#this was pretty much the best since i'm back

[inkedbybarnes]

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?” ⎯ how to lose a bet and your heart in seven days.

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . things just get more interesting when you're fake-dating the hot nerd and are involved in a bet with him.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 64OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ hihi >< so like, part two hehehehhehehe. this turned out to be literally double the wc from the previous one..... oh and i just crossed 8OO followers???? what???? like two posts ago i crossed 7OO, oh good lord, thank you so much!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

you had never seen jeongin this stressed in your uni year.

it had been barely a day since the dinner, and he was already acting like his life was spiraling out of control. not that you blamed him—you were a handful, after all. but still, the man looked like he was fighting for survival, while you?

you were thriving.

not only were you fake-dating him in front of his family, but thanks to him, you also had the perfect bet to keep things interesting.

and now? now, you were at the usual café on campus, sitting comfortably with your group—felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho—while absolutely basking in the aftermath of your deal with jeongin.

the blonde leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "so let me get this straight," he began, voice amused.

"you made a bet with the yang jeongin—topper, nerd, absolute try-hard—where you get to flirt with him for three whole months, and if he falls for you, you win?"

you grinned, stirring your latte lazily. "mhm."

ryujin raised a brow. "and if you lose?"

you waved a dismissive hand. "then he gets to ignore me forever, i guess."

yeji snorted. "as if he'd actually do that. boy’s definitely gonna lose."

minho, who had been silently observing all this time, sipped his americano before finally speaking. "you're really confident, huh?"

you flashed him a smirk. "min, have you met me? of course, i'm confident. i know he’s gonna fall for me. i learn from the best, you know."

felix grinned. "well, duh. everyone loves you."

yeji smirked. "hyunjin and jisung sure do."

ryujin laughed. "oh yeah, didn’t hyunjin say you were literally his type?"

you shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "maybe."

felix gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "oh my god. is this why jeongin is acting so feral? is he jealous?"

"no, he’s probably just pissed that i exist."

minho scoffed. "that’ll change soon enough."

"exactly," you said smugly. "so, obviously, i’m winning this bet. there’s no way i’m falling first."

your friends exchanged looks, all of them barely holding back their very obvious amusement.

"sure," yeji said, lips twitching.

"of course," ryujin agreed.

minho sipped his drink again. "i totally believe you."

felix just grinned. "this is gonna be fun."

meanwhile.

jeongin had never been this mentally exhausted in his life.

one dinner. one stupid dinner. that was all it was supposed to be.

now? now he was fake-dating y/n in front of his entire family and locked in a three-month bet that would undoubtedly ruin him.

and to make things worse? jisung, seungmin, hyunjin, aeri, and yunah were not helping.

"bro," hyunjin was saying, leaning against the café booth with a stupid grin, "you’re done for."

"over. finished." jisung added, looking way too entertained.

jeongin shot them both a glare. "i am not going to fall for her."

hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "really?"

seungmin, ever the realist, merely sighed. "jeongin, have you met y/n?"

"yes, seungmin," jeongin deadpanned. "i have. unfortunately.*"

yunah giggled, twirling her straw. "she’s really pretty, though."

aeri smirked. "and hot. and cute. and bold."

hyunjin nudged jeongin. "she literally calls you 'hot nerd.' i would’ve folded instantly." he said, dramatically putting a hand on his heart while pretending to faint.

jeongin shot him a disgusted look. "you have no standards."

jisung snorted. "and you have no chance."

"i hate all of you." (and we're back !!)

"no, you don’t," jisung said, grinning. "you hate that you know we’re right."

seungmin nodded. "statistically speaking, you're screwed."

"oh my god," jeongin muttered.

jisung clapped his hands together. "alright! place your bets! how long do we think it’ll take for jeongin to fall first?"

"two weeks," hyunjin said immediately.

"a month," aeri guessed.

yunah smirked. "three weeks, max."

"one week," jisung announced proudly.

jeongin slammed his drink down. "i hate every single one of you."

almost a week later.

you found jeongin in the library, because of course you did.

dressed in an oversized cream sweater, silver-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose, black slacks, and expensive-looking loafers, he looked annoyingly good for someone who spent all his time studying.

unfortunately for him, you were here to ruin his peace.

sliding into the seat across from him, you grinned. "morning, iyennie."

jeongin didn’t even look up. "no."

you gasped dramatically. "no? that’s all i get? where’s my 'good morning, beautiful?' my 'you look stunning today, y/n'?"

jeongin exhaled sharply. "why are you here?"

you leaned forward on your elbows, smirking. "to see my lovely boyfriend, obviously."

jeongin twitched. "we are not fake-dating at uni."

you shrugged. "doesn’t mean i can’t flirt with you."

jeongin dragged a hand down his face. "i hate this bet."

"you literally proposed it, genius."

his jaw clenched. "i hate you."

you batted your lashes. "no, you don’t."

jeongin physically recoiled. "oh my god."

across the library, hyunjin and jisung sat at another table, watching the interaction with matching grins.

hyunjin nudged jisung. "one week?"

jisung smirked. "one week."

. . .

“i’ve decided that i’m going to end you.”

jeongin barely looked up from his notes. “cool. try not to be too obvious about it.”

“no, really,” you said, leaning forward across the library table, resting your chin on your hands as you stared at him. “i’m going to make your life miserable.”

jeongin finally glanced up, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses with the most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. “isn’t that what you’ve already been doing?”

you gasped, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “wow. that was hurtful, iyen.”

jeongin twitched. “stop calling me that.”

you grinned. “make me.”

his fingers curled around his pen, and for a second, you wondered if he was genuinely considering launching it at your forehead.

the library was quiet, aside from the occasional whispers of students flipping through books, the dull hum of the air conditioning, and the muffled sounds of footsteps against the carpeted floor. your table was nestled in the back corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves and dim lighting that gave the whole setting a very academic romance kind of vibe—not that jeongin would ever admit that.

and, of course, the two of you weren’t alone.

like said earlier, across from you, at another table, were felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho, watching with way too much amusement.

they can't miss good entertainment, right?

and a few tables away, jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri, and yunah, were also watching with expressions that ranged from entertained to downright smug.

because, honestly? no one believed jeongin was going to win this bet.

not even jeongin himself.

"are you done?" he asked, voice clipped, flipping a page in his notes.

you smirked. "not even close."

leaning back in your chair, you crossed one leg over the other, watching him with open interest. he was dressed as he always was—annoyingly fashionable for someone who didn’t seem to care about fashion. a fitted black turtleneck, an oversized houndstooth blazer, tailored slacks, and his signature silver-rimmed glasses that rested so perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

his black hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration all morning (which, knowing you, he probably had).

"you know," you mused, tilting your head, "if you weren’t so insufferable, i’d probably have a crush on you."

his pen hovered mid-air, his lips parting slightly before he turned to glare at you. "what?"

you shrugged. "what? i’m just saying. you’re kind of my type. hot. smart. dresses well. severely grumpy. i like a challenge."

jeongin’s eye twitched. "w—"

"oh my god," hyunjin suddenly groaned from across the room, throwing his head back. "can you two just kiss already?"

jeongin immediately choked on air.

your lips twitched as you turned to hyunjin. "not yet, jinnie. i have a bet to win, remember?"

hyunjin smirked. "oh, you will win. no doubt about it."

jisung laughed. "he’s already halfway there."

"this is a library, hello?" the librarian hissed.

"but we're the only ones here, miss y-"

jeongin slammed his book shut, stood up, and turned to you with murder in his eyes. "we’re leaving."

you blinked innocently. "we are?"

"yes." he grabbed your wrist and tugged you up from your seat, ignoring the very loud, very obnoxious oooohhhhhs coming from both friend groups.

felix gasped. "look at him. so dominant."

"i didn’t know he had it in him."

"they grow up so fast."

seungmin merely shook his head, unimpressed. "he’s just running away."

jeongin glared at all of them before practically dragging you out of the library.

now playing, if you love me by colde

the late afternoon sun draped the campus in warm, honey-colored light, stretching long shadows across the pavement. the air was crisp but comfortable, carrying the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café nearby. a few students walked past, caught up in their own conversations, but none of them paid much attention to the very mismatched pair walking down the sidepath.

jeongin was suffering.

because you were practically dragging him.

"y/n," he grumbled, his arm stiff as you held onto his wrist. "why are you like this?"

you hummed, pretending to think. "born this way, i guess?"

jeongin sighed, shaking his head. "no remorse. none at all."

"absolutely none," you confirmed cheerfully, still leading him forward.

he didn’t know where you were taking him. you probably didn’t either. but that didn’t seem to matter to you. it was just one of those things—where you decided something, and everyone else just had to go along with it.

he really should have thought this through before making that bet.

the sky was beginning to shift into soft hues of orange and almost blue when jeongin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and immediately stiffened.

his mom.

he stopped walking so abruptly that you almost crashed into him.

"whoa—" you blinked at him. "what’s wrong?"

he held up a finger. "be quiet."

you snorted. "like hell."

"y/n."

you grinned, unbothered, as he answered the call.

"hello?" jeongin said, his voice immediately shifting into something softer, more polite.

"oh, jeongin! how are you, sweetheart?"

you gasped dramatically beside him. sweetheart?

jeongin shot you a look. a warning. a plea.

you ignored it completely.

"hello, ms. yang!" you chirped before he could stop you, leaning in way too close to the phone. "how are you?"

there was a pause on the other end.

and then—

"oh, y/n, dear! how lovely to hear your voice!"

jeongin closed his eyes. no, no, no—

you beamed. "aw, you're so sweet. it's lovely to hear yours too!"

jeongin wanted to die.

his mother laughed. "such a charming girl! i hope my son is treating you well?"

you turned to him with the smuggest smile, tilting your head. "oh, he’s wonderful, ms. yang. so sweet. so attentive."

jeongin gave you a blank stare, deadpan. you? a menace.

his mother sighed happily. "ah, that's good to hear. oh! that reminds me—jeongin, darling, you haven’t forgotten about next weekend, have you?"

jeongin blinked. "uh… next weekend?"

you raised an eyebrow, watching him.

"the family gathering, jeongin!" his mom continued. "your uncle’s wedding anniversary celebration. you have to come. and of course, you must bring y/n!"

jeongin froze.

you?

you? (i'd be offended)

he turned to you so fast you almost thought his neck might snap.

you, on the other hand, were staring at him with way too much excitement in your eyes.

he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to stay neutral. "oh… right. that."

you leaned in, lips parted in interest.

ms. yang laughed. "don't tell me you forgot?"

jeongin exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his temple. "i… might have."

you gasped. "baby!"

he glared.

"oh, don’t worry, dear," his mom said, brushing past his frustration entirely. "it’s going to be a lovely event! you must come with him, y/n! i won’t take no for an answer."

your grin widened.

jeongin knew that look.

it was the look of pure evil. the look of someone who had just won. (no he just read too many comics)

you placed a hand over your heart, feigning surprise. "oh my gosh, ms. yang, really? you’d want me there?"

"of course!" his mother said immediately. "you’re practically family now!"

jeongin almost choked for the umpteenth time that day.

you looked so pleased.

"well, in that case," you said sweetly, "i’d love to come. wouldn't want to disappoint a lovely lady like you, ms. yang."

ms. yang sighed, completely oblivious to his suffering. "wonderful! oh, i knew i liked this girl!"

jeongin shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. why him?

"alright, sweetheart, i won’t keep you two," his mom said. "make sure to text me later, okay?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. "bye, mom."

"have a good evening, ms. yang!" you called cheerfully.

the call ended.

silence. and then—

"you evil, evil woman," jeongin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

you grinned. "aw, is my baby upset?"

"don’t call me that."

"oh, but i must," you teased, tapping his arm. "we are dating, after all."

jeongin groaned.

you rocked back on your heels. "sooo. a family event, huh?"

"shut up."

"your entire family is gonna be there?"

"y/n—"

"and your relatives?"

jeongin exhaled slowly, praying for patience. "yes."

you beamed. "god, i love this bet."

jeongin stared at you. "why are you enjoying this?"

you shrugged. "because you're not."

his eye twitched. "i hate you." (.........yeah, yk the drill)

"you love me."

"shut up."

you giggled, nudging his arm as you started walking again. "come on, hot nerd. we have so much planning to do."

jeongin sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he followed after you.

he wasn't going to lose this bet.

he wasn't.

but, why did it feel like you had already won?

—

the city was beginning to glow.

golden streetlights flickered on, one by one, casting soft halos onto the pavement. neon signs buzzed to life in the distance, painting the skyline in hues of red, blue, and green. the cool evening air carried a mix of scents—freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, the faint spice of street food stalls setting up for the night, and something softer, like rain on warm pavement.

and in the middle of it all—you and jeongin.

he was still following you, albeit begrudgingly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"are you actually planning on telling me where we're going?" jeongin asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

you only grinned, walking a little ahead of him, as you turned around, still walking backwards, facing him. "nope."

he sighed. "of course not."

as the two of you had left the campus a while ago, jeongin had expected you to stop at the nearest café, maybe a convenience store. but instead, you kept walking. past the busy streets, past the familiar landmarks, past the places where most students usually hung out.

and now?

now, you were leading him through quieter roads, where the buildings weren't as tall, where the sky was starting to open up above you, where the city lights didn’t drown out the stars entirely.

it was weirdly peaceful.

not that he'd admit it.

"you're too trusting," jeongin muttered, watching as you walked ahead of him without a care in the world.

you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "oh? and why's that?"

"you’re just… walking around at night, alone, dragging me—your supposed fake boyfriend—to some unknown location." he narrowed his eyes. "for all you know, i could be leading you into danger."

you let out a soft laugh. "oh, please. if anyone’s the danger here, it’s me."

jeongin rolled his eyes. "right."

"you think i'm scared of you, topper?" you smirked, nudging his shoulder. "you’re, like, the least threatening person i’ve ever met."

"good," he said flatly. "that means i can stop pretending to tolerate you."

you gasped dramatically. "so rude! and here i was, thinking we were bonding!"

"bonding?" jeongin scoffed. "you kidnapped me."

you hummed, tilting your head. "wouldn’t call it kidnapping. more like… involuntary adventuring."

"that’s literally just a fancier way of saying kidnapping."

"details, details." you waved a hand dismissively, your bracelets jingling softly.

jeongin shook his head, but there was a small—very small—curve to his lips.

for a while, the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. the only sounds were the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement, the occasional passing car, and the distant chatter of city life.

"you come here often?" jeongin asked suddenly, his voice softer now.

you glanced at him, slightly surprised by the question. "hmm?"

"wherever it is we're going," he clarified, watching your expression closely. "you seem… familiar with the way."

you hesitated for a second, but then you smiled. "yeah. i do."

he studied you, noticing how your fingers fiddled with the strap of your bag—a small, almost absentminded gesture. "alone?"

"sometimes." you exhaled lightly, looking up at the sky. "other times, with my friends."

jeongin didn’t miss the slight shift in your tone. it was subtle, but it was there.

"and tonight?" he asked, glancing at you. "why me?"

you turned your head toward him, meeting his gaze.

and for a moment—just a moment—you didn’t say anything.

the city lights reflected in your eyes, turning them into something almost ethereal. the night breeze played with the loose strands of your hair, making them dance against your cheekbones. there was something unreadable in your expression, something jeongin couldn’t quite place.

but then— you grinned.

"because i felt like annoying you," you said simply.

jeongin blinked. and then scoffed. "wow. and here i thought i was special."

"oh, you are," you teased, looping your arm through his before he could react. "you're my favorite victim, actually."

he stiffened. "y/n—"

"you’re warm," you interrupted, pressing closer. "a human heater. i should keep you around more often."

jeongin let out a very long sigh, tilting his head toward the sky like he was asking some higher power for patience.

"you're insufferable," he muttered.

"and you are cute."

"shut up."

you giggled. "ooooh, that blush is telling me a different story."

jeongin groaned, refusing to meet your gaze. "i hate this bet."

"you love this bet."

he side-eyed you. "you know, i think you might be evil."

you only winked. "oh, honey. i'm very aware."

and the walk continued like that—small banter, stolen glances, the occasional brush of hands when neither of you were paying attention.

jeongin hated how natural it felt.

hated how easy it was to talk to you.

hated how, despite himself, he was actually curious about where you were taking him.

he didn’t get attached.

he didn’t, right?.

but with every teasing smile you threw his way, with every time your fingers lingered against his, with every moment you laughed at something he said—

he started to wonder.

maybe jisung had been right.

maybe this bet was a really, really bad idea.

the view you chose for me

the path sloped upward, curving gently along the hillside. the city behind you had slowly started to fade, the buzzing neon signs replaced by the soft hum of cicadas, the distant rustling of leaves, and the whisper of the evening breeze. the sky above stretched out like a painting, shifting from the last golden hues of sunset into the deepening blues of twilight.

jeongin slowed his steps, glancing at you. "are we almost there?"

"patience, iyennie," you hummed, walking ahead with a skip in your step. "good things take time."

he rolled his eyes, but a small, amused exhale escaped his lips.

then, finally, the world opened up.

the trees thinned, revealing an expansive hilltop that overlooked the city. a vast, open field of wild grass spread around you, swaying lightly in the wind. the horizon stretched endlessly, where the last golden threads of daylight kissed the deepening night. below, the city twinkled like scattered stars, a soft, pulsing glow of blues, oranges, and whites.

and above, the first stars had begun to appear.

tiny, glimmering specks against a sky that seemed endless. wisps of deep indigo melted into shades of violet, streaked with soft pinks from the remnants of the sun. there was something ethereal about it—something quiet, untouched, almost unreal.

jeongin exhaled, barely noticing how his breath caught for a second.

you, on the other hand, stretched your arms out with a dramatic sigh. "isn't it beautiful?"

he glanced at you.

the wind had tousled your hair, strands of it floating like silk against the dim light. your face, turned toward the sky, was bathed in soft twilight, the shadows curving gently along your cheekbones. your eyes reflected the distant stars, and when you smiled—

your lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin, and your eyes crinkled into tiny crescents.

something in jeongin’s chest lurched.

"yeah," he murmured before he could stop himself. "it is."

you turned to him, blinking. "see? told you it was worth it."

jeongin tore his gaze away, clearing his throat. "it’s… alright."

you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "wow. that almost sounded like a compliment, yang."

"don’t push your luck," he muttered, walking past you.

you grinned, plopping down on the grass before patting the space next to you. "sit. enjoy the view."

he hesitated.

then, with a small sigh, he sat down beside you, the grass cool beneath his palms. the air smelled faintly of earth and rain, the breeze gentle as it curled around both of you.

a moment passed in silence, the two of you simply staring at the sky.

you reached into your bag, pulling out a small snack box.

jeongin glanced over. "what’s that?"

"food, obviously," you teased, opening the lid. inside, neatly packed, were a few triangular onigiris wrapped in seaweed. "can't survive without snacking every moment,"

you picked one up and held it out to him. "here. i made these this morning."

jeongin blinked. "you cooked?"

"is it so surprising? i'm a good chef, i'll have you know." you frown, and wiggled the rice ball in front of him. "c’mon. try it. first time making them, so i need honest feedback, topper."

he hesitated, eyeing you for a second before reaching out to take it.

and that’s when it happened.

you looked at him—waiting, expectant, your expression filled with the kind of excitement that was so genuine it almost startled him. the soft glow of the evening light traced the edges of your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the arch of your brow, the slight parting of your lips. your lashes cast tiny shadows against your skin, and when you smiled, your dimples deepened, your eyes turning into crescents once again.

jeongin—

forgot to breathe.

for a fraction of a second, he didn’t care about the stupid bet. didn’t care about the fake dating, or the fact that he was supposed to be annoyed by all of this.

all he could think about—

was how pretty you looked.

and then—

you turned your gaze back to the sky.

the moment broke, like ripples in a pond.

jeongin blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look anywhere else. he bit into the onigiri, trying to act normal.

it was good.

really good.

but he wasn’t about to inflate your ego, obviously.

"it’s… okay," he mumbled.

you frowned, clutching your chest. "just okay?"

he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "i’m just being honest, like you asked."

you narrowed your eyes, then suddenly leaned in closer, way too close. "are you lying?"

jeongin stiffened.

you were right there, inches from his face, eyes locked onto his like you were searching for the truth. the scent of vanilla and something faintly floral drifted from you, and jeongin—

had to grip his knee to keep himself from leaning back.

"i—" he swallowed. "no."

you hummed, tilting your head. "hmm. suspicious."

then, before he could react, you grinned.

"well, i think i did an amazing job." you leaned back, stretching your arms behind you. "maybe i should become a chef. quit university. open a cute little café. i’d call it ‘y/n’s love bites.’"

"love bites?" jeongin actually choked on air this time.

"hey, careful!" your eyes widened, your hands immediately burying into your bag, pulling a bottle out. you hand it to him, after opening it.

"what? is it not a nice name?" you pout at the look he gave you after gulping down the entire bottle, still coughing.

"really though? love bites?"

"mhm." you laughed. "because.. love bites. and because i’m good at biting. and love. and actually, love b-"

"god forbid a man wants to have a snack in peace."

you burst out laughing. "jeez, relax, iyennie. i’m kidding."

"you’re really insufferable."

"and you are fun to tease." you winked.

jeongin groaned, looking away.

but his ears—

were very, very red.

—

the stars were out in full now, scattered across the endless stretch of the night sky. the city below twinkled in response, as if the lights of the world and the heavens were competing for brilliance. the grass beneath you both was soft, slightly damp from the evening air, but comforting in a way that made neither of you want to move.

the silence between you had settled into something familiar—not awkward, not tense. just there. a moment where neither of you had to fill the space with meaningless words.

but then again, you’d never been one for silence.

"so," you started, shifting slightly so you faced him, "i realized something."

jeongin barely glanced at you, still watching the stars. "what?"

"i don’t know anything about you."

he raised an eyebrow. "you know plenty."

"mm, do i?" you leaned back on your palms. "i know you're stinky smart. i know you have the ability to make even professors shut up with a single argument. i know you have the fashion sense of a pinterest model and the patience of a grandma stuck in traffic."

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "that’s oddly specific."

"am i wrong?"

"…no."

"exactly." you grinned before tilting your head. "but i mean, i don’t know you. like, i don’t know what makes you tick. what makes you.. you. i don’t know what you wanted to be when you were a kid, what your childhood was like, what your favorite memory is."

jeongin stayed quiet, eyes flickering toward you briefly.

you rested your chin on your knees, watching him. "i wanna know."

"you’re way too curious."

"and you’re way too closed off."

he sighed, shaking his head. "you don’t need to know all that. we’re only dating in front of my parents. not here."

"yeah, well, i want to get to know you," you said simply. "and this is completely unrelated to the whole fake dating thing. it can be platonic, you know? i just think it’s unfair that you probably know way more about me than i do about you."

jeongin looked at you, thoughtful. "do i?"

"you tell me, topper."

his lips twitched slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering something. then, with a small sigh, he leaned back on his elbows.

"alright. what do you want to know?"

your eyes lit up. "anything?"

"within reason."

you hummed, thinking. "okay. what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

jeongin let out a short laugh. "you’re gonna make fun of me."

"oh, now i really have to know."

he rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "i wanted to be a detective."

your eyebrows shot up. "no way. detective yang jeongin?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered. "i used to love mystery novels as a kid. thought i’d grow up solving impossible cases, catching criminals, the whole thing."

you grinned. "that’s actually kind of cute."

he scoffed. "yeah, well, then i realized i’d have to deal with actual crime, and i was like, ‘yeah, no thanks.’"

you burst out laughing. "you wanted to be sherlock holmes but without the danger?"

"pretty much." he shrugged. "so i settled for something else."

"which is?"

"business and english."

you made a face. "oh so we're almost twinning?"

"i thought you knew?"

"um no? we barely share any other sessions, only sometimes, business."

"well that's because we have different batches, genius."

"huh. when's yours?"

"at nine."

you clicked your tongue. "good lord, typical topper behavior."

he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "alright, your turn. what did you want to be as a kid?"

you hummed. "i went through so many phases. i wanted to be a singer, a poet, an author, a fashion designer, a painter… i was all over the place."

jeongin’s eyes softened slightly. "you’re still kind of all those things."

you blinked, caught off guard, ready to fight. "excuse me?"

"no, i mean, you write. you sing. you compose. you’re always dressed like you just walked out of a magazine." his voice was casual, as if he wasn’t just casually complimenting you without thinking.

and for some reason—

your heart stumbled a little.

you quickly recovered, clearing your throat. "well. somebody is paying attention."

he smirked. "unfortunately."

you gasped, nudging his shoulder. "and here i thought we were having a moment."

"you should know better by now," he teased, but there was something gentle in the way he said it.

you huffed dramatically. "fine, whatever. but i thought walking out of a magazine was your thing?"

"i wouldn't mind someone appreciating fashion, darling."

"...moving on. next question. what’s your favorite memory?"

jeongin hesitated for a second. then, with a small exhale, he said, "when i was ten, my family took a trip to japan. we went during the cherry blossom season, and i remember standing under this huge tree, just watching the petals fall. it felt like…" he paused, searching for the word. "magic."

your lips parted slightly.

for a moment, you could see it—ten-year-old jeongin standing under a sea of pink, eyes wide with wonder, cherry blossoms falling around him like soft whispers of a dream.

"you still remember it that vividly?" you asked softly.

"yeah." he looked up at the sky. "some moments just… stick with you."

your chest ached a little at that.

you didn’t know why.

you shook off the feeling. "well. that’s a very wholesome memory."

he smirked. "what were you expecting? something embarrassing?"

"maybe," you admitted, grinning. "but i like this one, too."

a comfortable silence settled between you again.

"what about you?" he asked.

you blinked. "huh?"

"your favorite memory."

you smiled slightly, hugging your knees. "i have a lot of good ones. but, if i had to pick, maybe…" you trailed off, thinking.

jeongin waited patiently.

you finally spoke. "back home, we used to have power outages a lot. and whenever that happened, my mom and i would sit outside with candles, just talking. we’d make shadow animals on the wall, tell stories, and drink warm milk while waiting for the lights to come back."

jeongin listened intently, his expression unreadable.

"it was such a simple thing," you murmured, "but it always made me feel.. safe."

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

then, finally, he said, "that sounds.. comforting."

you glanced at him.

there was something warm in his eyes, something quiet and understanding.

and for the first time that night—

you weren’t thinking about the bet.

you weren’t thinking about how you were supposed to be fake dating in front of his parents.

it was just the two of you.

sitting under the stars.

sharing pieces of yourselves you never expected to.

and somehow— it didn’t feel fake at all.

it was peaceful.

you were still determined to learn everything about him.

not just for the bet.

not just for fun.

but because, if you were honest, he intrigued you.

and you always liked figuring people out.

so, after a few minutes of silence, you spoke again.

"so," you started, shifting slightly to face him, "we were talking about memories."

jeongin glanced at you. "we were."

"you know what we weren't talking about?" you raised an eyebrow. "your love life."

he scoffed. "love life? who said i have one?"

you gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to your chest. "wait, no way. don’t tell me you’ve never had a girlfriend before, iyennie."

"i literally told you i've never been on a date.. like on day one." he shot you a look. "also, don't call me that."

"i think you know that i don't believe that," you grinned. "also, i will always call you that."

he exhaled through his nose, clearly regretting ever agreeing to this conversation. "i’ve had one."

you perked up. "so you did!" your eyes lit up with curiousity. "so, one? as in, just one?"

"yeah."

"how long ago?"

he hesitated for a second. "three years."

your mouth dropped open. "damn, that’s—wait. that means you’ve been single since you were—"

"yeah, yeah," he cut you off, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just… haven’t really been interested in dating since."

"interesting," you mused. "so what happened?"

jeongin sighed, clearly debating whether to answer.

then, after a moment, he said, "she was.. nice. we just weren’t meant to be, i guess."

you narrowed your eyes. "that’s such a boring answer, yang. give me details."

he smirked slightly, shaking his head. "you’re really nosy, you know that?"

"and you're really secretive." you tilted your head, watching him. "it’s okay if it.. ended badly. you can tell me."

he was quiet for a beat, then finally spoke.

"it wasn’t bad, exactly. we just had different priorities," he admitted. "she wanted a lot more attention, a lot more time together. and i was…" he paused, exhaling. "i was too focused on school, my goals. she got frustrated. said i didn’t care about her enough."

you hummed. "did you?"

he frowned slightly. "i did care about her."

"but maybe not in the way she wanted," you guessed.

jeongin gave you a look, as if surprised at how quickly you caught on. "yeah."

you nodded, thoughtful. "so, you’re the kind of guy who expresses love in actions, not words, huh?"

he blinked. "i guess you could say that."

"noted." you grinned. "i’ll expect a bunch of favors and free tutoring sessions as proof of love."

he rolled his eyes. "we’re not in love."

"not yet," you teased.

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "you really think you’re gonna win this bet, huh?"

"oh, i know i will," you said smugly. "face it, topper, you like me."

"i tolerate you," he corrected.

"that's what they all say," you laughed. "give it time."

for a moment, he just watched you, his gaze unreadable. then, shaking his head, he muttered, "unbelievable."

you turned your attention back to the sky. "alright, next question."

"you’re not done interrogating me yet?"

"of course not. i’m just getting started." you shot him a smirk. "so, mr. future ceo, what’s something you’re actually passionate about? like, not just academically."

he hesitated.

you raised an eyebrow. "you do have hobbies, right? you don’t just study for fun?"

"of course i have hobbies," he muttered.

"well?"

"…i like music."

you blinked. "wait, really?"

he nodded. "yeah. i don’t do it as much now, but i used to sing trot with my grandparents all the time when i was younger."

you stared at him, genuinely surprised. "you? music?"

"what’s so shocking about that?"

"i don’t know! you just seem like ‘i only study and occasionally judge people’."

"well, i do judge people." he smirked. "i also kinda life photography, for some reason."

"really? so he likes singing and photography? what kinds?"

"mostly landscapes. architecture. things that don’t move too much."

you hummed. "so, no people?"

"not really." he glanced at you. "though… i think i’d like taking pictures of someone if they were interesting enough."

you tilted your head. "like who?"

for a second, jeongin didn’t answer. his eyes flickered over your face, something unreadable in his expression.

then, with a small smirk, he simply said, "dunno. haven’t found them yet."

your stomach did a weird little flip.

you cleared your throat. "huh. well. you should show me your pictures sometime."

he shrugged. "maybe."

you nudged his shoulder. "that means yes."

"that means maybe."

"sure, sure." you grinned before shifting topics. "alright, what’s your biggest ick in a person?"

he smirked slightly. "besides you?"

"rude," you huffed.

he pretended to think. "probably… people who pretend to be someone they’re not."

you nodded. "yeah, i get that. fake personalities are exhausting."

"what about you?"

you didn’t hesitate. "people who can’t communicate."

jeongin raised an eyebrow. "that’s… a very mature answer."

"right?" you sighed dramatically. "like, if you have a problem, just say it. why do people make everything so complicated?"

jeongin chuckled. "agreed."

there was a pause before you added, "also, people who wear socks to bed. they scare me."

he burst out laughing. "what? why?"

"i don't know, it just feels wrong!"

"you’re insane," he said, shaking his head.

"maybe. but at least i’m not a sock-sleeper."

jeongin laughed again, and for some reason, the sound made your chest feel warm.

the conversation continued, shifting from childhood stories to embarrassing moments, from random questions to deep musings.

at one point, you found yourself just… watching him.

the way his dimples appeared when he smiled.

the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

the way his gaze softened ever so slightly when he looked at you.

and maybe, just maybe—

you were in trouble.

but you weren’t going to admit that.

not yet.

for now, you were just a girl sitting under the stars with a boy who was supposed to be your fake boyfriend.

and yet, somehow—

it didn’t feel fake at all.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 116

jack had gotten a bad hit.

sure, tackles and hits are just a part of hockey – but this one was worse than usual.

he wasn't even sure how he got himself into the situation, but during his game against the bruins, his head had been bent down far too much when he had tried to shoot off a pass along the barrier. when an opponent went in for the tackle, jack's head hit the boards in a nasty angle, and everything had gone black instantly.

the directions from the team doctors were clear: he needed to stay in a dark room, with no lights or loud sounds. he wasn't allowed to use his brain too much, since that would only worsen the concussion. no phone, no stepping outside the bedroom for at least three whole days.

thankfully, your apartment was the perfect place to keep someone who'd just gotten a concussion; the blackout curtains of your bedrooms were of the best brand, keeping the room perfectly dark during all hours of the day. that's why jack now found himself lying flat on his back on your bed, with his arms relaxing restlessly along his body, just as he had for the last 48 hours or so.

this wasn't the first time jack got a concussion. even back when he was a young player, he was too intense, too focused and too stubborn that he didn't care about the risk of injury when doing certain things on the ice, meaning that he had been forced to go through the boring process of recovering from head trauma several times. he recognized the feeling, and he hated it just as much as he had when he was still a teenager, when he was forced to stay inside while his brothers and friends could still practice. he wanted to do something, anything, but the pounding in his head limited his actions to pretty much none.

he felt helpless.

but even through the pain, there was one thing that made him smile.

you.

he was so thankful that you were there for him. he slept for most of his days, not having enough energy to stay awake for longer periods of time. but every time he woke up, you were there; reading him a book, telling him a story from your childhood, catching him up on the recent news. he was so thankful, because he thought he would have gone insane if he had to endure this all on his own.

"jack?" you asked from your side of the bed, voice hushed as it had been for the last two days. there was a small hum of an answer. "don't you want anything to eat? it's been…" you squinted, trying to make out the time from the clock on your wall. "seven hours since you had breakfast."

jack stayed silent, taking a few deep breaths before opening his eyes. "yeah, i think so."

your little nightlight, a lamp in the form of a fox in a far corner of the room, was the only source of light. jack could still make out your face clearly, probably due to the last two days of practicing his night vision. the concern on your face translated to worry on his, and then it was all just a downward spiral. you hated seeing him like this. jack was usually so energetic, so happy, so… tireless. seeing him like this really hurt you – and suddenly, you were back in your old mindset again. the pain and the worry and the anxiety all boiled up into one big soup of guilt. for the way you've treated him, for the way you care for him, for everything that has happened these last months. you stood up from the bed, about to make your way to the kitchen to cook something for him, but you stopped at him calling out your name in that raspy voice of his. "i'm sorry." when you looked back at him with a confused look, he spoke again. "for last week, for-"

"jack, it's okay." you shook your head at him, putting on a small smile. you didn't want him to worry about this now, not when his head was already overworked. "really."

now it was his time to shake his head – or, as much of a shake he could handle without his brain exploding from the jolt of pain shooting through it whenever he moved even an inch – and his voice was firmer when he spoke again. "no, please don't interrupt me now. i want you to hear that i'm serious about how sorry i am."

your heart fluttered like never before. not once until today had a man spoken to you like this. like you were someone worth apologizing to, someone worth fighting for.

"i am so sorry about pushing and pressuring you. i never should have." he took a deep breath. "you have your reasons not to trust me and not let me in, i understand that. however," his hand reached for your side, wanting you closer. "i also hope that in time, things might change. and i hope to stick along to find out if they do, without pressuring you, no matter how long it takes."

at this point, you wanted to throw yourself into his arms, bury him in kisses and hug the life out of him. but with the memory of his concussion still in your mind, you settled for leaning down to his height and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips for the first time in weeks.

maybe things would be okay, after all.

[bananayuyu]

just friends (2) - back to the beginning

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 12.6k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral, cum eating

a/n: i have become completely obsessed with these two. I've mapped out 10 parts for this series (help me), please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the rest <33 new parts won't be coming out on any certain schedule as I have many other writing projects I'm working on, but I will for sure finish his series within the year. I'm too obsessed not to. also the argument at the end of this part is pretty nasty so please proceed with caution <3

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One Year Ago

"Titi, it's 4:15, get your ass up!" you called from her desk, squinting at your eyes in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your dark, heavy face of makeup.

"I know, sorry," she grumbled from her bed, slowly pushing off her comforter. "Winter makes me so sleepy," she yawned, stretching as long as she couch reach, her feet falling off the side of her mattress.

"You just love being late, I think," you joked, slapping closed the lid of your highlighter, putting the brush you used back into the drawer it came from.

"You'd think I do, with how often I am," she laughed, another yawn escaping her lips, her palms rubbing circles over her eyes.

"I'm leaving without you if you're running late, just so you know," you responded, stepping up off her desk chair and over to your trusty bag, double checking you had your costume for tonight, your phone, your keys, wallet, and makeup bag.

"I'm coming, just give me a second," she muttered, pushing herself up dramatically, a deep sigh wracking through her. "I didn't get to sleep till like ten in the morning."

"What were y'all doing?" you asked, chuckling, zipping closed your bag with a satisfying sound, everything packed just right for the day ahead.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed, waggling her eyebrows at you.

"You're a couple of fucking rabbits, you two," you shot back, staring at the disheveled state of your best friend. She tipped her head back, laughing hard, that bright full smile showing across her beautiful face. She'd been smiling a lot like that lately, ever since her and her girlfriend had made things official, ever since they'd decided to move in together.

"I'm sorry, I won't talk about it so much if it's annoying," she said, finally standing herself up and shlepping off her pajamas.

"Don't stop, it's very adorable," you responded. "Why would it be annoying?"

"Just cause, you know, your last situation was such a disappointment. I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in," she said, grabbing for a pair of black leggings and pink sweater in the pile of clothes on the floor.

"My last, what, three situations, actually?" you said, trying to remember each of the ridiculous members of the cast of dates you'd been on last year.

"Dating sucks," she said, pulling her leggings on, stumbling a bit.

"Not for you, it doesn't," you responded, crossing your arms.

"Well, not now, but it did for my whole life up until this point," she said.

"Ah, turned twenty-two and now you have it figured out?" you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Hey, don't get snippy with me missy," she pouted, pulling the sweater over her head.

"Sorry, you know I just like arguing for no reason," you sighed, chuckling a bit.

"I need to find you someone who likes it just as much as you do," she joked back, grabbing her phone off it's charger.

"But who's not actually an asshole?" you said.

"Yeah, exactly," she laughed, shooting off a quick text. "Shit, 4:20," she said, stuffing her phone into her own huge bag, not bothering to check it's contents like you just did.

"Okay, we're going now," you said, walking out into her living room, heading straight for the front door.

"Wait, just let me make a cup of coffee!" she called to you, stumbling behind.

"They have coffee where we work, you know," you remarked, looking back at her over your shoulder.

"Oh my god, you love saying shit like that," she rolled her eyes, following close behind you.

"I'm not wrong," you said as you opened the front door, stepping out into the hall.

"I just wanted my pretty mug," she sighed, stepping out after you.

"Then go grab it," you said, holding the door open.

"I can do that? Make coffee into a mug I've brought in?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Okay, if I get in trouble I'm blaming you," she said, running back in to grab her favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink.

"Fine, fine," you shook your head, closing the door once she'd come out again.

As soon as you exited the building you realized you'd worn too much; it might be January still, but it was hardly cold at all, this dense desert city holding all the heat the rest of the world must be craving.

"Can we slow down?" Tina asked from beside you, your shoulders bumping as you stepped around a huge group standing on the sidewalk outside of an Italian restaurant, chatter filling the air.

"I don't wanna be late," you answered, keeping your pace as it was.

"Dude, you're so wound up," she said, snaking her hand through your upper arm, genuinely worried you'll start sprinting off if she didn't ground you somehow.

"Sorry, I know," you said, linking your arm around her's. "I'm good, I swear. Just stressed about my manuscript submission," you said, flashing her a wary smile.

"They said they'd get back to you by next week, right?" she asked, gently pulling on you to help you avoid a dark spot of something sticky on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, next week," you sighed, letting out a disgruntled noise.

"Okay, so, you just gotta wait. You did all that work last year finishing that play, you should let yourself have some fun for a few weeks. We should all go out after work today, we haven't done that in forever," she said, the two of you snaking around a line of people standing outside the old movie theater that sat just a block from your place of work.

"Doesn't Maya work Sunday mornings?" you asked, pulling up at the corner to wait for the light to change.

"Usually, but not this week. She's on a later shift today so they gave her tomorrow off," she answered you, eyes darting around at the cacophony of sounds streaming through the streets from every direction.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, and Tina started laughing, squeezing onto your arm. "Shit sorry, did that sound sarcastic?"

"It's so funny when your tone goes all flat like that," she said beside you, a genuine smile on her face. "Seriously though, there probably won't be a Saturday night where she can come out with us for a very long time. We should do it. Maybe we can even convince Sasha and Bibi to come too."

"I'll think about it," you said as the light changed, the two of you stepping down onto the asphalt in front of you. A car honked loudly from your left, wanting to turn down the street you were walking across, and you both shot the driver identical looks of confusion over your shoulders. Only another minute and you were pushing through the side door of the bar, stepping right into the back of the kitchen and waving hi to the cooks on the line. The hallway to the dressing room was already uncomfortably hot; your light layers were far too much now, so you stripped them off quickly, shoving everything into your locker and checking your phone. You weren't late, after all. Thankfully, because you were on early tonight, second in the program, and you only had time to change into your costume and warm up a bit before Ilya was calling your name and pushing you down to the left wing of the stage.

It was a fairly normal night, by all accounts. You'd been working at the bar for nearly two years by then, one of the longer standing performers. There was high turnover in the staff, as was typical in a bar, but especially amongst the performers, who'd often find sudden success in movies or TV, or decide that pursuing this was just not for them anymore. Ages varied wildly; your boss Julie was not one to obsess over youth, or any other conventional markers of beauty. All she cared about was talent; she wanted to create the most interesting, jaw dropping, entertaining show this whole city had to offer, and there was no doubt she had succeeded. Every kind of person could be found working here; sometimes servers would take on a performing shift or two, and sometimes the opposite. It wasn't rare for you to be asked to take drinks to a certain table, your costume still on, sometimes staying in character as you placed them down in front of wonder-filled eyes. You all were expected to help each other out; once or twice you'd even been requested in the kitchen or behind the bar, when there'd been one too many sudden call outs.

It was a classy establishment. Doors opened at 4:30, the show promptly starting at 5pm; it ended at midnight sharp, the bar closing only half an hour later. It was the earliest place to close on the block, only open four days a week, Wednesday night through Saturday night. It was a place people went to pregame, to start their evening with a bang, or a place people went to see a great show before heading back home at a reasonable hour. There was a drinks limit; you all could deny a customer another if they were acting unruly, your security team inconspicuous under the dark shadowy light inside, but always watching. The food served was regular bar fare: tacos, wings, pizza, burgers, but it was high quality, so good that some people came frequently just for their favorite menu item. The place was known for its drinks, too, having hoards of non alcohol options that put every other bar's mocktail lists to shame. It was known for its organized and sparkly atmosphere, known as a reliable place to have a good ass night. The patronage was a mixed bag, but the place wasn't cheap; it tended to skew a bit older, a bit more mature. You didn't hate that; it meant the behavior was generally predictable, even if you didn't exactly fit in amongst the crowd cheering you on.

Halfway through the night you plopped down on your stool in the dressing room, scrubbing free the bits of eyeliner that had smudged below your eye during your first two solo performances of the night.

"Hey girl, sorry to bug, do you have any lashes I could borrow?" Sasha came running in, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"I should, let me see what I have," you said, setting your makeup wipe on your bare thigh and zipping open your bag.

"I'm so sorry to ask, but I literally don't have any with me," she sighed, coming to sit beside you. "My right one fell off on stage and I couldn't find it for the life of me. I was trying to look for it without making it obvious," she said, a nervy chuckle escaping her.

"No worries, here, look through there. Take whatever you need," you said, handing her the small box you kept your old and new lashes in.

"Oh darling, you're a lifesaver," she sighed, snapping it open and rifling through, finding the size she needed. She still had some of that newbie air about her, not six weeks into working with you. But already she had established herself as irreplaceable; by then she emceed almost every night she worked, and thank god for that, as none of the rest of you had any talent or desire for it. Julie tended to do it, if no one else was available, but having a beautiful drag queen host the evening, one who also performed in the show, was a much better choice in every way.

"A group of businessmen just walked in and took table four, I'm hoping one of them is interesting in all this," she said, leaning forward to place the replacement lash on her right eyelid.

"I'm sure one will be, Sash, you're fucking gorgeous," you said, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from your face and giggling.

"Oh sweetheart, you flatter me," she drawled, looking over her face in the mirror. "Do you think those straight-" she lifted her hands, making air quotes, "men can tell I'm not a woman in all the typical ways?"

"Girl, I wasn't even sure the first time I saw you. Your makeup skills are unmatched," you said, chuckling at her.

"Oh stop it," she joked, shaking her head at you. "I hope my hosting skills are half as good," she sighed, finally placing the lash on her eye just right and batting her hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to get the glue to dry quickly.

"Sasha, are you kidding? You put the rest of us to shame. You should have seen me the one night Julie made my try it out," you laughed, tossing your used makeup wipe in the waste basket beside you.

"I'm sure it was just fine, you little genius," she responded, blinking her eye open and closed a few times. "Sorry to cut this short, but I should probably get out there again."

"Go get 'em, girl," you responded, shooting a playful wink her way.

"Thank you again, darling," she said as she walked past, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You squeezed it briefly; "of course," you said. Then her heels were clacking past you, and soon the room filled with noise as nearly every performer on your cast came in to start their makeup, all of you preparing for the big group number of the evening.

You'd discovered the song, randomly, a few months back. The title, Kalyna, and the album art had intrigued you; after your first listen you were imaging the choreography immediately, turning on your phone to record the sudden ideas flooding your brain. You'd never choreographed a number for the bar, but you knew Julie would be open to it if you pitched it correctly. Three weeks later and you were teaching your coworkers the choreography, chaotic short lessons between everyone's normal performances, all of them picking it up lightning quick. It was an instant hit with your audiences, the night it debuted, and had been kept in the rotation longer than most of the other numbers ever were.

That night the air was buzzing in the dressing room; everyone looked sharp and stunning in their body suits, hair slicked back and pulled tight into buns. The makeup was angular; this number was meant to evoke a bit of tension, maybe even some fear in the audience. But it also showed the strength of the team, the strength of community, and the physical strength of each of you. It was your absolute favorite number that winter; you looked forward to it every night you worked, proud to know you'd created something that stuck so fondly in the minds of the people who watched.

As you hit the stage, you saw immediately what Sasha had just mentioned. Table four, which sat just off the right side of the stage, was cramped full of men in suits, every single one sharp and fitted and so obviously expensive. There was every type of man you could imagine at the table; you spotted immediately the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Sasha's dream come to life. And when she led the first eight counts towards the front of the stage, you saw his eyes take in everything, her long legs, her face, her deep rich eyes he seemed lost in. You nearly broke character; so rare was is that people in here flirted with the performers, oddly enough, and normally you were very thankful for that. It was all a part of the classy environment your boss had curated, and it meant you felt safe. But you couldn't deny how giddy it made you to see this playing out in front of you, mere feet from where you danced.

You danced the rest of the number focused, determined not to drop your professionalism for too long, the crowd erupting in cheer as you all finished. Clasping hands down the line, you took one giant bow, spinning and running off stage as the number ended.

"Lina needs help y'all!" Ilya called as you ran through the wings, and immediately you headed down the short hallway to the back of the bar, bursting through to find her. Stacked along the bar were multiple trays of drinks; a line was forming, and your head bartender looked the tiniest bit stressed. Sweat dripped form her brow, and she wiped it away quickly with her hand, punching something into the computer before whipping around to take another order.

"Oh, good, please take those out!" she said when she saw you and Tina, pointing to the trays of drinks in front of you. "The beers are for table four, the cocktails table seven!"

In an instant you grabbed the tray in front of you, sliding past Tina as carefully and quickly as possible. This was sometimes your favorite moments of the evening, when in the adrenaline of post-performance you had to run out drinks to an excited table, who'd marvel over your performance and ask you every question they could think of. As you started weaving through the room, several iterations of 'great job!' and 'amazing, just amazing!' were thrown your way, making your smile so wide it nearly stretched off your face. You barely payed attention to the drinks in your hand, only to make sure they didn't spill, as you nodded in thanks to the compliments, smiling at the half-lit faces around you.

It wasn't until you stopped, stood close to the wall to let another server past, that you realized which tray you'd grabbed. Both table four and seven sat on the far side of the room opposite the bar, and in the chaos of the moment you'd just headed this way, not bothering to actually take note. Now, you did; eight beers sat on the tray balanced on your hand, all identical dark ales. You shot a look to your side at Tina's tray, littered with pink and blue and clear cocktails, fun decorations sticking out the top of them all. Your's was meant for table four, for those businessmen Sasha had spotted, the one's you'd just performed mere feet from.

It shouldn't have worried you, but you couldn't help remembering it now. The only time you'd felt uncomfortable at work had been when serving a giant table full of just men, when one of them had said things severely over the line with you, just to make his friends laugh. It'd only ever happened that once, but the feeling was humiliating enough to have stuck with you, your mind whirring a bit as you made you way towards the crowded table. You decided you'd set the tray down by the man eyeing Sasha; maybe you could subtly hint at her interest, though you had no idea what you'd say. But as soon as you entered their proximity and reached between two of them to set down the tray, a man across the table spoke to you.

"I love that song!" he said, and you looked up to find a sweet, bright smile and deep dimples staring back at you.

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, giving him a genuine smile back, your mind immediately put at ease. You started placing the beers around, one in front of each man, careful to avoid the plates of food already littering the table.

"Do you know the significance of the Kalyna plant in Ukraine?" the same man asked, and your head snapped to him, eyes slightly wide.

"Yeah, that's why I chose to make that number," you said before you could think, so shocked that someone here knew anything about the song you'd spent long hours researching months ago.

"You choreographed that?" he asked, his eyes going wide a bit too.

"Oh, yeah," you said, slightly embarrassed that you'd just openly admitted that. It wasn't something you tended to do, when making light chatter with customers. You grabbed the last beer, which was for him, and made your way around the table to set it down in front of him. "It's just such a great song, easy to choreograph to," you added, trying to make yourself sound less conceited, less interested in talking about yourself.

"It is great, haven't heard it in years," he responded, taking the beer from your hand as you moved to set it down.

"You've heard it before?" you asked, genuine shock in your tone. The band was not one very popular here; not a single person you knew had heard of them, and no one in the months you'd been performing it had mentioned knowing anything about the song.

"Yeah, my freshman roommate in college was from Ukraine and he played a lot of their music. He's a drag queen, I would go to his shows a lot. He actually did a routine to that song, too, for a while," he responded, turning in his seat a bit to better face you. By this point the rest of the table had fallen into another conversation; it seemed none of the rest of them had heard of the song before, or cared to learn much about it. Kind of made them seem like shitty friends, to you. But you were thankful for it, because all of the sudden it felt like you and this gorgeous man were all alone, your back against the west wall of the seating area, Sasha's voice booming through the speakers around you.

"Next time he's visiting I'll be sure to take him here, he'd love it," he added, taking a swig of his beer.

"Well we might not be performing that number anymore, depending on when he's coming. Our numbers are put on a rotation, and this one's overstayed it's welcome already. Though it's still quite popular, we might be able to perform it a while longer," you said, words coming easily, the normal walls you kept high when talking to customers nowhere to be found.

"That's too bad, I hope you get to keep it for a while. It's fucking great, you're a real genius," he said, looking up at you again with those perfect dimples.

"Thanks," you said, blushing, the smirk he was sending your way bringing sudden heat to your face. You'd had time now to take him in; his hair was black, short at the sides and longer on top, his suit black to match it. His skin was honey, smooth as can be, and his face was pure perfection, pouty lips and a perfect nose, a strong jaw, strong eyebrows. He was very masculine, but very pretty too, so stunning you couldn't believe your eyes. And his wire framed glasses held his look together perfectly; he looked sharp, smart, and confident. He looked the way you were pretty sure every man wished he looked in a suit.

"I don't usually say stuff like this, but, when are you free tonight? We're all headed to a huge party up in the East Heights after this, if you'd like to come. There's gonna be an open bar, a pool, it's supposed to be pretty crazy," he said, taking another quick sip of his beer, his face pure and calm as he said it.

'I don't usually say stuff like this' my ass, you thought. The words had flown off his tongue too easily for that to be believable. But it was working on you, his confidence. You'd experienced too many instances of vague flirting, of indirectness, of shaky voices and shakier hands. You'd dreamt of a moment like this, when someone saw you and liked what they saw, liked it enough to ask you out then and there with no hesitation.

"Uh, I get off at 12:30, when the bar closes," you answered him, words falling out of your mouth without intention. "I- uh- I'll need to think about it though. I wouldn't be comfortable coming by myself, would I be able to bring some friends?"

"Yeah, bring whoever you'd like. It's a big event, a few extra bodies should be no big deal," he responded, smirk turning to a full on smile. His teeth were perfect, god he was perfect, and you got lost in his face for a few seconds, resting your hip against the wall behind you, your lower lip grasped between your teeth.

"I'm San, by the way," he said, reaching out his free hand in your direction.

"Oh, yeah, I'm y/n," you replied, placing your hand in his. His handshake was strong, hand warm around yours, your fingers nearly disappearing in his palm.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding onto your hand for a second longer than needed, gently releasing it and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Nice to meet you too," you said awkwardly, eyes darting around the room. "I should probably get back to work, it was nice chatting with you," you said, finally walking around the table to grab the tray and bring it back to the bar.

"We'll be here till closing, so just let me know then if you'd like to come," he said, nodding in your direction as you started to turn.

"Okay, thanks," you said, smiling over your shoulder, before walking off hurriedly between tables, suddenly worried sick that you'd be in trouble for talking to him for too long.

"Titi, you still wanna go out tonight?" you asked as you rushed back into the locker room, two slices of sweet bread you stole from the kitchen in your hands.

"Yeah, you actually wanna?" she said excitedly, reaching forward to grab one of them from you.

"I just got invited to a party in the Easy Heights," you said, a bewildered look gracing your features.

"Hello? What?" she responded, her mouth open in a comical O.

"I don't even know, but yeah, apparently some big party is happening at a house up there? He said it will have an open bar and pool?" you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the words coming out of you.

"Who said this?" she asked, mouth full as she chowed down.

"He said his name is San, he's in that group at table four," you responded.

"Oh my god, Sasha was just telling me she was making eyes at one of those men," Tina laughed, a hand coming to your shoulder.

"Yeah, I saw that while we were performing Kalyna," you said, giggling too.

"You sure you wanna go to an East Heights party? There's definitely gonna be like coke and shit, probably worse. It might be crazy," she said, head tilting to the side.

"If it's awful we can just leave, but I kinda feel like going. I doubt we'll ever be invited to one of those again," you laughed, giving her an assured smile. "I kind of want to see what tomfoolery those rich assholes get up to."

"So this isn't about hanging out with that man?" she asked.

"He seems cool, but I think he might be gay," you said to her, crossing your arms.

"Um, why?"

"He said his roommate in college was a drag queen, and that he went to his shows a lot. And he talked to me way too confidently to be into me. If he's not gay, then he's definitely not interested," you said, shrugging.

"Babe, he invited you to a party with him, barely knowing you. He definitely finds you attractive," she said, giving you that look she does when she thinks you're being just a bit dumb.

"Okay, but, well-" you cut yourself off, holding your hands out in a gesture of pity. You were dumb when it came to this relationship stuff, downright stupid. You knew that, as frustrating as it was. You wanted to be confident in your suspicion he was into you, but you'd been wrong enough times when you were younger about this sort of thing to assume it now. You'd been made fun of countlessly in high school, person after person laughing at the mere thought that they'd be into you. You were always baffled; you'd been told by some other person that this person had a crush on you, and were only asking them about it because of that information. They were pranks, and it took you embarrassingly long to figure that out. You understood that now, you recognized it had just been childish bullying; but still, even years later, you doubted any instance of even a suggestion that someone found you attractive.

You were different back then; you'd changed so much in the few years you'd lived away from home. But still, you doubted yourself. Maybe you had a complex about being undesirable, but who didn't? And frankly, when you looked around the world, it seemed like more of the "ugly" people had partners than not. It must be more about personality, you reasoned, which made your undesirability all the more painful. A silly, sick side of you began to feel attached to being single, began to feel better than other people for it, even your ride or die perfect friend standing in front of you. You didn't need romantic love like everyone else did, you decided; you had your art to give you passion, your friends to give you companionship. And you could physically satisfy yourself just fine. It was all projection; it was how you coped. How else could you deal with the pain of never being loved, lusted after, wanted the way all of your friends had since puberty?

But even as attached to your single identity as you were, you'd perused the apps last year, a tiny buried part of you wishing and hoping that there was someone out there for you, perfect in every way. It had been a bust, as expected. You felt like a fool for even trying. You had hoped that it would give you at least a little self-esteem, even if no relationship came of it. But it had only driven that painful truth of your undesirable personality deeper into your heart, cracking it further.

"I don't even want a relationship right now, Ti, I've said that for like the past three months," you said, pulling your hands back to your chest. You felt your heart thumping there, trying desperately to come alive despite the year of terror you'd put it through.

"It doesn't have to be a relationship, you could just hook up with him, you know, have a little fun," she answered you, grabbing your hands in hers. "Let's go, let's have some fun. Just relax, spend the evening enjoying ourselves." You hadn't seen her so excited all winter; her moods were severely affected by this season, and it always felt like a part of her left you for the cold months. It made a complex mix of sadness and excitement swirl through you, staring back at her perfect face. There was no way you'd be saying no to her now, despite anything.

"Okay, fine," you sighed, pulling her into a tight hug.

It took little convincing for Sasha and Bibi to join you, and soon the four of you plus Maya were standing on the sidewalk outside, stuck like a barnacle to the side of San's huge group. You were all waiting on two limos, according to him; when he's said this the five of you looked between yourselves with huge wide eyes, grabbing each other's arms and trying desperately not to laugh.

"You realize none of us have ever been to the East Heights, right?" you said to him, the soft arm of his suit jacket brushing up against the exposed skin of your own upper arm.

"That's fine, I've only been once. It's nothing that crazy, the houses are just big," he said, looking down at you, his shoulders intimidatingly broad now that he was standing beside you.

"I thought you said this party is gonna be crazy though," you replied, squinting your eyes playfully.

"Well, it's possible. I don't really know," he responded.

"So you just said that to say it earlier?" you questioned him, head cocked to the side.

"I was trying to make my offer sound enticing," he replied, looking you up and down, that smirk back on his face.

"So you lied to me?" you shot back.

"Hey, like I said, I don't know much about this thing, it could very well be crazy," he responded, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Wow, what have I gotten us into," you said, turning to the group, all of whom were suppressing their laughter at the interaction unfolding in front of them.

"The best night of your life," he answered, nudging your shoulder in a way that almost could have been accidental, making your eyes snap back to his again.

"I hope that wasn't a lie," you said, eyeing him sharply.

"I'll make sure of it," he shot back, one eyebrow raised slightly.

A titter sounded behind you, Tina unable to keep her composure at the ridiculous bickering unfurling between you. Your eyes were locked on each other, faces closer than either of you realized. It was so damn obvious to all of your friends, then, what was about to happen. The two of you couldn't hide it for a second, how affect you were. You were still locked in eye contact when the first limo pulled up, the rest of San's group filing in, waving him goodbye.

"You can go with your friends if you'd like," you said as he closed the door, stepping back.

"Oh they're not really my friends, just guys I know through work. This whole thing tonight is a networking opportunity, what fun," he joked sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Oh wow," you said, eyes glued to the limo as it pulled away. "People network at one in the morning?"

"Us tech bros do I guess, we just love it," he said, laughing sarcastically again. "I don't really like this stuff, but my manager is making me go. He gave me Monday off, so, I can't really complain."

"Wow, you have like a normal job," you said, laughing.

"And you don't?" he asked.

"I just mean, you work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I literally don't know a single other person who does. My mom is a doula, and my twin sister is a nurse, and my dad has early-onset Parkinson's so he's been on disability almost my whole life. And the rest of my friends work here, or work at other bars or restaurants around here. Even my best friend from high school works in a library at her university, but she works weekends and nights."

It all came stumbling out of you so fast, your hand shot up to your mouth.

"Sorry, that was crazy. Just forget all that shit about my dad..." you trailed off, eyes wide with worry as they met his.

"What shit about your dad?" he answered, and your expression immediately changed to one of relief, one of laughter. Just then the second limo pulled up to the curb, and the five of you excitedly gathered by the door, San opening it for you.

"Ladies," he said, bowing his head slightly and beckoning you all to step inside.

"None of us have ever been in a limo either," you told him, chuckling as your friends excitedly squealed while carefully entering the sleek black car.

"Uh, I have, speak for yourself miss thing," Bibi said as she crouched down, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

"Well damn, I guess one of us has," you said to San as you finally stepped inside, his body following quickly after you, rich laughter ringing in your ear.

San, it turned out, was most definitely not gay. Which of course, deep down, you'd already known. You'd known it from the moment he asked you to go to that party with him, from the moment he smirked and your body sizzled under his glare. But he was so different from anyone you'd dated before; too kind, too upfront, too knowledgeable about musicals and theater and all the things you loved so very much. It almost pained you to find out he'd been studying theater in college before switching to computer science. That was why he'd been paired with his freshman roommate; at the time, they'd had the same major. That roommate, Antin, became one of his best friends; the two bonded over coming from overseas, the pressure their parents put on them even thousands of miles away. It was so sweet, so charming, and in the two hours you spent at that raucous party, you learned what seemed like all there was to know about him.

He was too perfect; it was too easy to say yes when he'd asked if you wanted to see his apartment, too easy to bid your friends goodnight as your Uber pulled up in front of their places. You thought of nothing but the hunk beside you, about what he'd look like with that suit strewn on the ground. You tried not to jump his bones the second you were alone, but damn was it hard; as soon as you arrived he'd taken your purse, and placed it in the front closet of his apartment. His apartment was huge, his front closet bigger than the bathroom you shared with three other roommates; it was fancy too, well kept, stacks of books and DVDs in the living room, only two dirty dishes in the bottom of his kitchen sink.

It was all simply too good to be true, and in that moment nothing felt real. You were present, sure, but you felt like you'd been knocked into an alternative timeline, getting to live out the life of someone far better than you, who deserved all this.

"Aren't you hot in that suit?" you asked him, your loose minidress hanging free, your body unburdened with extra fabric. You always kept a few random clothes at work in case you needed to change suddenly, and even though it was the last day of January, this tiny dress had been a great option. Outside you'd thrown a large old flannel of your dad's over it, but at the party you'd tied it around your waist, the mass of bodies creating more heat than you could bear.

"Yeah, I was sweating all night," he laughed, slowly and methodically pulling off his suit jacket, finally revealing the shape of his shoulders to you. Under his white button-up they bulged; you did all you could to stop yourself from just staring, especially as he loosened his tie and finally pulled from his head, setting it down on the small table just inside his front door.

"You can put your shoes in there, if you'd like. Oh and your shirt, here, let me hang it up," he said, reaching for the flannel still tied around your waist. His touch was electric as soon as his hands made contact; even through the material of your dress you felt the spark, your body shivering. It only lasted a second, his nature too respectful to make anything more of a moment like that, especially after what you'd said at the party to him not twenty minutes ago. You wished you could have frozen time, wished every little detail of this night could be burned into your memory forever. It would be hard to believe then that you'd forget a lot of it in just a year, that somehow so much would happen that this one night would come to feel almost insignificant.

"Can I make you some hot cocoa, or tea, coffee?" he asked as he walked towards his kitchen, pouring you both glasses of water.

"Some herbal tea sounds nice, if you have any," you answered, and he opened his pantry to reveal a small collection. You picked out the lavender mix that sounded refreshing, placing the purple tea bag in a black mug he'd set down on the counter. As he set his tea kettle to boil, you hopped up on the counter beside him, bare feet swinging in air.

"So, you think that was the best night of my life?" you quipped, looking sideways at him as he set the kettle to temperature.

"Night's not over," he responded, eyebrows flicking up in amusement.

You were squirming under his gaze, your face now level with his. His shirt and pants fit him immaculately; you were so obviously ogling him, your thighs rubbing together as you did, your eyelids heavy with lust. He could feel it pouring off of you, but he kept replaying what you'd said, and kept trying to keep his composure, because he really wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who slept with the girl right away; he had known too many of those guys at college, seen too many of them back home too, when he visited his brother in the fall. He found the hookup culture he was surrounded by almost unnerving. He'd been raised with integrity, with respect; and being here in a new country had challenged his beliefs, for sure, but not when it came to sex or romance.

But you were determined. Your body had a mind of its own, and this whole night had felt surreal for hours now. Your own, already loose morals were thrown out the window, and you didn't give a fuck. You wanted him now, forget whatever the hell you'd said earlier; you didn't even remember it anymore, too filled with arousal to think straight.

You grabbed onto his arm closest to you, pulling him in.

"Hey, I thought you said-"

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face towards yours, leaning back slightly to arch into him. It was feverish as your lips met, mouths open, your legs already shaking as you wrapped them around his waist. It didn't take long for his hands to find your hips, your waist; he dug in, feeling the softness of you, softness he wanted to be wrapped in forever. He'd kept his composure the whole way here, not putting a hand on your thigh in the Uber, not a hand on your back as you walked through his front door. But now, it had left him; just five seconds of you in his grasp, and he knew he could never let go. His tongue swiped into your mouth, sucking hard on your lower lip, and without thinking he was reaching under your dress, feeling over the bare expanse of skin.

You hadn't worn a bra or panties tonight. He could tell about the bra, from the way your dress caught on your chest, but the panties were a surprise, making his head fuzzy as he reached down to your ass and found it bare for him. Your hands now were desperately grabbing at his over-shirt, trying in vain to undo each pesky button as you kept kissing him, your hands stumbling and failing over and over. Finally, he reached up and just ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and falling onto the floor in a soft rattle. He flung it off his arms, his tight under shirt leaving nothing anymore to your imagination. His abs rippled underneath it; you'd never seen abs like that in person before, weren't sure that they even existed. Especially not on a man who worked in tech, whose face was prettier than a porcelain doll's.

He came back to you, breathing hard; you grabbed at his abdomen, his shoulders, his chest, desperate to feel all of the perfection in front of you. You could smell the sweat on him now, musky and rich notes hitting your nose and making your body heat even more. He moved his mouth to your neck, your ear, making you whine and squirm with pleasure, sharp sparklers of energy running down the entirety of your body. You were pulling at him, desperately, forgetting any sense of where you were, or what you'd planned for tonight. As he licked a stripe up your collar bone you squealed loudly, the feeling ticklish and pleasurable all the same, and you jerked away from him momentarily, falling into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly there was a crash; the mug next to you was sent flying to the floor by your hip, and now it's pieces spread out across the grey tile, littering it in shards.

"Fuck, sorry," you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your open mouth. You were expecting maybe a light chuckle, maybe a shocked noise, for San to want to clean this up right away before you two got to whatever you were doing; instead he laughed deeply, his bright, wide smile back on his face, dimples staring you in the face for the probably thousandth time that night. He looked down to each side of his feet, sighing ever so slightly, before moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes thoughtful.

"Fuck it," he laughed with a shake of his head, grabbing you again, his hand on the back of your neck, soft lips wrapped around your own. You giggled into his mouth, so overcome by the chaotic set of events; but it only took a moment of his lips on yours again for you to melt, your legs around him, your breathing hot and heavy as he grabbed at your dress, pulling it up at the front to reveal your bare crotch to the room, running two of his fingers down your slit to see how wet you were.

"Fuck, San," you gasped, feeling how easily his slippery fingers moved, his movement unexpected.

"You want this, right?" he asked you, voice husky and deep. His eyes were boring into yours, and his look was dark and intense. It made you shiver to look back at him, and a part of you wanted to look away, to not feel the complex string of emotions tumbling through you. It almost felt like dread; dread laced with beauty, laced with desire and sweetness and everything addictive, and you just couldn't bring the rest of yourself to look away.

"Yes, please," you responded, pushing your hips down onto his hand, grinding onto his fingers. "Please fuck me, San."

You'd never said anything like this in your life; you'd only imagined it, or read it. As cheesy as it could feel on the page, in that moment it felt consumingly empowering, downright sexy. You pulled at his belt in front of you, your mouths meeting again, his teeth scraping over your upper lip as he nearly devoured you. Once again, you struggled with undoing his clothing; he moved his hands away from you to unclasp it himself, pulling it hard and tossing it to the ground when he had. Your hands were around his chin, holding his face to you as you messily kept kissing, his hands now working on the button and zipper of his jeans. In a matter of moments he'd pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and held it in his hand, hungrily eyeing your flushed cunt in front of him.

"Let me get a condom," he huffed, clearly having to work at pulling his eyes away from you.

"No, I have an implant," you said, pointing to your left arm. You saw his eyes twitch to side for a moment, like his brain was struggling to process what you'd just said. "It's fine, I can't get pregnant," you added, in case he didn't know what the hell you were trying to say. It took another few moments for him to accept it; but once he did he moved his cock closer to your aching entrance, and rubbed it along your slit where his fingers had been just seconds ago.

"Fuck," you sighed, head hitting his shoulder as he leaned into you, as he spread your wetness over his tip. Your closed eyes cloaked you in almost darkness, only the soft light in the kitchen illuminating the room, and all you could feel was your throbbing cunt and San's movements, already whimpering and moaning in his ear. He lined himself up carefully, pulling your hips to the very edge of the counter to give him room, and slowly sank halfway down.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, the stretch not at all what you expected. He was far bigger than any man you'd ever been with; it almost hurt, and you'd never experienced this before, so you had no idea if this was a hurt that would subside, or a hurt that would grow and fester. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as he slowly pulled out of you again, thrusting back in just slightly deeper, his movements slow and controlled.

"Ahhh, shit," you whined again, grip on his shoulders even tighter.

"I need you to relax for me," he said in your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending tremors of pleasure through you.

"I'm trying," you squeaked out, face stuck in his neck as you tried to breath slowly.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, stilling his movements completely, holding onto your lower back for support.

"No, please don't stop," you whispered, finally finding some control of your breath. "Just give me a second."

San obliged, kissing the top of your head as he ran a comforting hand down your back. You continued to breathe deep, continued to take in his scent, and in a few short moments you felt the walls of your cunt finally release a bit, allowing you to rock yourself against him without pain.

"Okay, I'm ready," you said, bracing yourself, and a moment later you felt him push himself in further, finally bottoming out. You both let out a guttural groan; it felt like you'd discovered new parts of yourselves in that moment, like your bodies were made for each other, made to pleasure each other just the way you needed.

"Fuck, y/n," San moaned your name, your walls tight around him as he pulled back again, thrusting short and soft at first. Hearing your name roll of his tongue made your chest swell; it was far to intense, all of these emotions you were having, for you to utter a thing. Soon he was thrusting faster, setting a steady pace as he held firm onto your hips, his mouth on your neck leaving bruising bites that you'd have to deal with tomorrow. You were breathing ragged, an eruption of feelings so perfect coming from your core that you couldn't quite believe it.

Then it happened; he picked you up by your hips, holding you dead in the air, still thrusting into you. If anything his thrusts were harder, deeper now; the position had given him space, and he used every bit of it, his thrusts becoming longer, harder, his cock nearly falling out of you when he pulled out. Your moans turned to screams; you were no longer aware at all of what sounds you were making, so overcome with the severe intensity of the feelings in your core.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you started babbling, breathing desperately, your hands again grasping at his shoulders.

"What?" he asked between grunts, a chuckle following.

"I didn't- fuck- think this was po-ossible," you stuttered, his thrusts not letting up, the feeling so intense it almost was zapping you back into the moment again, reversing the drifting that your mind had started to do. This felt real; felt too real, too intense. You swore you could feel every vein in his shaft, feel the exact shape of his head. Your orgasm was building, fast, and you'd never come just from penetration.

"Now you know, baby," he chuckled again, not letting up. Soon you were clenching hard, the rippling feelings of your climax building to their peak, your legs around his hips, squeezing him.

"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, biting down on the top of his shoulder, shaking hard.

"Did you come?" he asked, still thrusting hard, wanting you to ride it out as much as you could.

"Yes," you almost sobbed, drool dripping down onto his bare skin. "Slow down," you whined, and he did, gradually slowing his movements until he'd stopped, placing a quick kiss on your neck and making you squeal again.

After that, the night was a blur. He took you again, on the couch, and you came so many times you couldn't keep track. He was flipping you around, holding up your legs; he seemed to know every perfect angle to make your cunt feel even better, and you gladly accepted every movement from him. When he finally came he dropped down between your legs, eating you out as his cum dropped out of you, his face a flushed mess when he looked up to take a breath. You came again; finally, you begged him to stop. Your body was spent, you couldn't take anymore. When you looked at your phone it was nearly six in the morning, and when you ventured a look over to his kitchen window you recognized the first signs of winter dawn, the sky not as dark as it had been.

He made you stay put, cleaning you up in a fluffy towel, picking you up to carry you to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress; then his own clothes came off entirely, and you ogled him all over again, as he scolded you and told you to get some much needed sleep. Wrapped around him your cunt seemed to stay permanently wet; you thought there was no way you'd fall asleep, but it was late, even for you. Soon you were both out cold, San's blackout curtains tricking your bodies. It wasn't until nearly three that afternoon that you woke.

"You stay, I'll go make us some food," San yawned, kissing your forehead, your face smushed in his chest.

"Are you sure?" you pouted, looking up at him. Even with his curtains open the sky outside was dark; what time it was now, you had no idea. After you awoke and showered, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Another slew of hours had flown by, and your pussy was aching, begging you to give her a break. You couldn't help how fucking good it felt, though. You wanted it to never end. You were sure you could be satisfied with your life if all you ever did from now on was fuck him.

"Oh god, don't give me that look," he groaned, turning his head away. You laughed, tugging yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. "I thought you said you were hungry," he said, arms around you too.

"I am," you answered, snuggling into him.

"Well I can't make you food if you're laying on top of me," he responded, squeezing the tops of your thighs.

"I think you're definitely strong enough to carry me around," you said, giggling.

"Oh, is that what you want? You done with walking?" he joked, pinching your thigh.

"Ah, hey!" you squealed, jerking off of him, trying to reach for his ribs to tickle him in retaliation. But just then your stomach rumbled, so loud you both could hear.

"Come on, let me make food. What do you want?" he asked, sitting himself up.

"Do you have eggs?" you said, and he nodded. "Can you make just some toast and scrambled eggs?"

"Of course, anything else?" he responded, standing up off the bed. The naked form of him in front of you was so distracting, especially in the hazy light coming in from outside, the evening street lights shining in through San's huge window. You took a mental screenshot; no one else could ever look this good, you thought, in such low light. It accentuated every nook and cranny of his body; he was so perfectly built, every little part. It was hard not to stare at the curve of his ass as he threw on some sweats, or the muscles of his back as he stretched his arms.

"No, I just have that for breakfast every day. I like simple food," you said, yawning again and sitting yourself up.

"Me too," he smiled, looking back at you for a moment before exiting the room, clinks sounding from the kitchen as he started preparing.

It took you some time to finally get yourself up; your body was wracked with exhaustion, but you'd never felt better. You felt on a permanent high around him; you grabbed your crumpled dress from the floor and slipped it over yourself, finally walking out to the living room to check your phone, which was probably dead. As you came out you saw San on the floor cleaning, the remnants of that poor mug swept into a pile at the corner of his kitchen.

"Oh shit, let me help you with that," you said, making your way over, but San stopped you.

"No, don't walk over here, you'll cut your feet. I'll take care of it, it's no biggie." You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, but already this dynamic felt comfortable. If he really was fine with it, then you were fine letting him deal with the mess you'd made. You turned on your heel and walked over the couch, grabbing your phone off the coffee table, checking the time.

|6:14 pm|

You saw a slew of texts, but your battery was at ten percent, so you ran to your purse to grab your charging cable, plugging it in.

{Titi}

|3:43pm| how was your night bestie?? |5:58pm| please tell me you didn't get kidnapped |6:14pm| fuck sorry, I hadn't looked at my phone till now |6:14pm| I am alive and well

|6:15pm| oh thank god, we were worried |6:15pm| nothing to be worried about 😌 |6:16pm| so how'd it go?? |6:16pm| girl, we fucked for like three hours last night 😭 |6:16pm| HELLO |6:16pm| are you okay??? 😭 |6:17pm| Maya just said you're putting us lesbians to shame 💀 |6:17pm| 💀💀 |6:17pm| we fucked for like three hours this morning too |6:17pm| GIRL |6:17pm| RIP to your vagina |6:18pm| she's never been happier 😭

|6:18pm| this is so crazy |6:18pm| you home now? |6:18pm| I KNOW |6:18pm| no I'm still here, he's making some food for us

|6:18pm| wow |6:18pm| just wow, idk what else to say 😭 |6:19pm| girl same |6:19pm| you busy tomorrow? |6:19pm| no, why? |6:19pm| I'll bring over some dinner at seven, I have so much to tell you |6:19pm| I can't wait 💕

Present

It was nearly noon, when you woke. Slowly your consciousness came back to you; at first you only felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you, and you knew for sure you weren't in your bed, nor on your friend's couch like you'd planned. You were in the place you'd ended up so many times this month; maybe close to twenty of the nights of January you'd spent here. Thinking of it pulled at you. You knew this was a mistake, ending up here, knew something terrible would come of this. But you hadn't had the will this morning to stop it. You woke grumpy, worried, with the events of the morning spiraling through your head, especially Tina's flushed face of agony and the guttural sounds she made as she threw up.

You were worried, as much as she told you not to be. You'd never seen her like this in the five years you'd known her. As soon as your eyes melted open you were reaching for your phone on the night stand, finding it plugged in to San's charger, a glass of water there too.

You shot off a quick text to your group chat with Tina and Maya. How are y'all feeling? You didn't want to smother them with your worry, so you kept it as casual as you could, sipping at the water beside you and scrolling mindlessly through the other notifications littering your screen. There would be no convincing Tina to go get checked out; you had to accept it, had to welcome the fact that it'd be you and Maya keeping her well. She mistrusted doctors, on top of the unneeded expense, and you completely understood why; with the experiences she'd had, there would be no reason to give them a second chance. But she'd always had a stomach of steel; to see her so unwell was unnerving you, tremendously.

Finally you pushed yourself up; your stomach was rumbling, your head still aching with exhaustion, but the feeling was duller than this morning. The sleep you'd just woken from had been helpful, no doubt, but you wished you felt a little more normal today, instead of sleep deprived and emotionally unsteady. You had important work to do; you needed to head home fast, needed to not get distracted by San like you always did. You couldn't afford to spend the rest of the afternoon here eating and watching a musical, forcing him to recreate it with you. You had a musical of your own to edit.

"Hey," he said when you poked your head out of his room, walking gingerly over to him in the kitchen. He was preparing some lunch for himself; a block of tofu lay resting on the counter, as San chopped peppers and onions and broccoli. The smells of ginger and garlic already wafted from the pan, and San stood shirtless, in just grey sweat pants as he cooked, looking like someone out of any person's dreams.

"Hey," you responded, sighing. His body was alight with energy; he must have hit the gym while you were sleeping, which always left him feeling perky and bright. It was wafting off of him, this positive energy, and it couldn't have conflicted more with the heavy stress coursing through you. It was abundant in your tone; you'd gotten less and less good at hiding it from him, how you felt. Especially this last month.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked you, tossing the onions and peppers into his pan before stirring them with a spatula.

"I can make it," you mumbled, crossing past him to the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf.

"Let me do it, I know you're exhausted," he said, coming over to you to grab the carton from your hands.

"No, I want to," you sighed, holding it to your side and out of his reach, a grumpy frown on your face.

"Okay, if you insist," he responded, palms up. Your terrible mood was worrying him deeply, but he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that this afternoon was in fact the time to finally do it. He'd been at the gym almost two hours, pumping himself up, doing every exercise he could think of to distract himself from the dread that was slowly filling him. It was like sand in an hour glass, falling slowly enough that he could forget it if he tried. Which he'd successfully done all morning, until your tired form appeared from his bedroom door.

You started preparing your food in silence, the sizzling of San's stir fry and clinking of dishes the only sounds in the room. You were thankful you'd be leaving him in a good mood; it was always hard to leave when he was sad, or grumpy, because every single part of you needed to make him feel better, needed a happy look on his face for you to feel okay. There was no doubt he was meal prepping for the week, given the amount of food he was making, and you sighed in hoping that the future days were on his mind now, instead of the past few.

"I realized something this morning," he said out of nowhere, tossing in his chopped tofu. Your eggs had just finished, so you turned off the burner, plopped them onto your plate, and grabbed your two slices of bread from the toaster, carefully spreading on the perfect amount of butter.

"What's that?" you asked, mind still elsewhere, running in circles and figure eights.

"We met exactly one year ago, today," he said, voice bright and breathy.

"Oh shit, really?" you asked, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer, then shoving a piece of toast in your mouth.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" he responded, voice lilting a bit. You mindlessly stuffed some eggs in your mouth, savoring the flavor of the local organic eggs that San always had in stock.

"Yeah, I just didn't realize it was that da-" you cut yourself off when you saw his face, his eyes glassy and jaw set. "Sannie, oh my god, don't cry. I'm not that special," you said, almost scoffing at the emotion coming off of him.

"Yes you are," he said, turning back to the pan on the stove, wiping something that must have been a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm really not," you responded, walking back towards his bedroom to find your phone again, which you'd accidentally left behind. Inside his room you could hear him speak from the kitchen, but you couldn't make out the words. You were distracted by the text you'd received from Maya, i'm doing even better, but Titi is still pretty bad. the Tylenol and everything has been so helpful though. and whatever those anti-nausea meds were, please thank San for me. she's able to keep down fluids now.

I'm glad to hear that. I hope she keeps getting better. She looked awful this morning, you responded, typing it out with your right thumb as your left hand balanced your plate of food.

"You gonna eat in here?" San asked from the doorway, and you snapped your head around to meet his gaze.

"No, sorry, just checking my phone. I had texted Maya asking how they were doing," you responded, mouth in a tight line.

"How's Tina?" he asked.

"Fine, it sounds like. Maya said to thank you for all the stuff you got them," you said.

"It's no biggie. I'm glad it's helping," he said, eyes blinking and face neutral. No biggie, the words made you want to roll your eyes. It was always 'no big deal' to him to do so much, and you'd started to realize that those words were total fucking bullshit. 'No biggie' was seemingly just a favorite English phrase of his, one that made him sound selfless and kind in the way he wanted to be. But you could see the flash of irritation in his eyes, you knew damn well that he was upset that you'd called this morning and made him feel obligated to come and help. He'd wanted your thanks for doing so, which you could recognize was fair. But he also should have said no, if he really didn't want to do it. You couldn't help the fact that he'd been lax with you since the start; one year now, as he'd just reminded you, of you pushing his boundaries and him relenting, and somehow he was still frustrated every time it happened. Like he didn't realize this was just how things were.

You waited till he turned around to point your eyes to the ceiling, a long deep sigh matching the movements of your eyes. You just had to eat and get out of here, one simple task. Then you could be home and worrying about the work ahead of you, or you could be on the phone to Tina and checking on her. You couldn't wait for the relief of hearing her voice.

"Did you hear what I said earlier?" San asked as you walked out of his room, sitting yourself down on his couch to finish your food.

"I don't know, what did you say?" you asked, placing your phone face down next to you.

"I asked if you remembered what you said to me that night we met, right before we came here?" he said, his own bowl of food in hand as he sat down a few feet from you.

"I don't think I do," you responded, sighing as you took another huge bite.

"Really?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes really, San, was it something I should remember?" you asked.

"It's just kind of funny, given what happened next," he said, taking a bite of his stir fry. You gave him a confused look, head cocking to the side. "You said, 'sure I'll come to your apartment, but I'm not fucking you'," he said, chuckling.

"I did not," you scoffed, shaking your head at the thought of it.

"You did, I swear," he continued, eyeing you. "Kind of crazy considering that's exactly what you did for the next forty-eight hours."

"Oh my god, shut up," you rolled your eyes, grabbing the throw pillow to your right and smacking his arm with it. He laughed and batted it away, careful to protect his food as you swung it recklessly. "Also, you say that as if I'm the only one involved in that activity, you ass. That was very much a 'it takes two to tango' situation, Sannie."

San laughed hard in response to that, his dimples popping and his chest rising and falling with each chuckle. He was satisfied to have brought out some humor in you; he knew that was the way he could get you to calm down, to feel a little better and be ready for everything he was about to launch into.

"Do you know that you're the only one other than my mom that I let call me Sannie?" he said, voice softer.

"No I didn't- wait, why?" you asked, suddenly really thinking about what he'd said.

"Uh- you just, I..." he looked at you with a confusing expression, face a mixture of what looked like shock and anticipation.

"Sannie is a special nickname only your mom uses for you?" you asked, tone harsher than he'd hoped.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking at you.

"Then why do you let me call you that?" you asked, placing your finished plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, then leaning back and crossing your legs and arms.

"Cause you're special to me," he said, resting the side of his head on his palm, eyeing you deeply now.

"San- I- I thought that was what everyone called you, I thought it was just your nickname. I wouldn't have started calling you that if I'd known it was a you and your mom thing. I'm not trying to be some replacement for her, or something," you stuttered, hands gesturing in front of your face to emphasize your point.

"Of course you're not a replacement for here, god, you're just special to me, can't you understand-"

"San, why would I be the only one who gets to use the special nickname? You have closer friends, a brother, other family you're close to, I'm just a girl you sleep with sometimes. I'm not the love of your life, or something, we're not married with a baby on the way, and now that we're a family unit of our own you're letting me use this special name for you. We're just friends, why didn't you tell me!?" you snapped, cutting him off mid sentence without a care in the world.

"We're not just friends, y/n," he grumbled, face stony. "And I don't see what a big deal it is that I let you use that nickname. You're the one who started using it without even asking me if it was okay," he shot back, face and body completely still.

"Fuck you," you muttered, standing up and grabbing your plate, walking over to the sink to clean it. "I know you think everything bad between us is my fault; you probably somehow think that shit you pulled last night is my fault, too."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, I wanted to apologize-"

"Oh, you wanted to apologize for choking me? Slapping me? Practically raping me?" you turned around, staring at him with wide, petulant eyes.

"Oh god, please don't use that word," he sighed, his food long abandoned as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"Why, cause it's honest?" you shot back, rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I did that baby, I know it was wrong, it was so wrong, I'm just, please know I'm so fucking sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you..." he trailed off, mumbling, a deep sniffle cutting off his words. He was sobbing into his hands, his bare shoulders moving up and down as he heaved, trying with all his might to stop himself from completely breaking down. The sight of it immediately shot right through you; you started crying too, in an instant a huge deluge of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor below. It was so painful, whatever this feeling was; it was like the entire foundation of your body was cracking, like you were about to crumble in on yourself and die on the spot.

"Sannie, please, stop crying," you managed to say, haphazardly wiping the tears from your eyes. But they kept coming; they wouldn't stop until his stopped, you realized; there was something in you that was breaking with him, like your beratement of him was a boomerang, swinging back and hitting you too.

"I can't, I'm sorry," he squeaked, and you'd never heard his voice like that, never seen him break down so severely.

"Sannie, please," you cried, and suddenly your feet were rushing over to him, and you wrapped your hands around his folded torso, your tears now falling onto the smooth plane of his back. "Please, when you cry I cry, and I don't wanna fucking cry right now."

It made him cry harder, hearing the desperation in your tone; he tried with all his might to calm himself, to take some deep breaths. But he didn't have the strength; the exhaustion from this past month was really catching up with him, and that high he was riding from the gym this morning was long gone. There was nothing he could do now to stop this; he never cried like this, he was sure the last time was more than a decade ago. He had no idea how to put an end to it.

"I'm sorry I used that word, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you chocked out, breathing through your tears as best as you could, holding onto him for dear life. There were no words on his tongue; he couldn't think of anything now, couldn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say to you, the conversation he'd worked himself up to all morning. Instead he was left with this terrible hollow hole in his chest; one you had created, one you filled, one that he feared more than anything. Your tears were the worst thing for him; the gash you'd carved only grew, deeper, wider, getting closer to the exact shape of you, and all he could do was sit himself up and grab you, wrapping you around him and holding you tight.

"You're not just my friend," he said, voice thin and weak with tears. "And right now I fucking hate you."

next part ->

Taglist: @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024 @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @completelyjae

@midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27

Thank you for reading and supporting me my loves! <3333

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[ami666]

warnings: secret relationship, oral, female receiving, getting almost caught

You were the little sister of John B. He was your protector since your dad disappeared on the sea. He was always strict, especially about you dating with guys. More specific his best friend JJ Maybank. Sure, he wasn't the happiest when your were hooking up with random boys on some parties but he eventually get used to this.

However dating with JJ was completely off limit. You two were flirting with each other since you were kids. He would always made compliments about you, call you by nicknames or grab your ponytail. Your brother was always sick of watching this so he made a rule of "no pogue on pogue macking". John B was pretty proud of himself after making that rule. He thought that no one in your group would end up together in the bed.

Well, you can say that he was right in some way because you weren't on the bed. You were pressed by your door with the blond boy between your thighs.

His mouth was working on your cunt. One leg was on his shoulder giving him better access. Your right hand was on his hair pulling him closer to you, and the left one was on the door handle because the lock was broken and you didn't want to get caught by your friends, or worse your brother.

You and JJ started to date a two months ago, but it wasn't so easy. You had to hide away from the pogues to avoid getting caught. You were always kissing and making love in the corners or in your room so only JJ was able to see you like this.

On the other hand, when you were out with your friends, you weren't good at hiding your feelings towards each other. The glances you were giving, the whole tension between you two was floating in the air by whole day. So when the sky was full of stars, you finally had the chance to express your fellings by telling sweet words, and confessing love. Well, sometimes it was other way around. It was more intimate. For example right now.

"Fuck JJ, I'm-" you couldn't finish your sentence and your started to buck your hips against his mouth. Your moans and screams filled the room.

"Such a good girl of mine" - He grinned against your pussy. "You like being fucked by my mouth, right Sunshine?" - JJ asked looking at you. "Would be a shame if any of our friends could hear your screaming"

"Mhm" you muttered because you couldn't form a proper word.

"Now, that's not what we doing sweetheart". He bucked away, causing you to grip his hair thighter. "You are a big girl and if I'm asking you a question you are answering with a full sentence is that clear?"

"Yes. That's clear." - Your toes starts to curl at the sign of dominating JJ.

"Good girl". That was his last words before he attached his lips to your clit. The loudest scream left your lips and you immediately bit your hand. Your boyfriend smirks by that action.

"Hey Y/N, is everything okay?" - You heard your brother voice on the other side of the door.

"Yes!" you screamed. JJ started to make circles on your clit,

"You know were JJ went"? Your brother asked. At that question he pushed his tongue inside your hole.

"mhhm"! - You tried to muffled your moans.

"Come on my tongue baby" JJ whispered to you. "You such a good girl taking me so well while talking to your brother" He spited on my clit making fast circles. "Wonder what he would do, if he knew that his little sister is being fucked by his best friend."

You started to losing your mind by those little comments made by him. You knew you won't last much longer.

"No idea" - You finally answered your brother. "Maybe he is at the dock, you should check". You said while pulling JJ hair to made him even closer to you.

"Yeah, sure." He didn't sound convinced. "So you should come to us, we are going to make a bonfire with Kie and Pope"

JJ laughed between your thighs, looking at your sweaty, red face. Eventually he got back to his work, attacking your clit with his tongue.

"Yeah, I'm gonna come!" - You closed your eyes felling that your orgasm is approaching. When you heard your brother foot steps moving away from your door you finally came on JJ tongue.

He got up and pecked your lips a few times. So sweet and innocent. "You are perfect baby, you handled it so well". He gave your jaw a kiss. And another, and another. One by one.

"I love you". He mumbled against your neck.

"I love you" You smiled at him while he was marking your skin. He eventually got back to his favourite place. Your lips, and he gave you the final kiss. "Come on Sunny, let's see if John B is going to kick my ass"

[sugurusladyknightt]

what i'm thinking of right now is what if someone tried hitting on you out while out on a date with your love.

satoru would've stepped away to grab the ice cream that had you waiting in a line for what you thought would feel like forever. it was fun though, the two of you pausing your initial conversation about the days plans in favour of people watching and listening in on the very scandalous conversations of those who stood with you in line. your eyes meeting in shock or surprise every so often, doing your best to disguise your laughs and gasps with charades of idle conversation and your own scandalous conversations referencing drama that, mind you doesn't really exist in your lives at the moment.

while he was a way your getting hit on by some creep. it didn't come off that way initially, but man was this getting uncomfortable fast. can this guy not take a hint? he's asking for your number once again and your refusing once again politely at first, and more stern as the advances keep coming. your not used to people that won't listen when you speak. since when did back off mean come closer? since when did i'm not interested become im just playing coy. since when did im taken, leave me alone translate to my relationship isn't real or isn't important to me and id throw it away for someone who doesn't understand basic boundaries and uses those suffocating, nauseating colognes?

drawing closer and closer to you. face far too close to yours, breathe stank too. yuck. he's gaining confidence now,convinced the 'boyfriend' you were talking about was an excuse you'd made up. your just nervous is all. playing hard to get.

panic starts to set into your bones. he's leaning back, all cocky now.

come on doll face, this 'boyfriend' of yours doesn't have to know. quit playing so high and mighty i know you want me.

you think you might throw up. when an ice cream cone hits him right in the centre of his face. comically sliding down his face. and satoru enters the scene. sun creating a halo around his fluffy white hair, your ho is glowing. signature classes sat pretty low on his nose his skin a little flushed from the heat (hence the ice cream) he's holding two more cones in his hands, walking towards you and and the offender, mock sympathy in his voice. as he expresses apologies that to just might seem sincere if your that stupid if you tried hard enough. grabbing the cone of his face to meet his eyes.

satoru has a incredibly towering stature, and while this wasn't news to you, it's quite impressive to see its advantages in real time.

peaking down at the face behind the sweet creamy mess, satoru recoils. "ew." his tone dripping with absolute disgust. turning around to make his "bleghh" face as he presses the now ice cream less cone into the man's hair. like a sad party hat above his head an sticks on of the other two, being careful to use the flavour he knows you like least, straight back into his face. massaging it around to cover as much of the monstrosity as possible before nodding proudly for his work. a pat on the make, and he's turing on his heel towards you with that blinding smile on his face.

dramatically, satoru drapes his hands over you shoulders, and leans his weight it, a pout on his strawberry glosses lips. "babyyyyy, the sight will haunt my night mares, scary people out there" he tuts standing straight with a satirical furrow between his brows. he should have been a theatre kid with all these dramatics. though you were greatful, and relived. he makes life feel so easy. it's contagious.

he looks down at you through his sunglasses small smile playing on his lips, face no longer contorted by an expression of discomfort or disgust.

satoru hands you the last cone. after all the two he got for him have served greater purpose than satisfying his sweet tooth. strong arm loosely hangs from you shoulder as you walk off leaving behind the cheap excuse of a man now covered in creamy deliciousness far too good him. your laughing at something satoru said as he glances back to see yhe newest addition to his hit list muttering to himself as he try's to get the ice cream of his over gelled greasy hair, fake designer top and horribly ugly face. satoru thinks he should just keep it as it was. ice cream was a far more pleasant sight. he looks back down at you eating away at your cone, there's a little caught at the corner of you lips.

smirking he leans down to lick it off, taking advantage of the angle of your head above his to make his eyes wide and pretty for you the same way he would when he was licking something else. your flustered, mouth open, paused mid sentence and your eyes wider than his now. wide eyes portraying his faux innocence drop to a sultry lidded gaze leaning in to kiss away another but in the other side. your fingers going up to feel if there's anything there on instinct.

he stands up quick, back to his regular self, pinching your check acting as if nothing had just transpired. like the subtle innuendo was felt only by you. "are you blushing?? god baby your such a pervert. is that all i am to you???"

and he's back to the dramatics. rolling your eyes your shrug him of and continue. he stays, watching you, his beloved walk ahead, he feels himself let out the dreamy exhale of a lovesick fool, he'll be the first to admit that for you, he is nothing else.

a quick jog is all it takes to catch up to you. arm coming back around your shoulder he leans in like he weighs the same as the feather. burying himself close to you. you smelt sweeter than ice cream. his hair tickles your neck, and your his face.

"baby"

a hmm is all he gets in reply, to busy lapping away at your cone to pay attention to the kind sexy clown you call you boyfriend. he got your favourite flavour after all.

extravagant gestures weren't something satoru shied away from, as we have gotten to see up close today. he was loud and carefree but he was yours. and you his. walking side by side, his arm around your shoulders, head resting close to you. he can feel your pulse (his posture must've looked horribly uncomfortableto someone watching from outside the two of you). it's peaceful like this. despite the bustling crowds and busy chatter around you, you shared a feeling of peace in that moment. body held close to the one you loved, despite the heat your far from bothered by the proximity. he smells so good.

then it hits him. no sweet treat :( the gravity of the situation makes it self clear to him, but his salvation, as always, is being held delicately in your hands.

"you wouldn't mind sharing with your brave, fearless, super funny, super hot, saviour knight now would do you baby"

[fangirl-writes]

Need A Hero To Save Me (Just In Time)

JJ Maybank x Fem!Routledge!Reader

Warning(s): mild swearing. that's all.

Request: could you do a fic with jj where y/n is a routledge and after john b is presumed dead, shoupe shows up and ends up taking her to a foster camp (the one kie was actually taken to) and then jj comes to save her while kie and pope go to charlotte?

Notes: This one took a while. It's the first obx fic I've finished since s4 and...yeah. S4 wasn't exactly motivating.

You wanted to die.

You'd already lost your dad, and now you've lost your brother. You refused to go back to the Cameron's so you holed yourself up in the chateau, crying.

Kie and Pope were pretty much on house arrest, but JJ came by often.

He was the only thing holding you together at that point.

Which was why it hurt all the much more when Shoupe came to take you away.

"The...Camerons have decided to send you to Kitty Hawk," Shoupe said. "They are still technically your legal guardians, so they have a say, since you're not eighteen yet."

Your stomach sinks. The behavorial camp? You'd only heard bad things about the place, the wilderness cookoos nest, and weren't excited to have your adventure ripped out of you.

Tears swelled in your eyes. "I- I don't have a choice do I?"

Shoupe sighed, shaking his head. "No. I'm sorry, you don't."

You nodded, choking up. "Okay. Let me just...pack some stuff."

Shoupe turned away, heading back outside where the Kitty Hawk car was waiting to take you away from the only home you'd ever known.

It was empty now, though. Void of the brother and father that gave it life. A shell of a happy home.

You contemplated texting Kie. Or Pope. Tell someone where you were going.

You also considered running, but where would you go? You didn't have a car, the twinkie was still impounded, and you didn't have anywhere to go where you wouldn't be turned in.

The Carreras and Heywards were lovely, but they'd think it would be best for you to obey, to go to the reformitory camp.

"Okay, JJ," you mumbled, quickly sharing your location with him along with an explanation text. "Be my hero."

With that, you threw a few pairs of clothes and other neccessities into a bag and went to meet Shoupe outside.

So, this was it.

No more chateau. No more Kildaire High. No more boneyard parties or late night bonfires. No more pogues.

You gave your home on last look, trying to keep the tears from falling as you went.

Shoupe was talking with one of the workers, dressed in boring beige that matched the car behind him.

"Ready to go?" Shoupe asked, brightly.

"No," you replied. "But I don't have a choice, remember?"

Shoupe frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face before he turned away.

"Can I check your bag?" The worker asked, shifting his stance to face you.

"Why? Think I'm bringing a weapon or something?"

"From what I hear about you and your friends, it wouldn't be a surprise."

You glared, shoving your bag into the man's arms. "Don't go rooting around in my underwear, would you?"

He didn't dignify your jab with a response, simply rumaged through your few belongings before zipping it back up and handing it to you.

"Everything a-okay, boss?" you snap.

The worker grunts, opening the back door for you to get in.

You send Shoupe one last glare before getting in and having the door slammed behind you.

Meanwhile, JJ's phone dinged with a text that wasn't from the recently resurrected John B.

"Guys, we have a problem," JJ said, looking up from his phone.

"Yeah, obviously, clearing John B.'s name is gonna be-"

"No. I mean a new problem," JJ interrupted. "The Camerons sent Y/N to Kitty Hawk."

Kiara's head snapped up. "The wilderness camp?"

"Yeah," JJ slammed his hand against the lockers. "God damn it! Every time we catch a break it's something else."

"I hate to say this, JJ, but we have bigger fish to fry right now," Pope said. "Y/N will be fine at Kitty Hawk but John B. could be snagged at any moment."

JJ looked scandalized. "Pope they're gonna rip her personality out of her, haven't you heard the stories?"

"Yes, JJ, I have and I know that they don't shoot them on sight, okay?" Pope replied. "Right now, we gotta try to get some evidence against Rafe before the Camerons destory any trace of it, okay?"

JJ looked like he wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut. "Fine. But we get something, I'm going for her, alright? I'm not gonna let her rot in there. Not when her brother's alive."

You were curled in on yourself, knees hugged to your chest as you watched the trees pass by, depression and hopelessness setting in. You hadn't heard back from JJ or anyone.

You felt well and truly alone.

The car pulled up to the gate where a guard was stood.

"I have Y/N Routledge," the driver said.

The guard waved them through and the gates closed behind you.

There were girls all around, gardening, mowing, digging. Manual labor type things.

Your stomach sank.

The worker and driver that picked you up led you passed all the girls (who looked about as excited to be there as you did) into an building where you were handed a uniform and sent into an office to speak with a woman you guessed was the leader of this...lovely establishment.

"Welcome to our camp, Y/N," she said with a smile that was a bit too kind for the soulless nature of the place. "How are you finding it so far."

You shrugged. "Not finding it inviting, if that's what you were hoping for."

The woman ignored you, jotting something down in the notebook before her.

"I understand you recently lost your brother," she said.

You glared at her. "Yeah. Someone was trying to frame him for murder and he died in a thunderstorm. Thanks for bringing that up, it only happened a few days ago, so it's still raw and all that."

She smiled at you. "You know, we can help you process it. Here we give girls like you the opportunity to rebuild."

"Girls like me?"

"Girls from...rough homes."

"I am not from a rough home."

She flipped a page she had. "Stop me if I'm wrong, but for the last several months you were living in your childhood home without a guardian, and with your brother, until Ward Cameron took you in."

"Yeah, and then Ward Cameron's psycho son shot our sheriff and they framed my brother for it, so forgive me if I wasn't too eager to go back," you snapped.

She closed the file. "Y/N. I understand that you are greiving. But this is a new opportunity for you. A good opportunity."

You snorted. "Yeah. I'm sure."

JJ was going insane. He couldn't stop think about you, about John B. It was like the Routledges had moved into his brain.

He tried texting you, no answer. John B. was also MIA, probably ditched the phone he was using.

And now Pope wanted to go to Charleston.

"Charleston?" JJ asked.

"I know," Pope replied. "It's like an eight hour drive plus the ferry, how are we going to get there tonight?"

"Yeah, we'd have to leave like right now."

"I have a free period," Kiara said.

"Material evidence," JJ whispered. "What's that even mean 'material evidence'?"

"It means he can clear John B.," Kiara explained.

"Oh, shit, then we're going to Charleston," JJ said, louder than the cranky librarian cared for.

"I need to tell my mom," Kiara said. "If we get it this time, we are not giving it to Shoupe."

JJ agreed.

Clear John B. This could be huge.

"Guys," JJ said suddenly. "If, uh, if we're clearing John B...I really think Y/N outta be there."

They both groaned. "Not this again, JJ."

"What? Doesn't she deserve to know he's alive? That he can maybe come home?" JJ said.

"Yes, of course she does, but we have to go to Charleston, we can't take a detour-"

"Then I'll go get her!" he whisper-shouted. "You guys go to Charleston and I'll go get Y/N."

Kiara huffed at him. "Do you even have a plan?"

JJ shrugged. "You know me, I make it up as I go."

"JJ, you don't have a car, how are you even going to get there?" Pope said.

JJ frowned. "I'll- I'll go break the twinkie out of lockup and use it."

"What?"

"JJ, what if you get caught?"

JJ groaned. "All right, how about y'all focus on Charleston and I'll focus on Y/N."

In the end, they agreed and let him go off to break out the twinkie and try to break out Y/N.

All the while, you were stuck hanging laundry and gardening. Nothing you'd never done before, but something about being forced to do it made it worse.

Plus, you'd never been a morning person and waking up before 6 a.m. was proving to be a nightmare.

And going to bed at 9 p.m. only made you dream about John B. About how he must've drowned in that thunderstorm. About him calling your name before being swallowed by the ocean.

You woke up crying.

JJ drove up to the Kitty Hawk gate, trying to appear as casually as he could in the beat-up, cracked windshield, hippie van that was the twinkie. It was a miracle that he was able to get it out and get it running without ending up with a flat halfway there.

"How y'all doing?" JJ greeted, giving the gate guard his brightest, most casual smile.

"Can I help you?" The guard said.

"Hey, there, uh, sir, I-" He gestured to the gate. "Camp couselor Laura, I'm- I'm her brother. I was gonna drop off one of these packages back here for her, if that's okay."

One of JJ's strengths was lying out of his ass.

He could only hope that a) there was a couselor named Laura or b) that these guy's didn't know the counselor's names.

"It's real quick, I promise, just in and out," he said. "That all right?"

JJ's heart was pounding, but his exterior remained calm.

"Yeah, go ahead," the guard said, gesturing to the other guard to wave him through.

Fuck. Yes.

"Thank you so much, all right," JJ said. "Y'all have a good day."

He drove the twinkie into Kitty Hawk on a hope and a prayer, easing it into a parking space and getting out.

"Okay, Y/N, if I were you, where would I be hiding out in this shit hole?" he mumbled.

It was an eerie place. Girls walked in formal lines and were watched like hawks at they did so.

JJ waved to one of the watchers. "Hi there, sir, uh, I'm looking for... I'm looking for the office."

The man seemed nice enough, seeming to trust JJ's nice demeanor (and the fact he was let in at all).

"Is there a main lodge or something?"

The man pointed him in the right direction and JJ followed without argument, sauntering right up to the office.

"Hi there, ma'am," JJ said to the woman at the front desk.

"Can I help you son?" she asked.

"I, uh, I have a message for one of your campers," he said. "Uh, Y/N. Y/N Routledge, she's here, right?"

"Unfortunately we're not allowed to do that," the woman responded, looking at him in the way the woman in the high school office always did when he got called into the principal's office. "You're not even supposed to be here on campus."

JJ licked his lips. "Okay. It's...It's just that's it's a very important- May I sit?"

The woman allowed him and he settled into the chair.

"A very important matter, ma'am," He continued.

"Oh, I'm sure it is, sweetie, but we have a policy. No contact from the outside world for the first six weeks."

JJ considered. He had to pull on this woman's heart strings to get anywhere. She was nice enough, had a picture of her cat on her desk...which sadly meant he could manipulate her pretty easily.

"Right...ma'am, it's actually a family matter, and uh," he said. "I'm...I'm related to her, I'm her cousin. So, I know you got a policy and all, but there's just been something that happened recently that..."

JJ was getting choked up.

Fakely, of course, but he was still doing it.

"You know what? I'm getting a little emotional, right now, so I think I should go," he stood up. "I shouldn't even be here, like you said, so I'll leave you alone. But before I leave-"

Here goes nothing.

"Could you just let her know, um...could you let her know that they found her brother?"

The woman seemed taken aback.

"I- uh, I'm sure you've heard that he drowned in a boating accident a few days ago and, uh, they've been looking for him since and...and they finally found him this morning, so."

The woman seemed striken, her eyes even getting a little misty.

"I'll- I'll go now, sorry to bother you..."

Then he was out.

But he wasn't done.

He snuck around the side of the building, watching as the front desk woman and an attendant went up to a building and unlocked it.

"Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?"

You perked up from your space on the bed at the voice and headed to the door.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk, we feel you have the strength to hear all the news," she said when you were in front of her. "Including bad news."

Your stomach sank. "What happened?"

"Well, your cousin was here a minute ago."

Your face flashed with confusion.

As far as you knew, you didn't have any cousins.

"What cousin?"

"A young man, blond."

Your eyes widened.

JJ?

"He asked me to tell you that...that they found your brother."

"Wh- what?"

"He said they found him this morning...that he didn't make it."

Your legs felt like they were going to give out.

No. No, no, no no.

"They- He-" Tears were swelling up in your eyes.

"Oh, oh, honey, why don't you go sit down," she said.

JJ, who was pressed against the building as tightly as he could, felt guilty for using John B. (who wasn't dead) as a way to get to you. But it was the only thing he could think of.

"Take all the time you need."

You went back inside the cabin and dropped on the bed.

JJ. He was there.

And he wouldn't leave you there, would he?

You needed him now more than ever.

That night, two attendants came by the reflection cabin, where they'd placed you for that afternoon.

"Y/N." the woman said. "We know your greiving and feel you're best supported by your peers. So, we're going to relocate you."

Your heart started pounding.

"I- I really feel like I need some more time to reflect," you said.

"No stalling," the man snapped. "Come on, we're putting you in a dorm. Cabin six. Let's go."

You could only hope that if JJ was still there, he was watching closely.

You followed them into Cabin Six, where girls of all kinds turned to look at you as you walked in. Like they were eyeing up the new meat.

"Girls. This is Y/N." the woman said. "She's had some tough family news. Let's show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?"

The way they were looking at you, you guessed the real answer would be no.

They whispered and smirked as one of the male attendants walked you to your bed. It was a top bunk, near the middle of the room.

Not at all like your cosy, window side bed back home.

It made you feel like a trapped animal. And the girls didn't help.

It seemed like love and empathy were the last things these girls wanted to offer you.

At least they didn't taunt or bully, like the Kooks. At least they gave you the peace of being left alone.

You rumaged through your bag as the sun had nearly set and all the girls were getting ready for bed.

You pulled out the photobooth strip of photos you had with the pogues that you'd take on your birthday last year, before everything went to shit. One with each of them and one all together.

You heart ached as you looked at the picture of you and John B. and you felt the tears start to swell in your eyes.

You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to be caught crying around everyone.

Then, your eyes landed on the one of you and JJ.

God. JJ.

If he was there, if he was really going to save you, god, you'd kiss him.

You wanted to go home.

The night settled in and you closed your eyes, but didn't sleep. Waiting and hoping with all your might, that he was going to find you.

And JJ was hoping with all his might that none of these guys with flashlights stumbled upon him.

He carefully made his way to the building labeled "Cabin Group #6" and quietly tried popping the door unlocked with an old card he had in his bag.

It worked, but it also made a loud noise as it opened, causing him to swear under his breath as he eased it open, slipped inside, and eased it closed again.

There were rows of beds there and he had no way of knowing which one Y/N was in.

So, he started asking "Y/N?" as quietly as he could.

Unfortunately, in the otherwise pin-drop silence of the cabin, it was still loud.

One girl clicked on the light and he froze.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked.

Fuck.

"Uh, evening, miss," he tried. "Sorry- Sorry to bother y'all."

Other girls started sitting up and looking at him, none of them so far Y/N.

"Shit. I know this looks bad, but I come in peace," he insisted. "I'm just looking for someone, I'm looking for-"

"JJ?"

He turned at your voice, his heart jumping in his chest as his eyes finally landed on you.

Your eyes were puffy and your hair was messy but you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Y/N." he breathed.

You moved, leg swinging over the bed and climbing down to see him. You rushed into his awaiting arms, hugging him tightly.

"JJ, what're you- how did you- did they really find-"

"No!" JJ assured, a little louder than he meant. "No. No, he's alive, Y/N. Him and Sarah, they both made it. They're hiding out in the Bahamas and Pope and Kie are in Charleston getting something to clear his name so he can come home."

The information hit you like a train. "Are- are you serious? JJ, I-"

"Look, we gotta go, okay? Before someone catches me- or us. Okay, we just gotta," he started moving towards the door.

You quickly grabbed your bag from the side of the bed and rushed after him.

"Ladies," JJ said. "Thank you for your cooperation."

And then you were gone, leaving the other girls with an unlocked door.

You and JJ rushed through the trees, hand in hand.

"I can't believe you did this!" you cried, absolutely elated.

"You thought I was just going to let you rot in there? When John B.'s alive? No way, man. Never."

"JJ," you stopped him in the middle of the trees. "Thank you. Really, thank you. Thank you so much."

He grinned. "You can thank me later, let's just get out of here before they send someone after us."

You both continued running, bags bouncing and hearts pumping, towards the place he'd stashed the twinkie before sneaking back in.

You saw the old van and felt your heart swell. It was just as much home as the chateau.

JJ jumped in the driver's seat and you in the passenger.

"Hey," you said, getting his attention.

When he turned his head, you kissed him.

He sucked in a breath, surprised at your action, so the kiss lasted only a short moment.

"Thank you, again," you said, smiling.

He blinked a moment, trying to get his brain back on line, and cleared his throat. "Yeah, you're- uh. You're welcome. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

His face had flushed, though you couldn't see it in the dark, and he drove off, back towards the Kildaire.

You and JJ were definitely going to need a moment to talk about your feelings later, but for now you were out of Kitty Hawk, your brother was alive, and he was going to be coming home.

You felt more alive on that drive back than you had since your dad went missing.

[accio-sriracha]

Because @bradleysass politely held a gun to my head...

SNIPPET TIME

This one is from (you guessed it) another unpublished wip of mine called "My Brother's Best Friend"

"Uh... help yourself to anything." Regulus paused as he gestured to the fridge, "Especially since you bought most of it."

Potter just chuckled and toed off his shoes, walking across the small, one room flat to plop down on Sirius' mattress,

"Thanks, but I already ate."

Regulus' brows furrowed.

So he wasn't here for Sirius or food? Those were the only two things he'd ever swung by for.

"Did you... Did you want me to leave?" He asked, unsure of himself.

Potter looked up, blinking in surprise, "Why would I ask you to leave your own flat?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know, we've never really spoken before and Sirius isn't here, so..."

"I know he isn't here." He replied, "I came here to see you."

Regulus was pretty sure if brains could stutter: his was.

Potter laughed at his dumbfounded expression,

"I told Padfoot I would try to get to know you a little better. He wants us to get along."

"We get along." Regulus protested.

Potter stared doubtfully at him.

In truth, most of the few conversations they had were arguments, particularly about Regulus not wanting to take Potter's hand outs.

He was otherwise usually set in his ways about ignoring him, Regulus heard Potter tell Sirius once that he was surprised someone could show so little emotion all the time.

Which is probably why Potter looked so amused now, staring at the blatant shock on his face. He'd never been caught so thoroughly off guard before.

"Right." He nodded, looking away.

He schooled his normal mannerisms back into place.

So what if Potter wanted to hang out with him? That shouldn't be that earth shattering. He didn't even care.

"Don't do that." Potter said suddenly.

Regulus looked back at him, eyebrow raised, "Don't do what, Potter?

"Don't shut me out. I saw it, you were opening up to me just a second ago."

And there it was, Regulus was floored again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked.

It was the only question that could make it through the spinning in his mind.

Surely Potter wasn't honestly trying to be his friend?

"Is it really hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?" Potter asked.

Regulus snorted, filling a cup with tap water and ignoring the bitter metallic taste when he drank from it,

"Yeah, actually, it is."

"How can I prove it to you?" His voice dropped a little, like he was sharing a secret.

Regulus felt his stomach twist,

"What?" He whispered, unintentionally dropping his voice as well, sharing in this strange secret between the two of them.

Potter stood from the mattress, walking over to their small kitchen with a determined look in his eyes, the same kind of determination Regulus saw whenever he made a bet he knew he could win,

"How can I prove to you that I enjoy your company?"

"I'm not a game, Potter." Regulus' sharp tone was back, "I'm not something for you to toy with because you're bored."

"This isn't a game to me." Potter's voice was earnest, the most genuine Regulus had ever heard it.

Potter, the man who walked around with a joke always on the tip of his tongue.

The man who called him 'Reggie' because he knew how much he hated it.

The man who's spent every minute of the time they'd known each other making Regulus' life as difficult as possible.

And yet here he was, so much honesty in his eyes, so much emotion in his voice, telling Regulus he wanted to be friends with him.

"You're serious?" He asked.

It was a test, he knew neither of them could resist the 'Sirius' joke.

Potter held his gaze, warm brown to cutting silver,

"Yes."

And suddenly Regulus couldn't breathe.

[hanakogames]

Now here is a couple that I take actual fandom credit for.

Like, I'm sure someone would have figured it out eventually! The subtext is so there and so intentional, modern fandom would surely have caught on. But back in the day when I first read the New Mutants (which was *not* when it first came out, the comics ran from the 80s and as you've doubtless noticed most of my Formative Ships are closer to y2k) my immediate reaction was "WOW that's gay" followed by a surprise that the fandom, as I could find it at the time, didn't seem to have any idea! (They're literally soulmates??)

... partly because much more recent comics had split them up and gone in other directions but I didn't care I wasn't reading those.

If you're unfamiliar, super-quick overview: Danielle is Cheyenne and originally has a bit of a chip on her shoulder because she's sick of dealing with racists. Her mutant power is projecting visions of your fears and desires. Rahne is a couple of years younger, a Scottish girl raised by an abusive preacher who therefore has SERIOUS religious guilt issues about absolutely everything. Her mutant power is being a werewolf (which she also fears is a sin). They share a psychic connection when Rahne is in wolf form, they're best friends, they call each other soulmates, they're very protective of each other, they touch a lot, and they got very close to saying "I love-" before being cut off by events.

ANYWAY we assembled our list of "Claremont, who loves lesbians and slipping them past the editors, absolutely intended these two, here's the evidence" and circulated it amidst the mailing lists and usenet groups of the time. Over the years I've seen many people I don't know refer specifically to our list and our evidence, and it has become a pretty standard ship, especially since.... but that's another story.

Because it was basically unknown back in the day I do not have ancient fanfics to share with you on this count. The two enduring-classic old NM fics I can name don't go there (though one does give Dani a girlfriend) and I do not remember even where to find the handful of stories that were posted back in the days when fics had individual fandom archives at best.

I can dig up stories to link now but they aren't stories that I've read and loved over the years, they're just things I'm finding right this moment. Anyway here's a couple that look promising:

Halfway Home (fairly short, just focused on the attraction and the angst)

Where All The Fun Will Be (more story-focused but requires knowledge of the comics as events are constantly moving forward in the background without much signposting)

The New Mutants (archive-locked) Length fanfic series that looks like it's going to build an entire alternate continuity for the comics? I haven't read this.

Artist’s gallery is here but this image doesn’t seem to be online there anymore.

[byhawthorne]

Nightmares.

– Grayson Hawthorne x fem!xreader : she always seeks comfort in Grayson when she has nightmares.

an : hi!! finally i stopped fighting the fact that i want to write Gray one shots, so here i am. i wanted to write something cute and comforting, i'm not the best writer but i promise to improve and i will write other things where i include the other characters. important: i still don't know if i should use (Y/N) so sometimes i won't mention any name but in other one shots I'll add (Y/N) enjoy! 🫶🏻

She opened the door somewhat hesitantly. Everything was dark and it was clear that he was sleeping, maybe she should turn around and... No, Grayson wasn't going to bite her. Besides, it wasn't the first time she'd been there.

She closed the door behind her and walked over to Grayson's bed. The Hawthornes had offered her a room for a few days and by the Hawthornes she meant Grayson had insisted. It wasn't that bad, Xander had actually talked to her a lot and shown her his experiments. It helped distract her and it was actually much better to be there than in her own house.

"Gray..." she murmured but he didn't move. She was nervous, why was she more nervous than other days?

Well, Grayson wasn't her boyfriend. She wasn't entirely sure if they were a thing but she knew they weren't just friends either, she was too scared to ask. By the way, Xander had said it was stupid and that everything would be fixed by asking, he almost opened his mouth for a second.

The last few nights she had been having nightmares, too many nightmares and so horrible that it was difficult for her to get back to sleep. He had helped, he let her get into his bed and hugged her. She was pretty sure she'd never seen Grayson hug people all the time, but she wasn't just anyone. She had a different side to him.

"Gray..." She muttered one last time and decided that if she didn't get an answer she was just going to leave and get something to drink in the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" He opened his eyes and for a second he was scared to notice that it was still nighttime. But then he saw her there, next to his bed and immediately knew what was happening. "Another nightmare?"

She nodded embarrassedly. She liked seeing him like that, sleepy and with his hair disheveled. It was almost unusual to see him without his suit, she never said it out loud but seeing him like that was her favorite thing.

"I'm sorry..." She sighed and regretted being there in the middle of the night, but she felt calmer when she saw Grayson shake his head and make room for her on the bed.

She slid into bed next to him and immediately her arms went around him. She sighed clinging to him, she could feel how warm he was.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she heard him murmur. He always asked her if she wanted to talk about it and she always said no... For Grayson it was just a nightmare, for her were memories. Saying it was just a nightmare sounded much better, at least until she was ready.

"No... just hold me." She sighed. She didn't want to lie to him but there were things she wasn't ready to say yet, especially since they were only fragments of her memories.

Minutes passed and she began to hear Grayson's heavy breathing again. "Gray?" She lifted her face only to notice that he had already fallen asleep again. She smiled, she loved seeing him so peaceful every time he slept, she could spend hours watching him just sleeping.

She pressed her lips against his cheek and snuggled back into his side feeling calmer. He always made her feel calm.

[rekino2114]

How about we do a Valentines Day prompt for Wenona~ I freaking love this woman, and I don't even know why. So let's do prompt 25:proposing on valentine's day🩷

Wenona proposing to you on valentine's day

Pairing:Wenona x gn reader

Valentine's prompt#25

Prompts list

"YOU'RE GOING TO PROPOSE TO Y/N!?"

"Shut up ya gremlin, do you want the whole school to hear?"

"It's fine I asked Diana and jett to hang out with y/n so they won't see me setting everything up"

Your girlfriend Wenona was currently talking about her proposal to toshiko, grace and desmond

"This is simply splendid news, love truly is in the air today even more than other valentine's days"

"That's great news Wenona, congratulations, but are you really sure about that? It's a big decision and we're still pretty young"

"Y/n is the person I want to marry. They've been with me ever since I had nothing and have continued to support me all these years, so yes, I am 100% sure. And age shouldn't play a factor in that, if I want to marry them now, I'm going to"

"Pfft, so cheesy"

"And that's why no one loves you"

"What did you say you soybean?"

"C-calm down Wenona, there's someone foe everyone in this world.....even for grace"

"Oi! What is that supposed to mean gremlin?"

"By the way, do you need any help with the preparation? I would be most honored to help such a wonderful couple seal their love forever"

"Thanks kid but it's fine, I already have everything prepared"

"Oh that's nice, could you tell us if you don't mind?"

"Sure, I was thinking of just doing it the classic way, I already have a reservation at their favorite restaurants and the ring prepared, I'm just going to propose after the dinner"

"Oh that's a good choice, an intimate and romantic atmosphere is key for moments like these"

"A bit too cliché if you ask me"

"Like they say, if something isn't broken then don't fix it"

"What's the ring like anyway? Can we see it?"

"And risk one of you breaking it? As if. That ring is worth more than your entire networth"

"Sure, how much can a stupid ring cost?"

"It's 24 carat gold with a 50k dollars worth diamond on the middle"

"F-fifty- the fuck! That's more than I've earned in my entire goddamn career"

"Told ya it was expensive"

"Grace, please tone down the language there's a child around. B-but wenona don't you think that's a bit.....excessive"

"If you think that's excessive, then you're not ready to hear my plans for the wedding"

"You might as well wear a dress made of banknotes while you're at it"

"Hey that's a great idea, thanks for the suggestion"

"I WAS KIDDING!"

"C-calm down everyone, while I might not know what a carat is. I know that there is no price you can put on love, so I fully respect wenona's choice"

"If you don't stop spouting those romance movies phrases I'll tore that fan of yours to shreds"

"N-not my fan!"

"Grace stop it! And Wenona thanks for telling us and I hope everything goes well for you and y/n"

"Thanks, I'm sure it will"

After saying goodbye to her classmate, Wenona went back to her dorm to set up everything, preparing the ring and putting on one of her best dresses. When you came back she told you about her plans and that it was going to be a simple date for Valentine's Day so you agreed quickly and got dressed to go to the restaurant.

The dinner was amazing with Wenona complimenting you every chance she got and telling you how much she loved you basically every minute, you were a bit surprised as she wasn't this loving often, sure she complimented you a lot but this time it seemed different, but you still ignored the feeling and simply continued eating with her.

You finished your last glass of golden champagne and told your girlfriend you wanted to finishe dinner, she simply smiled and said that she had to do something first

"What is it?"

"This"

She suddenly got on one knee, and before you could even react, she pulled out a velvet box out of her pocket and opened it to reveal the most beautiful (and expensive) ring you had ever seen

"Y/n in the time we've been together I have loved you like I love no one else, I know you're with me because of me and not my money or some other dumb reason and so I want to spend the rest of my life with you simple as that, I promise to take care of you and love you forever and all of the rest, I think you can wait for the vows for the entire speech right? Anyway what do you say, will you marry me?"

"A-are you serious?"

"Do you think I would have brought a ring like this for a joke?"

"S-sorry it's just.....really? You want to marry me?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're the whole package, sweet, cute, and smart, I'd be an idiot to not take the opportunity. You still didn't answer me, by the way, even if I probably already know what the answer"

"Yes, yes of course I'll marry you"

"That's what I wanted to hear, now come here"

You got closer to her and she put the ring on your finger, you admired it for a while before you were surprised by Wenona kissing your lips.

The kiss went on for a while, and when you pulled back she started at you with a loving look in her eyes

"I love you my future wife"

"I love you too y/n"

[kayrrhin]

Colours and jealousy

character: Xavier Xavier x gn!non-mc!reader fluff, valentines day themed, Jeremiah cameo

453 words

Valentines day was getting closer and compared to last year, Xavier hadn't found your gift yet, probably because you had been extra cautious to avoid a situation similar to Christmas, where he discovered his surprise because he had lost his sweater once again. No, this time you had decided to leave the gift at Jeremiah's this way you could work on it there and have feedback on your work from him. This caused Xavier to start getting jealous, you were spending so much time at Jeremiah's and with his hectic schedule you weren't seeing each other much, which caused him to start thinking of a way to kill Jeremiah because "why would you spend more time with him than with me??".

Which is why, the morning of Valentines day, when you had decided to finally take the card with you to give him, Xavier, who was usually asleep at this hour, was currently at the front door of Jeremiah's flower shop, glaring at him while you were hiding the finished card behind you.

"Starlight, can i have a word with Jeremy?" he said, not even trying to hide the fact he wanted to strangle him considering he clearly called him Jeremy because he's angry.

"Please don't leave, (y/n)—"Jeremiah said, knowing Xavier was about to get him back to Philos with just one hit if this continued.

You sighed and looked at Xavier, getting up with the card in your hand, chuckling a little. "please don't kill him...he was helping me with something..."

Xavier looked at you, calming down and seeming slightly confused. "I could've helped you...why him?" you laughed and craddled his face in one of your hand "because it was a surprise for you, stupid..." you said, a bit amused before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, handing him the card with a tender smile. "Happy Valentines day, Love"

Xavier looked at the card filled with little details of things he liked, realising Jeremiah probably helped you know a bit more about his taste, he kept looking at the card, impressed and very happy that you made so much effort for him yet still a bit frustrated with Jeremiah. "it's very pretty...i love it, darling..." he looked at you with a small smile before pouting slightly "just next time ask someone else...not him.." he said, still slightly jealous "heh? why—?"

You chuckled and pinched his nose "be nicer to your best friend...he helped me a lot"

Xavier sighed and looked at Jeremiah "...thanks for helping her...but next time don't."

And after that, you both spent the day together on a little date, promising Jeremiah that you'd invite him to hot pot next time! ...Though Xavier didn't seem very excited about it...

Hiii, I'm so happy to be back! i hope the fic was alright, it had been a while since i had written anything, even for myself so i hope it's good :)

[maretinelli]

FAILED MEETING

Ollie Bearman X fem!reader

Summary: Where the four times Ollie helped Y/n get over her failed dates, but on the fifth, she realizes that what she was looking for was right there in front of her the whole time.

Words: 3.5K+

Warnings: Best friends since childhood to lovers and Ollie being really cute with Y/n, Mention of college reader, mention of alcoholic beverages, a part where Y/n is a little drunk but it's funny, Ollie taking care of her, and mentions of meeting other guys, happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

1st Failed Meeting.

Y/n was there, sitting at the table, trying to focus on the words coming out of the mouth of the man in front of her. He seemed to be very outgoing, wanting to show off everything he had achieved, his travels, his projects, his successes.

At first, Y/n thought he was just a bubbly person who liked to share stories about himself. She tried to stay interested by smiling and nodding, but as time went on, she began to realize that he wasn't the least bit interested in hearing about her.

Every time she started to speak, he interrupted her, going back to his own conquests.

"I, of course, have already been to Paris, as I said. And when I got there, everyone was impressed with my work." He said, not noticing the look of frustration that formed in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n started to feel invisible, like she was an accessory in his conversation, not someone he really wanted to talk to. She looked at her watch, feeling like she needed to get out of there.

It was impossible to stay there.

"I... I think I have to go. I have an appointment that just came up." Y/n said, standing up quickly.

"But... are you serious? Already?" He looked at her with a look of surprise, still trying to grasp what was happening.

"Yeah, I'm really late." Y/n replied, forcing a smile. "I'll pay my share at the counter."

She grabbed her bag and stood up, leaving the table before he had time to react. When she left the restaurant, she quickly grabbed her phone and texted Ollie.

'S.O.S. I need rescue.'

'I'm on 5th Avenue, Italian restaurant ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ"

Minutes later, Ollie appeared. She smiled in relief when she saw him. He had a curious smile on his face, but his expression soon softened.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" Ollie asked, laughing as she got into the car.

Y/n sighed, giving a wry smile. "You have no idea. The guy is... THE GUY ONLY TALKS ABOUT HIMSELF, Ollie. He's a narcissist! He interrupted me every time I tried to talk about myself. I couldn't even tell him I like coffee with milk without him starting to talk about the last time he had coffee at a fancy restaurant."

Ollie laughed out loud, amusement evident on his face. "So how was he feeling, being the only interesting human being in the conversation?"

"He was loving it! I have no words, Ollie."

He laughed again. "I knew it was going to be a disaster. He seemed pretty perfect at first, didn't he?" Ollie starts driving.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'perfect'... Except not. He has no idea how to be a person."

Ollie glanced at her, the amused expression still on his face. "Do you want to come over to my apartment? I ordered a pizza a few minutes ago and it should be here soon. Maybe you'll be able to forget about the whole disaster."

Y/n smiled at the offer. "That sounds perfect."

As he drove, the two felt comfortable with each other. They had been friends for so many years, and she felt that, through it all, Ollie had always been there for her, more than anyone else.

Since childhood, the two had exchanged confidences, and Y/n, although she knew how much she cared for him, still didn't have the courage to say how sorry she was. Ollie, on the other hand, had always had the same feeling, but was afraid to confess and risk their friendship.

They arrived at Ollie's apartment, and he began to talk about the training he had done that day. "It was intense. I'm really excited to get back on the track. I hope the car can handle the changes. I need more practice time."

Y/n listened to him attentively, enjoying seeing him so excited, her smile widening as she felt the comfortable atmosphere around her.

She took off her heels and placed them near the door, next to Ollie's sneakers. It was like she was home.

Ollie walked over to the intercom to answer the pizza, and then turned to Y/n, a soft look in his eyes. "I have some comfortable clothes here if you want. You can grab something from my closet."

Y/n looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. You're probably bothered by that skirt and tights, aren't you?"

Y/n smiled and walked closer to him. "You know me very well." She hugged him affectionately, placing her head on his shoulder, and then placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck, which made her smile shyly. "Thank you, Ollie."

Ollie was quiet for a moment, feeling the softness of her touch, but he smiled. "I'll get the pizza downstairs. Make yourself at home."

Y/n watched him walk away, the heat from their interaction still in her body as the feeling she had always had for him intensified, something she could no longer ignore.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

2nd Failed Meeting.

The date seemed promising at first. Y/n and the guy had agreed on something simple: to go out for ice cream in the afternoon. The weather was cold, but nothing a milkshake couldn't make up for. At first, she thought it would be a pleasant afternoon.

But she soon realized she was wrong.

He spent most of his time looking at his phone, laughing at messages and occasionally commenting on other girls. He talked about how his ex was still trying to get back together with him, how a college friend of his was 'too hot' and how a girl he met on Instagram seemed 'too nice'.

At no point did he ask anything about Y/n. Not about her day, not about what she liked, nothing.

Then he got a message and laughed out loud. "Oh my god, look at this!" He said, but didn't bother showing it to Y/n.

It was there that she realized he really didn't want to be there.

Y/n just sighed and decided it wasn't worth wasting any more time. She stood up, grabbed her bag and said without hesitation, "I need to go. My parents are going out and they need the car."

The guy barely looked up from his phone. "Oh, no problem. We'll talk later."

She rolled her eyes, grabbed the untouched milkshake, and walked out of the fancy ice cream shop.

Getting into the car, he took out his cell phone and sent a message to Ollie.

'Meet me in the park near Big Ben?'

The answer came within seconds.

'I'll be there in a few minutes. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)'

Y/n started the car and drove to the meeting point. On the way, she laughed to herself, remembering the absurd things he had said.

"Thank God I got out."

As she reached the park, the chilly London wind blew her hair away. She leaned against the railing, looking out at Big Ben and the bridge. The biting cold called for a thick coat, and Y/n was wearing a cozy sweater and scarf, but she still felt the wind blowing against her face.

That's when he felt a hand land gently on his shoulder.

"How many minutes did you last this time?" Ollie asked, leaning against the railing beside her, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Long enough to hear him talk about other girls like I was one of his friends."

Ollie's eyes widened in disbelief. "No kidding."

"I swear! He spent the whole time on his phone and laughing at the messages he received. Oh, and he even told me, all excited, that his ex still isn't over him."

Ollie laughed out loud. "Was this a date or a therapy session for him?"

"I should have charged for that." Y/n laughed along.

Ollie watched her, enchanted without even realizing it. The sparkle in her eyes as she spoke, the way the wind made her hair dance in the air, the way she wrinkled her nose every time she talked about the idiot she had gone out with.

Everything about her seemed perfect to him. It always had.

She noticed his gaze and smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Ollie said, quickly looking away at the view of the river. "I'm just trying to understand how someone sets you up on a date and then decides to ignore you."

Y/n laughed, tossing her hair back. "Yeah, I wanted to understand too."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You know, maybe it's your fault."

"Mine?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Yes. You always attract the most bizarre cases. I think you have a special talent for it."

Y/n pushed him lightly, laughing. "Funny."

Ollie pointed to the cup in his hand. "What's up? Did you buy a milkshake to drown your sorrows?"

She lifted her nearly full glass and sighed dramatically. "Yes. My great consolation after the worst date of my life."

"Well, at least the milkshake didn't ignore you to talk about his ex." Ollie joked.

Y/n laughed again, feeling her heart warm with his presence. With Ollie, everything was different. Everything was light, fun, safe. She knew, deep down, that no date would work out because no guy would be like him.

But confessing it? That was the real challenge.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

3rd Failed Meeting

From the beginning, Y/n could tell something was wrong.

The guy didn't just seem excited, he was scary. Before they even had their first drink, he was already talking about marriage, kids, and how they were 'made for each other'.

Y/n listened to everything with wide eyes, trying to understand why he was so convinced that she was 'the woman of his life' after just a few exchanged messages and casual encounters at college.

He acted as if they were already in love, talking about their future together, their travel plans, their children's names, how his mother would love to meet her. All this without even knowing what her favorite food was.

They were in a bar near the college, and Y/n, completely scared by every word that came out of his mouth, started drinking. A tequila. Then, a shot of vodka. Then beer. Each sip was a momentary relief from the barrage of exaggerated statements he made.

When she realized that the alcohol was already rising and that she definitely couldn't stay there, she decided to find a way to leave.

"I... just remembered that I need to go home. My parents need me there."

She grabbed her bag and hurriedly got up, leaving before he could say anything.

As soon as he left there, he picked up his cell phone and found a message from Ollie.

'So, how's the date going?'

'Terrible. And I'm a little drunk. I need to get home, but I can't drive.'

'I'm coming to get you, babe'

The bar was close to the college, so she walked over and sat down on the steps of the block where her course rooms were. She wasn't completely drunk—not to the point where she was throwing up or couldn't walk—but she knew she wasn't sober enough to drive or take a taxi by herself.

A few minutes later, a taxi pulled up in front of her. Ollie got out of the car, said something to the driver, and paid the fare before looking in Y/n's direction.

She was sitting on the stairs, looking down at the ground with a dejected expression. He couldn't tell if it was because of the disastrous date or simply because she was tired from class.

He walked up the steps and smiled. "Wow, Y/n. You look great. Radiant, even."

Y/n looked up, snorted, and smiled. "Shut up."

"Come on, I'll help you." Ollie laughed and held out his hands to her.

She took his hands, and Ollie gently pulled her up, helping her to her feet. Once she was standing, she sighed. "The guy was already talking about kids, marriage, our country house, and naming our dogs."

Ollie's eyes widened. "Bullshit."

"I swear. And the worst part? He acted like we'd been married for years. Like... we don't even know each other!"

"You attract such a weirdo..." Ollie chuckled, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, crossing her arms. Ollie then held out his hand to her.

Half drunk and a little lost, Y/n just slapped his palm and said excitedly: "HIGH-FIVE!"

Ollie laughed, tilting his head back. "Y/n, I wanted your car keys, not a high-five."

She frowned and then raised her eyebrows, as if she understood the logic of it. "Ahhh. Here..."

Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to him with a smile.

"Thanks." Ollie laughed, putting away the keys and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go home, honey."

Y/n snuggled against him as they walked towards the parking lot. Ollie felt torn on one hand, seeing Y/n hanging out with other guys always made him sad.

But on the other hand, he liked being the person who always rescued her. I enjoyed taking care of her, even if it was after failed dates and a few extra shots of tequila.

As they got into the car, Ollie put on his seatbelt. Y/n watched him closely, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so beautiful." She commented suddenly.

Ollie paused for a second, turned his face to her and raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk."

"That doesn't mean it's a lie." She smiled even wider.

Ollie laughed, starting the car. "Okay, let's get you home before you propose to me too."

•••••••••••••••••••••

4th Failed Meeting

Dinner had barely started, and Y/n already wanted to run away.

The guy couldn't stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. About how perfect she was. About how she broke his heart. About how sometimes he still dreamed about her.

Y/n tried to change the subject a few times, but he always found a way to go back to his ex. The worst part? He started comparing her to the girl. The way she spoke, the way she played with her hair, even her smile, everything was identical to his ex-girlfriend.

It was enough for Y/n to realize that he was definitely not ready to move on. So before dessert arrived, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

"Look... I hope you can get over your ex one day. But I'm not her, and you clearly don't want to be here with me. Good luck."

She left without looking back, ignoring any protests he might make.

As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk, he took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the frustration of the encounter. But when he looked up, he saw a car parked on the other side of the street.

A car that looked absurdly familiar.

She frowned and walked closer. When she saw who was behind the wheel, she laughed in surprise and knocked on the window.

Ollie smiled from inside and unlocked the doors. Y/n quickly got into the car and turned to him.

"What are you doing here?" She raised her eyebrows. "I haven't even had time to call for help yet!"

Ollie chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. "My parents ordered dinner from this restaurant. I came to pick it up." He then gave her an amused look. "But then I saw you sitting inside with a panicked look on your face. I decided to wait, because I was sure that in a matter of minutes you would either come out or send a message asking for rescue."

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise. "You know me too well."

"It's a gift." Ollie shrugged, smiling.

She was silent for a second, her heart pounding. She wanted so badly to tell him. To tell him that, since childhood, he had been her favorite person. That, through all these failed dates, the only constant was him.

So instead he just smiled.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

"What was the problem this time?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still smiling.

Y/n snorted, leaning her head back against the bench. "He couldn't stop talking about his ex. From the beginning to the end of dinner."

Ollie grimaced. "Really?"

"Seriously. And not only that! He compared me to her all the time. He said that the way I moved my hair reminded him of her, that my smile was just like hers, that even my voice sounded like hers."

"For God's sake." The pilot's mouth fell open in shock.

"I know!" Y/n threw her hands up. "Like, why did he go out with me? He's clearly still in love with her!"

Ollie laughed, shaking his head. "You have a magnet for bad dates. I told you!"

"I'm starting to think so." She laughed, turning to him. "I think I'll stop trying for a while."

Ollie looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead, he just drove on and smiled.

"Good idea. And anyway, you don't need dates when you already have the most amazing best friend in the world to save you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart race.

Maybe one day she would finally be able to tell him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Last Failed Date.

The meeting wasn't bad. The guy was nice, handsome, polite and even funny. They had fluid conversations, laughed at the same things, and Y/n almost allowed herself to believe that it could finally work out.

But with every laugh, every witty comment, she realized she was comparing everything to Ollie.

The way he told jokes. The way he moved his hair, his voice, his jokes. Gosh, even physically, he reminded me a little of Ollie.

And it was there, in the middle of dinner, that everything became clear.

What she was looking for was always right beside her.

She put the glass down on the table with a sigh and looked at the boy in front of her.

"Look... I need to be honest with you."

"Go ahead." He raised his eyebrows curiously.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're an amazing, kind, polite, and thoughtful guy. But there's someone... someone I need to see right now. I need to tell them how I feel before it's too late. I'm sorry."

He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I'm glad you realized that on the first date, so my heart doesn't break as much."

"I'm sorry, again." Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

"No need to apologize." He shrugged. "Good luck with your love!" He smiled, genuinely rooting for her.

Y/n smiled, paid her share and left the restaurant, her heart racing.

All the way to Ollie's apartment, her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. How would he react? What if it was too late? What if she had misinterpreted everything?

But one thing was certain, she had to try.

When she arrived at the building, the receptionist just smiled and let her pass without needing to tell him; she was already as much a part of that place as Ollie.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door.

When Ollie opened it, his eyes widened to see her there, crying softly, with her hands in the pocket of her denim jacket and her makeup slightly smudged.

"Y/n?" He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her lightly inside, closing the door behind them. "What happened? Did he do something to you? Because if he did, I swear I-"

"No, no!" Y/n shook her head quickly, wiping away a tear. "Nothing bad happened. The date was good, the guy was sweet, but..." She took a deep breath, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. "I left because I realized I love someone else."

Ollie froze. His heart stopped for a second, dreading hearing another guy's name leave her lips. But then, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and looked deep into his eyes, tears starting to fall again.

"The man I love has known me since I was a child. He knows when I'm having a bad day, knows exactly what to do to cheer me up. He takes me on runs, lends me his sweatshirts, takes care of me when my parents are away on business..." Ollie held his breath, his heart hammering. "He's my best friend..."

The last sentence came out in a whisper, full of emotion.

Ollie's eyes lit up. One second his hands were on her face, and the next he was pulling her into a kiss.

It was soft, tender, but at the same time full of urgency, as if they had both been waiting for this for years. Between one kiss and another, smiles formed, hands clasped, as if they wanted to be sure that it was real.

When they broke apart, Ollie rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

"I've loved you since I was little," he confessed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "It hurt to see you go out with all those guys, but I was relieved when it didn't work out because I knew you'd come back to me. I always wanted to take care of you like you were my own."

Y/n smiled, her hands wrapping around his neck. "I've always been yours, I just didn't realize it before. But I'm here now, and forever. You just have to want it too."

Ollie smiled, his eyes full of love. "I want you today, tomorrow and always."

And then he kissed her again, finally sealing everything that had always been there.

Y/n's hands slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth and familiarity that had always been there, but now with a completely different meaning. Ollie sighed against her lips, smiling between one kiss and another, as if he couldn't believe that this was really happening.

But now, there was no more hesitation, just the certainty that they were finally where they were supposed to be.

[postcardsfromheapside]

So I finished my DA2 replay, and I had wondered if I would feel differently after taking my time with it, and with the perspective of Veilguard. And yes, in small ways I do, but about the series and about Anders, I don't. That is to say: I think Veilguard is a fucking fantastic capper to the series (I mean, pray there is more, "hope for the best, expect the worst" as the Mel Brooks song goes), and Anders is relatably angry, even if the "betrayal" is frustrating and heart-breaking.

Also, there's just too much Dragon Age just the same way there's too much Tolkien, it's just that I can relisten to Tolkien via audiobook while I work and don't have time to constantly replay Dragon Age to absorb every little detail that my broken brain forgets (and I'm pretty good with lore) and I wish parts of this fandom were more curious than scathing about things they've obviously forgotten. Or skipped through, according to some of them, because I guess the context of dialogue and a cut scene isn't necessary for some of them to weigh in on things.

Word vomit of notes below the break:

First of all.

Can these two just fuck already. Watching Cassandra go from throwing him around to absolutely ENTHRALLED by Varric's complete bullshit is just going to make it so much better when I hit the "Guilty Pleasures" quest again in DA:I. This woman is SEDUCED by his story-telling, and you *cannot* convince me he wasn't gagging on his power trip.

Second.

I never played Mark of the Assassin before, and had completely forgotten Felicia Day was in DA2, and laughed like hell. I really enjoyed it. I haven't really used a stealth option in a game since leaving Skyrim for other stuff (do we ever really leave Skyrim?) and it was really fun, but I think the wyvern at the end of the DLC was actually the best fight in the entire game, even more than Corypheus. It hinted at the dragon battles to come in Veilguard. Also, I loved how Anders' dialogue got more relaxed outside of Kirkwall, like shedding the city let him loosen up. The back and forth with Hawke about his fantasy for being rescued was completely unhinged - after I accused Hawke of being feral and lacking social graces, I've decided the two of them match each other's freak and they're fine.

Third.

All the people who were losing their minds about the line "A crow never abandons a contract" and acting like the devs forgot Zevran.

He literally addresses it in the game. I keep having these moments where shit that people bitched about regarding Veilguard is addressed right *there.*

"The crows do like saying that, but I am living proof it's a lie."

No one actually forgot, but I'm sure the Dellamorte's wish to the Maker a motherfucker could.

When people complain the writing in Veilguard is too modern, I'm going to remember Hawke complaining exactly like this. She sounds like I do when I'm side-eyeing my friends in the year of our Maker 2025.

Fourth.

I had planned on romancing Blackwall this DA:I run, finally, because I'm a little obsessed with this Warden throughline from Anders to Blackwall to Davrin. From a cage, to hope/redemption, to a more meaningful path of positive change and impact.

They both haunt Veilguard's narrative and dialogue.

And then of course:

hrm.

Fifth.

I do hope we get another DA. Or supplementary material. Because I want to know what the fuck is going on with this story I had forgotten the details of, especially with the decision regarding the Nadas Dirthalen.

These two fucking idiots. I can't believe in different lives I've schtupped them both. (I can absolutely believe it)

Sixth.

The worst part of Meredith is she sounds like conservative family members of mine. 'Better to punish the innocent than risk even one guilty person go free', rather than the opposite. To them it sounds so reasonable. To us, it's abhorrent to punish everyone else for other people's crimes.

I couldn't bring myself to feel betrayed by Anders, even though I tried to play my Hawke as I think she would have felt: betrayed by the secret-keeping, if nothing else. The shock and hurt at the innocent lives. But it's hard not to feel an understanding when I sit here in a political situation with - maybe not less fraught, but at least less fantastical - implications and certainly still feel like violence is inevitable and we are way past the point of compromise and words.

Anyway.

This dwarf.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

I chose an alternate prompt for Day Nine of Bucktommy Fluffebruary: Drunken Love Confessions. Tommy's is really the prompt filling one, but everyone feels the love in this Chili's tonight. I realized I completely forgot this entire time that Melton is a Captain, so I've been writing him as just one of the other firefighters and made up some guy named Bryant that I mention in at least one other prompt fill. Melton bb I'm so sorry. You'll get that promotion soon. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary.

A joint bachelor party had been Tommy’s idea, because they’d fought over who got who as a guest for about five minutes before Tommy realized they had almost all the same friends. So why bother splitting the party up?

Maddie, Eddie, and Sal organize it as Evan’s co-Best Man and Woman and Tommy’s Best Man, and it turns into a bar crawl with a couple stops at places to get real food with a karaoke spot as their final destination. That had been Howie’s touch, because he felt guilty for missing the last karaoke bachelor party even though it was through no fault of his own. Plus, who doesn’t like karaoke?

The thing is, the last bar had been a tiki place, and tiki drinks are strong, so they’re all messes by the time they reach the karaoke place. Tommy claims a corner of the couch and pulls Evan into his lap when his fiancé passes by.

“You’re so-o pretty,” Tommy says, because Evan is so pretty. No one prettier has ever existed, and it’s a thought he’s had while he was sober, so it’s true.

“You’re pretty,” Evan counters, cupping his chin and squeezing so Tommy’s lips pucker. When Evan kisses him, it’s sloppy and probably not appropriate for their friends and family, but it’s a bachelor party. It’s two bachelor parties, actually they’re supposed to have double the debauchery.

“Are you gonna give me a lapdance later?” Tommy asks, squeezing his hip.

“Maybe,” Evan says, licking his lips, and Tommy watches his tongue raptly. He wants to chase it with his own, wants to feel it trace along his—

“Oh, my god, I’m going to dump water on you two in a minute,” Karen says, plopping down next to them. “Which one of you is singing with me?”

“Me,” Tommy says, grinning at her. He loves singing with Karen. She’s one of the best singers he’s ever met in his life, so he likes being around her when she sings. He’s not very good, but she doesn’t judge him.

“My Sonny,” she coos, pinching his cheek.

“My Cher,” he sighs.

Sonny Bono was known for two things: being Italian and not being as good a singer as Cher. Well, he was known for other things, too, but that isn’t relevant to Tommy’s situation. He doesn't plan on becoming a Republican, the mayor of Palm Springs, or a U.S. Representative. He does, however, plan on doing his best to croon along with Karen to “I Got You Babe” or “All I Ever Need Is You,” because she gets to belt more lines in that one and he wants to show her off.

There’s a bit of hubbub near the door to their suite, and then Bobby and Athena appear with a cake between them to a lot of cheers. They hadn’t joined them on the bar crawl, because Athena had said it would feel too much like Mom and Dad crashing their kids’ party. Tommy’s delighted to see them, because he hadn’t been expecting them at all. He and Evan cheer, and Evan wobbles out of his lap to hug them as soon as the cake is set on the table. Tommy gets hauled up by Hen so he can do the same thing, because the couch is deep and he is tall and drunk.

“You good?” Hen asks, and Tommy squeezes the back of her neck with a laugh.

“I'm great,” he says, leaving a wet kiss on her cheek.

Hen laughs and holds his head in place so she can do the same, and they end up simultaneously wiping slobber off their cheeks and giggling together on their way over to Bobby and Athena.

He’s gotten really close with Bobby and Athena ever since he and Evan got back together, but he’s not really a hugger with them. He is, however, drunk enough that it seems like a great time to turn into one. As he’s enveloped in Bobby’s arms and then stoops to have Athena do the same, he thinks it’s a good thing to keep going.

“Don’t be too happy to see us yet,” Athena warns, nodding toward the cake. “Hen ordered it.”

“I'm always happy to see a cake,” Tommy says, grinning. When he finally gets a good look at it, though, he bursts out laughing.

It’s unbelievably stupid, and Tommy whips out his phone to take several photos from many different angles, including one of Evan crouched next to it with his tongue near the one that’s shaped—presumably—like Tommy’s ass. It's one of those molded sexy cakes, and it’s two shapely naked asses seen under the hem of non-regulation turnout jackets—they’d never sit that high—with each of their names “sewn” on the hem. Each of their surnames has been added to the other to make it look like it’s handwritten into the correct spot to make them say “Buckley-Kinard.”

He loves it.

He loves everyone in this room so much.

“We should've had this be the wedding cake,” Evan says as he slips his arm around Tommy's waist. They pose next to the cake for pictures.

“Looks like I get to eat your ass twice tonight,” Tommy murmurs through his teeth as Howie takes their picture.

Howie bursts out laughing and shows them the picture. Evan’s face is caught between a grin and surprise, so his eyebrows are up near his hairline and his face is bright red.

“The hell did you say to him, BK?” Lucy asks, elbowing him.

“Not telling,” Tommy says, hugging his fiancé like a teddy bear. “She started calling me that last week. Know why?”

“It's your new last name initials in a week?” Evan guesses, because he's smart. He's so smart and pretty, and Tommy is the luckiest guy in the world.

“Yeah,” he confirms with a happy sigh, getting caught in his fiancé’s eyes for a moment.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Sal says on the microphone, even though they’re in a small room and everyone could hear him if he just raised his voice enough, “I’d like to say a couple words, because there’s some stuff I can’t say in my Best Man speech. Such as: is anyone else dreading having to knock real loud going into every room these two are in for the next few months?”

“We already do that!” Ravi calls, and Tommy buries his face in his hands to hide his flushed, embarrassed giggles. Evan tightens his arms around him and kisses under his ear with a breathless giggle of his own.

“Seriously, I’ve started bringing earplugs if I’m going to crash in their guest room,” Sal adds, grinning. “I haven’t seen two people so into each other since I met Gina and got charged with public indecency twice—”

“Should’ve been three times,” Athena adds.

He points to her and grins. “And I thank you for that, Sarge. But it’s bad enough that I’ve had to start putting fuckin’ blinders on whenever Tommy opens his phone around me—well done, Buckley, by the way, you got a real eye for photography—but they’re also so in love with each other that it makes the rest of us look bad. I can only hope that they chill out in the next fifty years, but we all know we’re still going to be loudly announcing ourselves before we turn a corner even when they’re retired.

“So congratulations, boys, on finding true love, holding onto it, and never letting go of it,” he continues, his grin widening. “And never letting go of other things, apparently. To Tommy and Buck!”

Everyone cheers and echoes his toast, and Tommy is never going to be able to look any of them in the eye again.

“We’re not that bad, are we?” he asks, and Evan laughs loudly in his ear.

“Baby, we’re worse.” He nuzzles his cheek and murmurs, “They don’t even know what we get up to in our own house.”

Tommy bites his lip and is about to respond when he hears Sal call, “See what I mean?”

“Shut up,” Tommy says, throwing a balled up napkin at him. “Maddie, would you like to make an inappropriate speech?”

“I’m alright,” she says, grinning. “I changed Buck’s diapers, so it would be a little weird. Also, I make a lot of noise when I’m in your house for a reason. I don’t need to see all that.”

“I told you!” Evan says to Tommy, who had believed that Maddie was just comfortable at their house.

“Eddie?” Sal offers, and Eddie comes up to the platform acting as the stage, looping an arm around Sal’s shoulders.

“This guy is right,” he says, nodding toward Sal. “But he doesn’t have to work with Buck. So let me tell you all about how I walked in on these two Facetiming while Buck was in the showers. Thankfully, Buck’s got waterproof earbuds. Unfortunately, I could still hear him speak.”

“Oh no,” Evan groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Eddie, you said you were going to be washing the engine.”

“Yeah, and then Joey from B-shift kindly offered to do it instead, so I wandered my happy ass into the showers and heard my best friend complain, ‘But it won’t fit,’” he says, his voice taking on a high, breathy quality. “And then: ‘You’re going to have to force it.’ So I, being a family man—shut up, Chimney—loudly announced myself to the room, because what if Cap walked in? What if Hen walked in? What if literally anyone walked in?”

“Should I be hearing this?” Maddie asks.

“And I hear Buck call, ‘Hey, Eddie, Tommy might need you to help him drop in this transmission after work if you’re free,’” Eddie says flatly, and the whole room erupts in laughter. “And, yes, I did help, because that Chevelle was beautiful. Do I believe that they were actually talking about a transmission? I do, because otherwise I’d need to pour bleach in my ears. Is it very telling that I genuinely thought they’d get up to that kind of thing at literally any time of day when one or both of them is working? Yeah, a little. You guys are unbelievable. I love you both, I can’t wait to be there for you guys when you get married. I thank you for including my son in your ceremony, because he loves both of you more than you’ll ever know, but keep it PG around the kid, okay?”

“We always do!” Evan protests.

“No, we do,” Tommy agrees quickly as Eddie comes to them for hugs. “I promise.”

“Oh, I know, or I’d be making you answer whatever questions he’d be asking,” Eddie says, patting his cheek.

“Let’s get a groom up here,” Sal says to a round of cheers.

“Alright,” Tommy says, kissing Evan before going to Sal and grabbing the mic. “Alright, I get it, we’ll—well, I’m sorry, I can’t make any promises other than ‘we’ll try.’ But—Sal, sit down, you mook—I swear we don’t mean to be that bad. Anyway, I am not standing here to defend our very healthy and normal attraction to each other—”

“Oh, my god,” Evan says, burying his face in his hands as Eddie cackles next to him.

“—I’m here to thank you all for putting up with us,” Tommy says, looking out at the grinning faces of everyone he loves, even though they’re all a little blurry. “And for being there for us through everything, good and bad, and being people we can go to when things are bad or I’m freaking out about proposing or whatever it is I’m freaking out about at the time. I love you guys so much. You’re all amazing and wonderful, and sometimes I have to remind myself this isn’t a dream, because you’re the family I always wanted but didn’t think I’d get. So, thank you. I love you, thank you for being here and for always being there for us. Someone please take this microphone from me.”

Howie rushes the platform to hug him around the middle, and then Maddie, Karen, Hen, Lucy, Ravi, Melton, Eddie, and Sal follow until Tommy is in the center of a group hug. He can see over almost everyone’s heads, and so he can see the way Evan’s beaming at him with tear-filled eyes and the way that Bobby and Athena go to either side of his fiancé to put an arm around him and smile at Tommy, too.

There’s a chorus of “We love you”s from everyone, and then Tommy wrestles his arm free so he can bring the mic to his lips.

“Alright, who’s first on the list?” he asks.

“Me!” Lucy calls, making grabby hands for the mic.

He hands it off and detangles himself from the group so he can go to the three people standing off to the side.

“Liquid courage?” Athena guesses, patting his cheek with a fond smile.

“Yeah, a little,” Tommy admits, grinning. “That obvious?”

She snorts and fixes him with a knowing look. “Only to anyone with eyes.”

He gets a tight hug from a damp-eyed Bobby, who gruffly tells him he's proud of him and that he loves him, too. Tommy kind of sags against him for a second before getting a full-bodied hug from Athena that shouldn’t make him feel so small, and then there’s Evan in front of him.

“I love you,” Tommy says, his insides gooey and molten like they always are when Evan’s smiling at him like that. “Most of all.”

Evan steps into his space and puts his arms around him, crossing his wrists behind Tommy’s neck. “I love you most of all, too. You’re so drunk, babe.”

“I am.” He hugs Evan around the middle and rubs his cheek on the soft sweater he’s wearing. It feels nice. “Do we really scar them that much?”

Evan’s body shakes against his with laughter. “Yeah, I think we do.”

“Should we stop?”

“Nah, we’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Kids’ll probably slow us down.”

Tommy melts against Evan, letting him take his entire weight. Kids. They’ll have kids one day, and maybe grandkids, and he’s going to be scared out of his mind that he’s going to fuck them up and he has an entire group of people to turn to when that happens. It takes a village, and he has one. He knows he’s crying, but they’re happy tears. His face is also hidden in Evan’s neck, so no one can see.

But he doesn’t really care if they do. They’re family. Family cries around each other and doesn’t judge. Real families, at least, like theirs.

He sways with Evan to the sound of Ravi and Lucy wailing “Don’t You Want Me” by Human League into their microphones, and he feels something deep inside his heart finally heal.

–