#one of my fav live events ever for sure

[isolationaroundus]

Now this is what the fuck I am talking about! 🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘

[ilovepaigebueckerss]

the other women.

word count: 886 (kinda short)

pairing: p.b. x reader

summary: After the live incident with Azzi y/n confronts paige.

pt: 2/3 (I think there will be 3 parts idk)

NOT PROOFREAD SO NTM.

i hope yall enjoy thiss. im gonna remake part 1 because it doesnt really fit with this part too well. i mean its good enough for yall to get the plot of the story but ykkk. SO SORRY FOR MAKING AZZI A BAD PERSON YALL ITS FOR THE PLOTTT🙏🙏 tried to do the lil picture thing evb be doing cs i thought it was cute how we feeling?..

-love gabby💋

3RD PERSON

Paige wakes up to an empty bed. She blinks rapidly trying to blink the sleepiness away. Wincing as she feels the hangover coming in. She notices the advil and glass of water on the bedside table you left for her. There was ice in the cup indicating the glass was filled not too long ago.

She doesn’t hesitate to pick up the glass and pills and takes them with one big gulp.

YOUR POV

Whenever you’re mind is too loud you usually vent to Paige and cry in her arms. You couldn’t do that this time so you went for a walk. You honestly had no clue where you were because you were so consumed in your thoughts you lost track of where you were walking.

Youre phone pinged snapping you out of your thoughts.

my fav blonde🖕🏻: Where are you?

You stared at the message not knowing if you should respond or not.

Just out for a walk.

You respond dryly trying to let her know you don’t want to speak to her. You hated confrontation so you didn’t know what you were going to do about the whole Azzi situation.

my fav blondie🖕🏻: Thanks for the advil and water, bug.

You stared at the phone not even realizing you were crying until you saw the tear droplet falling down your screen.

That damn nickname. She had given it to you as a joke when you first started dating and it’s stuck ever since. Whenever she called you it, a wave of comfort rushed through your body. Now it was just making you sad.

“You okay?” you hear a semi-familiar voice call out.

You look up quickly wiping your tears and see this girl from your psychology class. Her name was Addie or something like that.

“Yeah” you manage to croak out.

“You sure? Doesn’t really seem like it.” she says chuckling attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You say smiling.

She smiles back. She was pretty, she had freckles and was brunette.

“Do you need a ride?” She offers still smiling.

“If its not too much of a bother.” You say embarrassed.

“Ofcourse! Hop in.”

PAIGES POV

Guilt is rushing through my body remembering the events from last night. It all happened so fast and it was a mistake.

my baby: omw home. 🤍 (hearted the msg)

my baby: got a ride from this girl

I smiled seeing her notification.

Theres even a video going around and im just praying y/n didnt see it. She could take it the wrong way. I would have to tell her eventually. She just cant find out through a video on social media.

FLASHBACK: AT THE BAR

STILL PAIGES POV

Azzi was being extra touchy tonight but I just assumed it was the alcohol. I mean she knows I have a girlfriend and she loves her.

“Paige, you look so good” Azzi slurs out running her hand down my chest.

I quickly move her hand off of me. “Thanks Azzi.” I say smiling. She puts her red solo cup up to her mouth “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight” I say grabbing the drink from her.

“Nooooo” She whines. I just laugh at her drunk antics.

She grabs my face and gets really close. “Never noticed how pretty your eyes were.” She says staring at my eyes.

I just smile awkwardly trying to get out of her grasp. Before I knew it her lips were on mine. I gently push her off me. “Azzi.” I begin. “Paige you know you want me just as much as I want you.” She cuts me off.

“I have a girlfriend. And shes the only girl I want.” I say sharply.

“This is bullshit” She spits, pushing herself off of me.

PRESENT TIME

3RD PERSON

“Thanks for the ride.” Y/n says smiling at the brunette. Who smiles back “Anytime.”

—

Y/n is fumbling with her keys outside of the apartment door trying to find the right one. Once you find the key she puts it in the lock and unlocks the door.

Paige immediately shoots up of the couch and runs to her girlfriend. “Hi babyy.” she says smiling and giving you a hug. “missed you.” she says in your neck.

The feeling of Paige’s breathe on your neck made you shiver.

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, missing Paiges warmth.

You let go of each other and you wander off into the kitchen while Paige goes back to her spot on the couch.

“Hey can we talk?” You manage to say. Paige looks up at you and hums in response already knowing what you’re going to say.

“What happened last night..” You pause and clear your throat “With Azzi?” You say trying to hold back your tears.

“Y/n I promise it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what was it Paige.” You snap all your built up anger coming out. “Because it looked like the love of my life cheating on me with her BEST FRIEND.” You say emphasizing the last two words.

“Please let me explain baby.” Paige says, tears pricking her eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You say coldly.

“You don’t need to explain anything I saw what I needed to see.” You say before Paige could open her mouth to speak.

You walk out of the door not wanting to make the situation worse.

—

thank you for reading mwahh!

[buckrecs]

2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

1. Galavano by @ichorai

Bucky x Reader

a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!

2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU

The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.

3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs

Bucky x Widow!Reader

The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.

4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle

Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader

You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?

5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers

Bucky x Reader

The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.

6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue

Bucky x Therapist!Reader

Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.

7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy

Bucky x Reader

You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.

8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy

Sequel to it’s all fun and games

Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for... 

9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨

Bucky x Reader

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

Mob!Bucky x Reader

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.

13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue. 

14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian

Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader

It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story. 

15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint

Alien!Bucky x Reader

In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…

16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.

17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨

Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking

Pirate!Bucky x Reader

Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?

19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨

Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.

21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller

40s!Bucky x Reader

Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨

God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader

For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.

23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨

Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.

24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren

Bucky x Reader

After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨

Biker!Bucky x Reader

Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.

27. Bygone by @borntobewondering

Bucky x Reader

You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.

28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨

Bucky x Reader

Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.

29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill

Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader

He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.

30. Carnations by @viollettes

Bucky x Reader College AU

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

[billskeis]

Hey so could you write a fluff type fox with either demon/ghost or vampire tom but like based off of In my room by ICP (insane clown posse)? Or other way around with reader being the ghost/demon/vampire creature.

Only if you’re comfy with it though!

(As always, ur one of my fav writers! Keep doing what you enjoy)💕💕💕

ᡣ𐭩 vampire bf tom

as you slipped yourself into your bed, you immediately got into the comfiest position that let’s you go to bed the quickest you can. drifting into sleep, you find yourself yet wide awake once more.

there’s tapping at the window, it’s him.

you’ve gotten yourself a visitor for the past few nights since you moved into your new apartment. living by yourself find you to be an easy target.

for someone who’s not human.

he introduced himself as tom kaulitz, and what’s totally weird about him was that he only ever came when it was dark.

you found it completely and utterly useless that he taps on your window because he just emerges from the dark corner where the moonlight was blocked out by your closet.

he was quite handsome you had to admit. black braids. a black bandana, black baggy clothes, the lip piercing that accompanies the side of his bottom lip was also black.

clearly there was a pattern here, but you didn’t mind. black was sexy.

the first night you met him you of course tried to knock him out assuming that he was an intruder and to your multiple failed events, heard him out.

he was a vampire, a lonely vampire who just sought out comfort in the night. he was talking about blood of course.

being that you kinda have a hero complex offered him to feed off you in order to make sure he doesn’t try to feed off other human beings and killing them.

he assures you though he would never go that far into feeding to kill someone, but you never know how true that is.

“hey doll, were you just heading to bed? i’m sorry,” he sounded genuinely apologetic, “no it’s fine.. just had a long day. work was rough.”

you got up from the bed and immediately brought him into your embrace, he hugs you back tight. letting go, he looks into your eyes and smile.

“you look awfully pretty tonight, such a shame you go to bed when you should be showing yourself off,” he caresses the side of your neck with his left hand, right on your waist.

his touch was cold, but in a way, comforting.

“you flatter me too much tom, hungry?” you ask as you lean your neck to the side a bit, giving him access to finally feed.

“m’ starving..”

the side of your neck throbbed, some part of it hurt, but it also felt good. you took pride in knowing that such a hot ass vampire would come to feed off of you and stay, listening to your promise of not feeding off others.

“you okay baby? i did take a bit more than i did last time..” you shook your head at him as you laid down in your bed looking at one another, “i’ve gone through worse,” “promise? “i promise tom.”

you took a braid into your hand and twirled it around your finger, you stared at the motion happening in your hands until you looked at tom who was attentively still staring at you, never breaking contact.

he reached out his arm to pull your body closer to his, the cool sensation of his skin is not akin to yours, but it just felt oh so right. the two of you basically hugged each other so closely, cuddling, limbs tangled together not wanting to be untwined.

you feel his breath onto your neck as his head rests in the crevice of it. he takes a sharp, deep inhale, clearly loving the scent you give off to him. you find it a little weird he does this but,

he’s a vampire after all.

“m’ gonna go to sleep tom, goodnight..” he kisses the side of your neck that he left a bite mark on, then caressing your back with the arm that held you together, “goodnight princess,” he said, his movements on your body allowing you to finally drift into sleep.

you wake up to the warm daylight of the morning with birds chirping, feeling around your bed you are met with emptiness. he’s gone, you don’t really mind it as the two of you solely know and are with one another because of a deal.

but another part of you wishes it could be something more, yearning for his presence once more.

you get up to do your morning routine and plan the day out in your head mentally, attempting to busy yourself as much as possible so night would come faster.

after the sun comes up, he makes his leave. it’s always been like this.. well, of course, sun is harmful to vampires and you weren’t able to prevent that from happening.

but if you had it your way, the fucking sun would be gone.

[radioapple-heathen]

My Top 10 📻🍎 'Multi-Chaptered' Fic Recs

(A continuation of my previous post. You can find info about my fic preferences and my top 10 'Series' fic recs here.)

1.) Somewhere down the line by kj_crwn

Complete (6/6). Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

So, just like my #1 on my series recs, this fic has Lucifer and Alastor meeting in the living world first before canon takes place while Alastor is still a human, and then reuniting in Hell as the events of canon unfold. Absolutely my fav trope. It helps that the writing is absolutely gorgeous!!! This is such a comfort fic for me, could read it a million times over. It looks like the author considered making it a series but, at the time of making this rec list, it is a standalone fic.

2.) Even As A Shadow, Even As A Dream by @winterveritas

Complete (2/2). Rated E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: AU - Hell. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Really, anything Winter touches is absolute gold, but this fic rocked me to my core. The way this author portrays Lucifer's grief during Alastor's absence, like. I've been reading fic a long, long time. It takes quite a bit to pull tears out of me, but I sobbed while reading this. Don't let that scare you away, this author is allergic to unhappy endings, but the gut punch of emotions, oh my god. Also, for those who love when extensions of the boys come into play, Alastor's shadow and Lucifer's snake have roles as well, and that is a huge headcanon of mine so it was delightful to see it in this. Writing is flawless, prose is gorgeous, dialogue is top-notch. Just agonizingly wonderful, beginning to end.

3.) Bedtime Rituals to Try out Before The Next Angelic War by @miribalis

Complete (8/8). Rated T+. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: I, like many others, stumbled across this fic due to this beautiful fanart and god. This fic is SO INCREDIBLE. The dynamics between the boys are everything????? This is a QPR take on them, and it's beautiful? Just gorgeous in every way, from the writing to the characterizations and the non-sexual intimacy exploration. ALLLLL the love for this fic.

4.) Lucid Dreams of New Orleans by @radiaurapple

In-Progress (14/15). Rated T+. POV: Switches. Genre: Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Wow. Just... It's hard to put into words the admiration I have for this author/fic. In such a popular fandom/ship, it can definitely be hard to find a unique take on said popular ship. However, this. THIS. This is one of the most original radioapple fics I've ever had the joy of reading. Beautiful imagery, STUNNING PREMISE, the emotions, the prose, THE RADIOAPPLE BOYS, everything about it is perfect.

5.) The Ruination of Lucifer by @syaunei

In-Progress (31/?). Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Not sure there are words in the English language to describe how fantastic this fic is. Everything I wanna say feels lacking. This fic has some of the most beautiful writing I've ever read. And it is such a delicious character study on Alastor, the inner workings of that man's mind is just insane. The way syaunei takes such a complex character apart, strand by strand, is truly phenomenal. I mentioned in my fic preferences disclaimer that I lean more towards top!Lucifer, but lemme tell you, this is top!Alastor DONE RIGHT.

6.) Something in Me Understood by @winterveritas

Complete (8/8). Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: AU - Human!Alastor/Devil!Lucifer. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

This was written for radioapple week 2024, and Winter spoiled us rotten with the frequency of updates for this one. Bookstore AU but make it sexy? XD I am trying to keep my gushing to a minimal, but really, all of Winter's fics are fantastic. This one also includes some beautiful art. AND AND AND intersex!Lucifer, which again... a weakness for me.

7.) Awake, Arise by iffervescent

Complete (14/14). Rated E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

HOLY PLOT! As I mentioned in my previous post, I definitely prefer more romance vs heavy plot in my fanfics, but when a fic can balance them both as experty as this one HO BOY! It makes for truly a good time! 🙏 Fantastic fic!

8.) Passing Ships by @selphhelp, @androidwiththeparanoid

In-Progress. (7/?). Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: AU - Human/Great Gatsby inspo. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Please envision this gif of the man screaming "Let me tell you something! Let me tell you something!" as I ramble about this fic because its a fucking gem, and it is so so so criminally underrated. I know its niche, but I think people assume you need to know about The Great Gatsby to read/enjoy it. YOU DON'T. I'm telling you, I remember ZERO about that book, and this fic has been an absolute delight??? Yandere!Alastor??? Vox's One-Sided Psychosexual Obsession with Alastor??? Possessive Lucifer??? IT HAS IT ALL. And the writing and characterizations are superb!

9.) Strange Appetites by Gotllphi

In-Progress. (20/23). Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: AU - Human!Alastor/Devil!Lucifer. Notable Warnings: Extremely graphic depictions of violence.

Notes:

Ho boy. I... I DON'T KNOW WHAT SAY. *gestures vaguely*. ITS JUST GOOD? VERY GOOD?? but also, cannibalism, violence, Alastor being a golly ol' serial killer, consensual but not safe or sane bdsm, etc etc. Also plot galore!

10.) Born for Adversity by fourshadesofgreen

In-Progress. (2/3). Rated E. POV: Alastor. Genre: AU - Human!Alastor/Devil!Lucifer. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

This is a short one, but I love everything this author writes, and the ending scene of chap 2 has been living in my head rent-free since they posted it. Human!Alastor has fallen in love with the Devil and tries to summon him through his killings. Fantastic premise and writing.

❤️❤️❤️

I'll be doing one more rec list for oneshots! I'll post it in a few days. I hope you guys are enjoying the recs!

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - epilogue

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | epilogue [masterlist]

// proudly unpredictable and awestrukenly trusting ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 12504 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni omg even more smut, lots of fluff!, established relationships, seriously just a lot of fluff, we get to see all our favs, gatherings, party vibes, threesome, oral m!receive, throat fucking, oral f!receive, slight objectification but its hot?, afab she/her pronouns

a note from ♡ tori ♡: ah okay guys, i can't believe we're finally here. the END of twrt. i really didn't think that it would get this much love and all the interactions really just made me so happy and like would make my days, every week, all the time. tysm and ah, i can't wait for you guys to read THIS. it's like, ah, my fav. <3 <3 <3 can't wait to hear your guys' last thoughts on this silly little fic. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

ever since you woke up 3 hours ago, you’ve been an anxious mess. productive, sure, but still uneasy. even now, you’re tidying, moving about the kitchen, wiping down the counters, putting away dishes, moving with purpose, quick, short movements from task to task. 

“can ya stop pacing? it’s making me nervous,” atsumu calls from the living room, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he emerges in the archway.

“how are you not more nervous already?” you ask, not stopping a single bit, actually pacing more now. before it was a way of getting around between chores, now you’re heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to heel toe until you reach the edge of the invisible barrier between your kitchen and dining room and then you turn 180° and repeat the process again.

it’s much roomier here than the kitchen in your apartment. the distance between your 180s is much longer than you had the luxury of before. you’re grateful for that, more time to overthink before spinning around. 

you’re grateful for a lot of things in this kitchen compared to the last. the countertops are much nicer, shinier, easier to clean. the cupboards are roomier, don’t slam as loudly. the sink is big, spacious, with a spraying feature that actually gets the food off of the dishes. the stove has gas burners and there are two ovens instead of one really shitty one (though, those were a part of the non negotiable luxuries list you and atsumu came up with months ago). the fridge makes ice without having to fill the trays and the freezer has built-in shelves. 

you’re grateful for the little things scattered around the kitchen too, the things that make it feel like home. the electric kettle is a matte sage and it matches your tea green dishware. the two cacti on the window sill, the hanging flowers to the right of the sink. photos of you and atsumu and friends, stupid lovey notes, oikawa and iwaizumi’s save the date, all attached to the fridge with tasteful souvenir magnets. the notepad on the freezer door where you and atsumu write your meal plan for the week. a dry erase calendar sprinkled with events in both yours and atsumu’s handwriting. 

“hey, c’mon,” he says, walking over to you, reaching out his hand and wrapping it around your wrist gently to stop your repetitive motions. “makin’ me dizzy too.” he lets your hand fall as you stop, walking a few more steps away from him, deeper into the kitchen.

you huff, leaning your lower back against the cool countertop, heels digging into the tile floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “seriously, tsumu, how are you not nervous?”

he leans against the adjacent counter, palms gripping the edge, “what exactly are you worried about?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble, head tilting forward slowly, base leaving your spine, chin coming into soft contact with your chest as you take a deep breath. 

you can’t see atsumu as he moves towards you, too busy looking down at your feet, but his voice is close to you as he speaks, “yea you do.” it’s soft, knowing, but patient. 

“i just…,” you trail off. atsumu waits a few moments, trying to let you articulate whatever you’re feeling and wherever your worries are stemming from, but you look up at him and you’re not making any attempts to explain, so he tries to fill it in. 

“everyone will get along, i promise. i know it’s been awhile, but that doesn’t mean that-,” he starts explaining.

you cut him off, shaking your head, “no it’s not that…”

“then what, baby?” he asks, nudging your legs apart, stepping in between them until the outsides of his thighs are pressed against the insides of yours. he grips onto the counter on either side of your hips.

you speak, small and somewhat under your breath, “we haven’t seen everyone in too long, i just really want everything to go well so i can enjoy the night.”

“come here,” he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, smoothing his hand over your hair as he presses a soft kiss onto the top. you let him move you, embrace you, wrapping your arms around his waist and finally taking a much needed deep breath. 

you’re already feeling so much better, but he keeps explaining, “we get to see friends, some that we haven’t seen in years, all in one place, under this roof, our roof,” he pulls you back gently, kissing your cheek and then your cheekbones, “we own this roof,” he says, kissing you again and you giggle, “and we get to just hang out and play stupid games and catch up with everyone.”

atsumu steps back from you, interlocking his fingers with yours and spinning you around until your back is pressed up against his chest, swaying with you. “and we will play terrible music and feel so weird when two obscure friends talk to each other and we don’t even have to worry about stupid downstairs neighbors,” he says, spinning you back so he can see your adorable face again, watch the worry melt right off of it as he often gets to do because he’s so good at the melting, “and everyone will give us gifts, some really cool and some really bad, and we get to just have a really great night with everyone all in exchange for hours of veggie prep and hundreds of dollars in sliced meats and days of setting up and coming days of cleaning up.”

well, fuck, you can’t even remember why you were so worried a second ago. 

“we still have so much work to do before everyone shows up at 6,” you note, no longer hurriedly anxious but still aware of how quickly time seems to pass when you’re being smothered in kisses by atsumu. your eyes flick to the clock above the stove that reads 10:15 am, but you don’t move an inch. even after all of this time, you’re still painfully aware of how difficult it is to unravel from a comforting atsumu.

bzz bzz. atsumu sits up, kisses your forehead quickly, and then walks back to the living room where his phone is buzzing. well, maybe it’s not so difficult for him. you almost yell out a pout, but realize that this sudden interruption should probably be welcomed, allowing you to actually focus on getting the house perfectly ready. 

“hey,” atsumu says into the phone, muffled by the distance of being two rooms over now. “yea.” … “great!” … “okay.” …. “alright.” …. “okay. see you then.” …. “love you too.”

you scan your list of things to do, open the fridge to truly take in the quantity of vegetables and amount of side prepping you have to do, put the last dishes from the dishwasher away, and make a tiny note to remind atsumu to grab the mini burners from the basement. “who was that?” you call out. 

“god, it’s a good thing we did all the shopping yesterday, or you’d be an even bigger mess today,” atsumu says, popping into the kitchen again, jumping up onto your freshly cleaned counter. 

you throw him a look, eyes narrowed and jaw open in faux shock. “i literally just cleaned that,” you say, gesturing to the counter he is now sitting on, “also, i probably would be a smaller mess if someone was a bit more helpful.” you can’t help your smile as he shrugs his shoulders, playing along. just as you spent the entire morning cleaning the kitchen, atsumu had spent the entire morning cleaning the living room. the two of you both knew this. 

you walk over to him. “can’t believe i’ve had to do everything today,” you shake your head at him, smile even wider as he leans forward and kisses it. “in return, i’d like you to go downstairs and find those stupid burners and also bring up the extra tables so i can set them.” 

even amidst the chaos, clock ticking down with your to-do list still impossibly full, atsumu has a way of pulling you into these small moments. he always has, your entire relationship. it doesn’t matter what you were worried about, how you were feeling, what you were doing, he always creates space for you and him to just enjoy each other. 

most of the time, just like this time, it comes in the form of teasing and poking fun. “y’know,” you tack on, leaning forward and kissing him back, “because you haven’t really done anything,” you explain.  

he wraps his arms around your waist, leans back pulling you with him, kissing the side of your face, “oh is that so?” 

you squirm to get out of his arms, but he holds tight, laughing now as he continues to press kiss after kiss after kiss wherever he can reach. “yes! it is so!!” you yell, laughter making it nearly unintelligible. 

“right, the living room cleaned itself?” he asks.

you can’t stop laughing as you quip back, “magic, maybe.” 

he lets you go completely now and shakes his head at you. “just like the table is going to magically find its way up here?” he asks, tilting his head. 

you place your hands on his knees. “nope. that’s all you,” you tease.

knock knock knock. the fear creeps up on you quickly, all rational thought leaving in an instant as you worry about how much time could have passed, wrong information you could’ve sent out, unexpected people that it could be. 

the crooked smile on atsumu’s face combats it instantly. “it’s a good thing i recruited back up then, huh?” atsumu says, nodding in the vague direction of your front door. your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but atsumu doesn’t say anything else, nods in the same direction again.

you make your way to the front door, tip toeing on perfectly cleaned hardwood floors and over brand new decorative rugs. just a week ago, this place was filled with boxes and disassembled furniture. now, in their places are the trinkets that filled them and the put together pieces.

the front door doesn’t even have a chance to open completely before you’re jumping into his arms, squeak of excitement leaving you, hanging off of his neck. whatever he was holding in his arms is set gently onto the ground so that he’s able to reciprocate the tightness of the hug. 

you pull back, eyes wide and smile even wider before wrapping your arms around him once more and hugging him even tighter. you’re so enveloped in his embrace that you don’t hear atsumu approach behind you, only notice that he’s there when he scoffs loudly.

“what was one of the first things i said when you learned that he existed?” atsumu jokingly scolds. you pull away from your hug, half turning to see atsumu’s smitten smile and teasing head shakes. “i said that you weren’t allowed to like my brother more than me.”

you take a step back from the doorway, allowing osamu to actually step into the house. osamu reaches down to pick up his bags, one neatly packaged reusable kitchen bag and a just as neatly packaged gift bag. “that is somethin’ he usually has to say,” osamu says, looking in your direction, “when people meet atsumu first, it sets the bar pretty low.”

atsumu reaches forward to hit the side of osamu’s head, but osamu ducks out of the way like he’s been anticipating it from the moment the thought popped into his head. “besides, most people can’t help it,” osamu loudly whispers to you, smirking, “i’m just the better twin.”

“never shoulda invited ya,” atsumu shakes his head.

“but i’m so much help,” osamu replies, leaving his shoes neatly to the right of the door. 

“yea, you’re just in time to go get stuff from the basement,” atsumu points out, nodding towards the basement door down the hallway.

“oh, absolutely not,” you step in front of atsumu’s nodding, blocking the view to the basement as if to prove a point. “samu’s gonna help me in the kitchen because duh and also so he can tell me all about the onigiri miya drama,” you explain to atsumu, shifting your weight forward onto the tips of your toes and smiling huge.

“god, i made a mistake inviting you over to help prep, didn’t i?” atsumu asks, but you’re already pulling osamu by the forearm into the kitchen, loudly excited to tell him every little detail about your new kitchen.

“you remember the old kitchen, right?” 

“yea, of course, was kinda shitty.”

“i know, i know, but look! look at this, samu, 2 ovens.”

“gas stove too?”

“yea! works much better with the pans you got tsumu and i last christmas.”

“oh! do ya wanna see the housewarming gift i got ya?”

“now?!”

“why not?”

“then, yea! duh!”

nope. definitely not a mistake.

atsumu peaks his head into the archway with every intention of telling you that he’s heading to the basement and asking you if you could think of anything else that was down there that he needed to bring up. instead, he gets to watch this scene unfold, doesn’t dare to interrupt as you tear the tissue paper out of the bag, throw it onto the floor that you were so worried about moments ago, dig your hand around inside to feel for the contents, and then pull out a wooden box. “no way,” you say under your breath, turning quickly to set it down on the counter with excessive care. “my own?”

“come on, yn, every time you and sumu were at my place when ya came to visit, ya wouldn’t stop talkin’ about it,” osamu says, beaming, watching you closely as you gently pop open the latch. 

“yea but then i went home and tsumu and i looked up how much it was and then we couldn’t stop randomly bringing up how much you spent on a fucking knife for 3 weeks straight,” you explain, shaking your head. you reach down into the box, running your fingers over the engraving on the side and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears as you read it. miya. 

“i heard ya had a lot of veggies to prep,” osamu says, shrugging, “you’ll get enough use out of it today alone, i bet.”

“this is insane, samu, fuck,” you say, turning towards him and hugging him for the third time today already. “thank you so much.”

“of course,” osamu says, hugging you back.

“not really a gift for tsumu, though, huh?” you ask.

“the gift for sumu was how happy it makes you,” he replies without missing a beat, as if he actually thought it all the way through when buying it, saw the price tag, and took into account how happy his brother would be if he bought it for you. you can’t stop smiling.

the food prep flies by, not just because of your incredible new knife, but also because of the company. it’s actually been hours by the time you get everything washed, chopped, prepped, and plated, but the entire time was spent catching up on months worth of onigiri miya drama and the trips that you and atsumu had recently taken.

the second that the door to the basement closes, you lean in close to osamu, “so how is it going with that girl who keeps coming in right before closing?” you don’t have to be as close as you are to osamu to notice how flustered he gets instantly. 

“i’m gonna switch jobs with sumu,” osamu threatens, shaking his head as he brings packages of vegetables to the sink.

you follow right along. “evading the question is just going to make it worse,” you explain.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, evidently evading the question.

“the last you told me, she was still coming in and you were still staying open just to make her food,” you say, turning off the faucet so that he pays attention to you. “is that still happening?” he doesn’t respond. “you have to at least give me that!”

he sighs, turning his attention to you. “the second that atsumu walks up those stairs, you don’t say another word about this,” he says, finger in your face.

“deal! deal deal deal!” you say, nodding along. “is it still happening?”

“and,” he adds, “you let me wash the veggies while we talk about this.” you reach over and turn the faucet on again, smiling. he continues, “yes, it’s still happening.”

“have you told her that you like her?” you ask, not contributing a single bit to the prep that osamu is doing.

“well, i’m not 12, so, no?” he replies.

you hit his shoulder, “you don’t have to be 12 to have a crush on someone, samu. but, seriously, do you get that vibe?”

“probably just hungry after work or something,” osamu mumbles.

“so nothing has happened since we last talked that would make it seem like maybe she’s into you?” you ask, squinting at him despite the fact that his attention is solely on washing the bunches of broccoli.

you hear the sound of ascending steps from the basement, the door knob jiggle open, and you know osamu does too as he quickly says, “i mean, maybe the one time we were chatting until 4 am.” the door squeaks open and osamu raises his eyebrows at you and shakes his head. you will get this information out of him later. 

it’s not long until it’s just a few short hours of everyone arriving. the decorating is mostly done, the food is prepped in the fridge, the tables are mostly set up. you entrust the rest of the prep to the miya twins- which might be a terrible idea, you’ll have to see once you come back downstairs- as you go upstairs to get yourself ready.

“i will keep an eye on him,” osamu says, flinging his arm around atsumu.

atsumu instantly pushes osamu’s arm off of him, shaking his head and reaching to smack the side of his head again. “it’s my house!” atsumu yells, missing once again and then instantly trying to hit him again. when osamu keeps moving out of the way, atsumu jumps at osamu, sending the two of them flying backwards and into one of the tables that needs to be finished setting up. the table bumps against the wall and even from your place on the stairs, you can see the ding in the freshly painted wall.

atsumu and osamu look at the wall and then up at you, waiting to see how you’ll react and how much they should start blaming each other. you just laugh, “the first of many, i suppose.” and then you make your way upstairs. 

/++/

5:39pm and you walk downstairs, breath held because you’re not exactly sure what the state of the house is going to be in, but whatever expectations that you had are surpassed. everything looks exactly how you want it to look.

atsumu and osamu are standing side by side looking down at the large, mostly empty table where, in an hour’s time, your closest friends will be gathered, enjoying food and each other’s company. “i still think we should just set up the broths and vegetables,” atsumu says. 

your torn between pulling out the camera or committing this adorable scene to memory, atsumu and osamu in the same exact pose, arms folded across their chests, posture mimicked, head tilted to the same degree. you opt for the camera. it’s more replicable that way, more provable. 

it’s over all too soon, osamu bumping his shoulder into atsumu’s and shaking his head. “i told ya already, stupid,” osamu jeers, “if people aren’t eatin’ for another hour, there’s no need to bring em out yet. ya don’t even have to do anything, just hafta take the plastic wrap off of em.”

“yeah, but when we’re-,” atsumu starts to argue.

“yer wrong, just be wrong, sumu,” osamu interrupts. 

atsumu moves to hit him again, but you speak up, “we can just bring it out when everyone arrives and settles.” the two of them turn to face you and atsumu can’t help the smitten face that quickly takes over, doesn’t even have the heart to argue with you right now. “seriously, everything looks great, guys, thank you.”

osamu sends back a quick, not a problem that you don’t have a chance to reply to, because atsumu meets you in two quick strides, kissing the side of your cheek. “you look a lot less stressed,” he says against your skin and then moves to pull away. osamu, the most perfect man in the world who can read any room and react with impeccable timing, tells the two of you that he’s going to finish cleaning up the prep mess in the kitchen.

you place both of your hands on either side of atsumu’s face, pulling him to kiss you. “you’re really good to me, y’know that?” you ask.

“ya look really good tonight, y’know that?” he asks back.

you shake your head at his evaded question. you know that he knows that. you kiss him again. “don’t you have to get ready? people are going to walk through that door any minute.”

“yes,” he says quickly, kisses you once more, and is then bounding up the stairs, “i’ll be 10 minutes tops!” he yells from your bedroom. 

/++/

atsumu is the third person that shows up to your party and that’s not including you and osamu. the first person that shows up is maki at 5:58pm because, sure, he could’ve waited for those 2 minutes and shown up right on time, but that would’ve been 2 minutes that he could’ve been spending with you. he earns a hug just as hard as osamu, harder even, longer, despite the fact that you saw maki just last week when he helped you move in. 

“you’re early, y’know that?” you ask when you pull away. maki steps inside of your house as if he’s been there a million times, leaves his shoes right next to osamu’s and nods. 

“2 whole minutes,” maki replies, shrugging, “issei’s on his way and i’m sure oikawa and iwa will be late,” he informs you and you nod along. sure, maki had helped you move in, but he hadn’t gotten to see your house put together like it is now. he takes the liberty of exploring the rooms of the ground floor and you follow him around as you ask him how his drive was. 

when you make it into the kitchen, excited to start rattling off everything about it that you love, osamu is in there casually on his phone. osamu and maki had met before, several times. it was inevitable, really, the most important person in your life other than atsumu and the most important person in his life other than you knowing one another. and you’re grateful for the fact that you don’t need to introduce or entertain the two of them as they instantly start a conversation because someone is already at the door and atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

the second person that shows up at your party is kita at 6:00pm on the dot. you know everyone that’s coming to the party, but you know kita the least and yet, the second that he starts talking, you feel like you’ve known him forever. you’ve only really met one other time, but kita steps inside and tells you how gorgeous the entryway to your house is and hands you a small gift and you understand very quickly why atsumu and osamu have raved about this person for years. 

atsumu makes his way downstairs, quickly and haphazardly and almost falling on his ass, at 6:14pm. he just barely beats out sakusa and hinata who show up together at 6:15pm. in fact, he’s there to greet them at the door with you. they’re the first people that you greet as a couple and it, along with the soft chatter in the kitchen from osamu, maki, and kita, is making the night feel very real. 

sakusa and hinata don’t need any introductions or hand-holding. even though they have never been in your house, they make themselves feel at home, walking in and leaving the two of you in the doorway as they explore. “this is crazy, right?” you ask atsumu, unable to focus on one conversation that’s happening and it’s filling you with a joy that is unmatched. 

he answers by pressing a kiss into your forehead and nodding down the hall where hinata is touching something that he maybe shouldn’t be and sakusa is scolding him, something about how he’s so glad bo isn’t here yet. you can’t help but laugh, taking a single step in their direction before the next person is knocking on the door. 

issei shows up at 6:16pm. he’s the first person to say the word, congratulations! to the two of you and it feels warm on your mind and in your chest. “maki’s already here, right? he said he was coming early to see you,” issei says, peering down your hallway.

“two minutes, issei,” you say, shaking your head, “he was two minutes early and it’s a good thing too, because i haven’t been able to spare anything other than those two minutes.”

“ah, there’s that college you,” issei jokes, pulling you in for a hug, “i knew it was in there somewhere, that interesting mixture of super stressed and in love with atsumu.” you narrow your eyes at him, but can’t get a comeback out as he continues, “where’s kawa and hajime, anyway?”

“come on,” you check your imaginary watch, “it’s still practically six o’clock.”

“true, but iwa did say that he was really going to try to get oikawa here on time,” issei notes as you shut the door behind him.

“and i’m saying that even really trying, there’s no way oikawa shows up before 7pm,” you shoot back and pull issei into the direction of the kitchen. you make quick eye contact with atsumu who gives you a warm smile and gestures towards the living room, making his way over there as soon as you return an affirming nod. 

“i know you’re right, but sometimes i just want to have faith in them, y’know,” issei says, the two of you entering the kitchen. maki immediately (and politely) leaves his current conversation to join you guys when he sees you. 

“who?” maki asks, quickly and very nosy.

“hajime trying to get oikawa here early,” you reply.

“oh, there’s no way that oikawa shows up before 7pm,” maki says matter-of-factly.

you grab onto his shoulder, nodding with your whole body because it’s really nice to have someone in your life who understands you as much as maki does. “that’s what i said!!!!”

the three of you catch up as much as three people who are in four different group chats and who talk to each other every day can catch up with one another. it is different, though. you hadn’t seen issei in months and maki hadn’t seen him in almost as long as you and you feel like you’re back in college in the best way possible and you really wish oikawa and iwaizumi were here.

you’re so immersed in your conversation that you actually don’t hear the door open. instead, you hear the voices traveling from the foyer, through the halls, and to the kitchen at 6:43pm.

“i don’t think you’re supposed to just walk in, rin,” you hear a familiar voice at the front door. 

“well, then, maybe they should lock their door, aran,” you hear a different familiar voice reply.

you excuse yourself, walking to go greet the two people at the door. atsumu beats you to it, practically running down the hallway and pulling aran and then suna into a half hug. “yo, careful, atsumu, geez,” suna pokes, but hugs him right back. “you’re gonna break whatever this gift is.”

“how do you not know what it is?” atsumu asks, grabbing the large bag from him.

“because rin just asked if we could get something together so he wouldn’t have to go shopping,” aran says before suna could offer any sort of bullshit excuse. suna doesn’t deny it then, only lets a knowing, lazy smile creep onto his face. 

“yea, guilty,” suna shrugs, “but to be fair, it was really expensive, whatever it is.”

aran nods, “it was really expensive.”

atsumu shakes his head, “you guys really didn’t hafta get us anything.”

“i mean, if it was just you, we wouldn’t have,” suna explains, looking passed atsumu and walking towards you. “thanks for havin’ us.”

you are pulled into two more hugs. you should have been keeping count of the amount of hugs you’re giving out tonight because the number is definitely getting up there and you’re not sure that it’s going to stop anytime soon.

“of course,” you reply, “thank you for whatever this really expensive gift is.”

“yea, whatever it is,” suna laughs.

you rest your hand on aran’s shoulder, “kita’s already here and osamu’s been here all day.”

“what? where was our all day invite?” suna asks.

“we’re literally here 45 minutes late, rin,” aran says, face unphased but voice questioning.

“yea, and you wouldn’t have helped,” atsumu tacks on.

“alright, yea,” suna says and the four of you walk into the kitchen. you note in your head that another thing you’re very grateful for about this kitchen is how much bigger it is than your last one, the open connection to the dining area granting the ability to fit everyone without having to worry about being too cramped. 

you note the different groups of people forming, the different conversations that are taking place. you’re still playing host right now, walking from group to group and adding a few words or giving a side hug or asking if anyone wants a drink.

“who else is coming?” aran asks when you interrupt his conversation with kita and sakusa.

“oh, my friends, oikawa and iwaizumi, and then bo, i think, right?” you answer and ask atsumu across the room.

“yup,” atsumu nods, returning his attention to the conversation that he’s having with issei and suna. 

“oikawa and iwaizumi are usually this late, but i’m not sure why bo is so late,” you say, thoughtful, but then shrug your shoulders. as if on cue, there is a knock at the door. “oh! that’s probably him.”

you rush over to the door and are very surprised to see oikawa and iwaizumi at 7:02pm. “i’m sorry that we’re late. i really tried this time,” iwaizumi says, looking at oikawa with a death stare rather than you with an apologetic one. you laugh, shaking your head. you hug them both, one arm around each of their necks as you squeeze them tight.

you hadn’t seen them even longer than you hadn’t seen issei, almost an entire year. sure, you kept in contact all the time, but you hadn’t physically been able to hug them and see them in far too long. they had just been much too busy with life and travel and wedding plans and life. “‘ts fine, but you’re staying later to make up for it,” you reply, still not letting go.

“oh, we’re staying in town for a few days, actually,” oikawa smiles, “surprise?”

“oh my god!” you say, indeed surprised. “that’s incredible!”

“yeah, atsumu helped us set the whole thing up the second we even made a mention in passing,” oikawa explains. 

“guess that’s why kawa thought it would be okay to be the last people here?” iwaizumi says, evidently still playfully bitter about the fact that oikawa made them late again.

“actually,” you say, “not the last people to get here. somehow.”

“dammit! no way?” iwaizumi says in disbelief. you’re about to question why that’s such a bad thing, but oikawa’s sweet smile contorts into mischief and told ya so. 

“ha! pay up! i told you, hajime,” oikawa says, poking his finger into the side of iwaizumi’s cheek.

“ridiculous,” iwaizumi shakes his head, “who else?”

“oh, just bokuto. i’m still really not sure why he’s so late. i thought you guys were him,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’ll send him a text-.”

“hajime,” oikawa says monotonously, cutting you off, “pay. up.”

“what? not here?” iwaizumi says, shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed like oikawa has just asked for something he should not have. knowing oikawa, he probably did exactly that.

“yes, here. pay up!” oikawa says, nodding back in the direction that they came from. you tilt your head curiously, wanting to ask questions, but just letting whatever is happening unfold.

“absolutely not,” iwaizumi refuses.

“no, because i said that-,” oikawa starts, finger in iwaizumi’s face once again.

“okay, okay, fine,” iwaizumi gives in. you’ve known the two of them long enough to know exactly what’s going through iwaizumi’s brain. there were times before that he didn’t give in to oikawa as quickly as this, but all three of you know that when oikawa starts droning on about whatever he said, it never ends in iwaizumi getting his way. 

“it’s in the car,” oikawa smiles.

“i’ll be back,” iwaizumi grumbles, turning around and then he’s gone again. 

you choose not to ask any questions because oikawa is not responding to your very confused face and instead starts asking you about your new home. you only get halfway into a partial conversation when iwaizumi shows back up at the door, shaking his head, sighing heavily with a white t-shirt that reads oikawa was right. “perfect,” oikawa says, placing his palm against the words and patting softly. 

he walks down the hallway on his toes, swaying back and forth proudly, “issei, come look at this stupid fucking shirt that hajime’s wearing!” within seconds, issei appears in the hallway, attacking oikawa with a hug and then pointing at iwaizumi, shaking his head and laughing. maki follows behind with less force, but all of his composure vanishes the second he sees the shirt. 

“god, i can’t believe i get to marry that idiot,” iwaizumi says softly and you know that if anyone else were standing here with him, he wouldn’t have let it slip out into the air, but he knows that you get it more than anyone. 

once everyone is settled, back into small groups conversing, you take out your phone to shoot bokuto a text message to at least ask him where he’s at. he responds in seconds.

> bokkun ♡ /  7:14 pm> SORRY. walking up now ♡♡♡♡♡♡

“well, well, well,” you say, clicking your tongue as you open the door. you’re there before he’s even knocked. “you’re very late, bokuto.” 

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry,” he says, leaning down and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into an enveloping, warm, tight hug. “but i have a good reason?” he says as he steps back.

emerging from behind him is akaashi with an almost embarrassed, sheepish smile.

“oh my god! i haven’t seen you in so long! ah!” you say, greeting him with a hug as well. it’s less warm, more friendly than bokuto’s, and you can feel how nervous he is. you met akaashi a few times before and really hit it off. he was easily one of your favorite people even though you’ve known him much less than some of the other people at this party. but he didn’t live in the area and neither of you were very good at keeping up with each other.

“i’m sorry i dropped by uninvited, but bokuto said that it would be okay and-,” akaashi smiles apologetically. 

“of course it’s okay!” you say, pulling him inside. 

“well, okay, i didn’t bring kaashi so that you would ignore me,” bokuto says, stepping inside on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

“me? ignore you? come on, you’ve gotta be joking,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off of him. “tsumu!” you yell excitedly, walking as quickly as you can with bokuto attached to your hip into the living room where everyone has migrated, “bo is here!” you emerge from the hallway. “and look who he brought!”

you’re so excited to start introducing anyone who doesn’t know akaashi to akaashi because everyone loves akaashi, but just as you’re about to start pointing everyone out and giving names to faces, akaashi speaks, soft and timid in this room of so many people, but clear nonetheless. “samu?”

osamu’s head swivels around quickly, following that voice that he evidently knows so well, because the word is already coming out of his mouth, before he’s even made eye contact with him. “keiji?” there are conversations still happening, people still chatting, but a few of them stop, and most importantly you hear it and notice it. 

“you two know each other?” bokuto asks, surprised and excited all in one.

for you, it’s more about figuring out what’s happening than being excited and happy that they already know each other. “you two know each other that well?” you question.

osamu turns away, tilts his head down to the floor and clears his throat, but akaashi isn’t that quick. you watch the blush spread across his nose and cheeks.

“yeah, i work near onigiri miya and i usually stop there after work,” akaashi explains, “samu- er, osamu is usually kind enough to let me stay and eat while he cleans up.” 

it all clicks.

you can’t stop the expression from creeping onto your face. the warning glance that osamu sends your way is just more proof of how heavily it’s showing. you have so many questions, need so many answers, at the very least want some sort of confirmation that you are as right about this as you feel and akaashi gives you just that.

he laughs, light and airy, and you can see the effects that it has on osamu. “just the other day he let me stay until like,” akaashi lowers his head, slightly embarrassed, “i had a really annoying day at work and he let me hang out in the restaurant until like 4 in the morning. and you had to be in at like 9 the next day, didn’t you?” he asks osamu.

“oh, even earlier, actually,” osamu teases back, “like 7 or something ridiculous.”

akaashi shakes his head, tucks a piece of hair behind his ear and exhales, “i’m not even going to make any promises that i won’t do it again.”

“well, i would never ask that of ya,” osamu says and you can feel how genuine it is and it’s not even pointed at you. 

atsumu shoots you a questioning look, very aware of the silent exchanges between you and osamu. you shoot him back a wide-eyed, excited expression and mouth the word, later to him. atsumu nods back at you, gives you a quick thumbs up, and then continues talking with hinata, sakusa, aran, and suna. 

osamu and akaashi practically don’t talk to anyone else that night, moving over to the quiet corner of the living room. osamu takes it upon himself to drag him into the kitchen, to grab him a drink, to ask him about work, and to tell him that he looks really nice tonight. 

“it’s just because i’m actually freshened up,” akaashi reasons.

“no way.”

“yes way. you usually see me after an 8 hour shift.”

“or maybe it’s just because i always think it, but we’re finally outside of my restaurant and so i can say things like that.”

a pause. “well, i think you look better in your onigiri miya shirt.”

“oh is that so, keiji?”

“yeah. you look good in black.”

“well, i’ll have to keep that in mind.”

now that everyone is here, you’re leaving host mode. everyone is settled. everyone is having their own conversations. everyone looks like they’re genuinely enjoying themselves. you scan the people, the different groups that everyone is forming and then reforming. it’s weird, but deeply moving, to see every single facet of your life come together like this. people that would have otherwise never have met, all together in the same room. interactions that you never could have predicted, going really well. and all within these walls, your walls. 

everyone eats and everyone laughs and you get to show off your new knife to everyone and halfway through the night, atsumu pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, and you know that this night was meant to see everyone and mingle, but you’re not sure that you want to move from this very spot for the rest of the night and neither does he. in fact, he orders osamu around from his place at the table, telling osamu to clear the table and to grab the game that’s in the cabinet of the tv stand. 

osamu doesn’t want to listen, really, he doesn’t, but akaashi starts walking towards the tasks before osamu can refuse. akaashi helps clear the dishes and laughs when atsumu starts yelling at osamu for making akaashi do his work and before you know it, everyone is at the table and all of the dishes are in the sink and the food is put away and there is two stacks of cards in the middle of everyone.

“game’s real easy, even samu can play,” atsumu explains, nodding towards the colorful cards. osamu doesn’t even bite back, just seems happy to be sharing a bench with akaashi. “someone draws a question card and they have to answer it or drink unless someone at the table uses their veto card which they can accrue more of by doing the dares in the other card pile, got it?”

everyone nods. “honestly, we’ve never played with this many people or this many veto cards, so it should be interesting,” you say.

“so, basically, no one is getting out of not answering a question,” sakusa replies.

“that is definitely what that means,” aran agrees.

“alright, atsumu should go first,” osamu says, “it’s only fair.”

“fine, fine,” atsumu says, waving his hand, grabbing a card from the pile, “who is the worst dressed person in this room?” he reads. “okay, actually, a lot of them are like this and there are a lot of people here.”

“well, are you going to drink or answer it?” kita asks.

“you gotta answer it,” hinata says.

“well, someone would be stupid to use their veto on this anyway, because it’s obviously iwa,” atsumu answers quickly, shaking his head and throwing the card down. iwaizumi nods in agreement as oikawa stands up in his seat.

“hey! that shirt is the best piece of clothing hajime owns!” oikawa says.

plenty of insults fly across the table as the game continues. atsumu wasn’t lying. a lot of the cards are very similar in nature, just calling out people in the room for various things like being a bad kisser or still being caught up on an ex. no one even has to use a veto card. they’re all harmless enough, poking fun and joking around, or no one cares enough to force someone to answer.

until it’s your turn.

you reach forward, getting out of atsumu’s lap for just a second to draw the card before he’s pulling you back into him. you and atsumu read the question at the same time, but atsumu reacts much quicker than you do, laughing loudly. if he had been drinking something when you pulled the card, he would have made a huge mess.

“what does it say?” maki asks, nosy, trying to peer over your shoulder and at the card before you read it.

you move away from him, cheeks warm, hoping, praying, if there’s a god out there, that no one uses their veto. you move your hand, ready to drink already as you read, “if you could have sex with any of your partner’s friends, who would it be?”

the only people in the room that aren’t laughing are akaashi and kita and even they are giggling and wide eyed at the question. “i’m drinking,” you say, already bringing the cup to your lips.

“not so fast,” oikawa says, slamming his veto card down on the table, “i’m sure i’m not the only person who would have done this anyway. and besides, i can use hajime’s card later if i need it.”

“no, you will not,” iwaizumi scoffs.

“fine, then you want me to take my card back?” oikawa asks.

“no, obviously not, i want to know yn’s answer,” iwaizumi laughs, directing his attention back to you. in fact, everyone’s attention is on you.

“i don’t think this question was designed to be played when every one of my partner’s closest friends are in the same room?” you challenge.

“tough shit, answer the question,” suna says, pointing his finger in your direction.

“right, and to clarify, that doesn’t include people that used to just be your friends like iwa and maki,” issei says, “because then obviously we know your answer would be me.”

you shake your head, ignoring his comment and taking a deep breath, “this is so stupid.”

“come on, ya gotta play the game,” osamu jeers.

atsumu squeezes your waist, pressing a kiss into the back of your shoulder, “yea, babe, you gotta play the game.” you turn your head and narrow your eyes at him. 

“ridiculous that the first thing you two agree on is making me answer this in front of everyone right now,” you scold.

“just get it over with,” atsumu teases, “it’s not hard. even i know it.”

“no you don’t,” you scoff. 

“so there is someone on your mind right now?” maki says, leaning forward as if that will make the answer come faster.

“i-,” you start, but anything that you could think of saying would just dig this hole deeper. “well, i-.”

“come on, just say it,” sakusa pokes.

your eyes flick over to him quickly, face burning, absolutely radiating heat now, you’re sure. and you’re sure that everyone can tell how flustered you’re getting, because there is an obvious answer in your mind, one that’s been in your mind since the moment you met him.

“obviously, it’s bokkun,” you mumble and atsumu, true to his word, does know it. he says the name right alongside you, laughing at how perfectly the syllables align. you and atsumu seem to be the only two people at this table that are expecting this answer because the rest of the table is in an uproar now. symphonies of what?!?!?! and bokuto?!!?! and what about me?!?? arise in stereo. 

“me?” bokuto asks, floored and flustered in a way that affirms your answer perfectly. you’re feeling just as shy as before and everyone is screaming around you and at atsumu and each other and bokuto, but you offer a small nod to bokuto, just to bokuto, and you watch him attempt, and fail, to hide a smile.

after everything calms down, you’re able to play a few more rounds, thankfully not getting any other question that tops that one, not even when you get the question that reads, was your ex good in bed? and you answered a quick yes and then pushed forward. 

the clock is ticking down, the night is getting later and later and as the game is packed up and put back in its safe place beneath the tv, people start to trickle home. hinata and sakusa, issei, kita, aran and suna. you offer goodbyes and thank you for comings and when you walk oikawa, iwaizumi, and maki to the door, you say a very sincere, “i don’t want it to be this long until we do something like this again.”

“come on,” oikawa says, shaking his head, “hajime and i are getting married in less than two months.” oikawa lifts his hand, showing off his dainty ring as if you forgot that they were engaged. 

“shit, it’s already that close?” you ask.

“yea,” oikawa nods along, smiling, “most of those dumbasses are invited too, so, it won’t be long, i promise. it’ll be louder, and i’ll be the happiest i’ve ever been, but it won’t be too long.”

you nod, hugging oikawa tightly and then iwaizumi and then maki. “seriously, thank you guys for coming.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” maki says, smiling, “i’m crashing your guys’ lunch tomorrow, so i’ll see you then.”

“obviously,” you reply, locking the door behind them once they’ve left.

the only people left in your living room that don’t live there are bokuto, akaashi, and osamu. before you can make your way back in there, atsumu grabs your forearm and pulls you into him, kissing you hard, hand cupping your cheek, fingers scratching over your jaw. 

“what was that for?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“because i can,” he shrugs, and you take that as an okay to start to move again, but he holds you in place, “and because look at this house we own together, isn’t that crazy?”

you laugh, “yes, yes it is.” you wait to see if there’s anything else.

there is.

“and because i trust you more than anything in this world.”

you cock your head. “okay…,” you say, hesitant.

“and if you want to have sex with bokuto tonight, i would be okay with that,” atsumu finishes, proudly unpredictable and awestruckenly trusting. 

you physically have to jump back, unable to process that sentence any other way. “what?!” you ask, loudly, and atsumu can’t stop laughing, shushing you and shaking his head. “no! what?! why would you say that?”

“because i’ve known that you’ve wanted to fuck bokuto our entire relationship and if you want to ask him if he wants to spend the night with us, that would be okay with me,” atsumu says, calmly. way too calmly for what’s coming out of his mouth, you have to admit.

you don’t know what to say. you can barely think or understand what he’s saying, let alone how to respond. “with us?” you ask for clarification.

atsumu nods, “i’m sure he will not be difficult to convince if that’s what you want.”

you’re afraid to ask it because you’re afraid that all of this is just some elaborate joke. or, rather, you’re afraid for only a second after thinking it, because atsumu doesn’t surprise you anymore. he squeezes your forearm, looks you directly in the eyes as you ask, “and it’s something you want?”

“i offered, didn’t i?” he asks back and you nod.

“okay,” you say, nodding again. “i’ll ask him.”

it’s easy enough to pull bokuto aside with osamu and akaashi being as involved in their own conversation as they are. you don’t really know how to approach it, not completely. how do you just ask someone that? but the second that you pull him into the kitchen and away from the few people that are still in your house, he exhales and steps close to you. and it’s not anything that you’ve said all night, it’s just how he’s always acted around you. 

you lean against the counter and he follows, shaking his head and standing right in front of you. “you’ve got a lot of cool friends, y’know that?”

“oh, yea,” you nod, punching his shoulder and then poking your finger into the middle of his chest, “the coolest.” he laughs and you can feel it against the tip of your pointer finger. you can hear murmuring in the living room. it fills up the comfortable spaces of silence. you look up at bokuto, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t really know how to ask this,” you say back, softly enough so that the people in the other room can’t hear your murmur.

bokuto tilts his head, “what’s up? is everything okay?”

“no, yea, really great,” you say, nodding and then you take a deep breath. just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it. “would you,” you say, you curl your fingers against his chest, “want to spend the night?”

the first emotion to come to the surface is excitement and then quickly after that confusion hits bokuto’s face much harder, like his mind filled in the blanks, but didn’t let himself get his hopes up. “like…,” he trails off, hoping that you’ll explain further without him having to ask.

you reach forward and tug on his forearm, coaxing him closer to you. “like…,” you say, heart beating violently against your chest. you try to evade his gaze, head down, focusing on the feeling of his soft skin against yours, nails scraping against it eliciting a tiny shiver from bokuto. 

he reaches down, places his finger beneath your chin, and tilts your head upwards. “like?” he asks, eyes evidently flickering down to your lips. it couldn’t be helped, the way your tongue swipes against your lips and your breath catches in your throat. you just nod. 

before his lips meet yours, you both talk at the same time, overlapping one another, but hearing the other perfectly.

“is this okay with atsumu?”

“like, with atsumu too.”

you put both of your hands into bokuto’s hair and he reciprocates quickly, putting both of his hands on either sides of your face and pulling you towards him, lips crashing into his. it’s like he reads your mind, one arm around your waist, one hand bracing the back of your thigh as he props you up on the counter to get closer to you.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper into your lips, leaning forward as if there was any space for you to move into. large hands grip onto the fats of your hips, sliding you to the edge of the counter, stomach pressed up against his, arms sliding down his back, fingernails dragging against the fabric of his shirt. 

bokuto pulls away, laughing softly, “so this is why tsum tsum comes into practice complaining about his back.”

“it actually gets much worse than this,” you say back, low and airy, pressing your forehead against his and kissing him once more, quick.

atsumu appears in the archway, leaning against the wall, not an ounce of jealousy on his face, but rather, a very devilish smile. you feel warm regardless, but you don’t make a move to untangle from bo. “so, are you staying the night, bokkun?”

bokuto almost immediately says yes, but then hesitates. “god, yea, i’d really love that, but i-,” he sighs, “i have to make sure akaashi gets home and-”

“i can take akaashi home,” osamu calls from the living room. 

“oh, you don’t have to do that, i can just get an uber or something-,” akaashi dismisses.

“no way,” osamu says, shaking his head. from where atsumu is standing, he can peer around the corner and see his brother’s hand grasped around the back of akaashi’s elbow. “let me take you home, keiji.”

“whose home, samu?” akaashi says so quietly that if you were not actively listening for whatever akaashi’s response is, you would not have heard. you decide that that’s enough eavesdropping, actually, allowing them their private conversation and turning your attention back to bo, having your own private conversation as you repeat atsumu’s question.

“so, are you staying the night, bokkun?” you mimic exactly.

he nods, about to say something else maybe or try to kiss you again, but it’s interrupted very quickly as osamu calls out, “we’re out of here.” you barely have time for bo to help you hop off the counter before osamu and akaashi appear in the archway behind atsumu hand in hand. 

you look directly at their interlocked fingers and akaashi’s pinkish cheeks and you tilt your head at osamu. osamu looks at bokuto’s hand on your hip and your disheveled hair and he tilts his head at you. you decide to call it even. 

you contemplate letting them walk out on their own because there is nothing else in your mind right now than bokuto, atsumu, and a whole bunch of fantasies coming to realization. you don’t do that. you leave bokuto’s grasp, walking towards the front door with akaashi and osamu. atsumu offers a goodbye to akaashi and osamu, unbothered because he’s sure he’ll see osamu a few more times this weekend before he makes his way back home. atsumu is much more concerned with having a very quiet conversation with bokuto.

you only catch bokuto’s concerned, “are you sure about this?” as his head moving back and forth from you to atsumu. and atsumu’s assured, “i’m the one that brought it up.”

“have a safe drive home,” you say to osamu and akaashi at the doorstep. “and a fun rest of your night.”

“yn,” osamu warns, but you just feign ignorance.

“you also have a fun rest of your night, yn,” akaashi says in the same exact tone, tugging on osamu’s hand, placing the other on his bicep. 

“ha!” osamu laughs, turning around and pulling akaashi to the car. it’s like he can’t get out of here fast enough. “thanks for having us!” osamu calls from the car window and then they’re gone. 

when you shut the door, locking it for the last time, you realize how quiet the house is without the different areas of chatter. in fact, you can’t even hear the conversation that you know is happening in your dining room. 

except, there isn’t a conversation happening in your dining room. instead, there is atsumu, the love of your life, the most important person in the world to you making out with bokuto, your closest friend of atsumu’s, the one person you’ve wanted to fuck other than atsumu in the last 4 years. your voice is small, not because you’re timid or embarrassed, but because you think if you speak any louder, a whimper will come alongside it. “can you take me to bed?”

the whimper escapes you anyway as a tiny string of spit connects atsumu and bokuto’s lips and as atsumu looks like he’s trying to regain composure and as he leans over to bokuto and says, “i get to do it all the time, you go ahead.” your stomach is doing a million flips and as bokuto approaches you, your mind goes blank. not that you need it. 

because bokuto picks you up, same hold as before. his touch feels familiar and his grasp feels strong. “i don’t even know where i’m going,” bokuto admits as he reaches the top of the stairs. you gesture in the direction of your bedroom and open the door as he walks close enough to it. he leaves the door open, lays you down on the bed and as if he’s pictured this in his mind a million times, he quickly and assuredly kisses down your clothed chest, lifting up the bottom of your shirt to press kisses into your stomach before sinking onto the floor. 

everything is happening so fast and you cannot explain how grateful you are because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re finally getting it. bokuto doesn’t waste a second in hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs, and ducking under your skirt. your thighs squeeze the sides of his cheeks as you feel his warm breath between your legs. 

“enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” atsumu asks as he sinks into the bed beside your head, smoothing over your head and lifting your shirt. you can feel both pairs of hands on you independently, but somehow moving in perfect time with each other. it’s overwhelming in the best way. atsumu doesn’t even take your shirt off, just pulls it up far enough for your bra to show and then pulls your bra down enough for your tits to pop out and the way that you are so clothed, but so exposed all at the same time is making you grow warm between your legs. 

you whimper at the question, nodding as atsumu runs his hands down your sides and then back up to your tits and then off of you all at once. without them, you can feel bokuto’s completely, nothing to distract you from how big they feel on the inside of your thighs. with him under your skirt, you can’t see anything at all and you want to watch him, but the fact that you don’t know what’s happening, relying on touch alone, is causing you to flood.

he licks a strip into your panties, harsh enough to cause them to push between your lips, digging his tongue into your hole, slipping past the fabric, thick tongue pushing them out of the way with no help at all. you roll your hips into the sensation. “shit,” you breathe.

so focused on the feeling between your legs, you don’t notice atsumu’s cock until he’s pressing the spongy tip against your slightly parted lips. you turn your head for a better angle, parting your lips further, opening your jaw, and taking him in your mouth. atsumu puts his hands on the back of your head, pulling you onto his cock. you’ve had years and years of practice with this which means atsumu knows your limits and capabilities and he gets to move you however he wants as a result.

bokuto’s hand creeps up your inner thigh as he laps at your clothed pussy, sucking the fabric into his mouth and swallowing all of the accumulated juices before slipping his finger into you. your jaw opens further, moaning around atsumu’s cock involuntarily and atsumu needs to feel that again. “shit, bokkun, ‘m gonna need ya to do whatever ya just did again.”

he laughs against your pussy, adding another finger inside of you and you already feel so full. his fingers are so thick, they’re so fucking thick, like four of your tiny fingers are jammed inside of you in two motions, but they’re longer than your fingers too, can reach so much deeper. you’re squirming on his fingers, moving your hips to fuck yourself on bokuto’s fingers and you can’t help how much your hums and whimpers and whines are effecting atsumu. “holy fuck, don’t stop,” atsumu says, hips pressing forward, hands pulling you onto his cock to meet his thrust. 

the angle is still slightly awkward, hitting the back of your cheek rather than sliding down your perfect, tight throat like he loves so much, so he swings his leg overtop of you, both knees on either side of your head, balls resting on your chin as he lifts your head and places a pillow underneath. “fuck, that’s better, baby,” he says, barely giving you a warning before fucking into your mouth, letting you hollow your cheeks on his head, tiny movements of his hips pulling the tip in and out of your tight lips. 

“she’s close,” bokuto announces into the room, talking about you, not to you, and you tighten around his fingers even more. bokuto pushes his fingers inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, pushes inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, and then he curls them over and over again, and you come so fucking hard that you can’t even imagine the mess underneath your skirt. 

“so fucking wet,” bokuto says, mumbles against your cunt as he moves your panties to the side, pulls his thick fingers out of you and uses the tip of his tongue to coax the come out of your fluttering hole and down his throat. the lewd sounds are filling the room and your ears even more than the sound of atsumu whining and whimpering watching his cock disappear between your lips.

“shit, fuckin’ mouth feels so goddamn good, fuck,” atsumu growls, pulling you by your hair onto his cock and you can barely breathe, spit drooling out the sides of your mouth and down your chin and neck. his strokes are long and slow, relishing the feeling of his length being squeezed by your tight throat. “gonna fuck yer throat all fucking night. won’t even be able to talk tomorrow.”

“fuck,” bokuto says, “gotta- fuck-” all at once you feel even more fucking full. bokuto slips inside of you without a word, stretching your drenched hole around his huge cock. you can feel it in your fucking guts, so fucking deep, speared. you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him in place because you don’t want to not feel him so fucking deep in you. you need to feel him this deep in you forever. 

you feel the breeze on your stomach, on your sloppy clit, as bokuto pushes your skirt up and out of the way, not that you could see anything anyway with atsumu where he is and his cock destroying your throat how it is. bokuto reaches down, rubbing small circles into your sensitive, swollen, pretty clit with his thumb. “so pretty,” bokuto mumbles.

you pull bokuto closer with your legs, moving your hips to meet him and he understands perfectly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you. his moans are lower than atsumu’s, more grunts than whimpers, and the fact that you can hear them both is making your walls flutter around bokuto’s thick length. “god, so fucking tight,” bokuto praises, “shit.”

“i know,” atsumu replies, rolling his hips, sliding the underside of his cock against your tongue. “feels so fuckin’ good.” he presses forward, pulls your head onto him until his head hits the back of your throat and then he holds you there. you can’t breathe, gagging on his thick head in your throat, but the noises that are coming out of him are well worth it. they always are. you swallow around his length and something breaks in him.

bokuto starts fucking into you faster, harder, the inside of your thighs already sore and very reminiscent of another first time you had. his fingers are gripping into your waist and your fingers are gripping onto the sheets, unsure of where else to put this pure need, unable to reach atsumu’s back or arms. atsumu sees you, hands moving across the bed, looking for somewhere to root as you take all of the abuse that’s coming to you. 

he removes his grip from your hair for a moment, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “pretty girl, hey, baby, here,” he guides your hands to his thighs and tears are streaming from the corners of your eyes because your cunt is throbbing and your throat is burning and you can’t breathe and atsumu is still there to take care of you in ways that you don’t even understand. 

you curl your fingers around his toned thighs and everything feels right in the world, everything feels more manageable. it’s something for you to ground yourself on, the feeling of the soft, toned muscle in your hands, against your fingernails, scraping and digging. “shit, doll, feels good, harder, yea?” you nod, effectively shoving atsumu’s cock down your throat even further. you dig your fingernails into the skin harder, harder, not dragging across, but digging into. “fuck, baby.”

bokuto is fucked out of his mind with the feeling of how tight and perfect you are around him and the exchange that’s happening in front of him with you and atsumu. it’s all so fucking much. he can’t stop pounding into you, fucking as deep as he can, slamming the tops of his thighs against the insides of yours, holding you in place with his large hands spanning over your stomach. “fuck, gonna come,” bokuto breathes, stare not pulling away from the way that atsumu and him are making you feel so used, so good. 

atsumu answers for you because you couldn’t be expected to answer with your mouth as full as it is. “you can come inside,” atsumu says, looking down at your tear-pricked eyes and swollen lips as you hum an affirmative plea. “she wants you to come inside,” he corrects himself. 

“fuck,” bokuto says with a shaky exhale, because he wasn’t exactly expecting that, but it’s exactly what he wanted. 

“and where do you want me to come, pretty?” atsumu asks, relentlessly fucking into your throat. the only air that you’ve gotten is in tiny breaths between harsh strokes and inhales from your nose. you feel lightheaded, but the fact that it’s about to be over is much worse than your inability to get a proper breath. 

you can’t speak so you move your hand from his thigh, dragging your finger down your throat and fuck, if that wasn’t the cutest gesture atsumu had ever seen. there’s a lack of pressure on your chest as atsumu changes positions, leaning forward, bracing himself against the wall as he changes angles so that he can get even deeper in your throat, can fuck your throat like a pretty cunt. 

bokuto watches this unfold and he can’t fucking hold it any longer. it’s so much different than atsumu, the way that bokuto unloads inside of you. he doesn’t still, doesn’t stutter. his hips keep moving at an abusive pace, fucking you even harder than before as stream after stream of his thick come coats your gummy walls. you’re coming around his cock, sobs trying to escape you, but failing because of atsumu’s cock crammed down your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin with every quick stroke inside of you. 

bokuto’s come is spilling out of you. it was inevitable with how fast he was still fucking you and how much he was coming inside of you. it feels like it’s never ending, coupled right along with the noises that are leaving bokuto, low and needy. even after he’s finished filling you, he stays completely inside of you, breath catching, not ready to pull out just yet. 

atsumu’s cock is throbbing against your tongue, pulsing, leaking, and he shoves it as far as he can fit it and you’re so sure that he’s going to pump his come directly down your throat, but then he pulls out, opening your mouth with his thumb, letting his tongue fall open in hopes that you mimic it and you do. “needa see it all pretty on yer tongue, baby, open, yea, fuck.”

he doesn’t even stroke himself, comes at the sight of you with your tongue out and messy eyes and swollen lips and gasping for air. his thick come doesn’t spray in ropes against the inside of your mouth, it drools onto your tongue. it leaks out of the tip lazily, pooling and collecting on the dip in your tongue until there’s too much to fit and a part of the fat glob slips down the back of your tongue and he grunts, replacing whatever disappeared down your throat. “all of it, baby, suck,” he directs, tilting your head, placing the tip between your lips and coaxing you to suck whatever’s left from his sensitive slit. you do exactly as you're told and as a reward, you get to hear the sob tear from his throat and watch him wipe away the tiny tears that threaten to fall. 

everything is quiet. no one moves for at least two minutes. it takes the entire time for you to catch your breath.

“fuck, shit, i’m sorry i didn’t savor that more,” bokuto breaks the silence, shaking his head, inhale and exhale heavy as he stands up completely, putting his boxers back on.

atsumu takes this as a cue to move as well, getting off of you maybe as he should’ve from the very beginning to help you recover faster. though, you’re actually certain that lack of immediate movement is what allowed you to feel as okay as you do this quickly.

“next time,” you say, or try to say, because it hurts and it comes out shaky and hoarse. atsumu leans down and presses a kiss into your neck and then the side of your face and then your lips. he would be more phased by this if it wasn’t a weekly occurrence. 

“yea, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu says, confirming. 

“don’t say that,” bokuto says, shaking his head, “because i really will.”

“then, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu repeats, a tiny smirk forming on his lips.

“alright,” boktuo affirms. 

atsumu leans down, places a kiss on your forehead. “c’mon, let's get you cleaned up,” he says, helping you up. you don’t try for a thank you or a yes, just give a small nod and move towards the attached bathroom. 

“do you have a guest room or something in this cool big house?” bokuto asks, clearly feeling like he’s invading. 

“we do, but,” atsumu says, walking out of the bathroom, over to the dresser and pulling out a big t-shirt. he disappears into the bathroom again, water running, clothes shuffling, and emerges with your clothes in hand. he throws them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room. “you’re welcome to spend the night here.”

“oh! no, no, i wouldn’t want to-,” bokuto starts, but is interrupted by the sink running again, teeth brushing, and now he really feels like he’s invading. but then you walk out of the bathroom, as fresh and clean as you can be without having taken a shower, and you wrap your arms around bo’s bicep. the feeling of displacement fades pretty quickly then.

“yea,” atsumu says, hand on the back of his neck, “someone gets a bit clingy after sex.” atsumu nods towards you and you playfully scowl back at him even though you know it is very true. “just until she falls asleep though. in the morning, she’s usually like, tsumu, fuck off, i’m trying to sleep. it’s weird, really.”

“i mean, if you- yea, i’ll stay if you want me to,” bokuto says and looks down at you nodding very convincingly. you walk over to the bed, pulling bokuto along by the arm and you crawl under the covers, laying perfectly in the middle of the bed. this wasn’t the exact use that you thought you would get out of your king size bed, but you can add it to the list of splurge items that are turning out to be very worth it. 

“didja need anything before ya go to bed?” atsumu asks because he knows it’s something that you would ask if you weren’t so unable to ask. bokuto shakes his head no. he can’t imagine needing anything at this moment. “cool.” atsumu shuts the light off and the room goes very dark. 

it’s awkward first, weird for only a few moments, figuring out your place in all of this, and then it just kinda works out. 

huh, reminds you of something.

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[kurosstuff]

✨️ (i think the event the still open i have no idea which sunday we were talking about, if not feel free to ignore ) but dragon!rosie x human!reader?

I just read the gorgon!rosie and lost mind (in a good way) so i thought 'why not combine rosie with my fav monster in a request?'

PMG THANK YOU-♡♡ I'm glad you enjoyed it@

Oo rosie as a dragon? Hell yeah I can see it~ I'm like- going all out of these their so fun to make

Warning(s): idk Honestly?? Horror maybe, bones.

Dragon!rosie x reader: food

You cursed your luck. Why did you even ACCEPT this? Agree to not bring anyone with? You grumbled, panting walking up the path up the mountain, dragging a cart full of.. you aren't actually sure. But it sure is bloody.

"Stupid ass guards"

Grumbling all the way to the top of the mountain, panting arms sore from the cart- how little of a break you got. Your running late as is.

"If it weren't the due date, I'd shove it up so far -" You cut off sighing. You're close to the entrance, and from what you know, if the dragon in the cave- that guards your very town. She isn't fond of swearing.

Maybe she's old-fashioned? Dragons do live for centuries, so.. that is possible.

But you couldn't help but wonder? Which dragon was she? There were two guardians after all. Both female. One not that well known but the other.. more often then not whoever is sent to feed her doesn't come back. Or if they do?

Not alive.

Shivering you prayed it wasn't her. Wasn't that horrific dragon. Eyes dark as coal. Soulless. The only survivor warning off anyone curious. It was a death wish. She is kind. But she is just as cruel. Curiously cruel even.

Grinning seeing the cave so tired you didn't see the skeleton laid bare around like a path. Like a warning. "Oh thank God." You huffed knowing the ritual by heart by now. After all if guards didn't do it. It was placed in the hands of the residents close tk the mountains. But you weren't ever told which dragon you'd have to feed.

Guess it makes sense given one will almost certainly kill you

Bringing the cart into the cave, you swallowed your nerves. It was quiet. Too quiet. Walking to the nest of foods, you grunted, putting the cart down and stepping back, hearing a sickening crunch. Stopping, you blinked, confused. Looking down, you paled

Seeing the pile of bones, you froze, shaking. The one dragon you knew never to mess with. To never upset. And here you were. In her cave- in her bones of her victim's. Shaking, you looked around the bag of meat even heavier than before a deep growl was heard behind you.

Turning, you paled frozen, staring at the dark coal like eyes- holding your hands up in surrender "o-oh hi my lady- im- I'm sorry- I was only here to feed you that's all" you choked out shaking ignoring how everything told you to run. To hide. To escape.

You knew if you tried, you wouldn't escape

Tilting her head in thought, the dragon growled slow, a rumble escaping her throat as she watched you. As if inspecting you. It was the longest two minutes or so of your life. Before she finally huffed a puff of grey cloudy smoke, filling your vision before a humming noise was heard. A woman stepped infront of you smiling softly curiously dressed in an old fashioned yet.

She wore those skulls. Those bones of her prey were as if they were decorations. Her dark soulless eyes staring right at you but you didn't find it as scary as you thought. You thought they were a gorgeous.

"Are you the new food carrier~?" Her voice spoke out formally looking down at you- towering over you easily. Her horns shun through her hat "well~? Shouldn't keep a woman waiting no?" She spoke again drawing your attention back to her.

"Oh.. uh.. yeah for today! The guard didn't w-want to ma'am" something in you. Told you that guards fate was just sealed. By the way her smile Hidden. Showing off her fangs you know you were right

"I see" she hummed circling you as if to measure you. As if she was debating on something. You worried she'd debate on eatting you. But you had hope.

Which helped you survive. Stopping infront of you her clawed hands gently held yours in hers as she stared at you. "Come. Rest little one I must insist" Turning her tail pushed you forward forcing you to move. To follow

Staring you wondered. We're all dragons this tall? Towering over you. You weren't on the tall side but still. You couldn't help but flush staring up at her mouth dry. If it weren't for her tail on your back pushing you forward. You wouldn't have willed your legs to move.

Guiding you fully down the cave she hummed at the silence. As if she expected it. "I am Rosie~" she spoke softly as if she was careful to not spook you. "And you must be?" She hummed eyeing you carefully

Squeaking out your reply, she hummed softly, repeating your name a couple of times before nodding. As if approving of such a name. Guiding you to a table, she helped you sit down, easing you into the seat. "Now, now~ relax. I won't eat you~ if I was. I would have by now. " Turning, she went to the cabinet "besides I'd never show my human form to my food anyways~ not the type to tease my food...that much~~"

Looking around, you shuddered bones laid around the room. Everywhere. Before you spoke, unable to stop yourself from asking, "How is it a house in a mountain?" Flushed, you glanced back, hoping you didn't offend her.

"Well little one.. I wanted a home like feel. So I had some humans make it like a home on the inside.. clever right ~?" Laughing seeing you nod in agreement patting your shoulder mindful of her Claws

"Now. Tell me exactly.. how you wound up coming here~?"

-

It didn't take long to realize Rosie? Loved Drama. Loved to talk about the gossip from the town- maybe that's how you were sucked into a laughing with the dragon you feared not so long ago that same day

"Yeah! I can't believe he didn't get caught by that stupid-"

"-You know"

Rosie cut your story off, sipping her blood tea(which she made you ALL to aware of) clearing your throat from the small laugh you had you going on. "Y-yeah?"

"We've been talking for hours, little one~" she purred, gesturing to the front of the cave. How dark is it getting. Standing up she smiled "oh as much as I'd love it for you to stay.. to talk more. It is dangerous especially for a human.." Gently helping you up brushing imaginary dirt off of you.

"Oh-! Y-yeah.. sorry ma'am-"

"rosie"

"Right.. yes. Rosie- I should be getting back. Make my report that you got your food. " Smiling at your correction, she nodded with a hum a hand on your lower back guiding you to the entrance

"My dear. Do be sure to tell him. I only accept you as my new caretaker, " she hummed, smirking at your flushed face."Maybe I shall take you as my personal one. Staying in my cave? Oh, I'm kidding, darling~" laughing at the flushed stuttering mess you got.

"Go on. It's not a goodbye~ I'll see you later little one~ better get to your cabin before the dogs come out~"

With a nod, you rushed off. Racing down the mountain, your limbs, thankfully, not as sore as this morning. To make your report ignoring the horrified look the man had once you told him Rosie's order.

It wasn't until you were in the bed. About to sleep before you sat up. Shivering slightly. How did Rosie know that? Know you were in a cabin? The only cabin in town?

How did she know?

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Ten: Truth

Chapter WC: 8,808

Chapter Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Checked the wordcount on the completed chapters doc today and it's over 100k already?? anyway the next few chapters are for real my fav. i live for the drama

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

"I can't believe they gave me Archive duty," Ahsoka groans, rolling her eyes. 

You smirk, turning the page of the dusty tomb lying in front of you. You had managed to escape the ire of the Council thanks to Obi-Wan, but Ahsoka was not so lucky. She was sentenced to "volunteer work" at the Temple Archives indefinitely, a punishment that she seemed to take very personally. 

You had offered to keep her company while you were still recovering, and you had to admit, when you weren’t forced to be here, it was kind of fun. There was something calming about the Archives, the smell of old paper and leather, the dim light, the quiet.

You'd spent more time here than most other Jedi, and even though the work was often tedious, it was something you found peace in. Ahsoka didn't seem to feel the same.

"It's not that bad," you say, your eyes scanning the page. "Besides, if you hadn't disobeyed Anakin, this wouldn't have happened."

"Well, maybe, if he hadn't given the order in the first place—"

"Ahsoka."

"I know, I know," she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She pushes the crate she was organizing to the side and collapses on a nearby bench, her arms crossed. "He's just...so frustrating sometimes."

"Yeah," you chuckle. “He is.”

“Did you ever feel that way about Master Yaddle?"

"Sometimes," you reply. You glance up from your reading and smile at her. "But I’m sure I frustrated her much more. I’m still not sure why she took me as her Padawan, honestly."

"Because you're a great Jedi," Ahsoka points out. She grins and leans forward, her chin resting on her hands. "And, because, despite what you say, you're actually pretty nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah," she laughs. "You're one of the few Jedi I can talk to about things. You listen. Not everyone does."

"You could talk to Master Plo, or Anakin, or even Obi-Wan," you say, closing the book. You look at her, a frown on your face. "There's a lot more Jedi in the Temple."

"I know, but..." Her voice trails off, and her expression grows sad, the humor fading. “You’re the only one who’s not trying to teach me some kind of lesson. Who isn’t expecting something from me. You don't care that I'm young, or that I'm not a real Jedi yet, or—"

"You are a real Jedi," you interrupt. You stand and walk over to her, taking a seat beside her, your hands resting on your knees. "Don't ever doubt that. I don't. I know how strong you are, and I know what you're capable of. And, so does Anakin. Don't let this one mistake define you."

She sighs and rests her elbows on her thighs, her chin cupped in her palms. "I know, but it's hard," she says quietly. "Everyone has an opinion, and they're all just waiting for me to mess up again. To prove that I'm not fit to be a Jedi."

"That's not true," you tell her. "The Council might be a little disappointed with your actions, but no one doubts that you belong here, Ahsoka. No one."

She doesn't respond.

You watch her carefully, your brow furrowed. It isn’t lost on you how similar her words are to your own internal monologue, and how often she mirrors your own thoughts and fears. She’s just a kid, and you remember being her age, the pressure, the weight of expectation, and the struggle to be enough.

While you doubt you’ll ever feel like you measure up, or will ever stop feeling like an outsider, you know, deep down, that no matter what happens, the Order is where you belong. You belong with the Jedi. There is no other place for you than here.

"If it makes you feel any better," you say, trying to lighten the mood. You nudge her shoulder. “You’re only continuing the tradition of disobedience set by your Masters before you. Anakin, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon—“ you pause and let out a sharp breath before continuing “—and his master have all done their time here. Practically a rite of passage, I’d say.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges you back. "You're not funny."

"Sure I am."

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe Master Kenobi ever had to do this," she scoffs. "I mean, he's like, the perfect Jedi."

"Ha! Well, I guess you'd be surprised." 

You smirk, remembering the many times Obi-Wan had come to your aid during your years as younglings, covering for you and, often, getting himself into just as much trouble as you.

It was always Obi-Wan, with his clever words and quick wit, who got the two of you out of hot water, and you always found it amusing how no one seemed to realize it was him who had started the whole thing. It was like people couldn’t see past the image they had of him, or their assumptions, and it made him the perfect accomplice. 

"We caused plenty of chaos back in the day,” you add with a fond smile. "I can't even begin to tell you all the stories I could share. I have years worth of them."

"Oh really?"

"Yep," you confirm. "Obi-Wan was a terror."

Ahsoka snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Now I know you're lying."

"It's true. He was a troublemaker. Still is, if I'm being honest,” you laugh. "We were the worst influences on each other. That's probably why we became such good friends."

"I can't imagine Master Obi-Wan doing anything even close to disobeying the rules," Ahsoka says. She leans forward, her chin in her palms, a mischievous grin on her face. You smile back and cross your legs, settling into the bench. "I'm going to need proof, or a story. Either will do."

"What do you want to hear?"

"Something crazy," she prompts. "Something he would never tell me. Something wild. And then I'll believe it."

You chuckle and lean back against the wall, your eyes drifting, the memories filling your mind. You could think of a hundred different tales, many of them far too embarrassing to repeat, and most of them you doubted would be appropriate to tell an impressionable teenager. You were not the best storyteller, but if Ahsoka wanted entertainment, you could oblige. If only a little.

"Okay, okay, let's see..." you muse, thinking. "Okay, here's one. When I was thirteen years old, Obi-Wan was a newly made Padawan, and I was still a youngling. One day, we had a day off from training, and, well, let's just say, we weren't exactly sticking around the Temple."

"Where did you go?"

"Well, Obi-Wan had heard about this place," you continue, smiling. "Apparently, there was this abandoned warehouse deep in the lower levels, converted it into a kind of club. It was the coolest thing we had ever seen, and we were determined to get in. Only problem was, we were a bit too young. Not that that stopped us. We had been going to this club, sneaking out, for about a week, before a member of the Jedi Council caught us."

"Which one?"

"Master Plo, actually,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips. "We got lucky. I think he was more impressed than upset."

Ahsoka lets out a snort and covers her mouth. "No."

"Yes," you insist. "He caught us sneaking out of the Temple and followed us. We made it all the way to the warehouse before we realized he was right behind us."

"How did you get away with it?"

"We didn't," you chuckle. "I think we had a few choice words with the Council that night. But we got to go back to the club a few more times before we were caught again. Obi-Wan managed to get himself banned a few months later, though. Something about trying to fight a guy over a girl."

You look away, biting your cheek. Ahsoka didn't need to know that you were the girl. That it was the first, and the only time that the two of you had kissed. You were both so young, and it was nothing more than a childish attempt at romance. It was a bittersweet memory, tinged with a touch of guilt, and you had long ago buried it.

"I'll have to ask him about that," she teases. "I bet there's a lot more stories he'd never tell me."

"You can try," you challenge. "Good luck."

"What was he like?" Ahsoka asks. She shifts on the bench, turning her body toward you, her eyes sparkling. "Before he was a Knight, or a Master, or...all that. What was he like back then?"

"He was different," you tell her. You hesitate, your brow furrowing, and you shrug. "He was...happier. More carefree. He didn't take things as seriously as he does now."

"He's still pretty carefree," Ahsoka points out. She tilts her head, her gaze growing thoughtful, and a small frown tugs at her lips. "I've never really seen him angry, or upset. Except for when you were in the bacta tank."

You pause. You hadn't thought much about Obi-Wan while you were recovering. Your mind had been a bit preoccupied with other matters, but now, looking back, you had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders, and the way his jaw clenched every time someone brought up the battle. It had only been a week since your return, and yet, he seemed to have aged ten years, and the worry was still plain on his face. 

Even now, there was still a distance, a coldness, between the two of you. He hadn't been by the Healers Ward again, and he'd avoided you at the debriefing with the Council even though he'd spoken in your favor.

"He was worried," you say simply. You glance down at your hands and twist your fingers, swallowing the sudden tightness in your throat.

"I’m sure you’ve noticed that we share a bond. Something like a Master and Padawan bond. It's stronger, because we were raised together, and because our abilities complement each other, and, well, because we've spent our whole lives together."

"What is it like?" she asks. Her eyes are wide, and she's listening intently, her attention focused on you. "Having a bond with someone? Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," you confess. You let out a heavy sigh, and you look down, your expression troubled. "When the other person is in danger, or suffering, it can be difficult to deal with. And, sometimes, it can be overwhelming. Obi-Wan is quite skilled at shielding, but...I’m not so fortunate. I’m sure feeling my pain was not easy for him."

It’s an excuse, and you know it. But the truth was much harder to admit. Obi-Wan being upset enough at your injuries that Ahsoka had picked up on it was an uncomfortable thought. The reality of how deeply you had hurt him, and the fact that you hadn’t even considered how he would feel, was not something you were prepared to deal with. Not right now. Perhaps not ever.

"You're close," she comments, her voice soft. She hesitates, and she gives you a sad smile, her eyes searching yours. "I...I don't have a bond with Anakin. Not like you and Master Kenobi. I've always wondered what it would be like."

"It's strange," you reply slowly. You shrug and give her a rueful smile. "It’s been this way for so long, and I just...I don't know. I don't know what it's like not to have it. The closest we ever came to losing it completely was after..."

You trail off, your smile fading, and you turn away, unable to meet her eyes. "After the Naboo incident. Things were never the same, after that."

Ahsoka doesn't say anything.

You can't blame her. You don't have the words. There's so much left unsaid, so much you could tell her, but you know you won't. It's not the right time. Perhaps it will never be the right time. And so, instead, you change the subject, pushing the pain and the regret away, burying it under the weight of a smile. 

"What else do you want to know?"

Ahsoka's gaze grows thoughtful, and she leans back, resting her head against the wall, her brow furrowed. She looks up, and her lips purse, her fingers tapping against her thighs. 

Finally, she smiles, a wicked glint in her eyes. "What about Rex?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel the color draining from your face, the shock making you speechless. You hadn't expected that question, and it takes a moment for you to regain your composure, your mind scrambling to think of a response. But Ahsoka doesn't wait. 

Instead, she keeps talking, the grin growing. "Rex told Anakin that you had saved his life."

"Yes," you say cautiously. You frown, and you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. "And?"

"Well," she draws the word out, and she sits up, her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped. "Anakin said he'd never seen you act like that before."

You open your mouth to respond, and then close it, unsure of what to say.

"So," she presses. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Friends."

"Yes," you snap. "Of course we're friends. He's a friend. We're friends. Is that a problem?"

"No, no," she replies quickly. "Of course not."

"Good."

"But—"

"Ahsoka," you interrupt, and you let out a sharp breath, your fingers rubbing your temples. "There is no but. Rex is a friend. I saved his life. End of story."

"Sure," she agrees. Her expression is far too innocent, and you're not going to play into whatever she's thinking. You stand and return to the table, picking up the book, and Ahsoka follows, sitting down next to you. "I just thought, maybe, there was something else."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says, feigning nonchalance. She pulls another book off the pile and begins leafing through the pages, a casual, carefree tone to her voice. "He's been asking about you."

Your head snaps up, and you stare at her, the shock giving way to surprise, and then hope, the flutter in your chest returning. "He has?"

Realizing your mistake, you bite your cheek and look back down at the book, your heart pounding, and your throat suddenly dry. You swallow, and you try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks,and the feeling in your chest. 

Rex had been asking about you. He had talked to Anakin about you. Those were perfectly normal, innocent, things for him to do. Nothing strange. Nothing to indicate anything more.

"Mmhmm," Ahsoka hums, her eyes flicking up, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. She looks back down, the grin growing, and she nudges your shoulder. "He was worried the Council was going to punish you for saving him."

"That's it?"

"I'm not sure," she muses. She tilts her head, her fingers drumming against the book, her expression thoughtful. "He seemed pretty concerned. More than he normally is."

You shake your head and lean forward, pretending to be engrossed in the text.

"I'm sure he was just being polite," you mumble. You keep your eyes on the page, but your mind is elsewhere, and the words blur before your eyes. You force yourself to keep reading, not daring to look up. "I doubt he was all that worried."

"Hm," Ahsoka says.

You wait a few more moments, and then, when Ahsoka doesn't speak, you glance over at her. She's looking at you, her lips pursed, a knowing smile on her face. You stare at her, and she stares back, and finally, you roll your eyes, letting out a sigh.

"Fine," you grumble. You shut the book and shove it away, leaning back in the chair, your arms crossed. "We are friends, and I enjoy his company. Is that what you want to hear?"

Ahsoka shrugs and grins, and you can't help the smile tugging at your lips.

"He's a good person," she says. She's not looking at you anymore, but she's smiling, and you can tell she's holding back a laugh. "Very loyal."

"Yes, he is," you agree. You look away, a frown forming, and your voice drops. "And a good soldier."

There's a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, a heaviness, a sudden sadness that you hadn't expected. You're not sure what brought it on, but it's there, a reminder of the truth, of the reality. You swallow the lump in your throat, and you glance down, your fingers tracing the cover of the book, a strange numbness settling in.

"Yeah." Ahsoka looks at you, and her brow furrows, the teasing tone gone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you lie. You force a smile and shrug. "Everything's fine."

"You're sure?" she asks. She looks skeptical, her head tilted, and she frowns. "You look...upset."

"I'm not."

"You don't have to lie," she says. She shifts in her chair, and she turns to face you, her hand resting on your arm, her expression earnest. "If there's something wrong, you can tell me. I won't judge."

"I know," you reply softly. "But there's nothing to tell. I'm fine."

She doesn't believe you. You can tell by the way she's looking at you, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. Ahsoka doesn't press the issue, though, and you're grateful for that. You don't want to talk about it, and, honestly, you're not sure if you can. Or, if, when the words come out, they'll sound as stupid as they do in your head.

"Now," you say, and you push yourself up, grabbing a crate. You walk over to the other side of the room and begin sorting through the books, setting them on the shelves. "Let's get back to work."

"Ugh, not more sorting."

"It's your punishment," you point out. "Besides, I've had enough excitement for one day. I could use some boring, manual labor."

"I guess," Ahsoka mutters.

You laugh, and you return to your task, the quiet settling over the room. Ahsoka sighs and does the same, and the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon in silence, only occasionally exchanging a few words. 

The sun begins to set, and the shadows grow, and soon, the entire room is bathed in the orange glow of the sunset, the warmth filling the air. It's peaceful, and comfortable, and it's exactly what you need. No drama. No complications. No one trying to get into your head, or telling you how to live your life. It's the kind of solitude you haven't had in a long time, and, even if you can't enjoy it for long, it's a nice respite from the chaos.

You're not sure how much time has passed, or how long the two of you have been working, but the silence is broken when the door slides open. You turn and watch as Obi-Wan enters the room, a smile on his face, his hands tucked in his sleeves. He greets the both of you and comes to stand beside the table, his attention focused on you. His expression is serious, his eyes searching, and you avoid his gaze.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he says, his voice polite, and his words carefully chosen. You can tell he's uncomfortable, and it makes you uneasy. "I was hoping I might have a word with you, if you're not too busy."

"Of course," you reply.

You look over at Ahsoka, who’s staring at the two of you, her gaze flicking between you, and she smirks, standing and grabbing the crate she had been organizing. "I'll give you some privacy."

"Thank you."

She leaves the room, leaving you and Obi-Wan alone, the quiet a heavy, uncomfortable, thing. You don't know what to say, or what to do, and it's an awkward few moments before he breaks the silence, clearing his throat, his hands moving to clasp behind his back.

"I was wondering how you were," he says. He takes a step toward you, and he hesitates, his eyes dropping. "I haven't seen much of you these past few days."

"Yes," you mumble. You cross your arms and shrug, avoiding his gaze. "I've been, um, busy. You know. Helping with the Archives. And healing."

"I see."

There's another pause.

"So," he says. "Are you feeling better? Has the Healers Ward released you yet?"

"They released me a few days ago," you tell him as you turn, walking over to the window, your fingers brushing along the ledge. "They were quite happy with my recovery. It didn't take long for me to heal."

"That's good."

"And, I feel fine," you add, turning to look at him. "I've been back in training for a few days now."

"Good."

"Good."

"Well," he says. He steps forward and stops, his hand on the back of a chair, his expression guarded. "I'm glad you're back on your feet."

"Yes," you murmur. "It's, uh, it's good to be back."

He gives you a curt nod, and you nod back, and then there's another long, agonizing, silence. You look at him, and he looks at you, and when it becomes too much, you turn away, your fingers tracing the window frame, the metal cool beneath your fingertips.

"You said you wanted to speak with me?" you ask the window.

"Yes."

You hear him take a deep breath, and when you look over your shoulder, he's staring at the floor, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. It's strange to see him so...distraught. So unsure of himself.

"I came to apologize," he says quietly. He crosses his arms, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "For my actions the other day. I was not myself, and I should not have acted as I did."

"Oh," you murmur.

"I was...wrong to have treated you as I did. You didn't deserve it. And I was out of line."

You let out a sigh and close your eyes. "Obi-Wan..."

"Please," he interrupts, and his tone is pleading, and it stops you. "I need to say this."

"Alright," you say. You move away from the window, and you lean against the table, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed. "Say what you need to."

"I was angry," he admits, and the words hang in the air, heavy and sharp. He pauses and takes a breath, and you can tell he's choosing his words carefully. "I was upset. You have no idea how much it hurt, seeing you like that. Lying there, unconscious. Not knowing if you would make it. I..."

He trails off, and he looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"And I know," he continues. He looks back up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can't help but see the pain, the hurt, the desperation. "I know that you would do it again, if given the choice. And I can't blame you for it. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"Obi-Wan," you murmur. You can feel your eyes burning, and you swallow the sudden lump in your throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"I know," he says. "I know."

"I wasn't thinking. I was acting on instinct, and—"

"I know," he repeats, his voice gentle. "It was not your fault. You did what was right, and, had it been anyone else, I would have been proud. You saved a life. That is something to be celebrated. But...you're not just anyone."

"I can't promise that I won't do it again," you tell him. "If the situation arises, I won't hesitate to save another soldier. Even if they're not a Jedi. Or a friend."

He smiles, a small, sad thing, and he nods. 

"I wouldn't expect any less," he says. He steps toward you, and he takes your hand, squeezing gently. "It is, after all, one of the many reasons I admire you."

You can't help the smirk tugging at your lips. "Well, that, and dazzling personality and my good looks, right?"

"Among others," he teases. His expression grows solemn, and he glances down, his thumb running over your knuckles. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sure the last thing you need is for me to be acting as I was."

"Well, with the amount of tantrums Anakin and I have thrown over the years, it's only fair that you get to have one every once in a while."

Obi-Wan grimaces and shakes his head "Please, don't remind me."

"You're not still mad, are you?" you ask. He tilts his head, a faint frown pulling at his lips. "I mean, you're not going to lecture me again, are you?"

"No," he replies, his tone wry. "Not today."

"Good."

"You're not completely forgiven, though."

"What?"

"I'm afraid that, if we're ever in a similar situation," he continues, his voice casual, his eyes narrowing, "and if you ever make me think you're dying again, I will be forced to have a very stern conversation with you."

You roll your eyes. "Obi-Wan..."

"I mean it," he insists. "I'll have no choice."

"Well," you drawl. You pull your hand free and push yourself away from the table, crossing your arms. "If I die, and you feel the need to lecture my corpse, by all means, go right ahead. I won't stop you."

He gives you a flat look, and you hold back a smile, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll see," he says finally. His lips twitch, and he sighs, rubbing his forehead. "In all seriousness, though, I am sorry. For everything. I was unfair, and I shouldn't have blamed you. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you."

"No," you agree softly. "You shouldn't have."

"I know," he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to grasp your elbow, his touch gentle. "I don't want us to be like this. We've fought enough over the years. I want you to know that I trust you, and despite my fears, and the concerns I have, I will always support you. Whatever decisions you make."

You let out a breath, and his hand moves, sliding up your arm, coming to rest on the back of your neck. He gives you a smile, and there's a flicker of regret and sorrow before he pulls you forward, his forehead resting against yours. His grip tightens, and you put your hands on his waist, holding onto him.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"I'll always be here for you," he says softly. "Whenever you need me."

You smile and lift your chin, brushing your lips across his cheek, a fleeting, brief, touch. "And I'll always be here for you. Whatever you need."

He chuckles and squeezes your neck, his breath warm on your skin. "I appreciate the sentiment."

"Now," you murmur, and you pull away, your hands moving to rest on his chest. "What I really need right now is a stiff drink."

He raises an eyebrow. "That is not what you need right now."

"But it would help," you insist. "A lot."

"No."

"C'mon," you beg, your hands curling in the fabric of his tunic. You give him a pout, and he groans, his eyes closing. "It'll be fun. Just like old times."

"You are not getting me into any more trouble than I'm already in," he says. He pulls your hands off of him, and he holds them in his, a stern look on his face. "The Council has already spoken to me about your reckless behavior. I'd prefer not to give them more reason to doubt me."

"They won't know," you promise. You squeeze his hands, your eyes bright. "We'll be careful."

"You don't know how to be careful."

"Then teach me," you counter, a smirk playing on your lips.

He lets out a sigh, and his brow furrows, his mouth twisting. You can see the temptation in his eyes, the desire to give in, and it's only a matter of time before you convince him. He hesitates, glancing over at the door. "It is late. Most people should be gone by now."

"See?" you say. "Easy. Quick drink. No one will see."

"Fine," he concedes. "But we will not be staying long."

"Thank you."

You release his hands and step back, your fingers lacing together, your grin widening. Obi-Wan gives you an exasperated look and gestures for you to go, and you laugh and start to back away.

"I'll meet you at the usual place," you tell him. You turn and head for the door, calling over your shoulder. "Don't keep me waiting."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" he calls out, his tone amused. "Just...don't get us caught."

"Never," you promise.

You're through the door and gone before he can say anything else, and the moment you're alone, you take a deep breath and run a hand through your hair. It's not until you're nearly to your quarters that the nerves begin to settle in, and the excitement gives way to apprehension, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You're still a bit wary of Obi-Wan's sudden change in mood. It's unlike him to act like he did, and to be so openly hostile. And, as much as you'd like to believe that everything is alright, that things were fine, there was still something gnawing at the back of your mind. 

The look on his face when you told him how you saved Rex's life was burned into your memory. You couldn't help but be reminded of how he looked at you the day after your knighting, when you'd told him your plan to find Yaddle's killer, and he'd treated you like a child.

It was the same, the same disdain and anger, the same look of disappointment, and the same, cold, distance. The only difference was, this time, you hadn't done anything wrong. You had saved a life. There was nothing for him to be disappointed about.

But the look was there, the same unspoken accusation. And it stung.

It’s only then that you realize he’d neglected to let his walls down during the conversation. There had been no opening, no chance to see into his mind. No moment of vulnerability. You hadn’t noticed, and now, you couldn’t understand why. It didn't make sense.

Obi-Wan had never kept his thoughts and feelings hidden from you before. He had never been afraid to show his emotions, or his pain. It was always you who'd had trouble with it, who'd struggled with letting him see the truth. He was the one who always opened up.

And now, he wasn't. 

You shake the thought from your mind and continue on, ignoring the unease growing in your chest. He'd apologized then, and he apologized now, and he meant it. You didn't need the Force to know that. And he'd agreed to sneak out with you, which was more than he would have done if he was truly upset with you.

You would have a nice evening, and nothing else would happen. And tomorrow, the two of you would move on. Everything would go back to normal.

You reach your quarters, and you let yourself in, making a beeline for the fresher. You don't waste any time and strip out of your robes, stepping under the hot spray, and you wash quickly, rinsing the day's grime and sweat off. The water cascades down your body, washing the tension away, the warmth enveloping you, and for the first time in days, you can breathe, the knot in your chest loosening.

Once you're finished, you dry yourself and step back into the room, rummaging through the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown in your dresser. You pull out a simple shirt and a pair of pants, and you dress, slipping on a pair of boots and a cropped leather jacket. It's been too long since you've dressed so casually, and it feels odd, like you're not yourself. But, it's also a refreshing change from stifling robes.

You comb your hair, pulling the wet strands back into a loose braid, and you're ready. You check the time and grab a few credits from the dresser, shoving them into your pocket, and you're out the door.

You arrive at the bar a short while later, and you spot Obi-Wan sitting in the corner, a glass in his hand and his attention on the crowd. He sees you and smiles, and you make your way through the room, the noise and the heat hitting you. He's wearing civilian clothes, his hair loose around his face, his beard trimmed, and he looks almost relaxed. Almost.

You reach the table and slide into the seat across from him, his gaze appraising. You can't help but blush, and you cross your arms, giving him a look.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," he replies. His eyes linger on yours for a moment longer, and then they trail over the rest of your body, his lips quirking. "It's just been a while since I've seen you like this. It's...refreshing."

"Well," you say, leaning forward. You lower your voice, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "I wouldn't want to draw any attention to myself."

He chuckles, and his eyes sparkle with amusement, a glint of something else in their depths. "I appreciate the effort."

You smile and reach over, plucking his glass from his hand. He doesn't protest, and you take a sip, the liquor burning as it goes down. You set the glass back on the table, and his gaze lingers, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You raise an eyebrow and stare at him, and he shakes his head, pushing himself up.

"I'm going to get another drink," he says. He nods his head towards the bar. "Would you like one?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll be right back."

He leaves, and you watch him walk away, and the moment he's out of earshot, you groan, the realization of what you'd done, and where you were, setting in. It was bad enough that the two of you had snuck off to a cantina together, and were dressed like this, but it was even worse that it felt...odd. Strange. And you weren't sure why. It was the same as every other time you'd met him for drinks, and yet, it wasn't.

There was something different. Something...off. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but it was there, and it made you uneasy. Like the calm before a storm.

"Hey," someone says.

You turn and see a man standing next to the table, a bottle of something in his hand, his smile friendly. You can't help the sigh that escapes you. It was going to be one of those nights.

"Hey," you reply. Your eyes drop, and you frown, the words on the bottle blurring. It's some sort of liquor, and a cheap one at that. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm hoping I could buy a beautiful woman a drink," he says. He sets the bottle down and pulls out the chair, sitting. You glance around the room, looking for Obi-Wan. There's no sign of him. "And, maybe, have a chat. Get to know each other."

"Look," you begin, and your voice is strained, the exhaustion starting to creep in. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not—"

"C'mon," he insists. He grabs the bottle and opens it, pouring a shot. He pushes it towards you, a grin on his face. "Just one drink."

"No, thank you."

“You won’t regret it.”

“No.”

"One drink," he repeats. He lifts the glass and nods, and when you don't move, his smile fades. "Don't be rude."

"Oh, I'm being rude?" you snap. You stand, and you tower over him, your hand on the table. He stares up at you, his mouth hanging open. "I've had a long week, and I'm not in the mood. Now, leave me alone."

"Alright, alright," he mutters. He stands and picks up the bottle, backing away. "You don't have to get so upset."

You don't reply, and he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd. You let out a breath and slump back into the chair, rubbing your forehead. It's not long before you're joined again, but this time, it's Obi-Wan who slides into the seat, a bottle and two glasses in his hand. He notices the look on your face, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Another admirer?"

"Yes," you mutter. You take the glass he offers and down it, and he stares at you, concern flickering across his features. "I guess I'm not used to the attention anymore."

"Hm," he hums. He takes the glass from you and refills it, his brow furrowing. "You shouldn't be out here like this. You're too..."

"What?"

"I just..." he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks down and frowns. "I worry."

"Obi-Wan, I'm not made of glass," you snap. "And I'm not some defenseless child. I'm not going to shatter because some idiot tries to hit on me."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He looks at you, and he sighs, his eyes searching yours. He opens his mouth to speak, and you brace yourself for whatever he's going to say, knowing that it's going to be a lecture, or a reminder of why you shouldn't be out here. Of why you shouldn't be with him. That it's not safe. That it's a risk. 

But, he doesn't say any of those things. Instead, his eyes drop, and his jaw clenches, and when he finally speaks, it's a whisper, the words soft and gentle. 

"You're a beautiful woman. A powerful, intelligent, wonderful, woman," he says. He looks at you, his expression open, and you can't help the way your heart leaps into your throat. "You have an air of confidence and determination, and...you're breathtaking. It's impossible not to notice you. Especially here."

You gape at him, and his lips twitch, his eyes darkening, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "I can't blame him for trying. I would, too, if I were him."

You can feel the heat spreading across your cheeks, the flush creeping up your neck. He's always been honest with you, and open, but this is different. He's never said anything like this before. You feel yourself scrambling, trying to regain your composure, and when you do, you let out a shaky laugh.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," you say. You lean forward, your arms resting on the table, a smirk playing on your lips. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"Not at all," he assures you, and the sincerity is almost believable. He leans closer, and his gaze drops, his voice low. "If anyone is jealous, it's him. He'll never have you. Not the way I do."

Your smirk widens, and you laugh, taking the bottle from his hand and pouring another shot. "Well, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are."

You hold his gaze, and you down the shot, the alcohol burning. It's a dangerous game, and the both of you know it, and, as much as you want to keep pushing, and prodding, and testing his limits, you know better. It's best to let it go. It's best to move on. Besides, this was supposed to be fun.

"So," you say, pushing the bottle away, a small smile on your face. "Now that you're done worrying about me, can we finally have some fun? I didn't come here to sit and mope."

"Of course." He raises his glass and tilts his head. "To us."

"To us."

The rest of the evening is a blur. It passes in a haze of alcohol and laughter, the conversation turning to trivial things. There's no mention of the war, or Felucia, or the Council, and you're glad. You need a night off, and a break from everything, and you know Obi-Wan does too. The two of you have had so few chances to relax, and even fewer to spend time together. 

You find yourselves falling back into the routine of years past, and, as the evening wears on, the two of you become more and more carefree. You're laughing and teasing, and Obi-Wan's telling stories about his adventures as a young padawan, and your memories of the past come flooding back. The times the two of you have snuck off, and the things you've done, and the trouble you've gotten into. And it's nice. Comforting. To be with him, and to enjoy his company. Even if you know it can't last.

You've managed to drag Obi-Wan out onto the balcony, and the two of you are leaning against the railing, watching the people below, the wind ruffling your hair. You can feel his warmth, and his arm is pressing into yours, and the alcohol has left a pleasant buzz in your head. You're not quite drunk, but, judging by the flush in Obi-Wan's cheeks, he's further along than you are.

"I have a confession," he mutters. You raise an eyebrow, and he gives you a crooked smile. "I've missed this. Missed...us. Doing this. Being here."

"Yeah," you murmur. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze, his eyes bright. "I've missed this too."

"We should do it more often," he says. He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, his touch lingering, his thumb stroking your skin. "Spend time together. Outside the Temple."

"Obi-Wan."

"What?"

"Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything," he counters. He turns to face you, his expression earnest, his voice soft. "I'm not saying that we should be together. Or that we should..." He trails off, and his eyes flick down, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. "But, I've missed this. And, I think you have too."

"Obi-Wan..." You let out a breath and run a hand through your hair, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're...different," you explain. You shrug and turn away, looking out over the city. "It's not just tonight. You've been acting strange for weeks. Ever since Felucia. I just..." You shake your head sigh, glancing over at him. "Are you sure you're alright? That everything is okay?"

"Yes," he replies, and the reply is quick, and curt, and too easy. You stare at him, and he shrugs, a frown tugging at his lips. "I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell me," you snap. You turn and lean against the railing, crossing your arms, your glare hard. "Because, one minute, you're angry with me, and the next, you're...this. Tell me what's going on."

He holds your gaze for a moment, and then his eyes drop, his hand coming up to cover his face as a low groan escapes him.

"I don't know," he mutters. He takes a step closer and leans against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Obi-Wan..."

"I'm tired," he whispers. He looks over at you, his eyes sad, his voice hollow. "I'm tired of the war. I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of losing people. And...I'm tired of having to pretend."

"Pretend what?"

"Everything," he answers. His hand drops to the railing, his fingers curling around the metal, his grip tight. "Who I am. How I feel. What I'm thinking. What I want." He turns and looks at you, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of emotion crossing his features. "What I want with you."

"And, how do you feel?" you ask softly. "What do you want with me?"

He swallows and turns away, his eyes focused on the skyline, and you can see the struggle in his face. He doesn't speak, and the silence grows heavy, and uncomfortable, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

"Obi-Wan—"

"I care for you. I have always cared for you. More than I should. More than is right."

He turns to face you, and there's a desperation in his eyes, and a longing, and you know where this is going. You know what he wants to say.

But, he doesn't. Instead, he sighs, his shoulders slumping, and he shakes his head.

"You mean the world to me, and I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me."

"You don't know that," he insists. He takes a step closer, and his hands are on your waist, his touch light, his gaze searching yours. "I'm not the only one who has changed."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're different, too," he says. His hands move, and they slide up your back, his thumbs brushing along your cheek. "The last few months have changed you. And I'm afraid of what will happen. What will change."

"Nothing's going to change," you promise, and your voice is low, and soft. "We're the same. We're just older. And wiser. And maybe a little more jaded. But, we're still the same. You're still the same man who was my first love, and I'm still the same girl who fell for him."

He smiles, a small, sad, thing, and he lets out a breath, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes close, and your hands move to his chest, the fabric warm and soft beneath your fingers, his heart beating steadily beneath your palm.

The tension in his body melts away, and his touch is gentle, his thumb stroking your cheek. You can't help but press closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight.

"I don't know what I would do without you," he murmurs. He lets out a shaky breath, and you can feel him trembling, the weight of the world, the pain and the fear, bearing down on him. "If anything happened to you, if I lost you..."

"You're not going to lose me," you repeat. You reach up and cup his cheek, your thumb running over his stubble, his beard rough against your skin. "I promise."

Obi-Wan doesn't say anything. Instead, he lets out a quiet, strangled, noise, and his lips are on yours, soft and warm and familiar. 

It's a desperate, needy, kiss, and it's all too easy to give in, to let yourself melt into him, his hands on your face and his mouth moving against yours. You haven't been kissed in years, and you haven't kissed him in even longer, and, despite your best efforts, you can't help but respond, your fingers sliding through his hair, a low moan escaping you.

His grip tightens, and his tongue is in your mouth, his body pressing against yours. You can't think, and you can't breathe, and you can feel his need, his desire, the emotions, raw and unguarded, spilling over. He's shaking, and his lips are insistent, and when he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark.

The two of you stare at each other, the silence stretching between you, and the gravity of the situation hits you. You've been friends for years, and you've been lovers, and now, here you are, on the precipice, and you're teetering on the edge. One more step, and there's no going back. One more step, and everything will change.

A sinking stone settles in the pit of your stomach, the fog of alcohol fleeing, and a wave of regret and shame crashing down. You can't believe what you've done. How far you've fallen. And how easily. After all the years you've spent avoiding each other, and trying to be friends, and now, here you are.

"We shouldn't have done that," you whisper. You push him away and take a step back, and he reaches out, his hand on your elbow. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"You're right," he says. His hand falls, and he looks away, a frown tugging at his lips. "We shouldn't have."

Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair, his eyes closing, and he lets out a long breath. When he looks at you again, the guilt and the sadness in his eyes is gone, replaced by resignation. He reaches over and gives your shoulder a squeeze, his tone gentle. "Come on, let's go home."

You nod, and he releases you, stepping back. You can't meet his gaze, and you turn, your eyes fixed on the ground, the two of you making your way across the balcony. He keeps his distance, and you keep yours, the silence between you tense and heavy.

You're both back in the Temple a short while later, and Obi-Wan leads you back to your room, his pace quick. He stops outside the door, and his eyes meet yours.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

“Yes,” you mutter. You can't meet his gaze, and you fidget, your eyes on the floor.

He sighs and lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Look," he says softly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," you say. "I...shouldn't have let that happen."

"It's not your fault," he assures you. His thumb brushes across your cheek, and he gives you a smile. "We both let it get out of hand."

"Still, we shouldn't have..."

"No," he agrees. His hand falls, and he steps back, his smile turning wry. "We definitely shouldn't have."

You manage a weak smile, and his eyes soften.

"I meant to say this before," he starts. "I didn't want to interrupt the moment. But, I meant it."

"Meant what?"

"What I said earlier," he clarifies. He clears his throat and looks down, his gaze fixed on his shoes, his words hesitant. "I...don't want to lose you. I don't think I could bear it. And...I'll do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen."

"You're not going to lose me," you promise. You smile and grab his hand, squeezing his fingers, your voice soft. "I'll always be here."

He squeezes back, his eyes soft. "I know you're still struggling with Master Yaddle's death, and everything that's happened, and, well, I'm here. It's not much, but my clearance can help. If there's something you need, if there's something that would aid you in your search, let me know. I'm not going to ask questions. Just...if there's anything that can give you closure, I'll get it for you."

"I appreciate the offer," you reply. "But, I don't think the Council would take too kindly to you helping me. Especially after what happened. They're probably going to be watching us both like hawks for a while."

"Right." He sighs.

"However," you continue. "I'd appreciate it if you could pull any records regarding the last few months she was alive. Missions. Debriefings. Anything."

"Consider it done," he promises.

"Thank you."

"Of course," he says. "Anything else?"

"Actually, yes," you say. "There is something else."

"Yes?"

You step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him, and he hugs you back, his cheek resting against your head. You hold him close, breathing in his scent, his warmth surrounding you, his arms tight around your waist. There's so much you want to say, and so many things you want to tell him, but none of it feels right. Not after what's happened, and the choices the two of you have made. And, for a moment, you just let yourself be, his heartbeat steady against your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest calming.

"I love you, you know that, right?" you say quietly as you pull away.

He chuckles and brushes a stray hair from your forehead. "Yes, I do."

"Good." You step back and turn toward your door, looking over your shoulder at him. "Now, go. Get some sleep."

"You too," he says, his lips quirking. You can't help but return his smile, and he turns, heading for his room. He glances over his shoulder, and he winks. "Good night, darling."

"Good night," you call out.

He vanishes around the corner, and you turn and open the door, stepping into your room. The door slides shut, and you're greeted by the empty, familiar, sight of your quarters. The walls are bare, the windows are uncovered, and the floors are cold. It's not a welcoming space, and it never has been, but tonight, the silence feels particularly loud. You're used to being alone, but, right now, the loneliness is almost overwhelming.

You're not sure why.

Or, perhaps, you don't want to admit why.

Either way, the ache in your chest is still there, the emptiness still lingers, and you know it's not just from the alcohol. You try to ignore the feeling, and instead you settle on the floor to meditate, focusing on the Force and letting the energy flow through you. 

It doesn't work, and you know it won't. But, you have to try. The alternative is too much to bear. You sit for a few hours, your eyes closed, and your hands resting on your knees, until, eventually, sleep pulls you under.

taglist: @baddest-batchers @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @aynavaano

@ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon

@heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bimboshaggy @bunny7567

@lostqueenofegypt @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay

@callsign-denmark @julli-bee @moonychicky @captn-trex @feral-ferrule

@webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @cw80831 @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@silly-starfish

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : top holiday in your opinion?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Hi Christmas!

What an interesting name. I don't think many people on this service actually use something that creative. I, for one, just really enjoy having eggs so I'm called scrambled eggs. Though, sometimes the doctor tells me to go easy on them since the cholesterol in the yellows of eggs is HEINOUS for my blood tests. So, alas, I am coping through naming myself all things eggs.

I love Ada Wong. She's my beloved, and if I say I'm her second biggest fan, no one can say they're her first because I am her day ONE you hear me? DAY ONE. I AM HER DAY ONE— okay, I'm sure you're not convinced, but a person can dream. Come on. I've literally already read glhf <3 on ao3 so I'd say we're pretty neck to neck. Also, that fan event and the sticker? Thank you. Going into my phone case like right now.

As for her helicopter shoot, what Ada stan DOESN'T feel some way about it? I, for one, went manic when it came out. It was so bad I was begging for her signature on my magazine and yelled a little when she signed it. No, don't rob me. I live in an apartment with my friend and NO it's not an option to climb to the 17th floor.

History about me... I wonder? I don't do much. Well, a little bit like you, I model a little on the side as well, but only because I'm nepotism-ing my way into the industry through connections. I'm not interested in it as a full-time job, but it's kind of nice being on set and watching how it all goes down. Maybe I'll become a manager? But that's too much work. Honestly, I'd rather just be some weird form of sugar baby except not to an old man and to the people who are trying to get me into the industry. I'd love to just be their bestie who shows the bts of everything. That sounds FUN.

Hm, to speed-answer your questions, my favorite way of having eggs is actually in a nice cheesy omelet or an egg benedict, my favorite holiday (call me biased bc of my bsf) is the dragon boat festival only because those sticky rice zongzi are actually the chinese's greatest gift to man, and I write in my freetime (don't ask what. I know a degen when I see one, and YOU my friend, are no different from me).

Now, to ask you a couple of questions back. What's your favorite way to have eggs? Your fav holiday? Surely it's Christmas? All jokes, of course. How about some life updates? We can be like... besties, except not besties because we don't even know what the other person looks like and for all I know you could be some 60-year-old man who's faking everything through the letter. Just kidding! I'm not lying, so I'm sure you're not either.

I'm attaching a small Ada print I found on my table while digging for pens to write back to you. I hope you like it. I think it's signed by her? But I'm not sure. I think I had her sign two that time... or something. I don't remember.

hope to hear back ? scrambled eggs

You finish the letter and sign, print slipped in as Ada steps out from the shower, towel around her neck as she raises a brow.

"Oh, is that the model penpal service?"

"Yeah." You seal the letter and write in the PO box, humming. "Did you ever use it?"

"No. I only know it because Wesker insisted that I know that the penpal service wasn't actually for finding friends, but getting to know who else in the company shares a passion for the same things. I have you, so I don't need to worry much."

"MARRY ME!" You sob, crying into your hands as Ada rolls her eyes.

"I'm your roommate. Also, that contract you signed as a small-time model prohibits dating."

"I said marry me, not date me." You raise a brow. "Also, I made them scrap that part since I wasn't planning on becoming famous. My contract has a lot more leeway compared to yours."

"I know." Ada sits at her vanity, plugging her hairdryer in as you step behind her, helping her out. "It's a shame you didn't want to become famous."

"There's no point in being famous unless it's for the money. What of that do I need to care about if you're legally obligated to provide for me?"

"Really sucks to be best friends with you." She rolls her eyes, pulling out her phone. "Did you update that chapter yet?"

"No, I was going to update it after your hair."

"What did you write about this time?"

"I'm not telling you because I gotta lock myself in my room when I post it."

"You didn't even ask me any questions this time around." She huffs.

"Mainly because I was gonna write angst again and you hate it when I do that."

"God, you're insufferable."

"Thanks, love you too."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[foolondahill17]

Annual Favorite Supernatural Fic Rec List of 2023:

I bookmarked 66 fics in 2023 (and read…a lot more than that), but only 9 were written/updated in this year of our lord. SMH we gotta pump out more content, friends. Seriously though, I’ve got several more 2023 fic reads in my Marked for Later, but some are still WIPs or I just haven’t gotten around to picking them up yet. I’m sure some (like the much-hyped Lighthouse Keeper AU where there is darkness by the talented quiettewandering [@wanderingcas on tumblr]) will end up on my Bookmarked favs…but, alas, they’ll just have to wait for the 2024 recap.

The list below is in no particular order, barring the first, which has joined the ranks of one-of-my-favorite-fics-ever:

A Cliff That Knew Too Many Tides by luulapants (@luulapants)

E, early series Dean/others, 94,508 words

Partial Summary:

A canon rewrite AU diverging from the events of Some Cruel Tide, in which a shifter disguised as his father used Dean's blind obedience to molest him. By the start of S1, Dean's relationship with his father is more strained, his devotion more intense, and his life consumed by the need to hide the parts of himself he is most ashamed of.

My words:

If you’ve been looking for a gay!Dean manifesto, you’ve found it. Obviously, the subject matter is dark: warnings for past childhood sexual abuse, internal and external homophobia, past suicide attempt, and traumatic outing. It is also beautiful and heart-wrenching and scratches the swollen, itchy, weeping rash on my heart in a way that only the balm of good Dean angst can.  

Favorite part:

“I wasn’t acting out,” he blurted.

“What?”

“When I – I wasn’t trying to act out or anything.” Deacon’s presence hovered behind him like an aura, and Dean reminded himself, Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the boat.

Dad sighed. The line crackled, and Dean pictured him standing in a phone booth somewhere, probably huddled up against the cold. “Then what the hell would you call it?”

Dean tried out a few words in his head, imagining how they’d sound to Deacon. He ended up with, “I misunderstood. I thought I was supposed to.”

Asterism of an F-Series Ford Pick Up by disabled_dean (@disabled-dean)

M, Destiel, 17,408 words

Partial Summary:

When you've been to hell, desire is isolating and ugly.

Or: Cas drives his truck for a case and Dean is exceptionally horny about it

My words:

The way Dean’s PTSD is described in this fic, like a slow, oozing poison that awakens the longer he and Cas travel together, is tantalizing and masterful. Ostensibly, this fic is about Dean and Cas road-tripping to a case. It’s actually about how you, a monster-hunter, can come to terms (or not) with your body and soul when you think you’ve become the very thing you’re spent your whole life hunting.

 Favorite part:

"Like everything will be going fine and then all of a sudden I just. Can’t. I can't stand it. And the more fine everything is, the worse it gets and I feel-" he breaks off, eyes on his hands like they aren't his hands, thumb rubbing over and over the ring on his index finger, "It's like everyone else is living this normal fucking life and I'm still back in the pit."

Personal Space: The Final Frontier by botley

M, Destiel, Star Trek AU, WIP, 63,570 words

Partial summary

"Captain's Log, Stardate 10918.8. Captain Ellen Harvelle reporting, First Officer… Castiel… attending. After a month of bargaining with the Gehennian government, efforts to permit a search party within the Rack facilities still proved unsuccessful. Although Starfleet’s orders dictated we tuck tail and leave, I elected to disregard this decision and beam a rescue operations team down for the recovery of Lieutenant Commander Dean Winchester.”

My words:

This fic has been on my rec lists before. It’s still a WIP, but it very unexpectedly posted an update after a 3(?) year hiatus, so I’ll cling to hope until my fingernails leave a bloody, mauled mess.  This is basically a Star Trek AU where our favorite Supernatural gang are fucking around in Starfleet instead of the Midwest. Fantastic stuff – worth the read even if it does remain unfinished.

Favorite line:

"Dean made a face. Castiel decided the man was hideous."

Receding by minkmix

T, early season gen, 38,729 words

Summary:

After a visit to an old, abandoned theme park in the desert, Sam begins to notice strange lapses in Dean's memory. As his brother starts to disappear before his eyes, Sam must rush to find an answer before there isn't anything left to save... My words: A Lucky Charms fic if I’ve ever read one. Delicious, crunchy marshmallow goodness of some fantastic Dean!whump and panicked caretaker!Sam with the solid undercurrent of slightly sweetened amalgamized oat and corn cereal of a solid case fic. Yum.

 Favorite part:

“Sammy?” Dean cut him off.

“W-What is it?”

“What’s Dad’s name?”

Sam’s chest heaved as he fought himself from sounding as stunned as he felt.

“John.”

Swan Upon Leda by kelsstiel (@kelstiel)

E, Destiel real-world AU, 174,096 words

Summary:

Pediatric Surgery Fellow Dean Winchester meets baby Jack Kline and neuropsychologist Castiel Novak his first week on the job. Dean’s been accused a time or two of caring a little too much in the past and it’s hard not to care about the neurotic adoptive father and his medically needy preemie. After a series of run-ins between the pair, Dean and Cas develop a friendship that everyone else around them suspect more from immediately, though it takes them a little longer to get the memo. When Dean struggles with a particularly devastating patient loss, their mutual understanding of loss and love bring them closer in a way that neither of them could have expected.

My words: A solid, old-fashioned romantic AU. It’s unpretentious, fluffy, heart-warming, authentic and the kind of could-have-been-a-novel goodness that makes up the heart and breadth of fanfiction. Warning for infant illness and death (not Jack).

Favorite part:

"I know they say there’s a chance, but I’ve just got this feeling .” She shook her head and looked down for a moment. She looked up again and took a deep breath as if steadying herself. “I wish I could see you grow up.”

five minutes to six by saintedcastiel  (@saintedcastiel)

M, Destiel real-world AU, 23,383 words

Summary:

Castiel Novak has been the co-host of Good Morning, Lawrence! for a little over ten years when he stumbles across the story of a lifetime. But after a producer pulls the segment and tells him to forget it, Castiel begins to wonder who's really pulling the strings. Can he bring the truth to light while somehow managing to keep his co-host, and the man he loves, in the dark?

 My words: Another Goddamn quality AU. This one is a little quippier and fast paced than the Hospital AU above, but it’s full of fantastic characterization and even a last-minute breaking and entering romp. Fun that’s perfect for the whole family!

Favorite part:

“Been asking you out all week.” Dean tells him, and Castiel realizes all at once he’s right.

“Oh my god.” Castiel laughs. “You have.”

This Is Not My Beautiful Wife by luckshiptoshore (@luckshiptoshore)

T, Destiel, one-shot, 4,755 words

Summary:

“Dean,” says the man again. “This isn’t real. You need to come with me, now.”

Dean’s been zoning out again. But he can’t escape the feeling that something’s very, very wrong … and wherever he goes, a strange man in a trench coat follows.

My words: You gotta love the Djinn dream trope. This one has everything you want in a caught-in-a-fake-reality-while-your-lover-pleads-for-you-to-return-to-the-waking-world story, plus an extra dash of on-point characterization and some truly imaginative scenarios for Dean’s alternate realities.  

 Favorite part:

“We could look into adoption,” says Cas. “If you’d like. Of course we could also simply take a child, but I think that’s frowned on."

we really shouldn't be doing this by LoversAntiquities (@tragidean)

E, Destiel, 17,138 words

Summary:

After Castiel goes missing for a week, Dean finds him in an abandoned cemetery in the middle of nowhere Kansas, suffering from a mysterious welt. Only, as the hours go on, the deeper the curse grows—and Dean finds more than he bargained for, namely on every surface he and Castiel can find.

My words: This is more straight-up (not straight) porn than I usual rec, but this is a fantastic take on the from-sex-to-love fic where everyone was already in love to begin with. There’s a hefty sprinkle of idiots-to-lovers and sex-curse. Also angst, which is my bread and butter.

Favorite line:

Castiel stares up at him, his eyes gone soft, hooded. Dean thumbs over his eyelid, just to watch it flutter shut. “I’m not solely interested in you for your hands, or your mouth. They are wonderful attributes, but I don’t long for them so much as I long for you.” He leans into Dean’s palm and kisses the center. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but it would take the death of the universe to get me to stop.”

Postpartum Prometheus by babbyspanch, saltslimes (@dragqueenpentheus @nifedick)

E, Destiel, technically mpreg, WIP, 18,959 words

Summary

Welcome to the Supernatural renaissance. Welcome to Castiel and the terrible naissance.

My words: warning for the fact that this is technically an mpreg fic even though Castiel is an angel and not really a man. Warning, also, because this is another WIP that hasn’t been updated since the beginning of the year, so I don’t know if it’ll be finished. Basically, Dean and Cas bump uglies to unexpected results. Cas kinda freaks without telling Dean he’s his baby daddy. He also yanks out his intestines so said baby can be nice and comfortable in there. Funny and angsty.

Favorite part:

“Are those—?”

“Yeah.” He waves his hand at the door again, starting to feel like one of those used car lot inflatable men, limbs akimbo. “A total murderer looking guy just bolted that way. And not like— the regular murderer-looking people who come in.”

“And he left his organs.” Dennis thinks a moment, and then shrugs, as if this isn’t the weirdest thing he’s ever seen. He’s been working here longer than anyone Henry knows, maybe it isn’t. He opens his mouth and Henry can’t help hoping some miracle plan of action is going to fall out of it. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Um. What?”

“I don’t want to offend you.” He pauses, brows furrowed. He rolls Henry’s cup over in his hand. “What is a ‘FABINISTA’?”

Add your favorite written-in-2023 fics in the tags or a reblog!

[ofallthingsnasty]

From the yandere alphabet, could you possibly do F, H, J, or N for Blue? Him and Bill are my favs :)

Yandere alphabet

Of course 💕 Blue is from this fic and my not-so-little beefy merman, you can find more yandere Blue here and here. For everything Blue, browse my OC: Blue tag.

tw. yandere, noncon, oviposition, f!reader, minors dni

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Hurt, betrayal, disbelief, anger, annoyance - Blue feels a lot of things at once. But the only emotion that he will show is anger. Of course, he knows that what he is doing isn't sane, isn't consensual - he isn't delusional - but he thinks he is acting for both his and your own good when he takes you for himself. Blue is a lot older than you (which is only natural, considering that merfolk live longer than humans do and mature slower) and he sometimes gets a little cocky, a little condescending. To him, you're still so young and immature - especially when you tell him (fully aware that his last fertile seasons are approaching) that you want to put off having kids for another few years. He takes you out a sense of entitlement and hurt that you're suddenly 'breaking your promise', coupled with the 'I-know-best' attitude I mentioned above - so how does a boyfriend-turned-captor react when the love of his life is fighting back? It's definitely going to be a pile of negative emotions. When you dare to buck under his grip, to wiggle away from him or even try to hurt him - he'll go through a million thoughts in one second. But his pride is too grand to show you that it makes him sad, deep, deep down - the only thing that you will reap is acid, in hopes that it might deter you from acting out again. He can fix your relationship later, he thinks. Because you're more likely to see that he was right all along with a fat-cheeked baby on your arm. Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? I'd say that depends on you - as in, what would be worse for you? He isn't violet, but he is going to force himself on you so you can carry his eggs. He isn't going to isolate you forever, but he will definitely keep you from anyone and anything until your babies are a little older. So, what is worse? To get violated by your partner of more than a decade or to be all on your own because he thinks it's what is best for you? Which can you stomach better? That one singular traumatic event or the grueling years of isolation and solitude? Both are harrowing in their own right, though the latter might not be defined as a 'single experience'.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, Blue gets jealous pretty easily, even as his 'canon' self. Your worlds are so different - he can't follow you to land, only has you when you're at sea with him - and, as many men with big, great egos do, he has that little nagging voice in his head that tells him that you might just fall for another human because it's easier, more familiar. I didn't mention in 'at home', but you wear his bite on your neck for that very reason. He's trying to tell any potential suitor to back off. He's a biter in general, obsessed with leaving marks all over, to make it clear that you're taken. So when he gets jealous? It might just be the straw that breaks the camel's back. You tell him you need more time before having kids and he can smell some other man on you? That doesn't bode well for you. Trust me.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Never physically, that's for sure. He will give you the cold shoulder, will ignore you, will get loud and desperate - but he won't ever hit you. Really, in his eyes he isn't even punishing you. He thinks that you're still in a relationship, even when he forced his eggs into you, thinks that he simply had to force you to see what's important. He thinks you're just arguing like couples do, that he's simply voicing his anger and frustrations. (The fact that there is now a considerable power balance between you is ignored by him.) So why would he hit you? He isn't like that, he loves you, don't you see?

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

i think i found my fav arcana blog, i rlly love ur hcs and writings!!! (and i don't even usually read that much,,)

i wanna know how the m6 would react to mc, who does journaling but never had anyone read their journal, offering the m6 if they want to read their private journal

The Arcana HCs: M6 reading MC's journal

~ I kept a journal for several years until my siblings were old enough to decipher my handwriting and use it as blackmail lol. Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

Noticed you writing in it every day and has been dying of curiosity to know what you're writing about but respects your privacy too much to even bring it up

There have been one or two times when you left it on a table (not open) and he spent a good five minutes fixated on it from across the room, mind going crazy

You finally walk in on him one afternoon, draped across one side of the couch and twisting his gloves while staring holes into the notebook on the opposite armrest

So you sit down next to him and let him read it with you

Double checking multiple times that it's okay for him to be reading this - "are you sure that you're sure?"

Reading about himself from your perspective and how he makes your life better makes him so happy

He also notices how you've kept his love notes and flowers pressed between the pages and the sheer romance of it will make his brain melt

Blushing, stuttering mess

Now whenever he writes you something or picks a flower for you he's thinking about the best way to make it relevant years later, since he knows you'll save them

Asra

Journaling started for you as a daily exercise when you were relearning to write

It was Asra's way of giving you a piece of your life that you had total control of, and of encouraging you to chronicle your days to cope with your memory loss

Over time it also became a place to write down all the things you wanted to say to them while they were gone

So late one night, when you're stargazing together and you find you're on the second to last page of the notebook he gave you so long ago, you reread it with him

It's one of the most precious moments you'll ever share with them. No magic or adventure involved, just the sweetness of revisiting your history together

It also gives you the chance to let him read all the things you felt you couldn't tell him, which brings so much resolution

By the time you're finished reading and talking and snuggling the birds are starting to chirp and the sky is getting lighter

For them, reading about all the ways you noticed and thought about and loved them when there was so much distance between you two makes their heart so full it aches

Nadia

At first she assumed it was something like a planner, where you would write down leads and information and connections

But then she saw the different notebooks you kept for studying, and the system you had to keep track of your scheduled events

She was a little embarrassed at how long it took for her to realize that it was a journal

Once she knew, she was intrigued. She wasn't going to pressure you to show her at all, but she's certainly curious

One day you're flipping back through your entries and you begin to giggle. It's the last thing before she caves and asks

"MC, my darling, what's making you laugh?"

You're immediately scooting over to make space for her next to you and pointing to the right spot on the page

It's a small anecdote you had recorded of Natiqa pranking Nahara and Nazali when Nadia wasn't around

Once you two start reading together she doesn't stop. With your permission, you spend the next two hours reminiscing

You write about her like she's the most important, wise, and confident person in the world, and it fills her with humble gratitude

Muriel

Noticed on the trip south. Wasn't curious. Didn't ask.

Now its been months, you two live like an old married couple in the woods, and he has no idea how to bring it up this late in the getting-to-know-you game

Practices the possible words to ask you in the early mornings while he's feeding the chickens and you're still asleep

The chickens don't have much feedback

You, on the other hand, have mistaken his stoicism for disinterest, so you haven't taken any initiative to let him know that you're open to talking about it

Inanna gets fed up one day and grabs your journal in her mouth, leading you on a chase through the woods, right to where Muriel is fishing

Casually drops it as soon as he tells her to, right into his lap, and heads away for a nap

You sit down next to him and check for torn pages. As soon as you feel his interested gaze, you're offering to read it to him while he waits for the fish to bite

He's not ready for how often he features in your stories, but hearing the way you describe him as safe and gentle and precious makes him feel so fuzzy inside

Portia

The first time she sees you writing she's already asking what it's for

As soon as you tell her it's a journal, she's asking you to let her read it. If it's written by someone as mysterious and exciting as you, it has to be good!

At this point you've known her for all of two days, so you say no

Disappointed but understanding. She doesn't pester you about it, but she makes sure to let you know that she's very interested if you ever feel like sharing

You take your time, but one evening after dinner while you're snuggled up by the fire you'll pull it out and start reading to her

The best audience you've ever had. She is honed in, hanging onto every word while she covers a very happy Pepi in scritches

As someone who fell in love with novels because they whisked her away into adventures she didn't feel important enough for otherwise, hearing you recount your shared story like this tugs on all of her heartstrings

She'll laugh and cry and gasp at all the right moments. From now on, she treats your journal like a sacred thing. After all, it's the most important story in the world

Lucio

He was already sneaking peeks over your shoulder when he was stuck to you as a not-ghost. Man has 0 concept of privacy

You knew he was looking because he was commenting on your handwriting and gossiping about any tidbits he thought were juicy

Considering how you barely knew him at that point, you didn't write in front of him again for a very, very long time

It actually created a lovely habit - at some point during the day, you'll take half an hour to yourself and journal

It's been months now and you've forgotten why you had the habit in the first place, so when it's raining one evening you just stay in the inn and write next to the fire

The difference in Lucio's approach speaks volumes. He asks what you're doing, and when you tell him, he asks if he can hear some of it

He makes no move to get up from where he's polishing his sword (it got wet)

He listens while you read, interjecting with a comment or two, perfectly content

He's a bit sheepish about what you had to write about him in the beginning, but hearing how much he's changed fills him with healthy pride. Oh, he adores you

[aliasnz]

Undesirable Presents: Le/vi Acker/man for @nametakensff and @kawaii-kushami's snzblr secret santa event <3

Tags: aot/snk-canonverse, allergies (pollen), cold, contagion mention, spray, mess, language. Word count: 2000 (and counting) A/N: I have several apologies to make about this fic >-< First of all, I am so sorry that it is so late! Secondly, I apologize for being unfamiliar with the other fandoms requested, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for writing for my fav. Third thing: just so I can have something out sooner rather than later, please consider this a part 1 that will be edited, updated, and self-reblogged upon completion. Finally, this fic may be too indulgent, but I am crossing my fingers that it is enjoyable anyways ~ 

If Levi had his way, he would have spent the day in solitude. 

His ideal birthday was simply his ideal day. In the warmer months, it would have been a sunrise run followed by a cold shower, his warm sweat and clingy pollen swirled down the drain. Then, his civilian clothes and a walk to the brick cafe at the edge of town. Black tea, white croissant, yellow pages of his favorite novel. Head ducked down and buried in his book, anyone who recognized him - for better or for worse - received the message: leave him be. He would sip until the porcelain ran dry, would stay until his stomach rumbled. With the last hours of daylight, he would stop at the butcher stand and purchase a few ounces of meat. It was about all he could afford on his military salary, but with rare optimism, he preferred to say it was all he cared to buy. Steak dinner for one. Lights out by dark. It was his way.

But Levi hardly ever had things his way.

He was a December baby, as Hange so mockingly put it, who loathed winter cold and winter colds. Instead of that morning jog and downtown stroll, he shuttered himself in his room with intermittent napping and tidying. Some considered his celebration traditions pitiful, but he could not complain. In ways as weighty as a family to visit or write to, yet also in aspects as miniscule as a good night’s sleep, Levi had been cheated in most realms of life. In time, he had come to live with it, found comfort in little joys, and wished the others understood that. That wish was most wanted on his own birthday, for everyone else seemed to celebrate it more than the man himself.

In the depths of his heart, he knew they cared about him. The yearly plethora of visits all accompanied with gifts should have proven that, but he loathed the treatment he received. Perhaps the early symptoms of the annual cold were to blame for that. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, contagion made quick work of the barracks. Sooner or later, it would catch up to him, and that onset always seemed to hover around his birthday. On occasion, he wondered if he would be better off facing that inevitable infection head on rather than repeating the futile delay, but his train of thought was always cut off one way or another. A pang of headache, a harsh cough, a runny nose, or a sudden sneeze. This time, it was a knock at his door, the first of the day, one of many sure to come. 

Levi swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bright rays reflected off the metal buckles of his gear and reflected into his eyes, garnering a wince and dawning thought: just how late did I sleep in? Standing up, he immediately noted how his shoulders felt heavy, his breaths labored. If he had to guess, his cold would take hold of him before the 25th was over. Lucky him. 

Hand clamped down hard on the handle, startling the two on the other side just before he creaked his door open. The tall couple cast shadows over him: Nanaba and Miche with -

Shit...

Levi braced himself for their scream, but instead, they spoke calmly, handing over the bouquet with a pair of matching smiles, “Happy Birthday, Levi.”

He startled, not because he was surprised by their presence, but intimidated by their present: a bundle of bright-red poinsettias, pointed with specks of pollen he doubted they had noticed. They were far too innocent to have purposefully gifted him such a slew of allergens. Others, however, he was less sure about.

Instead of reaching out to grab them, Levi crossed his arms and tipped his tongue in refusal - refusal of their gift and refusing to indulge in the sneeze he already felt budding. Speaking quickly, he aimed to rush them out before they could witness his unravel, “I don’t want them.”

“C’monnn, Levi!” Nanaba pleaded, bending at the knees and shooting up again quickly. In her eager bounce, his eyes widened as he watched the petals flutter with her. His arms instinctively flinched before him as if he could block the microscopic wave. “Miche and I stood outside for hours in this freezing cold -”

Great, two more patients upcoming.

“- waiting for the flower shop to open.”

“First in line,” Miche added. “Do you know how popular these things are at this time of year?”

Levi’s stance remained unchanged, Nanaba saw his disinterest and felt compelled to play it up, selling the present rather than gifting it. “They smell good, too!”

Miche, on the other hand, preferred the path of insistence. Snatching the stems from his partner, he thrust them to Levi’s face, nearly touching, “Go on, smell them, you’ll see for yourself.”

He held his breath, reluctant to inhale as long as those were within reach. Aiming for subtlety, he feigned to nonchalantly scratch his nose with his wrist, “If you like them, keep them.”

“Someone’s ungrateful…” Miche teased, unhurt by the shorter man’s attitude, but never passing up an opportunity to rag it. “Y’know, most people would say ‘thanks’ or something…”

Levi frowned, he wasn’t ungrateful. Deep down, he was touched. On the exterior, though, he was objectively irritated, and could understand why they misread him. With a pang of guilt, he sought to correct the miscommunication, but that pang was miniscule compared to the burn of his nostrils, a flame that the leaves were now fanning.

“No, it’s just…” his face scrunched as he attempted to fight it off, just until he could finish the sentence, at least? “It’s… just…” 

However, that bouquet was set on denying him. Throwing in the towel, a rare occurrence for humanity's strongest, he whipped around and buried his nose in the crook of his elbow, “Hah’AESCH-ihh!” 

Fuck, all three parties unknowingly shared the same thought. For Levi, the nature of his curse was multifaceted. Foremost, the unexpected harshness of that sneeze, the wind knocked out of him first thing in the morning. From that, the daunting notion that this was the first of many sure to come, either from allergies or the cold. Finally, the flush that flooded his cheeks. That outburst had shown enough vulnerability already, Levi lingered behind his arm and remained turned away, waiting for the blush to disappear as well. 

Yet, even after those awkward seconds of silence, neither Nanaba nor Miche could erase that image from their mind: his tan coat spotted brown, the mist that shot from beneath his elbow and faded into the room’s sunlit atmosphere. With the captain turned, they allowed their faces to contort with disgust. When his audible sniff confirmed what they thought they saw, they looked to each other and cringed, agreeing that this birthday visit was over.

His comrades did not put the dots together, that the sneeze was a symptom of his allergies rather than the cold that was notably floating through the halls. Fearing for their own immune systems, they retreated several paces, but not before Miche thrust the flowers in Levi’s grip and snapped his hand back, no chance of handing them back now.

By the time Levi turned himself around, arm still bent at his nose, the pair was already a distant blur.

Nanaba waved over her shoulder, “Feel better soon! Don’t come near us until you do!” A joking-not-joking singsong to her departure.

“Have fun with those!” Miche cupped his hand around his mouth, allowing his bid to beckon from down the corridor, “You can thank us later!”

Levi dropped his arm, prepared to call back. Doing so, however, meant that his guard was let down, and he should have known better, that his assailant would be quick to take advantage. With the distance, Levi did not turn or cover - not that he had the time for that - and instead ducked his head down, sneezing onto his own torso. “Hnn’kkshu! Heh-ISHhew!!”  

Unfortunately for him, the height at which he landed placed him adjacent to the very bouquet that set him off. A dire proximity, each inhale killed every second - any hope - of relief. 

The mess was not only audible, it was tangible, piercing the threads of his button-up and sinking through to his undershirt, summoning a shiver. The clean freak could not bear the sight, nor was it his habit to. After each sneeze and before opening his eyes, he assessed the tickle. If it remained, his lids likewise remained shut until his system managed to kill it. The first attempts at regular breaths informed him outright: you’re not done yet. Levi kept his head down, bangs intercepting his eyeline with each jolt. “Heh’tchew! Kk’shuu!!” 

Once again, he paused to survey his own state. Although he beckoned for a break, his body merely mocked him. That all you got? Clearly unsatisfied, with frustration, he submitted to its demands, exacerbating the expulsion as best as he could, aiming to please. “Hah-ESHhew!! HIH’kit-chew! Hah…Hah-AEshih!!” 

His intakes had been audible even from those meters away, his fit an early alarm clock for all still asleep in the vicinity. Dammit. As an insomniac, he was especially remorseful to have been responsible for waking anyone on the weekend. Even redder now, he tried to convince himself it was not his fault, that they should have known better than to shove those flowers in his face. However, as his voice crescendoed, it became more of a stretch to blame the gifters rather than the receiver, the inducer over the screamer.

The burn in his sinuses was unbearable, he decided to look to the windows behind him, hoping to coax relief. Before he could lure his gaze that way, though, he caught a glimpse of pity on his teammates, and somehow, that was what bothered him the most.

Fuck, this has to stop. At this point in the fit, breaths were hard to come by, and his life-or-death experiences had molded his mindset to meet his most urgent needs first. Perhaps counterintuitive, Levi understood that defeating the irritant meant battling with it. Working through rather than around. Meeting their eye contact, Levi yanked their gift to his face and took a deep, deliberate intake, figuring that his unconventional strategy could get two messages across: he was allergic to their gift, but at least it was good for something. And maybe they’ll remember this scene come next year.

Indeed, they would, and Levi would be lucky if the memory remained confined to those two. The finale was a sneeze that made them cover their ears and made the last few sleepers snap up in panic. For him, the aftermath resembled the end of a workout: tire and exhaustion, yet inexplicable relief. For them, it read like a newspaper headline: steadfast, hardass germaphobe of the branch soaked in his own saliva and other unspeakable substances. The tight-lipped, ever calm captain engaged in the toughest battle of his life: no titan in sight, but tiny irritants also impossible to see. Screaming the barracks awake, he would have been the last culprit anyone suspected. Only true friends would keep this episode a secret, maybe he shouldn’t have been so terse with them.

Vengefully, and with the slightest bit of told you so, Levi motivated himself through the end with the anticipation of seeing their guilty faces, but by the time he opened his eyes again, they were long gone, either cowering from contagion or gossiping already. Around here, viruses and rumors spread like wildfire. 

Worked up and let down, Levi released a shaky exhale, wiped his face with his sleeve, flung the door shut behind him, and tossed the bouquet onto his bed.

One down.

tbc!

[moonshere]

Another day another ISAT live posting, some more thoughts and potential spoilers

Man man man where to even BEGIN! God this game gets more and more heart wrenching by the minute!!

to be clear, I’m currently at Act 3 I think? I tried to help everyone all at once so I did one full run with no skips to get all the info I needed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what every else’s pov of Siffrin is like. At the moment my Siffrin is over lvl 60, so he managed to one-shot a lot of the enemies.

How does it look to everyone else? Your friend, the cheeky, pun-loving, trap and puzzle master. Who’s known more for their speed, killing enemies faster than anyone else. And while exploring they don’t look around, they just take the keys in the correct order and manage to choose the correct path every single time.

I noticed that some interactions you can make your friends notice that you’re acting suspiciously. So far I only got Odile to comment on it (and get interrupted rip) and Isabeau to say they will talk later about it. But I’m REALLY hoping there’s a way to get Siffrin’s friends to actually confront him before a loop end so he can actually freaking open up!!!

On that note, I know that I’ve only been talking about Siffrin (I can’t help myself ajdbhsbs they’re my absolute fav and consume my every thought!) I ADORE all the other characters too!!!

Mirabelle is soooooo freaking cute!! (I’ll be honest her character design is one of the reasons that made me want to play the game aidhisns) I’m so so so happy that she’s someone who’s aroace and adores romantic novels!!! There really isn’t that many aroace characters out there, especially one I relate to. But her!!!! It made me so happy!! I loved the scene between her and Siffrin (and that they’re ALSO ace and maybe alloromantic?? Demi??? I’m still unsure haha) their friendship means everything to me!! I also love the subtle way they confirmed she has anxiety! I’m kinda half wondering where she used to live before the House of Change considering how much she talked about how the headmaiden taught her everything

Odile is also so cool!! Finding out that she was only looking for half of her heritage, trying to find somewhere she belongs was something I did not expect but expands so much on her character. At first I thought she was just gonna be the Adult of the group, wise, knows what she’s doing, distant and Too Cool. But this was genuinely so good cuz it showed that Odile is just as unsure as everyone else. Hell, she and Siffrin turned out to have so much in common!! Finding a place to belong but finding nothing but yourself. I loved it so much!

little Bonnie!! They are so stinking cute I would absolutely die for them!! I like how- in a turn on how kids in video games are always put in incredibly dangerous situations and adults let them just cuz they are determined to help- Bonnie is always the one the group wants to protect the most. Even though they wanna help (and they do!! Their heals are lifesaving frfr) it’s always within the limit of their own safety. I also loved their hang out, the hug was so sweet!! Seriously, if anything happened to them I would cry

And lastly Isabeau!! He's so sweet!! i love how much he looks out for Siffrin! I’m not sure if it was a scripted event or that I managed to raise enough sus points for him to notice, but I love how when he noticed that Siffrin isn’t doing ok, he decided to postpone the confession just so he can properly focus later on Siffren’s own mental state! Also also! After looking at the romance novels once again, I almost screamed when Siffren said they were aware!!! They know that Isabeau likes them!! (And their self deprecating comment once again,,,,) Seriously, what torture it must be to see him almost confess over and over and fail everytime!! I definitely want to go back to the ending one more time to see if he ever manages to say it (but man is the king fight long,,,) His hang out was also sweet!! I think also a possible nod to what Siffrin’s home town is? If related to the stars?? But either way, the full on picnic afterwards was so cute!!

I just had to do a full run with them all together once again without any looping cuz Siffrin said so, all the new cutscenes with them together was just the sweetest!! The woodcutting one, the hair brushing, all of it is so soft!! the ending scene where they said they were a family just 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I can’t I can’t this game is too good!! I think the worst part of this though, is seeing Siffrin hoping, despite himself, that maybe, maybe, this time might be it. That all he needed was to be safe, to be happy, to be loved

And it still wasn’t enough

[bysaber]

Picking the perfect tree ft. Obito Uchiha

Day 02 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — obito uchiha, an exiled war criminal, doesn’t understand why you’re so obsessed with a tree.

word count — 807

content — fluff, post-war!obito (he survived because I wanted him to), he’s a sad boi, longing, friends to lovers kinda

notes — hai! second fic of many I hope ^_^ obito is my fav boy and this isn’t the only fic I’ll write for him in this event even though I know not many people simp for him. on a second note, I’m really hoping I can write all the 31 days. send me good luck! <3

“I don’t see the point.”

Obito stood by your side with crossed arms, his puzzled eyes watching you cautiously as you analyzed a pine tree as if it were the most important and interesting thing in the world.

Maybe it was, but he didn’t get it.

“Nah, this one is not good enough,” you stated, at last.

He sighed, more lost than ever, not complaining when your gloved hand closed around his wrist and dragged him further into the forest.

“They all look the same to me,” he observed. “Sure, some are smaller and have fewer branches, but they’re just… trees?”

Your giggle didn’t go unnoticed by him and, as usual, it warmed his body in that unfamiliar way, his stomach fluttering from this all-new sensation.

No, not new.

Obito knew exactly what feeling was that; something he felt when he was just a foolish kid, the feeling that made him try harder to impress someone, that got him all messy and blushy and kissing portraits.

The feeling that created longing and, eventually, created hate.

Looking back, what was Obito doing if not trying desperately not to forget what it was like to feel like that? Starting a war to feel it again, even if it weren’t real.

Countless mistakes in the name of love, and Obito just accepted he wasn’t deserving of such a thing – love.

And yet, you stood there in front of him. Picking a damn tree for whatever reason, and making him feel all over again.

After being forgiven but exiled to a distant village, there you were. You knew his crimes and yet you showed up at his door every day, convincing him to take a walk with you until you became friends.

And today you showed up smiling like always, “Hey, let’s buy a tree for your house.”

And there you were.

“I liked the way you described the trees, so I’ll trust your eyes,” you said after a while, apparently conflicted. “I don’t know if we should pick this one or that one, which one is taller and has more branches?”

He wanted to laugh at you and your silliness, but eventually gave up, “That one.”

You smiled widely at him and, even though he wanted to scream at you to stop making him feel like that, he smiled shyly back at you.

Quickly talking to the couple who ran the tree business, you paid them while Obito seemed lost in thoughts and you brought the tree home with the help of some ninjas that worked there.

When the tree was installed in a corner of his living room and the two of you were left alone again, he blinked slowly with a blank expression, “I still don’t get it. Why do I need a tree inside my house?”

He was so clueless it was cute and you couldn’t help but laugh, flustering him further, “You’re such a dork, Obito! Let me finish this, ok?”

With red hot cheeks, he hummed in agreement as you placed your backpack on the table and started pulling out a lot of weird things.

Weird, but beautiful things.

He eyed you curiously as you circled the tree with some sort of wire he couldn’t distinguish, wondering what that was for, and then you started putting beautiful decorations on the branches. It didn’t take long for the tree to come to life, bringing some sort of comfort to his dead house.

“Can you help me?” you asked after a while and he nodded, standing up as you handed him a star. “Put it on the top of the tree, please. I can’t reach it.”

He did exactly as he was told – he still didn’t understand what it was for but it was incredibly beautiful and, foremost, done by you.

When the star was placed he looked at you, then at the tree, and back at you, “It looks–”

“Wait! There’s still one thing for you to see before you say anything,” you interrupt him as you run to plug in the tree lights.

When you finally did and the tree lightened up, Obito got taken aback by the beauty of it all. All the colors and decorations came together, lighting up his living room and warming his heart. Something you did for him.

“Here in the village, we celebrate something called Christmas, a time to be reunited with people we love and celebrate. This is a Christmas tree, but there’s so much more I can show you,” you finally explain. “And I was hoping we could celebrate Christmas together.”

Obito looked down, tears burning his eyes without a warning. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve said tendering his soul like a remedy on every open wound he had.

It felt like he’d found the love he had reached for, for so long.

“Yes… yes, we can.”

[fourstarsoutofnine]

May I request some Hyrule fluff where he accidentally confessed to someone in the chain about his raging crush on the reader and then that someone told the reader? Hyrule's all sad abt it and wants to disappear bc he thinks "what business would they want with a loser like me?" so reader has to reassure him that's not the case at all

A/n:if there’s one thing I’m an advocate for, it’s making Rulie feel better about himself. Y’all know my favs are Rulie, four and legend🩷I wrote this in one go while taking breaks to slap box my cat, he kept biting me.

Warnings:only the abuse of italics used for emphasis. When you’re reading, read the italicized words like you’re stressing it. Y’all know that tho ofc. Also, this ain’t proofread

Reassurance.

Hyrule x Reader

The traveler is an incredible person all around. Kind, fun, adventurous, thoughtful—and don’t even get me started on what an incredible hero he is… but he doesn’t see it that way. Imposter syndrome is one heck of a mindset, and boy is it something he’s got.. imposter syndrome is something that makes you downplay your abilities and accomplishments, and if you ever asked the traveler if he lived up to the hero name, or his friends’ heroic abilities—or even the spirit of courage he’d tell you he didn’t. He’d negate the idea and change the subject before you even had the chance to refute him on it. Such was the exact reason he hadn’t confessed to a soul his feelings for you—especially not to you. You were incredible in his eyes, a sight to behold and an even bigger honor to be friends with. Although, he figured next to someone like the captain, the champion or even the smith he figured he couldn’t compete. In his mind he wasn’t even in the competition, let alone a contender in this race. He was just a traveler, someone who’s heroics were that of a happenstance. Right place right time kind of thing. Though, this longing and hearing for you was making him sick, keeping it to himself, he felt like a grocery bag with too many heavy items in it—ready to break and spill out all the contents. The contents, of course, being the way he thought of you, the dreams he had at night of laying by you watching the stars and making up your own constellations, whispering and giggling at what one another said. He’d kill and die for you, if only for a fraction of your time in return. He had to tell someone.

And oh, poor unsuspecting Sky. Sweet thing, he only wanted to help.

“Sky can i talk to you?” The traveler asked as he walked up to the hero, who was whittling down some wood to make into a little figurine for the ever bored sailor, who’d spent far too long at camp without something to do(the vet was going to strangle him had someone not suggested the boy go out and find a lake to play in while sky made a toy for him).

Sky looked up with a soft smile and baby blues the traveler was sure you’d prefer to his own dark brown eyes; they didn’t shine like sky’s did. “Sure! What’s up?” He sat down his project(which would be much to the vet’s dismay when the sailor returned and it wasn’t finished) to give the traveler his full attention.

“I have a confession to make. It’s nothing bad but-…..actually yes it is.” He started, already feeling defeated as his shoulders slumped, not wanting to admit it but also wanting to get it off his chest at the very same time. “I’m afraid I’ve caught feelings for y/n—which normally wouldn’t be a problem—only, they’re y/n, and I’m unfortunately nobody they’d like..”

“Are you kidding??? Of course they like you!!! They’d be thrilled to know!!!” Sky got up and the traveler panicked.

“Sky, where are you going—“

“To tell y/n! It’s nonsense you think they won’t like you! Like I said they’ll be thrilled!”

“Sky, no, please that—please don’t…” he stopped following the young man, looking like a sad wet cat with how defeated he felt. He was sure this was the end of your friendship. Farore, strike him down now. It’s over for him. He could’ve swore he saw the events of his life flash before his eyes as he watched Sky make his way over to you. He said something the traveler couldn’t hear, but he assumed it was the song of his death March. His eulogy. ‘There lies Link, our dear sweet traveler, who despite everything he went through, who saved his Hyrule from true doom and despair, despite the efforts of everything that tried to stop him from doing so, died of a broken heart—‘

In his lamenting, you had made your way over to him with soft eyes and the saddest smile. “—Link.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and you were glad it had finally not fallen on deaf ears. His eyes widened when he noticed you standing in front of him and he suddenly felt his breakfast pushing at the top of his throat, wanting to escape the twisting and turning of the nervous butterflies the rushed the home it had made in his stomach.

“Hi.” You said exasperatedly in a laugh. “What’s this about you saying you’re ‘nobody I’d like’? Of course I like you?”

“But why?” He finally broke. “Why would you? I’m not—I’m not a real hero—and I’m not strong like the rancher or skilled and talented like the smith or suave like the captain and Hylia knows I can’t cook like the champion, and—“

You put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. His words died in his throat and he melted, every bit of tension, every single thought—it all melted away the moment your lips touched his. You pulled away with a smile, wiping away the tear caught on the edge of his eyelashes.

“You don’t have to be. Link I don’t care if you’re not strong or skilled and talented or suave or can cook—I wouldn’t care if you were. I wouldn’t even care if you weren’t a hero—because that’s not why I like you. Din—I love you, Link. I love you because you’re sweet, and thoughtful, and caring and you put yourself before others—granted it’s sometimes—heck, oftentimes to your own detriment but regardless! You’re amazing, and I love you…”

The traveler couldn’t speak. He was at a total loss for words.

“…Link..?”

“…thank you…” he pulled you into a tight hug and you smiled sadly, hugging him back.

“Of course…” you said and let him take his time and break away on his own. Once he did, you smiled sadly again as you watched him wipe his tears.

“So-…are-… are we…”

“Yes. We are.” You said definitively and smiled when he lit up. He pulled you in again and gave you a kiss that was broken shortly after when the veteran yelled at the sailor for following him around and asking him questions about his magical items. You then looked over to see sky, frantically whittling down the toy that was meant to be finished by the time the boy returned to camp.

“..whoops.” The traveler laughed nervously. “..we’re gonna not tell the vet I pulled sky away from his work… he’s not the best to be around when he’s mad…” he said and you covered your mouth to keep you from laughing. Though, even if the vet did come to drag your boyfriend away and tell him off, the both of you were sure it wouldn’t ruin your day. Not after the moment you two shared.