#fanfifcs

[cardcaptorsakura96]

A Christmas Miracle-Chapter 1

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers, Ruby Arias, Santa Claus, Streaky the cat

Summary: After her last two breakups, Lena doesn't think there is love out there for her. However, will Ruby's wish to Santa make Lena a believer in miracles?

Lena stood in line scrolling throw her email on her phone. She sighed because she had finished all of her work emails and was bored out of her mind. She looked down next to her and saw her six-year-old niece Ruby still jumping up and down full of energy. They have been waiting in line for over an hour to see Santa. She was honestly surprised that she had this level of enthusiasm. When she was her age, she would have thrown a fit. However, Ruby had been the perfect example of patience and positivity. It caused Lena to smile. She wished that she had that level of positivity. With Lex trying to kill her constantly or trying to take over her company, she honestly was surprised she hadn’t gone insane. If it wasn’t for Ruby, Ruby's mom Sam, and Lena’s stepmother Lillian, she probably would have.

Lena was jolted out of her thoughts when she heard Ruby scream, “It’s our turn, Auntie Lena!”

Lena looked up to see Ruby sprinting to Santa’s lap. Lena chuckled and quickly followed. 

Santa pulled Ruby up on his lap and asked, “What is your name, dear child?”

Ruby beamed and said, “My name is Ruby!”

Santa smiled and said, “It is nice to meet you, Ruby. What kind of gifts are you looking forward to for Christmas.”

Ruby shook her head and said, “I don’t need you to bring me presents this year Santa.”

Santa frowned and asked, “You don’t?”

Ruby shook her head and said, “I need your help with something very important.”

Lena was startled. She never thought that she would see the day that Ruby would forgo presents. She was quite curious about what she considered more important than a Christmas gift.

Santa looked at her quizzically, “Okay, what problem are you having?”

Ruby turned to Lena, pointed, and said, “I need a miracle. My Auntie Lena needs help.”

Lena looked baffled and said, “Ruby, I don’t need any help.”

Ruby turned to Santa with a worried look on her face and said, “She is lying. She thinks that love doesn’t exist. I need to make her believe again.”

Lena chuckled nervously and said, “Ruby that isn’t true. I believe that love exists. I love you, your mommy, and your grandma Lillian very much.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at her. She turned back to Santa and said, “She’s nervous because she knows that is not what I mean. She doesn’t believe in finding true love anymore. Auntie Lena is awesome and deserves the best true love in the entire world.”

Lena started rubbing the back of her neck and laughing nervously. 

“Ruby, I have taught you that you don’t need to be in a relationship to have a successful life.”

Ruby pouted at her and said, “You are sad all the time now since Andrea left. When I sleep over at your apartment, I hear you cry in your room at night wishing she would come back.” She turned to Santa and said, “Please don’t bring her back into her life. My mom said that she is a bad word, but it does rhyme with witch.”

Santa tried to stifle a chuckle. Lena looked at both of them mortified. She always thought she hid her emotions well around Ruby, but clearly she was wrong. Her last two relationships nearly destroyed her. When she was in college, she had dated Jack for 4 years. She thought that her relationship with him was going well until he bailed. Stated that being around her was a hazard. By that point, Lex had tried to kill her three times. The third time Jack took a bullet that was meant for her that put him in the hospital for three months. She was devastated that he broke up with her, but at least she understood it. Being with her was a hazard, and while she was willing to be his ride or die, she understood him not feeling the same way. 

Lena stayed single after that for two years until she met Andrea. She was a force of nature that swept her off her feet. She constantly surprised her with trips, flowers, chocolates, and love notes. She felt so loved and spoiled. Lena wanted to spend the rest of her life with her and often was scared that it was too good to be true. And it was. A couple of months ago, a hysterical woman broke into her building demanding to see her claiming Lena stole her wife and destroyed their family. Lena thought the lady was nuts until she had her private investigator do some digging and found out that Andrea not only was married but had five kids. She was devastated. What made matters worse was that Andrea’s wife sold her story to a popular tabloid. Now Lena not only gets blamed for Lex’s shenanigans but she is considered a homewrecker too. As much as she hated Andrea, she still wanted her back and that made her feel terrible. She wished that she could get over her. She barely left the house other than to go to work because it was one of the few things that kept her distracted. That and baking. Her house has been overflowing with baked treats like bread, muffins, and cakes since she left Andrea. Today was Lena’s first outing somewhere other than work in over three months. She only came because Sam agreed to go to a conference she had been avoiding hosted by Morgan Edge in Metropolis. She said the major thing Lena would have to do was to take Ruby to see Santa. Lena thought it would be a quick trip in and out. Now, Lena was regretting that decision.

Lena forced a smile and said, “I know that I was sad, but I am doing much now.”

Ruby pouted at her and said, “No you're not. Sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want in a true love.”

Lena sighed. She was starting to become frustrated and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. 

“Ruby, dear. I don’t need anyone for Christmas. I am fine. I promise you.”

“No you’re not!” shouted Ruby while becoming teary-eyed. 

Lena was on the brink of tears. She knew that Ruby meant well, but this was all too much.”

“Ruby, if I sit on Santa’s lap and tell him my Christmas wish for a partner, will you drop this and never speak of this again.”

“Yes!” Ruby beamed. 

Ruby hurried up and got off of Santa’s lap so Lena could sit down. Lena rolled her eyes and gradually went to sit on Santa’s lap. 

“How does this work exactly?” muttered Lena. 

Read the rest on AO3

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Grief Stricken

Fives x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your perfect life is shattered into a million pieces after your beloved Fives is murdered. Overcome with grief, you decide to take out your revenge on the man responsible for his death. 

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fives, Rex, Fox

Tags & Warnings: established relationship, fluff, romance, kissing, cuddling, death, grief, mourning, funeral, hurt/no comfort, angst, alcohol, drugged alcohol, seduction, violence, revenge, premeditated murder, borderline dark fic, unhinged fem!reader

Word Count: 7.2k

Author's Note: Apologies in advance to the Fox girlies! I did not villainize your boy, but wrote him like any other military police type. That man is a victim too. I stylized this fic as a back and forth from present to past. So, if you remove all the pieces and rearrange them chronologically, the story would still flow correctly. Also, the last few scenes were written to "Cheap Thrills" by Sia, so that's the vibe there. Bonus, if you want to cry, listen to "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane (Rhianne Cover).

PLEASE DO NOT IMITATE. This is fiction and fiction only. If you or someone you love is struggling with grief, please reach out to get professional help!

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Fox

You stand speechless beside the open casket, staring down at the lifeless corpse inside, wondering how you arrived at this moment.

The morning light breaks through the curtains and gently wakes you from your slumber. You feel his warm body wrapped around yours in half-a-sleep snuggles as a pot of caf percolates in the kitchen. You nuzzle your face into his outstretched arm, breathing in his scent as he rustles under the covers. You wonder how you became so lucky as to have such a wonderful man like Fives in your life. He is your everything. Strong, brave, handsome, and an absolute love-bug. 

It’s a struggle at times, when he has to go on missions, but you always wait patiently for him to come home with hugs and kisses at the ready. He always greets you at the door with a big smile and squishes you as hard as he can without hurting you. You know he enjoys coming home as much as you do, and the time you get to spend with him is your favorite. You both dream about what your life together will look like after the war and come up with all sorts of grandiose plans.

You roll yourself over to look at him, his eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, and breathing softly. Resting peacefully without a single care. You smile and gently press your lips against his. It takes a moment, but he kisses you back tenderly while sliding a hand through your hair and behind your ear to pull you closer. You stay like that for a moment, lips locked in a loving embrace of pure bliss. As your lips finally part, you gasp and take in a much needed breath.

“Am I suffocating you?” Fives jokes with a small laugh as he props his head up with his hand. He looks lovingly into your eyes. You stare back into his glistening brown eyes. They’re deep and dark and would swallow you whole if they could.

“Just a little,” you giggle back. You scoot forward and nestle your head under his chin and breathe deeply. These are the moments you live for, the ones where it’s just the two of you and the rest of the world isn’t allowed to intrude. At this moment, it’s just you and him. No war. No missions. No fights. No weapons. Just two people madly in love.

Fives is the first to pull away from the embrace, but gives you another small kiss for good measure. He pulls back the covers and playfully flops them over your head before getting out of bed. He laughs as you claw at the heavy blanket to try and escape. You struggle your way out from underneath the blanket only to find your hair has become a static mess. You blow a piece out of your face and pout at Fives who thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. 

“What’s that face for?” he chuckles and folds his arms.

You shake your head and smile. “Nothing.” You flop backwards onto the bed and roll onto your side to watch as he starts his morning routine. It’s the same procedure every day, but you never get tired of watching him do it. It’s the regimented soldier in him that makes it so automatic, and you find an odd comfort in the small consistency it brings to your rather inconsistent life.

“I have to leave for Ringo Vinda today,” he reminds you while pulling his blacks over his head. “Shouldn’t be a long mission.”

“So soon?” you question with disappointment. You crawl to the edge of the bed to get closer to him. “You’ve only been back for two days.”

“You know war, darling,” he soothes while walking back over to the bed. He bends over and plants a kiss on your forehead to reassure you. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and prop yourself up to lean into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, resting his head atop yours, and slides his warm hands across your back. Goodbyes are hard, especially during war. You never know if he’ll come back or not, but you try not to worry. Fives is a smart and capable soldier. He won’t do something as dumb as dying. At least, that’s what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night.

He lifts his head off of yours and tilts you back a little so he can see your face. He brushes your hair behind your ear and asks. “Do you want some caf before I go?”

“Yes, please,” you smile as you slip down from his arms and sit back down on the bed. 

You watch him walk out of the room and soon you hear the clink of ceramic as he pulls two mugs out of the kitchen cabinet. The strong aroma of freshly brewed caf fills your home. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, enjoying the blissful moment. You look around the room and think about the life you’ve made. Then your eyes land on his helmet sitting in the corner and an idea pops into your head. You peek out of the room to see if he’s coming and quickly grab it.

“One mug of caf as ordered,” Fives sings while walking back into the bedroom. He briefly pauses, puts the mugs down on the vanity, and places his hands on his hips while raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“ARC trooper 5555 reporting for duty, sir!” you announce with a sloppy hand salute as the oversized helmet bobbles around your small head. 

Fives snorts and brings a hand up to cover his mouth before bellowing out in laughter. You love it when he laughs. He doesn’t laugh often, at least not since Echo’s passing, but every once and a while you can rile him up into a good fit. He bends over and holds his stomach as laughter-filled tears form in the corner of his eyes. You aren’t sure what is so funny about this particular instance, but it doesn’t matter. He’s laughing and it warms your heart.  

“Give me that,” Fives demands playfully while walking towards you, still chuckling to himself at your ridiculous imitative display. He reaches out a hand to grab the helmet off your head, but you place your hand over his to stop him. He pauses, frowns, and lets out a soft sigh. He gently pulls the helmet off your head, revealing what he expects, your teary eyes. “Oh, darling,” he soothes while wiping one of the tears away with his finger.

“I’m going to miss you,” you confess while wiping a few new tears away as you attempt to compose yourself. You want to be strong for him, but sometimes it proves too difficult to hold in.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he professes while cupping the side of your face with his gentle hand. He rubs his thumb against your cheek in tender sweeps.  

You lean into his warm caress and close your eyes. “Come back soon, okay?”

“It’s a promise,” he whispers and leans in to give you a soft kiss on your lips.

“You… You promised…,” the words get caught in your throat as you touch the side of his cold cheek. “You promised… to come back to me.”

You fall to your knees and sob. Your left hand is hanging onto the side of the casket while you rhythmically pound your right fist on the ground. You tilt your head back towards the sky and scream as the tears roll down your red cheeks. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You feel Rex’s hand rest on your shoulder as he kneels down beside you. He takes his other hand and silently grabs your bloodied fist, forcing you to stop. 

You turn your head and look at the captain with blurry eyes, pleading without words, why. 

The days go by slowly as you wait for Fives to return. You busy yourself, of course, to keep from going crazy. Your job at the diner helps, but you still find yourself daydreaming, waiting for the moment you're back in his arms safe and sound. When you’re not working, you stop by some of your friend's houses to keep you company. Their men are usually off on missions too, so it’s nice to be around people who understand what you're going through. 

You laugh, eat, and play games to pass the time. Sometimes you’ll talk about Fives and how amazing he is, and sometimes you won’t mention him at all. Other times you and your friends will gossip about new clones arriving on Coruscant and wonder what their nicknames are. Still, more times than not, you and your friends will go shopping to keep up your spirits. As you go through one store, you see a little arc trooper doll on the shelf and immediately buy it. 

When you arrive home, you rustle through your drawers pulling out markers and grab the picture of you and Fives off the bedside table. You glance at his armor in the photo and look down at the doll and think it will be easy enough to replicate. You pop the cap off the marker and get to work adding the correct colors and markings that adorn his armor. The Hevy insignia proves difficult and looks more like a blob than a rotary blaster cannon, but you shrug and keep going.

When finished, you place the little Fives doll next to the photo on the bedside table. You look at the doll and the photo and smile brightly. You can’t wait until he gets back from his mission so you can show him your handiwork. You think he’ll probably laugh and say something like, ‘Is that supposed to be me?’ You chuckle at your thoughts and let out a content sigh. You love this life the two of you have built together, and you love him more and more as each day passes.

“Goodnight, my love,” you say as you kiss your finger and place it against the photo. You smile longingly at it one more time before turning off the lights and slipping into bed. You wrap the covers around you tightly, wishing it was Fives instead of the blanket, but you know he’ll be home soon. Eventually, he’ll come bursting through the door, loud and obnoxious as ever, scoop you up into his arms, toss you onto the bed, and shower you with love and affection.

“Tell me why, Rex,” you cry while rocking back and forth on the ground.

Rex doesn’t respond, but tightens his grip on your shoulder as his hand holding your bloodied one begins to tremble. He leans his head against yours and whispers. “I wish I knew.”

“He wasn’t supposed to die,” your breath catches between your sobs and you turn your face to look at him. Your tear-stained eyes lock into his as you trade emotions.

“I know,” Rex answers with a barely audible voice, straining to formulate words as they drip from his lips in a cacophony of grief.

“He said he’d come back,” you sob harder as your voice cracks under the weight of your unabated emotions. 

“I… I know,” Rex barely gets out as he attempts to console you through shattered breath.

“Why did you let him die?” your breath catches again as you realize the implication of what you said. You know it isn’t Rex’s fault, but your mind is a jumbled mess of anguish and anger.

Rex lowers his head and swallows hard. He chokes on his words as tears form in his eyes. He can barely speak, but he finds the words somewhere in his mind and forces them out. “I didn’t have a choice.”

You hear a knock at the door. Putting your holo-book down on the bedside table, you walk up to the door and open it half expecting it to be Fives surprising you that he’s back home. However, when you open it, your smile quickly fades. It’s the Coruscant Guard. Your heart begins to race. What could they possibly want with you? Why are they here? You haven’t broken any laws or done anything to raise suspicion. You stare nervously at the intimidating commander in red. 

“Can I help you?” you ask with caution while hovering your hand over the door-button in preparation to close it. 

“Where is ARC-5555?” the commander demands as he pulls out a holoprojector and displays a hologram of the arc trooper in question.

Fives? Why are they looking for Fives? You shrug and tell the commander what you know. “He’s on a mission to Ringo Vinda. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Ma’am, please step aside,” the commander orders as he forces his way into your home. You resist and try to close the door, but his strength overpowers you.

“Hey!” you yell as he tosses you aside into the hallway. “What do you think you’re doing? This is my home!”

“ARC-5555 is AWOL and wanted for crimes against the Republic,” Commander Fox states as he hands you a datapad with the warrant and signals the rest of his men to enter your home. “Withholding vital information toward his capture will make you an enemy of the Republic and you will be brought up on charges for treason.”

“AWOL? Crimes against the Republic? Treason?” you repeat in disbelief as you watch more red clone troopers file into your home. You put the data-pad down and refuse to look at the details of the warrant. “There must be a mistake!” you exclaim as you come to his defense. “Fives wouldn’t do any of that. He’s a good soldier!”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” the commander begins while getting in your face. “Where is ARC-5555?”

“I told you already,” you plead as anger fills your voice. “I don’t know! He hasn’t been back since he left for Ringo Vinda.”

The commander grabs your arm, pulls you to the kitchen table, and forces you down in one of the chairs. “Stay here and don’t move.”

You sit at the table, watching as these unfamiliar red-armored clones ransack your home. They pull out everything in your drawers and cabinets, all your papers, all your things, and dump them out on the ground with blatant disregard. Your blood boils and you wish you can do something to make them stop, but you know resisting will only get you arrested. If that happens, you won’t be able to get to the bottom of these outlandish allegations.

The guardsmen start calling out ‘all clears’ as they canvas each room in your house, but as they head to your bedroom you take action. You don’t want them handling your personal items, grabbing your clothes, breaking your memories, or touching anything that belongs to Fives. You get up from the table and run into the bedroom only to see it’s already trashed. One of the guardsmen has the photo of you and Fives in his hands and you lunge at him to take it back.

“I told you to stay put!” the commander yells as he grabs your arm. He drags you back into the kitchen and slams you back onto the chair. You let out a yelp as you hit the chair with a thud, a bruise already forming on your arm from where he gripped you.

“Stop it!” you yell, pleading with them to leave you alone. “Please! He’s not here.” You start crying, clutching the photo to your chest to find some form of safety.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Captain Rex exclaims as he walks into the open doorway to see you crying at the table. He rushes over to you and grabs your chin softly to pull your eyes up to look into his. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. He lifts up your arms and moves his head around to look you over. “Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head and sniffle as the tears continue to roll down your face. Your tears anger the captain and he stomps off to confront the commander. “Fox!” he shouts while getting in the commander’s face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“My job,” Commander Fox retorts, refusing to back down at the captain's harsh tone. “There’s a dangerous fugitive that needs to be found.”

“Well, obviously he’s not here,” Captain Rex articulates while gesturing his hands around the empty room. “But you have made quite the mess, so I suggest you and your men leave.”

“Careful captain,” Commander Fox begins while getting in Rex’s face. “You may have a reputation on the battlefield, but here, on Coruscant, I’m the one in charge.” 

“I’m asking nicely,” Captain Rex sneers while closing the already short distance between their faces. 

Commander Fox huffs and continues their staredown, raising the tension in the room to a whole new level. “Alright boys,” he finally calls out to his men. “Clear out, he’s not here.” 

As the Coruscant Guard leave your home, you sit in bewilderment at the table, shaking and paralyzed from the terrifying encounter. Rex pours you a cup of water, sets it down, and sits at the table beside you. You both sit in silence for a moment. The only noise that can be heard is your soft sniffles as you try to process what is happening. You don’t know what to think and you’re too afraid to ask Rex, because you know he'll never lie to you.

Finally, Rex breaks the silence. “It’s true that Fives is missing.” He sighs heavily before continuing to explain what he knows. “There’s talk going around that he made an attempt on Chancellor Palapatine’s life.”

“That’s a lie!” you counter fiercely. “Fives wouldn’t do something like that and you know it.”

“I know,” Rex agrees as he traces circles on the table with his finger. “But it doesn’t change the current public perception or what’s happening because of it.” He pauses for a moment, scrunches his lips, and begins to speak again. “I have to ask,” he starts cautiously. “Has he tried contacting you?”

“No,” you answer adamantly, the question annoying you. “I haven’t heard from him since he left for Ringo Vinda.”

“I believe you,” he assures while putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Would… Would you like some help cleaning up?”

You nod your head and Rex gets up to start picking up the pieces of your newly destroyed home. He grabs the papers strewn across the floor and piles them neatly on the counter, then grabs a broom from the closet and starts sweeping up the broken dish pieces. Meanwhile, you continue to sit at the table in shock and disbelief at what has occurred. Your mind struggles to process any of it. All you want is for Fives to come home and fix everything.

You snap out of your brain fog when you feel a soft hand touch your shoulder. You flinch and glance up to see Rex looking at you with sympathy. “Do you want to pick up the bedroom?” he asks. “I don’t want to intrude into your private things.”

You take a deep breath and nod while getting up from your chair. Rex helps steady you on your feet and you nod again for him to let go. The transaction between the two of you is silent, but full of emotion, care, and concern. There are no words of comfort at this point. Your whole world is crashing down on you and there’s nothing either of you can do to stop it. You wonder if Fives will ever come back home, but you quickly shake your head to dismiss the intrusive thought.

You slowly walk into your bedroom, sweeping your head from one end to the other and sigh as yours and Fives’ things are strewn about in disarray. You walk through the littered floor towards your bed and think about the last time you were with him. You curl your lips as you try not to cry. Looking beside the bed you kneel down onto the ground and pick up the little Fives doll that was tossed so carelessly on the floor. You clutch it to your chest and weep in silence.

“Come on,” Rex whispers as he gently tugs on your shoulder. “It’s time to go.”

“No!” you yell as you throw yourself across the casket, clutching at it in desperation. “I’m not leaving without Fives.”

“Please,” Rex pleads as he fights the tears forming in his eyes while nudging you to get up.

“No!” you sob and cough through your words. “He needs to come home!”

Rex lets his tears fall unabated as his voice cracks. “He’s… He’s not coming home.”

“No!” you scream while pushing Rex away. “I'm not leaving without him!”

“I’m sorry,” Rex laments while pulling at your waist to drag you away from the casket. You kick and flail and scream for him to let you go. The heartbreak emanating from your voice is excruciating. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers through his tears.

“He needs to come home!” you continue to wail, desperately fighting against Rex’s grasp as he finally picks you up and begins to carry you away. “He promised me he’d come home!” 

You slam your fists against Rex’s back. He grips you tighter. You stretch out your hands towards the casket, clawing out of desperation to get back to the man you love, but Rex continues to carry you further away. You watch in horror as they lay the lid down and lower him into the ground. Your agonizing screams fill the air as Rex struggles to maintain what’s left of his composure. The terror and anguish you feel as they shovel the dirt on top of him overwhelms you.

“Fives!” you call out desperately through your sobs. You wait for him to answer you, but an answer never comes.

Your reading time is once again interrupted by a knock at the door. You're still reeling from the last time you answered the door and you're cautious about opening it again. There’s a part of you that hopes it’s Fives. Actually, you want to believe it will be Fives this time. That he’ll walk in the door like he always does and explain that the accusations are false and he can come home. That your life can finally go back to some level of normalcy.

You open the door and to your surprise, it’s Captain Rex. Although, you get the sinking feeling that this isn’t a ‘Rex checking up on you’ type of call. His face and body language are unusually depressive. Your anxiety increases and your thoughts race, but then your stomach drops when he pulls Fives’ helmet around to his front. Your heart stops. You can’t breathe. The only time a helmet comes back without its soldier is when the soldier is dead. 

Rex doesn’t have any words to say and neither do you. He reaches out with trembling hands and places Fives’ helmet gently in yours. You stare at it, the helmet that you’ve seen so many times before. The helmet that Fives wore proudly as an ARC trooper. The helmet he decorated with the memories of his fallen brothers. The helmet that you so playfully donned before he left on what you would now remember as his final mission.

You run your hand across the face plate and reality strikes you like a searing knife to the heart. Your legs give way and you crash onto the floor with a loud thump. Rex tries to catch you, but his reflexes are too late. He kneels down beside you in the doorway and looks you over for any injuries. You don’t notice his gaze or his soft touches as you continue to stare at Fives’ helmet, clearly in shock at the news that still went unspoken.

After several minutes of silence, you finally gain enough coherency to ask a single question. “What happened?”

Rex takes in a sharp breath and begins to explain the events on Coruscant's Level 1325. You listen as well as you can, not really understanding most of the military stuff. There is a part of you that doesn’t want to know and a part of you that needs to know. As Rex continues to speak, you pull out choice words from his explanation and let them float around in your mind as you try to comprehend any of it. Much of what is said flies over you as your mind shuts down.

At the story's completion, you ask another question. “Did he suffer?” You gently stroke the side of the helmet while you wait for the answer.

“No,” Rex replies while trying to hide his emotions. “It… It was quick.”

“Did he die alone?” you ask further, showing barely any emotion and refusing to look Rex in the eyes.

“I…” Rex begins with a slight strain in his voice, but he pauses and puts his emotions back in check. “I held him while he passed.”

You continue to caress the helmet, lost somewhere in your own mind, pondering everything that has been said and all the things that have gone unsaid. You break your own silence and ask one more important question. “Who shot him?” 

This time you turn your head to look Rex in the eyes. You want to know. You want to know his name. You want to know the name of the man who killed your beloved Fives. Your apathetic gaze visibly shakes Rex and he shifts uncomfortably on the floor. You can tell he doesn’t want to tell you, but you need to know. You can’t hope to move on in any sense of the word until you hear his murderer’s name. “You owe it to Fives,” you remind the captain. “Tell me his name.”

Rex sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. You watch as he mulls it over in his mind, his facial and eye movements clearly showcasing the options he is contemplating. Rex opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again, fighting the protocol to not release the information, but he eventually caves. “It was Commander Fox.”

You start to chuckle, startling Rex with your unusual response. You lean your head back against the wall and laugh while remembering your terrifying encounter with Commander Fox. “He was killed by one of his brothers?” you rhetorize while tracing over the helmet with your finger. You want to cry, but you can’t, so you let out your emotions the only way you can. “Killed by a clone… One of his own kind,” you snort and don a half smile. “How ironic.”

Rex tilts his head to the side and furrows his brow in concern. “Are you alright?”

You stop caressing the helmet and slowly turn to look at the captain with a sarcastic smile. “No.”

The days are all but a blur. You don’t remember much after Rex brought you home from the funeral. All you know is you’re back at home, laying on your bed, spiraling into grief's dismal embrace. You think Rex visited you a couple times, leaving behind food and a promise that the 501st will be there for you for as long as you need them to be. It must have been a sweet gesture, but you never paid attention when he spoke to you because your mind was miles away.

You lay quietly on your bed. What time is it? What day is it? How long has it been since you’ve eaten? When was the last time you opened the curtains? Is the world still spinning? Or is it just your world that came to a screeching halt? You wonder to yourself in the deep darkness of your once bright and life-filled home. Fives is the one that brought the light with him. Without him, what do you have? No one can replace Fives or the memories you have with him. 

Your scrapbook lays open on the floor, collecting dust. You’re not sure when you opened it, but there it sits, full to bursting with photos of the life you shared with Fives. Love letters poke out of the sides of the different folds of pages. He never wrote his name on them, just the number five. They always made you smile. There are lots of smiles, and laughs, and joys abounding in the still memories of the book. All your dreams. All your plans. Everything. It’s all been broken.

You rotate all your unanswered questions around in your head in planetary motion, revolving around one, then another, and then the next one. You never stay on one question for too long. That would prove to be too painful. And you try your best to stay away from the ‘what ifs’, but they never leave your mind for long. There is no reconciliation for the death of someone you love. No. That’s incorrect. There is no reconciliation for the murder of someone you love.

Murder. Now, that’s a word you let spin around in your mind constantly. What is it about this word that’s so intriguing? When did it become so important that it captivates all your thoughts? You think about the ‘how’s’ and ‘why’s’ of murder. How does one murder? Why does one murder? Is it just for threats? Is it out of anger or desperation? Yes, in desperation one murders another. The pieces begin to click together in your mind as the picture becomes clearer.

Your answer is there, amongst the grief. It lies amidst the dearly departed. The dead have the answer you are looking for. Murder is for those who decide it belongs to them. Could you commit murder? Could death's tight grip be commanded by your feeble hands? Can murder be justice? Can justice be murder? You ramble away in your mind at all the possibilities, when you suddenly see flashes of red dance across your vision. 

Red, the color of death and denial, but also, the color of the armor adorning the one who committed murder. The memories of the Commander come flooding back to your mind. You can hear the forceful words he spoke to you not so long ago. You can hear his pure disregard as he tramples on your memories. He’s laughing at you. He’s laughing at Fives. You just know it. How dare he. How dare he laugh at your sorrow, at your broken life, and at your dead lover. It’s disgusting.

Why does he get to laugh and you have to cry? Why does he get to live a free life, while Fives’ cold flesh rots away beneath the earth? You finally connect the dots as electricity sparks throughout your brain. You jolt up in bed and look around as if coming out of a daze. “Murder,” you mumble to yourself as the wheels turn. “A life for a life.” The immoral ideas begin to solidify. “I’ll repay him in his own currency.” you smile as you begin to develop your plan of revenge.

You pull out a data-pad and start typing out your ideas. You type something, delete it, then type something else, continuing the process for days. You think about all the different ways you can accomplish your goal. As the leader of the Coruscant Guard, he won’t be easy to take out. You have to be devious and underhanded with your methods. This type of operation will require more intelligence than power. You continue to type away on your data-pad, smiling at your own devilish genius.

At long last, after months of research, stalking, and planning, you have your attack strategy. The last Friday of every month the Coruscant Guard drops in to 79s for a night out where they relax, drink, and unwind with whatever beautiful lady catches their eyes. It’s the perfect ploy. You know exactly what time they’ll be there, where they’ll sit, what they’ll drink, when the commander will be alone, and how you’ll seduce him into your lustful honey-filled trap. 

Tonight is the night for you to execute your plan of sweet revenge. You turn the radio on, blasting your favorite music while dancing around the room. The lyrics fill your mind in preparation for the big night. Stepping into a hot shower, you let the water wash all your worries down the drain. You get out and peruse through your closet, sliding the hangers around until you find your favorite dress. Sleek and sexy, with a glittering shimmer, it was Fives’ favorite.

After slipping the dress on, you sit down at your vanity mirror, swaying your head to the music. You brush out your hair and arrange it in your favorite style. Next, you pick out a gorgeous set of earrings and a matching necklace to adorn your ears and neck. You then grab your make-up tray and apply your foundation and a bit of blush. To complete the look, you apply your eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and a bold lipstick. You smack your lips to spread it out evenly.

You look at yourself in the mirror with a satisfied smirk. There isn’t a soldier on Coruscant who can resist you now. You look over at Fives’ helmet sitting on the edge of your vanity and you smile fondly. You pick it up gently and kiss it, leaving an imprint of your lipstick behind. A giggle escapes your mouth and you put the helmet down. You give it a soft caress, then grab your favorite perfume and spritz your neck with it. This particular scent always drove Fives crazy.

You give yourself a satisfied nod and make your way back to the closet. You open the little hidden compartment and pull out a locked case. You input the combination and pull out the ELG-3A blaster pistol Fives gave to you for self-defense in case he wasn’t there to protect you. It’s a small and elegant weapon, easily concealable, and more importantly, can kill. You strap it to your thigh under your dress and turn to look at yourself one more time in the mirror. It’s time. 

Friday nights are club nights at 79s, which means the music is blaring and the bass is pounding. You enter the bar and the smell of alcohol and musk fills your nose. You see your target sitting at the bar alone, his bright red armor giving him away. As you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you want to drink and you respond with a simple cocktail. As you sit down, you catch the Commander glancing at you with mild interest, so you give him a small smile in response. 

“Put her on my tab,” the commander instructs with a raise of his glass. Perfect, you’ve caught his attention.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” you smile while turning your body to face the commander, crossing your legs seductively in the process. He puts his drink down and stares at your gorgeous figure with a smirk, clearly intrigued by what he sees. 

“I know a pretty face when I see one,” the commander asserts with confidence.

“And a connoisseur of fine women I see,” you point out with fake confidence to bolster his confidence.

“You live around here?” the commander questions as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Just got in actually,” you lie as you twirl the fruit in your cocktail with a toothpick. “I’ve had a long day and wanted a fun night out to unwind.” You pull a piece of fruit off with your lips, enticing him with your flirty demeanor. 

“Well,” the commander slams back the rest of his drink and motions to the bartender for another round. “You’ve come to the right place, darling.”

You force a smile at the commander's words, but internally you’re a raging storm. That particular pet name is not something you want to hear from his filthy mouth. That’s the name Fives called you. You flash back to the last time Fives said the word ‘darling’ and you try not to let the emotion get the better of you. You take a large sip of your drink to try and purge the image from your mind. You only have one goal tonight and you can’t let yourself get emotional.

“Easy baby,” the commander chuckles while watching you take the large swig. “We’ve got all night.” 

“You have a name, soldier?” you ask playfully while putting your drink back down.

“Fox,” he answers while staring at you lewdly. You can tell he’s getting a buzz and his mental fortitude is slowly slipping, but that’s exactly what you want to happen. “What’s yours?” he asks in return. 

“Ladies don’t kiss and tell,” you shoot back with a frisky smile and a wink. You can tell you're getting closer to trapping him in your web. A little more alcohol and a little more seduction, and you’ll have him right where you want him.

“We’ll see about that,” Fox challenges in response to your teasing. He slams back his drink again and gets up off his stool to get closer to you. He’s so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath and the heat radiating from his body, as his thighs brush up against you. He stares into your beautiful eyes with lust and smirks. “Come join me on the dance floor.” He flips his hand over for you to take hold of as permission to go with him. 

You look at his eyes and see the glaze forming over them. You prefer that he drinks a couple more rounds before progressing further, but the seduction piece of the plan is equally as important as the incapacitated part. A couple sessions on the dance floor wouldn’t hurt your mission. You bite your lip and look into his eyes. With slight hesitation, you grab his hand and accept the invitation to dance with him.

“At a girl,” he praises while guiding you off the stool and leading you to the dance floor. The music is blasting and powerful. You spend the next several minutes dancing with the man that killed the love of your life and you can’t help but think it’s disgusting. But, for the sake of the mission, and for your beloved Fives, you do it anyway. You let yourself get lost in the bass beats of the music as his foreign hands caress your body while you collide in feverish movements. 

You watch his movements carefully, waiting to see when the opportune time will be to pull him away from the crowd. You can feel his hands getting sloppy and his actions get less and less intentional. Of course, it did help that you paid the bartender in advance to slip a little something  extra in the Commander’s drink. It won’t be enough to knock him out, because you want him awake, but it will be enough to slow his reaction time to the point where you can deal with him without issue.

You continue to move along to the beat of the music, but when his hands get a little too wild for your own comfort, you decide now is a good time to break from the dance floor. You stop his hand before it goes where you don’t want it, lean into his ear, and whisper. “Why don’t we take this back to your place.” You feel his body shudder from your hot breath.

“You read my mind,” he agrees as he pulls your waist close and gives you a kiss. You want to vomit, but you lean into it passionately to keep from raising suspicion. He breaks the kiss and haphazardly pulls you through the crowd of people to the back door. The drugs are beginning to affect him the way you planned. You put on a devious smile as he ironically leads you to his own death.

The two of you stumble out the door and into a dimly lit alleyway behind 79s. The brisk air gives you a slight chill as it touches your sweaty skin. Fox sways a little, then stumbles into you, pinning you against the brick wall. You gasp at his weight and give him a nudge to get off. He props himself up with one hand and puts the other up to hold his head like he’s dizzy. He blinks hard a couple times and you realize the time is approaching.

“Are you okay?” you ask with a little sarcasm in your voice.

“I…” Fox begins as he continues to hold his head. “I don’t feel so well.”

“That would be the drugs,” you reveal with an evil grin.

“What?” Fox slurs as he stumbles back, fighting the urge to fall over. “Drugs?”

“Do you know who I am?” you ask as you turn around to face away from him. You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for what needs to be done.

He wobbles and blinks a few more times as he tries to focus on your face. “Should I?”

“You killed the man I loved,” you reveal as you turn back around to face the Commander with a maniacal grin. “And now, I’m going to kill you.”

“What?” Fox asks with shock and confusion. He goes to pull out his blaster, but it’s missing. Your plan covered everything. You conveniently took his blaster off him while on the dance floor and disposed of it. He was so enraptured by you, he didn’t notice you disarming him. Now he has no way to defend himself, making this an easy and quick job.

You pull the ELG-3A blaster out of the holster from under your dress and shoot Fox in the right kneecap. Fives taught you that trick to quickly incapacitate an attacker. Fox grunts in pain and staggers to the side, hunching over but still standing. You frown and decide to shoot the other kneecap for good measure. This time the Commander falls back onto the ground. You walk towards him while he attempts to drag himself backwards away from you, but he’s too slow. 

“Don’t do this!” Fox pleads for his life as you approach, pain dripping from every slurred syllable. 

The sound of his suffering invigorates you. This is the moment you have been waiting for. The murderer will now become the murdered. Sweet justice. The kind of justice needed during war. The kind of justice that can only be tasted by those brave enough to embrace it and its consequences. You place the muzzle against his temple and listen to him beg you for his life, but you simply smile at his pathetic pleas.

“For Fives,” you whisper as you pull the trigger.

Masterlist

A03

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[spicysix]

I'll be with you, when the roses bloom again

cheerscoops week - day two prompt: childhood friends to lovers/soulmate AU

rating: T warnings: no Upside Down, soulmate AU, childhood friends to lovers, temporary character death, panic attack, mention of drugs, oblivious steve, toxic stomarol, angst with a happy ending word cont: 4.3k

↳ read on ao3

Soulmates weren’t there when you were born. That was a fairytale, a romanticized version of it all, told so all the kids would grow up thinking life was all love and flowers.

It wasn’t.

Soulmates could be a bad thing. People you were destined to meet, no matter if their impact on your life would be good or bad. They would leave a mark, whether you wanted it or not.

You weren’t born with it. You had to earn it, take it, have it beaten into you.

It happened when it happened.

Steve had four for Tommy and Carol. One for each, for when they met, beautiful blooming flowers on his left shoulder. And one for each, for when they left him, putrid rotting weeds on his right shoulder. They had changed his life, back when he had just moved in to the house closer to Carol’s and she introduced him to that freckled little boy from the block down. And they had changed his life when they decided he wasn’t good enough for them anymore, or bad enough if you look closely into it. They had changed his life a thousand times in between those two, and Steve was glad his soulmarks for them were on his back, because if he had to see them every day instead of only when he purposefully turned his back to a mirror and looked over his shoulder, he thinks he wouldn’t bare how much he missed them sometimes.

He had a poisonous ivy leaf hidden by his hair and by the scar where Billy had broken a plate on his head. The biggest reason he still maintained his hair as long and coiffed as he did.

He had another blooming one on his left hand for when he fell in love with Nancy, and another dying one on his right for when she told him her love for him wasn’t real. He had another one, though, a secret third one right where his clavicle bones met, in the center of his chest, a fully bloomed flower in all her glory. One that appeared during the night after they talked the whole day, meeting their common grounds and finally understanding what went wrong and what didn’t, where they did right and where they failed on each other. After they could finally heal from their heartbreaks, and find a friend on one another — not as close as they were before, but a different kind of strong friendship anyway because Steve wasn’t Steve without Nancy and Nancy wasn’t Nancy without Steve.

The biggest one just under his heart for when Robin poured her heart out to him on dirty bathroom floors; and that was the first time he was grateful for a mark. He wished it had appeared somewhere in his body that he could show to everyone, so the whole world would know that he had many failed soulmates, but the successful one was the best he could ever ask for. He had a tiny one around the big main one for every little special time they shared, for every new revelation, for every new secret, for every time his soul felt happy and complete because he had Robin next to him.

The house next to Carol’s had a family that Carol hated. She used to say they were too perfect, all doll-looking, blonde hairs and blue eyes and skinny physiques.

Steve didn’t told Carol at first when he’d hang out with the girl she hated from time to time.

It started one day as he was leaving Carol’s house and, as always, he passed in front of the Cunningham’s home. The doll-looking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed skinny girl was collecting dandelions from her front lawn. Steve was eleven, she was ten, and that was the first time he thought he’d get an immediate soulmark and was left frustrated.

He looked at Carol’s house, glad to see she had walked back inside it already, and carefully approached the girl. A leaf crunching under his sneaker alerted her of his presence.

Blue eyes met Steve's.

“Hi?” she asked. Her voice was soothing, calm, a beautiful sound, a strike contrast to Carol’s shrieks. No wonder she hated her.

“Steve,” he answered dumbfounded. Her front teeth were charmingly crooked, he noticed when she smiled at him. “Me! I’m Steve.”

“Chrissy, me, I’m Chrissy,” she answered giggling and Steve couldn’t help but laugh back.

They just stared at each other for a while, Steve could feel his face burning and knew he was probably more red than the shoes she was wearing. Her hair tied into pigtails, and the whole image reminded him of Dorothy. He wanted to say more, but couldn’t find his voice.

After what felt like hours, he just pointed to a random spot to his left, waved way too fast and started walking. He heard her laugh as he kept going further away, and that kept the smile glued to his face, even through the embarrassment of not saying anything else.

He just left like a coward lion.

But he was there again a couple of days later, going home from Carol’s house, and she had green shoes this time as she was having what looked like a tea party with her stuffed animals. There was a lion amongst them.

“His name is Theo,” she said when she noticed Steve’s fixated stare on the stuffed cat.

“Theo, the lion,” he whispered back and she nodded.

His feet took him closer without him noticing, and he spared a look to Carol’s door. It was closed, she was back inside. It was safe.

“Steve, you, Steve. Hi!” Chrissy greeted him, that crooked smile that triggered Steve’s own lips to curl upwards.

“Hi, Chrissy… sorry about that… got nervous.” He shrugged.

“No need to be nervous. Do you want tea?” she asked, pointing at the (probably empty) tea pot.

“Uh… sure, yeah!” Steve answered. Chrissy’s smile widened, Steve’s smile widened and the world felt more colorful.

That was all it took.

Every few days, Steve would stop and play or chat or pick flowers with Chrissy on his way home from Carol’s. He would always look at the Perkins’ door to see if it was closed, and he would always ease up at Chrissy’s sweet voice, and he would always finally go back to his house feeling like he was stepping on clouds.

The Summer ended, the school started, he’d see Chrissy every day across the hallways and when Carol finally spotted him waving at the blonde girl, she threw a hissy fit. Steve talked her down, convinced her Carol was still his best girl friend, Chrissy wouldn’t replace her nor her blooming flowers in his left shoulder, and it worked. Carol wouldn’t talk to Chrissy, not ever, but she tried to hide her scowl when Steve did. Tommy just laughed whenever Carol complained, but he would also refuse to allow Chrissy into their closed group, and that was all very annoying in an endearing way to Steve. Or, endearing, in an annoying way. He couldn’t pick.

All the years kept passing, and in between fancy family trips and weeks being left alone the older he got, Steve learned how to keep his friends as close as possible so the soul-crushing weight of loneliness wouldn’t smash him to the floor whenever he woke up to an empty house. He could keep them all, Carol and Tommy and Chrissy, but as the years went by and he grew older and the hormones started working and the voice in his head — that sounded just like his father — spoke louder, three of them didn’t feel like enough.

Steve threw a party or two, but then he’d be the one to clean the house after it, so he resigned to just attend other people’s parties. He’d bring Carol and Tommy with him, always, but Chrissy wasn’t allowed yet, and he knew she wouldn’t enjoy them either.

It was like he was two different people.

He was Steve Harrington, keg stand king, someone the whole High School student body somehow looked up to. He got bitchier around Carol and Tommy, he even got meaner sometimes, but everyone around him laughed when he got that way so it was fine.

And he was Steve. Around her, he was just Steve. He got gentler, softer even, around Chrissy, and he got silly sometimes but she laughed with him and not at him when he did so it was fine. If he liked who he was with Tommy and Carol, he loved who he was with Chrissy. He’d teach her basketball, and she’d teach him collages, and they’d watch terribly produced musicals together, and bake delicious brownies that no one else got to taste because it was theirs. It was a little colorful world and it was only theirs.

He didn’t have a problem, exactly, that those two sides of him were so contrasting. He kind of liked being both. He loved Carol and Tommy, more than anyone, and he also loved that he got to keep a side that only Chrissy got to see.

Then came Nancy.

She changed everything.

She changed him, or he changed himself after her, and he was grateful for it. But in the same way Carol and Tommy tolerated Chrissy, they despised Nancy. Maybe because they saw, before anyone else including herself, that Nancy had a sharp edge under her softness. That she was bark and bite, that she wouldn’t take Carol and Tommy’s shit without fighting back if she had to.

And she had to.

It wasn’t a “her or us” situation, they didn’t put it like that, but Steve chose Nancy anyway. He chose who he was around her, the softness before only reserved to Chrissy that now Steve felt like he didn’t have to hide, and the eagerness to protect through sometimes mean words when necessary — not with fists, not like Tommy, never with fists. Nancy got along well with Chrissy too, and Steve liked it better now when he didn’t have to split himself into two. He could be just one, just Steve.

The blossoms on his shoulder rotted.

A new one bloomed on his hand.

Chrissy still didn’t have a flower of her own, and it never ceased to confuse Steve.

As fast as Nancy came, though, she went. A hurricane of changes, a storm turning his life around, a whole new Steve left behind and he couldn’t and he wouldn’t keep a grudge. They were just kids. They could figure it out later. They did, eventually.

The blossom on his hand died anyway.

Chrissy still didn’t have a flower of her own, and even if she and Steve’s paths weren’t crossing as much anymore for some reason after his and Nancy’s break-up, it was still confusing.

Steve graduated, no more seeing Chrissy every day across the hallways, no more stopping by her house beside Carol’s, daily phone calls turned into weekly ones, into monthly ones, into no phone calls at all until Chrissy still had no flowers and Steve missed her every day and had no mark to stare at in the mirror to torture himself.

But suddenly Steve had Robin, and he had Dustin, and he had Max. He got to keep them all, be just Steve, and he didn’t need any more. It was enough.

Chrissy had no one, and so she turned to Eddie Munson.

Robin called him at work, anxious to gossip about the Queen of Hawking High making a drug deal with The Freak, and Steve was immediately confused because, when had Chrissy become the Queen of Hawkins High, and why was she after drugs?

His head burned with it through the whole day, nothing good could be the cause of that, and the guilt eating up at his insides for being so estranged to Chrissy that he didn’t even know what could possibly be so bad in her life that she’d resort to drugs to fix it. He tried to rationalize his way through it, remembered Munson didn’t sell a lot of hard stuff, he was mostly a weed guy — god knows how much money Steve himself spent with Munson for party supplies, maybe Chrissy just wanted to relax a bit? Yeah, that should be it, no way it was anything stronger. She wouldn’t need that. She wouldn’t go there.

Steve had a date with Hailey, or Lauren, or whoever to the Pep Rally, and Chrissy looked just fine cheering through it, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Lucas scored the winning points, Robin scored a laugh from her crush, Steve scored a “this was nice but we should keep it as friends” from Holly/Letty/whoever.

And he told Robin he’d wait at the parking lot while she got out of her band clothes, and he basically ran to it just in time to see Munson and the rest of Hellfire leaving the school main building, but his eyes didn’t linger on their commemorations before finding Chrissy — subtly hidden by the shadows, but still visible waiting next to Munson’s van.

His feet took him closer without him noticing.

“Chris?” his voice scared her, wide blue eyes immediately finding his, no softness there, and he held his arms up in a non-threatening stance. “Sorry. Are you… How are you?”

She had a frown, her charmingly crooked teeth worrying at her bottom lip, unsure eyes searching for something in him because of course she didn’t trust him anymore. She had no reason to.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, a wave of many bad feelings running him over. He took a small step towards her, and then another, and he could see her fidgety fingers over her stomach. “I wasn’t a good friend, I-”

She interrupted him, “Can we not do this right now?” she asked, looking at something behind Steve’s shoulder. “Can we not do this today?” Her voice was still soft though, still trying to soothe him even if he didn’t deserve it.

He couldn’t help but look behind him, Eddie Munson standing from a safe distance, crossed arms, crooked eyebrow, waiting attentively. Steve let out a sigh.

“Can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, and she only nodded before looking back at Munson again.

Steve didn’t turn to see, but he listened as Munson walked around the van to the driver’s side, and watched as Chrissy stepped into the passenger side. He walked backwards, out of the van’s way and didn’t look away as Munson drove off. To his trailer, probably. To sell Chrissy drugs.

A hand on his shoulder startled him.

“Good to go?” Robin asked, a knowing look on her face that had Steve aware they’d have a sleepover, because he had a long story to tell her.

Steve woke up in the middle of the night with his phone loudly ringing and a burn in his chest.

“What the fuck?” Robin grumbled from beside him in the bed as he got up and ran to the corridor to answer the phone.

No good could come from a call that late into the night.

“Hello?” he answered, breath short, chest tight already.

“Steve… It’s Chrissy,” Max’s voice was watery on the other side of the line, and it took Steve a while to make the connection.

Max lived in the trailer park.

The same trailer park as Munson. She lived right across Munson’s trailer, actually.

Munson, who was supposed to sell drugs to Chrissy that night. Who took her, in his van, to his trailer, to sell her some kind of drug.

Steve’s heart was beating way too fast and it was burning and he didn’t know if he had answered anything to Max before he glanced down to his shirtless torso and stared at the right side of his chest.

A dead flower.

Not dying, not rotting.

A dead flower.

His soulmate had died.

Chrissy finally marked his skin with her own flower, a rose nonetheless, and it was dead.

Chrissy was dead.

A ringing in his ears.

His vision was blurry.

Was someone talking to him?

His chest felt tight.

It burned, his skin, but underneath it too. It felt constricted.

Was someone talking to him?

Sharp pain on the skin of his tights. Sharp like nails. Maybe his own.

Was someone talking to him?

A single drop of sweat running down his back.

A single drop of a tear running down his cheek.

“Steve!” Robin was talking to him. “Steve, you gotta breathe, please!”

Her hand was on his cheek, not the wet one.

His blurry vision went up her torso. He could see his flower across her left ribcage, under the top she was wearing as pajamas. His blurry vision went up her face. Blue eyes met his.

Blue eyes.

His vision went clear.

“Robin!” he gripped her wrist. It must’ve hurt her. “Robin, Chrissy, she-”

“Steve, listen to me!” Robin was crouching, but she dropped to her knees on the floor and didn’t care about Steve’s grip on her wrist. She kept holding his face, and her other hand went to his chest. His burning chest. “Steve, listen. You’re having a panic attack, you need to breathe.”

“But Chrissy-”

“Steve, in and out, come on,” she instructed him through it, breathed slowly in and exhaled slowly out with him.

Steve wanted to scream at her, Chrissy’s dead! But he had no voice, and no air in his lungs to do so.

He breathed slowly in and exhaled slowly out until his vision wasn’t blurry, until he wasn’t ripping his skin open with his fingernails, until he wasn’t gripping Robin’s wrist so tight. Her hands were still on his face and his chest. She was caressing him with her thumbs.

“There you are,” she whispered, a smile trying to fight its way to her lips. “Steve, you saw the dead soulmark and had a panic attack. I talked as fast as I could to Max before rushing to calm you down, she explained it. Chrissy’s in the hospital.”

The words made no sense.

“No, but, but- You said it yourself, dead soulmark Robin, how-”

“Steve.” He stopped talking at her stern tone. It was grounding. “Let’s get to the hospital.”

“You can’t drive,” he reminded her and she had that soft smile for him in response.

Soft, soft, soft. Always soft for him.

“Nancy’s here.” She nodded behind her.

Only then Steve saw his ex-girlfriend standing in the middle of the corridor, a worried look on her face, Jonathan next to her obviously not aware of anything that was happening. But they were there anyway. Steve still had them.

Chrissy had no one, she had no one but a drug dealer-

“Hey, no spiraling again.” Robin turned his face back to her, she knew him so well. “Let’s get to the hospital.”

Steve felt numb. He felt numb as Jonathan helped Robin get him to his feet, he felt numb as Robin dragged him to his bedroom to get dressed, numb through the car ride in Nancy’s station wagon, numb as they walked through Hawkins General’s doors.

Numb as Robin talked to Chrissy’s parents, numb as Nancy and Jonathan talked to Munson, numb even as Max came to give him one of her rare hugs.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, muffled sobs against his shirt.

“It wasn’t you, Mad Max,” he answered numbly. “I promise it wasn’t you.”

His chest still burned.

Steve had to sit numbly in the chair next to Munson, and when Robin noticed he was about to jump him and resort to Tommy’s old ways of resolving things, she sat between them.

“It wasn’t his fault,” she whispered. “Chrissy didn’t take anything.”

Steve numbly growled in response.

He had to numbly wait there, Robin by his side and Munson by hers, even after Nancy and Jonathan took Max home, even after Chrissy’s dad went to work, even after Chrissy’s mom went back to the house to get a shower or something. Her family, and they didn’t care enough to stay. Chrissy didn’t have them.

Steve sat there, Robin by his side and Munson by hers, as they waited until Chrissy could get visitors.

It felt like days.

His chest still burned.

He didn’t hear when the nurse agreed to let them in to see her, only felt as Robin dragged him by a hand and Munson by the other, up the elevators, down too many corridors, a white door on a white wall, white floors and white ceilings, and he could only remember Chrissy’s red shoes and Chrissy’s green shoes and Chrissy’s blue eyes.

They were closed as they entered her room. No blue eyes in sight.

His feet took him closer without him noticing.

He sat on a chair next to her bed. She looked so pale. Steve’s chest was burning.

Why did it take him so long?

He finally had Chrissy’s soulmark, it was a rose, but at what cost?

It was a dead rose.

“She was convulsing,” Munson started talking, from the other side of the bed, and Steve tore his eyes away from Chrissy to look at him as he explained. “I took her to the trailer, she wanted ketamine, I had it in my room and when I went back to the living room she was already on the floor, I-”

“Eddie, breathe.” Robin was saying that a lot that night.

“I ran out the door, I didn’t know what to do. Red saw me, thankfully, and she was the one to call the ambulance as I just stood there in shock. Didn’t to anything. Fucking coward.” Munson’s last sentence was whispered, but the room was so quiet Steve heard it anyway. “It took the ambulance too long, and neither me or Red knew what to do to help her, just turned her sideways, but it took too long. By the time they got there she was crossing the line.

“She was dead for two whole minutes. They got her to the ambulance, used the defibrillator, her heart started again but they don’t know if she’ll have permanent damage from how long her brain was out of oxygen, or whatever.”

Munson ran his hands through his face, messing up his bangs, fingers visibly shaking, his knee nervously going up-down, up-down, up-down, up-down, up-

“Why did she wanted ketamine?” Steve heard himself asking. 

Munson’s big eyes met Steve’s. They were brown. “I don’t know, man. She said in the woods she was losing her mind. Red said she saw Chrissy leaving the counselor’s office looking bad, and that she had some sort of break down in the bathroom? I don’t know, man.”

The room went silent again. Steve’s eyes searched for Chrissy’s blue ones, but they were still closed. His chest was burning.

“I have a dead rose on the right side of my chest now,” he said. He could feel Robin’s and Eddie’s eyes on him. “I know Chrissy since we were middle schoolers, and she was one of my best friends. Back when I was an asshole, before Nancy, she was the only one I could be my true self around. I went soft for her. I liked being soft for her. I never noticed.

I always wondered why she never had a mark. Carol and Tommy do. Nancy. Even Jonathan Byers. Robin has a whole bunch. Dustin, Max. Fucking- Billy Hargrove.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. His chest was burning. “Chrissy never got one. She’s got a dead rose now.” He turned to face Robin. Not the blue eyes he wanted to see, but comforting blue nonetheless. “The only flower I know. Roses are for romantic soulmates, the permanent ones, as cliché as they could be. ”

“I know,” Robin whispered.

“I only got her when she died?” Steve asked, Robin’s blue eyes soft on him. Always soft.

“She’s not dead, Steve. She’ll wake up.”

Steve sighed and looked back at Chrissy in the bed. She almost looked like she was just sleeping. But the lack of pink in her cheeks denounced her. He could only think about red shoes, brave brave Dorothy and her two coward Lions.

At least she had them, now.

Eddie’s leg was still bouncing up-down, up-down, up-down. Robin’s right hand was holding Steve’s left one, and her left one was resting right beside Chrissy’s leg.

She had them, now.

Steve had her, now. It took him way too long, he was almost way too late, but he had her, now. He wouldn’t leave again.

Chrissy’s fingers twitched.

The beeping of the machine went a little faster.

She groaned, a beautiful sound, and her eyes opened slowly as the other three in the room held their breaths.

Blue eyes met Steve’s.

His chest stopped burning.

He could breathe again.

Two years later

Blue eyes met Steve’s.

Soft, always so soft.

“Good morning,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

She sighed, a beautiful sound.

“Morning, Steve.” His name like a prayer from her mouth.

Her legs intertwined with his, memories of all the other beautiful sounds she made last night and the night before, running through his mind. No barriers between their bodies, between their skins.

“I gotta call Eddie tonight,” she said, voice still slurred from sleep.

“Mm.” Steve looked past her naked shoulder, could see the trees outside the window of the RV, a soft breeze ruffling the leaves. They had to leave camp that night, Chrissy wanted to head south. “Yeah, it’s been a whole day, he must be worried sick.”

She laughed, a beautiful sound, and Steve turned his face back down to look at her again.

Blue eyes met his.

Her charmingly crooked teeth greeting him in a blinding smile. He loved her.

Her skin was warm against him, her hand on top of his chest. A beautiful, fire-red rose under her palm, a delicate golden band sparkling from her ring finger. He smiled at the sight. Traced the fire-red rose on her left ribs that he knew was his.

He had her, now. She had him.

He wouldn’t leave again.

[autistic-creature-appears]

Shadamy Week 2023 - Day 1 - Immortality

Shadow

I hated thinking about my immortality. Or, more specifically, the mortality of others. After Maria's death, I was more afraid than ever about losing the ones I loved. So I shut myself off, in order to protect myself. 

You can't lose what you don't have.

At least, it was like that until... she decided to become a part of my life.

Her name was Amy Rose, and... she couldn't be more perfect. She was sweet, gentle, and beautiful. She reminded me of Maria in many ways.

I don't know what kept me coming back to visit her. She was fleeting, whereas I was not. Why was I risking affection?

I was pulled out of my thoughts by that melodic voice. "Shadow? What are you doing?"

"Thinking, is all." 

I saw Rose approaching out of the corner of my vision. "May I join you?" 

"Sure."

She shuffled close and sat next to me, looking up silently at the starry sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She delicately whispered, her soothing voice washing over my ears. She was comforting in many ways.

I took a look up as well. "Quite."

We sat together for a little while until she finally spoke up again.

"My parents used to tell me something to provide comfort after my pet turtle died. They said that every soul lives on in the stars, looking down and protecting us. That they would be there every step of the way, and that we would join them someday and dance among the galaxies together. Sometimes I feel their gaze as they watch me."

She pointed at a constellation in the sky.

"I believe that cluster of stars is my parents. Whenever I'm lonely, I remember they are always with me, no matter what."

I was silent for a moment. "That's nice to think about."

Maybe I didn't have to avoid love after all.

--

Crossposted on Wattpad, Quotev, Neobook, and AO3. Ask for my username(s) there and i'll tell you (im just really tired rn)

[laceybarbedwire]

A new chapter of my Moon Nancy fic is out! 

In which Nancy and Robin see a movie, are both useless lesbians at each other, and Nancy is bad at pretending to be a human.

[bansheeangel]

Pela primeira vez ganhando hater por uma capa, de um shipp...

Descobrindo que não é o primeiro da pessoa kkkkkkkkk

Aí genteeeee

[jidblogger]

Sora in a She-Ra Creative Slump, not quite sure what to focus my writing energy on

[pretendrocketships]

Meet Me In Amsterdam

About: (SMUT) Shawn’s on tour but nothing puts you to sleep like he can  (facetime sex/dom!Shawn bc that’s my fav, sue me)

A/N: 2.4k of another dream I had because my mind is dirty also i live for pet names sorry in advance

Song: Meet Me In Amsterdam by RINI

--

You looked at your phone for the fourth time within the last ten minutes. It was three am and sleep just wasn’t coming, possibly because your hands have been shoved down your pajama bottoms for the last hour. When you couldn’t sleep, nothing put you to bed like a good orgasm, but having a boyfriend thousands of miles away did nothing to help your current situation. You wanted to go to bed, needed to, but you couldn’t stay asleep for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint. About halfway through the months of tour, you stopped bothering to check the time zones. If Shawn answered, he answered. If he didn’t, oh well. Your phone was in your hand hitting scrolling through your favorites tab in your phone, until you found Shawn. You dropped your phone on the sheets next to you, willingly your eyes to let you rest for a second while you listened to the sound of the Facetime ringing throughout the room. 

“(Y/N)? Baby, you there?” You jolted up at the sound of his voice, not truly expecting to get a response from him. You sat up and fixed your hair before answering. He smiled wide, oblivious to commotion going on behind him, with people zooming by and rushing to get things done. “Hi. honey.”

“Hi,” you said, smiling softly. It was good to see him. I mean, he looked amazing. He always does. Those little curls that flop in front of his face. The way his eyes lit up when he was excited. You were drifting, living in your own thoughts. So much so that you nearly missed Shawn snapping in front of the camera.

“Baby. Baby? You okay? You’re zoning out on me.” His laugh was the only sound to fill your dark, quiet room. That and the sound of your heart racing at the thought of him.

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you said, shaking your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling around in your mind. 

“What are you doing up?” he asked looking at his watch, “isn’t it like one in the morning over there?” 

“Actually, smart ass, it's three am.” You swear you saw his eyes almost pop out of his head, and you rolled your eyes. 

“(Y/N)! What are you still doing up then? Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?” His concern was cute, but not what you needed from him right now. You wanted him on top of you, hand around your throat, making you look at him as you fell apart all around him. Your silence made him shoot you his signature smirk. “Oh. . so that’s why you called?” You could feel his ego boost through the phone.

“C-can’t I just want to check up on my man?” With that, his smirk only intensified.

“Your eyes are pitch black honey, let up.” You let out a sigh, as if you felt the burden of pretending you weren’t horny being lifted. 

“It’s just, I can’t fucking sleep, Shawn. I was up watching Netflix. Then I got tired, but when I turned everything off, I closed my eyes but still couldn’t sleep. Then I tried putting a random tv show on, just for background noise, but I didn’t like anything enough to keep it on for more than a few minutes. Then I tried putting on that podcast I like, and that was working for a little bit, but then I was too focused on it and I just--I wish you were here to help, you always make me feel good” you whined out quickly. Just hearing you explain, Shawn could tell you were frustrated. He noticed you tended to act like this after he fucked you to the point of exhaustion. When he would make you cum over and over, he would scoop you into his arms and listen to you babble about whatever thoughts that were left in your mind. He knew he fucked you well when you would whine for his touch, so needy. Thinking about past memories with you had him about to sport a semi, so he excuses himself from the public eye and slips into an unoccupied room.

“How many times?” A look of confusion flashed across your face. 

“Wha-”

“How many times have you touched yourself” You whined. Out loud. The song went straight to Shawn’s cock, and he readjusted himself away from the camera’s view. Your eyes were closed just imagining him being there with you, punishing you for not asking him to help out sooner. “I’m talking to you, honey.” You swallowed and your jaw dropped. Shawn may be on tour, but Daddy’s home.  

“I--”

“Speak up.” You took a deep breath before continuing to address him, willing your eyes open for the first time of the night.

“S-so many times.” The laugh he let out reminded you of his hands on your ass, spanking you when you forgot to count.

“I asked for a number, honey.” Your face burned. You didn’t want to admit it. “Don’t make me ask twice, (Y/N). Even from this far away, you won’t like it if I have to repeat myself. You turned your head away from the camera, about to answer before you heard him clearing his throat, knowing what he wanted without having to hear it. You turned your head slowly back to his view.

“S-seven.” The fire you saw behind his eyes made you want to cry out. Fuck this tour. You wanted him. Now. 

“Seven times, honey? God you’re filthy. Have your hands even left your pants tonight?” He didn’t ask expecting an answer, but he felt a strange twang of pride when you shook your head no, unable to keep eye contact. 

“I just, I’ve tried everything!” you whined exasperated, your need for sleep seeping through every word. “I’ve played with myself and imagined it was you, edged myself just like you would if you found me touching myself without you. I’ve done it all, Shawn, and it’s not working!” You cried out. Even though Shawn is fully hard by now, he’s still attentive to the fact that you’re full on whining for his cock at this point. He thinks you must be floaty already, or close to it, driven mad by the need to get a fulfilling orgasm to put you to sleep.

“You just can’t touch yourself like I can, can you honey? No one can do it better than me. I know your body even better than you know yourself, isn’t that right, (Y/N)?” 

“Yes! Yes, Shawn. Please, I need you.” All of Shawn’s senses are activated right now. Your voice groaning in his ear is making his cock fatten up, but the way you beg for him without him asking tells him he’s going to need to fully take care of you, from start to finish. 

“Okay, honey. I’m going to talk you through this nice and slow, and then I’m going to sing you to sleep, okay?.” He doesn't get a response to this, just a velvety moan. Your eyes fluttering closed. Content with your reaction, Shawn begins his assault. “Where do I start, honey? It’s been so long. Remind me.” You gasp, as he forces you to remember all the nights you’ve spent tangled up in each other. 

“K-kisses.” He smiles, proudly. 

“That’s right, baby. I miss kissing all over your neck, dragging my tongue down your body. Fuck baby,” he laughs a bit, “It’s the middle of the day here and you’ve got me all hard.”

“Shawn, more.” You’re squirming in bed now, your memories getting ahead of Shawn’s speech. 

“You’ve got to tell me what comes next if you want more.” Your hand trailed down your body and stopped at your nipples. “Or show me, that works too.” He chuckled. His eyes were fixated on your hard buds, almost inviting him to lick them through the screen. You’re using one hand to pinch and twist your nipples, eyes closed fully lost in the fantasy that it’s Shawn working them for you. “Prop your phone up, love, wanna see more of you. And slow down, you know I like to tease.” You groan as you roll over and lean your phone against the lamp on the nightstand.

“Happy now?” 

“Watch it,” he threatens. “Play with both of them now, pinching then pulling at them, just like I do.” You settle on your back and run your hands over your body until you reach your nipples again, twisting until you cried out like he used you, then pulling at them. “That feel good, baby? God, I know it looks good.” At this point, you needed more, the pool between your thighs was starting to drip down your thighs and onto the sheet. You were about to start thrashing from desperation, Shawn knew just how to pay attention to your sensitive buds to make you drip with desire. “Ok hun, move your hands down for me.” You rushed to move your hands down. “Slowly,” he barked.You stopped and took a second to calm yourself down, while listening to the sound of him pumping himself. You trailed your hands up and down your stomach, just like he would, in between pressing kisses to special spots along your stomach. Your fingers ghosted over your clit, and your body jerked in response. “What are you doing?” his voice was hard, and the sounds of him pumping himself suddenly stopped. You turned to look at the phone with confusion. 

“You told me to--”

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself there? Did I tell you I could play with that pretty pussy? My pussy?” You were a moaning mess right now, his words sending a tingle straight to your clit. You tried to calm yourself down because if the second he let you touch yourself, you came? He would never let you live it down. “Answer my question, love. Did I tell you that you could touch?”

“N-no.” You felt your heartbeat everywhere. Your clit was throbbing, and it was beginning to become unbearable. 

“That’s what I thought, but since you’re so fucking needy for me, and you look so fucking pretty. I’m feeling nice, so go ahead. I know you’re throbbing for it, can practically see you drooling,” he laughs darkly. “Go on baby, rub your clit for me. I want to see a show.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and raced to press your fingers where you needed them most. You tapped your fingers against your clit, Shawn’s favorite thing to do to start. “Slow circles for me love, then figure 8s, you know the drill.” You listen to his voice guide you to the familiar feeling that was starting to brew in your stomach. Your fingers were moving faster as your chest moved up and down rapidly due to your labored breathing. 

“Shawnn,” you groaned, overwhelmed with how good it felt.

“Slip two in for me, honey. Need you to cum for me so I can get you to bed.” Even with his cock rock hard and slapped up against his stomach, he still was thinking about what’s best for you. Blood and love were pumping throughout his body, leaving his brain and heading straight to his cock. “Are you wet enough for that, love? Does me talking you to your orgasm getting you all slick for me?” You nod and speed up your fingers, chasing your orgasm. “Godd, I can fucking hear you,” he groaned out. “So fucking wet for me, fuck (Y/N), I need you wrapped around me like right now.” You hear him start stroking himself, the sound adding to how good you were feeling. 

“I-I’m close,” you warn him. You feel your body is ready to explode, sensitive yet alert from all the attention.

“Hit your g-spot, honey. Rub on it like I would if I were right there in bed next to you, feeling on your body, pressing you down on the bed so you had to take everything I was doing to you. Use your other hand and go back to your clit, rubbing it in tight, little circles and imagine it’s me running my tongue all over you.” He forces his eyes open to watch you follow his commands. “Faster, honey. I know you’re almost there. I can see your legs fucking shaking. God, please honey cum for me. Need to see it, need you to be good and cum for me.” It’s his voice, the filth coming out of it, the way he makes you feel like he’s right there with you. You feel it creeping up, bubbling in your stomach, ready to explode. “Let go baby, c’mon lemme feel you squeeze around me.” The desperation in his voice set you off. Your back arched off the bed, and your vision went black. Everything felt so good. The tingles were surging through your body, and all you could do was let the memories of Shawn propel you through your orgasm. You could barely hear Shawn talking you through it in the background. “Oh fuck, that’s my good girl. Yes, (Y/N), you did so good for me, honey. I’ve got you baby, ride it out.” When you finally felt yourself coming down, you were spent. You felt every muscle in your body relax. Your arms fell limp beside you, and your eyes lulled shut. Shawn smiled, finally seeing his baby at peace. “Did so well for me, honey. So proud of you.” You smile and shift around in your bed, pulling the covers up to your neck. “Baby, you still with me? You okay?” You just nodded, unable to find the strength to give him a verbal response. He laughed and cleared his throat. “Girl, your body is calling me. There ain’t no sunshine, no sunshine where I was before,” he started to sing softly, continuing when he saw your features relax. “But I found the love, the warmth in your arms. Won’t you come closer, let it take over. I don’t need anything, I just want you.” The lullaby continued until he saw you completely still and heard the soft puffs of your even breathing. “Night honey, sweet dreams.”

Leave feedback if you want! I would love to hear your thoughtssss if you wanna share them.

[huysmut]

favorite smuts

BTS

JEON JUNGKOOK  KIM TAEHYUNG PARK JIMIN  KIM NAMJOON JUNG HOSEOK MIN YOONGI KIM SEOKJIN

[cardcaptorsakura96]

A Christmas Miracle-Chapter 3

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers, Ruby Arias, Santa Claus, Streaky the cat, Lillian Luthor, Alex Danvers, Cupid

Summary: After her last two breakups, Lena doesn't think there is love out there for her. However, will Ruby's wish to Santa make Lena a believer in miracles?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Kara sighed as she walked with Streaky with a leash in the park. She was dressed in pink sweats and a pink hoodie. It had been several days since she had seen Lena and wasn’t sure what to do still. She knew she needed to speak to her, but wasn’t really sure how to approach the situation. She wasn’t sure if she should tell her if she was Supergirl or not. She thought it was obvious, but realized that she never called herself that during the encounter, and she wasn’t dressed in costume. For all she knew, Lena could have thought that she was one of any multitude of metahumans that had popped up all over the city the last couple of years. She was jostled out of her thoughts when she noticed that Streaky had suddenly stopped walking. She looked down to see that he was staring at her expectantly. 

Kara sighed and said, “I take it you want to be carried instead of walking around.”

Streaky nodded his head.

Kara looked down at her Fitbit and saw that she and Streaky had walked about 5 miles already.

Kara smiled and said, “I guess we had enough exercise today.”

Kara opened her arms and Streaky pounced into her arms. Kara cuddled Streaky against her chest and continued down the path in the park. 

Streaky made a loud purring sound. 

Kara chuckled and said, “I know it is almost dinner time. I take it you would want your usual tuna.”

Streaky purred loudly and rubbed his head against Kara’s neck. 

Kara chuckled and said, “Why am I not surprised? Well, we are about 10 minutes from the park exit. It has enough trees and shrubby there that we can hide in to change and then fly home the rest of the way.”

Streaky purred against Kara’s neck in contentment. 

Kara smiled and said, “I am glad we have a game plan here.”

As Kara and Streaky rounded the bend, Kara noticed a man dressed in a black sweater, pants, and black mask over his head knock over a Santa and take  the red collection box he was using to collect funds for the Salvation Army near the park’s exit.

Kara sighed, shook her head, and said, “Do people not have any shame?”

She noticed two rocks on the ground near her. She picked them up quickly and threw them towards the thief. The rocks hit the thief on the back of his legs causing him to fall and then hit his head on the pavement knocking him out. 

Kara shook her head as she ran up to grab the box and then take it back to Santa. The Santa tried to get up to greet her but winced as he tried to put weight on his foot.

Kara frowned and asked, “Are you okay?”

Santa smiled at her and said, “I’ll be okay. I think I may have hurt my ankle though. Do you mind helping me over to that bench over there?”

Kara nodded as she helped him up and guided him to the nearest bench. As he sat down, she used her X-ray vision to analyze his ankle. She didn’t see a sprain or any type of breakage which is a good sign. Given on hard he fell, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was maybe sore for the next day or two. 

Kara sat next to him and gave him the Salvation Army box. 

Santa smiled at her and said, “Thank you so much for retrieving this. The funds mean so much to families in need, especially during the holiday season.”

Kara smiled and said, “It is no problem. I just want to help.” She looked at his ankle and said, “You seemed to have difficulty walking. Did you need help to get back home or would you like me to call someone for you?”

Santa chuckled and said, “No, I will be just fine. I think my ego is more bruised than anything that I let that young man get the jump on me and the lady earlier.”

Kara frowned and asked, “What lady?”

Santa sighed and said, “There was a lady that was going through her purse about to put funds in the Salvation Army Box when the thief took us both by surprise. He took her money and car keys. He was about to attack her when I pushed her away and she made a run for it. Then the thief turned his focus on me and tried to take the money box.

Kara frowned and said, “I hope that lady is okay.”

Santa nodded and said, “I hope so too.” He held up his hand, revealed the car keys, and said, “The idiot dropped it during the fight and I was able to get them back. I was hoping to be able to find her since my shift ends in a couple of minutes and she said that she was heading to the parking lot near the park after making her donation. However, I am not sure if I will be able to catch up with her with my ankle bothering me like this.”

Kara smiled and said, “I can try to find her. It shouldn’t be too hard since there is only one parking lot within walking distance from here. Do you remember what the lady looked like?”

Read the rest on AO3

[peakyblinderswhore]

DAY 3 ⇨ MATRESS ANGELS 

GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff I’m a fucking liar, Smut, 18+ only.

PAIRING: Michael x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Michael and yourself weren’t exclusive but strictly speaking, you did spend an awful amount of time together that certainly suggested that you were. Spending the night at Polly’s on Christmas Eve would only make this assumption more valid. On the assumption that you are exclusive, Polly offers up one of her rooms... with one bed. What are two, young, hormone-filled adults going to do with just one bed?

W/C: 3.4k

WARNINGS: it’s fucking dirty, yo. swearing, oral (m + f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), degradation kink(?), hair pulling, spit is used as lubrication (it’s the 1920′s, c’mon), it doesn’t really have anything to do with christmas, pwp, it’s the dirtiest shit i’ve ever written, tiny tiny overstimulation, dom!michael, sub!reader ig, sex, sex, more sex, uh that’s it i think

A/N: to that one anon who always asked me for michael smut. yeah. you know who you are. i’m not sure if i’m writing this out of anger or to please you. bruh i love you fr fr though. in the heat of the moment i actually wrote something. lol hats off to you though.

cross posted onto ao3 here

“Michael, there’s only one bed,” you whisper to him.

He hums, “Mum must’ve had an inkling about us. I can sleep downstairs if you want,” he offers, raising an eyebrow.

The two of you were spending Christmas at Polly’s as per your suggestion in her townhouse out in the countryside. To be fair, you had mentioned it in passing after Polly had mentioned that she would have more than enough room for Michael to stay for the eve of Christmas and to be there the morning of to save journey time. He had winced and his hand that rested on your lower back firmed, he didn’t know how to reply and you could sense that through the thin material of your dress. 

“I don’t know, Mum, I was going to do my rounds with Y/N.”

Polly’s eyes had lingered over Michael’s hand that rested on your back but only momentarily, you had noticed this but pretended not to when you said, “Well, I was only going to visit Michael... if you don’t mind me staying the night too I’d be more than happy to make up for the burden.”

That was two weeks ago. And here you were, staring at the bed. The singular bed. The only bed in the room. At least it was a double.

“It’s okay,” you say, referring to his offer of sleeping elsewhere, “we’re adults. We can share one bed.”

Michael perches on the end of the bed and takes off his shoes, opting for something more comfortable, while you lay down on the other side, arms spread out wide, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going and to stop your mind from wandering.

“Let’s make snow angels!”

“Pardon?”

“I said,” you reiterate, pushing yourself up on an elbow to look at Michael peering over his shoulder at you, “let’s make snow angels!”

“How old are you?” although his comment doesn’t hurt as his grin widens on his face as he shifts his body to face you properly, “plus,” he begins, “It’s a mattress, much less, er, snow than what we would need.”

“...Mattress angels?”

Michael’s eyes suddenly darken and he makes his way to crawl towards you, I know what we could do...” his voice trails off and his fingers circle the skin where your dress finished suggestively.

“Michael!” Your face heats up form the suggestion, mortified that he would want to do something that dirty with Polly just a few doors down, “Polly, your Mother,” you emphasise, “is only a few doors down.”

He shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “Worried she might hear you?”

You snap your legs shut and sit up abruptly, startling him and forcing him to sit back again, “She’s not going to hear us because it’s not happening.”

Michael pulls back, not one to push you into somehting that you didn’t want to do, “Alright,” he moves on with the conversation, “Mum said we can go down for a late night snack or join her for a drink in a few.”

“Sounds good,” you say, thankful for Michael respecting your wishes, “I’ll slip something a little more comfortable on, then.”

Downstairs, Polly was passed out on the settee, a glass resting on the arm of her chair, her head resting on the back of her chair, lightly snoring. She had mentioned something earlier about being busy last night and the morning following it on. You smile and Michael chuckles, “We wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips, “This is nice though.”

“It is,” he presses a kiss back, kissing you slowly like he’s trying to savour every second he can to the fullest. His hands are resting on your hips, mindlessly rubbing circles with his thumbs whilst yours hang loosely around his neck, fingers scratching at the bottom of his hairline.

The fire crackled in the background as you and Michael continued to deepen the kiss, devouring each other as you began licking into the other’s mouth, tasting the wine that Michael had with his dinner earlier on. It gave him an intoxicating feel, making you want to taste this forever, his musk filling your senses and his fingers trailing your waist, contemplating whether or not to go much further. When Michael pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, he looked down to where his hands rested before flitting up to meet your gaze. His mouth was hung open, drinking in all the air that he couldn’t get moments ago.

“We should stop, you didn’t want to earlier and I’m afraid that if we continue I won’t be able to stop.”

Your eyes fill with lust, he notices but waits for you to say the word, “She is asleep,” you manage to whisper, still praying that she’s fast asleep adn far from waking up anytime soon.

“You can’t take it back if you say it.”

“I know...” you bring your lower lip between your teeth and bring your fingers to face, cupping his cheeks, you say, “take me upstairs, Michael.”

His mouth finds yours and he pushes your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, moulding your mouths together as his hands wrap underneath your thighs. You obediently jump, locking your ankles behind his back and he holds you up by your ass. He doesn’t open his eyes as he walks up the stairs, sure you should’ve been worried but his mouth was much more captivating at this precise moment in time.

Before you knew it, you were being laid out on the singular bed in your room that you were staying in. Michael let go, kicking off his slippers and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. When he connects your mouths again, it’s a clash of teeth and tongues and your hands instantly reach for the warmth underneath his shirt. His hand reaches behind your head and pulls at the pins holding your hair together before throwing them in the vague direction of the dresser that had become home to your limited luggage.

You had locked your legs around his waist again, aching for the feeling of his hard cock against your heated core, praying for some kind of friction that would relieve your need for him. His hands rested either side of your head, slowly crawling onto the bed to meet you level with him.

At this, you arched up, pulling your hand from his shoulder and slipping off your robe and pushing it to fall off of the bed and then reach to unbutton his shirt all the way and throw it on the floor with your robe. This meant Michael was half naked but you still had a slip on. He lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around your throat, pulling you up to meet his tongue and to see how far he could get his tongue before you whined, like you usually did.

Whimpering, Michael smiled at your vocal plead to move on, unravelling his fingers from your throat and connecting his lips to your neck, wanting to see how far he could get you without touching you.

He bites and licks at your neck, enough to make your eyes roll and your nerves to tingle, making your fingers curl in his hair, tugging from the pleasure. You breathe heavily against his ear and push him away from your neck, unbuckling his belt with eager fingers, but as you were about to push his trousers down to his thighs, he stops you and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

“Let me,” he whispers against your mouth, “just...” his voice fades away as he lowers his head to your perk nipples, showing evidently through the incredibly thin slip you were wearing. Without a second to spare, he latches his teeth to your nipple, lightly pulling them, making you fidget from the sensitivity you were currently experiencing. Then, he circles his tongue on your areola thorugh the fabric, leaving a wet patch before capturing your breast in his mouth.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Michael...” your head rolls, “I’m begging you to fuck me... like you mean it.”

Grunting, he pushes his trousers down and kicks them off, obediently, not wanting to miss this moment, either, “I fucking love you so much right now.”

You lift your head to view his figure. His eyes were ravaging your body as he thought about what to do next. You grasped the bottom of your slip and pulled it over your body and reached a hand down to acknowledge your throbbing pussy.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.”

You giggle, “Do something about it then, won’t you,” you pout and put on the best puppy eyes you can, “please?”

Immediately, his tongue swirls over each of your taut nipples and down your stomach, loops your belly button and nudges through your pubic hair to your clitoris. His lips attach and suck for dear life, making you let out the girthiest moan you’d ever heard from your own body, making you slap you hand over your mouth as Michael continued, refusing to let up. He reaches a hand below your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and bringing his hand around it to rest on your inner thigh to hold it in place. His other hand runs along your folds, teasing you. He halts briefly to push his fingers past your soft lips, lubricating them with your saliva before bringing them back down and pushes one slowly into your hole. 

“Tell me... use your words with me,” he growls against your clit.

His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, swiping his tongue from your hole to your clit and mimics the tongue twister you had joking taught him one time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathe out in breathy moans just as he pushes a second finger into your pussy, meaning that you were now barely able to string together a coherent sentence. It was more than enough feedback for him, what with your fingers tightening around the strands of hair you had in your fists, he responded to everything your body was telling him. “You like that, baby? Huh?” His eyes flick up to watch as you begin to fall apart, breathing heavy and eyes unfocused.

“Y-yes.”

Still pushing his fingers in and out of you, he continues feeling around for the spot that he knew was nearby -- he was no stranger to your body this intimately.

“How about this, then?”

He lifts his head from your throbbing pussy and lets his hand that was locked around your thigh move to rub calculated circles over your clit. He spits onto his fingers as they continue to move in and out to allow an easier slide.

At this point, his fingers hit the spot and your body arches, lifting away from the bed, “Th-there, don’t... s-stop.”

Now knowing where he was aiming for, he allows his fingers to move at a faster pace and lets his thumb rub harder circles into your clit. He bends his head down to lick stripes into your pussy wherever he could, occasionally lifting his thumb to switch for his tongue and vice versa, pushing you to the edge.

“Yes, Michael, yes!”

He  switches his fingers for his tongue, pushing in and out of your entrance, wanting to taste you.

“Wanna taste you,” he says, “can you do that for me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Mhmm.”

His thumb continues its attack on your clitoris and within seconds your coming apart on his face. Micahel laps up your release on his tongue and helps you ride out your high.

When your body relaxes and your fingers uncench his hair his lifts his head, lips glistening from your arousal, “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Ignoring him, you pull his face up to yours and begin to kiss him sloppily, mind still foggy from your orgasm only moments ago. You smile at the taste of yourself still fresh on his lips and reach a hand down between the two of you to address the, ahem, third member present in the room.

Michael moans as your fingertips brush lightly across the strained material of his underwear, over his erect cock.

“Your turn,” you mumble, “wanna make you cum.”

Tucking your fingers under the band of his underwear, you push them down to his knees and push at his chest lightly, making him lay back so you could pull them off all the way. The soon got lost in the jumble of clothes piling up on the floor.

Swinging your hair over your shoulder, you thumb lightly at the head of his cock, swiping the moisture that had gathered and spreading it before circling your fingers around his rock hard cock and pumping it a couple of times.

Michael bites his lip, holding back a low groan, “Suck,” he demands.

Willingly, you grin and wrap your lips around the head and swirl your tongue around the tip. You begin to gradually push his dick further into your mouth, flattening your tongue on the underside of his dick and humming. Bobbing your head up and down, Michael knots your hair around his fist and helps you maintain your rhythm. “Y/N, just like that,” he groans out. You let your hand travel down to your pussy and to play with your clit, getting off on Michael’s moans dancing through the air like a sweet lullaby to your sinning ears.

“Greedy slut,” he says, grinning, “can’t wait for your second orgasm when I haven’t even had one?”

You stop toying with your clit and decide to see just how far you could take his cock in your throat and hollow your cheeks. At this, you could practically feel it twitch in your mouth. You press your hands onto his thighs to balance yourself as you lower your head until your nose is nudging the hair at the base of his cock. He lets out an almighty growl as he strains himself, not wanting to buck into your mouth but you moan at the feel of him and he fucks into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat and tears filling your eyes from the stinging.

“Fucking hell...” he moans out.

You lift your head and bring one hand to the base of his cock, squeezing at different pressures before lifting your lips from his cock and releasing it with a pop. You wipe the tears with the back of your free hand.

Michaels head lifts to meet your eyes. You smile, saliva dribbling down your chin, “Good?”

His eyes darken at the question, “Do that again and I might cum down your throat.”

Your eyes squint at the challenge and you drop your head to lick a stripe from the base of his cokc to the tip, making him shiver from the pleasure but before you could drop your lips to his cock again his hand grips at your neck, “Not today, baby. I need to fuck you.”

He pulls you up and goes to flip you but you quickly blurt, “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes, you can.”

He helps you up to hover above his erect penis. You grip it tightly and guide it towards your entrance before sinking down onto it.

“Oh, Michael,” you groan at the girth of his dick, pushing your pussy open.

“Y/N how are you so fucking tight?”

You laugh a little, the sting of the stretch of his dick stopping you halfway and settle on resting your hands on his chest, “Why don’t you fuck me more often?” You counter.

Michael’s eyes darken more — if that’s even possible — and lifts you off his dick almost entirely before slamming into you, making you whine.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

You move forward to rest on your elbows, the sting subsiding from the stretch and begin to move your hips in a swiveling motion, not wanting Michael to abolish your pussy before you’d even started.

“Such a fucking tease.”

You clench your pussy around him, loving the jolt of pleasure that ran through your body at his comment, “Oh, shit.”

“You like that? You dirty little slut, soaking my dick for me.”

Meeting your swivels, Michael sets the pace, thrusting up and everytime you bit back a moan from echoing against the walls.

“Michael,” you whimper out, making him throw his head back and growl at your needy self.

You try to force Michael to go slower but he only ghosts his fingers across your clit, rubbing vicious circles into it. Your head falls forward and you groan as he grunts with every thrust.

He was forcing you to edge quicker than you would’ve liked but the high outweighed any con your fuzzy brain could muster up when the pleasure Micahael was inducing soared through your pussy and to the coil in your stomach, slowly tightening the more he did it.

“Michael, s-so close...”

At this he pulls out and flips you so you’re on your hands and knees and he’s behind you, lining up his cock with your centre and sinking in, once again met with the warmth of your velvety walls.

He slams into you, once again and continues to pound at the same speed, making every thrust harder than the last, somehow reaching further than the last time.

“Hold it for me, baby, can you do that for me?”

You whimper in response, already so close as it is and not sure how much longer you can fend it off.

Michael grips your hair and pulls you back so you arch up and your back meets his chest, “I asked a question, can you do that?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Michael.”

“Good, little slut.”

You clench at that and he lets go of your hair, stabilising himself by gripping your hips hard enough that there would probably be finger-shaped bruises but you didn’t care — not when he was pounding into you, hitting your spot just right, “Right, there, Michael, I’m so fucki—”

He sneaks a hand round to rub circles in your clit and lets the other grab a handful of boob, squeezing and kneading it as much as he wants.

“Good girl, I’m so close, almost there, now.”

You whine, his fingers getting quicker and his thrusts sloppier.

“Oh, fu-fuck..” he groans, “now, you can cum now.”

Crying out his name, you release your hold on your orgasm, feeling the coil snap inside you, now thrilled that you no longer have to stave it off and you fall forward. Michael wraps his arm around your chest, catching you so he can continue to fuck into you.

“That’s it, baby, milk my cock like the good fucking girl you are.”

Michael’s thrusts become erratic as he chases his high. When he reaches it, you feel him releasing his seed deep inside your pulsating pussy. He slows down his thrusts, riding out both of your highs for you. 

When he shudders one final time, he slumps forward, cheek resting on your sweaty back but he didn’t care.

After a few moments, he pulls his softening cock out of your sore pussy, making you wince from the over-stimulation. He presses a soft kiss to your back and goes to fetch a wet soft-cloth to clean you up. Your eyes flutter closed and you only know he’s returned by the soft caress of his hand down one thigh, pushing them apart so he can clean you up. You whimper from the soreness but let him continue as you know it has to happen in order to stay clean.

He hums as he goes about cleaning you up and tosses the cloth to the side where he can address it in the morning.

You pat the bed beside you and he climbs in, hugging you from behind and pressing multiple soft kisses to your back, making you shiver.

“That was...”

You wait for him to continue.

“Can we do that again?”

“Like now?” you reply, alarmed.

“Uh.”

“Jesus Christ, Michael, what are you made of?”

“So I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“You bet your ass it’s a no.”

He waits a beat. 

“Wake me up before Polly gets up in the morning,” you mumble.

Michael grins, “You know I will.”

“I do.”

[makebank]

save me

Summary: You stop caring about your life. JJ comes in at just the right time. 

Warnings: drug use, cussing, unwanted physical touch

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: i got a little carried away for a blurb, but had some time before work today. hope you enjoy!! idk how i feel about it but oh weeell. 

Request: would you be comfortable with writing a request where JJ has to save you from a situation gone wrong with barry and rafe?

You were unsure of why you kept the company that you did. Maybe it was because you didn’t value yourself. Maybe it was because you didn’t think you deserved better. Or maybe it was just that you stopped caring. 

You were slumped into the back of an old dirty couch with your eyes glued to the table in front of. Rafe was smashed into your side, always near you. He was arguing with Barry about the white powder on the table in front of you. The house was filled with a bunch of other low lifes having nothing better to do than spend their time here. But hey you were there too.

“C’mon man let me and my girl get a little taste of the merchandise.” Rafe was always adamant about trying the product. Not because he cared about the quality but because he couldn’t pass up a line. You on the other hand didn’t care either way. You could go without it, but it was just always there. So why not? It’s not like your life was great anyway. The insufferable kook life surrounded you everywhere. Always pretending you were perfect. It was exhausting. Your parents loved Rafe, not even having a clue who he really was. Just that he, too, came from money. You had succumbed to the idea that this life was as good as it was going to get. So you decided you didn’t care to try for anything better. 

You rolled your eyes at their back and forth banter. You always hated coming to the cut with Rafe and dealing with his hostile drug dealers. “You say that every time Country Club. It’s fine. I always have the good stuff. Besides you still owe me money from last time” Barry tried to defend himself. Rafe just raised his eyebrow upset at not getting his way like always. “I will come through this time. I promise. I’ll charge the rich kids more this time.” Rafe was pleading like a child. Barry just huffed and started making a few lines. 

Rafe snorted the first then leaned back into the couch satisfied. He handed you the rolled-up bill and you followed suit. Every time it hit your system the rush was unexplainable. It made you feel good just for a moment. 

Just then you heard the front door slam open to a familiar blond pogue boy. JJ Maybank. You’ve heard numerous stories about him, but have only exchanged a few words every now and then. His eyes met yours for a moment in your blissed-out state, then he moved through the house shouting for what sounded like his dad. Rafe continued snorting lines, getting carried away like always. 

As you were just getting bored of watching him, Rafe left the room not even telling you where he was going. Barry, then saw this as his opportunity, he came over and sat next to you on the couch. You grimaced at the greasy man. He placed his slimy hand onto your thigh, and just as quickly you threw it off. He brought it back and gripped it even harder and started to slide up. “Stop!” You yelled hoping he’d get the hint or Rafe would hear and come back. But your eyes scanned the room and no sight of him anywhere. 

Barry leaned in, holding your body to the couch, and moved his lips to your neck. You felt queasy and violated. Tears started to fall down your cheek, as you came to realize you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Just like the rest of your life.

“What the fuck? Get the hell off her man!” you heard a different voice shout. Barry was ripped off the top of you and thrown to the ground. Punches were flying to his face, delivered by the feisty surfer. 

You finally caught up to what was happening and found your voice. “JJ please stop!” as much as you hated Barry you didn’t want to cause any more problems with him, knowing the consequences. JJ listened and got off of the bleeding and groaning man. He looked at your defeated posture and tear stained cheeks. He reached out his bloody hand for you to grab.

“You want to get out of here?” He offered. You were unsure why he cared to help you. But you were more unsure of why you wanted to go with him. Rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, but he parades you around like you were. You allowed it because it made your family satisfied. But looking into his blue eyes, your heart started to speed up. And not because of the drugs for the first time. He made you feel safe just for a moment and something about him was so inviting. 

You nodded your head and placed your hand into yours. He pulled you out of the house and you both started walking down the unpaved road. “Thank you… for that.” you mumbled.

“Barry is a creep. I hate that dude. Besides you didn’t look too happy before that.” Your eyes went to the ground feeling embarrassed that people could tell how miserable you were. You tried so hard for it not to show. “Yeah. Life just sucks sometimes, I guess. You didn’t look too happy there either. Did you find your dad?” you were curious even though it was sort of nosey. He quirked a brow at you for noticing him too. 

“You can say that.” he looked disgusted by the topic of his father. “Well, I should probably head home. Thanks again. I don’t know why you helped me, but I really appreciate it.” JJ frowned at your words. “I don’t know why you spend your time with them if you’re miserable. You don’t have to be unhappy. I see you all the time y/n and you look like you hate your life. Come hang out with me today. I’ll show you a good time.” He started smirking full of himself. 

You were confused why you were thrilled at the idea of spending the day with him. But here in front of you was a person making you feel anything but empty. You were in no position to pass it up. You smiled in return, “Fine. It can’t be worse than Barry” you giggled. You’d deal with Rafe and your parents later.

JJ’s smile took up his entire face and he brushed his loose blond hairs back. Once more he motioned for you to take his hand. He intertwined your fingers and whisked you away from all the pain and suffocation of your life. 

[hongcherry]

Drifting | pjm | 4

✿ Pairing: dancer!Jimin x dancer!Reader(f)

✿ Genre: Fluff, angst, established relationship, college au

✿ Warnings: Fluff, angst, lip smooches, neck smooches, it’s hard to describe dance moves sometimes so I hope I made it (somewhat) clear

✿ Summary: It’s time for your midterm presentation. Despite the countless hours of practice, you still didn’t feel ready. The combination of emotions was overwhelming you and you suddenly wanted to find closure. You were worried your emotions were in such disarray that it would negatively affect your performance. On top of that, Jimin was still avoiding you and you needed to do something before your relationship was ruined beyond saving.

✿ Word count: 10.8k (oops)

✿ Status: Completed

✿ A/N: Ta-da! I hope you enjoyed this adventure. I’m proud that I pushed through and finished this series since I rarely finish my works (I’m awful). Thank you so much for reading and giving my writing a chance. I didn’t mean to write this much. (Fun fact: I deleted all this by accident and I thought I lost it all. Thankfully, I didn’t, but it sure gave me a fright haha).

previous // masterpost // next

“We need to do that again,” you spoke, slightly out of breath with your hands on your hips. The sun was just beginning to rise behind you as you stood next to Jungkook near where you were last night with Namjoon. You and Jungkook had agreed yesterday to meet early to get some practice in before you had to leave for campus again. You had found a flat area next to the lake and had suggested the spot since it was far enough to not disturb the others with your noise. Plus the view was glorious and you were hoping it would calm you. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t succeed. You were stressed. 

“We’ve done it eight times already. I think we got it,” Jungkook said and took a sip of his water. You couldn’t tell if it was from being tired, stressed, or annoyed with your boyfriend that you were so frustrated with the littlest things. You had been practicing with Jungkook for already thirty minutes with no stops, but you still weren’t satisfied with anything. 

“It isn’t good enough. Mrs. Seung will be nitpicking everything,” you replied and reached for his phone to play the music again. He was quicker, though, and snatched the phone and raised it above his head. You reached up quickly, trying to grab it before it got out of your reach. Unfortunately, he was faster and you stood there like a child with their arm up on their tip-toes.

You dropped your arm with a huff and glared at him. Why do tall people do this to short people? They are abusing their powers. “We don’t have enough time to be playing games, Jungkook.”

“What happened to Koo?” He asked, teasingly, his hand still raised.

“You only get called that when you’re being good.”

“I am being good. We need a break. I’m helping,” he said and stepped away from you. He put out his other arm when you followed him. “No, no, Y/N. We’re taking a ten-minute break.”

“Five,” you argued, knowing that you weren’t going to win. He chuckled and nodded.

“Okay, five minutes.”

You grabbed your water bottle and took a drink, watching him as you did so. He simply smiled at you, slowly lowering his arm and checking something on his phone.

“Have you been enjoying yourself?” You asked as silence loomed over you both. He peeked up from his phone.

“Anything is better than staying in the dorms,” he said, typing something then sliding his phone in the pockets of his sweats.

“True, but how do you like the cabin?” You reached up and fixed your ponytail as you spoke.

“It’s spacious. Taehyung wouldn’t stop gushing about it last night,” he said with a small laugh. “I can’t blame him, though. It’s impressive.”

You hummed in agreement and averted your attention to the water. In the morning light, the water wasn’t as spooky. You sat silently, allowing your breath to ease, and your body to relax. You didn’t stay there long, though, standing up after a few moments. 

Five minutes had surely passed and it was time to get started again. You needed more time to get your mind off of everything. Simply staring at the water was nice, but it didn’t stop your thoughts. Could anything stop your thoughts? You hated the feeling in your chest. The feeling of regret, pride, stubbornness, disappointment all mixed together.

“We have a minute left,” Jungkook said when you started to reach for his phone again. You looked up at him and stared at him.

“It’s close enough. Let’s get going,” you grabbed for his phone again but he stopped you with his other hand on your wrist. His grip was gentle but firm enough to hold you in place.

“Our routine is stellar. You’re just being picky,” he said, half teasing you while keeping his hand on you. You glanced down at his hand on you. Your skin underneath was heating from his stilled hand. Goosebumps raced up your arm and you suddenly wondered if Jimin’s skin reacted the same when Yun Hee touched him.

“It’s been five minutes now,” Jungkook said gently, interrupting your thoughts. He let go of your wrist and started the music. Your wrist grew cold from the lack of heat and you suddenly missed it. The feeling of his strong fingers wrapped around your wrist. Oddly, you wished it was Jimin’s hands instead. 

You both spent the next two hours practicing and perfecting the routine, focusing on the new partner section since that was the newest addition. Although you had a lot on your mind, it helped fuel your motivation. If you were focused on the routine, you weren’t focused on the other issues. Unlike before in class, you didn’t let those thoughts cloud your mind. You found a safe place while you danced with Jungkook. Despite your limbs feeling sore, you didn’t want to stop. You knew if you did, those thoughts would come flooding in. However, Jungkook was growing tired and insisted you both call it a day for practice since you were already planning to practice later tonight on campus. You couldn’t wait for this midterm to be over tomorrow.

You couldn’t deny the sadness that loomed over you as you helped make breakfast with everyone. Jimin would move toward you, looking as if he was going to tell you something, but retreated after a few seconds of hesitation.

You were being petty. You knew it, but your pride held you back from talking to him. You wanted to talk through this, Tae’s words eating away at you, but you couldn’t help the frustration that came with the thoughts of him and Yun Hee. You were also worried that you wouldn’t be able to talk civilly to him. The mere thought of them infuriated you and you were sure you were going to explode and say things you didn’t mean.

You spent the rest of the morning and the ride back to campus lost in your thoughts. You tried to interact with others, but you couldn’t focus and gave up. Your friends grew worried, trying to talk to you, but ended up leaving you to the mayhem inside your mind when you brushed them off. Were you being selfish for being secluded in your own world? Probably. Were you overreacting? Probably. You knew what you needed to do and you planned to suck it up and talk to Jimin. It’s been too long since you heard his voice directed to you. Been too long since he called you baby or jagiya, hearing his Busan dialect slip and making your heart flip at the sound of it. Been too long since his hands were on you and his lips pressing against yours.

You would be lying if you didn’t admit that part of you were waiting for Jimin to make the first move. However, he hasn’t, and you wondered if he ever would or if you two would drift away to the point a verbal breakup wasn’t necessary. You two would just know. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Although it would tear you apart, you needed the verbal confirmation. You needed the closure that came with it. Sometimes you felt breaking up would be the easiest solution. However, the feeling that came with the thought of it made you falter. The way your heart tightened and your breathing stopped when you imagined a life without Jimin.

You knew you had to do something to fix this.

With this in mind, you were walking down the various dance practice rooms. You had gone to Jimin’s dorm but were greeted by Taehyung and him alone. He had told you Jimin had just left a few minutes ago to practice with Yun Hee. The feeling of envy erupted in your chest but you choked it down. If you succumb to that feeling, this cycle would never end. Plus, you were going to practice with Jungkook soon. You needed to stop these hypocritical thoughts. 

The hallway felt as if it was never-ending. Your feet dragged along the hardwood, passing several empty rooms. When you got to a closed door, you peeked into the small window on the door, moving onto the next when you didn’t see Jimin or Yun Hee. After checking two other rooms, you finally spotted your boyfriend. Your hand was on the door handle, ready to push it open when Jimin pulled Yun Hee against his chest. You could hear the faint sound of music from the room but it wasn’t clear enough to tell if it was the routine’s song. Was this part of their choreography?

You were frozen as you watched Yun Hee’s lips curl up into a smile, pressing her hands against his chest and slowly moving them up until they were wrapped around Jimin’s neck. Jimin was staring down at her. He wasn’t smiling at first but after Yun Hee spoke, he grinned. They spoke for a few more minutes, though it felt like years before Yun Hee moved a hand to caress his face and started to lean forward. Was this really happening? Your heart was racing as you watched the two of them. You wanted to shove the door open. You wanted them to know they were caught. You wanted Jimin to know he had hurt you. Though you did none of those actions. You simply stared, wide-eyed becoming blurry, as you watched in slow motion as she leaned toward Jimin. Before you could catch their faces getting any closer, a hand was set on your shoulder. You jumped, quickly turning and moving away from the door.

Jungkook stared at you, a mixture of confusion and happiness in his eyes.

“I didn’t think we were going to meet until thirty minutes?” He asked. He was happy to see you but was perplexed at your early appearance.

“Oh, I,” you stuttered. You didn’t want him to know you had just caught your boyfriend with another girl in his arms. “I figured I should practice by myself so I was ready for our practice.”

He chuckled, eyes raising to view into the room you were looking into, but you quickly grabbed his hand and moved him away. 

“But since you’re here, let’s start early,” you said quickly and pushed him down the hall.

“Wha-?” He started but let you move him anyway. “Okay,” he said slowly, giving in to your shoves and glancing at you before heading toward an empty room on his own.

You wanted to follow Jungkook without a second glance, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering into the room again. Jimin and Yun Hee were no longer in each other’s embrace. They had moved to grab their water and appeared to be taking a break. Letting out a sigh, you turned and made your way to Jungkook. If you were gone for too long, he’d come looking for you. 

“Did you have anything specific you wanted to focus on today?” Jungkook asked when you entered the room. You realized you didn’t come with your bag and wouldn’t have anything to drink. Remembering Yoongi was going to come with Hoseok later, you quickly sent a message to him asking for a bottle of water. 

“Oh, uh, I was just hoping to review the details to ensure our movements are precise,” you said while typing out your message to Yoongi.

“That sounds good,” he paused. “I was hoping we could also just sit and talk for a bit.”

You glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Koo, you know our presentation is tomorrow. We don’t have much time to spare.”

“I understand, but we haven’t had the chance to get to know each other,” Jungkook said, a little nervous you wouldn’t agree.

“What does that have to do with our routine?” You asked and instantly frowned when you realized how that might have come off. If Jungkook was upset, he didn’t show it.

“We lack emotion, remember?” He replied. “I thought since we’re early, we can use this time to build that connection then we can have Hobi hyung and Yoongi critique us.”

You thought for a second, taking in his words and assessing the situation. Having the presentation tomorrow was making you anxious and all you wanted to do was practice until it was perfect. However, in order for it to be perfect, you needed the emotional appeal. Sighing in defeat, you nodded and laid on the floor. You moved an arm to rest over your eyes to block out the light. You waited while you listened to Jungkook shuffle across the floor before you heard a soft click, the lights in the room turning off. A small smile of satisfaction formed on your lips, but you kept your arm covering your face-- too lazy to move it.

“What did you want to talk about?” You asked, feeling Jungkook lay down next to you. Although he wasn’t touching you, he was close enough for you to feel his body heat.

He hummed as he thought. “Why did you major in dance? I know people consider it a useless degree.”

You stayed silent for a moment as you tried to find the right words. It wasn’t that you didn’t know the reason, but you didn’t want to say anything too cheesy. Though you figured Jungkook wouldn’t care. 

“It was my getaway- I mean, it is my getaway. Something I can focus on and it takes me to this place in my mind where I feel everything is okay. It’s almost therapeutic in some way,” you began. Jungkook stayed quiet as you spoke. “It’s so much more than moving your body to music as some might think. It’s becoming who you want to be- whether it’s you or someone else. It’s acting without words, which I find really powerful,” you realized you had been rambling and forgot to answer his question. You quickly added, “In short, I chose it because it’s my passion.”

The only sound in the room was from the AC. Jungkook hadn’t made a movement or noise in a while and you wondered if he had fallen asleep. You slowly moved your arm from your eyes and turned your head to the side to peer at him. To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Even in the darkness, his eyes shined. You couldn’t quite make out what was in his eyes, but it seemed like admiration. That was silly, though.

“Was that too cliche?” You asked after a second of staring at each other. His lips quirked up in a grin, that cute bunny smile showing.

“No,” he chuckled. “It was nice. It’s interesting to hear other’s stories.”

“Well, what’s yours?” You asked, shifting to be on your side so you could face him. He continued to smile at you, expecting the question.

“Ahh, I actually didn’t have a passion for it at first. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t something I could see myself pursuing. However, after Hoseok hyung started to get me to dance more, I realized it was a form of art. I started practicing with him and some other people and thus my passion grew,” he said, adding a playful tone toward the end. Although his story was much more simplistic than yours, you enjoyed it. You believed people didn’t need elaborate reasoning to enjoy something. You smiled at him and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you thought you would. Jungkook was always that person that was easy to talk to. Part of you wondered if after the presentation tomorrow would you still be friends.

The two of you fell into conversation effortlessly. As the minutes passed by, you became grateful for Jungkook to suggest this talk. It was nice to talk about something other than the turmoil in your mind or the presentation. You weren’t sure how long you and Jungkook talked, laying on the floor with the lights off. It felt as if it were ten minutes, but when the door opened and you checked your phone, you had seen it had been twenty minutes.

“Is nap time part of your routine now?” A teasing voice bounced around the room while the lights fluttered on. You and Jungkook blinked several times, trying to adjust to the new lighting.

“Can you believe this? They were napping!” Hoseok said to Yoongi as they entered the room, shutting the door behind them.

“We weren’t napping,” you huffed as you sat up, slowly raising to your feet after a second. “We were working on the midterm.”

“So how many eight counts did you change to just lay on the floor?” Hoseok asked and took a seat on the floor, his back against the mirror wall.

“We were building our connection, as you said,” Jungkook defended and stood up. Hoseok stared at you two, debating to believe you guys or not.

“I guess I’ll see when I watch the routine,” Hoseok shrugged, though a small smile was on his lips. You turned to Yoongi and reached a hand out to him.

“My snack?” You asked, remembering how you had only allowed him to come if he brought your favorite snack. Yoongi reached into the bag he brought and tossed you an orange and white bag. You caught it with ease and flipped over the bag to read the front.

Goldfish.

You smiled and looked at Yoongi. “Alright, you can stay.” Although a smile was playing on Yoongi’s lips, he rolled his eyes at your sassy attitude.

“I was staying regardless,” he shrugged.

“Goldfish? That’s your favorite snack?” Jungkook asked with a small laugh. You scoffed in mock defense.

“Yes! They’re delicious and cute. Do you know how they even came to be? Even the origin is endearing,” you argued and lifted the bag up, pointing to the cute cracker fish on the package.

“What’s the story?” Hoseok asked, intrigued by your sudden energy on the topic. 

“A biscuit-maker in Switzerland created what is now known as Goldfish, for his wife’s birthday. Can you guess what her zodiac sign is?” You asked eagerly, excited to share the origin story of your favorite snack.

“Uhh, Pisces?” Jungkook asked as he watched your face brighten by his answer.

“Precisely!” You exclaimed. “Isn’t that cute?”

The three men nodded slowly, not expecting you to be this joyful over fish-shaped crackers.

“Wait, how did you know Pisces?” Hoseok questioned Jungkook.

Jungkook shrugged as he replied. “Its symbol is a fish and since the crackers are shaped like fish,” he trailed off, letting Hoseok fill in the rest.

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi interrupted, waving an arm lazily in the air. This wasn’t his first time hearing the Goldfish Oregon story. “I really want to see this performance before I have to go.”

“Go? Where are you going?” You asked and gently set down your Goldfish. They weren’t as good if they were crushed.

“I didn’t finish my work so I’m planning to stay up late,” he replied. Typical Yoongi, you thought. You wondered how he ever functioned with the lack of sleep he often got. It wasn’t that he was lazy, he just wanted everything to be perfect and he found himself working on side-projects rather than his actual projects.

“Alright, well, we need to get warmed up, then we’ll show you,” you said and waited for Jungkook to play some music for your warm-up.

Yoongi and Hobi waited patiently as you warmed up, only sitting up when you both started to get in the beginning position. You sat on the floor, facing diagonally with your legs bent and your arms resting on your knees. You peered at Jungkook through the mirror as he set the music toward the end before getting in his stance. He was facing away from you, simply standing with his feet shoulder-width apart. He met your gaze through the mirror, giving you his charming smile before looking away and getting prepared mentally for the routine.

You weren’t totally surprised by the advice Yoongi gave. Although he always gave reasonable advice, you weren’t sure if he was truly there to just observe or to actually give feedback. Hoseok, of course, also chimed in with fruitful advice. They both were proud of the finished product, which made you feel a little better about tomorrow’s presentation.

As you laid in bed, your mind filled with worry. It was a natural occurrence, however, this time the feeling was so strong you couldn’t sleep. The thought of forgetting the steps tomorrow, the failure that it would create for you and Jungkook, what you saw between Jimin and Yun Hee, the need to get answers but also wanting to disappear and avoid it-- all of it making it hard to relax. Although your plan to talk to Jimin today failed, you were determined to do so tomorrow. You couldn’t live with the constant weight that was glued to your shoulders. Taehyung’s words filled your mind as you laid in your bed along with your and Jimin’s conversation earlier this week. You had both agreed to not let this come between you two and yet it happened. And though Tae’s words weren’t exactly what you wanted to hear, you were grateful he took the time and tried to help. He did bring up valid points and you were slowly realizing just how valid they truly were. 

Your hand reached out for your phone, typing in your password and going to Jimin’s contact. You brought your finger to hover over the call button. You wanted to hear his voice telling you it was okay again, that there was nothing between him and Yun Hee and it was all in your mind (which it could be, but what you saw said differently). You wanted to hear his velvety voice soothe you. However, you knew that wouldn’t be the case. You wouldn’t be greeted with that breathtaking voice. No, you would hear his cold tone. The one he would use when he kept people at arm’s length. You quickly locked your phone and set it back on your nightstand. 

Tomorrow. You promised yourself. Tomorrow you’ll resolve this. 

And hopefully, it won’t end in heartbreak.

As you were getting ready for your presentation, the smell of eggs and toast filled your senses. Seejun often went out for breakfast since she had to be up before you, but perhaps she brought some for you this time. This would be a late breakfast for her, though, which is odd. 

You pushed aside your confusion as you brushed half your hair into a ponytail. You had already changed and packed your bag, ready to get your midterm over with. After double-checking your hair work, you grabbed your bag and walked out of your room.

“Good morning,” Seokjin said from the living room. You jumped at his voice, not expecting to find him here.

“Where’s Seejun?” You asked, not sure how he could get in without a key. Last you checked, he didn’t have one. Maybe Seejun gave him and Joon a spare recently without informing you.

“She forgot something at the cafe, she’ll be back soon. We just went to the one on campus,” he answered and raised his plate to show you his half-eaten breakfast.

“Why are you both eating so late?” You asked, heading to the small mini-fridge you and Seejun shared to grab a cold water bottle.

“Our midterm was today and we finished early. We both skipped breakfast, too,” he replied before shoveling another bite.

“That’s nice you finished early. I hope you get the score you want,” you paused, checking the time on your phone. “I better go before I’m late. I have my midterm today, too.” Seokjin smiled at you, waving at you as he wished you luck. You thanked him before leaving your dorm.

The walk to the dance studio was surprisingly pleasant until you caught sight of a familiar figure walking ahead of you. Although it may sound creepy, you knew his back like how you knew how many fingers you had. Something about the way he walked was distinctly Jimin.

His lean figure walked briskly to the studio, head staying forward as he didn’t detour from his path. Your hand twitched from where Jimin’s fingers usually interlaced with yours. You missed the way his hand molded with yours. You missed the way he would squeeze your hand every now and then as you both walked. You weren’t surprised when you didn’t find him waiting for you in the lobby this morning, though you couldn’t deny that you weren’t a little upset. You supposed it was better this way. You had time to think about what you were going to say to him today. 

You didn’t realize you had slowed down until he turned a corner and you felt your legs moving slower than usual. You quickly glanced at the time on your phone, cursing to yourself when you saw you had two minutes before class, then following Jimin’s path in a hurry. 

Of course. 

Your (not-so) luck had made you and Jungkook go last, right after Jimin and Yun Hee. If it were up to you, you would’ve preferred to go first or second just so you could get it over with. However, Mrs. Seung had already assigned the order of the presentations. You had no option but to watch and feel more anxious by the second. Maybe this was Mrs. Seung's way of punishing you for requesting a partner change. As if the rougher grading wasn’t enough. 

So far, everyone’s routine was profound. Your heart rate has slowly increased and you felt as if you were going stir crazy from the amount of anxiety you felt. You didn’t even want to stand up in fear your legs would give out. 

You felt Jungkook lean into you, his ear close to yours as he whispered, “Take a deep breath. We got this.”

You couldn’t even digest his words or look at him for reassurance. You just felt your body grow hot and your palms become sweaty. You felt Jungkook rest a supportive hand on your thigh in hopes to calm you down. It did little to no help, however. 

By the time it was Jimin and Yun Here’s turn, you had gone over the routine enough times to have it tattooed on your forehead. Though even from the countless practices in your mind, you didn’t feel ready. You were too focused on the dark flooring to have seen Jimin’s small frown when he saw Jungkook’s hand on you. 

The start of the music startled you from your thoughts. Your gaze rose as you quietly watched Jimin and Yun Hee. They moved as if they fit for one another, matching the other’s movements fluidly. Shamelessly, you were searching for that connection Mrs. Seung has mentioned. You were analyzing their eyes as they met each other, searching for that spark people usually had when they saw their lover. You weren’t sure if you saw it or not, not fully trusting your sight since your mind was already clouded from what you saw in the practice room. 

While at first, you were searching for that connection, it quickly shifted to focus on Jimin. Your eyes naturally followed him across the floor. Usually, you were in awe, but right now, you were distraught. You hated how he moved with such power yet softness. You hated how naturally talented he was. You hated the way your heart stopped beating just by watching him move. You hated how you yearned for him even more now. What about him dancing made you fall more in love with him even though you were upset with him?

When it was time for the partner section, you were zoned in on both of them. They went for a more fast-past choreography. They moved with power, moving as if the energy came from each other. They pushed and pulled against each other, letting one start the movement and allowing the other to finish it. Their choreography was unique compared to the previous presentations. You couldn’t disagree that their routine was impressive. 

The class erupted in claps when the music ended. Although the class had been clapping after every presentation, this applause sounded louder than the others. Jimin and Yun Hee bowed in thanks before walking back to their spots against the wall. 

Finally, it was time. 

Jungkook gave you an encouraging smile as you both walked to the center of the room. Your body felt stiff yet jittery. You wanted nothing more but to run out of the room and although that was doable, you were positive Mrs. Seung wouldn’t be pleased. 

“I’ve been delighted with all the presentations so far,” Mrs. Seung spoke as you and Jungkook got into the first position. “Since these presentations were not long, I will have your grades in by the end of the day.”

Jungkook peered at you as you lowered yourself to the floor, positioning yourself in the correct position for the start. If he was nervous, he hid it well as usual. He mostly looked worried about your wellbeing at this point. 

“Let’s get it,” he whispered toward you, reminding you of your practices. Somehow, that made you ease up slightly. You glanced at him over your shoulder, nodding with a small smile on your lips. 

“Ready?” Mrs. Seung asked. Jungkook gave a thumbs up and quickly whispered to you again. 

“Get lost in the music.”

And so you did.

Well, you tried to at least. You couldn’t deny the first few eight counts weren’t the strongest. You did the movements fine, but it wasn’t anything spectacular. You simply executed them with minimum effort. It wasn’t until Jungkook was near you and he whispered for you to get lost again that you actually did.

The music slowed and you closed your eyes briefly as the counts became quieter and the music took its place. You were taken back to your last practice where you and Jungkook were laying on the floor with the lights off. You were reminded of what you told Jungkook. Your reason for dancing and why you pursued it. 

Your movements became less calculated and more fluid. You moved to the rhythms of the music, matching Kook’s movements with ease. Your mind was consumed by the music and Jungkook. Your eyes met his every time you had a partner section, and although he wasn’t smiling, you could see he was proud of you through his eyes. 

When it came down to the partner choreography section, your nervousness came back. This was a recent addition and (stupidly now that you thought of it) you and Jungkook had added several lifts in succession toward the end. The lifts were fairly average, but they could be easily messed up with the smallest wrong move. You needed to focus, yet stay relaxed. 

The music slowed, indicating it was time to prepare for the lift. You stepped back slowly, remembering to drag your feet as the sound faded. You waited two seconds then ran toward Jungkook who had his arms out ready to grab your hips. The moment you felt his fingers on your hips, your heart stopped and the music picked up. He lifted you up with ease while you extended your arms to the side and your legs straight out, making sure you were pointing your toes. It was a small detail, but you knew it was important. 

You kept your head held high as you stayed in that position for a few seconds. Jungkook lowered you and you gently repositioned one arm around his neck and the other resting on his shoulder. You met his eyes as you prepared mentally for the second part. Jungkook slowly slid one arm to wrap around your lower back and kept the other on your hip. 

When the music increased in tempo, he quickly swung you to the left-- your body lowered slightly to the floor and your legs raised to a pike position. As he did, he lowered himself in a slight lunge. When you were swung for the second time, you straightened out the arm that was resting on his shoulder to the side and let your legs apart in the air to the right. You leveraged your weight by keeping a stronghold around his neck. Jungkook rotated his hips slightly to give your lift more power. He dropped the arm on your hip to his side, using the force of the swing to help hold you up with one arm around your back. The position was held for a second before gravity took over and you landed on the floor, spinning 360 degrees as soon as you landed and stopping in front of Jungkook.

You quickly twisted your body downwards, back facing him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You held onto his arms as he spun you upwards. Your legs were together at first but parted midway into the flip. Your left leg landed first but you quickly shifted your weight to the right by gliding it backward in a semicircle and facing your body the other way. As you were doing so, you and Jungkook adjusted your hands so they were clasping the other’s opposite wrists. Without a second to spare and with your weight on your right foot, you rocked back and forth and used the momentum going forward to twist your body to the front, leaping off the floor with your legs in a straddle. Jungkook held onto your wrists tightly as you moved from one side to the next in the air, making sure he kept his stance stable since he was there to help support you. You landed gracefully, arms crossed over the other again. Once he made sure you were steady, he rotated his body to untangle your arms. The music slowed as you both slowly stepped closer to each other, stopping when your feet were a few inches away. You both held onto each other, breaths mingling, as the music faded out and the routine was finally over. 

There was silence after the music stopped. Jungkook’s face broke into a smile and he squeezed your waist as the class began to clap. You returned the smile, instant relief flooding through your veins. Your midterm was over. You pulled away from his embrace, bowing before you took a seat. 

The weight from this performance alleviated from your shoulders. You felt as if you could finally breathe properly. While you still wanted a good grade, just getting the performance out of the way put you at ease. 

“I’m pleased with everyone’s performances today,” Mrs. Seung said as she walked to the center of the room. “As I said, your grades will be official today. No changes will be made to them, either. I hope you all enjoy the rest of the day and I’ll see you next class.”

Your heart was still trying to calm itself from the presentation when your instructor dismissed you. Slowly, you were gathering your bag and standing up after you saw some students leave the classroom. You barely noticed Jimin’s figure exiting with Yun Hee.

“I told you we had it,” Jungkook said and nudged you gently.

“We did good, Koo?” You said, but it sounded more like a question. Jungkook chuckled. 

“We did great, Y/N. How about we go celebrate?” He asked and started walking toward the exit with you.

“We haven’t got our grade back, though. What if we did horrible?” You questioned, glancing up at him. 

He shrugged, pulling out a black baseball cap and securing it on his head. “That doesn’t matter, well, not right now. I think we should celebrate getting our midterm over with.”

The small smile you had on your lips gradually turned upside down. While you wanted to celebrate with Jungkook, you really needed to talk to Jimin. You couldn’t keep delaying the conversation. 

“Can we do it tomorrow maybe? There’s nothing I need to do today,” you replied nervously. You didn’t want to disappoint him, however, he didn’t seem to mind your decision.

“Of course. We can celebrate even more once we see our awesome grade,” he said. This made you scoff playfully. Hopefully, you did get an awesome grade. 

“Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’m available, Koo,” you said as you neared the dorms. You were becoming anxious knowing you were about to talk to Jimin. Your relationship has never been in such turbulence before. You were both able to overcome your differences so far, but this was more than a mere disagreement. You were doubting how strong you thought your relationship was.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Kook smiled and stopped outside the entrance. When you gave him a confused look, he said, “Hoseok hyung asked me to keep him company while he worked on his mixtape if I was available.”

“His mixtape?” You asked, taken aback by the news of Hobi creating music. Neither Jungkook nor Hobi had mentioned being interested in making music. It reminded you of your best friend and you wondered what would happen if they collabed.

“Yes, it’s a hobby of his,” Jungkook shrugged.

“Ah,” you nodded. “Well, let him know I want to hear it as soon as he finishes.” Jungkook chuckled and agreed. Mumbling a goodbye, you both waved before you parted ways. 

The walk to Jimin’s door felt different this time. Could this be the last time you visit it? You are so dramatic, you thought to yourself. You began thinking of the things you wanted to tell him when you saw him. You had told yourself you would be calm the whole time. You’ve had enough time to not get angry and, truthfully, you were growing tired of it. You were disappointed with yourself how you’ve been acting. 

You hadn’t realized you had been standing outside his dorm until the door opened suddenly. 

“He’s not here,” Tae said as soon as he saw you. Was it possible for your frown to grow deeper?

“Do you know where he is?” You asked, your voice quieter than normal. He pursed his lips together and leaned on the arm that was still holding the door open. 

“If I tell you, will you promise that you two will stop moping around? It’s insufferable here. He’s so detached,” Tae huffed, though you knew he was genuinely worried. 

“I can’t promise,” you replied honestly since you weren’t sure how this was going to end. “But I’ll try.”

“Try as hard as you can, yah? I need my friends back. Plural,” he emphasized the last part, raising his eyebrows at you. You nodded, wanting to give him a smile to know you appreciate him thinking about you, but you couldn’t find yourself to do so.

Once Taehyung told you where Jimin was, you were on your way.

Somehow you always found yourself here. The same hallway that you’ve visited multiple times this weekend. You peered through each window, looking for his lone figure. 

Of course, he would be in this room-- it was his favorite. You always wondered why he chose this practice room to be his favorite. Anytime you had asked, he always gave you a joking reply. You eventually gave up asking him and figured he would enclose the reason on his own sometime.

Faint music was being played as he rushed his body into a sudden movement. You could tell he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings by the hazy look in his eyes. The way his body connected each movement with the previous had you staring for too long. You snapped out of the trance he put you in unknowingly and softly opened the door. 

The music quickly filled your ears as soon as you entered. It was almost too loud for you. These soundproof walls must be really good. 

Jimin didn’t notice you enter the room. His movements were growing sloppy as his body became tired. Soon, he was collapsing onto the floor. His back was pressed into the floor, eyes closed as he breathed heavily. His lips were ajar, chest rising and falling quickly, and his hair was messily perfect. How could that be?

The next song played directly after the previous one and Jimin still hadn’t moved. You silently took a breath before making your way to his phone that was plugged in. You had thought the sounds of your footsteps would alert Jimin, but it didn’t. Despite the loud music probably silencing your footsteps, you found this odd since he was usually on alert regardless. You slid the volume down, but not completely turning it off. You were nervous if it were too silent, he would be able to hear your pounding heart. A part of you felt a little better about the soon-conversation when you noticed you were still his lock screen. That had to mean he didn’t want to give up on this, right? He hadn’t moved on already.

As soon as the volume adjusted, Jimin’s eyes were open and he was moving his body to see who was in the room with him. He was so out of it, you noticed. His eyes were darker than usual, the shine in them absent. 

You both were silent for a moment— simply staring at me another as the music continued to play in the background. 

Here it goes. 

You put his phone gently as you sat down, back resting against the wall. You figured the distance was good for you both, despite the small craving you had to feel his skin on yours. 

“I think we should talk,” you said, hating the way your voice came out quieter than expected. Jimin repositioned himself so he was no longer laying down. He ran his hand through his damp hair as he took in a deep breath. 

“I think so, too,” he replied. His voice seemed raspier as if he hasn’t used his voice in a while. Although you wanted him to lead the conversation, you knew you needed to get everything out first. Your unspoken words were long overdue. 

“I thought I was going to be okay with you and Yun Hee after we talked on that bench,” you started. You figured starting from the beginning was the best or perhaps you were dragging out this conversation in case it ended with you never speaking to each other. “I wasn’t though. Something about the two of you really got to me. I’m not even sure why,” you said sadly. You tore your gaze from him, finding it easier to talk to him without looking at him. Jimin stayed silent as he let you continue. 

“I overheard your talk with Mrs. Seung the other day,” you confessed. “How she thinks I’m a bad influence on your future. I guess I am a negative influence considering this whole weekend’s mess was caused by my childish behavior,” you didn’t want to fish for reassurance. You knew you were being unreasonable. You quickly tried to move on in case he tried to say differently.

“When you ate breakfast with Yun Hee, I was really upset. I felt as if you replaced me with her since you had just offered to take me out to breakfast. Seeing you with her when it was about to be me with you, was hurtful. It hurt me,” you continued, starting to play with the hem of your shirt out of nervousness. Jimin hadn’t said anything still. You peeked up to see if he was listening. His eyes were still on yours. His eyes appeared softer than before and his facial expression didn’t seem as tense.  He nodded to let you know he was paying attention and wanted you to continue. And so you did. 

“I know you said breakfast wasn’t planned— for both me and Yun Hee, but I just felt you should’ve declined and offered to just practice instead. I know how selfish that sounds now,” you said. “Tae had talked to me at the cabin about us, and at first I didn’t want to agree with what he said, I realized he was right. I was being hypocritical about many things. I shouldn’t have been upset about you practicing with Yun Hee when I was practicing with Jungkook. I shouldn’t have gotten mad when you invited Yun Hee to Tae’s cabin when I invited Jungkook.”

You wanted to include Jungkook and others, but you knew that wasn’t the point. The point wasn’t that you invited extra people, it was the fact you invited Jungkook when you knew Jimin wasn’t fond of him. 

“This whole thing has been eating at my mind since Wednesday. I was finally going to talk to you yesterday, but when I came to your and Yun Hee’s practice,” you trailed off. You felt that tightness in your chest that told you you were going to cry. You didn’t want to, though. You didn’t want to cry. You breathed in deeply before continuing. “I saw how close you two were— physically close. I saw your faces getting closer.” Although you never saw if their lips met, they were so near it was bound to happen. Were you willing to forgive him if he did kiss her? 

“I never believed you were a cheater, which is silly to say since I’ve been acting so jealous and petty, but I still have to know. Did you kiss her?” You asked, forcing the words out of your mouth. You looked up at him as you awaited his answer. The only hint of emotion came from the twitch in the corner of his lips. 

“No,” he replied— simply and matter-of-fact. “I did not kiss Yun Hee.” He paused, his mouth staying open as if he was debating on what to say next. He let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair again and briefly dropping his gaze from yours for the first time. 

“I thought about it,” he replied truthfully. His words pushed on your heart and you forgot to take a breath for a second. “I hate saying that,” he admitted and he raised his eyes to yours again. You could tell he was forcing himself to look into your eyes. 

“People say it’s the heat of the moment a lot, but it truly was. My emotions were scattered and I didn’t know how to pick them up and put them back together. I felt utterly lost,” he continued. “But I knew it wasn’t you. I knew Yun Hee wanted it, but when I saw her lips weren’t the same shape as yours-- when I saw they weren’t your lips, I stopped her. I’ve never cheated on you, Y/N. I’ve never got close to it until then. And I’m so sorry about that. I know my mixed emotions are not an excuse” 

You watched his eyes slowly become shiny from the water gathering in them. He blinked once, then several more times in succession. He wasn’t afraid to cry in front of you, but he didn’t want you to feel sorry for him.

“I know I didn’t kiss her, but just the fact I considered it, makes me feel like I cheated on you.”

While you couldn’t prove if he truly didn’t kiss her, his expression was so raw that you felt his truthfulness through his eyes. It did hurt to know he contemplated it, though. While you found Jungkook attractive and had some moments of gentle touches, you never considered kissing him. 

“Do you want to be with her?” You asked quietly. Did he only stop because he knew he was still in a relationship? Not because it wasn’t you, but because it wasn’t his girlfriend— in general. 

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “No, baby, I don’t. I want to be with you.”

“How did we get here?” You questioned, more to yourself than to him. Although you felt this was mainly your fault, you still wondered why Jimin never offered more reassurance. Everyone could see your somber expressions lately, so surely he noticed as well. Was he growing tired of your jealousy? Was he growing tired of you? If so, why did he just say he wanted to be with you?

As if he were reading your mind, he replied, “I felt hopeless. I felt anything I would say would make things worse. I could tell how upset you were, but I couldn’t find myself doing anything about it. Jungkook was always there with you or Yoongi, and I used that as an excuse to not confront you.” 

“I know how stupid that sounds, but I didn’t want to hurt you more. And I know inviting Yun Hee didn’t help our situation. I confess that was solely out of spite for you inviting Jungkook, which was wrong, I know,” he sighed. “I know you didn’t just invite him, either, but I felt as though you wanted to spend more time with him instead of me. You had been spending so much time together, more than me and Yun Hee, and it got me worried about what was going on between you two.”

You took in his words, trying to open your mind to view things from his perspective. You wanted to reply that you and Kook were practicing so much because you were extremely stressed about failing the assignment-- you needed all the practice you could get. Though this wasn’t the time to defend yourself. It was his turn to voice his concerns. 

“Ironically,” he said with a chuckle, albeit there was nothing humorous about it. “I saw you two yesterday practicing. Well, actually, I’m not sure what you two were doing. The lights were off and you were both close,” he said, slight confusion in his voice. Ironic indeed you thought. Was the universe trying to tell you both that you’re both dumb? Probably. 

“Did you kiss him?” He returned the question after a few seconds of silence. 

“No,” you said. “I-“ Never came close to. “We were just talking. Jungkook’s friend, Hoseok, said we needed a better connection for the midterm. Even Mrs. Seung said the connection was important, so we were just doing that- building our connection.”

He watched you closely. You could tell he was analyzing for any signs of lies. From the way his shoulders relaxed, you knew he believed you. 

“About the conversation between me and Mrs. Seung,” he started. “I don’t agree with her. I don’t think you’re holding me back. If anything, you motivate me to work harder. You make me want to be better in all aspects of life—  as a person, in my passions, in anything I create. I want to be better for you.” 

Your heart tightened again, but it was different this time. You felt like crying but not out of sadness. You were touched by his words. Throughout your two years together, he never spoke to you about this. He would mention wanting to do better, but he never said the reason. You had just guessed it was because he was a perfectionist. 

“Because of you,” he finished slowly. 

Silence fell over you two again. You felt as if there was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You wanted to get all your thoughts out since this was the time.

“I think we were too focused on the midterm that it took over our lives. It blinded us from seeing what we needed,” he paused. His eyes were stuck on yours and your moving hands suddenly stilled. You didn’t realize you were playing with your shirt this entire time.

“Each other,” he finished. Although this was supposed to be a touching moment, you couldn’t help the small snort that escaped. You squealed slightly in embarrassment and covered your mouth, looking away from his face to try to hide your expression.

“A-achoo” You fake-sneezed, lamely attending to cover your laugh. Jimin tilted his head at you, the corner of his lips dipping downward. 

“Did you just laugh at me?” He scoffed, though there was a teasing tone hinting. 

“No. I agree. We need each other,” you said and nodded dramatically. You forced your lips downwards to keep the small smile from forming.

“You know that was meant to be a very caring moment,” he hummed, standing up and walking to move closer to you. 

“I know,” you argued. “I can’t help if I sneeze at the wrong time.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Bless you then.”

Your eyes followed Jimin as he became close enough to touch. He sat back down, legs in a straddle as he stared at you. 

“Thank you,” you said as you felt your body grow hot from the need to be closer to him. You never craved his touch this badly before. You felt guilty for wanting him when you were still having a meaningful conversation.

“You weren’t supposed to laugh,” he pouted. The urge to tug on his bottom lip was strong. 

“I couldn’t help it,” you caved. “It was so cheesy. But cute,” you added the last part quickly. 

“Maybe so, but it’s true. I need you, jagiya,” he said. Fuck, did his voice just lower? Your thoughts were no longer on Yun Hee or Jungkook or the midterm. You simply wanted your boyfriend. 

“Come here, baby,” he continued softly, patting the spot in front of him. You didn’t hesitate to move toward him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, fitting perfectly between his legs. Your arms instantly wrapped around his neck while he circled your waist. 

It wasn’t long before his plump lips crashed onto yours. The kiss wasn’t as soft as you were expecting. He was moving his lips fiercely against yours. It felt as though he was making up for the lost time. As if he was about to be taken from you and this was his last chance to kiss you. 

However, you didn’t mind. 

You matched his pace, quickly finding your fingers in his locks. He hummed in content as he pressed you closer to him— if that was possible.

You jumped and pulled away from the kiss when you felt the coldness from his rings on your bare lower back. He simply chuckled, rubbing circles against your warm, smooth skin. 

“I’ve missed you,” you said and ran your fingers through his hair gently. He smiled widely at you, giving you a squeeze, before answering. 

“I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry for not coming to talk to you when you were so upset. I should’ve reassured you and made you feel at ease.”

You nodded, accepting his apology. “I’m sorry I got so jealous. I trust you, I do, I just got too caught up in my insecurities. I was so scared you’d lose me for someone better. Someone that makes your future more successful.”

Jimin's hand began rubbing up and down on your sides in comfort, trying to let you know he was there for you. 

“Let’s go on a date tonight,” he said. You raised your eyebrows. It’s been at least a month since your last date. You weren’t opposed to going on a date, but you were not expecting him to suggest this. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a no?” He teased, leaning forward to press his lips right under your jawline. 

“I’ll go on a date with you,” you giggled when he kissed the spot just behind your ear. For some reason, that spot was always ticklish. 

“I missed that,” Jimin said softly and pulled away from you. Suddenly, your and Jimin’s phone dinged. You went to pull out your phone from your pocket, but Jimin’s hand rested on yours to stop you. 

“Focus on me,” he pleaded. You leaned down and pecked his lips. 

“I will after I check. Maybe it’s our grades,” you replied, eager to see how you and Kook did. 

“But I want your attention only on me,” he whined, leaning onto your chest. You quickly felt his lips kiss the top curve of one of your breasts through your shirt. “Y/N,” he whined into your body, continuing his attack of kisses on you. They were trailing from your chest to your collarbone to your neck and down again.

Despite his pleas, you took out your phone. You placed your arms around Jimin’s neck again and rested your arms on his shoulders, viewing your screen from behind his head.

An email motivation from Mrs. Seung. 

You took a deep breath and clicked the notification, entering your passcode before waiting for the screen to load. Jimin’s kisses traveled back up to your neck. You couldn’t deny that it was getting harder to focus with Jimin buried in the crook of your neck— licking, sucking, and biting your skin. 

The screen loaded and your eyes scanned the beginning of the message. 

Everyone should be proud of themselves. You all learned the routine quicker than expected and all came up with unique partner sections. 

I was impressed. 

Next class, we will continue on technique and freestyle to get prepared for your final. You will be able to select the partner of your choice. Choose wisely since your final counts for 75% of your overall grade. 

Below you will be you and your partner's score for your midterm. Reminder there will be no grade changes. 

Y/L/N Y/N and Jeon Jungkook

88

Passing. You got a passing score. It wasn’t as high as you wanted, but considering she was grading your performance harder than the rest, you felt proud. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed, which had Jimin pulling away slightly to look at your cheerful face. 

“What’d you get, baby?” He asked, holding your back securely as he leaned forward to grab his phone. He quickly typed in his password and went to his email. 

“I got an 88! Not as good as I wanted, but I’ll take it. She was grading us harder than the rest, so an 88 is like an A, right?” You questioned happily. Jimin gave you a wide smile, the light tone of your voice making him happy. 

“You did so well today,” he praised and pressed his lips to yours softly. 

“You did, too,” you compliment back, and you mean it. Oddly, the thought of Yun Hee dancing with him didn’t make your blood boil anymore-- perhaps just a slight simmer instead. You felt more at ease despite thinking of them together. Although it did hurt to know he considered kissing her, you were grateful he was honest with you. You were also glad he didn’t kiss her because of you, despite the rocky situation you were both in. He stayed loyal. “I’m always so mesmerized by watching you.” 

He laughed bashfully and bowed his head to his phone, partly because he was reading the email and the other part from being shy from your compliment. 

As he was reading the email, you texted Jungkook about your grade. You suddenly thought about how he would feel about Jungkook now. Even though you felt more at peace with Yun Hee, you wanted Jimin to feel the same about Jungkook. However, you weren’t sure what you would do if he wasn’t. You couldn’t just stop talking to Jungkook because Jimin didn’t like him. Could you? Would Jimin do that if you requested he not spend time with Yun Hee?

The circle would keep going. You shook your head at that. It couldn’t keep going. You decided there that you trusted Jimin. More so now than ever. If he wanted to hang out with Yun Hee, you trusted him to stay loyal to you. 

“How’s your score?” You asked when he didn’t say anything for a while. 

“It’s good,” he replied vaguely. You hid your frown at his answer. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” you said. “Tell me. I’m sure you did great.”

He locked his phone and slid it back to where it was. “I got a 99. You know how Mrs. Seung is about giving out 100s.”

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion at his words. He didn’t seem that happy about it. “Is there something wrong? A 99 is great, Jimin,” you said. 

“Yeah, I’m happy, I just…” he trailed off. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Why would I be upset?” You asked and placed your phone on the side. 

“I know you wanted a higher score and-“

“That doesn’t mean I would be upset by you getting a higher score than me. I expected you would. She really likes you,” you said reassuringly. “And you should tell me things even if you think they’ll upset me.”

“I’m working on it,” he replied with a small smile. 

“Good,” you said. “Congrats on your high score, ChimChim.” You gave him another quick kiss. If it were possible, you would give him a kiss every second of the day. You loved the way his soft lips felt against yours. 

“Thank you,” he murmured happily. 

“I do have one question though,” you said. “How do you feel about me talking to Jungkook still?”

You were nervous about his answer since he seemed to really dislike Jungkook. He sighed and took a moment to think. 

“I think I’m okay,” he replied thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely thrilled about it, but I trust you and I can’t force you to stop talking to someone.”

“Or hanging out with them?” You added cautiously. 

“Or hanging out with them,” he replied. “How do you feel about me and Yun Hee?”

Him and Yun Hee. You didn’t like the way that was phrased, but you supposed it was because it was still a sensitive topic. You were more at ease, but it was easy to fall back into those dark thoughts. 

“Like you, I’m not overjoyed, but I can’t do anything about it but accept it. I trust you,” you said. “I said that before and my actions showed otherwise, but I’m going to prove I actually mean it. I trust you, Park Jimin.”

“Even after what I did?” He questioned. His expression quickly became sorrowful. 

“Sounds weird, but what you did kinda helped me trust you more. You were so close, but you stopped yourself,” you replied and began playing with his hair again, hoping it would calm him. “You had control over your actions and you admitted to what you thought instead of hiding it.”

“Aren’t you worried that since I felt those emotions, it would be easy to feel them again?” He replied. He didn’t want you to doubt him, but the guilt of his cheating thoughts had him doubting himself. He was nervous those feelings would arise again. Not just for Yun Hee, but for any other girl who got close. He never wanted to betray you and he was determined to do so. He wouldn’t allow himself to come close to those feelings.

“That’s true,” you admitted. “But I’m trusting you to not feel that way again. No matter the situation we are in. I’m hoping we will disclose our true feelings earlier and talk them out.”

Jimin let your words sink in as you continued to play with his hair. 

“I love you,” he said. His voice sounded desperate as if he was worried you wouldn’t say it back. He was nervous you had fallen out of love with him. He was nervous he was going to lose you despite everything you just said. Your hands slowed at his pleading expression. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you soothed. “I love you more.”

“I promise I’ll confide in you more. I’ll make sure you never have a reason to go,” he whispered as he hovered his lips on yours. You could feel the subtle brush of his lips as he spoke. 

“Never?” You questioned playfully. He hummed as he moved closer. 

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me. Didn’t you know that?” He replied, lips barely pressed to yours. 

“Maybe you should remind me,” you said teasingly. 

“That’s my girl,” he muttered before closing the space between you. 

Minutes went by easily when you were with Jimin. As cliche as it is, your heart felt whole when you were around him. You hoped this conversation dulled the pain from this weekend for good and that if it ever happened again, you would both learn from your mistakes. You learned staying away from Jimin took a toll on you that was troublesome. You never wanted to experience that again. 

“Let’s go,” Jimin said, lips swollen and barely out of breath despite your long kissing session. “We got a date to attend to.”

You giggled in reply, offering him one more kiss before removing yourself from his lap and tucking your phone in your back pocket. As you watched him gather his personal items, you realized how much he meant to you. Despite the dark times, you were both growing with each other. You were discovering what worked for both of you. You were also noticing more small things that he does without knowing like pouting when he is in deep concentration. Not to mention that you could listen to his soothing voice all day. 

Park Jimin was truly unique in every aspect. 

[firstclassthot]

Otp prompt #7

Person A: Are you mad at me?

Person B: No

Person A: Promise?

Person B: I'm not mad

Person A: Are you sure? I feel bad-

Person B: A, shut up I forgive you

[nissakii]

Scent. - a Haikyuu!! fanfiction pt. 12

Scent. – a Haikyuu!! fanfiction pt. 12

Art by @pottetto on Instagram “No, I haven’t tried it out yet. I’m thinking of doing a blind playthrough”, I muttered into the mic after catching the question about an upcoming game in the chat.My eyes flickered over the messages that were incoming quickly, but most of them were just reactions or weird requests, so I took a sip from the energy drink on my table and kept my eyes on the…

[crowladywithblackcoffee]

ao3, tumblr and wattpad are my holy trinity