betrayal is death,” he says and you gulp. “Number two: don’t try to escape. We will find you and there will be consequences. You seem like someone who likes to push their luck and I already know you’re bold, so I’m telling you not to try it.” 

“You’re threatening me,” you observe.

“I’m warning you,” he corrects. “I know it’s presumptuous of me to expect your undying loyalty the first day that you’re here, but I expect for you to treat me and the rest of us with respect. You respect me, I’ll respect you. I can ensure your safety, so don’t do anything stupid and maybe you’ll start to get some freedoms back. Just don’t test me.” 

“Yes, sir,” you respond. You’re sure that’s what he wants you to say and you look at the ground when he stands, walking until he’s out of sight. When he reaches your door, you hear it squeak open. 

“Have a good night, Y/N.” And with that, he is gone. You find yourself letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You’re alone in the room. You can’t help but think, I need to get the hell out of here. You know you’re acting dumb, especially when he just ensured you of your safety, but you can’t help your mind from racing. ‘Don’t contact Jungwon,’ he had told you. You find yourself not really wanting to anymore, which you suppose is good, but you still wonder if he’s even noticed that you’re gone. You wonder if he thinks that you’re dead, but you know that he has enough ties to the city that he could find out that information easily if he wanted to. What’s worse though is that you’re reminded of the fact that you have no way to contact anybody, to let them know you’re safe. You feel like a caged bird and think that if you stay, you might be stuck here for the rest of your life. You’ll never get to see your sister again, the only family that you have, and even though you haven’t talked to her since you started dating Jungwon you need to see her, to tell her you’re alright. She’s probably worried sick about you. That alone is enough for you to make a decision: You’re going to get out of here now before you don’t have the opportunity to. You’re sure Chan isn’t expecting you to leave so soon after giving you the direct order not to, and if you’re smart enough, you can take your sister and get the Hell out of the country before he has any way of figuring out where you are. Sure enough, your window is unlocked and it opens just wide enough for you to slip out of the room easily. You take one last look at the room given to you in this unfamiliar place and you have no regrets as you slip away into the night without leaving a trace. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: who's ready to read the first mini-chapter on Wednesday? it'll be a small backstory with one of the main characters that's not Y/N. who do y'all think will be first? taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 2 - An affair to remember

A/N: Chapter 2, here we are! Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed reading this. And no, I couldn’t just settle on one photo.

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ loss of virginity, age gap, smut.

Word count: 4025

An affair to remember

After trying around eleven outfits and disliking each of them for some reason or other, you settled on a simple floral button down blouse with a pair of jeans. You weren’t exactly sure if he’d asked you out on a date or the drink was just a friendly offer.

Of course it’s a date, you kissed him, Y/N, you thought to yourself. The mirror of your car revealed a visibly nervous reflection of you, fixing your hair multiple times, redoing your lipstick before you shook yourself mentally and drove off. Stark tower was a twenty minute drive from your apartment, and since it was a Sunday, traffic was in your favour thankfully.

By the time the tall, shiny building came into view, you had worked yourself up into taking this as a business meeting. You would be professional with the man and politely decline drinks if he’d offered. It would be inappropriate. You were sure he felt the same way.

Apparently your arrival was expected and welcomed in a pleasantly surprising way. A chubby, friendly looking man gave you a smile as you entered the foyer, introducing himself as Happy Hogan. He escorted you up to Mr. Stark’s floor or rather floors which was the penthouse of the ninety-three storeyed building.

The space was swanky, stylish and impeccably designed. Floor to ceiling windows that offered the most stunning views of the city, sleek and modern furniture that only screamed rich. You smoothed down your top and cleared your throat as you approached the outdoor seating area where Tony sat, wearing a dark coloured shirt and some jeans. Casual but still quite well put together, you thought.

“Ah! Miss Y/L/N, you made it. Thanks, Happy.”

As your hands touched, the spark was back, one that made your insides buzz with excitement as you smiled at each other, letting your handshake extend for longer than necessary. It was only when Happy cleared his throat to announce his exit that you broke contact.

As he left, you considered bringing up the elephant in the room that loomed large, causing you to shuffle your weight from one foot to the other. Maybe if you addressed it right away, you could move on and be done with it? Not let the meeting be awkward for the rest of the evening.

Meanwhile, Tony was trying his best to focus on anything but your irresistible lips. He was drawn to them, it was quite unexplainable but he wanted nothing more than to have your lips on his again.

“So…” you started, twirling a lock of hair nervously between your fingers as you looked around, aware of his gaze following.

“So.”

“I think we should talk about what happened. Look, it was a mistake, I don’t know what came over me, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Tony blinked his disappointment away and nodded in agreement. It was probably for the best.

“Yeah, probably. You’re right. It—it was inappropriate.”

“Yes! I mean, you’re friends with my Dad and also way out of my league.”

Your admission made him smirk, watching your cheeks flush with realization of what you had said.

“Out of your league huh? What is your league? Overzealous frat boys?” he teased.

“Haha. You’re funny.” You rolled your eyes but hoped he’d drop the subject, thankfully he did, brushing it off as no harm done, much to your relief.

You unconsciously reached for your camera, thinking it’d be better if you steered the subject to the big photoshoot.

“You brought your camera, why?” Tony murmured, pointing to the device sticking out from your bag.

“I just thought I’d do a few test shots of the locations you’d be photographed in. Check the lighting and things. It will be a day shoot, right?”

Tony frowned, realizing he was yet to work out all of that or he probably had been sent the schedule but it slipped his mind. He also thought it’d be a good idea to inform Natalie about the change in photographer, since the magazine had been adamant on bringing their own person for the job.

“That’s a good question, I have no idea. But don’t worry, I’ll have my secretary send you the details.”

Humming in agreement, you asked if he could show you around the space, get an idea about what the vibe of the interview was going to be like. He happily agreed and began a tour of the place, explaining what housed on each floor, giving you a background about his business which you kinda already knew - one Google search was all it took to give the necessary details and some unnecessary ones as well. Tony had a notorious reputation of being a playboy, he certainly lived a very colourful life and had made no qualms about it.

Still, his eyes reflected the passion he had for technology as he spoke, the pride he took in pointing out all of the achievements Stark Industries had over the years.

Primarily a weapons manufacturer, he decided on taking a different route for his company after a particularly life-changing incident in Afghanistan. The man was abducted by a terrorist group called Ten Rings and kept in a cave for three months.

While how he escaped remained a mystery to the world, his return had been miraculous. He led you back to his grand living room, gesturing you to take a seat.

“You said an explosive blew up not far from you and yet you came out of that cave scratch free? How?” you asked about his incredulous story.

“Not just any explosive, it was one of my own creations. And I never said it was scratch free.”

He seemed to ponder for a while, looking around as if to check if anyone was spying on you two before he reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them to reveal what looked like a circular battery-like device emitting a faint blue light. It seemed as if it was jammed in his chest, the peripheral skin scarred.

“What is that?”

He chuckled as your eyes went wide, glancing down at the device that was keeping him alive.

“It’s an electromagnet that essentially keeps the shrapnel from reaching my heart. It’s called an arc reactor, there is another one of these, a much bigger one that powers this building.” he explained, buttoning his shirt back up and letting you know how he managed to power it with the help of a man named Ho Yinsen in the caves.

If it weren’t for that little device, and the brave sacrifice of Yinsen, the world would’ve lost Tony Stark and you would’ve never met this incredible man.

“And here I assumed you sold your soul to the devil.”

Your words made him laugh, feeling a little flutter in that battery-operated heart. He wasn’t sure what made him reveal the arc reactor to you, he hadn’t let anyone see it, except for Rhodey since he found him in the desert. Something about you reassured him that you were trustworthy. You were like a breath of fresh air.

After returning, Tony Stark had dedicated much of his business to RnD in the field of science and technology. You listened with keen interest, getting to know the man better with each passing moment, you couldn’t help but admire him for all the success he’d achieved.

“Gosh. Where are my manners? I haven’t offered you anything to drink, Miss Y/L/N.” Tony exclaimed, right as one of his bots whirred in with a silver tray that had a bottle of champagne on ice with two glasses.

“Robots bringing in champagne? You planned this, didn’t you?” you chuckled, finding it rather hard to refuse it. I mean, it wouldn’t really hurt having one glass. Right?

“I’m just trying to make a good first impression.” he shrugged, popping the bottle open expertly before filling the two glasses.

“Why? You’re not an overzealous frat boy.” you teased, taking a sip of the champagne while holding his gaze.”

“Oh honey, I’m much better.”

There it was again.

The tingle of excitement you felt deep within your belly every time you had a banter. Even though you wouldn’t admit to yourself, you were attracted to the man. He was just so sure of who he was, he carried himself with a certain confidence that was quite sexy.

For the next couple of hours, you two spoke about anything and everything, making you realize how easy he was to talk to despite the age difference. You spoke about your relationship with your parents, your eyes lit up each time you mentioned how your father had been your biggest cheerleader while Tony listened with a soft smile on his face. His phone kept buzzing every now and then and he kept dismissing it. When it rang for the fourth time, you thought it was time for you to head back since you’d stayed for longer than you had intended to.

“You should get that, it’s probably important. I’ll get going.”

Tony stood up with you, not really ready to let you go just yet, though the incessant buzzing of his Stark pad was hard to ignore.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you for another glass? Perhaps some wine? Happy could drive you home later..”

The offer was tempting, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye either but you had to. You would see him next week anyways.

“Thank you, but I think I should head back, it’s late. What you’ve done with Stark Industries is truly remarkable. Thank you for sharing your story with me. You’re an incredible man, Tony. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for it.” You smiled, meaning every word you’d said.

He had been complimented many times before but something about your words made him believe it. He felt his heart dance a little with joy.

“See you on Wednesday then?”

“Uh yeah. See you.”

Deciding on a friendly hug, you wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent, something so oddly comforting about it. Smiling to yourself when you felt Tony’s breath against your hair, you pulled back only to find him staring at your lips. You kissed him on the cheek quickly, and stepped back, not trusting yourself to not make the same impulsive decision no matter how much you wanted to do it.

“Bye, Tony.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He watched you until the elevator doors closed, leaving you to let out a sigh and lean against the cold metal. The whole way down, you contemplated what it would be like to kiss Tony, recalling the moment your lips had touched the other night. It only lasted a second but it hadn’t left your mind ever since.

You wanted to do it again.

You wanted more. Him. In every way possible. It was like a need you felt that drew you to him, like a moth to a flame. You knew it would be dangerous and yet it was impossible to resist the temptation.

It was probably why you decided to go with your instincts and press the button that led you back to Tony Stark.

He had his back to you when you reached his floor again, you saw the same flame of desire dancing in his eyes that danced in yours as he turned to find you standing there. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as you took long strides and he met you halfway, lips colliding in an instant.

You felt your breath knocked out of your chest as you kissed Tony Stark, a rush of excitement surging through your body as his arms went around you to pull you flush against his chest, keeping you there. You gasped at the intensity and Tony used the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss.

A lingering taste of champagne mixed with a hint of coffee is what you tasted as you gave in and your hands found their way around his neck, carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Not realizing he had walked you back until you were met with the cool wall behind, you felt Tony smile against your lips before they trailed lower, along your jaw, down to your neck. Letting out a soft moan, you tugged on his hair silently signaling him to not stop. Desire flooded through you and gathered between your legs as he continued nipping at your skin, reveling in the little sounds you made. His hands slid up your body to brush against your breasts, his thumb deliberating until your nipples stood erect against his touch.

You felt goose pimples across your body where he touched you as his hands slipped inside your blouse, wanting to feel more of your skin. Wasting no time, Tony unbuttoned it hastily and threw it to the side, bringing his lips over your collarbone, littering small kisses along it.

Letting out a sigh, you felt his hands toy with the hem of your jeans as his mouth closed over your bra-covered nipple. You weren’t alien to the feeling but your eyes fluttered open when Tony unzipped your jeans and let it slide down your legs.

“Bedroom?” he asked huskily after you’d stepped out of them, leaving you in a matching pair of lingerie. You managed a nod before following him inside his bedroom, a heady cocktail of desire and lust swimming in your mind as the man gently laid you against the soft mattress.

“So gorgeous, Y/N.”

He crawled over you with purpose, his gaze darkening as he took in your form before his lips crashed against yours once more. The kiss had more urgency this time, while he prodded your legs open to allow you to feel his growing erection.

You let out another gasp feeling his hardness brush against your core, a rush of ardor followed by sudden insecurity made its presence known as you sat up on your elbow, breaking the kiss.

“Tony, I’ve never um–I mean I’m a–” you fumbled with the choice of words, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you tried to convey you had never done this before. Tony rested his arms on either side, still breathing heavily as he took your words in, his own heartbeat pounding against his ears while blood had rushed southward.

“Do you want to stop? We can if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, not wanting to back out this but you had apprehensions which he could sense. Gently caressing your bare legs, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tell me what you want.”

You answered by pulling him in for another hungry kiss and wrapping your legs around him to let him know the answer.

“Words, sweetheart.” he murmured, rolling his hips towards your center once again.

“I want you, Tony. I want this.” you managed, unbuttoning his shirt quickly, surprised at your assertion. In the darkness of the room, the blue glow emitted from his arc reactor acted like a source of light, rendering his features luminescent.

With a couple of hasty kisses against your lips, he made you lie back before trailing his path of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, discarding your bra to expose you some more. Cupping one in a hand, tweaking the nipple between his fingers, Tony closed his mouth around the other one, coaxing out a needy whine.

Treating both of them equally, he allowed his hand to travel lower to cup your sex over your panties, smirking as he found them already damp. You felt your breathing turn shallower as his fingers traced along your clothed slit, brushing against your bundle of nerves every so often.

“I want to taste you, sweetheart. Want to know if you taste just as sweet down there as you do here.” Tony’s words turned your insides to jelly, his lips sucking on your tongue as he slowly peeled the last remaining cloth from your body.

Your heart hammered inside your ribcage as he kissed his way down your body, settling between your legs, holding them apart as you instinctively went to close them.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

You did as you were told, wetting your bottom lip with your tongue as you felt his breath down there, the air making your glistening folds shine eagerly. He first laid small kisses along your inner thigh before his tongue peeked out to tease you open. You let out a cry when his tongue licked a strip up your entrance, the action wildly exciting and new for nobody had gone down on you before. You felt him draw small circles around your clitoris, sending waves of desire down your spine as you squirmed for more.

“Oh my God!” you panted, anchoring your hands in his hair while he continued.

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” he did everything in his might to not devour you the way he wanted to, knowing you’d probably feel overwhelmed if he did. In all honesty, your scent drove him mad and your taste was irresistible, he couldn’t get enough.

“Yes! Feels so good, Tony!”

Your words encouraged him to continue the assault, every lick and nudge drawing the sweetest of sounds from you. Your wetness gathered on his finger as he traced a line along it, pushing it inside your heat, grunting as he felt your walls immediately clamp around it.

“Relax, Y/N.” Tony repeated, slowly stroking you with his finger, getting you ready for his cock that strained against his pants. Your slickness helped when he added another finger, drawing out yet another moan as you felt an increase in pressure down there.

His thumb brushed against your clit while he massaged your walls open for him, making you lose all sense of coherence as you felt something building inside of you. The familiar tightness low in your belly when you pleasured yourself when alone, only this time, it felt like it had increased by tenfold. Tony held you down as your hips rose up from the bed in their own accord, matching his ministrations. As your moans got louder, you sensed you were close, tugging on his hair once more, you felt your walls tighten around his fingers.

“Let go, Y/N. Come for me.”

And you did. It felt like a tight-wound rope snapped, giving way for an intense wave of pleasure that shook your body. It felt exhilarating at the same time unreal, like you were floating away on a cloud of bliss. When you came down from your high, Tony had discarded his pants and was slanting his lips over yours, letting you taste some of your essence.

Feeling bolder now, you reached between your bodies to stroke his hard cock over his boxers, hearing his breathing hitch.

“Remove them.” He ordered, aiding you when pushed them down his legs to let his cock spring free.

You felt your walls clamp around nothing at the sight of him, he was big, making you wonder if it would hurt when you finally had him.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you watched Tony tear open a foil of condom and roll it over his length. Settling between your legs once more, he kissed you again, this time with a languid urgency.

You tensed up as his erection poked against your core, sensing it Tony broke the kiss to look into your eyes for signs of apprehension.

“We can still stop if you want to, Y/N. Just say the word.”

Appreciative of how considerate he was being, you knew you were ready. You wanted him, as much as he wanted you. Wrapping your fingers around his length delicately, you stroked him a few times, watching his mouth fall open.

“I want you to fuck me, Tony.”

You whispered, lying back against the pillows and allowing him to take control. He lined up against your entrance, gathering your arousal as he went before slipping just the head of cock inside.

“This will hurt a little. Breathe through it for me?”

Nodding, you felt him push in further, letting out a grunt at your tightness. He was right, the girth of him sliding inside your channel felt odd but electrifying. Tony felt his cock push past the barrier as he entered you, giving you time to get used to the feeling.

You let out a cry as he bottomed out, the feeling of fullness overwhelmed your senses as the pain stung.

Retracting only a little at first, Tony drove his hips back into you, repeating the action a few more times as you felt pain receding and giving way to a new kind of pleasure.

“More.” You begged, digging your fingers into his back as he complied.

Your tight heat felt so amazing around his cock, Tony felt himself getting lost in the feeling. Steadily he set a pace, pushing you against the mattress as his hips speared into you, drawing sinful moans.

The feeling of being wound up again took over, Tony smirked as you wrapped both your legs around his hips tighter, the new angle making his cock reach deeper inside your pussy.

“You’re so tight, Y/N. You’re close again, aren’t you?” He breathed, increasing the force of his thrusts to make his pubic bone brush against your clit.

“Yes! I’m so close. Please, Tony.” You whimpered, moving your hips to match up as sounds of your combined pleasure filled the room.

Reaching between your bodies, he teased your clit while driving in and out of your sopping heat, aiding your second orgasm. You felt yourself clamp around his cock before the same feeling of euphoria took over, making your walls spasm out of control.

Vision blurred and body convulsed under the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your veins as you rode out your high. Tony grunted against your ear as your spasming walls fueled his climax, causing his balls to tighten before he emptied himself in the condom, holding you close. Gingerly, he pulled out of you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness you felt.

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” you grinned lazily, accepting the soft kiss he offered.

As tired as you were, you didn’t protest when he nudged you to get up, leading you to the shower for a quick clean up, the soreness between your legs evident.

You exchanged several kisses in the shower, the hot water working wonders on relaxing your muscles, making it evident you were in need of a nap soon.

Once fully dressed, Tony resisted the urge to make you stay again and walked you out while your car stood, waiting. He could sense you were preoccupied with something since you hadn’t said much.

“Tony, about the photoshoot..”

“Oh no, that’s no longer required. I just wanted to sleep with you.” He shrugged, making your stomach drop for a second before he chuckled, enjoying his joke way more than you did.

“Come on, Y/N. I asked you because you’re the person for the job. This doesn’t change anything.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist to give you a quick kiss.

That definitely quietened your insecurities, but it didn’t ease the thought that you had lost your virginity to this gorgeous man who was not only older, but very good friends with your parents. If they ever found out…

On your way back, you also thought about how you’d break the news to Izzy, there was not a thing you kept from her. And if you didn’t, you were positive she’d find out somehow, she was quite shrewd about these things.

As uncertain as you were about it all, you couldn’t shake off the fact that you had slept with Tony Stark.

And it was fantastic.

Changing into comfortable clothes, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a smile that refused to leave your face before deciding on pulling out your phone.

Cocky billionaires are still not my type, you know…

You texted Tony once you reached home, a big grin on your face, waiting for his response as the three dots appeared almost instantly on your screen.

Oh I know. Maybe I’ll change your mind. Actually I’m pretty sure of it.

Thoughts?

[kunikinnie]

kunikida wants to hold hands

BSD: Love is War? 100 Followers Event Genre: fluff Word count: 2k Warnings: none, I think Synopsis: This not-a-date couldn't get any worse. a/n: gotta make Kunikida happy somewhere, right? HAHAHAH AFTER 2 YEARS!!! also tagging @requiem626k! finally did it omg (also there's an Ace Attorney ref there somewhere hope someone notices heh)

This was not a date. 

That, dear readers, was the hundredth iteration of that very phrase in Kunikida’s mind. The ceaseless reminders were necessary for him to stay grounded in reality - or so he said.

Sure, he was in an amusement park. Sure, he was walking around with you. Sure, you were wearing clothes that were far more flattering on you than your usual.

But no. This was not a date. 

Your clients were chatting away in their line for one of the rides up to the very moment they entered it.

“It’s great that they’re having fun,” you said before licking your ice cream. It would be a shame if they hired bodyguards just so that they could have a “date” only for it to bore them, you thought.

“True, but don’t let it get to your head.” Your coworker’s eyes were fixed on your cone. “We’re not here to have fun.”

“I know. It’s still such a waste, though.”

You readjusted how you sat on the concrete bench, accidentally grazing his hand in the process. When you first entered the Agency, you used to apologize immediately after any accidental physical contact. However, years of working with your then superior have made you comfortable enough to ignore it.

For him, however, it was the complete opposite: the more he got to know you, the more he’d become mental over every single touch of yours, no matter how minor. 

That one just now was the 17th of that day alone - nearly thrice the daily average. Worse is that they lasted longer and had more skin contact than the average as well. Were you doing this on purpose? Or were you just that dense?

With how fast these numbers were rising, it’s no surprise how his blood pressure was about to set a new record.

“But we have to blend in somehow, right?”

“We’re already wearing casual clothes, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but we still don’t look like the others here - you know what I mean?”

Of course he knew what you meant. Most people that would visit an amusement park on a weekday were either students who had nothing better to do or couples whose schedules only allowed for these days. Guess which demographic happened to fill up the entire area during your mission.

…so what were you suggesting he did? Move closer? Win you stuff? Hold your hand? Because if you really wanted to, he would do any of those - even all of them at once. 

“We need to stay professional,” he said without missing a beat.

“Oh, just loosen up. Come on. You look like an annoyed dad forced to chaperone his teenage daughter with how deep your forehead lines are.”

At this point, he was used to your teasing, but still… annoyed dad? Really? Kunikida furrowed his eyebrows even further. “What should I look like, then?”

You stared at him, gears almost visibly turning. Under the scrutiny of your gaze he felt like the very ice cream that was melting in your hands. “Like this, maybe?”

Before he could guess what you were about to do, he felt something fluffy but stiff hug his head. It must have been a silly headband of sorts, judging from your barely-contained laughter - what the heck was it exactly?

He took the mystery headband off and stared at it. It was a pair of bunny ears.

“I thought you didn’t want us to stick out?”

“You wouldn’t stick out if you weren’t such a killjoy,” you grumbled. “At least you’d look cute with those on.”

 C-cute?

“Anyway, they're about to go to the next ride,” you said as you picked up your things and prepared to leave. “We should get moving too and stay professional.”

Ouch. A direct arrow to the heart. “Y-yes, got it.”

—

Unfortunately, Kunikida’s professionalism dwindled even further. But no, it wasn’t because of you. Well, yes, but actually no. 

The question of acting like a couple for the sake of the mission had been tossed around in his head countless times. Each and every assignment was given utmost importance and must be completed successfully at all means necessary. Had it been anyone else, Kunikida wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

But this is you were talking about. Something as simple as holding your hand was sending him into overdrive. Sure, he could hide his feelings as best as he could the whole day if needed, but what if he screwed up somehow and ended up putting you in an awkward position? Worse, what if you caught on behind his hidden motivations and rejected him in the middle of a mission? 

That would suck. Hard.

Plus, knowing that Dazai skipped work today and recently purchased a pair of binoculars, Kunikida was intent on not slipping up. What if that bastard were to take photos and tease him - worse, you, about it?

That would suck. Even harder.

“Are you okay, Kunikida-san?”

No, no he was not. “I-It’s a bit colder today than I expected.” It couldn’t be further from the truth - if anything, he wanted to sit forever under the shade - but it was the first excuse his dazed mind could come up with.

“Really? That’s new. You always come prepared.” 

Well, he was prepared with dealing with the situation at hand (i.e. lying), but it wouldn’t be right to say he was prepared to deal with his emotions for the rest of the day. If he were, he wouldn’t have had to stick to a stupid lie like this in the first place… although the temptation to use it as a reason to hold your hand was flipping his brain inside out.

But he was Kunikida Doppo. Professional detective of the professional Armed Detective Agency. He must not ruin his image any further. “It happens to all of us-”

He was cut off by a sudden draping of gentle warmth - you had put your own jacket over his shoulders. The astonishment left him speechless, staring at you like he had violated you somehow.

“Don’t worry about me. I literally just ate ice cream - you think I feel cold?”

“But-”

“It’s fine.” You smiled so sweetly to ease him but the guilt only continued to swallow him up. “Think about it as thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”

If that’s how you want to put it, then he had no reason to refuse. But that didn’t change the truth. How shameful of him, really. What a terrible senior, let alone aspiring boyfriend he was. If he were to receive any punishment for his acts, he would accept it gladly. He’d atone for his sins and live as a renewed man.

…and it seems someone above heard his prayer.

The two of you were now standing in front of the attraction your clients just entered.

“D-do we have to go in?” He asked meekly.

“I mean, shouldn’t we? If someone wanted to hurt them, the haunted house is the perfect choice. It’s dark, pretty isolated, and they could easily pose as one of the actors.”

Yes, you were right. You were absolutely right. The haunted house is the perfect choice in more ways than one… 

And just as he promised, Kunikida accepted his fate and walked into the realm of his worst nightmares.

Stoic as he was, you still took notice of his strange behavior. Despite the dim lighting you saw his face turn pale and his grip on your small jacket tighten significantly. Only then did your other senior’s words echo in your mind.

Nothing’s better than watching a horror movie with Kunikida-kun! 

Ah. How brave of him to enter then, you thought.

But to him, it was a foolish decision. It was the most foolishly made foolish decision he made that day as his mistakes had made themselves known once more. Just the heat from the additional jacket increased his sweat production, and his clammy hands nearly tore through the fabric. Never mind that you witnessed him like this now; at this point he’s so done the only desire he had left was not to tarnish the reputation of the Agency to your clients.

Although his senses were bombarded in almost every way possible, he forced them all to focus on the two in front of him - as if there were no one else, including you - and soon, it eased him by at least 20%. Then suddenly, an unaccounted 20% decrease relieved him as well - why that was the case he wasn’t sure.

He didn’t give the last observation much thought, however. By the time his brain slowly began to function again, you and your clients finally made it out of the house. Alive.

“I see why it’s pretty famous,” you chirped. “It really was scary!” 

You didn’t even seem bothered at all. Well, as long as you and your clients had fun, then all his suffering would not go in vain-

 Wait, since when was he holding your hand? 

“Oh, someone’s calling.”

As quick as the realization came, so did you let go of his hand to swipe your phone from your pocket. The mix of embarrassment and disappointment that swelled as your lingering warmth slowly disappeared couldn’t be fully described. 

“Yes. Alright, sir. We’ll be right there.”

—

And just like that, your clients left. Quite satisfied clients, you might even say.

“What a day that was!” You said as you stretched your arms. It was a surprise how full of energy you were, considering that you two were in the park for as long as the sun was up. “Weird that they didn’t catch the fireworks, though.”

“Fireworks?” 

“Well, it’s actually for some other event in some other place. But this is where the best view is!”

You pointed at the largest attraction in the park: the ferris wheel.

“...if you’d like to join me, that is.”

The two of you knew he had plans after your mission. In fact, you were convinced that he’d have rushed to leave right after they said goodbye. But to your surprise, he gladly accepted your offer.

“Of course I would.”

Half of him was surprised he gave in. The silent cries of errands to be done were almost deafening, given how much he had to reschedule because he spent too much time getting ready that morning. But the other and embarrassingly louder half was simply overjoyed at this opportunity to fulfill a secret wish of his: to ride the ferris wheel with the person he loved most.

Perhaps it was that elation that erased whatever anxiety he’d gone through that day. For the moment he began talking with you casually from the end of the line to the moment you entered the cab, he almost forgot every single embarrassing act and thought he’d gathered.

How could he forget the joy of just talking to and being with you? 

“Kunikida-san-” 

The fireworks started bursting in the sky, lighting it up with colorful hues.  

“You’re right,” you continued. “It is cold today.”

It took a few moments before your words registered into his brain. “Ah, right. Sorry about that.”

He swiftly removed your jacket from his shoulders and gently draped them over yours. And he should have just as swiftly let go, but the way you were staring at him made it impossible to let go. The look in your beautiful eyes… the thoughts that followed were nearly just as impossible to resist.

“I’m sorry.”

You suddenly stole the words he should be saying. But why?

“I should have been more clear.”

Before he knew it, you took his hand and grasped it firmly.

“This would warm me up much better.”

Hearing you say that literally took him aback. What was the meaning of that? Why would- Wait-

Your chuckle only deepened the redness on his entire face. “I’ve been trying to stop myself the whole day, you know.” You couldn’t have been joking. With that expression, you couldn’t have been… right?

“Then-” he nearly choked.  “Then you shouldn’t have stopped yourself.”

His voice was so soft that if you hadn’t been in an enclosed space, you might not have heard it at all. Yet every word made it through. “I thought you said we had to stay professional?”

He smiled. You were right. As your cab reached the top of the wheel and the fireworks boomed as loudly as your hearts, he finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I suppose there can be exceptions.”

taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp, @fyodorisbbg

[eris-snow]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐭

✨Quirk accident

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, fluff, bakugou's birthday series 2023

Bakugou and you get hit with an attachment quirk.

“So you’re telling me…” Bakugou growls, hand clenching yours. “We’re stuck like this.”

You don’t like Quirk accidents. Sure, you haven’t been in one, but you’ve heard plenty of stories of the sheer mayhem it could cause if the Quirk accidents weren’t handled properly.

Your Thursday that day had been used as a hands-on internship at your respective agencies because of a villain from the Hero Gala attack running around chaotically while setting things on fire.

There are two things that happened today:

Number 1: Bakugou and you caught the villain.

Number 2: The villain got you with his Quirk.

After a long, drawn-out interrogation that only ended around noon, Bakugou and you learnt the following.

The asshole’s Quirk was called “Attachment”, and meant that Bakugou and you had to spend your next 24 hours in each other’s presence. Sharing skin contact, as the villain explained weakly, was also needed in order to prevent both of you from suffering from panic attacks.

Your face heats up in utter embarrassment.

How cliche.

Aizawa takes one look at the both of you and declares the both of you as excused from your respective internships, before ordering you to shift all your necessary items into the living room. That was going to be the makeshift arrangement for this one night until the Quirk wears off.

Your homeroom teacher dismisses you with a tired yawn, and that’s when you’re shipped off back to the dorms with no one but yourselves to keep you occupied.

“This is stupid,” Bakugou snarls. “No way I’m sitting around here all day. You up for some hand-to-hand combat?”

Your heart jumps at the idea of normalcy, making you nod your head vigorously. “Let’s.”

The both of you make do with this. You change inside the bathroom while Bakugou stands with his back facing the door, and the physical combat checks out the villain’s lame Quirk criterias.

“Your kick is too low!” Bakugou yells at you while blocking your hit with his arm. “I know you can do better than that, Sunshine! Don’t start going fucking easy on me now!”

“It’s on,” You deadpan, landing a counterattack on his shoulder. “Don’t start getting all cocky, got it Bakugou?”

“Like hell, I will!”

That activity occupies you for a good few hours before you get back to the dorms.

After you’ve showered and gotten fully clothed, Bakugou and you try to complete homework. It’s obnoxiously subconscious, because that’s exactly when the Quirk starts to act up again.

You and Bakugou have a mutual, silent agreement to minimise as much physical contact as possible, and this Quirk had decided to derail your plan just for the fun of it.

Bakugou doesn’t like the idea of touching you. With his Quirk and the numerous number of people talking shit about how dangerous his Quirk is, he’s reframed from touching others ever since the dawn of middle school. He doesn’t want to hurt you, whether intentionally or not.

But even with all of this baggage, the pull towards you is too strong for him to ignore. He thought that just being there with each other would be enough to satisfy the Quirk, but apparently, he thought wrong. You look fidgety too, with the way you struggle on a math equation you can typically solve in your sleep.

Bakugou almost gives out when you stand up to walk towards the kitchen for a quick glass of water. It’s fucking stupid, that all it takes is 5 seconds without you and his hand is quivering aggressively with his breaths getting more laboured with the next. “Idiot,” He grits out, trying to ignore the anxiety that pools in his chest.

It only gets worse.

Unable to bear it any longer, Bakugou stumbles to his feet, staggering to where you headed without him.

He glares at the sight he sees when he rounds the corner. You’re stabilising yourself against a table, two quivering hands supporting your entire body was you take long, deliberate breaths.

“Dumbass,” He rasps, causing your head to shoot up to face him. The pull towards you is better now that you’re in closer proximity, but it’s not enough.

Those words echo off the walls of his brain.

Not enough.

He’s walking over to you, but it doesn’t do much to calm the storm of fear-stricken thoughts in him.

Not enough.

He takes one look at your face and grimaces. You’re having a hard time as well.

NOT ENOUGH.

Bakugou caves. “Give me your fucking hand,” He grits out, shoving his hand towards you. You don’t even think twice.

Your fingers intertwine as both of you take sharp inhales of relief, the haunting fear dissipating immediately the moment you make contact. “Never do that again,” Bakugou says, yanking a glass off the counter with you in tow, filling the cup up with water with one hand. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” You reply, taking the glass from him, looking embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Bakugou clicks his tongue. You’re such a Dumbass sometimes. Red eyes flickering to your joint hands, and Bakugou swallows back his initial annoyance.

“Let’s just go back.” Bakugou settles on, dragging you to the living room where your study materials. He tries to ignore the feeling of your hand in his, tries to think of anything to keep his brain from spiralling into the direction he refuses to acknowledge.

Your hand is a perfect fit in his, like it was made to be there.

You hold hands like that the entire time you’re doing homework.

It's quiet and incredibly awkward at first, but soon you and Bakugou learn to ignore it, and soon conversations start up again with a lot more life than before.

You remember that day vividly. The hand holding, the constant contact, the innocence behind it because Bakugou never overstepped boundaries with you. He needed the contact just as much as you did, and instead of getting all handsy, he opted for the most innocent form of touch.

You remember falling asleep on the couch with his hand in yours long before your classmates arrive home. It was the evening, and you both are drained from every goddamn eventful thing that happened so far over the month of April. Cherry blossoms symbolise change, and oh, boy, did it symbolise how far gone you were when it came to your crush on the blond Boom Boom Man.

His birthday was coming up, and you still hadn’t planned out your gift for him. You glare at your phone as you and Bakugou sit there in a somewhat comfortable position, with his arm resting on the couch and your hand lying on his. You can feel your eyelids start to close, and with how exhausted you were, you manage to drift off with success.

Bakugou glances over at you and sighs, tugging your phone away from your face and placing his away too. Just watching you snore peacefully is enough to get him yawning too. He lays down on his arm, head resting on the couch near your face. Fuck if he cares if his neck hurts tomorrow morning.

All that he could focus on now was how comfortingly warm your hand was, and how he wished that he didn’t need a Quirk accident to grasp it for the first time. He’d need to man up someday to spit out his feelings to you.

for the first time. He’d need to man up someday to spit out his feelings to you.

That day just…wasn’t today.

--

When you wake up the next day, it’s to half the fucking class gaping at you in unhinged surprise.

Bakugou and you have a lot of explaining to do.

[arliedraws]

Hi! I hope you don’t mind me sending you this ask, I saw you answered some others and there is something that I wonder about but have never really seen anyone talk about?

There’s this theory that the Dursleys come off as worse than they actually are because they have to take Harry and he’s a horcrux, and we see with the locket that horcruxes can bring out the worst in the people carrying it. This lessens immediately when it’s taken off, even if it’s still close, so it’s probably a thing of possessing it or having responsibility for it.

This has also been brought up in regards to Kreacher, who’s also not too pleasant when we meet him, but then again, he also sort of carries responsibility for the horcrux at that time, considering Regulus ordered him to destroy it.

But the horcrux is in Grimmauld Place all that time, and technically, Sirius owns it, and is probably the one who spends the most time in its vicinity (except for maybe Kreacher) because he can’t leave the house. This period is also the period we (as readers) see Sirius at his worst.

Of course there is more than enough reason and then some for Sirius to get depressed in that place/time, but I thought it was really interesting because fans give some leniency to the Dursleys and Kreacher for their behaviour with the theory that it was influenced by the Horcrux, but that same leniency is not extended towards Sirius.

So, I’m personally not sure if I think being the owner of and close to a horcrux (and perhaps even two when Harry’s there as well; although he of course doesn’t ‘possess’ Harry or have (legal) responsibility for him at that moment unlike the Dursleys, and we never see a negative effect on Ron, Hermione or any of the Weasleys due to contact with Harry either) really made things worse for Sirius seeing as they were bad enough by themselves, but I was wondering what you thought? Do you think Kreacher/the Dursleys are affected by their respective horcrux, and do you think Sirius could be as well. And if yes, do you think there would be a negative effect if in theory Sirius got custody over Harry instead of the Dursleys?

Sorry, this turned out a bit longer than anticipated!

Always bother me with this stuff! Haha, I love thinking about theories.

I’ve heard this theory before, but I’m afraid I don’t find it particularly interesting. This theory does not illuminate the most salient themes of the series nor does it explain characterization in a compelling way. The truth is, Petunia was always a judgmental, selfish person and she married a judgmental, selfish person. The Dursleys were always terrible! And like you said, Harry’s other friends don’t seem to have anything but normal conflicts with Harry. Fans want to forgive people for their terrible actions (and not Sirius? why do people hate him?)—but my question is: why?

Characters, in general, need to atone for actions if they are to be “redeemed” (which is…not even necessary most of the time, tbh). Giving them an out by saying “Ah well, they can’t be blamed—they were under the influence of Dark Magic!” is so boring. What are we learning as an reader? What is the message here? I don’t want characters to be saved—I want them to save themselves! It’s so much more compelling and satisfying.

If Kreacher was under any influence, it was the pure-blood supremacy rhetoric of the Black family. He was devoted to Mrs. Black—he parroted her beliefs and values, and it was deeply offensive to him that Sirius would insult the family like he did. The Dursleys, likewise, are just unpleasant, bigoted people. No, I think the only way for the Horcrux to have an effect is to have physical contact—this is demonstrated when Hermione pleads with Ron to take off the locket, and when Harry expresses his relief when he takes it off and feels normal again.

Now, I’ll tell you what might be interesting (devastating) would be to see Sirius wearing the locket in DH because he insists on taking the burden himself instead of the kids. Maybe Harry would argue, but the longer Sirius has it on, the more he sinks into this sort of toxic “I must sacrifice myself you dumb child” sort of thinking. I’d be interested to see how it would really bring out the absolute worst in him because I think if he were REALLY under the influence of a Horcrux, he could be quite cruel if he weren’t careful. Granted, I think Sirius is very aware of his own actions, so maybe he would keep those cruel thoughts to himself, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have them.

Ooooh, someone write a fic now where Sirius insists on carrying the locket and really has to fight off the darkness…

Anyway, thank you for the ask!

[sortagaysortahigh]

Please like the way that this fantasy AU is causing me brainrot like i must share some of the other ideas i had!!!!

Eddie is the human prince (who only truly wants to be a music-loving sailor) that has fallen in love with the elven princess after a grand total of 1 conversation.

He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t feel drawn to the cloaked woman, perhaps it was her almost-magnetic presence, or maybe it was the glow of her rings, rings that were rumored to drive those who could not live to their potential mad, or maybe, just maybe it was the sound of her laughter, it reminded him of a soft melody, only growing in volume as she chatted with the half-elf barmaid, a woman who’d been running the tavern with her father for longer than Eddie had been alive. It was clear to him that they weren’t speaking in the common tongue, and as he did his best to get closer without giving himself away he was positive that they were speaking a dialect of elvish, and of course, the prince of such a large region would hold some knowledge on other languages and even speak some.

Which is how he found himself eavesdropping on their conversation about the cloaked woman’s travels.

It wasn’t until she’d laughed again, and said something along the lines of “Don’t you just hate it when people choose to stick their nose in places they do not belong?” To the barmaid that Eddie realized the woman was well aware of his presence. Of course she had to have been, she wielded magic and a few of her rings probably held enchantments that allowed her to be incredibly hyper-aware of her surroundings. He sat at the table that was behind and to the right of the woman, placing himself in perfect ear-shot, even through the boisterous commotion of the tavern. It also left him in the perfect spot to be caught like a fish out of water.

The woman turned in her stool, the iridescent glow of her eyes gave away her elven race in seconds as she allowed her cloak to slide back the smallest amount-it was still covering her head-to allow for her fake to peak out more. The both of them held eye contact, she wasted no time in sizing him up, eyes trailing his figure once, then twice, assessing if he was a threat, or if he was just any regular townsfolk. But she knew he was neither, especially as she examined what she could see of his clothes, the loose-fitted beige shirt was something that many sailor wore, however the shiny silver chain tucked into it was a different story. Many sailors opted to wear gold, especially those affiliated with pirates or mercenaries. It was rare to witness a sailor in silver-especially silver that was as clean as his.

Not to mention how clean he was. It was mid-afternoon so the Tavern was well lit, and from what she could see there wasn’t much muck, grease, or dirt adorning his skin. Not to say that sailors were unclean-but typically those who spent the majority of their lives at sea had a very specific physical appearance, and this man did not fit a single one of those characteristics.

So the princess moved from her seat at the bar to the seat across from him, she was curious about who he was, and what it was that he found so interesting about her. There were easier ways to find all of that out, a few drags of her fingers alongside a word or two in arcana would allow her to gaze into his mind-but truth be told she didn’t enjoy using magic that way. Magic was sacred, and there was a time and a place that deemed it necessary.

“And who might you be?” He simply shrugged, now getting a better look at her, watching as she relaxed her shoulders slightly while placing both of her hands on the wooden table, fingers interlaced and still, outside of one of her index fingers tapping along the top of her opposite hand. He did his best to seem casual, like any other tavern go-er, but his attempts to be casual were short lived when she caught a glance of the pendant hanging along his chain. He immediately froze as she reached across the table, fingers now grazing the silver before slowly dragging it out of it’s confines.

“Ah I understand now, you’re the prince attempting to escape from your duties. I can only assume that of you, but wouldn’t it be smarter to not wear any of your house’s medallions, especially a silver chain adorning the house crest. I’d also recommend working on your disguise, commoners may not see through it, but you have many tells.” He opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling like a fish out of water, as if he had been exposed to the world in a matter of seconds. He half-expected her to give him away, or even lecture him on the responsibilities of any high-ranking royal. The regality of her voice let him know that they were of similar status, and as most high ranking nobles did, she too would probably tell him to give up on his fantasies about being a sailor, an adventurer, or truly leaving the city.

But she didn’t. Instead she laughed at his reaction before sitting back down, extending a hand to him, waiting for him to shake it.

“It is only right that I let you in on my attempts of escape as well.” She told him her name before nodding a few times “Princess of Silvermoon, daughter of King Haldir, but the use of a title is unnecessary here, considering we’re in the same boat”.

It all made sense to Eddie, he’d snuck out of the keep after his mother sent news that the High Elves of Silvermoon would be making their arrival today, and with them, a potential match for him. Historically it wasn’t uncommon for Elves and Humans of high-ranking status to wed, especially under the pretense of political alliances and unification under the threats of potential war. But that didn’t make accepting his possible arranged marriage and betrothal any easier. In fact it made it harder, knowing that he was expected to sire an Heir to his throne, while uniting two nations that have their own histories of conflict, plus up until today, no one past the lands surrounding Silvermoon had seen the Princess.

As superficial as it was, he didn’t want to be wed to someone he found unattractive, or even unappealing, especially when Elves were known to be very posh, judgmental, and just plain stuck up.

He blinked a few times before grasping her hand, shaking it over the table while he forced a small smile. “As you’ve assumed, I am the prince, Prince Edward, son of King Wayne the Third. But Honestly, I’d prefer if you called me Eddie, and skipped the formalities. Also, if you’d like to smite me at anytime during this conversation please feel free to do so”

There it was again, that laugh, except this time it was a little louder and she pulled her hand away from his gently to adjust her cloak because the moment she started laughing at him, it started sliding back again, revealing a peak of the deep black hair that her family was known for. They were unmistakeable, many elves had lightly colored hair, or even sunkissed blonde tones of hair, however her family was known for the deep black hair, it was said to be so black that it had hues of blue to it. The rumour had always been that their ancestors were the first to dabble in the mix of divine and arcane magic, using gifts from the Gods in combination with elements of the earth to create something almost untouchable that threatened the existence of divine magic. So in turn, they were marked with hair as dark as night, hair that would be used to alienate them from the other High Elves, however it only made her family stronger, and the power they possessed is what pushed them to where they were now.

“Unfortunately for the both us, I cannot smite you Eddie, if possible, I’d put us both out of our misery. I hear we’re to be married? A Prince who I can only assume yearns for the sea and the freedom it brings, and a Princess who’d rather speak to the city rats than to anyone considered close to noble. God they’re all so pretentious, and of course I know that my people are known to be pretentious, but oh Gods, they’re such asses!” she raised her brows while he let out a small laugh, doing his best to keep up a ‘relaxed’ appearance, when in reality, the more she spoke, the more he wanted to ask her a million questions about herself and follow her to the ends of the earth.

And he hadn’t even seen her without her cloak on yet.

[mumucow]

7. “Let me do this for you, okay?”

This took me way too long because life being life and then trailer dropped and all the lives and we are going insane because of it.

Also this is a bit of an early birthday gift to @ty-in-bedlam

Honestly I don’t feel like it’s my favorite writing but I don’t think any of these will steal the place of the first one from my heart, so here is the link.

Warning this is almost 5k

I hope you have fun.

Buck had been agitated all through their shift, making it seem longer than it actually was.

Buck was Eddie’s partner and if he wasn’t okay then Eddie wasn’t either, their partnership had always been like that. They were always in sync with each other but this shift was different. Buck was quiet, which in itself was weird, he couldn’t keep his hands still more than usual.

The rest of the team had noticed it too and they all did what they could to help their friend. They were a family.

Every time that Buck was touched by one of them, he would relax into the touch as if it was grounding him, bringing him back to earth.

Eddie was reaching out more than usual, letting their fingers linger and touch for longer than necessary when delivering a cup of coffee.

They all knew what was going on. Even Chimney was agitated.

The Buckley parents were in town.

Thankfully the B shift was arriving and everyone was finishing their things before heading for the locker room, except for Buck.

He was still sitting at the wooden table, staring at his hand. Eddie came closer, he let his fingers touch Buck’s shoulder first so he was aware of someone touching him and then Eddie set his whole hand there.

Buck didn’t flinch or tried to move away. They always seemed to be aware of each other all the time, not even being surprised when there was contact between them. 

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“I need to go home and change before…” Buck looked almost devastated at the thought of having to go. There was something Eddie hadn’t told him yet.

“And you are going to do that. I’m pretty sure I have some of your clothes at the house.”

“I don’t think that my parents would approve if I showed up with a hoodie.” Buck sighed throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Fine, but show up after it, I think a boost of Christopher will do wonders for you,” Eddie smirked as he saw a small but genuine smile trying to show up on Buck’s lips at the mention of Christopher. “Besides I need a ride.”

Like that Eddie dropped the bomb.

“What?” Buck stared at him in confusion.

“I’m going to this dinner with you. I told you years ago that I had your back. I wasn’t there last time but I will be now.” Eddie had gotten a call from Maddie suggesting it, a way to help Buck be at ease with this dinner. Eddie couldn’t even promise that he would behave around the Buckley parents.

“Eddie…” Buck’s tone was something so intimate, something just for them and it felt off that the B shift was around for this. 

“Go and you know where to find me. I even bought wine.” Before leaving his friend, Eddie squeezed Buck’s shoulder which got him a shy smile from him.

It was a win.

Eddie noticed the look he got from his best friend when he opened the front door, the glance making him blush a little, he might hate the Buckley parents but Eddie still wanted to look presentable and like he belonged next to Buck.

“Don’t.” Eddie warned but got a smirk in return.

“And you were trying to convince me to just go wearing a hoodie?” Buck stepped inside the house barely leaving any space between them. 

He was wearing one of his most formal button-ups, Eddie probably only saw him wear it once before. Even if Buck looked great, he still looked uncomfortable. The difference was stunning between Buck wearing something like this and a hoodie. Around the house when Buck was in his most comfortable clothes he seemed to feel happier, more comfortable, and young, because deep down Buck was still that young guy that Eddie met. Same hopeful and open-hearted person, that slowly was learning from his own mistakes. That slowly had fit next to Eddie so easily and into his life. A partner like he never had before.

“Just go see your best friend.” Eddie deflected. He was pretty sure that Buck wasn’t going to forget this talk and just put it away for later.

Buck moved easily around the house to find Christopher and the laughter filling the house was also filling Eddie’s heart with joy and pride. He could give this to Buck, for as long as the other wanted it.

Eddie busied himself with a few simple chores around the house. Buck wasn’t the only one that was nervous about this dinner, they were all a bit on edge with it even people who weren’t going to be there.

Their closest friend knew what the Buckley siblings had gone through with their parents.

Eddie leaned against the door frame as he watched Buck and Christopher interact, with Buck making or trying to make some dinosaur sounds while having around a t-rex toy. It’s been a while since Chris had used it but it was enough to make the both of them laugh. Eddie grinned, bottling up this moment inside his heart, how they look so happy and carefree.

Knocking on the door Eddie got their attention.

“It’s time to go boys.” They both pouted, making them look like father and son. Eddie understood why so many people confused Buck as Chris’ dad. Which deep down he was.

He could see Buck’s posture change right away, hopefully, Eddie could help him out during dinner.

They dropped off Chris at Hen, Eddie had already talked to her and Karen about Chris staying over since they didn’t know how everything was going to go. Buck even got one of Chris’ tight hugs for good luck, which led to Buck quickly pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes to push his tears away.

The ride to Chimney and Maddie’s new house was quiet, Buck parked his Jeep outside but didn’t move from his seat.

“Take as long as you want.” Eddie tried to help his best friend relax, he almost reached for Buck’s hand.

“They won’t wait forever,” Buck said with a sad chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m bringing you to this.”

“You aren’t. Your sister did.”  Eddie took a deep breath. “When they came back to LA that first time I wanted to be there for you.”

“Yeah, I remember how well that dinner went.” Buck sighed letting his head rest against the headrest and closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t bring you into this mess.”

“Let me do this for you, okay? You stepped with me into my mess before.” Eddie remembered how much it meant when Buck found him on his bedroom floor, how it felt like a rescuing rope. Blue eyes stared at him, Eddie knew that Buck would do it all over again. “I am gonna do the same for you. Just like you deserve.”

“Eddie…” There was so much vulnerability in just a simple word.

“You can’t keep hiding your parents from me. You have met mine and you know Tia Pepa and Abuela.” Eddie tried his best to lighten up the mood and he was able to get a soft smile from Buck at the mention of his closest family.

Both Abuela and Pepa loved Buck with all their heart and Eddie really couldn’t judge them because he loved his best friend more than he should.

They got out of the Jeep and headed to the door, Eddie rested his hand on Buck’s lower back to encourage him, to assure him that he was right there by his side.

Maddie was the one opening the door for them, quickly pulling Buck into a tight hug and whispering something in his ear. Eddie admired their relationship, and how close they were even with everything that was thrown at them. How they leaned on each other to survive the madness of their childhood.

They could hear Jee fussing inside the house, so they all follow the sound to find her in Margaret’s arms trying to get free. Maddie quickly rescued her daughter, looking as apologetic as she could, which in Eddie’s opinion it was more than Margaret deserved.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t do well with strangers.” Jee was already hiding herself in Maddie’s arms.

“Evan.” It was the first word coming out of Margaret’s mouth toward them, it sounded as cold as her eyes looked. Their blue had nothing to do with Buck’s. 

Eddie loved Buck’s first name, the truth was that, but he knew how Buck felt toward the name and now he could see why. It didn’t only feel cold but also tainted, toxic like poison spreading through your bloodstream. It wasn’t even directed at Eddie but he could feel all of that.

Her eyes moved from her son to Eddie, like they would threaten him in any way.

“You are?” Phillip stood behind his wife, a small nod shared with his son.

“Eddie Diaz.” Eddie introduced himself not even bothering to offer his hand for a handshake. He looked over at Buck, he looked like a kid that had just messed up even if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Just come by to drop, Evan?” Margaret asked and then looked at her son. “Didn’t you have a car?”

“I do, Eddie is an important part of my life so I think he should be here.” To anyone else, it might sound confident but to people that really knew Buck, it was possible to notice that he was nervous.

“I’m Buck’s partner, I work with both him and Chim- Howard. And Maddie invited me.” Eddie clenched his jaw, trying to keep as expressionless as possible, his shoulder pressing into Buck’s. I got your back.

Before things could escalate any further, Chimney brought the food to the table with a warm and pleased smile as he called everyone for dinner. 

A really long dinner ahead of them.

It started quiet and Eddie could feel Buck relaxing a bit at his side, especially when interacting with Jee, it was adorable to see and Eddie couldn’t keep the smile off his face while watching.

“I always forget how good you are with kids.” The table went quiet with Margaret’s comment, it almost sounded nice. “When are you giving me grandchildren, Evan?”

And it was gone just like that, all the little good mood that was starting to settle.

Eddie felt his best friend tense up again, it had only been a few minutes of quietness, instantly he reached under the table and settle his hand on Buck’s leg - right above his knee. In hope that it would help in any way but also to keep Eddie himself from saying something.

“I clearly didn’t get it from you.” Buck stated, before turning back his attention to Jee. Eddie couldn’t help but smirk, Chimney had a funny face on like he had just imagined that, and Maddie looked resigned that this dinner was about to go to hell.

“Evan.” It was a warning.

“It’s not a lie, I don’t remember you or dad ever playing with me.” Buck had tried, Eddie had seen it.

He had tried to give his parents an opportunity and they didn’t take it, most of Buck’s life had been him giving them chances and they never once cared to grab it.

“You know why.” This time it was Phillip, he almost looked like a puppet in Margaret’s hands.

“I know for what? Two years? Nothing changed, so you don’t get to ask me about my life. I came because I love my sister.” Buck stopped to look at Maddie and give her a soft smile before turning his expression back to blank and turning to his parents. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

It was shivering to see Buck act this cold, it was nothing like him. Buck was always gentle and soft unless you hurt his family, he wears his heart on his sleeve and gives opportunities, but now Buck seemed done with his parents.

“We are not going to have this conversation with…strangers.” Margaret looked between Buck and Eddie.

“Eddie is not a stranger. Hell, he is an amazing father and one that I hoped I had, one that I hope that I can be.” It wasn’t the first time that Buck has even complimented Eddie about him being a good dad to Chris, but this time it felt so much more charged.

Maybe it was because Buck had slipped his own hand under the table and found Eddie’s, holding it like a lifeline. Eddie intertwined their fingers and gave it a squeeze. He would always be there for his best friend.

“Evan-”

“Don’t.” It was incredible how Buck sounded calm, even if Eddie knew that inside his head everything was chaotic. “Whenever you come here it's to hurt us. I get it, you lost a kid, but you had two more. Maddie is an amazing mother.” Blue eyes were starting to get glassy with unshed tears, only getting worst when Buck shared a look with his sister. “I know that she will do an amazing job with Jee because she did it with me.”

Eddie saw how Maddie reached for her brother, hand wrapping around the hand he still had resting on top of the table. Even Chimney looked proud of his almost brother-in-law.

“We are your parents!” Margaret raised her voice but seemed to control herself when she noticed that Jee seemed a bit scared at that.

“You are the people that contributed to my DNA. Family doesn’t end with blood and in this case, the family I have here? In LA? Is the one I care about, it's the one who has been there when I needed it. Is the one that loves me for who I am. Last time I asked you to love me anyway, but I deserve more than that. I deserve people that love me despite my flaws, that just love me.”

Eddie had never felt so proud of Buck just like right now, standing up for himself and his chosen family.

“It’s because of him that you are doing this?” It almost felt like the words were sharp knives being thrown at Eddie, and he couldn’t help but snort as he stared challengingly at Margaret. 

“No. He is doing it for himself, because he has crappy parents.” Eddie finally spoke, no longer able to hide his hatred for them. “You really think that everyone else is the problem and not you two?”

“How dare you speak to me like that? You know nothing about this family.”

“I do, and I still get surprised every time with how the two of you were so lucky to have such amazing kids and not love them. I can’t even believe that you are their real parents, Maddie and Buck are nothing like you. They are kind and amazing people ready to help others and I know for sure that Jee-Yun couldn’t have better parents.” Eddie then turned to look at Buck that seemed a bit surprised and in awe at the same time. “I know that Evan is an amazing parent, one that you two can never be, that is why he is the legal guardian for my kid.”

They really haven’t discussed it much after the shooting, it took them a lot of time to even talk a little about the shooting but they definitely hadn’t shared it with anyone else. Buck probably didn’t even tell his sister considering how surprised Maddie looked.

“Is that the kid you keep posting pictures with?” Phillip sounded surprised but not at all at the same time.

Buck seemed torn, probably not wanting to drag Christopher into this.

“That handicapped kid?! You rather choose him than us? Then having a normal life?!” This was escalating quickly by Margaret’s words.

Before Eddie could say anything Buck was already standing up, pushing his hands against the table to make himself look bigger.

“Don’t you dare. That kid is the smartest, kindest, and bravest kid I ever met. I would even say than any person in the world.” Buck let out through grunted teeth. “He saved me when I thought I couldn’t be saved, he fought for me and saved me from myself. He loves me with all his heart and I love him like he was my own. He doesn’t have one flaw that you can point out.”

Eddie couldn’t help but just kept staring at Buck, now his tears freely falling.

“I should be spending my night with him and not with you two.” It was the last thing that Buck said before starting to walk for the door.

“I will take care of him.” Eddie quickly said to Maddie, she gave him a small nod.

Eddie felt a bit bad for leaving his friends to deal with the Buckley parents but Buck needed him more.

When Eddie left the house Buck was already near the Jeep, using it as support to catch his breath not from the walk outside but from everything he just let out of his chest.

“I’m so proud of you, Buck…” Eddie felt himself on the edge too, he hated to see Buck like this especially when he didn’t really know what to do to help more.

“I feel like a piece of shit of a son.” Buck looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

Eddie grimaced at that, he knew exactly how Buck felt even if he was the right one in this situation. He reached out and squeezed Buck’s shoulder gently.

“I know, it’s an ability parents have. To make us feel like shit even when they are the ones who are wrong.” Eddie sighed. “I hope to never make that mistake with Christopher.”

“We both know you won’t.” Buck cleaned his tears away even showing a little smile, standing up a bit straighter now. 

“Let me take the Jeep, I promise to not scratch it.” Eddie teased as he offered his hand, Buck still seemed unsure to give him the keys.

They shifted their usual seats. If Eddie was being honest, it felt weird to be the one driving and especially being the Jeep. Still, it was necessary, Buck looked like he was ready to pass out and sleep for the next few hours.

Eddie drove along the dark roads with Buck at his side either messing with the radio station or just resting his head against the window and stare outside.

“Where are we going?” Buck sounded just as tired as he looked.

“I know you probably just want to sleep all of this away, but I think we need one more thing that we need.” Eddie wanted to reach for Buck’s hand again, try to comfort him as much as possible but they were alone now it was far too different from before.

Eddie could feel Buck looking at him in confusion but all of that went away when he parked the Jeep outside of the Wilson’s household.

“Eddie…you told him he could have a sleepover with Denny.” Buck didn’t move from his spot on the passenger seat.

“You know how much Christopher loves you. He will rather be with us.” Eddie could already see the tears starting to pool in Buck’s eyes. “You don’t have to go inside, you can stay here.”

“No, I will go with you. It will be good to see familiar faces.”

As soon as they got inside the house Buck was taken into Hen’s arms before Karen replaced her wife. Eddie quickly greeted the two women before heading towards Denny’s bedroom, knocking on the door before poking his head inside.

“Hi, boys.”

“Hi.” They said in unison without looking away from their game.

“Wait, have we been playing all night?” Christopher paused their game to stare at his father.

“No.” Eddie tried to offer a reassuring smile but he probably failed at that, his son has always been an observant kid. “The dinner was rough on Buck, he needs a bit of cheering up. I know I said you could stay for a sleepover-”

He was cut off by Chris getting up and starting to pack his things, sometimes Eddie forgot that Buck was his best friend but also Chris’ and that his son would always be there for Buck as well.

“I promise that next time we have a weekend off I will let you boys pick whatever you want.” Eddie knew he would probably regret it later.

As soon as Christopher headed for the living room Buck started to crouch down to take the boy in his arms, lifting him up from the floor. Almost like Chris was a koala hugging a tree. Eddie could see Hen and Karen look at their friend with a soft expression and Eddie couldn’t really judge them since he knew that his face was doing a lot worst.

This time the ride home wasn’t quiet, Chris filled the silence easily by talking about the game he and Denny had been playing. Even with the rough evening that Buck had he still paid attention to every word that Chris said to him.

Finally with the three of them under the same roof, and in their home, Eddie could feel himself relax a bit more. Christopher quickly changed into his pajamas and Buck changed into some more comfortable clothes, like his favorite hoodie. And it felt like should be Eddie’s every night.

They settled on the couch with Christopher using Buck’s side as support instead of the couch, they had some movie in the background, but it was obvious that neither of them was really paying attention to it.

“You could have stayed with Denny.” Buck broke the silence, his words being aimed at Christopher that looked up at him with a frown. 

“No,” Christopher said seriously. Probably as serious as Eddie as ever seen him. “Buck, you are family and when family needs us we are there for them. You need us more.”

Eddie had to fight back at his own tears, Buck looked up at the ceiling to not let Chris see it but it was a last cause.

“Don’t ever change.” Buck said and after he kissed Chris’ curls.

Eddie knew his son was getting too big for all of this attention but he didn’t even flinch or tried to pull away from the gesture. If anything, Christopher buried himself deeper into Buck’s side.

Slowly Eddie let his eyes fall shut for a few seconds, they had a long shift and an exhausting dinner, it was bound to happen. So, when he opened his eyes again he saw that also Chris and Buck had fallen asleep.

Chris was mostly using Buck as a pillow and Buck had fallen asleep with his hand supporting his face, elbow pressed against the back of the couch. There was no way this could be comfortable and even if Eddie didn’t want to move he still did.

Carefully, he picked his son up, it had been so long since he had to do this and it was heartwarming that he could still do it. Christopher was growing so fast that soon Eddie wouldn’t be able to do this anymore.

Eddie tucked his son into his bed before returning to the living room to find Buck already awake, even though it was clear how sleepy he still was, how he was fighting back his desire to close his eyes again.

“Thank you.” Buck was hoarse from his little nap.

“For what?” Eddie sat down next to his best friend, their knees knocking on each other as they sat sideways on the couch so that they would be facing each other.

“For being there with me. For getting Chris to cheer me up. For having my back.”

Buck did look a lot better than before, calmer and less guilty for what had happened.

“You know that I am always here for you.” Eddie should be a lot more stressed out about this than he was, he had come to terms with his feeling towards his best friend and it didn’t scare him as much anymore. He knew a simple choice of words could reveal all that was trapped inside his chest, so close to his heart. “You know how much Christopher loves you, I know he would rather be here than anywhere else.”

“Do you?” Buck asked with a hint of hope and fear at the same time. “Love me?”

They have had this conversation before, but not just the two of them. They all made it clear to their chosen family that they all loved each other even if sometimes they drove each other crazy. They had much more good moments than bad ones. So yes, they had said I love you to each other before but not in this context. Not when it was just the two of them, without any shield to protect them from what really was created between them.

“I do.” Eddie saw Buck’s breathing hitch at the confirmation and after a few seconds, it came out as a breath of relief. 

“You know…after that my parents probably think that we are dating.” Buck was obviously testing the waters, they both knew that at this point Buck really didn’t take his parents' opinion into consideration.

“And they clearly didn’t like it.” Eddie snorted, pressing his knee harder against Buck’s. “Would that be so bad?” 

He didn’t know where all this bravery came from, but Eddie needed to know if this was the moment that would change their relationship from further on.

Buck seemed to be taken by surprise when Eddie dare himself from looking down from their legs to his best friend’s face. This whole conversation had been spinning around the same thing, how Eddie and Buck were always there for each other and they would be there for Chris too. Like a family. Just the three of them.

“Kiss me.”

Eddie wanted to do it so badly, he had to stop himself from reaching out to Buck and just give in to his request.

Buck’s face started to crumble into an expression of regret with how long Eddie was taking to answer him or really do anything.

“I want to. But not tonight. I don’t want this to happen due to your shitty parents.” Eddie couldn’t really hide his dislike for them. “So, I promise. We have all the time in the world”

And as if to seal his promise Eddie reaches out, gently resting his hand on Buck’s neck. With his thumb, he caressed his best friend’s jaw and he watched as Buck leaned into the touch. Then, Eddie pressed his lips against Buck’s forehead, he stood there longer than necessary before pulling away to get up.

“Get some sleep.” Eddie wanted to bring Buck with him to bed, and reassure him that everything would be fine. They just needed a little more time to get there.

It took Eddie longer than he planned. It had been a full week since the dinner with Buckley's parents and between shifts and everything else he and Buck really hadn’t had much time alone. Everyone was there for Buck, to make sure that he was okay after they heard what had happened. 

At first, Buck had a hard time facing him but it only lasted about one day before they had gone back to their usual BuckandEddie thing, their looks would be caught on each other for longer and so would their touches, they didn’t look away anymore when the other caught them staring. They were slowly getting there.

It took them a trip to the grocery store for Eddie to finally take that final step. They had just come off their shift and were getting some things so they wouldn’t need to leave the house on their day off.

Buck was looking at him with two different types of cheese and asking which one Eddie wanted. Before Eddie could think much about it he closed any distance between them, his hands on each side of Buck’s face and if it was any other time Buck’s comical face would make Eddie laugh, but instead, he just kissed his best friend in the middle of the grocery store.

For a second there Eddie really thought that it had screwed up badly until Buck dropped everything in his hands to kiss him back, like kissing Eddie was the air that Buck needed to breathe.

“What was that for?” Buck was confused and Eddie couldn’t blame him since he didn’t give the other any warning.

“For you just being you.” Eddie really had no other reason, well that and the fact that he loved Buck as he had never loved any other partner. “I think we have waited long enough, I think we are on the right time.”

“I agree.” Buck smiled widely, those fucking sunshine smiles that Eddie loved so much, he could bet that all the warmth he was feeling inside of him was because of the smile that Buck was offering him. 

Buck pecked his lips before going back to the cheese picking struggle.

“Babe, just take both.” Eddie found himself saying and the way that Buck lit up at the nickname made Eddie want to say it again.

“I don’t think I will get used to that.” Buck confessed like it was their secret.

“To what? To me calling you that?”

“To that, to kissing you and to being loved by you.”

“You were already loved by me before. The rest?” Eddie smirked taking the shopping cart in his hands so they could keep going without everyone staring at them. “We have a lifetime to get used to.”

Eddie wasn’t really a romantic person even with all the telenovelas he watched but with Buck? Buck had every side of him, the good and the bad. And he knew that he had all of Buck too.

[punkscowardschampions]

Sylke, Slaggie, Co'Neill & Sylke again

princemyshkin: [show up sir because now’s a good a time as any even though neither of you are ready for this IRL !!]

ihatemyguts: [oh lads you are not ready, the casual state you’re in that isn’t at all about Sam and her shenanigans at this point tbh, go and open the door to this boy like you have a single clue what you’re going to do next, painfully aware you’ve never been in a one on one like this before]

princemyshkin: [that may be how it started but that’s not how it’s going, this isn’t about you and your bitchery any more hun, we all know it, hence catch him putting his heavy bag down full of homework the second he steps into this gaff because you’ve both gone way beyond caring about that rn as well, stepping to her, close but not !! levels of in her grill, having a look at her to assess how she is because online can only tell you so much and you care, regardless of the reasons why she’s in this state, talking her through (and hopefully not mansplaining this time) some simple breathing exercises to calm you both slightly when you see she’s as !! as you]

ihatemyguts: [a disbelieving ha at the thud this homework creates like oh my god, did you have to get all that but we can’t even get ourself to look away from him to this bag for even a second, truly cannot give it any more thought or attention than that, will be trying to do these breathing exercises though because feels entirely necessary, even if you do another little lol mid breathing out because what is this and what are we doing]

princemyshkin: [this poor boy carrying all that however far tells us everything we need to know, as does the smile he’s doing back at her when she laughs mid these silly but useful breathing exercises cos yeah we feel it too girl even if we’re trying to do our best to be very serious and take it super seriously to help you and also ourselves, the way they are fully having a montage worthy moment here, excuse you lads]

ihatemyguts: [trying to not fully devolve into a full giggling fit about it like not the mood not the moment but also because you appreciate what he is trying to do here for you both and as much as you really want to risk it all right now, you also don’t for him to reject you so any attempt to be calm and not make hasty decisions is a good idea, soz that the way y’all are breathing so hard is inherently sexy and when you can’t ignore that any longer you’re going to have to break eye contact and move away, into your living room moment like okay here we are]

princemyshkin: [mhmm that eye contact was getting so dramatic someone had to break it, follow her into this living room even if you’re still very much focused on her and not the surroundings hence you can’t bring yourself to even glance around at them or anything, all you can do is sit yourself down, love that you’ve left your bag and the pretence of homework behind, shrugging off whatever jacket he’s wearing and leaving it behind him where it falls on the seat because he’s a cool kid like that obvs couldn’t be hanging it up or anything]

ihatemyguts: [turning back to look at him sitting on your sofa like how did this even happen because you don’t know, was not on your bingo card nor was this boy properly on your radar and suddenly boom, here we are, coming to sit beside him like a test, to prove you can and it’s totally normal, likewise resting your head on his shoulder in a platonic way, nothing more, friends do this sort of thing ‘I said I wanted to talk to them but I meant you, specifically’ soz to the group chat but we know it’s the truth and what she was shocked to find herself thinking when this all went down]

princemyshkin: [‘I’m sorry I wasn’t logged in when you did’ putting his arm around her in a platonic but I’m here now kind of way, mhmm nothing to see here, nobody call the police even though he’s bringing her closer to him with it]

ihatemyguts: [doing a one shoulder shrug that likewise puts you further under his arm rather than pushing him away ‘I could message you elsewhere’ because you would obviously have each other on socials at least somewhere, the but that would feel wrong doesn’t need to be said out loud, just here holding his arm gently, the restraint should be applauded]

princemyshkin: [‘I’m even less active’ because he is that bitch who literally only uses his socials to tell people about band shit, said like I’m glad you didn’t only because I might not have seen it because genuinely how he feels in this moment even if though if she had messaged him somewhere else it would’ve felt weird and wrong to him too and he’d have been a dick about it probably]

ihatemyguts: [‘selling yourself as a friend’ like lol, so useful if I can never get hold of you, shaking your head as a way to cover your face partially with your hair because this is vulnerable even if it feels right in this moment]

princemyshkin: [‘I’m better at it in person’ because again he’s that bitch who’s having deep and meaningfuls at parties and stuff making that person/those people feel like they’re the only one in the room and nothing else is going on or could be more important than this chat, reaching and moving the hair out of her face ‘but I get why you’re struggling to see that right now’ with a smile like lol cos you literally couldn’t see]

ihatemyguts: [shaking some back like hey but nowhere near as much hair falls and is thus not really covering your face this time ‘I bet’ in a slightly accusatory but in a joking way tone because we know you use your charm on people and that is what we’re not wanting to fall victim to ourself]

princemyshkin: [doing the same kind of shrug that she did so that she’s snuggled more into him, her head landing more on his chest than his shoulder, rubbing her back with the arm that was around her before, we can pretend this is all just him proving what a good friend he is but like]

ihatemyguts: [here pressing your face into his chest and doing the kind of breathing you were meant to be doing a second ago, no shame in the fact that you need this because you’re probably hoping and praying your parents don’t find out about today via someone in the fam being well-intentioned but telling your business when you don’t want anyone to know because they’ll only pity you, here cuddling this boy at this point because your arms will be getting squashed unless you put them around his middle]

princemyshkin: [soz if it’s because of Mags having words with and potentially smacking Sam and her being a snitch about it cos she’d never tell your business like that she’d just say that Sam was talking shit about her because I’m sure this girl was she rocked up like oi, but Ali will know because she knows things and then tomeena are gonna know, but ANYWAY, this boy doing his own big breath because calming down knowing she’s calmer, readjusting so she’s comfy and they are fully snuggling, like you can’t tell me he isn’t pulling her feet up too so she can tuck them under her or put them on him, as if this is nbd and they aren’t having a massive moment] 

ihatemyguts: [honestly it could be that or it could be one of your siblings not realising it’s on the down low and making a throwaway comment, we know they’ll find out but the point is we ain’t telling you parentals and we just wanna spend time with this boy about it, sorry, catch us here on this sofa snuggling like we’ve known you like this forever but also we’re still so !! because we have not, reaching up to touch his hair like you need to get it out of his way and you’re not just doing it]

princemyshkin: [the way he’s looking at her when she touches his hair being a LOOK so I’m gonna be mean and say one of her dogs comes pootling through into this living room after waking up from a snooze, sees them on the sofa like this and jumps on them to join the snugg, it’s even more hilarious if it’s the big one so I’m gonna say it is, so this boy is shook at first but then he’s loling and fussing this dog which brings the other one so then that one jumps up too to get involved and get fuss too]

ihatemyguts: [my boo says Billy, Michael, get in here now and she’s so real for that, the way you’re lowkey giving these dogs side eye about this but you can’t be that salty about it because he’s laughing and that makes you laugh about it too, untangling yourself to leave this boy to it but before you’re getting off the sofa ‘you still want to go tomorrow?’ as you’re fussing one of these dogs, so casual, won’t be gutted if you say no, mhmm]

princemyshkin: [I had to do it, couldn’t resist, for me it’s the way that as soon as she moves his full attention is back on her in such a subtle but !! where do you think you are going way like she’s just gonna leave you here forever alone ‘they haven’t put me off’ said about these dogs but fully to her, looking at her and everything as if they’re alone like they were before, not a LOOK though thankfully haha]

ihatemyguts: [doing such an offended face on behalf of your dogs like yeah they better not have lol ‘just because they’re not good guard dogs’ because where were you lads, love the laziness, this girl smiling to herself though because she also wants to skip school and go puppy window shop, obviously, looking back at him and pausing ‘are you sure I can’t get you anything?’]

princemyshkin: [‘Or they are, but they sensed they weren’t needed’ not him saying you need me not them and also they could tell you’re safe with me and sensed my good vibes, oh Jake never change ‘Can you get me a [and then proceeds to say the most ridiculously specific and pretentious thing she won’t have in the fridge casually ever, in vibe of like a weird flavour of sparkling water or something, you know what I’m saying]’ love that you’re just assuming she has this because you’re so used to your friends and fam catering to your whims]

ihatemyguts: [raising your brows like oh really but not commenting to refute it because you’ve already said you need him so you cannot and will not, still, you can shake your head and laugh at this request ‘um, no, I don’t think I can, sorry’ getting up and heading to the kitchen like let me see what I can actually offer you boy, shouting out the normal options and throwing in some snacks too like if you want]

princemyshkin: [him shouting back asking her what herbal teas she has, not at all as a pisstake and totally seriously, god he’s annoying lol, no notes]

ihatemyguts: [thank god your mother is kinda a health queen energy so you will have some to offer/make for this fussy boy]

princemyshkin: [like, we get it, it wouldn’t be good for you to be a black coffee edgelord like you used to and you’re trying to keep calm but still, ugh, catch him redeeming himself slightly by being cute and coming into the kitchen to keep her company while she makes this because some herbal teas you have to brew for 40 years]

ihatemyguts: [‘and parents love you?’ like we no longer believe you with your picky ways but it is in jest we’re not fuming about this behaviour or anything, nudging into him as we put these mugs down on the side to brew]

princemyshkin: [‘yeah’ with the total confidence of knowing everyone but China’s mum does lol, coming over and spinning her round to face him in like a excuse you if you have something to say then say it to my face playful manner]

ihatemyguts: [putting your arms around his neck like oh yeah faux confrontational vibes right back, swaying slightly ‘what’s [the thing he asked for first] anyway?’ like oh you]

princemyshkin: [when I just know in my heart and soul that you’re going on about this beverage in such a pretentious way like celebs do their alcohol but ALL his attention is on her and everything she’s doing and that cannot be overstated]

ihatemyguts: [nodding overzealously and making listening noises all in a show of how much you aren’t listening, smirking at him and touching his hair again ‘we could be doing homework right now’ implying it would be more interesting and it’s saying something]

princemyshkin: [‘Cool, I’ll go find it’ as if he’s actually calling her bluff and gonna go get it and do homework but he hasn’t moved he’s just lowkey picked her up and moved her slightly to the side as if to get past purely to do it because they just need to touch so much rn]

ihatemyguts: [making a noise that is meant to be like a oh! how rude but with the force of also being lifted it accidentally sounds like way more of a THING, giving him a little shove in his shoulder, again, purely to touch, we all see you]

princemyshkin: [like I imagine it’s a cute playful thing he does with his mum and sister when they are being annoying like go away because he’s the only boy so he was expecting it to give entirely platonic energy but it did NOT and they both feel it, making a noise back at this shoulder shove that’s meant to be like don’t I’m a pacifist vibes but it’s likewise giving !! and his breathing is back to being more extra than it needs for lifting this gal up for a second, she wouldn’t be heavy]

ihatemyguts: [instinctively pushing the other shoulder you neglected last time, equally as gently but you’re absolutely testing what he will do, whether you realise that or not]

princemyshkin: [the way I just KNOW that’ll make him lean in as instinctively in a way that’s absolutely giving about to kiss, so the dilemma is, should we let them or not? Winola gay cast your vote because I could make a case for doing it and one for him stopping himself or one him doing it and stopping himself mid]

ihatemyguts: [Win is saying that doing it and stopping mid is the realest because who is stopping you right now from doing it at all, no one but it gives the drama too because the way you’re gonna have to bounce]

princemyshkin: [Okay so, leaning in, LOOKING at her for what feels like a thousand years, leaning in more and then he’s kissing her but just when she starts really kissing back he pulls away and stops it and he’s all the ‘I can’t’ cliche, having barely moved back but then moving back so !! after he’s said it like gotta listen to myself]

ihatemyguts: [the sheer shock is keeping you from running out this room clearly, the way she’s looking at him like seriously? Because we all knew where this was headed but you can’t voice that or say anything, doing your own steps back with your hands up like okay ‘thanks for the homework’ saying this so fast because nothing else is allowed to come out but you’ve got to keep it together]

princemyshkin: [when you can’t even see her sass because you’ve gone full head in your hands about this like wtf did I just do because he stopped it when he was getting into it and how into it you were is not something you know what to do with rn ‘I’ll see you around’ because it’s the him and China breakup line which he probably used with Libi as well, that coming out as fast and as on autopilot, he doesn’t even mean it but he’s just gotta go, the way I know he’s gonna leave that whole ass bag behind, thank god you’d have your phone and keys in your pockets boy because not a thought for any of your stuff]

ihatemyguts: [when you’re just gesturing to the kitchen door and not moving so you’re not going to know he’s left all this shit until he’s well away because you cannot move, too stunned to speak, casually, like you probably made an attempt to look up and down your street but he was so far gone by that point so now you have to take his things to your room like you want to see them rn]

princemyshkin: [soz girl, I hate it but it’s too real, and now you’re gonna have to organise getting all his shit back to him what a kerfuffle, at least Mags would do it for you so you don’t have to]

ihatemyguts: [oh the shame of it all, delicious drama is afoot baby, why you got his stuff hmm, casually hold it hostage so you don’t have to tell her what you did lol]

princemyshkin: [China like umm babe where is your entire school bag and everything you own except your phone and keys?]

ihatemyguts: [his jacket too honey, that he thottily took off]

princemyshkin: [OMG I totally forgot his jacket, sir throw your shoes and phone and pretend you got mugged tbh but he won’t]

Sylvie: I have done something catastrophically stupid

Maggie: [When you think it’s a typo and she’s talking about you and Samantha so I’m gonna respond as if]

Maggie: Ah now, weren’t my finest hour, to be sure, but sometimes bullies like her don’t listen to nothing but a slap

Maggie: I did have a word first and she refused to take it as intended, like

Sylvie: What?

Sylvie: I have done something, not you, not that

Maggie: What? Sorry

Maggie: I’ve put my glasses on

Sylvie: Jesus, it’s bad

Maggie: Am I to bike over?

Sylvie: Nope, no, I need to be alone but

Sylvie: It isn’t even like how it looks and thus how he’s thinking about it in his head, that’s the worst fucking bit, I’ve made myself look awful and I didn’t even

Maggie: What’s gone on between you and Jake?

Sylvie: He was only dropping off homework, that’s what it was meant to be

Maggie: But then it turned into… 

Sylvie: but it was, he was flirting before then, before he even said he’d bring it over

Sylvie: he’s going to act like he wasn’t because then I am solely to blame

Maggie: Is he fuck going to act up like anything, you’ve your receipts he talked the talk even if he backed out on walking the walk

Sylvie: Oh my God, he’s going to think I slagged his mrs because I’m in love with him 

Sylvie: I’m not and I didn’t even say anything that wasn’t really a dig at him via her but I can see how it looks now he’s changed his mind

Maggie: That disgrace can think what he wants to

Sylvie: I fucking told him, if you’re going to think this makes me like Sam

Sylvie: don’t let it happen

Sylvie: because I did want to talk to him, not just, whatever, that wasn’t a lie

Maggie: You’re not the liar, hes

Maggie: at your house after the day you’ve had pretending he’s troubling himself to really care, when what he’s round for is

Maggie: and he didn’t even never, in the end

Sylvie: That’s not how it looks, he was there trying to be nice 

Maggie: He was there trying to neck on, til he changed his mind

Maggie: it would’ve been nice for you though, had he not

Sylvie: He bangs on about how he loves her, to anyone who’ll listen

Sylvie: how desperate do I want to seem, my GOD

Maggie: Crimson flag

Maggie: if he loved her he’d not be talking nor looking nor doing, none of

Sylvie: I know they’re not in love, they’re just acting but that I’ve even said anything like that’s coming back to bite me on the arse

Sylvie: Can never look at the boy again, never mind talk to him

Maggie: You’re not to, he’s a messer

Maggie: however sick he’s with whatever he’s got, don’t give him the right to behave this way

Sylvie: He’s left his bag and jacket behind

Sylvie: I can’t have him assuming I’ve made a shrine

Maggie: I’ll be there to grab it once you’ve had your alone time, say when

Sylvie: And you won’t say anything to him?

Sylvie: Just drop it in the nearest bin like a drug deal or whatever

Maggie: It’ll go how you’re after it going, it’s on your behalf

Sylvie: Thank you, Mags

Maggie: Come on, yous

Maggie: say when and no more

Maggie: you’d do the same by me

Sylvie: I’ve made myself look like such a fool

Sylvie: as well as a shitty person

Maggie: Nah, I’m stopping you right there

Maggie: he’s shown himself up

Maggie: the boy knew what he was coming for

Sylvie: Did he though? Maybe I read it all wrong, nothing was said in words as such

Maggie: Let me read it or talk us through it, I know you and I’m not believing that you can’t get signs all of a sudden

Sylvie: I don’t know if I can handle that

Sylvie: I just need to hide and never talk to him again

Maggie: Okay, not the worst plan

Sylvie: Maybe I can send you highlights but just

Sylvie: if he wasn’t flirting stay tactfully silent and that will be brutal enough

Maggie: I already know he was, mammy didn’t raise no fool and that’s either of ours with both of us

Maggie: you ain’t stupid and you deffo ain’t so desperate for Jacob Cohen you’d go for it if he was dead cold on the idea

Sylvie: [send her what is, thank god, blatant flirting]

Maggie: Like I said

Sylvie: Then why did he

Maggie: I think maybe it’s one thing being hard at your keyboard, and another slipping it to someone who’s not your girlfriend

Sylvie: Wonderful

Maggie: We know he don’t love her but he don’t know shite, clearly

Sylvie: I’m so angry at myself

Maggie: Say when too for going [a vibe of in sex education when Eric and Adam were breaking stuff at the junkyard or wherever] 

Sylvie: I’m not leaving this bed the rest of this week, write it off

Maggie: I know what you’ll say, but I’m having mine anyway

Maggie: you could wait, it ain’t gonna long before he catches himself on and up to where you are

Sylvie: He said ‘I’ll see you around’ 

Maggie: And I’d fucking kill him had you not swore us not to

Maggie: but if you like him, if you want to

Maggie: by no means the biggest sin

Sylvie: I don’t know if I like him

Maggie: You’ve time to find the knowing during your week’s lay in

Maggie: and I’ve your back, no matter what

Sylvie: How have you felt, when you’ve liked someone, proper liked them?

Maggie: I’m a cliche, so I am

Maggie: it’s, the best parts of the best time you’ve ever had, but every time you see ‘em

Maggie: When I fancied [a boy she did] it was all the feelings of [a childhood mem that was slay], do you know what I mean?

Sylvie: Yeah, I know what you mean

Sylvie: do you think that’s how she feels about him?

Maggie: Honestly, I’d say she does

Sylvie: Fuck’s sake, alright

Sylvie: how do I fix this?

Maggie: It’s a high same as the rest, some have a good go, others bad

Maggie: you can’t fix what you’ve no broke, he don’t feel it for her

Sylvie: We don’t know that

Maggie: We do, he’s proved it ain’t as deep for him

Sylvie: It wasn’t like I set out to do it

Sylvie: I just wanted him

Maggie: I know, and he wanted you

Sylvie: Not enough, so it doesn’t matter now

Maggie: It could’ve been too much, I don’t know that one, I weren’t there

Sylvie: We wouldn’t be here if that was the case

Maggie: I’m here, my daddy drove himself near mad for the wanting of my mammy, didn’t he?

Maggie: lads are delicate and they tell themselves things we’d never tell ‘em

Sylvie: If I have to wait that many years, I shan’t be, no offence to your existence

Maggie: Shut up, Jake’s not getting himself married to her, you don’t

Sylvie: Alright then I’m really impatient, sue me

Maggie: Then talk to him

Maggie: you said you wanted to fix it, all you’ve a chance of’s his head, bring him round to you

Sylvie: And say what

Sylvie: couldn’t help but notice the way you ran for your life there, I think not, like

Maggie: I can’t puppet yous, he wants you not us

Maggie: you know how it was and how it is, start by he’s a prick and then see

Sylvie: I just froze, again

Maggie: Well yeah, you was in shock, he just stopped

Maggie: lads usually hate to do that

Sylvie: Should I have done something different there?

Maggie: You didn’t want to remind him of Sam, you did right letting him go

Sylvie: I’ll take it

Maggie: I’d have probably kissed him again and be regretting it now

Sylvie: I’ve never wanted anything more

Maggie: Fight for it then, however you need to

Sylvie: Okay

Sylvie: when the thought of him isn’t enough to make my heart thud out my chest

Maggie: Nah, while it still is, if that fades you don’t want him

Sylvie: I hate this, I want to hate him

Maggie: How much easier’s the flipside? It’s feelings so strong they’re tearing you up either way

Sylvie: Too bad your daddy would be horrified if I tried to chat to him, like

Maggie: You’ve me, what do you need him for?

Maggie: I can say ‘enough’ the exact same as he says it, I did to your girl Sammy

Sylvie: I don’t reckon on you telling me ‘enough’ though

Sylvie: why am I even contemplating talking to him again? Entirely your fault, I reckon

Maggie: I’ll take the blame on

Sylvie: Pure embarrassing to say you sounded like him then but you did

Maggie: You almost died, I thought you were off

Maggie: we’ve not properly talked about it but 

Sylvie: I don’t know how yet

Maggie: If you want him you should have him, that’s what I reckon and God can come at me how he likes

Sylvie: Ain’t tempting him to do his worst to me but

Sylvie: I’m not a total pussy, I’ll talk to him

Maggie: Yeah, you will

Sylvie: Give him… how long to calm down?

Maggie: You can’t leave it til [the cool kid event] cos we’re still going

Sylvie: Okay, I’ve got a deadline

Maggie: He’ll be the more in his head the longer you leave it

Maggie: You want him to be aware you’re bothered, about him and what he did wrong, as 2 separate things

Sylvie: And I can explain myself without it sounding like complete bullshit, can’t I

Sylvie: because it isn’t

Maggie: You’ll be grand there, it’s sense

Sylvie: 🤞🤞🤞

Maggie: Trust us

Maggie: and yourself

China: [Okay, the reason he could come straight from school without China being like where are you going and the reason this isn’t in person now he’s run home is because she’d have a part-time job, giving pot washer at a local restaurant after school and weekends vibe, just so we know why]

China: [a bitch at work you’ve talked about before] has burnt themselves, AGAIN 🙄

China: No point in them being here, can never do any proper work

Jake: You’re short staffed then

China: When are we not? And that’s with the cash-in-hand child and illegal immigrant labour… dread to think if we followed the rules

Jake: Are you gonna have to work late?

China: Picking up the slack will probably take an extra hour

China: but there will be ALL the food when your mammy gets back from her shift

Jake: It is our turn and I’ve not started anything

China: Have you been working on [the homework he was mansplaining]?

Jake: I went to take Sylvie hers

China: You’re so sweet

China: and Sam remains a total bitch

Jake: She lives [telling her where purely to be like oh it took me AGES]

China: Did you walk all that way?

Jake: Yeah

Jake: Why waste [however much] on bus fare, that’s [however much it is towards something they’d want like a drink at the pub etc, you know what I’m saying], you know?

China: Totally

China: Was she okay, that must’ve been rough on her

Jake: She’s understandably upset

China: ‘Course

China: At least you could tell her that everyone had her back, absolutely no one finds Sam funny, ever

Jake: But I told her about my boycott idea and she wanted no part in it

Jake: Can you believe that? I thought she’d be happy

China: What did she say?

Jake: She said everyone else in the band would hate her, I tried to explain that if they side with Sam they’re as bad as she is, but she wouldn’t listen

China: I’m sorry she didn’t see your vision, babe

Jake: She thinks I was doing it to point score and you shouldn’t let anyone else be shunned like we all did to you, she, like, used the word shun, actually

China: The Sam thing is different though

Jake: I just needed space when we were broken up, everyone gets that

China: Yeah

Jake: But she’s angry, I can’t hold that against her even if she’s taking it out on the wrong people

China: Right, it’s not about you

Jake: I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to talk to, she doesn’t have that

China: I know, it’s sad

Jake: I really love you

China: Love you too

Jake: When you get back we should go to [somewhere that’s giving their spot/where they met that kind of energy where you clearly haven’t been for a sec because he hasn’t been going out as much in this sick kid era so it’s v out of the blue]

China: It’s going to be really late, remember

Jake: We still should

China: If you really want to

Jake: I do

China: Okay

Jake: We can skip school tomorrow

China: Are you feeling okay, where has this come from?

Jake: What do you mean where has this come from? We used to go there all the time, it’s our spot

China: Yeah but we don’t skip school

Jake: School’s drama right now

China: Isn’t it always?

Jake: It’s a day, we’ll barely miss anything

China: We’re starting [whatever book you’re reading in English because that girl]

Jake: I’ll read [this book] to you

China: I have read it before, I guess

Jake: You work so hard, I think you deserve a break

China: Oh, no I don’t

Jake: Yeah, babe, you’re my hero, you know that

Jake: I could never do everything you do

China: It’s nothing, it’s not like I’m a nurse like your mam or anything

Jake: You could be anything you want, that’s only a pipe dream for most people 

China: I don’t know about that

China: but you’re so nice

Jake: It’s true, I’m not just being nice

China: Says you, rock star

Jake: I don’t know, I’ve been writing something but I’m not sure it’s that good

China: It will be

China: you’ve never written anything bad

Jake: I feel like I’ve lost my edge lately

China: That’s not true

Jake: You’d tell me

China: Of course

Jake: I miss you, it’s making me a downer

China: I’ll be back soon, well, you know, soonish

Jake: Yeah, but it’s too long for me

China: Awh, babe

Jake: You have to work, I get it, but it sucks they need you at the same time I do

China: You’re getting all day tomorrow

Jake: I guess

China: Don’t be upset

Jake: I’m not at you

China: But I don’t want you to be at all

Jake: I’ll be okay, Talia’ll be home at [whatever time, idk her life and schedule]

China: You two can get something to eat

Jake: I’ll save you [something she likes from wherever he’s decided they are going to get food from, his poor sister getting no say in it]

China: 🖤

Jake: But I’ll let you work now, I’m sorry

China: No need to be sorry

China: See you later

Jake: Cool

Sylvie: [messaging him on a normal account because I assume you have to wait for him to be online on the forum and we aren’t doing that, however tempting, plus it makes a point]

Sylvie: Not attempting to cause alarm with the different platform or anything, don’t worry

Sylvie: You left your bag and jacket, sure you’ve noticed by now

Sylvie: I’ve given them to Maggie, my cousin, to give back to you

Jake: You told your cousin about us

Sylvie: Not what I said

Sylvie: but yes, I told her what happened, not that you’re sick and nothing else beyond that

Jake: The cousin who laid into Sam

Sylvie: She’s loyal and I’ve said not to say anything to you, that isn’t why I chose her, if that’s what you’re thinking

Sylvie: I just doubted you’d want to see me, that’s it

Jake: You’ve gone ahead and done it, whatever I think

Sylvie: I’m having a week off, you’d need your things before then

Jake: A week?

Jake: [something important she’ll miss in one of these lessons like a test or a presentation or whatever we know the vibes, like she remotely cares that she’ll miss this on such and such a day]

Sylvie: It’s okay, I’ll talk to the school about it this time, the least they can do is send me what I’ll miss, not that I’m too concerned about that, truthfully

Jake: No, I don’t know why I even mentioned it

Sylvie: Because this is awkward?

Jake: Yeah probably

Sylvie: Look, I get it

Sylvie: I know nothing can happen between us

Jake: It already did happen

Sylvie: You don’t need to tell me it was a mistake on your part, the message has already been received 

Sylvie: and I really did want to talk to you, you believe that, don’t you?

Jake: I don’t know what to believe, this isn’t the person I thought I was

Sylvie: Finding out you have a life-long condition is grounds for an identity crisis, right?

Sylvie: I sure hope it is because I know I’m having one

Jake: There’s no excuse

Sylvie: You stopped yourself

Jake: We still kissed

Sylvie: Yeah

Sylvie: and you came over, with intentions beyond giving me my homework

Sylvie: that’s something to grapple with but you did still walk away so, that counts for something

Jake: China wouldn’t award me any points for it

Sylvie: What do you plan to do?

Jake: Lie, it’s all I can

Sylvie: What do you think the points are for that

Sylvie: It’s your relationship, you don’t need to worry about me telling her

Jake: I’m not, I know you wouldn’t

Sylvie: You know this wasn’t some plot to wreck your life then?

Jake: Yeah

Sylvie: Good, I wouldn’t want you to feel like that, whatever happens

Jake: I’m sorry for how I must’ve made you feel

Jake: I panicked

Sylvie: It hurt, yeah, I won’t lie

Sylvie: but I wouldn’t want you to stay if it’s not what you want

Jake: The problem is, it was what I wanted

Sylvie: But you still want China, that’s why it’s complicated

Jake: I’m not meant to want anyone else, we’re together, she basically lives with me

Sylvie: If it were that easy, everyone would find a person and never look at anyone else again

Sylvie: but it isn’t, you told me that

Jake: I don’t know what to do

Sylvie: You don’t think you could talk to her? 

Jake: And say what?

Sylvie: You could ask, if she’s ever thought about being with someone else, if it’s something she’s open to

Jake: She loves me

Sylvie: I know

Sylvie: I’m not saying it would be a yes, it can’t be if you don’t ask though

Jake: If we start talking about this, how long will it be before we’re onto the subject of my other secret?

Jake: I can’t

Sylvie: Okay

Sylvie: and you still want to be with her?

Jake: Yeah

Jake: no

Jake: I don’t know

Sylvie: Yeah, well

Sylvie: Not mentioning it whilst you work that out is probably the kindest option, you’re right

Jake: I spend every second at home waiting for my mother or sister to say something to her, trying to figure out what I’d need to say to undo it

Sylvie: Don’t take this the wrong way or anything

Sylvie: but her home life, it’s not like, abusive, is it? Just difficult?

Jake: The unsuitable boyfriends vary in how unsuitable they are

Sylvie: Right, I thought that was the vibe, I know her little sister is known to exaggerate, putting it politely

Jake: This one’s borderline, sending her back to live with him isn’t something I want

Sylvie: I understand

Sylvie: but if it ever gets to the point that’s the only reason you guys are together

Sylvie: that’s not fair, on either of you

Jake: None of this is fair on her already

Sylvie: No, not really

Sylvie: you’re in a difficult position

Jake: I put myself in this situation, with you at least

Sylvie: Yeah

Sylvie: we couldn’t know, but still, now

Jake: Have I hurt you too much for us to stay friends?

Sylvie: Hey, who told you we’re friends?

Jake: Then, can we be friends?

Sylvie: Yes

Sylvie: I’m just not sure how good of a friend I can be yet, okay

Jake: I’m not really a good one either

Sylvie: I did have my suspicions 

Jake: But your dogs liked me, that’s a win

Sylvie: I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet my parents and have that win too

Sylvie: though it would have been weird, all things considered

Jake: Maybe another time

Sylvie: I’m glad you don’t think all the things I thought you were going to be thinking about me

Jake: I think about you, but it’s not negatively

Sylvie: You don’t blame me?

Jake: No, I don’t

Sylvie: You’re not the arsehole I thought, credit where credits due

Jake: I can’t blame you either for thinking like that, I guess

Sylvie: I didn’t expect us to be able to talk, honestly, without you saying what you think you need to

Jake: You’re the only person I can talk to honestly, it would suck to lose that

Sylvie: There’s no pressure, no expectations

Jake: I didn’t tell you I needed you to flirt with you, I just do

Sylvie: I need you too

Sylvie: even if we’re not flirting now

Jake: If I had to go back to the group to find someone to talk to, they’d kick me out before any of it helped, there’s too many rules to remember

Sylvie: They were kind of okay, after the Sam stuff, before you came through for me

Sylvie: it isn’t the same though, not close

Jake: You understand my life

Sylvie: To catch a total stranger up, it’s a lot

Sylvie: we know enough about each other’s before to understand the after

Jake: Can we hang at mine, the way we were going to before?

Sylvie: When?

Jake: Tomorrow

Sylvie: I think so

Sylvie: we just have to keep being honest and talk, so nothing gets confused

Jake: Deal

Sylvie: I don’t want to make things harder for you but I don’t want to get hurt either

Jake: I don’t want to hurt you again

Sylvie: I believe you

Jake: I believe you back

Sylvie: Loser

Jake: As a pacifist, I’m ignoring your fighting talk

Sylvie: As a loser 😜

Jake: That’s not you being honest

Sylvie: Is it not?

Jake: Not at all

Sylvie: Doesn’t make me part of the Jake Cohen fan club,  don’t get excited

Jake: You’ll be part of [his band]’s when you hear us play [at the cool kid event]

Sylvie: Maybe

Sylvie: How long is you guys set?

Jake: [tell her, I’d love for you to go up and do one song that’s literally the one about her because that’s the kind of wanky thing he would 100% do, but idk if that’s a thing]

Sylvie: [if there’s lots of peeps like open mic you could potentially, like you got one shot, that’s definitely a thing]

Sylvie: I’ll try not to go to the bathroom when you’re on, like

Jake: That’d be cool of you

Sylvie: I’m intrigued, to see what you can do

Jake: What’s your favourite song by [the band she mentioned seeing that wasn’t his]?

Sylvie: Hmm

Sylvie: [say one that’s kind of obscure but not in a pretentious way just that you clearly know this band and like them so it’s not the most popular]

Sylvie: What about you?

Jake: And why’s it your favourite?

Jake: mine’s [probably like an unreleased demo or song you heard live once because you’re that bitch]

Sylvie: It just makes me feel the most

Sylvie: if you were looking for a more technical answer, sorry but that’s how I pick ‘em, it doesn’t feel like a choice

Jake: I was looking for an honest answer and you gave one

Sylvie: [another band on this scene that we’re fully shading rn] aren’t playing, are they?

Jake: They haven’t played since [a time, giving that it’s v unlikely and they’re probably not a thing]

Sylvie: Thank God

Sylvie: Though I don’t know when I will take my bathroom breaks now, they were my out

Jake: During [a band he’s shading]

Sylvie: Your hot tip? Thanks

Sylvie: I hope Maggie doesn’t like them

Jake: Does she like [some bands we’re comparing this band to] or [some others, not even shadily just genuinely can tell they’re been influenced by/heavily ripped off these certain bands]?

Sylvie: She likes most things, it would be easier to say what she doesn’t

Jake: She can’t like [a band we really don’t], I refuse to believe it

Sylvie: It’s cool, you two aren’t going to be friends

Jake: Not now you told on me

Sylvie: You make it sound petty

Jake: You would’ve made me sound really bad, I don’t think I’ll be winning her over

Sylvie: Why would I do that?

Jake: I’m not saying it’s calculated, I hurt you

Sylvie: I only told her what happened

Jake: Only we have the full story

Sylvie: Yeah

Sylvie: It was humiliating enough, to say you left

Jake: I had to

Sylvie: I know

Jake: It won’t happen again

Sylvie: What part?

Jake: I told you, I panicked

Sylvie: When do you think you panicked?

Jake: When I stopped, and then left

Sylvie: Just checking, that we’re still on the same page

Jake: Are we?

Sylvie: I think so

Jake: Cool

Sylvie: Did you go to school today?

Jake: I couldn’t face it

Sylvie: Don’t blame you

Sylvie: I’m sick of being home alone though, already

Jake: Come ‘round here at [a time tomorrow when it’s safe to]

Sylvie: Sounds like a plan

Sylvie: As long as you don’t throw me out, we should have a more successful hang

Jake: I won’t

Jake: I’ve wanted to talk to you all day

Sylvie: I didn’t want to do it last night, it seemed like it would be too confrontational or just intense of me, I don’t know

Sylvie: but also I did want to, you know?

Jake: Yeah, I know

Jake: I felt that way too

Sylvie: Plus, as your girlfriend basically lives with you, the risk of something being read by the wrong person had to be considered

Sylvie: not going to cross that boundary, even by accident

Jake: You’re right, we should use the forum from now on

Sylvie: Yeah, I only didn’t today because I couldn’t wait for you to be online

Jake: Sorry, she took the day off with me

Sylvie: Why wouldn’t she? I would 

Sylvie: there was no need to take your things hostage, that’s all

Jake: She hates missing school

Sylvie: She’s into all that, huh

Jake: Yeah

Sylvie: Someone has to be

Jake: I used to, not as much as her, but I wasn’t dreading it

Sylvie: That’s a fun new perk just for us

Jake: Some lessons and stuff were kinda cool before, now I can’t pay attention in any of them

Sylvie: It all seems even less relevant and important now

Jake: It is

Sylvie: The made-up value of exams doesn’t touch me now, I’m going to have to force myself to care and for what?

Sylvie: What if I waste all my time learning shit just to pass a class and then drop dead at 18

Jake: I was reading about what you have last night

Jake: You don’t mind, do you?

Sylvie: What do you think then?

Jake: Are you jewish too?

Sylvie: I don’t think so? My mum isn’t really sure who her family are though

Jake: It’s common for people who are, maybe she is

Sylvie: Weird

Sylvie: and unfortunate, for you guys

Sylvie: I’ll tell her, maybe she can do one of those DNA kits

Jake: I never met my dad, I could do one at the same time

Sylvie: Stop trying to bond with my parents

Jake: I’ve got my streak to think of

Sylvie: You’re the worst

Sylvie: Can I ask you though, if you’ve ever cared, about your dad not being around?

Jake: Not really, my mother had both roles covered

Jake: I’d ask him if this is his fault though

Sylvie: Solid opener

Jake: You’re one of my few friends who has a dad full-time, loads don’t at all and some just see them on weekends

Sylvie: Yeah, it isn’t uncommon

Sylvie: some people struggle with it though, I know

Jake: I’m lucky to have the mother I do, I know

Jake: if she was less stable, like China’s, then yeah

Sylvie: I can’t complain either, really

Sylvie: maybe that’s why I’m sick, how else would I have sufficient teen angst

Jake: You said your sister does, or is that since you were sick?

Sylvie: I don’t know why she’s like that

Sylvie: sisters get to be dramatic, I guess

Jake: Mine is

Sylvie: We’ve that in common 

Sylvie: I’m sure she thinks I am too but I’m right she’s wrong so

Jake: She is wrong, you’re not dramatic

Sylvie: I felt it

Jake: You had a right to 

Sylvie: It’s okay, you were equally as uncool

Sylvie: if it had just been me 💀

Jake: I’ve haven’t run from anything since [a childhood moment, maybe like the opening night of a play as a theatre bub kinda thing, that tracks], I don’t

Sylvie: Cute

Sylvie: do you still do all that, school plays and stuff?

Sylvie: will you?

Jake: I got more into music

Sylvie: I could never be friends with a theatre kid

Jake: I better not sign up for [the latest school play] then

Sylvie: Volunteering to spend more time at school is the last thing you want right now

Jake: What are you doing right now?

Sylvie: Trying not to think, which looks a lot like doing nothing

Sylvie: why?

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 3: Jingle Bell Rock

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 12,097

Rating: M. Language, consumption of alcohol, brief allusions to prior relationships.

Summary: With three events to play during trivia night, you and Din are going to find out whether or not you make a good team very quickly. 

Author’s notes:

Listen, I am SO THRILLED you’re all enjoying this as much as I am. I’m having a blast writing this, and I really hope that even though this one’s a little longer, it doesn’t lose anyone in the middle. Christmas Din is fantastic ... and even though Grogu’s not in this chapter, please know he’s happily snoozing under the tree at home while Din goes to trivia night. 

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! You should all know the drill by now.

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

... Check out the masterlist page for three links to the events of the chapter - you don’t have to play along, but they’re fun interactive visual aids! 

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2

You got to the bar fifteen minutes earlier than you’d told Din to be there - not because you wanted to be waiting for him, but because in an attempt to make sure you weren’t going to be late, you’d started getting ready much earlier than necessary. 

It wasn’t a date, and the only place the two of you would be that night was inside of a building with the other teams and random stragglers that were just there to watch - but you’d still taken extra time on your appearance. 

A nice pair of boots went well with a newer pair of jeans, and to combat the temperature - which had dropped significantly overnight, you were wearing a thick cable knit sweater in a dark slate gray. It’s just a winter outfit. It’s nothing special. With one final look in your rearview mirror, you closed your eyes and reached for the door handle, stepping out and onto the concrete of the parking lot. 

There were other people walking in, but none of them paid any attention to you - until you heard your name called out in a deep, rumbling voice. “Hey, wait up!” Stopping in your tracks, you spun around and saw Din hurrying across the parking lot, and wearing the same coat from the previous night, though it was unzipped. And there’s no hat today. 

As he approached, you stared at him, eyes wandering over his face and hair, the chestnut brown locks in a disarray that would have looked unkempt on anyone else. On Din, though, they looked fashionable, almost like he’d done it on purpose. Maybe he did. Maybe - “Sorry, I got here a little early…. Looks like you did, too.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know how busy the parking lot would be.” It rolled off of your tongue smoothly and you congratulated yourself on how nonchalant you sounded as he took his place next to you, the two of you heading for the doorway. “Guess I didn’t have to worry, but…”

“Well now we can order a drink before we start.” He pulled the door open and gestured with one hand for you to step in front of him, and even though it wasn’t necessary, Din placed his hand on your lower back as you passed, the pressure of his fingers light but still there. 

You shivered and then swore under your breath at the contact, gritting your teeth. Get it together. “We can.” Heading for the main open space, where a few extra tables were set up, you pointed at a bulletin board hanging on the wall. “Our assigned table number is on there. Why don’t you find it, and I’ll go grab the first round?” 

“I can do that.” He frowned briefly. “If you want -”

“No. This one’s on me.” Pointing at the bar, you grinned. “I’ll order us something to eat, too. Anything you don’t like?” 

“I’m not picky. But…” He smiled at you, tilting his head to one side. “I love the wings here, if you wanted to share?” 

“Got you. But I meant beer-wise.” He thought for a few seconds and then cleared his throat. 

“No IPAs. I like dark beer, but if there’s something you think I should try, I’ll do it.” You didn’t think he was trying to impress you, instead it seemed like Din was legitimately giving you a chance to order him something that you thought he would enjoy. And I appreciate that. 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He nodded once and turned away from you and toward the board, letting you head for the bar. Sliding in between two of the empty stools, you waved down the bartender - a young girl that you’d never seen before - and then leaned forward to answer her greeting. “Hey. I’m here for the trivia, is it possible to put in a food order here and have it brought to our table?’ 

“Of course.” She grinned, reaching for a tablet. “Open tab or closed, and do you need to see a menu?” 

“Keep it open.” You paused, thinking. “And no. I’m ready to order.” She nodded and you tapped your fingers on the wooden bar top, nodding back. “Can I get an order of the buffalo wings with extra blue cheese and ranch, and then an order of the loaded baked potato dip?” The girl typed quickly, her eyes moving over the screen, and when she looked back up at you, you continued, making a split second decision about the beer you wanted Din to try. “And then two tall Christmas stouts, please.” 

“Sugar rims?” She cocked an eyebrow at you and your affirmative reply was almost immediate. “Ok, let me have your card so I can run it.” You handed it over and then glanced around the bar, trying to see if you could find Din. It didn’t take you long - your eyes landed on him, seated and without his coat, balancing his chin on one hand as he scrolled through his phone. “OK, great. Give me a minute to get your drinks, and -”

“We’re at table …” You squinted. “Eight.” The girl thanked you, adding that to the tablet. She set the device down and then turned away from you, busy with grabbing glasses. It gave you a few seconds to take a deep breath and attempt to relax, but the reprieve was short-lived when you heard someone else say your name. What are you doing here? “Hi, James.” 

Turning your head toward the sound, you forced a small smile, the man sitting three seats away with one other person between you. “Didn’t know if you’d found someone else to partner up with, so I wasn’t sure you’d be here.” 

“I am.” Trying not to scoff - or roll your eyes - you stared at him. “I’ve done this competition every single year since I turned 18, James. I’m not going to change that this year just because I had to switch partners last minute.” 

He stared at you, eyes moving over your face, and for a brief moment, you wondered if you were being too short with him - too rude - and then you remembered the way he’d just assumed that you’d be the one to leave your life behind at the drop of a hat when and if he landed his dream job. No, I’m giving him exactly what he deserves. 

“You know, I’ve wanted to call you.” He leaned forward, frowning. “I thought maybe we could talk about what happened. It’s been a few weeks, so -”

He was interrupted when the bartender brought your drinks back, the woman sliding them across the surface toward you. “Here ya go. Your food order’s in, shouldn’t be too long. You’ll have it before the first round of trivia starts.” Thank you. 

“That sounds great.” Nodding as you wrapped your fingers around the cool glass, you lifted both beers from the counter and then returned your attention to James, deciding to keep things civil. “I’m going to head to my table now.” Swallowing hard, you nodded once. “Have a good night.” 

“It was good to see you.” James blinked, shifting in his seat. “So can we -”

“Goodbye, James.” Cutting him off, you headed back toward your table heart pounding as you moved away from the bar and toward Din. He didn’t stand when you approached, but he did move two coasters from the short stack at the center of the table, setting one down in front of the seat across from his. “So I got you a Christmas stout, Din.” Setting both of them down, took your seat. “They’re really good, and -”

“Hey.” It was only one word, but you heard authority in it, though it wasn’t the kind you were used to. Instead of using it to command your attention, Din’s tone simply reminded you that he was there and aware - and there was definitely a difference. “I saw you talking to your ex up there. You alright?” 

You met his eyes again, lips parted slightly as you thought about making an excuse - and then decided not to. “I’m OK, Din. Thanks for asking. I just…” Sitting down, you shook your head. “I wasn’t expecting to see him, and … it was a shock.” 

“He didn’t throw you off your game, right?” Din nudged you with the tow of one boot as he reached for his beer, pulling the glass and the coaster toward himself. “Because we’re about to spend the next couple hours deep in obscure Christmas trivia, and I need you. If we’re going to win, you’ve got to be good at this.” 

He was trying to distract you and it worked, your mouth snapping shut as you pressed your lips together, picking up your drink, too. “No, I’ve got this, Djarin. A couple sips of this and some food, and it’ll be like he wasn’t even here.” 

“Good.” He murmured the word, nodding. “I’m gonna taste this now.” And he did - lifting the rim of the glass to his lips and tilting it up. You watched as he swallowed a healthy gulp, pulling the glass away and then licking his lips to clear the remainder of the sugar crystals from them. It took a few seconds but then his eyes widened, Din taking another drink before he set the rest down, grinning at you. “That’s fucking great.” 

With a relieved laugh, you finally tried yours, eyes closing at the familiar combination of cinnamon, sugar and toffee, the flavor just as crisp as you remembered from previous years. “It is, isn’t it?” You went quiet for a few seconds and then said Din’s name, waiting until he was looking back at you to continue. “Thank you. Really.”

“Don’t mention it.” He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, shrugging. “I just don’t want him to ruin your night.”

“He won’t.” With a wry smile, you linked your fingers together atop the table. “He doesn’t get to do that anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Din didn’t say anything else, though, instead spending the next few seconds just watching you, his expression relaxed and the corners of his mouth curved up in a small smile. He looked warm and cozy in the confines of the bar - the inside of it already decorated in strands of multicolored Christmas lights and garlands, a large tree set up in the corner near where the service station for the outdoor seating area was usually positioned. And that makes me… feel better, too.

He’d dressed just as casually as you - another Henley, that one in a deep red that contrasted with the tanned skin of his forearms and upper chest - which is was visible due to the fact that he had three of the buttons undone. It was distracting, because he was distracting, but you could tell that he hadn’t done it to draw attention to himself. No, he’s just comfortable. “What are you looking at, Din?”

Frowning, you narrowed your eyes, his expression changing to one of shock. Why? It’s just a question. “You.” His answer was just as shocking, though, and at the single word, you sat straight up, knocking into the chairback with the movement. “You’re really done with him, hmm?” 

“I am.” Averting your eyes in an attempt to keep it together, you picked your beer up again, distracting yourself with another drink. “We were together for three years, and even when he explained to me that he thought I needed to be ready to up and leave Mistletoe with him if and when he got his promotion, he couldn’t… wouldn’t say that he’d ever thought about marrying me.” 

“So you don’t want to leave here?” He was frowning again, head tilted to one side. “You’re planning on staying here indefinitely?”

“No. It’s not the leaving that bothered me, and it’s not even that I need to be married, either. I guess I just didn’t want to risk uprooting everything for someone that wasn’t… that didn’t want to think about a future with me.” Setting your glass down, you relaxed again, shoulders slumping briefly. “I don’t care if it’s a couple hours away, I wouldn’t want to move somewhere, get dumped and then have to figure out everything on my own.” 

“You could do it.” He tapped his fingertips on top of the table. “It wouldn’t be fun, but if anyone could handle something like that, it’d be you.” 

“You don’t even know me, Din.” But the compliment from him made you smile, heat rushing to your cheeks even as you dismissed what he was saying. “All you know is that I sometimes lock myself out of the fingerprint reader at the office, and I get overwhelmed by emails and alerts, and -”

“I don’t know you yet.” Holding up one finger, Din raised an eyebrow. “But after this competition, I will.” There were a ton of things that you wanted to say - countless ways that you could have reacted to his words, but instead of saying anything, you were interrupted again by one of the competition organizers, the woman stopping next to your table with a sealed envelope and a few loose sheets of paper - one of them with a lot of text on it, along with a small basket that had pens and pencils along with bingo daubers in it. “Hi.” 

Seamlessly, he turned his attention to the woman, his smile growing. “Hello to you two.” She held the items up, grinning. “I have these to deliver to you. The envelope contains the stuff for the different rounds tonight, and the extra paper’s got instructions on it, plus some empty sheets for notes.” Din took the envelope from her while you grabbed for the loose papers, eyes scanning the detailed instructions, though you quickly returned your attention to the woman. “Keep that sealed until we tell you to open it, and you’ll be good. Any questions?” 

“No.” Smiling at her, you shook your head. “It’s pretty straightforward, right?”

“It is.” The woman backed away a few steps, still watching the two of you. “We’ll be starting in about fifteen minutes, so if you need to get a refill on your drinks, or use the bathroom, or -”

“That’s where I come in.” The bartender was behind her, that woman smiling, too. “Got an order of buffalo wings and some loaded potato dip?” The organizer stepped even further away, telling the two of you to have fun, and then the bartender set the food down, following it with small plates. “Did you want to order another beer? Get it in and make sure you’re set for the first round?” 

“Sure.” Din nodded, his eyes moving from the plates to the woman, and though she was pretty, you were surprised to see that he looked at her with nothing more than friendly interest, his eyes not lingering in one place for too long. “Another one of these sounds good. How about you?”

“Yeah.” You agreed, figuring that you could have a second drink and then let yourself sober up for the rest of the night. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Alright, on the same tab?” The bartender looked to you, waiting. 

“Yea-”

“No, close hers and put this on mine.” Din shifted and reached for his wallet, pulling out a credit card and handing it over. “Thank you.” She nodded and took the card, heading back for the bar. “You paid for food, it’s fine.” 

“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, you reached for your class and lifted it, holding it out and across the table toward him. “We should make a toast.” Thinking, you wrinkled your nose as you looked around the room. “To beating all of these other teams at trivia and getting a head start on winning this competition.” 

“Alright, sounds good.” He nodded, fingers closing around his drink. “Can we also add a toast for you teaching me about the way you celebrate the holidays?” We can, but that’s not a traditional toast. “Or maybe to new friends? To a great Christmas?”

“All of the above.” Tilting your glass, you clinked the edge of it with his and grinned, raising it to your lips and taking a drink. To a new friend at Christmas. “Do you want to read these rules?” 

“I do, but those wings look great so I’d like to start there.” Laughing, you set your beer down and reached for the smaller plates, handing him one. “You can have some if you want.” Thanking him, and telling him that the same was true for him and your dip, the two of you spent the next few minutes eating in silence, the noise around you growing louder and more and more people showed up and your replacement beers were delivered. “So do people come in and watch this event?” 

He wiped at his face with a napkin, gesturing with that hand when he was done. “They do. And they can play along, too, but it’s not like normal trivia where they get to turn their answers in for points, because that would be too confusing.” 

“So it only counts for us?” Nodding in agreement, you shifted in your chair to look around the bar and were surprised to catch James’ eye again, noticing that he was still sitting where he had been. He didn’t look away and you stiffened, hand pausing mid-reach for your mostly empty beer glass. Din caught the pause immediately, saying your name. “Do you want to switch seats? I have no problem with him staring at me all night if it means you’re more comfortable.” 

“I…” You didn’t want to say yes, but part of you knew that if you didn’t, you would be distracted - and you didn’t want that to happen, either. “Sure, Din. Thank you.” 

He stood while you were still speaking, moving to your side of the table and waiting, and when you stood, too, your purse in one hand, Din reached out and squeezed your elbow. “No problem.” 

It didn’t take you long to get situated in his seat, and with some surprise, you realized that he’d left his jacket hanging over the back, which meant that as you settled, you could smell his cologne, the scent faint but present. “He’s going to stare at you all night.” You reached for another waffle fry, dipping it into the remaining mixture in the bowl between you. “Probably -”

“Let him.” Din bit into his last wing, shrugging. “I don’t care. I don’t know him, so it doesn’t bother me.” You felt a wave of gratitude for your new friend and told him as much, but Din waved you off, his smile in place. “Like I said, as long as you’re comfortable, I’m alright.” 

You didn’t know if he was flirting or just being a decent person, but either way, you appreciated it, Din beginning to tell you a story about something that had happened at work. He only got halfway through it when the event organizer - Tina - began to speak into the microphone. 

“Alright, we’re going to get started in about five minutes, so if you’re competing in the trivia contest tonight, make sure you get any last minute food or drink orders in and use the bathroom.” 

There was a flurry of movement, but neither of you stood up, instead choosing to stay in your seats. I’ll go between rounds. 

As the minutes ticked by, you felt your nerves getting more frayed - though it was just competition jitters and had nothing to do with Din sitting across from you. “She’s coming back to the microphone.” He sighed, stacking his fork and napkin atop the plate of wing bones. “And everyone’s sitting down, and -”

“Alright, everyone, we’re about to start.” Tina took the stage again and the room went quiet, everyone’s attention shifting to her. “I’m going to explain the rules to you, and then ask each team to open their envelope.” Din held yours up, grinning, and you didn’t try to stop your answering expression, teeth digging into your lower lip as you nodded. “Inside your envelope are three additional envelopes marked 1, 2 and 3, to correspond with each round.” 

The woman continued explaining things, and even though you were familiar with the progression of the event, you listened closely. The night started out with general Christmas trivia, and Tina informed you that she would read each question out loud, and teams would have 30 seconds to write out answers before someone would have to deliver the slips of paper to the front table. “How will they know it’s ours?” Din frowned, glancing at you. “That’s a lot of -”

“The table number is on the back of the answer slips, usually.” Speaking quietly, you looked away from the front of the room. “But this way people can’t change their answers, and the points will be tallied by someone as the round goes on, not all at the end.” 

The second round was Christmas Music Bingo, and there were individual bingo boards in the enveloped marked “2”. “We’ll play five rounds of that, and each round lasts until we get three bingos.” She scanned the room as she explained the rules. “The team that has the most combined bingo wins between them at the end wins that round.” 

“I’m horrible with Christmas music,” Din muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “I -”

“Don’t worry.” You reached over, laying your hand atop the one that he had on the table. “I’m great at it.” And you were - you could identify most of the songs in only a few seconds, and were quick with the dauber. “It’s slower than regular bingo, too, because they play five seconds of each song, so you have plenty of time.” 

He looked worried but didn’t say anything else, and as Tina continued on, explaining the third portion of the event - a general word scramble - he looked much more relaxed. “I’m good with puzzles.” Din wet his lips, his eyes locked on your face. “That’s a relief.” 

I hope so. 

“We’re going to get started so go ahead and open envelope number 1.” Tina spoke again, and you made a split second decision, saying Din’s name. 

“Come sit next to me, that way we can share answers without having to yell across the table.” Your heart was pounding - not only because of excitement but in response to your suggestion. Keep it together, this is just .. it’s strategy, it - 

“Good idea.” Din swiftly moved and dragged one of the chairs to the corner of the table so that he was sitting much closer, his knee brushing yours as he scooted in. “Now we can whisper, and no one will hear us.” Yeah. We can. 

“Alright. Phones and tablets away, and please remember - if you’re just an observer, you cannot help the teams competing. If we see anyone attempting to cheat, you’ll be eliminated from the event and from the competition. Tina cleared her throat. “Just a few more seconds while everyone gets situated…” She trailed off and you and Din began arranging things in front of you - the stack of answer cards, the question sheet, the scratch paper and an extra pen - he methodically lined everything up before handing you the second pen. 

“You take it. I’m sure your handwriting is better than mine, so you should write the answers down.” 

“Alright.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your fingers around the pen. “Let’s look at the questions, and -”

“No.” He laid his hand over the sheet, shaking his head. “If we look, we’ll be thinking ahead and trying to answer too many things at once. Let’s just go with her as she asks. One question at a time.” 

It was a different strategy than the one you’d used before, but you agreed - wanting Din to feel like you were listening to him and including him, and so you pulled one of the blank sheets in front of you, pen poised. “You’ve got it, Din.” 

A few seconds later, Tina read the first question, and you were thrilled when Din spoke up right away, his tone confident. “A star. I’ve seen enough of them around to know that.” 

Writing the answer down, you folded the paper in half and held it out to him, Din grinning as he jumped up to carry it to the front table. He was still smiling as he made his way back to you, and you hoped that his good mood would last throughout the rest of the night, too. “They won’t all be that easy.” He sipped his beer, getting comfortable in the seat. “Some will be really hard.”

“That’s fine.” He said your name, turning his head to look at you. “We’ve got this.” 

And things went smoothly until question 7, which was a math question. “There’s not enough time to add everything.” You were panicked, frantically writing numbers on the sheet of paper. “I -” 

“Each day is the same number of gifts as the number, right?” 

“Right.” Your heart was beating quickly. “But we -”

“Give me a second.” He closed his eyes, thinking. “Wait, the song says that the gifts are repeated every day, though, so it’s not the same number of things over and over, it’s new…” He trailed off and reached for his pen, scribbling down a few things, his brow furrowed. “Alright, it’s… Maker, I hope this is…” He looked at you, letting out a breath. “It’s 364.” 

“What?” Your eyes flicked to the timer - down to five seconds. “Din?” 

“That’s it. I promise.” 

You had  nothing to lose and so you wrote down the number, folding the paper over before you carried it up to the front, the rest of the teams following. If he got that right, I’ll be really impressed.

When you took your seat again, Din was beaming, the pen still in  his hand as he pointed at the paper with it. “What?” 

“I’m right. I did the long math while you were up there.” You glanced at the equations, and even though you didn’t have time to work them out in your head, they looked correct, and you told him as much. I would have been wrong. “Everyone’s going to say 78. And that would be right if they were only counting the last day, but…” 

“I would have said 78.” Covering your mouth, you sighed. “So I would have been wrong.” 

“That’s what I’m here for.” He elbowed you, but didn’t have a chance to continue before the next question was read, both of you putting your heads back together. 

There were a few tough ones, but you worked through them - guessing on a few that involved making fudge and Santa ads, going against your own habits when it came to deciding if more people used real or artificial trees, and very quickly giving Din an explanation of why a pink bunny suit was a gift that a young boy got from his aunt in a movie that he’d never seen. 

But you were having fun - and even though you tried hard not to think about it, you were focused on the fact that you and Din worked well as a team, the man listening to your ideas and answers, and not outright making you feel stupid when you gave answers that he didn’t agree with. I could get used to this, you admitted as you delivered the answer to question 17, nodding at the person that took your paper before you turned back toward your table. I could get used to being like this with him. 

And that was dangerous, but you couldn’t help it, settling back into your seat as Din pointed at the question sheet. “I looked at the next question while you were up there. I haven’t seen this movie, so I don’t know.” 

“It’s three.” Chewing on your lip as Tina began reading the question. “Past, present, and future. It’s supposed to help Scrooge understand what he did wrong and how he’s still got time to change, and …” You wrote the number down as you spoke, looking up at the clock. “And it all starts when his dead business partner tells him that he’s going to -”

“Isn’t it four then?” Din leaned in, tapping his index finger on the table. “The three you mentioned and then the business partner?” Oh, shit, he’s right. Quickly scribbling the “3” out, you wrote “4” just as the time ran out, dropping the pen on the table and turning your head toward Din. 

“I could kiss you right now. You just saved us a point, Din. I’m an idiot, and -”

“Let me go turn it in.” He raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise it won’t matter if I was right or not.” He plucked the paper from your fingers and stood. “Be right back.” You watched him go - and let yourself think about what you’d just said, one hand rising to cover your mouth in horror. Oh, no. I just… 

He hadn’t seemed upset, though, and even though your heart was pounding at your admission, you tried not to let it bother you, the comment an offhand one that anyone could have made. People say that all the time, right? People talk about … 

Kissing him for knowing the answer to a trivia question was one thing - but the fact was, the more time you spent with him, the more you thought that you wanted to kiss him for real, even though you knew it was a bad idea. Not a good idea at all, so stop thinking about it. “Lots of threes on those papers.” He sat back down. “Either everyone else is wrong, or we’re the only ones that didn’t get it.

“No, you’re right.” Biting your lower lip, you forced yourself to speak. “The business partner was definitely a ghost, too.” I should have thought of that. I should have realized it was four, and not three and … “We’ll know soon enough.” 

Question 19 was simple, too, and as you wrote the answer down, Din told you quickly about how he’d been to the ballet as a child and had actually seen The Nutcracker, and when you sat back down and finished your beer, you handed him the pen you’d been holding, watching as his eyes narrowed. “What’s this?”

“You write the last one.” He took it from you, not breaking eye contact. “They can read your writing for one question.”

“Alright, then what’s the answer?” He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, shrugging. “Because I have no idea. Is it somewhere in Europe? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Poinsettia in anything but a bucket, and …” Din trailed off. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Frowning, you covered your face with your hands. “It’s not America. It’s not Canada. I don’t think it’s Europe. I remember someone saying that they came from somewhere warm, so South America, maybe? Chile? Peru? Brazil?” 

“Colombia? Ecuador? Venezuela?” Din tapped the pen on the paper, leaving tiny black dots in its wake. “Anything sounding familiar?” 

“No.” You groaned. “Nothing is popping out, I don’t… I don’t have any idea.” He lifted the pen and let it hover, staring at the blank sheet. “Just put something, Din. We have no time. We have to turn in an answer, and -” Eyes on the sheet, you watched as he scribbled down Panama and then stood up, uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s fine, Din. We can miss one.” We probably missed more than one, anyway. “Just turn it in.” 

He moved slowly that time, pausing before he dropped the paper into the waiting basket and then turned to come back. You didn’t like the look on his face - disappointment didn’t suit him - and so you opened your mouth to tell him again that it was fine, but he didn’t let you, holding up a hand. “I’m going to go use the bathroom while they’re tallying everything up. Be right back.” 

He turned away before you could reply, and once he was out of sight, you reached for your purse, pulling your phone out and typing the question in. Shit, it was Mexico. You groaned, flipping the phone over and letting the screen rest against the tabletop. We were close, I guess… 

That meant that there was at least one out of 20 that you’d missed, but you hoped that getting one of the harder ones would make up for it. That’s all I can do now. “Can I take anything off your table?” 

The bartender was back, standing next to where you were sitting, and with a nod, you gave her permission to clear the dirty dishes and finished food, along with your empty glasses. “And I’ll take a Coke, please. I don’t know if he’s going to have another drink, but -”

“I’ll have a Coke, too.” Din reappeared, a tiny smile on his face. “That sounds good.” She assured you that she’d be back in a few, and then Din sat back down next to you, leaning in. “We were wrong.” 

‘I know.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “It was Mexico.”

“That’s alright, though. I think we got enough of the other ones to keep us in the top portion of that section.” He scratched at his cheek, sniffing. “And there’s still two more games to go.” 

“Well the next one is more luck than anything.” You pointed at the envelope. “Just depends on how quick you are and what’s on the board.” 

“Speaking of luck,” Din continued, his attention on the stage in front of you. “Your ex, James? He was in the bathroom. He walked in as I was walking out, and I’m pretty sure if looks could kill, I’d be about 12 feet under right now.” 

“Well he’s going to have to get used to seeing me with other guys if he’s planning on staying in Mistletoe.” You scowled, doodling on the question sheet in front of you, the black ink swirling over the page. “Dating or not. That’s what happens when you break up with someone - they move on with their life, even if you don’t like it.” 

“Well he definitely doesn’t like me.” Din’s smile was bright, the dimple on his cheek deep, and you were overcome with the desire to reach out and press your thumb over it, cupping his cheek with your palm. But I’m not going to. I can’t. “I didn’t say anything to him, though. Just nodded and walked out.” 

“Two Cokes.” The bartender came back, plastic cups in her hands. “And it looks like I’m just in time, too. Good luck.” 

She was - Tina was heading back to the stage, microphone in hand. You and Din thanked the young woman before she stepped away, and soon after, your attention was fully on the stage in front of you, the heat and heft of Din’s body noticeable to your left. He could have moved back. There’s no reason for us to be next to each other here. 

“Round two is about to begin.” Tina tapped the mic, staring out at the crowd. “But before we start that, we’ll announce the winners of the trivia round.” She paused and you looked over at Din, his attention straight ahead. He’s more competitive than I thought he was. “It was close, and we actually had a three-team tie for third place.” I hope that’s not us. “Team Holi-daze, Danny Quizito and Threepeat all had 16 points.” 

“That’s a good score.” Your frown deepened. “I’m not sure we could have beat that, and -”

“We don’t have a team name.” Din leaned closer, his breath warm on the skin of your cheek. “There wasn’t anywhere to write it, and -” Shit, no we don’t. 

“We had  to fill it in on the website, but I never did. I -” You swore, swiping at your face with one hand. “Shit, I completely forgot.” 

“Smarty Pints, you’re in second place with 17 points.” Tina continued, turning her attention to the table immediately to your right, the two people sitting there cheering. One more shot. “And to our first place winners, we’re going to need a team name from you, because right now, all we’ve got is a table number.” She spin toward you, holding one hand out and pointing. “Table eight, congratulations, you had a score of 20, thanks to getting one of the bonus questions right.” 

You moved without thinking, leaning over and hugging Din, his arms going around you briefly before he pulled away, his smile broad. “Can’t believe we did it!” He was excited but then caught himself, head shaking back and forth. “But we need a team name. What should we tell them?”

“I don’t care. You pick.” You were thrilled with the win - but even more thrilled at the fact that Din had returned your hug, hold firm as he pulled you to his chest and held you there, even though it was only for a few seconds. I liked how that felt too much. Way too much. 

“Anything?” You nodded, agreeing. “Ok. Um…” Cleaning his throat, Din held up one finger. “Our team name will be …” After thinking through it, you saw the moment Din came to a decision, another smile lighting up his face. “How about Clan Mudhorn?” It made no sense to you - though the phrase sounded slightly familiar, but you had no objection. It’s different, that’s for sure. 

“Alright then.” Tina wrote the name down on the paper she held before picking it back up. “Clan Mudhorn is in the lead as of right now, but the unpredictability of the next two rounds mean that it’s still anyone’s game… and with that, we should get started on the musical bingo portion of the night.” 

She instructed you to open the second envelope, which contained ten bingo cards. The letters and numbers were replaced with titles of Christmas songs, and as you scanned the sheets, you decided that there was no real way to predict which would be the right choice for the rounds. “How does this work?” 

“She’ll explain it in a second,” you murmured as you counted out five sheets and handed them to Din. “But basically, you just listen to the song played and then mark it down on the sheet.” Pointing at your own stack, you glanced over at him. “Each team uses two sheets per round, so we’ll use all of them, but you’re only allowed to have one per player per round to make it a little more fair.” 

“Got it.” He was frowning as his eyes scanned the boxes. “I don’t… I don’t know half of these.” 

“It’s fine, Din,” Reaching over, you squeezed his hand. Just do what you can, alright? There are three winners per round, so we have a three in sixteen chance every time.” Pulling your hand back, you went quiet, eyes going back to the sheet of paper on the top of the stack. We just need to win one each round, and that will be enough to keep us out of the bottom of the ranking. 

And you believed that - but your thoughts were much more focused on the way it had felt to touch Din’s hand, the way his skin was soft and warm, the slight flex of his muscles as he moved his fingers. I want to hold his hand for real. It wasn’t the time, but it was the truth, and as the two of you listened to Tina go over the rules one final time, you looked over at Din again, finding that he was watching her with intensity, his dark eyes focused on where she stood. “Can you do me a favor?” 

He said your name, finally breaking his gaze away from her and looking back at you. “Yeah?” 

“Will you whisper the name of the song under your breath when you figure it out?” He looked - and sounded - worried, but you agreed immediately, telling him that you’d already planned on it. “Thank you. That’s the only way I’ll even have a chance … what he hell is a ‘Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays’?” 

“The best Christmas song from the 90’s that isn’t Mariah Carey, and it’s not even close.” You shrugged, deadpanning your answer. “Din, it’s not Christmas until you hear that song, and Justin Timberlake’s -”

“Oh, so it’s a boyband.” He raised an eyebrow. “That the kind of music you like?”

“Not so much now, no.” Wrinkling your nose, you continued. “All of the new stuff is … meh.” You sipped your drink, shrugging. “But back then? Those were the good old days. Britney and Nsync and Backstreet Boys and even -”

“You might as well be speaking in a different language.” Din grinned. “But I’ll take your word for it.” 

“I’ll play you a couple whole songs sometime. You’ll only hear a few seconds of them tonight, and it’s not enough.” He rolled his eyes playfully, and you gestured to the two bingo daubers in front of you. “What color? Green or red?” 

“Red. It’ll match my shirt.” He reached for it at the same time you did, and before you could stop it from happening, his fingers closed over yours, his palm warm against the back of your hand. You sucked in a breath, attempting to pull back, but Din’s fingers flexed again, keeping yours in place. 

Turning your head to the side, you met his eyes, Din’s gaze warm and his mouth set in a tiny smile. “Din, I -” You closed your fingers around the dauber and Din’s hold also tightened. Well I got what I wanted, kind of. “What are -”

“Alright we’re going to get started.” Tina’s voice cut in, the woman tapping on the mic twice. “Five seconds of each song in each round, and we’ll continue until we get three bingos. The music will pause as soon as someone claims a win, and start again after it’s confirmed.” 

At the sound of her voice, Din released your hand and you dropped the dauber, switching to the green one and uncapping it as you looked away, chewing on your lower lip. Ok, that was awkward. “Good luck, Din.” 

Out of the corner of one eye, you watched as he reached for the remaining marker, his other hand straightening the sheet of paper on the table in front of him. “You too.” 

It was the second time that night that you’d questioned yourself for the things you’d said or done - and even though Din hadn’t reacted negatively to either case, you could feel that your heart was pounding, nerves getting the better of you - and it had nothing to do with the competition. I like him, you admitted to yourself as the music started, Jingle Bells blaring out over the speakers. “Jingle Bells.” 

He thanked you, marking the song off on his sheet while you did the same, and then the song changed to one that wasn’t on your card, though you used the opportunity to mark off the center square. I think I really like him. 

It wasn’t the right time to think about it, and so you tried not to, pushing your unease to the side and focusing on the songs that played, muttering titles under your breath for Din. He scooted closer every few switches, Din’s thigh pressed against yours, and even though you wanted to read more into it, you knew that it was only so that he could hear you more easily - but you weren’t about to complain. 

The first bingo came from a different table, and it was quickly confirmed, but Din’s was the second, your partner jumping to his feet and waving the paper in the air. With a smile on your face, you watched as it was confirmed and marked down before he returned to your table, the smile still on his face. “One down, five to go.”

“Hopefully it’s more than that.” Your reply was quiet as you focused back on your own card, but it was pointless - the third winner called two songs later. “I needed one more and I would have had a triple bingo.” Frowning as you folded your board in half and set it aside, you reached for another sheet. “So close.” 

“Next time.” He settled into his seat, pushing his sleeves up past his elbows. “Four more rounds to go. Maybe we’ll both win one.” You hoped he was right - but it didn’t happen during the second round, three winners coming in quick succession before either of you had even marked down more than a handful of squares on your sheets. “Hey, it’s fine. We won the trivia,” Din cleared his throat before the third round started, saying your name. “That counts for something.” 

“It does. I’m just … I don’t like losing.” He leaned in, mouth set in a firm line. 

“I don’t either.” Tapping the table with one fingertip, Din shook his head back and forth. “And we won’t. So stop worrying.” 

“Alright.” Music began playing and your eyes widened - your attention going back to the sheet in front of you. “Last Christmas, Din.” It was a cover, but it still only took a few seconds for the entire bar to start singing along, and you were delighted when it continued for longer than the five seconds all the others had played for. 

When you looked back over at Din, grinning as you sung along, too, he looked confused but intrigued, his lips slightly parted as everyone hit the chorus, but at the sight of his laughter, you stopped singing and laughed, too, shoulders shaking. Oh, I really like this. 

The song tapered off, and Tina gave everyone a chance to settle down, the sound of clapping and cheers filling the bar for a few seconds while you and Din continued to laugh together. “So everyone likes that one, hmm?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a joke around here. There’s a game and everything, and it involves trying to avoid hearing the original between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, so that’s why they played a cover.” You took a deep breath. “No one lost that game, we marked off a couple squares, and -” 

The music starting again interrupted you, but it was Din that told you the name of the song, bent low over the table and moving his dauber into place as you stared on in shock. He knows some of them, then. 

Two songs later, it was you that rose from your chair, paper in hand as you shouted ‘bingo’ and headed for the front of the room, still smiling as the music ended. It was quickly confirmed, Tina’s assistant making off a “3 - #1” on the corner of your sheet and congratulating you. 

Din did the same when you sat back down, though his attention very quickly went back to his own bingo card. Watching intently as he continued to mark off the songs as you told him the titles, you cheered out loud when he marked off a final square and got a double bingo. Din’s voice carried over the sounds of Michael Buble singing ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ as he hurried to the front of the room with his card in his hand. So it’s like we’ve won once each round. This is good. This is enough. 

When he sat back down, Din was giddy, getting his 4th card situated before he turned his head to look at you, wetting his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” You answered without hesitation, smile wide. “This is really fun, Din.” He agreed, and then the fourth round started, both of you turning your attention back to the sheets in front of you. It was tough - you got nothing for four songs in a row and then your luck changed, green circles appearing on your sheet one after the other until you got a bingo - at the same time someone else did, both of you making your way to the front of the room to wait your turn. 

It was confirmed, too, and you could see the look of concentration on Din’s face as he waited for the music to play again, fingers holding the dauber tightly. Your anxiety grew as more songs played, but the room stayed quiet, and before you knew it, Din was on his feet again, the man claiming bingo as he rushed to the front of the room, pushing through tables of people. Seriously? 

He had a smug look on his face when he sat back down as Tina told everyone to switch to the final round’s sheets, and you couldn’t help laughing, your elbow shooting out to nudge against his ribs. “C’mon Din. Don’t be a sore winner. It’s still not over yet.” 

“No, it isn’t. But five seems like a really good number to have right about now.” You agreed, but there was no time to talk further because the music started playing, and unlike the previous round, you were marking squares off from the beginning - though Din wasn’t. 

That all changed though, when you heard the next song start, Din marking the space on his board before you’d even opened your mouth and then turning to you and holding a hand out while he mouthed the words. “Are you actually ….” 

He wasn’t alone - there was another round of cheers as the rest of the bar joined in, laughter and clapping almost drowning out the sound of Mariah Carey, but what really surprised you was hearing Din actually sing the words, his eyes full of laughter as he shimmied his shoulders in time with the music, never missing a beat. 

You joined in quickly, closing your eyes and shaking your head as you laughed through the lyrics, your voices mingling with everyone else’s as the song continued to play. Oh, this is perfect. 

When you opened your eyes again, you saw that Din was still singing, and when he saw that  you were watching, he reached out again, palm up. You reacted immediately, placing your hand in his, and when he squeezed you didn’t feel the need to pull back. Instead, you curled your fingertips against his palm while he pressed his free hand against his chest, voice getting louder as he promised he wouldn’t even wish for snow. 

It was somewhat impressive that he knew all of the lyrics - especially after he’d warned you that he wasn’t great with Christmas music, and despite the fact that you didn’t want to think about him, you had a brief flash of the previous year and James sitting rigidly in his chair while the rest of the bar erupted into song, your ex ignoring all of your attempts to pull him into the fun. But Din’s not … he’s … he’s enjoying this, and … it’s not fake. 

Din didn’t, however, attempt to hit the high note at the end, instead trailing off as he gave your hand one final squeeze and then let go, burying his face in his hands and resting his elbows on the table, both of you laughing while the song wound down. “That was something else, Din.” Leaning closer you briefly rested your cheek against his shoulder before straightening up. ‘Didn’t know you could sing.”

“Oh, I can’t.” He lifted his head and looked at you. “My … friend back home always complains about my singing. He says that I sound like a yowling Loth cat  …”  Din’s eyes widened as he trailed off, shaking his head quickly. “He’s just joking, so…” What’s a Loth cat? 

But you didn’t ask, and instead, you rolled your eyes again. “You sound fine, Din. This isn’t a singing competition, and you should be really thankful for that, because I’m not great, and we’d definitely lose.” 

“I’m sure you’re fine.” He was smiling again, the song ending as the bar erupted into another round of applause. “Alright, I guess we’ve gotta get serious again.” He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, picking up the dauber again. “Get it together, Djarin.” Yeah, I need to get it  together, too. 

You didn’t know if Din was going to bring up the fact that you’d held hands for an extended period of time, but until he did, you decided that you wouldn’t. Either. I don’t want to put him on the spot. Marking off a few squares, you froze at the sound of someone calling out bingo - only to relax a few seconds later when she yelled out that she’d been wrong. That’s a relief. 

Din was close again - there were four songs that would give him a single bingo, and you were almost positive that he’d get it before you did, but then you went on a three-in-a-row streak, your card almost entirely filled with green dots. “We’re so close.” You groaned as a song neither of you had played, your eyes darting to the bar around you. “We just need -” 

And then the familiar lyrics of ‘Frosty The Snowman’ started playing and you and Din both jumped to your feet, waving your papers - but so did three others, the five of you rushing to the front of the room. Shit. I don’t know how they settle a tie.

Tina took a step back, though she asked for everyone’s sheets, and as the woman eyed all of you - Din standing slightly behind you with his chest pressed against the back of your shoulder - she nodded twice. “Alright, so since you all called it at once, if these are legitimate bingo wins, we’ll let you five claim for this round.” 

It was a change in the rules but it was fair, since there was no surefire way to know who’d marked and claimed a win first. “This happen often?” Din whispered the words in your ear, his tone low and his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Changing the rules like this?”

“Sometimes.” You swallowed hard and fought the urge to lean back and into him, instead turning around so that you were facing each other. “This just makes it fair. There’s no advantage, and since everyone won on the same song, it just means the round is over fast.” He nodded, eyes on you, but before he could say anything else, Tina, returned to the microphone, the woman’s smile wide. 

“Arlight, all five are confirmed wins. Take your seats while we tally up the numbers, and we’ll announce the winners in fifteen minutes - just before the final round starts.” Din’s fingers brushed your hip as he turned away from you, heading back toward the table - and you followed closely, still stunned with the fact that out of seventeen possible bingo wins, you and Din had seven of them. That has to be enough. It has to. 

He took a seat while you bypassed the table, heading for the bathroom, and while in there, you gave yourself a few moments to catch your breath. The night was overwhelming you in the best ways - it was fantastic to spend time with Din, it was amazing that you were winning, and it seemed like he was having a great time, too…but there was still a part of your brain that was telling you to be careful. Don’t overthink this. Don’t … get ahead of yourself. 

You didn’t think you were - Din was sending out the classic signals, and even though you were trying hard not to outright react to them, you knew that you hadn’t been entirely successful. But that’s ok, because like Cara and Stacy said, I’m single. He’s single, and this can … this can happen. If it… if we want it to. “Get it together.” You spoke into the mirror, shoulders set. “Get it the fuck together.” 

“Talking to yourself?” One of the other competitors - Meagan - was in the bathroom, too, the woman washing her hands at the sink next to you. “It seems a lot more intense this year, and this is only the first night.” 

“Right?” Turning your head to the side, you smiled. “It’s hard not to get competitive, even when it’s just over trivia.” The woman laughed, drying her hands off before she turned to face you, arms crossed over your chest.   

“So, your partner.” She licked her lips, arching a brow. “Are you together, or -”

“No, we’re not. We just work together. James and I broke up, so I needed a backup, and … Din agreed.” 

“He’s hot.” She ran one hand through her hair. “Really hot. Is he single?” It hit you like a knife to the chest, and though you managed to keep your reaction hidden, the question - and subsequent answer - almost hurt. 

“He is, I think, We haven’t really talked about it, but he’s never mentioned a girlfriend, so…” 

“Hmm.” Meagan winked at you. “You gonna go for it?”

“Go for it? With Din?” You laughed, but the knot in your chest began to loosen - the simple fact that she hadn’t asked if he was single for herself comforting you more than it had any right to. “We’re just teammates and coworkers.” 

“If you say so.” She wiped her hands and then crossed her arms. “Couldn’t help watching him sing to you, and you would have to be blind to have missed the way he was looking at you.” What? He was just … it was just a song. “That man being single is a miracle, and I doubt it stays that way for long, especially if he starts coming out more.” She uncrossed her arms and moved toward the door. “This is a small town. There’s only so many places to hide, and I can promise you that putting him in this competition is going to make people want to get to know him. He seems fun.” 

You followed her out of the bathroom and back into the bar. “He is fun. We don’t know each other well, but …” Frowning, you looked down. “Thanks, Meagan.” 

“Hey, for once, I’m glad Stacy was right about a guy.” She laughed as you reached her table, the woman sinking down into a seat next to her sister. “She told me he was eye candy and wasn’t lying.” Of course she did. The woman winked at you before you turned away and closed the distance to where Din was sitting and scrolling through his phone with one hand. 

“Ordered you a refill. Figured you’d want one more drink for the last round.” He glanced up, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. “Hope that was alright.” 

“Yeah.” You sat, scooting your chair slightly to the right and putting some distance between you. “This last round’s a little less hectic, but …” 

“I hope I didn’t overstep when I grabbed your hand earlier.” Din said your name quietly, “I know you’re just getting over a breakup, and I don’t want you to think that I … want, or … that I’m…” He was stumbling over his words - and because you could hear the sincerity in his tone, you decided to cut in, reaching over to settle your hand atop his again. 

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t mind. I don’t… I don’t mind.” Being honest was important to you, and you didn’t want to jeopardize things with Din by lying - even about something small. “I liked it. I like you, Din. And I’m not sure what that means right now, but … it’s the truth.” 

He sat in silence for long moments, eyes on you, and then he smiled, the expression overtaking his face with a slow grace, his lips parting to expose straight, white teeth, the dimple appearing on his cheek again - and a slight flush creeping up his neck. “I like you too.” He closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. “Good to know I’m not alone in that.” 

“You’re not.” You rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “Not at all.” 

There was more that you wanted to say, but before either of you could, Tina was back on the stage, the woman clearing her throat to quiet everyone down. “Alright we’ve got the results here from the previous round, and it looks like yet again, Clan Mudhorn came in first with 7 total bingos!” 

“Hey, we won!” Din pulled his hand out from under yours and then hugged you again, holding on for a little longer that time than he had the first. “Does that mean we -”

“Congratulations to the two of you, but, remember - the third portion of tonight, each correct answer is worth one point… so if someone gets all of them and you miss a few, they can still catch up.” She continued and listed the teams that had come in second and third place - one of them Smarty Pints, which meant that they were right on your tail. But we can still win this. He said that he’s good at puzzles, so… “You’ll have five minutes to complete as many of the answers on the page that you can, and at the end of the time, we’ll collect the sheets from you, and then count compare them to the answer sheet.” 

“Sounds simple enough.” Din murmured the words, fingers inching closer to the envelope. “You can write again.” Laughing, you picked up the pen and twisted it between your fingers, waiting for the go-ahead. 

And then Tina gave it, the woman telling you to open your envelopes and pull the sheet out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the print on the page. “Sixty? How the hell are we -” 

“Hey, this is easy, come on.” He ran his finger along the margin of the paper. “Just do the ones we know right away, and then work through the harder ones.” I’m glad one of us is calm. There hadn’t ever been that many questions to answer before, but you took a deep breath and pulled the sheet closer to you, turning it so that you could write out the answers. 

The two of you were able to guess just under half of the words at first glance - things like tape and ribbon, sled and cards. He got just as many words as you did, and while you completed your first pass on the sheet, Din went back to the beginning, muttering things under his breath and using the spare pencil to scribble on one of the spare sheets. “Remember,” Tina’s voice cut in. “Things have to be spelled correctly to be counted as right answers.” Shit. 

You made it a point to go back and check what you’d already written, and when you were satisfied that everything was right, you looked over at him, waiting. “Any others you want to share with me?”

“Actually, yeah.” He grinned, pushing his sheet over to you. “Here.” 

He’d written down twelve more answers for you, along with the numbers on the page, and you hastily filled them in, being sure to check the spelling - and make sure that you were using all of the provided letters. “That’s… you weren’t lying.” He’s fast at this. 

“I know.” He reached for the paper and slid it toward him, eyes scanning the empty spaces. “We only have about 20 left. We should…” Trailing off, he pointed. “Angels.” You filled it in, and by the time you were done, he had another one for you. “Secret Santa.” 

You were smiling as the time wound down, and even though you felt rushed as you entered in a few more - Prancer and Scrooge and Decorations - you weren’t upset when time ran out and you had empty lines - and neither was Din. 

He took the sheet to the front, laughing with Tina as he handed it over, and when he sat back down next to you, he settled his hand on your shoulder. “That was a hell of a lot of fun.” 

“It was.” You felt his grip on you tighten, and you turned your head toward him, wetting your lips. “I think that this was … a good idea, Din.” 

“Yeah?” You nodded, unwilling to look away. “I think so too.”

“So you don’t want to drop out? Switch partners? You’d be at a disadvantage, but I’m sure Omera would -”

“No way.” Din’s smile grew. “She’s got nothing on you.” I agree, but I’m not going to say that out loud. “Tonight’s proof that we work well together like this.” He was still touching you, his thumb arcing slowly over the front of your shoulder. You could feel it - even through your sweater, and again you were struck with how casual things were between you - his touch simple but meaningful - unable to be ignored but not too forward. He’s holding back, I think. He has to be, otherwise - 

“Good job tonight.” You saw Din’s eyes flash briefly before pulling his hand away - but not hastily, giving your shoulder one final squeeze before he returned it to the table and picked up his glass. Of course. 

“Yeah, we did a good job, didn’t we.” Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you tore your attention away from Din and looked up at the man standing behind you. “This is my coworker, Din. Din, this is my ex, James.” 

“Hey.” Din shifted in his chair, his eyes passing over your face as he reached up with one hand to shake James’, the other still holding onto his glass. “Guess I should thank you for me even being here, hmm?” 

“I…” James frowned, slowly extending his hand and taking Din’s, the seated man’s fingers engulfing the other man’s. “I guess so?” 

“She told me you were supposed to be her partner, and then when you broke up a couple weeks ago, she needed someone to take your place.” He was choosing his words carefully - you knew it, and if the glint in his eyes was any indication, Din knew that you knew it, too. “And I mean, we don’t know who won yet, but I’ve got a good feeling about our chances, so…” He let go of James’ hand, hooking his elbow casually over the back of the chair. “Feel pretty good going into the next event.” 

James’ jaw twitched - you saw the motion of it but he stayed quiet and just looked at Din - and then at you. It was somewhat satisfying to know that he was uncomfortable. Even though Din hadn’t outright been rude or overstepped, making your friendship out to be more than it was, you were thrilled to see that he wasn’t backing down under James’ stare - and that he hadn’t gone out of his way to confirm that the two of you were nothing more than coworkers. Because even though it’s true, it shouldn’t matter. 

“I do, too.” You looked away from James and grabbed your cup, taking a drink. “I met Din at work. He started what, 8 months ago?”

“About that, long, yeah.” Din’s lips twitched at your addition to the conversation as he nodded in agreement. “Can’t believe you remember.” 

“Well the last IT guy was absolutely useless. Remember I used to complain about him?” Rolling your eyes, you turned back to Din. “It’s been different at the office with you around.” It wasn’t a lie - but it also wasn’t the entire truth; the differences weren’t only limited to his on the job capabilities. It’s been nice having him around for a lot of reasons. “Anyway. Thanks for coming over to congratulate us, though.” I’m done with this. 

“I…” James spluttered over his words, scoffing. “I also … we never finished our conversation from earlier, at the bar? I wanted to talk to you about -” 

“We did finish it, though.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked twice. “I have nothing else to say to you about what happened between us.” 

“I thought we -” 

“You thought wrong.” At the last second, you changed your tone, the words coming out in a firm - but not angry - tone. “It’s over, James. We want and expect different things, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

There was nothing more that he could say to that, and so he gave you a final look and then turned away, your eyes following his back as he retreated through the crowd. Shit, that was… 

“You alright?” Din’s question surprised you, though when you looked over at him again, there was genuine concern in his eyes. “I hope I didn’t … say anything you didn’t want me to.” 

“You didn’t.” Laying your hand on his forearm, you looked down at the placement of your fingers, noticing a thin, silvery scar that curved over the space just beneath his elbow. I’ve never seen that before. “I appreciate you speaking up. I don’t want to give him any sort of false hope that I’m going to get back with him, and if he knows that I’m… moving forward and not just ignoring the place he used to be in my life, it… it’ll do that.”

“Well I’m happy to take his place.” Din paused. “That sounded… I meant here, for this competition.” The words were rushed, Din ducking his head again. “Not that I think anything else is -”

“I know what you meant, Din. And I’m happy you’re here, too.” You trailed a fingertip over the scar for a second and then pulled your hand back. “In whatever capacity this is.” 

His head shot back up, eyes wide as they found yours,  but there was no time for explanation because Tina took the stage again, a piece of paper in her hand. The bar went quiet as she smiled down at the crowd, holding up one finger. “I told you that this round could change everything.” 

“Oh, no.” Din groaned, lowering his chin. “Shit, we…”

“In third place overall, we have Team Caffeine, who got 34 of the word scramble answers correct.” The two of them stood as Tina continued. “They’ve won a $25 gift certificate to the coffee shop downtown, and take 15 points into the second event.” People clapped politely as the two of them collected their prize and sat back down. “Second place goes to Smarty Pints, who edged out Team Caffeine by five points overall thanks to their second place finish earlier.” She paused to let people clap. “They win a $25 gift card and a guaranteed order slot to Jenelle’s Bakery for two dozen Christmas cookies or cupcakes and twenty points going event number two.” 

“That’s a good prize,” you mumbled, wrinkling your nose. “I wouldn’t have been mad about that, those cupcakes are amazing.” Din laughed from next to you, but it was short lived as Tina raised the mic again and looked around the room before her gaze landed directly on your table. 

“And I think we all know who the big winners are. Clan Mudhorn got 47 of the words unscrambled correctly, which only added to their lead, and they’ll be taking 25 points into the next event, along with winning a night out - dinner here along with a pair of movie tickets.” 

You were frozen in your seat, but Din urged you to your feet, the two of you heading up to collect your prize. Tina handed him the envelope but he immediately passed it to you, thanking the woman before you made your way back to your table. “We won!” It finally sunk in when you sat back down, the bright red envelope held tightly in your hands. “Din, thank you. I couldn’t… wouldn’t have won without you, and -”

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He was excited too, though, and you wanted to memorize the sight of his grin and the sparkle in his eyes. “Team effort, right? You carried us through the bingo, and -” He cut himself off, running one hand through his hair. “And listen, if you want to use that with your friend Stacy or Cara, or -”

“No way.” You slid the envelope across  the tabletop so that it sat in front of him. “We won it, so we should use it together.” Oh, shit. I… “Only if you want to, though.” 

It took him a few seconds to look back up at you, but when he did, you saw that he was holding back a smile, trying to keep his tone even even though you saw the happiness in his eyes. “Are you asking me out?”  

“Yeah. I guess I am, Din.” 

—

Tag list reblog coming soon! 

[elithemiar-blog]

I’ve had an idea of how to connect Sam and/or Tucker to Bruce. It’s implementing it that’s a bit of a problem.

My first thought was Sam actually being a child of Bruce, however due to Grandma Ida, that dropped. But maybe Ida dyed her hair like Sam. Her parents are blonde, or she just happened to get black hair from Grandma Ida. Sam wears contacts, not sure if that’s a common HC within DP, but I’m going with it.

There were a couple of other thoughts, like the Masons pulled a Bruce, and adopted Sam. They still love her like their own, but they want a respectful princess out of her, instead of the rebellion that they got.

Maybe Bruce Wayne is Sam’s pseudo-uncle. I’m unsure of timeline wise, but maybe Dick and Jason vaguely remember her when she was a sweet innocent little girl, maybe Tim met her for a short time (a bit of a shock, when they meet again).

So, Jeremy and Pamela are tired of Sam rebelling, and sending her to Bruce Wayne, hoping her pseudo-uncle will help. Like Danny isn’t the only one having problems with curfew and homework, she doesn’t get caught as much, considering that Danny can usually get them home in time of their own curfews. 

(FW: A very long post. Not kidding, got a little out of hand. Oops.)

The ghosts have gotten worse, and truly the primary defense is a couple of teenagers. Sam has been researching some kind of mystery that has the normal rouges more powerful than before, which has caused her grades to drop and even longer nights of her not coming home on time.

Anyway, for a short while (1-3months [summer?]) Sam is sent to live with the Wayne’s as a way to sort out her rebellion. Through-out the entire time she’s trying to figure out the reason behind the ghosts’ power increase. Still, despite being all the way from Amity Park, she’s still part of Team Phantom, and she has her mind set on figuring it out. This decision also makes a bad impression on the Wayne family.

Everything is going great until the power increase isn’t limited to Amity, but everywhere, including Gotham. And all she has brought with her is a thermos and a basic ecto-blaster (not like Gotham is Amity, but better safe than sorry).

That’s really all I had going through my head for Sam. Her plant power from Undergrowth’s corruption may have been spotted by one of the family. Maybe the ecto-weapons got picked up from another. Like each member of the family figures out something from Sam, but it never really gets put together until Sam comes forward.

Sam knows the Wayne family is in some way connected to the Batclan, she’s just not entirely sure on how. She’s trying to make sure that the batfam don’t find out about Amity through the Wayne family.

---

Tucker was a little more difficult to figure out. First thought, relation to Duke, but then that was a stretch (as in less coincidence, and more natural relation [does that make sense?]). Instead, he’s got family working WE, so he gets more WE tech, and maybe that helps him code better for the ghost tech. A certain component is necessary for Danny working on his parent’s inventions, and so he’s gotta make an honest trade. Just a visit. The component necessary is still under testing and isn’t quite up for public sale.

When Tucker does end up visiting his relative, both of them get caught by Tim before the component can leave the tower. Thanks to Tucker improving it in some fashion, Tim approves taking it to his friend, he just really wants to know what the invention is.

---

My brain stopped here for a moment, and then the thought of the trio reuniting in Gotham hit hard.

Maybe a convention, not a ghost convention, maybe a space convention, which gives Danny an opportunity. They should hit Gotham anyway since Amity is too off and getting a weaker ecto-input as a baseline may help figure out the mystery. Which a space convention can be the alibi that Danny needs to use. Jazz goes with to watch out for her little brother, and since they keep contact with Sam and Tucker who are already in Gotham, they bring more weapons. Thinking ahead, Danny does bring the invention that used the component, so Tucker can show Tim.

Not sure where to go from here. As for the mystery, maybe it’s just a section of time. Like every thousand years or so, there’s an increase in power for the dead/undead, that takes a few months to resettle. It’s not a major thing. For some of the ghosts of Gotham, they just get a little too much for the vigilantes can handle without the appropriate technologies.

Other cities aren’t as bad, Gotham is just covered in death, that some ghosts just got a little extra. 

Either Team Phantom gets away with what they need to do, without the Batfam’s knowledge, or they absolutely shatter their secret. Danny’s secret was actually the very first thing they figured out, he ain’t so sneaky as he thinks. The situation with Amity Park on the other hand...

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity

thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie​ !!

                   When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture.  Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.

And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised.  More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation?  Less, because of course he would do this.  Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.

Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.

~

You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated.  It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.

After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him.  But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt.  It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power.  He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.

And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him.  He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all.  You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger.  You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then.  In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.

Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.

You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.

You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina).  He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses.  You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.

“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.

“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.

You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled.  “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”

You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.  

“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words.  He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.

“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.

He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him.  Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.

You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.  

When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper.  After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.

Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord.  You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.

“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally.  He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.

Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.

“Can I move yet, sir?”

“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.

“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.

“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.

"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.

He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin.  "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss.  Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.

Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.

“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.

“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.

He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.).  It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.

After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible.  “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.

“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.

~

It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in.  Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.

He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest.  And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.

You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs.  You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.

"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully.  "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."

Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.

“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly.  “I hope your flight was alright…?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”

“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.

“Yes, would you like to have a swim?  I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.

Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up.  That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.

James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut.  “Care to join us?” he asked you.

“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement.  “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.

“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.

“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants.  I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”

“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.  

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.

“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.

“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly.  “Helmut picked it out.”

“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms.  The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it.  Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.

“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides.  “It’s Chanel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke.  “This is weird.  I just wanna swim.”

“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you.  “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.

“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.

“Why does it matter?  You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention.  Good thing you liked feeling dirty.

“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered.  “Well, maybe you would…”

James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you.  “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer.  “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”

His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.

“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.

“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.

The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe.  Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface.  You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.

As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away.  You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.

Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.

The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.

“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.

“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.

“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.  

He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone.  “I know, but I want you to say it.”

“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word.  “Please?”

“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.

“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.

You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.

"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered.  His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.

"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.

"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."

"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him.  "I… don't have a title for you.  Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"

"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay?  I think we're well past close enough now for that."

"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."

"Both?"

"Yes, please," you breathed.

"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"

"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"

A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.

It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.

"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.

"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered.  "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."

"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.

His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.

He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission.  The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.

Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.

You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.

"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.

He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.

"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped.  "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"

"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted.  "James, take your fingers out."

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"

That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.

“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.

The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs.  As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them.  Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.

When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment.  But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.

You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.

Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing.  Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable.  His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.

Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss.  You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him.  “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”

You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.

"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.

"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"

“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.

“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.

“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men.  Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction.  So, you compromised. 

“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”

“But?”

“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”

He smiled, kissing your forehead.  “No, I don’t think so.  Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”

You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you.  It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.

“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them.  You only come for me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly.  Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.

“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you.  The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first.  Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.

Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.

You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly.  The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely.  “S’tight…” he slurred.

“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.

“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer.  You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different.  His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.  

He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked.  At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.

His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever.  “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you.  This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure.  Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.

"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.

"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly.  "Don't let her tell you what to do."

And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster.  You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.

“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come.  You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.

But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it.  He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are.  Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful.  “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”

“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you.  “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”

“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly.  “You need to be my good girl.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming.  No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.

“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.

“I have to,” you answered breathlessly.  “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”

“Mhmm?” he encouraged.

“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.

Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.” 

Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more.  It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!” 

He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you.  You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.

Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.

Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips.  “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently.  But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam!  It’s your turn.”

Your eyes went wide.  “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”

And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.

When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment.  “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.

From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming.  It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.

“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.  

“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.

“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast.  You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.

“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point.  “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”

“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face.  “This is my punishment.  He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”

Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint.  “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped.  I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”

He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally.  Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult.  Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either.  It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.

With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”

“Yes, please,” you shuddered. 

“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.  

“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.

He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.

Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.

“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process.  Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.

“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.

“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.

Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that.  “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"

"No, sir," you smiled weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.  

You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.

“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.

“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you.  Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.

Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.

“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.

“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.

“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”

You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.

“But I’m not going to let you stop.”

The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply.  He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.

“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered.  You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy.  Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.

But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him.  A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes.  You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.

“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes.  She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”

It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now?  You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.

“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.

“What is it that you want, lutka?  Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”

“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried.  He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.

“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you.  “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything.  I love being yours.”

“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.

“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.

“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.

“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.

“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.

Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you.  When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more.  But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead.  You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.  

It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.

You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again.  He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.

“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit.  “I— I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.

“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out.  He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.

“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”

You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.

Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.

"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"

“Is that what you need?” he groaned.  “You need to be full of my seed?”

“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”

He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.

His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.

But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.

“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.

“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.

“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.

“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.

“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud.  “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”

“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”

Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.

“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.

“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”

“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained.  “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”

“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.

“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”

He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.

“But look at her now!” he finished.  “She takes it all in stride.”

“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed.  “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”

“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.

“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.

“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned.  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”

“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged.  “Women can’t be stolen.  They can only go where they want to.  And she wants to be with me.”

He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep.  Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead.  “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”

[mademoisellehypergamy]

✨ CREATING A PERSONA FOR HYPERGAMY & SOCIAL CLIMBING  ✨

The votes are in and “Persona” won! Ladies, get the notebooks out. Class is in session. And this is gonna be a long one.

Be honest with me: Are you currently your ideal woman? The majority of you will probably answer honestly and say no. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. The harsh reality is most women on their hypergamous journey aren’t even close to being the ideal woman they aspire to be. Hell, the average woman (hypergamous or not) will probably live her life never being able to become that woman, if we’re being completely honest here.

I believe every hypergamous woman should create and adopt a persona. You are who you believe to be. When I was younger, my teachers and parents told me I was academically gifted. So guess what? I believed the same! That pushed me to work even harder in school. Same concept applies here. You are who you believe to be. A persona isn’t a “fake” version of you. It is you. Your ideal person. It is malleable, so it can change at anytime. Just like you changed throughout your life.

STEP 0 - WHY YOU SHOULD ADOPT A PERSONA

✨Not Everyone Will Win the Birth Lottery. But that doesn’t mean you can’t rewrite your past, and repave your future path. Let’s face it: some of you were born into bad circumstances; abusive families, poverty, toxic relationships, obstacles and barriers, etc. And some of you are living lives currently that you aren’t satisfied with: stressful job, health issues, bad environment, *insert sob story here*, blah, blah, blah, woe is me!  But should your current and past conditions get in the way of your hypergamous journey? No! Absolutely not. 

✨You Can’t Be the Same Basic B*tch Forever. Okay b*tch, when you were being “true to yourself” in the past, look where it got you. Probably in a less than favorable situation. Congratulations for being an authentic basic b*tch! 🥳😊

Ladies, change is necessary. When you started your hypergamous journey, you underwent a change. Are you saying your hypergamous self is fake? Of course it isn’t! It’s still you, just an “elevated you”. One that is more aware and knows what she wants. 

✨ Most People Don’t Even Know Who TF They Are. It’s sad, but true. Most people are lost and suppressing their true desires and personality. I’m here encouraging you ladies to create your ideal persona and to become this woman. Because this woman is who you are deep inside, who you want to be. Stop hiding her! Create her, and become her! As long as this person isn’t harming anyone, there is no reason you shouldn’t chase your dream self.

STEP 1 - CHOOSE & CREATE YOUR PERSONA

This is the fun part ladies! Time to choose and create your new persona!

✨ What Kind of Woman Do You Aspire to Be?  Have fun with this ladies! What kind of woman have you always dreamt of becoming? Is she wildly intelligent and beautiful? Or perhaps she has a heart of gold and is adored by all?  Nothing is off limits. This is you.

For those of you who are truly struggling, below I have included a few examples of common personas. If you don’t know where to begin, choose one as the “foundation” and build on it. Make it your own!

*Disclaimer: Anyone that I mentioned/included below is simply for inspiration. Not all of these women are hypergamous. This is just for inspiration*

1. The Socialite/ The “It” Girl: This is the girl that everyone knows. She’s always at a party with a glass of champagne, wearing the latest styles, and living the BEST life. She’s glamorously unattainable and few have access to her, but somehow she’s a part of every social circle.

Inspiration: Jamie Chua (https://www.instagram.com/ec24m/)

2. The Traveler: This is the girl that travels constantly. Whether it’s across the globe or to a different state/town, she’s always on the go! No one seems to know how she funds her lifestyle because she always appears to be traveling and never working. Her pictures are always on point and high quality, with a combination of bikini pictures, relaxing scenery, exotic foods, and endless hotels.

Inspiration: Jennifer Tuffen (https://www.instagram.com/izkiz/)

3. The Influencer: Think of the ultimate Instagram Baddie; perfect body (usually because of surgery), full lips, carefully applied makeup, nails always done, hair on point. She is sponsored by all the clothes brands, and lives lavishly. She’s always out at a restaurant and traveling. Typically dresses in more revealing clothes/lots of bikinis.  What differentiates her from the Socialite? The degree of elegance and class. While the Socialite gives you an “heiress” vibe, the Influencer is more on the “flashy celebrity” side.

Inspiration: Kaylar Will (https://www.instagram.com/kaylarwill/)

4. Femme Fatale: She rarely posts on social media, but when she does, it only makes you question her existence more. This girl is beautifully sensual, and her social media only reveals bits and pieces of her life. She is an entire mystery, no one knows about her private life. One day she’ll be flying from London, the next she’ll be visiting an art gallery  She’ll sometimes post images of gifted roses with poetry captions. She oozes seduction and dark mystery. 

Inspiration: Dita Von Teese (https://www.instagram.com/ditavonteese) Now I thought long and hard about who to choose for this one, and if you take a moment to look at Dita’s IG account, you will understand why. You will notice that the ONLY thing she posts about is her clothes/lingerie brand or things relating to business. She reveals nothing about her personal life. Every post is promotion about her business. In fact, the last time she posted something about her “life” was on October 8th when she posted her CAT modeling another designer’s scarf. She’s a very discreet woman, and it works in her favor.

5. Girl Next Door: You know that basic b*tch that’s SUPER popular for no reason? This is her. From her Starbucks to her Tiktoks, she’s just your average girl living her life. In a way, she isn’t a threat because she seems approachable, relatable, and friendly enough through social media. Something about her aspires others that they can achieve a similar lifestyle. She’s terribly basic, but somehow, it works. 

Inspiration: Loren Gray (https://www.instagram.com/loren/)

6. Exotica: *This persona is best suited for women of color* She is exotically beautiful and unique. She is a trendsetter, not a follower. She has an air of heightened sexuality, with a touch of grounded-spirituality. Something about her is wild and untamed, and she oozes excitement and adventure. 

Inspiration: Monica Leon, or “Danger”. Now if you’re in my generation, you may remember the reality show “For the Love of Ray J” (which was ghetto btw💀). To this day, one girl that I will NEVER forget on that show, was “Danger”, the girl with the tiger tattoo on her face and that NO ONE liked, but Ray J was obsessed with. Although she no longer is on Instagram (and has since legally changed her name), I still believe she naturally embodied that exotic and mysterious woman persona. I recommend watching the show for free on Youtube just to observe her (and only her because the other women were pickme’s  💀)

7. The Luxurious Diamond: This woman is the epitome of class and elegance. She exudes femininity and grace, and holds an air of mystery by only showing us bits and pieces of her life. What we see is soft luxuries, wineries, beautiful clothes/scenery, and a life of comfort. She balances a mature, elegant, ladylike presence, with subtle girly-youthfulness. 

Inspiration: Г-жа Анисимова   https://www.instagram.com/creme_de.la_femme/

✨How Does She Look Like? From her hair to how she wears her makeup, be able to create a vivid description of her appearance. Being able to do this will show you where to work on with your current appearance.

✨Personality We all have traits about ourselves that we don’t like. This is your chance to identify your traits that you love and maximize them, while also working on the aspects of your personality that are a bit more problematic.

It’s important to recognize that some “negative” traits are not really negative. Society just shames us for them. For example, “The Socialite” persona may be polite, but that doesn’t mean she’s super open and friendly with everyone. Not everyone is her friend, and she is naturally unattainable. So why would she be super friendly to everyone? Some may call her “standoffish”, but I call it “selective”.

✨Past Self? Not a Problem.  So let’s say you had a less than perfect childhood and endured a lot of trauma. Not a problem, just reinvent your past! Now I’m not saying to straight up lie and make up a crazy story about how you grew up with billionaire parents and traveled the globe. I’m saying adopt a realistic story that’ll help you on your journey. 

For example, if your date were to ask about your past, instead of telling him how tragic your childhood was and how you were homeless and abused by your parents, and no longer have a relationship with them, you can say: “I moved around a lot as a child (“homelessness”), so I really enjoyed being able to interact with a lot of different people (make the negative seem positive). My parents still move around a lot, so it’s hard for us to meet (explains why you aren’t in contact with your parents). 

Reword and reframe, ladies. Not everyone needs to know everything.

STEP 2 - BRING HER TO LIFE

✨Remove. You cannot embrace your new persona, your new IDENTITY, if you are still stuck in the past. And that includes past connections that do not serve you. Some of your old friends (college friends, childhood friends, etc.) are not meant to accompany you on this journey. And that’s OKAY. Same with other toxic relationships in your life, family included. You will have to decide who to keep, and who to distance yourself from.

✨ Social Media! I’ve mentioned this in an earlier post, but social media is the easiest way for you to push your new persona. You control the content that goes on your social media, so even if you haven’t fully embodied your new persona, you can sure as hell fake it on social media. 

- Unless your persona is a socialite/influencer type, avoid posting too often. - Be consistent; if you retouch your images, make sure its consistent with all your photos. - Be mindful of what people tag you in/post about you. You know that “friend” who always posts the ugliest pictures of you? Yeah. They’re not your friend, hun. 

✨Dress. The. Part. Okay, sis. You can have the personality down perfectly, but if the look doesn’t match, no one will buy it. Your look is the first thing people notice, so invest in it. It doesn’t cost a lot, especially with fast fashion sites like Shein that sells clothes for $5. Just be able to keep up the appearance.

✨ Immerse Yourself in the Environment.  Looking the part and having the right personality is not enough, ladies! It wouldn’t make sense for you to be a “Socialite” sharing pictures of you eating at Red Lobster and Olive Garden every night. It wouldn’t make sense for the “Traveler” persona to share only bathroom selfies in her apartment. You have to live like the woman you aspire to be, and that includes placing yourself in those environments.

If you are not in the place financially to do so, learn to project the image without spending money. Ex: If you can’t afford to go to Hawaii, go to your local beach and take bomb ass pictures. Don’t tag the location. People will automatically see a beach in your picture and assume you are on vacation traveling. Get creative, ladies. 

✨You Owe Them Nothing. Ladies! Remember you don’t owe anyone anything. Not an explanation, not your time, nothing. So if you are living this new persona and people are asking questions you don’t want to answer: don’t. This is your life. 

STEP 3 - YOUR PERSONA WHILE DATING HYPERGAMOUSLY & SOCIAL CLIMBING

So now that you have created your ideal persona, and taken the steps to incorporate it into your life, how can you use your newfound persona to aid you on your hypergamous journey and while social climbing?

✨Infiltrate New Circles. Your persona should be someone exciting and enticing. People love befriending people who are happy and adventurous. Use your persona to befriend others and enter new social circles. You can do this through: - Social media; follow similar accounts to yours and interact with them. - Activities related to your persona; Let’s say you adopted the “The Luxurious Diamond” persona and started visiting wineries. You may notice when you go that there are regulars; identify the regulars and use your common interest of wine to strike a conversation. -Interest groups; join clubs/groups that help you reach your goals. For example, “The Traveler” may have always wanted to travel to Bali, but didn’t want to go alone. She joins a travel group to meet other likeminded inviduals and meets a travel buddy. This person ends up introducing her to others who also enjoy traveling.

✨ Be a Chameleon. You should  never be set on just one persona. Like I said earlier, your persona should always be malleable. You should be able to change yourself to your benefit, and always be open to expansion. When it comes to dating, a man may “want” a certain type of woman, but the secret is that most men just want a woman who is open to possibilities.  I remember a man who used to be on my roster who loved music. This man was always insisting on taking me to operas and symphonies. And he too was a musician (I really don’t like dating musicians, but that’s a topic for another day), so whenever he was performing he would have me sitting in the box so I’d have an “undisturbed” experience.  Now ladies, I’m not into music AT ALL.  But I was open and willing, and guess what? The man adored it, and he adored me even more! He spoiled me like crazy and would serenade me with music he wrote about me because I was his “muse”. Although I ended up ghosting him, I definitely appreciate a good opera now! 

✨Be Larger than Life to Entice. The attractive part about these personas is the fact that it feels almost fake. The image that is portrayed is almost mythical, like something out of a fantasy. You can’t believe this girl is traveling so much, or you can’t believe this girl still has a social life in the middle of a pandemic! It’s unbelievable, but that’s what makes us so intrigued. Men especially love fantasy. That’s why many men have a “dream girl”, a woman that embodies their physical and emotional fantasies. They love the impossible. It’s also important to remember that you are always being watched. People see you, whether in person or on social media, and when they see someone or something more interesting than their mundane life, curiosity will get the best of them. They’ll be drawn to you and want to know you.

✨ The Persona Advantage. Creating a persona is supposed to help your journey. The purpose is to reinvent yourself into someone who will help you better navigate your hypergamous life.  For example, if you are trying to get into more exclusive, affluent circles, creating a persona who is skilled in social and dining etiquette would be more beneficial than a persona that’s an Instagram Influencer. Being an Instagram Baddie that wears Fashion Nova won’t help you at a Charity Gala. So be sure to think of what you desire in life to shape yourself into that. Don’t just become someone who won’t get you to where you want to be. 

This post will definitely have a Part 2 in the future, but in conclusion: You can be whoever you want to be as long as you play the role. Be an actress in your own life, and live the life you desire.

Well ladies, I’ll be away for Valentine’s day weekend. Wishing you all a wonderful and safe weekend ❤️ Lots of love.

Follow my IG for more: @mademoisellehypergamy

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth. (m) 4

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: oc has a really… really bad day, rude customers, swearing, degradation, near sexual assault, panic attack, anxiety attack, mention of major character death, description of plane crash (be aware), kissing, making out, brief tongue action, sexual content

→ word count: 9.8k

authors note:

finally!!! we’ve FINALLY a made it to the next chapter of It’s Definitely You… I can not put into words how long this chapter took me, but i’m so beyond grateful that i was able to continue with this story cause we are SO CLOSE to getting the answers we’re looking for!!! i just want to say thank you to everyone who has been so so supportive and loving of this story— it means the absolute world to me that people are enjoying my writing and the story im telling! it’s so rewarding to know that i have people looking forward to the future chapters— almost as excited as i am to write them! thank you. from the bottom of my heart. i hope you enjoy!!

authors thanks:

thank you to everyone who has supported me thus far.. i’m sending all of you love! there was no beta-reader for this chapter, so bear with me if there are any mistakes!

please send in an ask if you like to be added to the tag list !!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you!

It's been an awful day.

No, worse than awful. The moment you walked through the academia cafe's wooden doors, you knew you were doomed.

Usually, evening shift leaders are meant to prepare cold brews, pastries, and, ya know, other necessary necessities for coffee shops. Usually, they help by preparing everything so that it's easier on the openers (aka you and Jimin), especially since they open at such an early time. Much to your dismay, not a single thing was prepped for this morning's shift.

Screw you, closers!

Jimin was absolutely fuming. The human sunshine himself? Yeah, him. He was bursting at the seams, fire and chaos dancing in his usually sweet and softened eyes. The innocence of Jimin seemed to fade away the moment he clocked into an absolute mess of a morning shift, knowing that he, the shift leader, was the one who had to patch it back up. You had helped him as much as you could, but truth be told, it left a damper on the rest of the day.

Everything seemed to go downhill from there.

The cold brew machine broke, a mess of nozzles breaking off the spout, cold brew splattered across previously cleaned surfaces, and the already stressed Jimin doubled in his stress levels. The pastries also had no expiration dates, causing him to contact the manager on a tangent, questioning when said pastries would expire— and telling him that last night's shift leader did absolutely nothing.

You've never heard Jimin talk ill of someone until today.

And when Jimin wasn't happy, no one was happy.

On top of that, he spilled an entire cube of cream across the backroom floor, soaking his backpack and causing the cardboard boxes holding coffee beans to rip and tear. This left Jimin in tears, but you promised him that you would clean it up— not wanting to make things worse for the poor guy. So, there you were, on your hands and knees, cleaning the flooded backroom of creamy hell.

This was not an ideal morning, but you were happy to help keep some of the stress from falling onto Jimin's shoulders.

Oh! And that's not all.

You decided that wearing a white shirt to work was a good idea! Why did you do that, you wonder? Hell knows! All you do know is that the cream accident wasn't the problem; it was the matcha accident soon after when you dropped an open bag of bright green matcha on yourself, leaving behind green stains all over the white surface of your top.

Screw you, matcha!

After spending a solid ten minutes scrubbing most of the green out of your shirt, (and convinced you were also wiping away the last of your sanity), the doors opened, and customers were welcomed into the cafe. You couldn't help but notice their curious eyes dropping down and gazing at your clothing, which is slightly clouded with a green tone in a splotchy pattern.

You love your job. You love your job. You love your job.

That's what you're currently chanting to yourself as you sit in the backroom, eyes watery and breathing labored while your heavy head sits in your hands. You had decided to take a break after spilling hot coffee on a customer, who ended up cussing you out before leaving in a tizzy. You hated letting people down—even customers who were ungrateful and snarky.

You bow your head, closing your eyes in an attempt to empty your mind.

Everything's okay. It's fine.

You try to comfort yourself, reminding your anxiety-filled brain that you have a West End opportunity coming up and that it won't be long till you leave this barista job behind. No more angry customers. There would be no more splotched green clothing, unless it was the green paint for Elphaba's appearance in Wicked The Musical.

It's not that you want to leave the cafe, but you are hoping for a change. And to pursue what you truly wanted to. Being able to avoid awful days like these was just the cherry on top.

The idea of theatre works like a charm. Your heart rate slows, and breathing regains its composure. For a moment, your head empties as you lay it against the wall behind you. You wish this feeling would remain until the end of your shift, but, unfortunately for you, it doesn't last long.

The second you feel like you're ready to get back out there, lifting yourself from your "backroom corner of sadness" and making your way to the cafe floor, Taehyung is standing at the front register. Suddenly, all that pressure comes racing back and seeps through every part of your body, deep down into the tiniest crevices and leaving you a mess.

What is he doing here?

Should you take his order?

Maybe you should wait a little longer and let Jimin handle it?

When he looks up from his phone, probably in an attempt to see who would assist him, his eyes meet yours. It feels like your heart fully stops, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron, begging for Jimin to come to your aid. Alas, Jimin is making a frappuccino on the bar farthest from the register. You're thankful when you see Olivia, one of your other co-workers, make her way to the counter, greeting Taehyung and taking his order so that you don't have to.

You know you're a coward. You know that you should talk to him, especially since he's standing right in front of you with a neon "perfect opportunity" sign shining brightly above his head. And no matter how badly your heart wants to, your cowardice is the barricade in the way of its pursuit.

Taehyung isn't looking at you anymore but looking at the menu overhead— another "perfect opportunity" for you to sneak past Olivia, avoid his gaze, and make it to the bar unscathed. Luckily for you, Taehyung doesn't say anything other than his order.

When he finally strolls back to his small table in the corner, his cookie dough latte is in hand (courtesy of Jimin because you were too scared to make it-- assuming that you'll mess it up and embarrass yourself). Still, despite not having the courage to talk to him, you can't help but find yourself staring.

The last time you saw him was when you kissed him in your dream. When he had his warm arms around you, enveloping you in his gentle hold. They are now covered by a grey sweatshirt which keeps your eyes from wandering along the muscle beneath. The last time you saw him was when he kissed you and said he loved you. Taehyung loves you. Well, at least in your dream. But, God, how you wish it were real.

Instead, you're faced with the true reality: Taehyung's usually comforting eyes cast away from your own and a brick wall placed between the two of you, just waiting to be smashed down.

And it's all your fault.

"You're staring." Jimin coos from beside you, giving you a nudge with his arm. You offer him a glare that could pierce through the aforementioned brick wall, clearing your throat as you reach for the next order ticket. Jimin exhales in dissatisfaction, "You should just talk to him already."

"Wasn't that your job?" You question, remembering back to when Taehyung had asked to see Jimin last week. For the "project." A part of you believes that his need to vent was not regarding the theatre article. It was regarding you.

"Yes. It's my job to tell you that you should talk to him. This has gone on long enough, and no matter how much I loooove being a middleman to you, this is just getting ridiculous," Jimin states, his voice laced with the sound of sarcasm and exhaustion… You make a mental note to call him later and tell him how much you appreciate him. He's shaking his head as he finishes off another latte with the art of a flower, a creamy design atop the light brown surface.

It would be best if you still asked Jimin for latte art lessons, too.

Jimin continues, "Anyway… you should. He probably wants to talk it out just like you do."

You glance back over to Taehyung, whose head is now resting on his palm, looking over what you would assume to be notes for his project. You take a moment to appreciate his solitude, running your eyes across his loose black sweatpants and grey sweatshirt. You've never seen him this home-like before— but you're not complaining. Not in the slightest.

Even though he's looking at the paper, his eyes seem out of focus — what was he thinking about?

"Am I gonna get some help here, or should I leave?" A rough voice snaps, drawing your attention to the front register where a semi-tall man stands with an unsatisfied expression on his face. You take in a short breath, apologizing profusely as you scurry over to the register and eagerly ask for the man's order.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job?" The man continues, unamused, his voice spitting fire across the register and straight into your nerve endings. You pause, glancing up at him and wondering if you heard him correctly. Who the hell was this guy? He's removing his credit card from the back of his phone when he barks out his order. "A four-shot americano. Just black. Got it?"

You nod slowly, heart rate spiking at the man's tone of voice before you glance back down at the register screen. Usually, rude customers don't bother you all that much… but today, after everything that has happened earlier in the morning, you can't help but feel the stinging at the back of your eyes sooner than you expected. You were already close to crying before, but now it's as if it's going to spill out at any moment.

Don't cry. Don't.

You steal a shaky breath, tapping his order onto the register screen.

The man chuckles in an irritated manner. "Do you even speak?"

"Sorry… I uh— Uhm," you clear your throat anxiously, "is there anything else I can get for you today?"

The man bends down slightly, resting his hands on the counter with a sardonic grin glued to his face. You've never felt so uncomfortable in your life. His eyes pan over your name tag that sits on your apron. "Y/n."

Hearing your name formed on his lips makes you even more uncomfortable, which you thought was impossible. Apparently, you were wrong.

"I'll get started on your Americano… It'll be three thirty-nine." You say quietly, motioning for him to pay as you step over to the bar in hopes of getting as far from him as you can. Your hand shakes as you pick up the cup, pulling shots and placing it down below the espresso machine. Looking to the side, you spot Jimin talking to a customer about their order, totally unaware of the situation at hand.

"Make it extra good for me, yeah?" The man says, almost seductively, ignoring his card in the chip reader and focusing his attention on you.

You give him a nod, throat constricted with anxiety as you attempt to calm your shaking hands, spilling the tiniest bit of an espresso shot down the side of the cup. You tend to it quickly, wiping the trail of brown with a rag before drying your hands on your apron. You're thanking your bar skills, having been able to finish it quickly, before you're handing it to the man who is still grinning in your direction.

"Here you go, sir… Have a great day." You paint a smile on your face, which is smeared at the corners of your lips, unable to hide your ever-growing discomfort.

It's the moment you turn to walk towards Jimin that he speaks up again, voice deeper than before.

"Did you put in four shots?" He challenges, staring down at the cup in his calloused hands with a disgusted expression.

"Yes, sir." You respond.

"Then why does it look like you missed it?" He utters, turning it in his hold and showing you a line of espresso falling down the side. You missed a spot. Usually, it wasn't a big deal, but you can feel your heart drop to the floor.

"I paid for four shots. Is this a joke to you?" His voice grows louder word by word, echoing in your ears as your voice wavers in response.

"I'm.. I'm really sorry— I can remake it for you if you'd—"

"I'm going to be fucking late." He sneers, pushing the coffee cup forcefully in your direction before he leans across the counter. His eyes rake you up and down, and you swear you stop breathing. "You should make this up to me in a different way, yeah?"

You can't think straight. This was the first time in your life where you actually felt fearful of losing it. The man is staring at you, every inch of him screaming what your mother always warned you about: "stranger danger." A smirk returns to his face before you hear Jimin's footsteps behind you.

"Excuse me-"Jimin starts, voice strained in frustration, but before he can say another word, Taehyung is beside the man with his hand gripped onto his arm.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Taehyung says, voice low and eyes laced with disgust as he turns the asshole in his direction. Taehyung, although his build isn't as buff as the poor excuse for a man before him, he's still taller than him— and every part of you hopes that this guy would be intimidated. Taehyung hands the drink back to the customer, his stare unwavering. "It's four shots. So take it and leave."

The man scoffs, backing up from the counter with disbelief written on every inch of his face. "Who the hell are you?"

You look at Taehyung, whose hand is balled in a fist as he removes the customer's card from the reader with the other, holding it up to glance at the name. He looks absolutely livid, though his voice is controlled when he speaks. "Jared Stone, is it?"

The man stumbles forward to snatch his card quickly, eyes boring into Taehyungs.

"I'm a journalist." Taehyung continues, calmly, "And unless you want your name written in the newspaper, I'd suggest you leave before I pick up my pen."

You can tell that this "Jared" is starting to falter, believing Taehyung's slight fib, his arms lowering a bit as Taehyung glares at him with the most intense look you've seen on his beautiful face. Taehyung is usually all smiles-- kind eyes with a gentle tone. Like soft snowfall. His surface of genuity hides his ability to be cold and direct. Now, he's anything but soft. His hand is still sporting a fist, and he jerks his head in the direction of the door, coaxing Jared to leave the cafe as soon as possible.

"Fucking asshole," Jared mumbles under his breath, clocking Taehyung in the shoulder with force as he makes his way to the door, throwing his Americano down and splattering hot coffee along the tiled flooring. Customers gasp quietly as he bangs the door open, disappearing amidst the crowd outdoors as you struggle to catch your breath.

What the hell just happened?

"Are you okay?"

You glance back at Taehyung, his dark yet soft eyes studying your face as he once-overs your appearance.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Now his voice is wavering; the cold lace in his voice is gone and replaced with concern. He's staring at you with every ounce of that concern plastered across his face. You can't help the flutter of your heart in response to having his attention again… the attention of the one person who has been ignoring your existence the past few weeks. But then again, what have you done to help that? Absolutely nothing.

Maybe that's why he looks away once you confirm that you're alright. Maybe that's why he gives you a nod and a "good" before making his way back to his table, albeit a little timidly. Maybe that's why he doesn't question you further and leaves you standing at the counter like a lost puppy, hopeful for the return of the one who loves you most.

When he said he loved you? That was a dream.

You can feel your lower lip quivering as you turn and rush to the back room, Americano frenzy left in your wake as you curl into yourself in the corner. You'll clean it up in a moment.

You know this is just a bad day out of many-- but it feels like everything has been going wrong. What you wanted most at this moment was the same touch of the man who haunts your dreams. You wish he would hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. And the one thing that used to be steady and solid was Taehyung's friendship. Now, even that is ruined.

You make a mental note to speak to him as soon as possible… but you feel way too small right now to even dream of being confrontational.

Maybe that's why you end up crying in the back room, alone, back to your "backroom corner of sadness" with smears of green atop your shirt and spilled coffee on your hands.

You're dreaming again.

It wouldn't take much convincing to know this fact, especially since this dream seems to pick up from the exact spot that your airport dream left off. It was the same lights that shone overhead like a glowing halo, the same aching yet excited feeling in your chest, the same brown backpack carry-on you're currently throwing over your shoulder. You definitely didn't pack light, even for your carry-on, so you can't imagine how heavy your actual luggage is.

How did you even pass luggage check-in?

—

Your thoughts wisp away as soon as the dream jumps to you sitting in your seat, evident from the low whirring of the engine and the uncomfortable leather seat you're sitting in. You've never been a huge fan of planes, since your parents thought it was a good idea to watch "Lost" in front of you right before one of the bumpiest plane rides of your entire life. Ever since that day, you've always been nerve-wracked while flying.

If Taehyung were here, it would probably be easier.

You knew that he wanted to come. You knew that he wanted to be your support system in person, especially during this time of excitement — but he had work and projects, and you had promised him that you'd survive a mere month without his hand to hold. You'd claimed that he would be your "virtual" hand, that you would think of him whenever things got tough, or you felt like you couldn't keep going. After all, he was only a call away.

He had said that he was grateful for this fact. And to stay safe. So, you plan to.

You're too busy admiring the blue sky above, clouds dancing, and creating shapes that only an artist's mind could see. You can see rabbits and dragons hidden within the layers of fog that make up the clouds. You're far too distracted to notice an old woman seating herself beside you. It's when she speaks that you finally fix your attention toward her.

"Is this seat taken?" The old woman smiles. She has light grey hair, kind eyes, and wrinkles that define her age to be over 60 at least. Despite this, she looks youthful and friendly, which makes your nerves feel lighter.

"No, it's all yours!" You return said smile, nodding to her as she places her carry-on beneath her feet. It's an embroidered floral bag; pink flowers cross in zig zags atop the brown surface.

"Where are you headed?" She questions, setting her wrinkly hands on her lap.

You smile gleefully. "I'm going to London, actually!" You can't help but laugh at the old woman's shocked expression.

"Wow! That's quite the plane ride you have ahead of you! It'll be worth it once you're there, though." She seems genuinely excited for you, unabashedly clapping her hands and heightening your excitement even more. You offer her thanks before resuming your study of clouds.

—

You wish you could control this dream, just to bask in the excitement for a little bit longer— but time skips abruptly to the takeoff, engine revving like a loud roar from a lion as it gains speed down the runway. For a moment, your heart palpitates, nerves returning full-fledged. Take off and landing is your least favorite part of flying, fearing the worst.

Within seconds, you feel a warm hand placed on yours. The old woman is smiling kindly at you, rubbing your skin gently in a nurturing way before she looks at you fondly.

"My husband was afraid of flying." She says, squeezing your hand before she resumes looking forward.

"Really?" You question.

"So much so that he used to grip my hand like a stress ball, absolutely crushed my fingers." The two of you laugh, a fond smile playing at her lips, which deepens the wrinkles on either side and makes her smile appear even larger.

"How did he get over it?" You ask, distracting yourself from the upward tilting of the plane that's finally taking its flight. A metal bird on solid wings that you have to keep reminding yourself of its purpose: to fly, not to fall.

"He just held onto me." She shrugs. "He passed away a few years ago, but we used to face all of our fears together. He said that I always made him feel safe enough to face anything."

"He must've been brave. I would have still been terrified." You laugh quietly, holding your breath as the plane finally takes its flight and dips the slightest bit.

She's smiling and laughing in response, a warmth of admiration crossing her features. "I don't think so; he was absolutely shaking."

"Poor guy, he must really love you to face that fear." You respond, finally calming down when you see that the plane has reached high enough without any issues. It allows you to reach down and grab a piece of gum from your bag, which you assume would make the popping of your ears cease.

"He did."

You smile fondly as you pop said piece of gum into your mouth, mint exploding across your tongue. The old woman and her husband remind you a lot of your relationship with Taehyung. He's your safety net, who made you feel as if you could achieve anything.

You loved him.

"Remember," the old woman starts, "tell your loved ones that you love them. You never know how long you have with them."

Your smile fades then, seeing her eyes slowly churn with gratitude, yet she can't hide the fact that she so obviously misses her husband.

"I'm so sorry for your loss.." You whisper, solemnly smiling towards the woman beside you.

"It's okay…" She pats your hand. "We'll be reunited soon enough."

—

Cell Phone Reminder Added:

Tell Taehyung you love him when you land.

—

Another time jump, and this time you can feel the turbulence jostling you within your seat, adding shock to your already fearful state. Your hands are still holding the old woman's hand, and tears are pricking at the back of your eyes like a prodding needle. You've been silently telling yourself that you're going to be okay for the past fifteen minutes, and yet every moment spent on this plane sends you into fifteen different stages of fight or flight mode. Mostly flight mode. You could probably fly this plane better than the pilots.

The loudspeaker crackles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some weather changes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened in the meantime, and we'll be through it soon."

You wish you could say that the announcement eases your nerves, but the second bump of turbulence sends you nearly flying out of your seat, hushed whispers filling the nerve-riddled cabin. Obviously, you weren't the only one within this aircraft that was nervous. You can feel the old woman squeezing your hand again, but even she can't hide the look of terror upon her face.

Another intense jump of the aircraft sends your eyes squeezing shut, legs holding you still by the seat in front of you. You're confident that the passenger seated there is probably too distracted by the turbulence to be annoyed with your childish antics of seat kicking.

Another crackle of the loudspeaker nearly makes your racing heart stop beating.

"Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm… Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm…"

The message is repeating like a chant.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and spark of lightning sends the lights of the cabin flickering once, twice, then completely turning off, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. A sudden lurch downwards has you yelping, searching out the window for a sign of safety, but you're met with near darkness from the thunderous clouds around you, which block any form of vision.

The cabin is loud now. Cries and shouts are heard around you as you cover your ears in an attempt to regain control of your fear.

You'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe…

Another plummet downwards forces the tears out of your eyes, a muffled scream filling your hands when your stomach jumps up and into your throat. Within seconds, the oxygen masks from above come falling down, and it takes you merely another second to reach for two of them, helping the old woman who is frozen in shock beside you to get her mask on before putting on your own.

You suddenly hear a piercing voice over the loudspeaker, which is crackling even more intensely than before. You hate that loudspeaker more by the second.

"Please prepare for impact."

That's when the screams of neighboring passengers start. A baby wailing in the back of the cabin has the tears pouring quickly down your cheeks. You can't think. You can't see. You wish you could turn on your phone and call Taehyung, but the repetitive swooping downward of the plane knocks you of your senses.

All you can do is remember the smile on his face while waving you goodbye. The loving eyes of a man who loves you. His soft hair flowing as he does a happy dance before you disappear around the corner-- a large smile present on his lips as he continuously sends finger hearts your way.

You wish you could tell him you love him too.

You pray that you will see him again…

It's when you finally underpass the clouds and see the ground quickly coming closer and closer that you stop crying, absolute terror freezing your body, and an immediate wash of acceptance overtaking you. The ground is coming on fast.

This is it.

It seems that every second that passes, another giant swoop of the aircraft takes its ascent. A single tear falls down your cheek when you're merely ten feet away in the plummeting plane.

The last words from your mouth are sincere and quiet:

"I love you, Tae."

A roar rumbles in your ears. You can feel an initial strike of pain from the ground's impact, muffled screams filling your ears, and then…

You jolt upright, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you grasp for any form of life that you can. This form of life happens to be your Phantom Of The Opera blanket, which you tug upwards while frantically scooting back towards your headboard. You can feel the sweat sticking to the polar bear pajamas that hug your legs, clinging to the material and making you feel even more claustrophobic than you already are. Your eyes are blurry, breathing heavy, and your heart is running a mile a minute.

For a moment, you think you're still on that plane. That you're hitting the ground with force and praying to stay alive.

It's only when your surroundings settle in; your warm yet sweat-covered bed sheets, wooden bedside table that is littered with pictures of you and your friends, and the low rumble of a storm outside; only then are you able to catch your breath.

Only then do the tears come crashing down, a tsunami of racing beats of your heart, and the teardrops that fall against your t-shirt.

It felt so real.

And yet it wasn't, you remind yourself, raising your teary eyes to see the "Wicked The Musical" poster that hangs like a trophy on your wall, flashes of lightning brightening the shadow of the window against said poster. Despite knowing that it was all a dream, you can't help but feel as if you're still falling. As if you're dead right at this moment and unable to accept that fact.

What if you are?

This thought scares you, the tears falling again as your hands tremble towards your nightstand in search of your phone. Once found, It's a quick venture for your contacts before you're pressing the call button.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

You bite your lip, the ringing on the line endless as if it was mocking you and your will to be alive.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

You try again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

No answer.

Again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

"Please pick up." You whisper, face crumpling at your lack of luck. Taehyung had always been so quick to answer you, but the flashing red of your nightstand alarm clock is reminding you of what time it actually is:

3:00 AM.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone—"

He's probably sleeping, yet you ignore this possibility and attempt to reach him one more time, cutting off the last call and immediately pressing the call button again.

What if you're actually dead? What if this is your life flashing before your eyes? What if—

A tired voice croaks across the line after just a few more rings. "Hello?"

"Taehyung?" You say, your tone panicked and shaking— which is very obvious since his once tired voice is suddenly wide awake when he responds.

"Y/n?" You can hear the rustling of his sheets, probably from him sitting up in alarm. "What's going on, love?"

You don't even register his slip, voice hiccuping from the sobs that are currently racking your throat. If it weren't for your complete lack of brainpower right now, you would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of you. But how could you possibly not cry after a dream like that?

"Where- Where are you?" You question, clinging to your comforter as another round of sobs are released from your constricted throat.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here." His voice gently whispers, rustling continues, and suddenly you can hear his muffled footsteps over the line. "It's okay, talk to me.. what's going on?"

You blubber a bit, unable to form coherent words, but another hush from Taehyung and an "it's okay" helps you to get your words out.

"I had a- a dream. It was a plane crash, Tae." You cry, breathing slowing down ever so slightly. Your mind is still foggy, but you can feel your consciousness slowly coming back. "Where are you?"

There's dead silence on the line, the previous rustling and footsteps coming to a halt. For a moment, you think you lost him.

"Taehyung?" You whisper, another sob threatening your voice.

"Y/n." His tone is suddenly serious. "Stay right there. I'm on my way, okay? Just breathe. I'm coming." You can hear a jingling of what's most likely his keys and the door slamming shut. "I'm coming. Stay there."

"Okay." You sniffle quietly, hearing the line cut off, and you're left in the silence of your room once more. Without Taehyung's voice to distract you, the heart that beats rapidly in your chest seems to intensify its speed. Why had he gotten so serious after you told him what your dream was?

Ignoring this thought, you quickly lean over to turn on your light, which drowns the once darkroom in rich golden color.

You can see the polaroid pictures of you and Taehyung next to the wicked poster. He's smiling that same boxy smile that lights up a room, his eyes watching you pose for the picture. Not once did he look at the camera, you notice— his eyes were constantly on you. As if you could disappear at any moment, so he had to soak up as much as he could.

Although seeing him smile made your aftershock body relax just the tiniest bit more, you can still feel the fear within you.

You can still feel the initial pain of contact from that plummeting aircraft as it hit the earth's surface. It was as if it actually happened.

The scariest part?

A part of you is almost certain that it did.

He arrives quicker than you thought he would, a loud knock on the door disrupting your dazed-out state, which you haven't moved from since he hung up. If someone saw you at this moment, they would probably think you're crazy. Honestly… with how vivid that dream was… you probably are.

It took about five minutes of sitting there in the silence of your room for the regret to start sinking in; regret for forcing Taehyung up and out of bed at three o'clock in the morning when he could be happily asleep right now. But the moment you open the door, all your regrets cease at the sight of him.

He's got an extreme case of bed head, which he's attempting to hide with a beanie, but his hair is still wildly soaring this way and that— which you probably would've laughed at if it weren't for the circumstances. His face is drenched in concern, and a jacket is thrown haphazardly over himself, which seems to be partly off of his figure from what you'd assume was him running. He had to have been, judging by his labored breathing and snow-covered sweatpants that are painted with white up to his knees.

If you were in your right mind, you would probably be beckoning him in by now— but the only thing you can think to do is cry.

And that's exactly what you do.

You swear you see his own features crumple too, but his arms are around you before you can fully comprehend if you were seeing correctly, solid and warm as his embrace melts into you and consoles your beating heart. He rubs the back of your head with his hand, whispering into your ear and reminding you that everything's okay. The breath that fans along the skin of your cheek is warm and gentle, softening your erratic puffs of breath.

Within moments, he's removing his hat, discarding it on the table, and slowly moving you to the couch before seating himself beside you. His arm only leaves your back when you're fully seated, but it's quickly moving in front of you so that he can hold your hand. Constant touch. Constant reassurance. He's so good at calming you despite barely having to do it before… It's like he already knows what to do. Suddenly, he's the same boy from the rooftop—the same warm and comforting expression and the same soft hands that hold your own.

His smooth, deep voice breaks through your sniffling and thoughts. "Can you tell me what happened?"

With a nod, you begin explaining your dream. It might be all in your head, but Taehyung's face continues to grow paler and paler as you tell him the details. A shell shock look overtakes him in a way that makes your skin crawl. Maybe it's because it was such a dark dream; perhaps that's why he reacts the way he does. But it looks as if he had gone through it himself. His eyes are falling everywhere but on you, and his hand is steadfast on your own and gripping onto it like a lifeline.

"Y/n…" He whispers, his dark chocolate eyes resting on your hands— you try to ignore the fact that you notice a swarm of tears pricking his lower lash line. You don't have the right to call him out for expressing emotions, not after begging him to come over at three in the morning.

Still, "it was just a dream," you assure. Stating this seems to calm the last of your own fear, the weight within your chest dissipating to a dull ache-- still present but bearable.

"Yeah." He nods, quickly wiping the tears away and passing it off for brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was just a dream." And despite this fact that bursts from his lips, you can still hear the fear within his voice. You don't want to question him in hopes that you'll avoid upsetting either one of you further… you've shed enough tears for one night.

Yet when he leans towards you to wrap his arms around you, tears remain tauntingly behind your eyes. His heart is beating rapidly beneath the thin material of his jacket, thundering hooves of a horse at full speed.

It reminds you a lot of your own heartbeat that night on the rooftop. Your heart too was beating fast enough to possibly jump out of your chest, taking you down the stairs and out of his sight before you had the chance to say no. Suddenly, his warm embrace feels cold. You still haven't talked to him about that night.

Talk to him.

You breathe, "Taehyung."

He hums in response, low and gravelly with his evident exhaustion.

"I'm sorry." You confess.

Taehyung removes you from his embrace, turning you towards him. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm here, and everything's okay now. Like you said, it's just a dre-"

"No." You interrupt, breathing deeply to summon up the courage you've never possessed. "I'm sorry for running away that night."

He stays silent for a moment. He's obviously connecting the dots and slowly coming to terms with what your apology was truly meant for. You can't blame him for being confused since you ignored each other for weeks before you called him over at three in the morning because of a silly nightmare. It's when his gentle eyes slowly meet yours that you know he's on the same page. He still doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for being scared… I've never really experienced something like that, and I just… I ran like a coward." You fiddle with your fingers, the soles of your feet gliding against the carpet beneath them. "I'm not used to having someone in that way. An intimate way, I mean…" Your cheeks flush. "I've never even kissed anyone until that night."

"Y/n." He whispers, drawing your eyes back to his fond expression. He's looking at you in a way that makes your heart churn: soft, warm, understanding, and loving… all of this hidden within the chocolate of his irises. Gentle Taehyung. "I was too forward. That was completely my fault. I felt like I pushed my luck… and I didn't want to come across as overbearing, so I just felt it was better to distance myself. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do something you didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt you."

His words are like a warm hug around your wavering heart. You didn't really think about how embarrassed he might have felt, giving his heart to you only to have it left on that rooftop in the cold chill of winter.

You know that you have to make it up to him.

There's a pause of silence in the room, deafening your senses… which must be the only reason why you have the confidence to say:

"Kiss me."

Taehyung looks baffled.

Well, it's too late now.

"A do-over." You add.

Taehyung looks torn, yet his eyes are glued to yours. You try to avoid his gaze, even though you were the one who mentioned kissing in the first place.

Finally, he whispers, "Y/n…"

"Kiss me… I promise I won't run." You explain, words nearly catching in the back of your throat from your increasing nerves. You really didn't think this through.

Taehyung's frozen; the color that was once gone from his face when you told him about your dream is now rushing full force back onto his cheeks. It warms your soul. He looks almost like a child but with an intensity that is anything but childlike. You can nearly feel your heart drop into your stomach.

"Are you sure?" He questions, eyes never leaving yours.

You nod. "I'm done being afraid."

And that's all he needs.

He's slow, like the tide on a lazy river, full of gentleness and cautiousness to ensure that you won't fall overboard. That you won't run away.

And you don't.

It feels like years until his lips are placed delicately on your own, as still as a rock but warm and soft to the touch, beckoning you into its heat. Taehyung is testing the waters, moving his lips ever so slightly against yours… as if he was questioning whether or not you truly wanted this. So, in a trance, you slowly move your lips against his in return, parting them and sinking into the motion.

It seems that this was the only way to reassure him, and you must have done something right— seeing as his hand strays from your wrist and works its way up your arm. His touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps snaking along your skin, his brows cinching as he leans in even closer to you, and finally parts his lips against yours, dipping to capture your lower lip between his.

If you said you weren't inwardly freaking out for a moment there, you would be lying. Not once have you ever kissed anyone like this. But this is Taehyung, and for some reason, after the initial shock, it feels as if you both have kissed dozens of times. It feels right. Good.

His hand is now snaking around your neck, pulling you in even further, which you didn't think was possible. You swear you can feel your heart jump into your throat when a soft moan escapes his lips as he sneaks his tongue along the line of your lips. Not knowing what else to do, you part your lips for his access.

Not once has a boy been able to give you the shivers, and yet here Taehyung is lowering the last of your resolve when his tongue slides into your mouth. Your face turns beet red when a hiccup uncontrollably constricts your throat.

Taehyung stops abruptly, breathing out softly and distancing himself by only a fraction, probably to make sure you're still alive while still being encompassed in your warmth. You're definitely alive. Still, you feel as if you have to pinch yourself to make sure.

A smile sinks onto his lips, and your heart flutters at the low chuckle that meets your ears. He's perfect… in every way. Your heart clenches from pure adoration for the man in front of you. He's all smiles, lips kiss bitten and eyes soft and gentle... Without being able to restrain yourself, you move back towards him and meet his lips once more.

Like a switch, Taehyung responds a bit quicker this time, resuming his tantalizing routine with his tongue within your mouth. His breath is hot, mingling with your own when you stretch your arm up to place your hand within the softness of his wavy hair. You feel as if you're starting to get the hang of this, smiling a bit and tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You swear, the moment you release your own small sound (that you'll probably be embarrassed thinking about later), Taehyung becomes even more heated. He holds the sides of your face gently as if you're made of glass, but his lips say otherwise as they kiss you roughly.

Taehyung moves with you, laying you down on the couch so that he's hovering over you, carefully moving your legs with one hand to keep them from being crushed. All the same, he's keeping the smallest of distances between the two of you. Once you're fully situated, he finally takes the initiative to lay his weight down as his kiss deepens. You can feel the shock and sizzling heat traveling down to your stomach, making your head spin wildly— and obviously, Taehyung feels it too, judging by the low groan that breaks free from his lips.

"I missed you, Y/N." He breathes between kisses, transferring from your lips to your chin, to the side of your face, all the way over so he can take your earlobe between his teeth which sends shockwaves throughout you. How is he so good at this?

You agree with a hum, another small whimper escaping you as he continues his venture down to your neck.

"I mean it… I missed you so much." He repeats, pausing his movements to meet your lips again with a gentle kiss. He strokes your face with his free hand, the other clasped within yours (which you hadn't even noticed they were intertwined until now). "I miss you."

There's a break in his voice, and the slight tremble of his lower lip is throwing you off. Was he about to cry? A second ago, he was devouring you, and now he sounds like a lost puppy. Bless his soul.

"I'm right here." You whisper, running your hand through his hair to push his bangs out of the way. You want to get a good look at him, make sure he's okay. You ignore the catch in his throat.

"I still miss you." He repeats.

It takes a moment before he shakes his head, laughing with a quiet "sorry" before he sinks back down to kiss you. You don't question him further. In fact, you're too busy freaking out to question him further. You don't know where it came from, but a sudden surge of boldness overtakes you, and you're reaching for the lapels of his jacket, shifting it slightly.

Taehyung doesn't seem to be thrown off and is quick to respond, sitting up to remove it and throw it on the ground beside the couch. He's no longer damp from the sleet outside, but warm beneath.

With another deep kiss and a dip of his hips (which is stealing all the remaining breath out of your lungs), he reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

Just when you're about to move his hands up in an effort to get this shirt off, he pauses. You squirm a little, wanting skin-on-skin contact as soon as possible— but Taehyung is frozen.

"You okay?" You question, heat rushing to your cheeks at the notion that he might be overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn't want this much of you.

You're such an idiot.

You hold your breath. "If you don't…" You begin, eyes running in every direction, "… if you don't want to, that's oka-"

"No, no. No." He shakes his head quickly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips… yet he still seems hesitant. "That's not it. Believe me. I want to."

You can feel your stomach flutter. He could lift one finger, and he'd have your heart soaring.

"It's just…" He pauses, breathing labored. "I have to tell you something… before this goes any further, there's something you need to know."

"What?" You whisper, eyes wide with concern. "Do you have any diseases?"

He laughs loudly at this, shaking his head which tousles his hair this way and that before he leans down to kiss your forehead. You're confused now… And horny. Not a good mix.

"Taehyung, just tell me already." You punch him playfully, hoping to resume this make-out session you've been waiting for for way too long.

He still seems nervous about continuing, his eyes wavering away from your questioning gaze. Every second he takes for silence is adding more nerves onto your chest… was it that serious?

"When I first met you…" He starts, licking his lower lip (which you've noticed is one of his nerve habits) before he finally meets your eyes. He might be slow-moving and sensual on the outside, but his eyes hold a deep churning of fear that makes the already evident goosebumps on your arms a bit more painful. "When I met you that day at the cafe… That wasn't the first time I met--"

Before he can finish, your phone rings. Blaring loud. You're annoyed for a moment, wondering who the hell was trying to get in touch with you at this specific time, but as soon as you see the name on the phone screen, you nearly pass out.

Hyun Do-yun, Film Out Theatre

Holy shit.

The audition. The video audition you sent for the West End audition.

You gasp loudly, reaching desperately for your phone on the coffee table. Taehyung is still hovering over you with curious eyes-- you would give anything to hear what he was going to say… but this call was way too important.

"Can I… It's a theatre opportunity." You whisper, unable to hide your nerves. Your heart is beating full force, just like it was a second ago when Taehyungs lips were on yours.

He nods quickly, smiling at you while he plays with the ends of your hair, keeping himself busy when you finally pick up the call.

"Hello?" You speak softly.

"Hi! Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" A voice of a middle-aged man speaks back.

"Yes, this is." You nod, glancing at Taehyung. He's looking at you fondly, continuing to play with your hair. So patient. Your heart swells.

"Perfect! This is Hyun Do-yun from Film Out Theatre Company! I'm calling regarding your audition for 'The Eternal'? I just wanted to let you know that we've accepted you for the in-person auditions on December 16th! Are you still able to be in London by then?"

You freeze, eyes locking wide on Taehyungs, which he seems to catch your surprise and is looking at you with a questioning stare. There's no way this could be happening. There's no way you just made out with Kim Taehyung, and now you're getting this call. There's absolutely no way. Your heart feels like it's about to combust, and it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings before you respond.

"Wow.. That is-! Wow, thank you!" You sputter, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm absolutely available; thank you so much."

"Perfect! I'll email you all of the information regarding callbacks, and we'll see you on December 16th!" He chuckles; a shuffling of papers is heard on the end of the line.

"Awesome. Thank you so much again!" You can't contain your smile, closing your eyes in glee before he finally says goodbye and hangs up the phone.

It takes you a moment to truly come back to your senses, the aura of warmth from Taehyungs body hovering above yours finally shaking you from your resolve. Still, he's looking at you with curious and elated eyes at the smile on your face… he must know it's good news!

"I got the callback, Tae." You choke out, excitement bubbling in your throat and causing your words to come out in nearly a squeak.

"What's the call back for?" Taehyung questions.

Oh right, you never even told him about this one— while you were too busy being an idiot and not making a move.

"It's a West End production called 'The Eternal'!! The lead role, Taehyung. The lead role!!"

His veiny hand that was previously playing with the ends of your hair hesitates for a split second, and a flash of something crosses his face. If he didn't immediately start smiling and shaking you with excitement, you might have asked him what that initial look was for-- but you're suddenly too overcome with excitement to care anymore.

"Y/n that is-- amazing." Taehyung beams, deeming it necessary to reward you with a quick peck on your lips. Every time he touches you, the previous thoughts of the audition-- what you were going to wear, your makeup, everything-- all of that seems to waver away in a fraction of a second. All you can think about is the fact that Kim Taehyung is on your couch, practically straddling you and kissing you as if you've always been his. As if this was something he was used to doing daily. If it weren't for your awareness of when you met him, you would probably think that he's known you for most of your life.

Despite the almost embarrassing fact that you're leaning in again to resume the kiss, he pulls away a bit with a smile.

"Woah, slow down. I want to know more about that audition." He's chuckling at your disappointed expression before you're flying through the details of the aforementioned audition. You tell him about the night that you got the email, how Kim Namjoon was the one who reached out to the director and gave you a good word. Taehyung sits quietly as you explain, his hand holding yours as he denies having anything to do with the fact that Kim Namjoon received a video of you singing. You don't believe him when he says that it wasn't him, but you continue anyway.

It may be in your imagination, but the more you speak of the audition, the more Taehyung seems to remove himself from your embrace. At the moment, you don't think anything of it. He's probably more intrigued that you, of all people, are receiving this kind of opportunity rather than the fact that the two of you were making out merely minutes ago.

"Wait..." You scoot up a bit, removing Taehyung completely from lying above you-- seating yourself across from him on the couch. "You we're going to say something to me before I got the call."

Taehyung freezes for a second, glancing at you before he quickly rushes out with a response. "Actually, it's not important."

You give him an "I don't buy it" look.

"Seriously, it was nothing." He insists with a laugh, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. He must know that touching you has a noticeable effect on your ability to function, especially since your eyes are falling to where the skin-on-skin contact occurred. Still, you press on.

"Taehyung, it was obviously not nothing..." You deadpan. "It took you a minute to even get the words out."

"Yeah! Because it was so stupid and didn't need to be said." He counters.

"You're a terrible liar." You respond.

Taehyung narrows his eyes towards you, pretending to be hurt by your comment.

"Come on, Tae, just tell-" But before you can fully get the words out, he leans over and lands a peck on your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours before he pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face.

You can feel your cheeks heating up, a small smile forcing its way onto your lips... This guy is dangerous. Despite this, you can't help but realize how wonderful it is to think about the fact that he could kiss you at any moment. That he wants to kiss you and hold you in the way that you've been hoping for for months. He has no idea how long you've waited for this.

He chuckles at your dazed expression, sighing quietly. "You should probably get some sleep... You have a shift tomorrow."

You stare. "How did you know that?"

Taehyung pauses. "You.. You always work on Fridays, right?"

You nod before throwing a grin his way, raising your hand to his wild hair that's grown wilder after your little rendezvous. "I guess I have a stalker now."

He looks at you incredulously, removing your hand from his head of hair with a quiet "am not." The two of you share a smile, enjoying the peacefulness that encompasses the room before he's finally raising himself from the couch. He's grabbing his things before you finally attempt to stand up with him-- and yet, he immediately stops you.

"Now, now. Your precious West End feet should never touch the floor again!" He says spiritedly, delicately placing you back onto the couch with a kiss. "I'll see myself out, okay? Get some rest."

You don't fight with him, enjoying his dramatics. He's making his way towards the door when he turns to offer you one last smile, blowing a kiss your way before he's disappearing out into the hallway.

For a second, you think that maybe this was just another dream. This whole night could not have happened... it was just way too unrealistic. Yet, here you were. After thousands of pinches later to make sure you were conscious, your eyes meet Taehyungs discarded beanie on your small dining table. He forgot it.

It's winter... he's going to freeze.

Without a second thought, you're leaping up towards the table, snatching his beanie while bounding towards the door to catch him.

Before you can fully leave your apartment entrance, you halt in your tracks, eyes widening slightly.

Taehyung had barely gone anywhere. He's standing in the hallway, his forehead resting against the hallway wall, with his arms placed above his head. Before you can call his name, he makes a quick movement as if he's going to punch it... your breath catches in your throat when he turns into view.

Is he crying?

Why is he crying?

His eyes are red as he grabs a fistful of his hair in both hands, pacing back and forth between the sides of the hallway. He looks completely shaken up. He seats himself on the ground, curling his legs up. You can hear quiet "shits" and "fucks" escaping his mouth as he hides his face in his hands, throwing you off slightly since you've never heard him outwardly cuss before. If it weren't for your fear of confrontation, you would probably be hugging him by now. You don't want to disturb him anyway... not when he probably thinks he's alone. Moments like this need privacy.

The last thing you see is Taehyung picking himself up, closing his eyes together as he attempts to control his breathing before he's shakily making his way towards the door.

If there was one thing Taehyung was bad at, it was hiding his emotions.

But he was, almost scarily, good at keeping secrets.

next chapter

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[letsgivethisonemoreshot]

Vengeance Day

Summary: Pete and his girlfriend decide to switch things up this Valentine's Day. Inspired by his steel cage match.

Word Count: 1,307

Warnings: Slight BDSM elements, Smut, Language, badly written accents.

Author's Note: So, I saw this in the match the other night. And I haven't been able to get it out of my head. And some people encouraged me to actually write about the thoughts I was having, so that lead to this drabble. Hope you enjoy.

Pete Dune was usually the aggressor in any situation he found himself in. Whether it be in the ring or personal relationships. Except for tonight. Tonight, he sat naked, hands cuffed behind his back with zip ties on a stool that was usually at their breakfast bar. His back propped up against a support pillar in their house. Some of his rarely used ties threaded through his arms securing him to the pillar. His long hair partially hung in his face as he looked at his girlfriend standing in front of him. She was wearing the red lace lingerie set with the crotchless panties that always drove him wild. And even in this situation he still had a cocky smile on his face.

“Is this really necessary love?” He asked as he pulled his arms to no avail.

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we tried this?” Cassie asked.

Pete’s smirk grew as he thought about last time, they tried to switch things up in the bedroom and have her take control. He was sitting on the edge of their bed. Hands behind his back held with a pair of handcuffs they bought at a sex shop earlier that day. She had only been teasing him for about fifteen minutes before he lost control. He snapped the chain of the cheap handcuffs and had her pinned up against the wall with his hand around her throat and a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“Good times,” Pete chuckled.

“Yeah. That’s not happening this time,” Cassie said as she walked towards him before straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’ve been excited all day thinking about the things I was going to do to you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Where would the fun be if I told you? I need to keep a surprise or two up my sleeve,” She answered as she rubbed her folds across his hard member.

He moaned as he felt how wet she already was as she ground across his stiff cock. Pete looked down and watch as he slid in and out of her folds. The lace surrounding her lips only giving him more of a show. As Cassie slowly moved, she dug her nails into his shoulder, scratching down his chest. Whispering in his ear just how many pairs of panties she ruined that day just thinking about him.

“Fuck,” she mumbled. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to hold out.”

“Then why don’t you get on my cock and ride it baby,” Pete said in a low voice full of lust. “You know you want to.”

“If I wanted to, I’d do it. You’re my bitch tonight, remember?” Cassie asked as she yanked back his long hair.

Cassie let go of his hair and stood off of him, causing Pete to groan. Both at the loss of contact and the unusual dominant manner of his girlfriend. He watched as she walked over to their toy bag that she had brought out and left in the room. She bent over shuffling through it, but Pete wasn’t paying any attention. He was too busy looking at her ass that she was purposely sticking out. He was shifting in the chair slightly, though no matter how he moved he wasn’t going to get his arms free. Cassie stood up and walked over to him holding a mini wand vibrator.

“This should do the trick. Small and powerful. Just what I need for a quick fix,” She stated as she slid her fingers across it.

Pete forced a chuckle. “You really think that thing is gonna do a better job on you than I can?”

“Better than you? Of course not,” She answered while straddling his lap once again. “But will it still make me feel good while also making you squirm? Absolutely.”

As she finished her sentence, she slowly lowered herself down into his disk. She bit her lip as he slid into her deeper and deeper. Pete grunted under his breath. Cassie sat there for a moment, savoring the feeling of him inside of her. He however didn’t have the same patience she had. He tried to buck his hips up to cause friction, but she grabbed him by the hair again and pulled it harder than last time.

“No no. None of that. You need to sit still and be a good boy if you want to get rewarded at some point.” She scolded. “You better watch that mouth of yours too before I find a way to shut it up.”

Cassie threatened him as she switched on the mini vibrator, holding it against his chest and pulling it down his body. She brought it to her pussy, sliding it over her clit. Carefully that it wouldn’t touch Pete and end up giving him any added pleasure. Pete had a deadly gaze locked onto her, but she ignored it, getting lost in the pleasure she was giving herself. She brought her other hand down so she could spread her lips allowing the toy to better access to her aching clit. Cassie made no attempts to stifle her whimpers and moans. Making sure Pete knew exactly how good she was feeling. The toy was bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She tried hard focusing on not moving, because as much as she wanted to jump whenever it hit just the right spot, or move to feel Pete’s dick inside of her, she didn’t want him to feel that. Not just yet. It was becoming even more difficult as he began squirming underneath her. Seeing her mouth hung open and eyes rolling back in pleasure. Hearing all the noises she was making. Feeling her wrapped tightly around him. It was almost getting too much for him to handle. He wanted nothing more than to break out of his restraints, throw her down, and slam into her over and over. But instead, he could just sit there as her whimpers came closer and closer together. Until he felt her pussy clench around his cock and her juices drip out of her onto his lap. Cassie gave herself a moment to settle down before brushing the hair out of her face before slowly standing up causing Pete to throw his head back and groan.

“That should hold me for a little while.”

She knelt down onto her knees, pushing his legs apart slightly so she could get a better look at her work. His cock was glistening with her juices, precum oozing slightly out of the tip, and she could swear she saw it throbbing. She leaned forward taking a long slow lick up the length, as if she were cleaning off her own mess.

Pete groaned. “Cassie, I swear if ya don’t get back on my dick right now ya gonna to regret it.”

“Really Peter?” Cassie retorted as she looked up into his eyes. “I feel like most men in this situation would be promising nice things instead of threatening. You know, ‘Please if you ride me now, I’ll make it worth your while.’”

“Fine. If you don’t get that tight pussy back on my cock right now, I promise you, you’ll regret it. Betta?”

Cassie quickly stood back up and instead of answering him, she slapped him across the face. That was the single action that had set Pete off last time. When he turned his head to look back at her, his eyes had darkened with lust. Cassie could swear she heard a growl under his breath. But she just giggled as she watched him struggle against his restraints.

“Let’s see if we have something else in here that might change that attitude of yours shall we.” She said as she turned away and went back to their duffle bag.

[jiminrings]

hi OHMDHHD STEM KOO is the cutest and sulky stem!koo!!! r u kiddinggg. So What if jungkook sees yoongi eating off of y/n's lunchboxes and his mind just goes...

stem koo sees someone else eating from his lunchbox(s) and freaks out 🥺🥺! senior oc is like o_o! thank u for writing

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo’s so mad that he might pop a vein

“do i even wanna know what happened to you last night?”

yoongi grimaces at you first thing in the morning, his grogginess proving no hindrance in being annoying himself

you’ve woke up with no hangover at all because you didn’t go back to the party to get your fill, the fresh experience still a little new

“jungkook asked me if i could walk him home and i did.”

:O

you did wHAT now

sure, yoongi knows that no matter how ruthless you could be, you’d still go the extra mile if someone asked you to

but for jUNGKOOK?!?!

as in jungkook, the junior you have (maybe had at this point) a crush on, and have been making lunchboxes for a duration of two weeks?

also jungkook, the same guy who was a colossal asshole and have been more or less giving away the lunches you’ve secretly been making him??

THAT jungkook????

“y/n what do you have to say for yourself?” he gasps audibly, trying to shove at you but not without almost poking his eyes from pointing out the crusties

alright you expected this

you kinda deserve this

“buT he was like, two seconds away from a breakdown so i felt compelled to take care of him.” 

that bit’s actually true and kook was about to cry in the middle of a party right then and there

he would’ve also rubbed his eyes raw to the point that he’d forget he made the stupid decision of wearing his eye contacts!!!

“yeah, yeah, i understand that part!!!” yoongi admits and he commends you in all honesty, “but what if he misinterprets that?”

oh

you stop in your tracks at making a hangover bagel, attention clearly more piqued this time

“but there’s nothing to misinterpet..?”

LMAOOOO

ok maybe that’s where you’re wrong

yoongi scoffs at the question marks floating above your hand, scoffing even more when you still don’t get it

“no offense, but have you ever seen jungkook? he looks like the type to get attached too quickly. to the delivery guy. to a stain on the wall. to a laminated copy of his class schedule. he’d be a puppy sniffing at your heels in no time, y/n.”

>:(

“no he wouldn’t.”

......

uhhhhh

you, in fact, should probably listen to yoongi more

it’s monday and for the entirety of your day up until lunch, you’ve been getting stares at the back of your head!!!

you can’t see who but you kNOW that someone just keeps looking at you

you want to stare back to creep them off but you just!! can’t!! tell!! who!!

it’s frankly getting annoying and it’s making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up

“you’re the bEST!! you made me lunch and i didn’t have to beg??” yoongi exclaims when you slide a lunchbox towards him, hugging you by force when he sees that it’s his favorite rolls inside

lol cute

if only you didn’t view yoongi completely platonically and in a very repulsive way, he would’ve been your boyfriend by now

“yesterday. you didn’t beg yesterday and you only had to beg twenty times in the days before that,” you chuckle as he squeezes you, having to tug at his hair as soon as the hug started getting too long

man that is fREEING

you wipe off the imaginary crumbs he’s given you, scratching at the back of your neck when you furrow your brows in annoyance

“hey yoongi, is there someone behind me? jesus, someone’s been staring at the back of my head all day and it’s literally burning me.”

he’s been glancing up the whole time, cheeks full from the rice and it’s only when you call him out loud that he sTOPS chewing, head tilting automatically

yoongi actually starts chewing faster and that makes you THINK he has something to say, making you feel pressured nonetheless that you jostle him to get him to chew faster

jeez why’s he choking now

you offer your water bottle to him that he takes a longer than necessary sip from, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, only to nonchalantly gesture to the back of you

“you mean jungkook?”

huh

alright WHO now

listen

you have nEVER seen jungkook like this

BUT NEITHER HAS JUNGKOOK EVER SEEN YOU LIKE THIS

NOR YOONGI

NOR EVERYTHING LIKE THIS!!!

he woke up extra early and all because he was beyond motivated

and he even stayed up last night to search up crafts!!! 

origami box crafts to house your eyedrops that he was gonna return to you!!!

but tHEN he realized that the paper would quickly be ruined regardless if he puts them in his pocket or backpack

and so jungkook mADE a little drawstring pouch instead

but then it started looking a little too plain and a little too perfect that you’d probably think he got it from the store and that he didn’t make it himself!!!

SO NATURALLY

jungkook had to design it somehow and learn how to stitch on a heart!!!!

but what if that was a little too romantic for eyedrops?? :///

alright fINE

he stitched on an outline of a carebear holding the heart

bUT WHAT IF you’d think it was just a ratty hand-me down or something???

jungkook stitched on your initials on the carebear

..... hold on

is he even sure that those are your initials

fuck it

jungkook has an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch and a plain ol’ ziplock baggie in his backpack just in case

he devised a strategic plan on how to drop in the item at the last minute when he decides which approach to take after he finds you

a-after..... he finds....... you

is that..

is that his fucking LUNCHBOX????

THAT’S HIS LUNCHBOX???????

jungkook could literally see red

his yearly check-ups are all up to date but holy fuck absolutely NO ONE said that his blood pressure is capable of rising up like this

all he has is tunnel vision for his pastel blue lunchbox and the unfortunate blonde guy attached to it

he has NEVER walked this fast with so much purpose

he doesn’t even realize that people are going out of his path because sheesh they’ve also nEVER seen jeon jungkook from stem ever look this determined nor furious

he’s clenching his jaw so hard that he might not have to get his wisdom teeth taken out

“that’s my lunchbox.”

jungkook seethes from his teeth and the vein at the side of his neck is making the same appearance as his flared nostrils

he’s seeing red to the point that he doesn’t even realize that he’s seething at his senior, and even min yoongi at that

he’s seeing red and his blue lunchbox at the same time that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting rIGHT next to where he’s stood while he stares yoongi down

no one knows how to react actually

you’re too frozen, yoongi’s too appalled, and jungkook’s too angry

oh my fucking god

wAIT

it’s actually dawning on you that you’re about to get found out in front of jungkook and almost half of the entire university a-and-

“you think you’re the only one with the same blue lunchbox in the world?” yoongi recuperates from his shock and saves you as soon as he realizes the gravity of the situation when your eyes are wide and emotional instead of being narrowed and blank, “you’re not that special. think again, kid.”

yeah his tone might’ve been patronizing

but gOD yoongi is beyond offended

yeah jungkook might be a lil pissy bitch but he IS eating from “his” lunchbox or whatever

but never in a million years did he think that the kid would have some balls on him to approach him like that

fyi yoongi would nEVER come to his senior like that!!!! he wouldn’t even have the gall to come up and approach seokjin like that just some years ago!!!!!

jungkook balls his fists at that and he comes down off of the situation a little, but it never gets quite diffused

“maybe i’m not.”

his gaze lightened on yoongi but it’s still as hard as it’s skeptical, walking away wordlessly but not without sending you a soft gaze quickly

“but i know that sticking my nose to where it should belong is my specialty.”