#would y’all do a bedding ceremony be honest
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Are we ready to talk about a bedding ceremony with the Stark men? ARE WE READY-?! Oh my-🥴 I think the boys wouldn't be happy about the prospect of sharing the view 🫠 but, but, BUT the sounds are something else 👀
OOOOOOOH UR TICKLING MY BRAIN RN. phew ok lemme calm down
shoot me but i feel like cregan would be a bit indifferent about it. one one hand, it’s tradition & he knows it’s pretty expected of you both, since cregan is lord of winterfell. but on the other hand, cregan wants everyone to respect you just as much as they respect him, & he doesn’t wish to strip you of your dignity. i feel like he’d seek out a conversation with you about it to see what you want to do. if you agree to it/don’t mind it, then he’ll tolerate it for your sake. but if you don’t want to, he’s quick to shut it down. anyone that has a problem with it can take it up with the complaints department (ice).
robb would be more leaning towards the idea of a bedding ceremony i think. it honestly depends on which time in his life you’re getting married. if you’re getting married at winterfell before everything happened — he’s still got that boyish kind of view about life, so he would lean more towards having one. if you got married during the war, there wouldn’t even be a ceremony 😭 but if you got married like after the war (the starks won au or smth) he would be against it. however, if you really wanted one, you could talk him into it. anyways, regardless of the time in his life, if you didn’t want one he wouldn’t force it on you, and he would certainly never make you feel bad about it.
jon would definitely be against it. for him, marriage (& “the act”) is super personal. in his opinion it’s sacred, and he wouldn’t ever put you up as a spectacle for others to see. he’d definitely plan you consummating the marriage strategically, waiting until everyone’s too drunk to notice you both have left. northmen drink hard, and they’ll be too busy arm wrestling & throwing up on each other to busy themselves with the fact that you both have risen from your seats, and jon has a hand on the small of your back leading you to your chambers. and honestly, i could see y’all not having an entire ceremony too. maybe going for something small in the godswood… i’m not sure. i can really see it going either way tbh.
#game of thrones#house of the dragon#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#robb stark#robb stark x reader#jon snow#jon snow x reader#dippys asks#this is my very real very professional opinion#would y’all do a bedding ceremony be honest#i would definitely not#but hey!#to each their own
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S/o pampering the slashers + Vincent , they come home and the s/o prepared a bath and cook them dinner.
Y/n Spoiling Their Slasher
Ooh funn! Sometimes these poor bois need extra love 🥺💞
Thomas:
- He would be a flustered baby from the beginning🥺
- He would feel bad that you’re doing this stuff for him and would feel a bit awkward since he’s so used to being the provider, that he wouldn’t really know how to act 🌼
- He clings to you for guidance, because being so relaxed and spoiled like this feels like a crime to him. And that breaks my heart.
- You end up being the mother hen, coaxing him and cooing at him as he looks up at you as if you're an angel. He'll lower himself into the bath and hold onto your hand, falling into a pit of pure love for you. You are literally his angel and you are GLOWING in his eyes💕
- when you give him a special dinner, he eats it happily and offers to share almost everything with you. It's like he's mostly concerned with what's on your plate instead of his, glancing over and making sure you're enjoying yourself. He can't help it though, it's completely second nature to him 💫💖
He is still hesitant to let himself be comfortable because he has literally never had anything like this ever in his life. He still looks to you for guidance and you tell him that you won't make him do anything he's not comfortable with.
- You both end the night with him clinging to you, buried his face in your stomach with his arms wrapped around your hips. He repeats in his mind that he doesn't deserve an angel like you until he falls asleep, dreaming about you. This boy is lovesick. 💕
Jason
- Jason would just full on melt. He already knew how kind and loving you could be, and honestly isn't too surprised that you would do this. He nevertheless of course, puts his masked-face on your temple in the form of a kiss, and strokes your ear as a thank you💗
- Big boy doesn't waste a minute, he's stripped and ready to dive in. He definitely did NOT expect you to come over there and help him wash. Unsurprisingly he got bashful and looked away as you lovingly scratched his shoulders and unknotted his huge biceps and neck. He ends up going slack in the tub from how good it feels. 😊
- His eyes don't leave you most of the time. He looks away bashfully when you glance at him or smile at him, and his heart is just a fluttery mess at you. When you courteously look away when he steps out of the bath, you direct him to a big meal you made <3
- He has no idea where to start he is a trainwreck at just eating a mf meal. You smile encouragingly at him as he delicately uses his fork (which looks like a toothpick in his hands) and eats like he's at the queen's reception ceremony. He is SO polite. Uses a napkin and everything.
- I canon that he was ALWAYS hungry pre-zombie phase, and could literally eat 5 horses in one sitting (a weird visual but--) he signs to you asking what you were going to eat, and will literally fight with you about you taking his plate if you haven't eaten yet. 💖😤
- hes a babe
Michael
- this bitch. you already know bae.
- He would refuse the bath because he finds it weird that he would bathe in a bath you made him (im confused too dw) He will stand there, his 7 ft tall ass, shaking his head at you no.
- you somehow end up getting in the bath with him because that was the only chance he would take the bath-- with you literally stuck to him as he drags you around like a pool noodle 🥲
- he might initiate funky time but probably not. he just wants to be clean tbh. He spends the entire bath time smelling your hair as he doesn't allow you to move for a good 10 minutes. He strokes your neck though which is nice 💖
- after you guys both leave the bath, he is still carrying you like a purse, but lets you at least put on a towel so you're not sitting naked at the dinner table.
- He's really touchy tonight, and it's mostly because he's filled to the rim with love for you. 💗He expresses it with roughhousing though and handling you like a ragdoll. He does NOT mean to hurt you though and will be gentle if you tell him to cut it out.
- He eats absolutely everything on his plate gratefully, again, doesn't express it in the most civil way, but he appreciates it (surprisingly). He actually might eat from your plate, you can't tell me this 7 ft giant doesn't run on five rotisserie chickens a day.
Bo Sinclair
- I literally didn't even want to write for this dude. He is an asshole. But he's a hot asshole with daddy vibes so here we are 😤💗
- I would never expect Bo to worship you in return for you doing this for him. There are some things he will boast and tease you about being a swoon for him, being obsessed over him and whatnot~~~ But stuff like this is a little too much for that. It almost touches him. Almost💘
- He initially just doesn't know what to say. He loves you, that’s obvious. So he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying the wrong thing (which he does ALL THE TIME) so he's going to be uncharacteristically non hyper-verbal
- When you tell him you have a bath running for him upstairs, he'll think you're joking at first. When it becomes obvious that you're not, you lead him to it, and he looks at you when you're not looking and there's a slight of affection in them🌼
- He offers to share the bath with you, with a glint in his eye and that velvety smooth tone of his. This makes you blush furiously and become shy, which eggs him on. It’s completely up to you though, heh, because this will in fact lead to the sex
- afterwards he may drag you over to the bed to sleep~~~ until you tell him you have dinner waiting for him, and he is a fucking s l u t for food after funky time ✨
- now here he definitely teases you. “you’re practically worshipping me, doll. how am I supposed to treat you now?” What we’re you expecting? but internally he’s bursting at the seams and he’s very touched. 💖Probably to the point where he’s uncomfortable and will either be very quiet (he has no idea what to say) or he’ll tease the shit out of you as a coping mechanism.
- he eats like a normal person unlike everyone else here (and maybe Vincent) going on about his day where you listen patiently with a smile on your face ☺️
- Then when in bed, with his back facing you, he’ll very quietly thank you for doing this for him, because Lord knows he needed it. He’s very thankful 💖
Vincent Sinclair
- all signs of responsiveness is cut. I mean, he’s the tiniest bit of smug if I’m raw honest. He was the golden child out of the two when he was younger and even if Bo is top dog in Ambrose, the feeling of deserving more than he does is still there. Which he DOES 😭💖
- He’s in absolutely no way like Bo. Bo is a smug ass who doesn’t listen to anyone (who we stan btw), but he’s still touched to the core.💖 You didn’t need to do this, you wanted to
- he knew he was worthy of being loved. He knew Bo wasn’t going to hold him down forever. he’s felt he needed this for the longest time. He wants to beat Bo; ~~~
- and when the prettiest, sweetest angel is at his feet pampering him, he just knows how jealous Bo is. 💘😭 Anyway SORRY I’m rambling~~ I feel like Vinny would be too scared to go into the bath himself and would have you sit on a stool beside him.
- he’ll be signing to you the entire time he’s in the bath~~ about anything and everything. He’s just so emotionally connected to you, he can’t help but spill his thoughts 🥺
- you both would eat your dinner in his room, probably on his bed as you share ideas about sculpting and life Bring a laptop so y’all can watch Netflix together ✨
- he’d want to make love to you after but that depends on how shy he’s feeling. It would probably be gentle and devoid of much lust, only love🥺💓
#slashers#slashers x reader#i made a thing#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#Thomas headcanons#Thomas Hewitt imagines#Jason Vorhees#Jason Vorhees x reader#Jason Vorhees headcanons#Jason Vorhees imagines#michael myers#Michael Myers x reader#Michael Myers headcanons#Michael Myers imagines#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair headcanons#bo sinclair imagine#Vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair headcanons#Vincent sinclair imagines#vincent sinclair x reader
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from one kid to another
w/c: 6.0k
warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times
summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own
a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves
-
there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.
depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.
you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.
your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.
two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.
where do you go from here?
the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.
the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.
no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.
but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.
tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.
you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.
tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.
you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.
most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.
he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.
“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.
tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”
from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.
the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.
thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.
you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?
tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.
you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.
the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.
he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.
he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.
whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.
sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.
tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.
when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.
he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.
it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.
you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.
flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.
you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.
he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.
neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.
sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.
“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.
you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.
tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.
“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.
not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.
he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.
the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.
halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.
you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.
you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...
“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.
you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?
the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.
“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.
“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.
“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.
you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.
the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.
since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.
there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.
you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”
you’re about to cry in three, two...
“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.
“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”
harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.
the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.
“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.
“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.
he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.
his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.
“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”
“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.
“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.
he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.
“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.
“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.
“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”
yeah, really shitty ones.
“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.
you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.
the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.
it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.
“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.
tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.
“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.
“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.
thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”
you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”
oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?
you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.
the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...
while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.
he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.
saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.
“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.
tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.
“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“
“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.
“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.
“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”
“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.
“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.
“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”
the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.
“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.
“forever.”
-
you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.
despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.
tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.
he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.
you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.
to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.
you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.
all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.
“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.
“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.
“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.
#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland au#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#marvel
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Fanfic:: Souls & Tails Entwined
Luke was usually more in control of his body language, but he couldn’t help the way his tail stood on end and shook behind him, casting a jittery shadow in the setting sun.
He was allowed to be excited on his wedding day, after all.
AO3 Link
I’ll be honest I almost made this anon because it’s so self indulgent and absolutely not what I should be writing right now, but fuck it. One day I’ll finish those dinluke WIPs I’ve been writing since March, but for now, y’all are getting a catboy wedding!
-=-
Luke was usually more in control of his body language, but he couldn’t help the way his tail stood on end and shook behind him, casting a jittery shadow in the setting sun.
He was allowed to be excited on his wedding day, after all.
He didn’t know it was to be his wedding when he woke up, however. His day had started as normal, waking up to a keldabe kiss against the cold metal of Din’s helmet. That was the last moment of peace either of them got until they managed to corral the younglings out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast. He and Din didn’t get the chance to have their own breakfast until the kids ran out to enjoy early morning playtime “supervised” by Artoo.
It was then, with Luke blindfolded so Din could enjoy the cup of caf that was brewing, that Din had taken his hand and asked him, as simple as he could be.
“Luke? Will you marry me?”
And after a year of conversation, prying back their layers, meditation on the meaning of attachments, well, how else could Luke react?
“Yes!”
They had a few minutes to plan by themselves. They agreed to wait until that evening, when the kids would be too tired to get in the way and the Yavin sun bathed the Temple in gorgeous red-orange light.
It was only after spending the day half-paying attention to his surroundings had he realized the error of that plan. He hadn’t been able to focus on meditating and had focused on his student’s forms instead. Whenever he heard the telltale clink of beskar, his ears flicked erratically until he gave into the urge to look and see Din walking by. He felt like he was a farm boy on Tatooine again as he smiled, face flushing as Din nodded, sharp and jerky. The interaction was no different than every other day of running the school by Din’s side, but it felt different.
The kids had to say his name three times to get his attention back on the lesson.
But now, it was time. The kids were all sleepy after dinner, most reading or piling up on the count to watch a holo-documentary. Luke was just pacing back and forth in front of the Temple, waiting for Din to come back with Grogu. He wanted his son there for the ceremony and Luke was only happy to acquiesce.
Luke brushed off his robes, only then realizing he hadn’t changed. His pants were covered in dirt, the hem of his cloak gathering the worst of it.
He barely had time to comb his fingers through his hair to tame it before his ears flicked back. He turned to the sound of approaching footsteps to see Din returning with a squirming Grogu. He could see Din’s own sleek dark gray tail bumping under his cape. Grogu cooed loudly, and Luke looked up and smiled at the two of them.
Din stopped a step away from him. As impressive as he looked in his armor, Luke took a little solace in the holes at the bottom of his cape and the sticky handprint on the piece of armor strapped to his leg.
Neither of them needed to look their best for their wedding. All they needed was each other.
“So… do you want to do this in Mando’a?”
Din tilted his head. “Do you know Mando’a?”
Luke felt the tips of his ears warm up. “I… might’ve looked it up during lunch.”
Din gave a short laugh that made Luke’s heart pound a little harder.
“It’s okay. I only know the Resol’nare. We can say it in Basic.”
“Okay… how do we do this?”
Din shifted his hold on Grogu so he could take one of Luke’s hands.
“Just repeat after me. We are one when together.”
Luke nodded. “We are one when together.”
“We are one when parted.”
Luke could feel his breaths grow deep as emotion clogged his throat. “We are one when parted.”
“We will share all.”
“We will share all.”
Din squeezed his hand as he said the last vow. “We will raise warriors."
He had to whisper the last line. “We will raise warriors."
Everything seemed to settle as the silence fell between them, like the universe made right. Luke was going to linger on the feeling, savor it so he could meditate on it and never forget it, when Din let go of his hand to hold onto Grogu.
“Here, hold him for a moment.”
Luke took Grogu automatically, not realizing what Din was doing until he had both hands on his helmet.
“Wait!” Luke exclaimed, pausing Din in his movements. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I mean, I want to see your face, but only if you want to.”
Din lowered his arms just to gently hold the back of Luke’s head. “Can’t you read my mind with the Force?”
Luke huffed out a laugh. “You know I can’t do that.”
“But you can tell though, that I want to show you, right?”
He was right. The Force radiated reassurance off of him. He wasn’t doing this for Luke, he wanted to do it.
Luke nodded, hitching Grogu up higher in his arms.
Din lifted his helmet and the breath caught in his throat.
Dark brown eyes, curly brown hair, and a mustache that made Luke smile.
“Maker, Din, I-”
He cut himself off as he caught slight movement in Din’s curls.
“You can touch,” Din said. “Just… they’re sensitive.”
Luke nodded before bringing a hand up to Din’s head. He found the extra soft fur surrounding the ears. They were dark gray like his tail, but folded over so the tips touched his skull. He gently stroked the base of one and saw Din’s shoulder’s twitch in a shiver.
“Oh, you poor thing. Are they uncomfortable in the helmet?”
“No, they grew in like that. It’s cramped but doesn’t hurt.”
Luke nodded absentmindedly, still feeling around the top of his head. Din leaned into his touch, eyes closed.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, just… sensitive.”
“If you want to touch mine, you can.”
“But I already have.”
“Well, then you can again.”
Din rolled his eyes – and Luke could see that now – but his gloved hand still found its way to Luke’s ears. He let out a slight purr as Din touched them. He was gentler than most, but he didn’t treat them like he was made of glass. Luke was just used to the ruffling and scratching of Han and Chewie and Leia tugging on them to get his attention. Din gently folded his ears in his hand when giving Luke’s ears attention.
He felt Grogu shift in his arms as he climbed up on his shoulder, pulling at his cloak to reach Luke’s other ear. He winced a little at the tiny claws, but the children were all getting better at handling his ears.
Din cracked open his eyes, shining with quiet joy, and was about to say something when they both heard Artoo’s screeching from the Temple. They both turned and saw Artoo covered in younglings who wanted a ride.
Grogu saw as well and started wiggling to escape and join them. Luke put him down and watched as he toddled away.
They turned to each other, a small smile on both of their faces.
“Pick this up tonight?” Din asked.
“Whatever you say, husband.”
Artoo screeched again and Luke shook his head fondly. He walked back to the Temple before stopping in his tracks.
“Oh, I nearly forgot!” He said, jogging back.
Din was halfway to putting his helmet back on, but his wide brown eyes met Luke’s in an instant - and oh, he was utterly charmed by them.
“What?”
Luke pressed a gentle kiss to Din’s cheek. He turned to move but was held in place by Din’s arm.
“I think we can do better on our wedding.”
Luke grinned before they both moved in close for a kiss. He cupped his hands over Din’s cheeks, letting his thumbs stroke over Din’s beard. Din’s arms wrapped around his waist, landing just above Luke’s tail, which stood straight up.
Din’s sharp teeth as he bit into Luke’s lip. It lit a fire in his gut and he pulled Din closer, cupping the back of his head. The purred in tandem, deep vibrations coming from their chests that just made them clutch at each other tighter.
Artoo let out another screech, more persistent this time. They pulled back as Luke started laughing. Din kept his mirth to himself, but Luke could see in those expressive eyes that he found the droid amusing.
“Tonight?” Luke asked, a touch out of breath.
“Tonight,” Din said, voice deeper than normal.
Luke pressed one more kiss to Din’s lips before taking his hand and walking back to the Temple with him. Din slipped his helmet back on.
Not a wedding he had anticipated by any means, but one long worth waiting for.
#dinluke#skydalorian#din/luke#luke skywalker x din djarin#luke/din#tooka luke skywalker#catboy din djarin#this is just fluff because thats what i write we should know this by now#now if youll excuse me im gonna hope my IRL friend who follows me never brings this fic up ever#god bless her lack of interest in the mandalorian#kappa writes#my fanfic
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“Just One More Night” Part Two
Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series
hi everyone! i really hope you enjoy part two, it’s kind of lengthy i’ll admit. i’m having so much fun with this series so far and i wanna thank y’all for being along on the ride. y’all are the best 🤍
without further ado, onto the story!
content warnings: cursing, heated making out, mentions of pain
-
Four months later...
The first of many alarms on your phone woke you from your sleep with a small jolt. Today was the day; the day you’d worked towards for four years. Graduation day. Your brain was already buzzing despite only being awake for several seconds. Your fingers clicked the power button on your phone like muscle memory, silencing the alarm.
Just as almost every morning, there was one person on your mind: Aaron Hotchner. It had been four months since you had sex with him for the first time, and you’d been meeting up almost every week unless schedules conflicted. You wouldn’t meet if he was in a different state for the weekend, solving a crime. Turns out, he was a government employee; he was Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You didn’t know much else about him, and he didn’t know a whole lot about you either. It was a relationship - could you even call it that? - strictly for sex. No strings or feelings attached.
Except there was one problem; your dumbass had caught feelings. That was the deal from day one. You both decided it would be strictly fucking, nothing else. But hell if you didn’t defy the rules. How could you obey them, anyway, with him? Sure, you didn’t know a lot about him, but you didn’t need to. You fell in love with the way he treated you and the soft, ginger touches and kisses he gave you. Unless, of course, he’d had a bad week. It was a different story, then.
You still slept in his jacket, almost every night. It was your comfort item. It had lost his smell by now, but you loved it for more than just the fact that it used to smell like him. It reminded you of the best man you’d ever met; he treated you like nobody else ever did, in so many ways.
But a real relationship was strictly forbidden; even though his friends from that night (who you now knew as his coworkers) knew about you, they were under the impression that it was a one-night-stand. Your friends thought the same thing. Of course, they were suspicious, but per Aaron’s rules, you never admitted it.
He’d gotten a lot more personal since the first night, crossing his own boundaries about personal lives and knowledge of each other. Not that you minded that in the least.
Your phone buzzed on your nightstand. It was a text message. You picked it up and clicked the power button.
A.H. : Happy graduation day. Congratulations.
A small smile fell on your lips. You left it, for the time being, checking your other notifications. Your friends mentioned getting breakfast before rehearsal for the following evening, so you agreed. Rachel was already awake and in the shower, which surprised you. Usually, it was her that slept in. Seconds later, you heard her get out and she walked into the room you shared of your tiny new apartment.
“It’s alive! Did you see Lexi’s text about breakfast?” She was butt-ass naked, drying her hair with a towel, strutting over to her bed and pulling her clothes on. Of course, this was the norm between the two of you; you were convinced she’d somehow seen more of you than Aaron had. You didn’t bat an eyelash at your best friend’s nudity anymore.
“Yeah, I’m gonna shower real quick.” You rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower, letting the water wash the sleep from your eyes. You took in your bare skin, admiring the hickeys on your breasts; the coloring on the bruises were from all stages of healing, along with a bite mark here and there. Like you’d said, a rough week meant rougher...well, you get the idea.
You traced your fingers over the bruises and the faint teeth impressions that marked your body, memories flooding your mind. A smirk graced your lips as you remembered every night associated with each mark. A thought crossed your mind, one that you were grateful for: Aaron was always careful to leave a mark where it could be hidden with clothes. You’d need that today. You went through your shower routine as quickly as possible, finishing when Rachel was drying her hair in the bathroom with you.
You pulled the curtain open, trying to grab your towel before Rachel saw the newest marks on your body, but it was too late. She caught your eye in the mirror, her jaw dropping. She flicked the hairdryer off and turned on her heel to face you.
“Are those new?” Disbelief sounded in her tone. You just rolled your eyes and smiled, shrugging at her. She gasped.
“When did you have time to…?”
“We have a schedule.”
The two of you shared a laugh and she congratulated you for finally getting laid like she said you needed to when you were too stressed about school. It turns out, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Not only did you enjoy the sex, but the man you were having it with helped you to feel relaxed, not to mention he treated you like royalty.
Within half an hour, you and Rachel were out the door and headed to a café to meet the other girls for breakfast. Your sundress blustered around in the wind, the temperature surprisingly comfortable for being under the sun at almost it’s highest point.
You held the door open for Rach, following in behind her. The girls were sitting at a table in the corner of the room and you filled the last two seats. The waitress came up and took your and Rachel’s orders, then left to put them in. Your eyes scanned the café, as they usually do in any slightly unfamiliar place.
Your eyes landed on a table with two seats across the room, one occupied by a man that you thought looked familiar. Your eyebrows knit together as you tried to figure it out to yourself, sipping your coffee and keeping up with the banter at the table in the meantime.
Then, it hit you: it was the older man from the bar, the first night you met Aaron. And he wasn’t alone. Across from him sat the skinny one, a portable chess table in between the two of them. The older man chuckled as the kid beat him for likely the millionth time this morning. Suddenly, he got a phone call. You watched him mouth Aaron’s name, and then something that looked like ‘what’s wrong?’. He told him he’d be there soon, and the two men stood quickly from their seats, rushing towards the door. But before they left, the kid caught your eye. You averted your gaze as quickly as you could, as to not be noticed.
“Where’s the fire, boys?”, Rachel muttered in your ear next to you, laughing. You chuckled in return to avoid suspicion. Little did she know, there was likely a heinous crime that the BAU had just found out about and they’d been called in. That means you were probably not on for this weekend, and it bummed you out. It was the second weekend in a row you couldn’t see Aaron, and you were starting to miss him. The sex was amazing, of course, but you missed his company too. His smell, his face, his lips...
You’d replied to Aaron’s text from earlier on your way here, but a new one just came in. You checked your phone inconspicuously; it helped that you didn’t put his full name as his contact, just in case someone looked over your shoulder, which was likely with Rachel at your side.
A.H.: This weekend’s not looking good again. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’ll make it up to you, I promise.
You sighed, knowing this text was soon to come at some point today. You started drafting a response under the table.
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s your job, Aaron. Be careful, I love-‘
Oh, fuck. You’d been denying it for so long now and you almost blew your cover. The recurring fear that he had to already have known because he was a profiler crept back into your mind. But you just couldn’t help it, you’d never had a connection like this with anyone. Your heart ached at the thought of not seeing him again.
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s your job, Aaron. Be careful, text me when you can.’
Better. You watched the blue bar across the top of your screen zoom from left to right as the message sent. You clicked your phone off, returning your attention to the table. Your friend Lexi seemed to notice your change in emotion and gave you a small, empathetic look from across the table. She was the only one you were honest with about how you really felt about Aaron. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it to anyone else, you were just closest with her and she was your most empathetic friend.
Your phone buzzed in your lap again.
A.H.: You know I will, (Y/N).
You imagined him saying it to you in a reassuring tone and it warmed your heart. Fuck, you missed him. And you loved him. It wasn’t something you could deny anymore. Suddenly you wanted to run around the city and scream at the top of your lungs about how much you loved Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.
Several hours later, you were getting ready to go out the door, putting the final touches on your outfit. Rachel came up beside you in the mirror, tilting your cap and running her fingers through the tassels until they hung straight. She smiled at you, and you smiled back. “We did it, (Y/N/N).”, she said, wrapping an arm around you. You hugged her back, trying not to cry.
You were sitting in the stadium, about to walk across the stage. You really wished Aaron could be here, as silly as it was. You knew he’d never do that, likely easily recognized in public and you two couldn’t be seen together. After the ceremony, you met up with your friends outside and started celebrating as much as you could in the parking lot. You were taking selfies and now, trying to figure out how to take a group picture with no one to take it. You tried propping the phone up on the hood of your car but the angle wasn’t right.
“Want me to take the picture for you, ladies?” A voice rang out from behind you. Your body was frozen in its place. Right away, you knew who it belonged to. You’d heard it almost every weekend, whispering in your ear, moaning your name, telling you to beg…
Hesitantly, you turned around. Your friends were already facing him, Rachel with a look on her face that could only be described as shocked. There Aaron stood, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, a sly smile painted on his lips.
“Aaron, what’re you doing here?”, you asked him quietly, in complete disbelief. Your friends watched the exchange like it was a hit blockbuster movie.
“I couldn’t miss my girl’s graduation. I told the team we’d wait until tonight to leave.” A warm feeling washed over your body at his words. You tried suppressing a smile, but it weaseled its way out. You smiled so big you thought your cheeks would rip. He returned one, striding over to you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, waiting to see what he’d do next.
He stepped into your personal space, taking your face in both of his huge and calloused hands, planting a kiss on your lips. Your friends gasped and cheered and all things alike, but you weren’t paying attention to them. Your hands rested lightly on Aaron’s dress shirt and you kissed him back with all the love and passion that had been bubbling up inside you over the past two weeks. He pulled away too soon, a hand dropping from your cheek. His thumb stroked your skin, his soft brown eyes gazing down on you. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and you just rested your head against his. So many things were being said between the two of you, and yet not a single word left your lips.
“Okay lovebirds, we don’t have all day.”, Rachel remarked playfully. You weren’t looking at her, but you could imagine the smirk on her face right now. You rolled your eyes internally, a smile showing itself on your lips. You pulled back from him, interlacing your fingers with his as you stood by his side. She suddenly held up her phone, telling the two of you to pose.
You were afraid Aaron wouldn’t have wanted to take a picture with you, but he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping an arm around you. Your arms wrapped around him and you flashed a toothy smile at the camera. Rachel smiled from behind the phone, genuinely happy to see you feeling the same way.
Aaron took every picture you wanted without complaining once, and your friends went their separate ways, leaving you and Aaron alone. You two were sitting in his SUV outside of his place, making out in his backseat. You were straddling him, fingers running through his black hair.
His lips trailed kisses down your neck, the strap of your dress being pulled ever so gently from your shoulder. You smiled as his lips travelled lower, leaving marks in between your breasts. A small moan slipped from your lips, the grip from his hand tightening on your hip. Suddenly, his phone started ringing, and he groaned, resting his head on your chest. You chuckled.
“You gonna get that, Aaron?”, you asked him slyly. He picked it up, looking at the screen. His lips tightened into a straight line, mouthing an apology before answering.
“Hotch.”, he said matter-of-factly into the speaker. Someone was speaking on the other end, but you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying or who it was.
“Yeah, I lost track of time, I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and you frowned at him. He sighed, pulling you flush to his chest. “I wish I didn’t have to leave. I’m sorry, (Y/N).” His face donned a sad look.
“Aaron, like I said, you can’t help it. Go kick some ass and then bring yours back to me so I can tell you how hot it is.” A smirk painted itself on your lips and he chuckled deeply.
“You’re so funny, I love you.” It all came out of his mouth in a rush, like you’d said it to each other a million times, but it was quite the opposite. Your eyes grew wide, as did his, realizing what he’d said.
“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I-'', he stuttered. He stopped talking when you cradled his face, your thumb running along his cheekbone.
“Don’t…”, you whispered, kissing his lips softly. You could feel him relax against you, a sigh escaping him as he kissed you back. You pulled back from him, looking into his eyes and searching his face. “I love you too, Aaron. I have ever since I saw you that first night.”, you confessed. He smiled softly.
“So have I.”
The drive back to your apartment complex was silent, but the air between the two of you was buzzing with a loving and happy energy, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him. He parked in front of the building, looking over at you, his gaze softening in the dim light from the stereo. You laughed nervously, asking him what he was looking at.
“I just love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”, he said with a huge smile on his face. You mirrored his expression, resting your hand on his cheek.
“And I love you, Aaron Hotchner.” You two shared a kiss before you went inside; he sat in his car and made sure you got into the door before peeling off into the night.
You leaned on the door to find the key on your key ring, only to find the door ajar. Your forehead creased as you wracked your brain, trying to remember if you locked the door before you left or if Rachel was supposed to be back already. A bad feeling started festering inside of you.
The thought crossed your mind to call Aaron; you felt it was the most rational thing to do at the moment. Your heartbeat loudly in your chest and your palms started sweating. Something was wrong. You pulled your phone from your purse and almost hit the dial button, but suddenly you hit the floor, a pain surging from the back of your head and into the rest of your body. Your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hold your eyes open. Your body felt weak, and you felt like you were lifted in the air and tossed over someone’s shoulder.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the pain being too much to take. That was when you slipped into unconsciousness.
taglist:
@andromedasstarship
@mac99martin
@laycblack
@art-and-thoughts
@bellamy1998
#fanfic#fanfiction#literature#romance#original story#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds oneshot#david rossi#hotch x y/n#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds smut#spencer reid#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#derek morgan
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Hate To Love You
Vigilante! Eijiro Kirishima x Fem! Reader
Warnings: ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING, brief mentions of violence and alcohol, soft-ish Bakugo
Word Count: 1.6 k
Author’s Note: Y’all this HURT to write and it’s gonna hurt to read (sorry, not sorry) This huts so bad and tbh I wanted to make it a different (slightly happier) ending but I just NEEDED THE ANGST FOR SOME GODFORSAKEN REASON. Legitimately cried while writing this. It’s not proofread, don’t come at me, I wrote this bs in, like, 30 minutes. Anywho, have fun crying.
Enjoy~
*
*
*
Now that you think about it, he’d been acting weird. For months he’d been changing, slowly, but you of all people should have noticed. At least Bakugo hadn’t either, which only made you feel a tad better. But it didn’t help with the guilt, the feeling that if anyone were to keep him from going down the path of villainy it would have been you. Maybe if you’d noticed sooner, if you’d realized he’d been less enthusiastic about being a hero, if you noticed how he began questioning hero society and its morals then maybe Kirishima would be here, graduating with the rest of class 3-A.
You remember the night he vanished six months ago. You’d fallen asleep in his bed that night, after he cuddled you more aggressively than usual. When you woke up he was gone, a note on his nightstand about how he couldn’t become a hero in this society anymore, how he had to fix it from the other side because from inside it was impossible. ‘You can’t think outside the box if you don’t know what the outside looks like.’ He promised he’d return, promise he’d be back to fix the commission and hero society as a whole. You waited for him to return until even Bakugo had given up.
*
***Seven years later***
*
“He made the most wanted.” Your fingers gripped the fabric of your hero costume tight as you strolled down the street for patrol. The blonde broke the news like it was forbidden to speak, like somehow speaking it would make it too real. It wasn’t all that surprising to you, if you’re being honest to yourself. The vigilante Red Riot is now on Japan’s most wanted list. With a sigh, you nodded.
“Just focus on patrol.” It wasn’t worth the distraction or distress right now. Bakugo looked at you out of the corner of his eye, his shoulders tensing just a little.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
“It’s not worth the stress, Bakugo. Just drop it right now.” He gave his own sigh before refocusing. It was odd at first, seeing this softer more cautious side to the normally aggressive blonde. But he knew better than anyone how close you and Kirishima were, and he saw what had happened to you after he left. He was there to witness firsthand as you fell into depression, skipping meals, barely sleeping, and when you did sleep it was because you’d exhausted yourself crying. Bakugo was there for it all, and had dragged you out of that swamp. You stuck by each other’s side after that, bonding over a loss and becoming family like you never knew. You hold each other up when you’re too weak to stand on your own. It’s only natural he worries about you.
You’d been trying to hunt Red Riot down for seven years. Even then, you hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of him. He’s evaded you for seven long years and now he’s managed to get himself categorized into the country’s worst of the worst. Over the years he’s killed countless villains, corrupt businessmen, politicians, heroes, and even those part of the hero commission. He always left evidence of corruption, along with evidence of smaller connected people and organizations for the ‘true heroes’ to take care of while he hunts his next target.
But he’s still killed people.
“Oi.” You snapped your head over to Bakugo, who had elbowed you. Taking a look around you, you realized you were already back at the agency. You’d completely zoned out and switched to auto-pilot for the rest of the patrol route. Taking a deep breath you looked at Bakugo.
“What is it?” He gave you a look, the one he always did when he knew exactly what happened no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. Still, he didn’t bring any more attention to it.
“The gala. You have your dress yet?” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. That gala was stupid, you hated it with a passion. It was supposed to be a celebration for another year of successful hero work, but it was only another cruel reminder that you failed to save the one person you loved the most. This year’s theme was ‘masquerade ball’. At least you could be sad behind your mask.
“Yeah, I have the dress. And the mask.” He hummed, nodded, remaining silent until you split off to the locker rooms.
Two weeks later you stand at the steps of the venue, arm looped with the blonde’s as you take a deep breath and prepare for a night of hidden regret and dread and sorrow. You wouldn’t be dancing, only sitting at your assigned table sipping whatever alcohol you could get your hands on, just as you had for the past seven years. And Bakugo sat with you, as always, making sure you didn’t completely break down in the middle of the event and stayed sober at least until the award ceremony was over. Until he had to wrangle a completely wasted Midoriya out of the bathroom, because even Denki and Sero combined couldn’t match his strength when he was using OFA. So you sat alone.
A tap on your shoulder had you turning to see who dared to bother you in your brooding, your eyes met with a bulky man in a black suit, deep red dress shirt underneath and a full face mask, the same color as his shirt and encrusted with black gems. Brilliant red eyes danced behind the mask, long black hair tied up neatly in a bun at the back of his head. He held a hand out to you, palm up. When he spoke, there was something familiar about his muffled voice.
“Care to dance?” You don’t know what possessed you to take the stranger’s hand, but you felt drawn to him. As you danced you felt yourself leaning into him, the old victorian waltz music making it all feel more romantic. The hand on your waist moved, pressing into your lower back and tucking you into him further, and then he spoke, making your heart freeze in your chest.
“It’s been so long since I’ve held you. I’ve missed you, baby.” Everything felt slower as you looked back up into those beautiful red eyes, the ones you haven’t seen in such a long time, the ones that used to smile at the thought of a certain Crimson themed hero. Those red eyes that now held so much blood and death and violence. Your tears fell freely, your body only able to barely keep up with the man’s dancing.
He’d changed a lot, he’s thicker, more muscular and his hair...he let it grow out and cut off all the red. There was no doubt in your mind he had scars marring his body. And he’s scarier. He’s a murderer, a criminal. He isn’t your Kirishima anymore. A thick, rough thumb swiped across your cheek, wiping away a few of those pesky tears.
“Kiri…” You choked on your words, hands grabbing his suit jacket tight, not allowing him the chance to leave.
“You left me...Why did you leave?” He heaved a sigh, cupping your face.
“I had to, baby. It was impossible to fix things from the inside, it’s too corrupt.”
“But you didn’t have to kill so many people...You didn’t have to leave me...I cried for you for so long…” All you could do was clutch his suit tighter, sobbing as he looked down at you. It was infuriating. He shouldn’t have left. He didn’t have to leave. His eyes flicked to the side briefly before he let you go and he was ripped from your grasp. All you saw was a blur of blonde and a massive explosion before Kirishima was being blasted to the far wall, the paint and drywall cracking around him.
Suddenly every equipped pro was on top of him, and he was cuffed within minutes. He didn’t even put up a fight, only smiling a sad smile at you, his mask having been lost in the battle. He’s still as handsome as the day he left. You were frozen in place, watching everything happen in a blur of motion. Suddenly Bakugo was dragging him by the collar, dropping him down to his knees at your feet. The blonde said nothing, only held him down and yanked his hair, making him look up at you.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This was the only way.” You didn’t believe him. Bakugo, now satisfied, yanked his collar again and tossed him at the others waiting to take him into custody. He came back and tugged you into his chest, but you were just...numb. Your body fell limp and he picked you up effortlessly, carrying you somewhere. You didn’t really care where, you just shut your eyes and curled into his chest, wanting to forget the world.
Kirishima came back, just as he promised, but he’d come back a different man. And now, he’s going to spend the rest of his life in Tartarus. You don’t visit him, even if you wanted to, Bakugo would try to convince you not to. You didn’t need him to convince you.
In your third year at UA, Kirishima was the love of your life. Now, he’s nothing but a criminal who shattered your heart, and you wish you’d never fallen in love with him.
You used to love Kirishima with everything you had, and maybe part of you still does.
But you hate it with everything you are and everything you will be.
You hate to have loved him.
#kirishima angst#eijiro kirishima#eijiro kirishima x reader#eijiro kirishima bnha#eijiro kirishima mha#eijiro kirishima angst#kirishima eijiro#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima eijiro bnha#kirishima eijiro mha#kirishima eijiro angst#this fucking hurt#so bad
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puzzle; 6 (m)
➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?
pairing: jungkook x (f) reader
genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au
warnings: lots of swearing, unprotected sex (use condoms y’all kids)
rating: 18+
word count: 13k wooohoooooo
A/N: i listened to the same 4 songs over and over again while writing and i think it kind of sets the mood for this chapter so hm if you guys like listening to music while reading here goes a small playlist:
Jungkook - If you (read the lyrics pls)
Whitesnake - Is This Love
BTS - Jamais Vu
Sam Smith - Lay Me Down
enjoy!
➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!
« playlist »
“You’re acting weird.”
You finally look up when you hear this, just to see Hoseok frowning at you.
“I’m not.” You’re quick to say, shrugging.
“You’re really acting weird. Is everything okay?” Hoseok insists, crossing his arms.
Hoseok is not what bothers you the most, though, but another pair of eyes watching you like a hawk.
Jimin knows why you’re acting weird. Since that day at Joy’s house, he has been staring at you like this constantly - half judging, half worried.
It’s very annoying, to be honest.
“I’m just… a little bit stressed.” You admit, shrugging again. Fortunately, Hoseok isn’t as observant as Jimin, so he seems convinced.
“So, what did you guys want?” You ask, changing the topic. They came after you in the cafeteria while you have lunch after all.
“Ah! I almost forgot,” Hoseok starts. “You quit your job at the coffee shop, right?”
“Yes. It was way too stressful and my boss was a bitch.” You huff.
“So you’ll be free this weekend?” He asks. You nod, but if he’s about to invite you to a party or something, you’re ready to say no. “The thing is, you know that me and Jimin have this job as waiters, right? There’s a wedding this weekend and they’re needing staff. So, if you’re interested, you can come with us on Saturday night. The payment is decent and it’s just easy stuff to do.”
Your mood lightens up at this. “Yeah, sure! I’ll go. I really need money right now.”
Hoseok smiles and claps his hands together. “Alright! I’ll send you all the information later. They’ll give you a uniform, so don’t worry about clothes. I have to go now. Bye!”
He leaves.
Jimin stays.
You just keep eating quietly, Jimin’s heavy gaze on you, until you finally get annoyed.
“Jimin, what do you want?” You cross your arms and glare back.
Jimin slowly quirks one eyebrow. “Won’t you ask me if Jungkook’s going?”
“Why would I ask if he’s going or not?”
“Because you guys aren’t talking anymore.”
“Thank you so much for reminding me of this, Jimin."
He realised that he went a little too far just by seeing your clenched jaw and the anger in your eyes. Jimin sighs and shrugs. "Anyways, yes, Jungkook is going. But not to work as a waiter, he’ll take pictures instead.”
“So what?"
Jimin swipes his hand over his face and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. "I think you’re so stupid. Both of you. My fucking God.”
“You know what, Jimin? That’s none of your business.” You finally get up and take the tray rather roughly, walking away without looking back.
Maybe you were a little too rude with Jimin, but he’s being unbearable these days.
It’s been one month since that day at Joy’s house - one month since you and Jungkook have been avoiding each other like the plague.
And maybe you were a little too rude with him because deep down, you know he’s right.
As usual.
tae: wyd?? 👀👀
you: working
tae: ??? didn’t u quit ur job
you: yea
you: it’s one night thing
you: i need the 💸💸
tae: oh
tae: ok
tae: i’ll ask later then
you: wAIT
you: ask what??????
tae: later
tae: u should work first~
you: but im curious
you: i can’t work if im curious >:(
tae: 🙊
you: tae????
you: taeeeeeeee
you: TAEHYUNG
He doesn’t reply anymore.
You groan, shoving your phone on your back pocket again, and leave the restroom. The guests hadn’t arrived yet since the wedding ceremony is still ongoing, but the kitchen is already a mess: people yelling orders, the delicious scent of good food in the air, cooks cooking (duh) and waiters getting ready. The boss has already given you the last instructions, but it’s not as if working in an event like this is a difficult task: serve the guests, smile, be polite, walk around the hall, try not to break the crystal glasses that cost more than what you can pay.
The hotel is pretty fancy, actually. You were expecting a smaller wedding. Not that this is a problem, of course. The only problem here are the heels that all women are forced to use; it’s not too high, but walking around endlessly the whole night in these will be painful for sure. The rest of the uniform is that standard - black pants, white button shirt, black vest and bow tie, hair tied in a perfect high bun, simple makeup.
You walk to the hall to make the last adjustments in the decoration. Pretty much everything is in place, so there isn’t much to do. The tables are organized, the floor is pristinely clean, the white flower bouquets are in place. A DJ will be in charge of music tonight.
You stand at the back of the hall, almost hidden, just to check your phone once more; no new texts. Now, you can’t stop thinking about what Taehyung wants to ask. He knows you’d get all curious. You and Taehyung have grown closer these days: late phone calls, endless texts, random memes at random times. You hadn’t gone on a proper date yet, though - and you don’t think you want to.
Taehyung is a nice guy and a good friend, but you don’t want to take things to the next level - even though this seems to be Taehyung’s intention since the beginning. He has been insisting in you for quite a long time now meanwhile all you do is keep a certain distance. You didn’t really give him any real hopes yet and you’re afraid that Taehyung might be reading your actions in the wrong way. Truth be told, it’ll be so shitty of you to keep his hopes high when you won’t go anywhere with this.
Your feelings are all messed up.
Because you shouldn’t even be feeling anything in the first place.
Ironically, you’ve never been friends with benefits with anyone before. You did have some fuck buddies in the past, though - but you were never friends with any of them. You never got involved with any of your actual friends. Sure, there was that night when drunk-you and drunk-Jimin made out at a party (you don’t talk about it), but at that time, you had just joined college and neither you nor Jungkook were close to Jimin yet, so it doesn’t really count. Also, you and Jimin never had sex - you just kissed, nothing more.
But of course dumb you had to be friends with benefits with your best fucking friend. Of course you had to destroy your friendship like that. Everyone knows that sex is a friendship destroyer. Everyone!
One month without Jungkook felt like being in the desert without rain. You have good friends, but none of them are that special person that’s somehow able to read you mind and understand you even if you don’t say anything. None of them know the type of meme you’d laugh at, none of them sent you random snaps at random times of the day. Worst of all - you didn’t watch Endgame together, when you’ve been watching every Marvel film together ever since you both started obsessing over heroes years ago. Every. Single. Marvel. Film.
You didn’t get to see Jungkook crying during the last scenes of Endgame. Jimin didn’t say if he cried or not, but you know he cried.
That’s devastating.
Truth be told, you don’t even miss sex. Sure, you and Jungkook are the perfect match in bed, and you caught yourself masturbating at night wishing it were Jungkook’s fingers inside of you instead (touching yourself has never been so depressing), but what you actually miss to the point it hurts your chest are the small, familiar things. The comfortable silence. The funny banter. Going to Burger King together late at night after a party or when none of you want to cook. Showing each other funny videos or discussing about the latest chapter of the manga you’re both reading. Jungkook ignoring your texts for hours because he’s too focused on playing Overwatch. You even miss the way he never lets you eat the last slice of pizza, goddammit.
You simply miss him.
What leads you to another thought - something that has been growing stronger in your mind.
After days of self denial, you finally admitted that you were jealous of Jungkook and Joy.
There’s no other explanation for the way you acted that day at her house. You were mad that she was touching him and getting too close. That’s weird. You’ve never really been the jealous type. You never minded when people tried to flirt with Jungkook.
You’re not jealous of friends.
Even so, you had a jealousy attack and didn’t rest until Jungkook’s attention was yours again.
Being totally honest with yourself, you’ve been jealous of Joy ever since you found out she was interested in him.
…what the fuck?
Something inside of you have changed, and only now you’re brave enough to admit. Somewhere along the road, you stopped seeing Jungkook as just a friend. He’s currently in that blurry and confusing level - not only a friend, but at the same time, not more than a friend. You don’t know what the fuck he is anymore.
More importantly… do you want to be more than friends?
If you and Jungkook make up, will you be able to go back to what it was - just friends?
Or are you just being possessive? Did you start seeing him in a different way just because you realized you’re about to lose him?
You don’t know the answer to none of those questions. What you know at the moment is that being away from him fucking hurts. You have the same friends, go to the same places, study at the same university, but barely see each other anymore. What’s that thing people say? You just start valuing things after you lose them.
Jimin asked you not to play with Jungkook’s feelings. What he doesn’t know, though, is that you’re so confused about yours that you don’t have time to play with his feelings.
When you realize the guests are about to come, you force your brain to focus on your current task. You stand back with the rest of the waiters as, slowly, the elegant guests get into the hall, sitting at their respective tables, and soon the place is filled with conversation, laughter and music.
After everyone took their places, the main couple finally come.
The lights change. The DJ plays a special song. Guests stand up and applaud when they enter the hall, smiling, and walk to the center to have their first dance as a married couple.
You could have noticed how the bride’s dress was beautiful. You could have noticed how her front teeth was dirty with lipstick and how the groom tried to discreetly tell her about this. You could have even noticed how one of the kids was starting to have a tantrum and his mother half-screamed, half-whispered, if you don’t be quiet you’ll be grounded for one month!
But you don’t notice any of that, because the photographer enters the hall right after the couple does.
Your heart flutters in a funny way.
Jungkook is wearing a suit (you don’t even remember the last time you saw him in a suit); black and simple, but it fits him so well. He isn’t much different from all the other man, except for his long hair - his black hair is so long he can probably tie it now - and his ear piercings. He holds his camera to eye level, capturing every moment he can from the couple’s first dance, a backpack with other tools hanging from his shoulder.
Everyone else is focusing on the couple - but you can’t look at anything else but him.
He looks so handsome and focused and hot and-
Hey, you’re here to work!, you remind yourself angrily, shaking your head and walking back to the kitchen.
Drink after drink, tray after tray - you and the other waiters and waitresses walk around the hall to serve the guests. It’s not a difficult work, but still tiring nevertheless. It’s also hard to balance yourself and the trays with these high heels. Soon, you’re immersed in the work and momentarily forget about everything else, although (unconsciously) you try to avoid being seen by a specific someone.
Time passes by and the party goes on. Parents make heartfelt speeches, everyone cries. The DJ plays popular songs and soon the dancefloor is full. Alcohol already starts to get into their heads. Men are either speaking and laughing too loud or crying, hugging the groom. Women already forgot their high heels and their elegance, twerking shamelessly and screaming. Kids do the usual - run, yell, fall and cry - and they almost throw you on the ground twice. Someone spills champagne on the floor; you rush to clean it before someone ends up slipping. There’s the eventual noise of glass breaking. A certain dude has asked for your help far too much and you start to avoid him, noticing that he’s staring at your ass. Another guest pukes and is taken to the infirmary. As usual, you hear old women complaining about the food, how the decoration is ugly, how one waiter was rude, how the DJ doesn’t play the songs they want-
“The photographer is so hot! What’s his name?!” You hear someone giggling.
You gulp.
Jungkook is just doing his job, but that boy can’t go unnoticed, not even when he tries. You don’t know if he saw you yet, and honestly, you hope he didn’t.
Just do your job. Just do your job.
The night goes on. Your left foot hurts and you need to pee, but gladly most of the guests have already left - the groom and bride left first and the party went on without them -, the hall is almost empty, which means it’s almost ending. Now, you busy yourself with cleaning the hall.
“Man, I’m dead,” Hoseok groans, stretching his back. You nod, putting some empty glasses on a tray to take them back to the kitchen.
“Now imagine bearing it all in heels,” you say, not being able to keep your nice posture anymore. Not that there are many guests anyway - most are too drunk or sleeping on the tables. The DJ is still diligently playing, though.
“The night was productive after all,” Jimin chirps happily, approaching you two with a smug grin on his lips. You see he’s holding a small paper between his fingers… someone’s phone number.
“Son of a bitch,” you say under your breath. Jimin just shrugs and smirks. Much obviously, you apologized for your rudeness before you came. The fact that he forgave you so easily made everything worse, honestly. Jimin is a nice guy with his friends (way too nice for his own good sometimes) and it just shows how he doesn’t deserve to be treated in a rude way.
“I’m just taking the chances life gives me!” He chirps again, making you roll your eyes.
“Anyways, what’s wrong with Jungkook?” Hoseok wonders, crossing his arms and frowning. “He didn’t come over the entire night. Is he avoiding us?”
You gulp.
Instantly, your eyes travel to where he stands in the nearly-empty dance floor. He smiles politely to some women that stand around him. Everyone’s obviously too drunk and they’re probably talking nonsense.
He’s avoiding me, you realize sadly.
“He’s working, Hoseok. His job won’t end if the guests keep asking for pictures.” Jimin is quick to say, what indeed makes sense, but Jimin also knows very well why he has been keeping his distance. Hoseok is the only one that doesn’t notice the strange tension in the air.
When you notice you’ve been staring for an embarrassing long time, you immediately shift your gaze to the dirty plates in front of you, organizing them in a pile to take them to the kitchen. You came here to work. That’s it. Focus-
An excited scream tears the air.
“I loooove this song!” One of the girls on the dance floor scream, the one that has been clinging on Jungkook ever since the crowd started to dissipate. Much obviously tipsy, her eyes were glued on him the entire night (not that you’ve been noticing the people checking him out. Of course not). “Jungkookie, dance with me!”
You almost gasp.
Jungkookie?!
That’s when you finally notice the face Jungkook is making - and you try your best not to laugh.
He has that look that means oh my fucking God someone please take me out of this situation.
The two boys by your side don’t try to hide the laughter as well as you, watching the desperate Jungkook try to turn her offer down - an awkward smile, eyes shifting from her, a muttered apology (I still have some work to do…) but the thirsty girl is surprisingly insistent (you can stop for a little bit, come on!).
“I feel sorry for him,” Hoseok almost chokes as he tries to stop his giggles. You kind of feel sorry, too. He can’t be rude to a customer, otherwise he’d be punched by her relatives - not that Jungkook would be rude anyway. He steps back, scratches the back of his neck. The girl is almost climbing him. He looks around desperately, trying to find a way to escape-
“Why don’t you help him, Y/N?” Jimin says sweetly.
You side eye the sugar-coated snake you call friend. “Jimin.” Is all you say in a warning manner.
Someone that doesn’t understand the situation wouldn’t think anything weird, because you’re actually used to save Jungkook from crazy girls. The thing is, sometimes he’s too nice to turn girls down - and yes, girls do chase him. When he’s not interested in them, you’d usually understand the situation and run on his rescue, most times pretending to be his girlfriend so the girls would stop bothering him. It’s something funny and you’d always laugh your asses off right after.
Not now.
You definitely don’t want to laugh now.
Jimin is being far from innocent. He just wants to push you two into each other. He may have good intentions, but he’s not considering the fact that you don’t feel ready to face Jungkook - not when your feelings are so messed up. This ain’t happening.
“Yeah, Y/N. Jungkook looks pretty desperate,” Hoseok remarks, again, oblivious to the tension lingering in the air.
“Jungkook can handle himself very well. He doesn’t need my help.” Even though Jimin feels your menacing glare and sees your jaw clench, this boy is very brave and insists:
“Come on, Y/N! It won’t hurt.” He says innocently.
Yes, it will hurt. It already hurts, dumbass.
“Did you guys forget that we’re here to work? I don’t want to be reprimanded.”
“The hall is near empty. There’s literally nothing to do anymore.” Hoseok doesn’t understand why you’re glaring at him now.
You’re trying to control your nerves, but it’s getting hard not to feel your stomach jump in a weird way and your fingertips tremble. Just the idea of approaching him makes you weak, and not in a good way. Why these people can’t just leave you alone?!
“Do you think that avoiding him forever will work?” Jimin hisses on your ear, low enough so only you can listen, finally showing how pissed he really is.
What he says gets you.
Avoiding each other isn’t working, you know this very well. You remember the way you used to deal with things in the past - talking. Sure, you won’t be able to really talk right now, but at least you’ll have a chance to approach him.
You don’t want to. You really don’t. But at the same time, you want to. You miss Jungkook.
Besides, he can’t run away from you in this situation.
You take a deep breath and gulp, trying to ease the tension. Come on. I know Jungkook. He’s the same bastard I’ve known my whole life. Stop being a pussy. I’m not a pussy!
“Just to make clear,” you whisper back to Jimin. “I fucking hate you.”
“You love me.” You wish you could rip that triumphant smirk off his face.
You walk over to the dance floor.
The few couples dance slowly and intimately. Because of course it had to be a slow dance. Of course it had to be a romantic song. Haha. Of course. The Universe must be playing some trick on you.
Jungkook managed to run away from the girl, trying to hide in the corner of the hall, and she’s searching for him like a hawk. You wonder if she’s this drunk or if she’s just stupid. A guy literally running away from you isn’t already a message enough?
You walk quickly to where he stands, and the moment Jungkook turns around and lays his eyes on you, shock covers his features.
“Y/N-?”
“Quick, dance with me,” you say hurriedly, placing his hands on your waist. “She’s coming.”
Instead of questioning, Jungkook immediately starts to play along as you place your own hands on his shoulders. You discreetly watch when the girl finally finds you.
She stops on her tracks.
“She saw us?” He asks without looking back.
“Yes.”
“And?”
You see fire in her eyes.
“If she had a gun, she’d probably shoot me.” The girl looks outraged that you stole her chance to grind on him. “Oh, she’s turning away.”
Jungkook sighs in relief. “Thanks God. She’s been bothering me all night!” You can’t help but giggle.
For a millisecond, it feels like nothing has changed.
But then you look at each other for the first time.
It might be dramatic, but you almost feel that the temperature drops around you.
Oh shit.
You avoid each other’s gazes at the same time. It feels so tremendously awkward to be in front of him again - especially when you’re slow dancing in the dim light of the hall, almost hidden. It feels uncomfortably intimate. Especially because you’re both keeping a distance that normal couples wouldn’t. You probably look like a weird couple at a prom party that were forced to dance together.
It feels foreign.
The way you touch each other doesn’t feel right. You have touched each other in the most intimate and obscene ways, yet the simple touch of his hands on your waist doesn’t feel right. Despite this, you feel your blood boiling with a strange type of excitement; you missed him so damn much. Even in this uncomfortable situation, you can’t help but feel a little bit happy. You didn’t know you’ve been craving for his touch so much up until now.
What’s weird is that you don’t even feel like this in a sexual way. You’re not aroused. Considering how your relationship became strictly sexual these past months, your lack of arousal to be around him is weird.
The butterflies in your stomach and the way your hands are shaking a little bit is also weird.
For some moments, you just sway from side to side in an overwhelming silence. You have no choice but to listen intently to the song being played. As if you already don’t feel fucked up enough, you’re forced to listen to a love song - an 80s love song on top of that. Of course it has to be Is This Love by Whitesnake. Of course. Haha.
“Uhm… thanks.” Jungkook finally breaks the silence. His voice lacks confidence. He probably never talked to you like this.
“Just helping out a friend,” you say and instant regret smashes you. You don’t know if he’s still your friend.
Jungkook looks scarily annoyed for a second. “A friend. Sure.”
Is it inappropriate to notice how he looks handsome when he clenches his jaw?
Honestly, has Jungkook always been this handsome?
Sure, he has always been like this. Maybe not seeing him in a long time made you feel this way. His hair has grown a lot. He looks extra fine in this suit. Every man looks better in a suit, but Jungkook looks like a deity.
The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy.
You did miss him a lot.
The silence makes you pay attention to the song again.
Wasted days and sleepless nights
But I can’t wait to see you again…
Hah, I know how it feels, you think - what makes you widen your eyes, shocked with your own thoughts. No. You won’t suddenly relate to a cliche 80s love song.
Right?
“H-How’s school going?” You stutter. Are you trying to do small talk? For real?
“It’s doing fine,” he simply says. Oh fuck. Not good. He sounds so uninterested in your weak attempt at engaging a conversation it hurts. You came here to try and talk about what really matters, but you don’t feel ready to do it yet. Can’t he understand it?!
It looks like your presence bothers him, honestly.
That’s new.
Wow. Your heart suddenly feels clenched.
Awkward.
Why am I feeling this way?
A heavy silence weighs on you again. This isn’t going as planned - not that you planned anything in the first place. You’re going through a lot of weird sensations now.
Why is that?
You look at Jungkook timidly (timid and Jungkook are two words that used to not make any sense together in the past), but he doesn’t look back. You avoid his gaze again.
Being hit by a truck would hurt less.
What’s happening?
Why are you so damn confused?
When the song hits its chorus, you start to think the Universe is definitely playing with you. The deep voice of the singer floats in the air:
Is this love
That I’m feeling?
Is this the love
That I’ve been searching for?
Fuck you, Whitesnake.
For real.
Fuck. You.
“Did Taehyung ask you?”
This brings you back to reality in an instant.
“What?” You look at him, confused. Why is he talking about Taehyung of all people out of nowhere?
You’ve always been very good at reading Jungkook, but right now, he’s unreadable.
“So he didn’t.” He says blatantly, devoid of any emotion. “I thought he would have already.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He talked to me about a double date.” Jungkook replies, looking back at you for the first time - again, a blank face. “You and him, me and Joy.”
Your blood honestly feels like frost.
It’s like you lost the ability to move or talk for a moment. You blink and gulp, trying to keep composed.
“What? Why?”
“Because he said it’d be fun. And less awkward, since I’m not very close to Joy yet and you’re not very close to him.”
Again, you don’t say anything for long seconds.
“But we’d just be cockblocking each other during the whole date,” you say.
“I know. I think the idea of a double date sounds weird, too. It’s not as if we don’t know them.”
You remember what Taehyung texted you earlier today; he said he’d ask something later. Is he going to ask you out?
He thinks that, since you and Jungkook are best friends, you could ease the tension and even help each other out.
This is so fucked up.
The immediate answer that comes to your mind is no. You don’t want to go on a date with Taehyung when you’re not interested in him. It’d be cruel; you don’t want to keep his hopes high.
But as you’re about to say it, you stop.
What if Jungkook wants to go?
All this time, you’ve only been considering your feelings. Your confusion, your wishes - it’s always about you. You don’t know if you want to be just Jungkook’s friend, but you don’t know if he wants to be more than a friend - or if he wants to be your friend at all. The fuck buddies thing started because you asked. Not even once did you think about him.
Is this what Jimin meant when he asked you to not play with Jungkook’s feelings?
How selfish you’ve been acting all this time?
What if he’s been developing feelings for Joy and now decided to try something? He’s probably feeling hurt because you’ve not been acting like a good friend. You’re always putting yourself first.
That’s why you hear yourself asking:
“Do you want to go?”
It’s scary how every tiny little piece of you wishes he’ll say no.
But Jungkook tilts his head and says:
“Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we can part ways as soon as we get there.”
And this is the moment you feel as cold as you’ve never felt in your life.
It’s as if your ears got obstructed for a moment, because you can’t hear anything but your heartbeat. You can’t even see properly for a second. Yet, you ignore all that, gulp and nod.
It’s time to be a good friend for once.
It’s time to put Jungkook’s wishes first - even though it crushes your heart.
“Okay.” You say quietly.
You’re coming to the conclusion that you’re a walking disaster.
You’ve never been so nervous before a date in your life - but this is not the usual type of nervousness, when people are excited to meet their crush and impress them etc etc. You’re nervous because you don’t want to go. You thought of coming up with a thousand excuses (from the classical “I’m sick :(” to “Seulgi’s sick I gotta take care of her :(” to “my cat’s sick :(” but then you remembered you don’t have a cat to “I’m being chased by the police and I gotta leave the country :(”), but in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.
Not when Taehyung sounded so painfully happy when you said you’d go.
That’s why you should have said no: Taehyung doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good person and he will certainly get hurt when you tell him you’re not interested. Who cares about Jungkook? That fucker can go on a date by himself, he’s not a kid anymore.
But…
There’s something very tiny and mean inside of you called jealousy that didn’t let you simply text an honest apology to Taehyung.
And now it’s too late, because he’s standing at your door.
Handsome as always, Taehyung wears casual clothes: it’s almost as if he didn’t put much thought on it, but he still looks drop dead gorgeous on his black baggy pants, white shirt and black beret (no other man in this planet can manage to not look stupid in a beret other than Taehyung). As usual, your brain malfunctions as it tries to process his beauty.
He has a small, beautiful smile on his lips.
Shit.
“You look beautiful,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. You did put some effort on your clothes, makeup and hair after all. Being complimented by him feels nice.
Shit.
“Thanks. You too, but that’s just your usual self,” you say thoughtlessly and instant regret slaps your face again. Yes, bitch. Flirt with him. Make things more difficult.
Taehyung looks shy for a moment. The sight is endearing.
S. H. I. T.
“You’re just being nice to me.” He tilts his head. “So, let’s go?"
It’s too late to go back now, so you have no choice but to take his arm and show your most plastic smile. "Yeah.”
You’re definitely a walking disaster.
You two arrive in the park first and, instead of just showing your tickets and getting in, you’re forced to wait for the bastard and his hot date.
An amusement park of all places.
Not that you hate amusement parks, it’s pretty much the opposite. It’s just that everything feels so wrong. Especially how Taehyung is making a lot of effort to keep the conversation alive while you wait. It’s not hard to talk to him, though, because he’s an interesting person, but seeing his efforts hurts.
What hurts more is the sight of Jungkook and Joy arriving with locked arms.
You hope Taehyung didn’t notice you holding your breath.
Joy looks hot as always, but you don’t even look at her (yes, it’s not nice to be mad at someone that didn’t do anything wrong), eyes glued on Jungkook instead. Just like Taehyung, it seems that he didn’t put much thought on his clothes, only their styles are completely different: Jungkook wears an oversized grey t-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It might seem simple, but he can manage to look good in anything. Joy surely didn’t mind his choice of clothes.
You lock gazes for one second and proceed to avoid it.
The four of you greet. It’s hard to act natural, but you try to; you don’t want the two others to notice the weird tension between you and the black-haired bastard. Joy looks happy, too.
…
Shit.
Soon, you get into the amusement park. As expected, it’s crowded with kids, families and couples. The weather feels nice this afternoon.
“It’s been a long time since I don’t come to an amusement park,” you confess.
“Really? Then this was a good choice. I was worried if it’d be too cheesy…” he also confesses sheepishly.
“It’s not!” You reassure him. Joy agrees with you. Jungkook keeps silent. “I just have some traumatizing memories about amusement parks.”
Taehyung quirks one eyebrow. “What?”
You sigh.
You and Jungkook end up saying in unison:
“5th grade.”
You look at each other and avoid your gazes again.
“What? What happened on 5th grade?” Joy asks excitedly.
“Our school came to an amusement park that year,” Jungkook explains.
“Why was it traumatizing?” Taehyung still seems confused.
“Because… well…” you hesitate to say.
“Because she was so short back then that they didn’t let her go on the rollercoasters. And she cried the whole trip,” Jungkook suddenly says.
You glare at him.
He has a playful smirk on his lips.
“Oh, so what about you?” You can’t help but smile, too.
“What happened to him?” Joy asks.
“He laughed at me because I couldn’t ride, but he puked his lunch after he went on the coaster and spent half of the trip in the infirmary,” you reveal.
“You’re still bitter that you stayed with me in the infirmary?” He inquires.
“Of course I am! Also, you puked on my shoes!”
“I already apologized. Besides, I paid you banana milk for two entire weeks. Isn’t it enough?”
“It isn’t!”
“Are you saying that banana milk isn’t enough?!” He gasps. “You psycho.”
You both giggle.
Again, for one moment, it feels that everything is back to normal. You feel comfortable having these old memories, as if you never stopped being best friends, as if you have the intimacy to play like this again.
But it’s only for one moment.
You avoid gazes. It feels so out of place.
At least the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes shows that he feels the same about this all.
Before the tension between you two can become too strong, you change the topic and engage both Taehyung and Joy in the conversation - during that moment, you two forgot about them. As wrong as it is, Taehyung is your date for the night. He’s the one you should pay attention to.
So you try to completely ignore Jungkook’s existence for a while.
You only look at Taehyung and don’t even touch your phone. You answer his questions and ask things about him. It doesn’t feel like a punishment, though, because he is an interesting person and you genuinely enjoy his company.
But you can’t help but look at Jungkook from time to time.
You can’t help but notice his smiley-eyes as he looks at her. You can’t help but see their closure.
You can’t help but feel your heart clenching.
And then, you see yourself locking your arm with Taehyung’s.
“What’s that?” You say excitedly. “I wanna see it!”
You drag Taehyung away from the other couple until they disappear in the crowd. Only then you remember how to breathe again.
Considering all the odds, this going better than you expected.
You tried your best to completely erase Jungkook’s and Joy’s existence from your mind, and at some point it finally worked. Taehyung is a funny guy to be around. There’s something very particular and endearing about his personality that captivates you; he’s obviously trying to impress you, but he’s still being very honest. He has some type of innocence that makes you realize that this guy is seriously one of a kind. You can’t think of a single sign that he might be a bad person.
You’re genuinely enjoy this.
But not in the way Taehyung expects you to be enjoying it.
As wrong as it is, you unconsciously end up comparing him to Jungkook.
If Jungkook was your date, the first thing you’d both want to do is try all the rollercoasters and the wildest rides in this park. But Taehyung is scared of heights. You didn’t want to make the boy vomit his own stomach, so you ended up avoiding it - even though you really wanted to go on that orange coaster that looks high as fuck.
Taehyung didn’t really get your jokes. The fact that he still laughed politely is cute, but still - Jungkook and you have the same sense of humor. You two like the same stupid type of meme. It felt strange when you had to explain more than once a certain joke so Taehyung could understand.
Taehyung didn’t know your favorite ice cream flavor or your favorite soda. He doesn’t know the kind of movie you like, nor your favorite series, nor your favorite singers. You know you’re being stupid - the whole point of going on a date is to get to know each other, but every now and then you end up remembering how Jungkook knows every dumb detail about you…
What makes you realize that, as much as Taehyung is an amazing guy, you are too different from each other.
What also makes you realize that, maybe… you don’t really want to get to know anyone else.
And suddenly, an image starts to build in your mind - an image you try very hard to erase, but it’s already too strong to be forgotten.
Instead of Taehyung, you arm is locked with Jungkook’s. You’re both laughing and having fun, just like things used to be. Only now you’re not just friends.
It’s the first time in all these years that you see yourself dating Jungkook clearly. Painfully clearly.
The cotton candy you’re eating suddenly tastes like iron on your tongue. You feel your throat tightening. All of this became painful. The fact that you’re trying so hard to forget Jungkook for a few minutes, yet he’s everything you can think of. The fact that he’s in the same park as you having a date with another girl - said girl that is a friend, by the way, someone you encouraged to be with Jungkook, and now you’re hating her existence even though she did nothing wrong, all because of jealousy. There’s also the fact that Jungkook is much obviously avoiding you.
And the most painful fact of all-
“Are you okay, YN?” Taehyung asks, the smile vanishing from his lips the moment he sees your expression.
The fact that this incredible person likes you much more than you expected. It’s obvious now that you look at his eyes. He really likes you - a funny, smart and special guy, someone that didn’t check his phone not even once ever since this date started, someone that has been trying his hardest to make sure you’re having fun, a guy that is usually very confident, but at the moment looks very uneasy around you.
He’s the perfect guy. He wasn’t disrespectful, wasn’t trying to get into your pants, treated you very well. You went on dates that were far worse than this. There was nothing wrong with him. You’re also sure he’d be a loving and caring boyfriend.
But all you can think of is Jungkook.
And even though you knew this date wouldn’t work, you still accepted to come anyway. You kept Taehyung’s hopes high. Just because you were jealous.
You’re definitely the worst person on this planet.
But this has to end before Taehyung gets more hurt.
“I’m not feeling very well,” you hear yourself saying. Worry covers Taehyung’s features. “What’s the problem? Was it something you ate? Do you want to go to the infirmary?”
Damn. It hurts to see him like this.
“No. Can you… can you just take me home, please?” You ask sheepishly.
If Taehyung feels disappointed, he doesn’t let you see; he just nods instead. “Okay. Let’s go.”
And this is how you managed to destroy a perfectly fine night.
You still try not to think of Jungkook and Joy on your way back home; you don’t want to know if they’re still in the park or if they went somewhere else. The idea of what they must be doing makes your stomach twirl in a bad way. It feels like a weight installed itself on your shoulders. Everything seems too oppressive and suffocating. You can’t wait to be alone and peaceful to process all of these feelings. Fortunately, Seulgi isn’t home - she went to sleep at a friend’s house to finish a project.
For the first time, being with Taehyung feels awkward as you walk to the front door of your apartment. You can see he isn’t exactly glad. It makes everything worse.
You stop in front of the door and you turn around to face him. Everything you have to say must be said now.
“I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” You say in an embarrassed tone, scratching the back of your neck. “I ruined everything.”
“What? No!” He’s quick to reassure. God, his eyes are beautiful… “It’s not your fault. People feel ill, that’s normal.”
You gulp. Oh Gosh. He believed what you said. This is getting worse and worse… “I had a lot of fun today. Really.” You sigh and tilt your head tiredly. “Honestly, it was the most fun I had in a long time…”
“I had a lot of fun, too.” His smile is able to melt any frozen heart. “I noticed that you had a lot in mind, so I’m glad I was able to distract you at least a little.”
It gets you off guard.
He’s way more observant than you expected.
“You noticed…?” You gulp, even more embarrassed. He nods. “I’m so sorry…”
“It’s fine. Everyone has a bad day every now and then. I just have to admit that I’m kind of worried about you.”
You stare at each other in silence for a while.
“Are you?” Why suddenly all you can do is make stupid questions?
Taehyung tilts his head. “Yes. You’re always such a bright person. Seeing you being quiet these days makes me sad.” First of all: did people start to realize that there’s something wrong with you? Are you acting this weird?
Second of all: that was adorable. He’s so honest about his feelings.
“To be honest, Taehyung… I’m not really a bright person,” you end up confessing in a quiet, weak voice. You don’t know why you’re saying this. You were supposed to push him away, not pull him closer. “I think I’m just used to pretend I am.”
“You don’t have to,” your eyes widen when you feel his fingertips brushing on your cheek as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not. To suppress this type of feeling… it hurts. Believe me, I know.” For a moment, you feel your breath hitch. The skin where his fingers touched feels warm. He’s mesmerizing. His voice sounds like a sweet melody on your ears: deep, silky. “So, if you ever feel like opening up… I’m here, okay?” He widens his eyes for a second. “I-I mean- you can open up to Seulgi or Jungkook or Jimin, sure… anyone.”
This moment of shyness coming from him makes you giggle. “I don’t feel like opening up to anyone right now,” especially not to you, you think. “but thank you, Tae. It… it makes me really happy. I’m glad I went on this date with you.”
You shouldn’t have said that.
You shouldn’t have called him Tae.
Even though you’re saying the truth and there’s no second intentions hidden, Taehyung hears something else.
His hand is still resting on your cheek.
And he says nothing.
He just… stares right into your eyes.
You can’t move.
You clearly see when his face starts coming closer and closer to yours, slowly but surely. You see his heavy-lidded eyes, his clouded gaze, his parted lips. You feel the thick tension in the air around you - the electricity.
That’s when you should have pushed him away.
But you can’t.
Instead, you unconsciously close your eyes. You feel his lips ghosting over yours for a second - until his lips finally touch yours.
The kiss is suave - gentle and delicate. He doesn’t move his lips at first, merely pressing his against yours. Your body warms up in a way you haven’t felt in a long time; not because of arousal. It’s the pure excitement of being kissed.
Maybe that’s why you let him kiss you. You had forgotten how it feels like to be touched without any sexual intention. Kisses are too intimate, so you and Jungkook didn’t really kiss that often - and when you did kiss, it was always heated and obscene, tongues entangling wildly until both of you could barely breathe. It’s been a long time since someone kissed and held you like this: with gentleness and care. Taehyung isn’t treating you like a sex toy.
You melt.
Your lips part as he deepens the kiss; he is undemanding, careful and delicate. His lips taste like lip balm. No one is fighting for control, no one is desperate. It’s slow and synchronized. It’s sweet and innocent. Most importantly - it’s way different than you ever expected it to be. You never thought he’d kiss like this.
When Taehyung pulls away, the purest smile adorns his features.
“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I should have asked permission.”
“It’s okay.” And it really is. You shouldn’t, but you liked it.
“I'll… I’ll get going.” He says, the smile never disappearing. His eyes are also smiling. He stands there awkwardly in an adorable manner. “Can I text you later?”
“Sure.” You nod. “Good night. And thank you again.”
Taehyung grins. “Good night.”
Before leaving, he presses his lips on yours quickly one last time.
You watch until he disappears inside the elevator, entering the apartment and standing there alone in the dark for a few seconds.
Then you unceremoniously slam your forehead against the wooden door.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You hiss between gritted teeth. “What have you done?!”
You were supposed to push him away. You should have told him the truth - that you don’t have feelings for him, that you’re confused and almost certainly in love with another guy. Instead, you just stood there and let him kiss you. You not only kept his hopes high, you increased them.
How will you get yourself out of this situation now?!
You throw yourself on the couch, grab a cushion and scream into it. I’m the worst of the worst. I’m a walking catastrophe.
For a long time, you just lay there and torture yourself with bad thoughts. Taehyung is the nicest guy you’ve met in a really long time. If you gave him the opportunity months ago, you’re sure you’d be dating right now - and the idea isn’t even unpleasant. He’s hot and smart and funny and sweet. It’s even hard to believe that someone like him is interested in you.
But…
No. Don’t think about him.
You want to punch yourself and scream and eat tons of ice cream and cry - all at once. You’re the queen of taking bad decisions. You’re the heart crusher and friendship destroyer-
There’s someone knocking on the front door.
You sit up in a jump and frown. Is it Seulgi? Did she forget her keys?
You walk slowly around the living room, defeated as if you’ve just came home from war, your hair a mess and shoulders shrinking. You turn the doorknob and open it-
And gasp.
Because standing at your front door is the person you least expected to see.
Jungkook is casually leaning on the door frame as if his presence didn’t make you burst a lung. He looks down, eyes avoiding yours; although the hallway is considerably dark, you can see his expression well. You know him too well. You see sadness and guilt and fear in his eyes.
Your heart beats so fast that you’re afraid it’ll stop suddenly. Nervousness crawls over your skin and makes your stomach feel cold.
“J-Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re brave enough to stutter. You completely forgot that Jungkook used to come over so often that you gave him full permission to enter and leave the building whenever he wanted.
He doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he lifts his left hand and shows you what he’s carrying: a plastic bag full with a pack of…
Banana milk.
“I think we really need to talk.” He says quietly, his eyes meeting yours for the first time.
You inhale sharply.
He’s right. You need to talk.
The cold night breeze makes you tighten your coat around your body. Yours and Jungkook’s hairs sway softly with the wind. You can hear the sounds of the city from up here, in the empty terrace - cars, sirens, voices. A glowing map of endless streets and buildings extends itself in front of your eyes.
You’re both leaning on the railing side by side. You’re hyper aware of the distance between you - both physical and… spiritual. You’ve been standing here in silence for quite some time now, quietly drinking the banana milk he brought, and none of you were able to engage a conversation. The tension is heavy. It overwhelms your whole being. Nervousness makes your nerves tense. You can’t even look at him.
Dozens of questions float around your mind; what is he doing here? Why did he decide to come in the first place? What happened to his date? It’s still very early, he could have stayed with her much longer…
You also can’t help but feel helplessly excited that he is here. With you. Not with Joy. He took the initiative to meet you.
You can’t lose this opportunity.
“It’s kinda cold.” Is the first thing you say. It doesn’t even sound like you.
“Yeah.” He agrees, and he also doesn’t sound like him.
The awkwardness is almost solid right now. Things used to be so different… you can’t remember one moment in the past when such an uncomfortable feeling lingered between you.
“Hm…” you cough. “What, hm… what about you and Joy?”
Why the fuck are you asking this?, you yell at yourself.
Jungkook looks down and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about Joy or Taehyung right now, okay?”
You shrug. “I’m just trying to start a conversation.”
“That’s not how you do it.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do it anymore.”
Jungkook goes silent with this, the quick aggressiveness disappearing as soon as it came. He gulps and looks down at the banana milk between his fingers again.
More silence.
“Can I… can I ask you something?” Jungkook says after a long while. His voice is quiet, hesitant, almost being carried away with the wind.
“What?” You feel your body heating up in anticipation.
He finally looks up to you, and in the moment your eyes meet, you have this weird feeling that everything except him looks blurred.
“Why did you start dating Mike?” He asks. “I warned you about him. I mean, you used to listen to me in the past.”
Oh.
Certainly not the type of question you were expecting.
What a mood killer, Jungkook.
You avoid his gaze again, trying to hide your disappointment. “Why are you asking me this now?”
“I just really want to know.” He takes one more sip of the banana milk.
A sigh escapes through your lips and you stare at the shiny city ahead. You didn’t think you’d have to bring up memories of Mike. It’s been a long time, but it still hurts to remember him.
“I… I just…” you start, trying to organize your thoughts. “You know that Mike had like a… bad relationship with his parents, right?” Jungkook nods. “Mike opened up about this to me. I saw how much it hurt him. He was lonely, broken. And I…” this is being way harder than you expected. You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t know. I was just being my stupid self. I thought I could… I wanted to fix him. I realized that I have this heroine complex, you know?” You side eye him sheepishly. “But there are a lot of things I can’t fix… I’m better at breaking things, not fixing them.”
“Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people.” The confidence in which Jungkook says this makes, yet again, an odd sensation set in your stomach.
It is probably the first time Jungkook managed to make you blush in your entire life.
A little more silence.
“Did you actually like him?” You can barely hear his voice.
You have no idea why he’s making this questions. Why is he bringing up Mike after so long?
“Well… yes.” You can’t lie right now. “I did.” You make sure to reinforce the did. It’s in the past.
Jungkook nods and says nothing. He takes another banana milk from the plastic bag and opens it.
You inhale, building up your courage to ask something you’ve been wanting to know for a long time. He touched this subject anyway.
“You asked me something, now it’s my turn to ask you something.” Jungkook nods. You have the feeling that he already knows what’s coming. “Why did you break up with Yeri?”
“She broke up with me.”
Oh.
“Why?” You repeat. You can see that Jungkook gets clearly uncomfortable, but you’re not letting him go without an answer - and he already knows how stubborn you can be, too. He shifts, tilts his head, exhales heavily.
“It just didn’t work out.”
“But you liked her. And she liked you, too.” It was pretty obvious to anyone that saw them together.
Jungkook takes a long while to speak again. “I did like her. A lot.” The way his voice sounds fragile surprises you. Seeing him like this is very rare. Jungkook isn’t one to get all emotional too often. It seems that confessing this to you is important to him, somehow.
It also scares you a tiny bit. What if Jungkook still likes her, just like you suspected in the past?
“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.” He continues. His eyes are far away, watching old memories. His shoulders seem tense. He fiddles with the small banana milk bottle between his fingers. “But… some things aren’t meant to be, it doesn’t matter how much you want them to.”
This answer sounds… way too vague. Not what you want to hear. You know there’s more behind their break up, but just by looking at Jungkook you see that he isn’t telling you anything else. Well, this is the most he ever said about his past relationship in almost one year. It’s better than nothing.
And back to silence.
You want to push this awkwardness away. But how? You don’t feel as close to Jungkook as you always were. It’s not as if you could simply say anything in this moment… especially because, somehow, you feel that Jungkook expects you to do something, even though he came all the way to your apartment just to talk.
Say something, goddamnit!
“I’m sorry.” you blurt out.
Jungkook looks at you, but you’re not strong enough to look back at him. You hold the tiny bottle so tightly that it might get smashed at any moment; that’s just how nervous you are.
“Sorry for what?” he asks quietly. You hear the expectation in his voice… almost as if he’s holding his breath.
You can’t help but gulp. I’m not good with this type of thing.
“For everything.” you hate the way your voice sounds so damn fragile. Being sincere like this is somehow… painful. But that’s what Jungkook expects of you: sincerity. So you keep talking, although you don’t know the right words to express yourself. “I… I don’t know why things got like this between us…” you almost gasp. “I mean, I know why. We know why. And I feel very responsible.”
“You have this habit of taking the blame to yourself, isn’t it?” He murmurs. Jungkook shakes his head softly and passes his hand on his hair.
“But I was the one to propose it in the first place.”
“And I agreed.”
“Okay, but…” you have to stop for a moment to recover your breath. “I don’t know, I just feel sorry. I didn’t think of anyone except me all along. I’ve been an awful person to you… and awful friend. Also…” you need to stop again. Why is it so hard to speak? It feels as if there’s something obstructing your throat; the words hardly come out. “What I did that day at Joy’s house… it was wrong. I’m sorry that I made you upset that day.”
Jungkook sighs heavily. You’re still scared to look at him.
“I’m sorry about that day, too. I was rude to you.” Is he apologizing for calling you a slut while you had sex in the bathroom? Well, you definitely didn’t care about that. “I feel sorry too, Y/N. The way we drifted apart from each other…” he gesticulates with his finger between you and him. “The fault is on us both. I already told you, you shouldn’t take all the responsibility to yourself. We were both stupid.”
“Very stupid.” you both chuckle. You feel your heart lightening up for a moment; that strong tension still hovers around you, but now it feels like a different type of tension. Seeing that tiny smile in Jungkook’s lips makes your heart race.
You finally look at each other.
The shadows of the night paint Jungkook’s face. His hair sways with the wind softly. His dark eyes shine as much as diamonds. You never really understood the expression “to get lost in someone’s eyes…”
Well… now you do.
The small moment you two share feels fragile… featherlight. You’re scared that if you say or do something wrong, it’ll break and disappear. You’re scared to break him. To break yourself. This makes you remember that, ever since you were kids, Jungkook has always been the most fragile of you two. He has always been the most sensitive, the one to get hurt easily. Jimin was right all along. How could you do this to him? Why did you let this happen between you two?
“I missed you.” your voice is barely a whisper. Admitting this makes you feel exposed and relieved at the same time. Your throat feels even tighter.
“I missed you, too.” he confesses.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
You smile at each other.
That’s the moment you almost confess something more… your confused feelings for him. You feel the urge to say that you don’t see him as just a friend anymore; that you don’t want to be just a friend anymore.
But something holds you back.
This is maybe the moment when you’re finally being able to reconcile. You don’t know if Jungkook feels the same about you; you don’t want to push him away by throwing your feelings over him. This might destroy you friendship forever.
Then, you decide to keep it all to yourself. At least for now.
“So,” Jungkook says, sighing. “What about that group project?”
You quirk one eyebrow up. “I’m pretty sure you know about the group project.”
Jungkook giggles. “Jimin has been annoying you, too?” you nod. He shakes his head. “He’s a little shit, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He had good intentions, at least.” You shrug.
“He could be a little more subtle, though.” You can’t help but agree. “Congratulations for getting the highest grade.”
“Thank you. Jimin also told me that you’ve been talking to some important people…”
Jungkook smiles beautifully with this. “Yes. It’s a director. He said that he likes my work and that I have talent. I think he’ll invite me to work with him as a trainee for a while.” Your eyes widen in a surprised expression.
“Really?! That’s great, Kook!” It feels so nice to call him Kook again after so long. Slowly, you feel that unbearable tension vanishing and all that’s left is you and him. Two people that know each other better than you know yourselves for most of your lives. In a matter of seconds, the distance that put you apart for months seems to disappear.
Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle start falling over your heads. Jungkook frowns. “I think we should get down there.”
“Yes.” Before you can think better, you blurt out: “You can sleep here if you want.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that, because Jungkook’s frown deepens as he stares at you with suspicion. A shiver of fear runs down your spine. “Hey, that’s not what I mean.” You’re quick to say, waving your hands. “Before this sex thing started there was just us, remember? I… I miss us.”
Jungkook thinks for some moments, his eyes never leaving yours.
Then, a tiny smile makes its way to his lips - and you’re happy to see that the smile reaches his eyes, too. “Okay.”
“Wait- so Irene and Jennie made up?” Jungkook asks from the kitchen, surprised.
“That’s what it looks like. I mean, they did post some photos together on Instagram.” you say while adjusting the pillows and blankets on the mattress you placed in the living room. Yours’ and Seulgi’s friends come to sleep over a lot, so you’re used to do it - you even bought some spare sheets and blankets for this occasion.
“But you can’t be sure that they are together just because of some photos.”
“Yeah, but you know Seulgi. She jumped to conclusions. Being honest, they don’t look like a couple in these photos… but I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will change her mind at this point. I tried everything.”
“I don’t really think that they’ll make up this time.” Jungkook admits. You walk over to the kitchen and lean on the counter, opposite to him.
“I feel bad for her. Seulgi still loves Irene and she can’t get over it. I think it’s the first time she spends the night out in a long while… and it isn’t even to have fun. I’m worried.”
He pouts and shrugs, eyes focused in building up his sandwich. “Maybe we should just let her figure things out by herself.”
“But she’s doing nothing.”
Jungkook stops adding ketchup just to stare at you and quirk his eyebrows. “Y/N. I think I already said that you should stop trying to be a cupid, like… a million times.”
“I didn’t say I’d do something!” You do your best to sound offended.
“I know you, woman. I’ve seen this face many times. You look like an evil gremlin.”
“I don’t!” you cross your arms. You forgot how annoying it is that Jungkook knows you so well, because you did think of doing something to help her. You’re so tired of seeing you friend being sad all the time. All she does these days is watch Netflix and complain. She already started to look like a zombie at this point. No one can blame you for being concerned. “Besides, gremlins are cute.”
“You’re the only person on this planet that thinks this.” He shakes his head slightly, his hair waving in the process.
“Why did you let your hair grow so much?” You ask, resting your chin over your palm.
“Because I look good with long hair.” Jungkook shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.
“You cocky little shit.”
“Am I wrong for telling the truth?” He looks up at you again, playful. You can’t even tell he’s wrong: that long hair really matches his looks and personality.
“Hey, are you still helping Namjoon and Yoongi?” you ask when Jungkook starts to make a fourth sandwich. Yes, you guys do eat a lot.
“Yeah. I haven’t been to the studio in a few days, but they still call me whenever they need me.” Jungkook presses his lips together and shifts a little: nervousness. “I… I kind of helped them write a song.”
“Really? But you said you were just ‘lending’ them your voice to record demos.”
“Yeah, but I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.” He shifts his eyes to you then back to the sandwich very rapidly. “Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.”
“Aw, come on! I’ve been wanting to listen to your songs for so long!” you whine.
“I said maybe. When the right time comes.”
You don’t really get what he means with it.
For a while, you just sit there and watch Jungkook. He looks so carefree and relaxed; he moves around the kitchen as if it’s his own house. He knows where everything is in the cabinets. In a way, this really is his second house considering how often he comes… even when he used to come just to fuck during these past months. It feels so nice to see him not being all tensed up and uncomfortable around you anymore. He even starts to sing quietly, his voice as sweet and smooth as cotton candy filling up the entire house. You’re one of the few people that Jungkook feels confident enough to sing around. It’s almost a privilege.
You have been staring at him unceremoniously for so long that Jungkook frowns and looks back at you, frowning. “What?”
“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s just that… Namjoon is right. You could’ve been famous with this voice.” Jungkook smiles shyly. “And this face.” He turns around to open the fridge. “And this ass.”
He frowns. “Seriously?”
“What? I’m being honest. And don’t act like you don’t stare at my ass all the time.”
Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head in that way that means I can’t stand you.
“Done.” He claps his hands together. Four giant sandwiches, coke, popcorn and m&ms (let’s say that you and Seulgi don’t have exactly the healthier type of food at home).
“Okay. I’ll take these, get changed first if you want,” you say while taking the plates to the living room. Of course there would be some of his clothes at your place.
When Jungkook sees the clothes you chose, he stares at you with an outraged expression. “My grey hoodie!”
“…yes.”
“You said you didn’t know where it was!”
You stop and click your tongue. “…funny how I found it at the bottom of my drawer tonight, huh?”
He knows you’re lying. But you won’t tell him that slept wearing his hoodie some nights because it smelled like him. He doesn’t need to know this.
“Hoodie thief.” He says and taps your head jokingly, making his way to the bathroom. You’re wearing sleeping clothes as well - and you made sure to choose your ugliest and largest ones. You don’t want Jungkook to think you asked him to sleep here just to end up having sex.
He comes back and throws himself on the mattress by your side. You’re very aware of the immense space between you; another person could fit in here. “What are we going to watch?”
“I think I’ve watched the entire Netflix catalogue at this point because of Seulgi.” you admit, shoving popcorn inside your mouth. Jungkook takes your phone and scrolls down the Netflix page.
“There’s always something more to watch.”
You end up arguing about what movie to watch. Actually, you spend more time arguing and scrolling down through the Netflix endless catalogue than watching something.
You don’t touch each other not even once. The physical distance almost feels like a living being.
You end up giving up on Netflix and watching Avengers Endgame for the hundredth time anyway.
And yes - Jungkook cries at the ending of the film.
You wake up with the sunlight touching your face.
It’s awful. You close your eyes tightly and yawn, a little bit confused at first. What am I doing in the living room? You search for your phone to check the hour: it’s seven in the morning. Shit. Whenever you can sleep until late hours, you end up waking up early…
You turn your head to the side and freeze.
It’s Jungkook.
Now you remember everything. The TV is still on, which means both of you fell asleep while watching it. The empty plates and glasses are placed over the coffee table.
You never slept together before.
There was only one time when it happened - the first and only, when you two got wasted and the whole story started. Other than that, you never slept together. First, because you had more interesting things to do other than sleep. Second, because sleeping together feels way too intimate. It didn’t matter how tired you were after fucking, when you finished cleaning up, you’d both put your clothes back on and walk back to your respective homes. You vehemently avoided doing anything that might feel too intimate - kissing, sleeping together… after a while, you even avoided looking at each other right in the eye while having sex.
You’re not touching; there is still a great space between your bodies. Yet… just the thought that you slept with Jungkook makes your heart race.
You don’t move a single centimeter. You just lay there and… look at him.
His long hair is a mess. His face is adorably puffy, lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful. The way his chest moves up and down as he breathes is hypnotizing.
He’s seriously so beautiful.
But now, you don’t think of it in a sexual way. Back then, you’d always admire how hot Jungkook is, his godlike physique, how lucky you were to be having sex with a guy like him… not now. You just feel mesmerized by his features. The long eyelashes touching his cheeks. The tiny moles on his face and neck. Some old acne scars.
It’s odd, but right now, you realize just how much you’ve been missing him. It doesn’t make sense - Jungkook is right here, barely an arm apart from you. You made up last night and it seems that everything is back to normal. Still, you desperately miss him.
Your chest fills up with something strange and unknown. It’s sweet and painful. It makes your heart feel tight, your nerves feel like burning and your eyes well up with tears.
This is the face of the person that has been with you during most of your life.
He’s a part of you.
The most important part of you.
In this moment, your feelings for him are so great that it seems that they can’t even fit inside of you anymore.
You watch him sleep for a long time, too scared to move and wake him up. But eventually, he sighs heavily and moves his head, indicating he’s about to wake up.
His eyes finally open and he yawns.
“Good morning.” He says when his eyes focus on you, smiling softly. Jungkook’s voice sounds deep and raspy. He stretches his arms over his head. “I mean… if it’s still morning.”
“It is,” you say softly.
He stares at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes. “I dreamed that babies came from eggs. Like ostrich eggs.” He chuckles. “And women gave birth to the eggs like chickens.”
You don’t say anything and just keep watching him instead.
Jungkook finally turns his head at you and frowns, still smiling softly. “What?”
“Nothing.” You say so quietly that he can barely hear.
He gazes back at you.
Slowly, the smile on his lips disappears.
You feel the tension building up around you - but this time it feels different. It’s not a bad tension like what you experienced last night at the terrace, nor is it dense like when you two were aroused and desperate to find a place and please yourselves. This time, it feels delicate but heavy nevertheless. It makes your blood boil and your heart race.
Jungkook’s eyes are serious, heavy and intense over you. All the playfulness is gone. None of you say a word. You don’t even know if you have the power to move considering how heavy the tension is.
He extends his arm and his fingertips touch your cheek. Your skin feels burning hot. Delicately, he puts a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s strange how he’s doing the exact same thing Taehyung did, but with Jungkook, this simple touch made you feel like exploding right there.
Jungkook is the one to come closer. Closer and closer and closer. Your breathing is heavy. He caresses your cheek his his thumb. Soon, his face is right in front of yours - noses touching, eyes locked and burning with something you can’t quite name.
You stare at each other like this for a moment until his gaze finally drops to your mouth.
You both lean in for the kiss at the same time.
You have already tasted these lips multiple times before - but now, it’s different. The kiss is slow; you move your lips unhurriedly and sweetly. Yet, this kiss feels much more intense than any other you have shared before. None of those times when you kissed him desperately with luxury being the only thing on your mind comes even close to the intensity of this kiss.
It almost feels that this is the actual first time you kiss Jungkook.
Your breathing gets even heavier as the kiss deepens. His hand rests on your waist, while yours hold his neck. The sloppy sounds of your lips and tongues moving together are the only audible thing in the apartment. Your whole being screams in excitement and anticipation when Jungkook moves his body to hover over yours, not even once breaking the kiss. Your right hand grabs his smooth hair while the other travels up and down his back; your body is getting burning hot. Jungkook moans very softly. You start to feel the familiar wetness on your panties.
Jungkook leans away for a moment; his lips are red and swollen, his hair is even messier now, his dark eyes are clouded with want and something you can’t name - something so strong that he’s able to make you shiver with that look alone. He leans down again and starts to kiss and suck your neck very slowly, making soft moans escape through your lips. His hand sneaks under your baggy shirt and he squeezes your breast. Soon, his lips are on yours again and the kiss becomes much deeper. You can already feel sweat forming on your forehead. Jungkook starts to grind on you; you can clearly feel his clothed erection rub against your own core, what makes more and more strangled moans come from both of you.
This is the hottest make out session of your life. The entire atmosphere is not what you’re used to; it’s not playful, none of you say a word. No teasing, no dirty talk. All you do is try to touch each other the best you can, never once breaking the kiss. It’s as if, with this kiss, you’re having a conversation… you’re telling each other everything you’re not brave enough to say out loud.
Soon, the desperation becomes too big. There’s no time to play, you just want to have him inside of you and feel his warm skin against yours. Unceremoniously, you start to undress yourselves, kissing every spot you can find in the process - neck, chest, stomach. Your clothes are thrown around the living room. You lay on your back again and Jungkook hovers above you once more, your legs entangling around his hips as he positions his hard member on your entrance.
You always avoided this position because it is too intimate; you’re forced to look at each other like this. This time, though, it doesn’t matter. You want to look at him - and the sight of his face contorting in pure pleasure, lips parted and eyes closed tightly as he eases himself inside of you, is almost as good as the feeling of being stretched after a long time.
Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He knows he’ll hurt you if he goes too hard right from the beginning. Instead, he waits until you call his name quietly in a strangled moan - the sign he needs to start thrusting. He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs the pillow under your head tightly as he picks up his pace, slow and steady, soft groans coming from the back of his throat that make you feel goosebumps. You hold his back with both hands. You can’t shut the moans anymore.
Sweat makes your skin slippery as he thrusts faster. Jungkook licks and bites your ear, moaning right into it, and it feels that this alone could make you cum. He then leans away for a moment, creating some space between your bodies to have a better angle to keep smashing himself into you - faster and faster, stronger and stronger. The usual sound of skin hitting skin, heavy breathing and moans is all you can hear.
You said that you didn’t ask him to sleep here just to have sex - and you weren’t lying.
But this doesn’t feel like just sex.
This isn’t fucking.
The pleasure is getting unsustainable and you both feel it. You close your legs around him even tighter and pull his face with both hands, sealing your lips in another intense, desperate kiss. It’s sloppy and unsynchronized. It’s raw and rough and so full of emotions you can’t comprehend that you feel your eyes tearing up again.
What you’re experiencing right now isn’t just two people finding pleasure in each other. It isn’t simply carnal instinct.
It is the deepest and most sincere way to connect with another being - without any words, through touches only.
You never felt anything like this in your life - not with Mike or any of your past boyfriends and hook ups. This is beyond lust. This is beyond sex.
Jungkook breaks the kiss apart for a second to look at you. Your gazes lock. God, he’s beautiful. Not only his appearance, but everything about him is beautiful.
And it is right now - stating deep into his eyes - that you come to a conclusion.
Jungkook has always been a part of you. But, in this exact moment, it feels like more.
It feels that you two became one.
He leans down and kisses you again. Your lips are tightly sealed when you both come at the same time.
Your trembling fingers still hold the strands of his damp hair tightly. You caress his face softly, putting some hair away from his eyes. Jungkook kisses you again. And again, and again, and again, and again.
You’re glad when he rests his head on your shoulder again, because like this, he can’t see the tears trickling down your temples.
It’s still hard to understand what just happened. Honestly, you think you’ll never fully understand.
But one thing you do understand, one thing that became as clear as the morning sky, is that your feelings for Jungkook are deeper and stronger than you ever imagined. He’s so much more than a friend.
Yet, you don’t know if he sees you the same way.
You don’t know if he felt the same things you did or if this was just one more time having sex with you. You don’t know if he still has feelings for Yeri or if he’s developing any for Joy.
You know nothing - and this fact makes your heart hurt as if it is being stabbed…
Because Jungkook, the best and most important part of you, might never be truly yours.
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Here’s the deal. I started having a lot of pain in my lower back, legs and hips. At first, I went to the chiropractor and he did some adjustments. I seriously felt so much better.
My regular doctor had prescribed some medicine for me for an unrelated thing and it made me so sick. I’d be so nauseous that I’d have to go get fresh air...walk it off...or even splash water on my face. That had been going on even when I was in Knoxville.
Aircheck had asked me to talk about my ACM trip to Vegas when we won in 2019. I’m sure there were people who thought it was funny or maybe even crass...but they asked what I thought or what was going through my head at that ceremony...and I think my answer was something to the effect of “I was trying not to throw up” or something like that. My stomach was on fire and I felt so dizzy. My face was all flushed and hot. I thought about going to the ER there in Vegas...but I was afraid I’d miss the reason I was there...to pick up the ACM for our station. I think it was win number seven for the station...as a PD it was my third...and it was still a pretty big deal. Honest to God, I didn’t want to let anyone down. I also wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or something. When I got back to Knoxville, went to my doctor...they ran tests...gave me some medicine...and I thought that was the end of it. They still couldn’t figure out what was going on with me, though.
I left Knoxville and moved to the Tri Cities. Best decision I’ve made in years, by the way. I truly love these people. They’ve done a phenomenal job of protecting their product and their people and I believe that’s why this station is still so healthy when many other legendary stations have suffered. The stress level dropped substantially. It’s amazing what can be accomplished when the station and the people are a priority. Which by the way...XBQ has been so much like KAT Country. It’s been everything I love about radio and thought I’d never experience again. These people couldn’t be farther apart...yet be so much alike. It’s a good thing.
The main thing bothering me then...was my back and legs. Kept having some really nasty pain. The pain was so intense sometimes that it made me nauseous. My face was flushed...I had a fever...then I didn’t have one. Maybe it was my weight? I was getting up to pee a lot at night. Only sleeping one or two hours in a stretch. It was all these things that I never put together.
I wanted to get healthy. Told my doctor I wasn’t going to take that medicine that made me feel so bad...just in case that was the problem. My endocrinologist was cool with that. I started the keto diet. Actually...I did keto up until right before Thanksgiving.
I was so happy. My thyroid is absolutely hateful...so losing weight is the hardest thing to do it seems. On keto...I dropped over 30 pounds. Wow! I thought that was great!! Everything felt better. My energy levels were up. I’d get up at 4am and wouldn’t stop until 11pm...and everything was good...until my hip, back and legs started hurting again. It was so bad one morning that the guys I work with called chiropractors for me. It was awful.
The pain had never really stopped...but at a certain point you just get used to the pain and move on as best you can. That’s what I did up until a few weeks ago. If you know me, you know that I love Toys For Tots, St Jude, Second Harvest, etc. We were out with the marines working on Toys For Tots and I ended up having to miss one day because I hurt so bad. Now for me...that’s bad.
It never let up. I’ve just pushed through and tried to “suck it up” since then. That was a couple of weeks before Christmas. Y’all I seriously thought it might be psychosomatic. Maybe it was all in my head. If it hurt...I’d try to stretch or move and work it out of my body...but that NEVER worked.
So...I go back to the chiropractor. Those guys were so good to me. They can electrocute me anytime they want. (All hail the TENS unit!!) That seemed to be working...and then we had a little bit of a COVID scare at work...(everyone is okay, thank goodness). Around that time...I was running a fever off and on. Low grade. There were some other things that weren’t feeling quite right...so...just to be safe...I got another COVID test and quarantined. Still...I felt like I was ALWAYS in pain. Sometimes it was so bad...I couldn’t move or do anything in any way to make it stop. It made me want to cry. It was embarrassing. It was frustrating because I couldn’t get it to let up. It got so bad that last Saturday I drove myself to the ER to get checked out.
Urgent Care said they couldn’t help because I needed “imaging”. Well...I got that imaging done folks. Turns out...I have a scary mass on my right ovary. It’s pretty huge.
I went in Saturday night...terrified of being around sick people...but it had to be done. The pain was so intense...that my blood pressure shot sky high...and my nose starting bleeding. The doctor ordered morphine, Norco and a CT scan.
The guy doing the scan was a travel nurse. He went from being pretty chatty to sort of quiet and reserved after the test. When they injected the dye into me...he was telling me it would hurt...and it was nothing compared to what I was feeling.
I woke up two hours after the scan to the doctor on call sitting next to my bed and looking sorta weird at me. She told me they’d received my test results and everything I’d said was right on the money.
The burning, pressure, aching, tension...all of it...was related to what she referred to as “not the biggest mass” she’d ever seen...but “one of the largest”. She was surprised I’d been walking around with this thing in me for God knows how long.
Now here’s where the story goes off the rails.
That doctor at Ballad mentioned the word “cancer” about nine times in that room. That was the “suspected” diagnosis. She said I needed to follow up and see another doctor because of what could be “cancer”...and told me they’d have to see if it had spread anywhere.
Now...that was a LOT to take in. So...I did what any other person with an iPhone, an unlimited data plan and tons of morphine in their system would do...I looked that crap up on “Dr Internet”.
The next time a nurse came in...I asked her...”Umm did you guys do a CA 125 test?”
That same poor sweet nurse, who would go on to blow a vein...and push the medicine through the IV into my skin, thereby causing a monster of a bruise and making my vein get rock hard...she said in this really hushed tone...”I don’t know...I’ll ask. I saw your report. I’m so sorry.”
At this point...I’m facing my mortality. I just wanted out of there. I wanted this damn thing out of me...I wanted answers...I wanted everything to be okay.
I still want everything to be okay.
By the way...she never came back in with the answer to that CA 125 test question. So I took that as a hard “no”...or “they did it and don’t want to tell me”.
Monday I was back in the ER. Doubled over, in tears.
The doctor ordered pain medicine...that never came in the four hours I was there. That was NOT a fun time. The nurses just let me sit there. To her credit...the doctor was pretty furious when she found out they’d ignored her orders. Once again...this other doctor looks at me and says...”You know they think this is cancer?”
No. Still no test...but she made an appointment for me with a local oncologist.
Now...that CA 125 antigen test is not infallible, nor is it the end-all-be-all test for ovarian cancer. It is a marker though specifically for ovarian cancer.
So if they’re telling you that you have a massive tumor and it could be cancer...(two doctors over two visits..the word has been dropped about a dozen times...it’s also in the CT report...you’d think someone would bust out a needle...draw the blood...see what that looks like...and get you in the right frame of mind in case it is this horrible bastard of a disease!! Right? Wrong.)
The mass at the time was 10.3cm x 10.3cm x 7.1cm.
The oncologist couldn’t see me for a week...the gynecologist couldn’t see me until February 1st.
Yeah. No big hurry. I’m just having trouble walking. I’m in tears. I’m peeing...like a teaspoon at a time. I know that’s graphic...but if you don’t pee...you need to get checked. I felt like I was (and still feel, by the way) in the middle of a massive labor pain that wouldn’t ease off. It’s pain that makes you want to throw up sometimes. It’s super intense.
I went home that second time...sat down in my room...and I couldn’t help but tear up. I’ve cried two and a half times over the “state of things” since this started. Those are the “what am I going to do” tears...totally different from the “oh Lord this hurts like hell...dear God make it stop” tears.
Talked to our friend Eric who told me it was a shame I didn’t live in Nashville...because I could probably call Vanderbilt and be seen pretty quickly. Eric...was right. I’m three hours from Vanderbilt...but only an hour or so from Knoxville.
I called UT. (Go Vols!) That football situation isn’t ideal...but that hospital ain’t half bad.
Within less than an hour...the head Oncologist had looked over my CT scan and was working to get me in there ASAP. They’d have taken me that day...but it was too late in the day and I’d never make it down there in time. So...they scheduled me for Wednesday morning.
Before I walked out of the room that morning...they told me they were going to operate and get this out of me by Monday at the very latest. The schedule was full...so they needed to check on a few things before I left the hospital...just in case there was torsion or whatever.
I had a CA 125 test. That looked good from what I understand but my CT scan and sonogram looked sketchy. The mass appeared to be even larger since Saturday?!? (It showed up as being 12.6cm x 13.3cm x 8.3cm) They gave me a COVID test and told me to self isolate until my surgery...which is scheduled for tomorrow.
It was upon learning how much larger this thing had become...that I named it...”Larry King”.
I don’t know why...but that seemed to be the name that fit whatever this thing is inside me. In my mind...it looks like Larry King...holding two shot glasses. One shot glass is filled with Dewar’s...the other is filled with Metamucil. He has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...but I don’t know if he’s a “smoker” yet.
If it officially comes back as cancer...I’ll let you know. If it doesn’t...I’ll let you know that, too.
I’m not writing this for pity or attention...on the contrary. It’s all a lot for me to take in...and I’m just not sure how to process it all. Writing it out sort of helps.
In the middle of all of this over the past week...Tom Starr passed away. He was such a sweet man. There’s a picture that he took of us at CRS...it’s me...Tom...Lisa McKay and Heather Davis. I think Heather wrote a caption that said something like “it’s so hard to believe half of the people in this picture are gone”.
That was pretty heavy.
I’m still trying to process that actually. I thought the world of Tom, loved Lisa McKay (she got me when so many others didn’t)...and just to the left...there I was. I felt like a jerk for even taking a moment to feel bad for myself. There are so many other people who have it so much worse than I do. And what if there’s nothing to this thing? What if it’s just some sort freak thing? There are so many people who’ve fought so hard and powered through so much and here I am...maybe worried for nothing...getting ready to have surgery...and it feels wrong to worry about myself. Whatever is done is done and I’ll fight whatever I need to fight. If it’s not cancer (oh God please let them all be wrong) then I have a lot of things that I need to do...and other people’s opinions and judgment that don’t have any place in my head or the right to exist in my life’s body of work or otherwise. I’ll just keep praying for them.
I keep telling myself those doctors could be wrong. Until I see a pathology report...this isn’t real.
While I appreciate and am thankful for any prayers you can send up on my behalf...please don’t feel obliged to write anything on this post. Seriously. I just needed to get this all out and behind me.
I HATE “bleeding on the internet”. It’s a serious pet peeve. Not everyone is worthy of knowing everything that’s going on...nor should they be expected to care...but I realize sometimes people need reinforcement and support. I still don’t like sharing MY business on here. It feels weird. I’ll talk about things on the air...that I don’t care to regurgitate on Facebook.
I’ll talk about award shows, TV, things that are funny...pictures...but it’s not my business who you vote for or what you believe in. I’m just glad that you DO. Better to have convictions and purpose than be apathetic. Over the years...it’s been amazing to see how a simple picture I’ve posted or link (without even commenting on it...just a pic or simple URL) how it can make people lose their minds.
You will never solve life’s problems on Facebook or any other social media platform. It controls you. You/we are merely the peanut gallery from which billions of dollars are “mined” every single minute we’re on here.
The smartest thing I ever had laid on me about social media was from an interview with a Silicon Valley person that said “If you’re not creating the product...you ARE the product. Think about that.
Our world is so messed up right now. And no matter what party you’re affiliated with...it just seems very wrong to lump everyone together and vilify them all. Not everyone is evil. Not everyone is right or wrong. Writing people off is so inhumane. You really can disagree with someone and not hate them.
I remember being at a concert in a few years ago and had just learned some pretty tough stuff that was impacting a competitor, and shared that with one of the leaders that I worked with. They’d taken a huge blow...which was awesome strategically...but it happened at the same time the competitors PD had lost his mother. I remember expressing that I felt bad for the guy (specifically about losing his mother)...and without batting an eye...the guy I worked with said he didn’t feel sorry for him at all. “That’s just too bad!” He said other things but I won’t go there because that would reveal who that person is...and the person for whom he was speaking about that day. Now...in my heart I hoped that guy who up until then I’d had so much respect for...did NOT know what happened to this guys mom. It just felt gross talking to him. I never looked at him the same way again. It was all about depth. There was nothing there. Very disappointing. I once cared what this guy thought about me...but that was done. And living through this now underscores that feeling and reminds me on a personal level what really is important. That’s a lot for a workaholic like me to process.
I’m signing off now. It got sort of “ramblesque” there at the end. Sorry about that. As for all the other stuff...I’ll let you know how it all turns out.
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Unwanted Visitor
WORD COUNT: 1110
REQUEST: I am having some INTENSE period cramps, like to the point of tears. I was just wondering if you could write something with damien where he's just a sweet and caring boyfriend to his gf on her period.
A/N: these are all on backlog now, and so is my brain. a big thank you to my betas though, here’s a short piece for all y’all
If you were going to be honest, you were having a shit day. Not only had you been late to work that morning, but you had also been late because you got an unexpected visitor two minutes before you planned to leave the house that morning. Aunt Flo had decided to wreck your day before it had even begun and you were not happy about that.
Of course, her visit meant you weren’t pregnant but it also meant you had to spend the extra time to change after you were already bundled up in your winter gear. You didn’t mind the cold weather but gosh was it a pain to get everything on and then back off after your thirty-minute commute.
To make matters worse, on your way back from work you had reached into your bag only to realize that you had left your Midol on your desk and didn’t have the will to take the train back during rush hour.
You got home, greeted both your cats and promptly collapsed on the couch. You essentially wriggled out of your winter wear and left everything in a heap next to the couch. Two hours later and you hadn’t moved. Freyja had made herself a bed out of your winter coat while Zelda decided that she’d lay directly on your stomach. You weren’t gonna lie, the heat was a welcome feature. The weight, however, made things a little uncomfortable.
You managed to fall into an uncomfortable half-asleep state, barely acknowledging when the front door opened and Zelda jumping off of you to greet her dad.
“Hey, Y/n,” Damien greeted, kicking off his shoes and hanging his coat by the door. He came over and kissed you on the forehead, noticing how your clothes were haphazardly thrown on the floor. “What’s wrong?”
You said nothing, groaning in pain and curling into a ball on your side. You went limp and decided to complain to him. “I got my period like ten minutes before I left for work and I was late this morning and then I left my Midol at work but I was already on the train back when I realized and now I’m in pain.”
He frowned and disappeared into the small kitchen, opening the microwave and throwing something relatively heavy into the appliance. You watched as he grabbed his coat, “I’m gonna head to the drug store. I’ve put your heating pad in the microwave.”
He pecked your lips and put his shoes on, “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Do you want anything other than Midol?”
You smiled at him, “What did I do to deserve a fiance like you?”
You watched as his cheeks flushed, “I’ll be back.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit then.”
When you heard the door shut and the cats had returned to their posts, you rolled off the couch and stumbled up. You felt a little disoriented, feeling all the blood rush up to your head after laying for such a long time. After a quick trip to the bathroom and then to your bedroom to change into your pajamas, you grabbed the heating pad from the microwave and laid back down on the couch.
Damien came back and beelined to the kitchen. You heard the rustling of paper bags and the freezer opening and then closing again. When he came to sit next to you, you sat up to accept the drugs and water.
You put the water on a side table and settled into Damien’s open arms. He put on a show the both of you were watching together and you sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s company.
“I love you,” you whispered as if it were a secret only the two of you could know. You giggled a little bit, feeling like a child in love.
“I love you more,” he whispered back, giggling as well.
You looked up at him, at everything he didn’t like about himself and everything you loved about him. For the ten years the two of you have been together for, he’s never strayed his affections and every day you found yourself falling more and more in love with him.
“Let’s get married,” you said, looking into his eyes.
“We’re already getting married in a month, Y/n,” Damien smiled fondly at you.
“That’s just the ceremony,” you frowned. “Next week, let’s go to city hall and fill out the papers and be married.”
“Why the sudden decision?”
“I just love you so much that every time I look at you, I feel like my heart could explode. Please, we can still have a ceremony and everything. It’ll be a fun party for our friends and family, but just the thought of being able to call you my husband,” he cut you off with a kiss.
You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, the heating pad falling to the floor as you climbed onto his lap so that you were straddling him. “I love you so much, Damien. I’ve loved you since we were eighteen, long before we both thought the same thing.”
He laughed, his arms hooked behind your back to keep you on his lap. “Are you really quoting One Direction at me?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” you defended yourself. “Besides, it’s true! That song is actually us!”
“I still remember the day in the library when you came up to me to ask me to get a book on a shelf,” Damien reminisced, a goofy smile stuck on his face.
“I’m glad I asked you and not the librarian,” you slid off his lap and sat next to him, feet tucked under you and facing him. “Besides, she was scary. She never liked me either.”
“Imagine what would have happened if you asked anyone else but me,” Damien poked your side, making fun of you.
“Let’s not think about the what-ifs,” you frowned and poked him back. “Because we’re here now and you can forever get things off the top shelf for me.”
“I resent that,” he stuck his tongue out. He got up and you watched as he got a bowl from said top shelf and make a bowl of ice cream. He grabbed two spoons and brought it back to the couch.
Zelda emerged from your bedroom with her sister following and decided to join you both on the couch. Freyja wormed her way in between the two of you while Zelda opted to sit atop your lap. The TV still played softly in the background as you fell in love with the moment your small family created.
#damien hass#damien#haas#damien haas x reader#damien haas imagine#smosh#smosh games#reader#Smosh Pit#reader-insert
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Paper Rings Part 2 (Richie Tozier X Reader)
WC: 3630
Warnings: Language, kinda sexual talk, gets a bit Sad
Summary: Y/N returns to Derry with Richie, for better or worse.
A/N: Here is part 2! I was so surprised by the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the first part so here is the second part. Hope y’all enjoy (also sorry if anyone notices that the summary and stuff is slightly different, for some reason all the text in this post deleted so I’m updating it.)
The drive to Derry was surprisingly fun, full of screaming song lyrics at the top of their lungs with Richie’s hand never once leaving Y/N’s thigh. Maybe they pulled over once to fulfil Richie’s fantasy of making out in a parked car, but regardless, they got to Derry in record time.
They parked outside the Jade Orient, and Y/N could tell that Richie was starting to feel anxious. “Hey, wanna tell me what’s going through that gorgeous head of yours?” Y/N asked, shifting her position so she was facing Richie, one of her hands grasping his.
“It’s just that I haven’t been back here in so long, and I can’t remember why but I just feel like something bad happened here, and I think something bad is about to happen, Y/N.” Richie said, his voice shaking as he spoke, and Y/N felt her heart wrench.
She hated seeing Richie upset more than anything else, so she pulled him into an awkward hug, his head resting in the crook of her neck. “Rich, I’m here and I’m with you. You don’t need to worry, babe.” Y/N whispered into his hair, rubbing his shoulders soothingly.
Richie pulled away, taking a deep breath before giving her a grateful smile. “I love you so much, Y/N/N. Let’s go.” Richie said, and Y/N felt herself smile at his words. They untangled themselves and climbed out of the car, making sure it was locked as Richie had a habit of forgetting to lock both the car and their front door.
Richie slid his hand into Y/N’s as they entered the restaurant, and she squeezed it gently to reassure him that all would be well. The overpowering smell of Chinese food caused Y/N to smile widely, remembering when she first told Richie she loved him.
“You know, if this dinner finishes quick enough, we can head back to the hotel and really make the most of that room.” Richie whispered in Y/N’s ear as they waited to be shown to their table.
“You are not getting me turned on before a dinner with your childhood friends, Richard. That is a game you do not want to start.” Y/N retorted, pointing her finger at him sternly. Richie went to respond, but the waitress arrived and guided them to their table.
Richie saw a large ceremonial gong near the table and without even thinking he ran towards it, picking up the accompanying mallet and banging the gong. The men sitting at the table all grimaced, and Y/N did too, shooting Richie a disapproving glare.
“Guess this meeting of the Loser’s Club has officially begun.” Richie said, and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Must be an inside joke. Richie rushed to the three men sitting at the table with a look of shock on his face. Y/N stood there awkwardly as the friends reunited, rocking back and forth on her heels. She heard a few names thrown about during the conversation, and she tried to assign them correctly to faces.
“Hey Rich, would you care to introduce your friend?” The man that Y/N assumed to be Eddie said, pointing to her shyly. Richie gasped, realising he forgot to introduce Y/N. He moved over to her, placing an arm around her shoulders.
“Gentlemen, this is Y/N. I go everywhere with her, and she is the best.” Richie said cheekily, and Y/N rolled her eyes at him.
“So what? Is she like a PA or something?” Eddie said and Richie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
“No you fuckwit, she’s my wife.” Richie said, and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out laughing as she lifted her left hand, showing off the rings that decorated her fourth finger.
“For once in his entire life he’s not joking. I’m Y/N Tozier, pleasure to meet you all.” Y/N said, stretching her hand out to shake the hands of the other men.
“Richie, do you think you’re maybe batting out of your league at all?” Eddie commented and Richie just gave him the finger and told him to fuck off, which caused Y/N to giggle.
Pleasant conversation took place for a while, before the arrival of two more people drew their attention. Y/N turned around with Richie, and she furrowed her eyebrows at the look on his face.
“Ben, Bev, good god. You guys look amazing. What the fuck happened to me?” Richie said, standing up to greet them. They let out a polite chuckle and Y/N couldn’t help but shoot Richie a loving look.
“Ok now that everyone is here, I’m going to start eating because I’m fucking starving. Also this is Y/N, my wife.” Richie said, causing Ben and Beverly to glance between the two with shocked looks.
“I’ll give you all the brief story. We met at a party in 2009 and didn’t get together until after his SNL appearance later that year. We got engaged in 2011 and got married in 2012. I worked on SNL for a few years as a writer and now I co-write a lot of stuff with Richie.” Y/N said, taking a sip from her glass of wine once she was finished.
“Wait so does that mean Richie doesn’t write all his own jokes?” Eddie said and Y/N nodded, causing Eddie to gasp before turning to Richie.
“I knew it! I knew you didn’t write your own fucking jokes.” Eddie exclaimed, and Richie nearly choked on his spring roll as Y/N, and the rest of the table, burst out laughing.
“Oh fuck you Kaspbrak. What exactly do you do with your life, huh?” Richie retorted once he had finished eating, and Eddie adjusted his jacket almost indignantly.
“I’m a risk manager, so I go into big companies and you know… I manage risks.” Eddie said, and as if through some miracle both Y/N and Richie mocked being asleep; Richie with his head hung back, his mouth open as he faked snores and Y/N who drooped her head forward with her eyes closed. Eddie let out an offended groan, scoffing at the pair.
“Look fuck you both! That was so uncalled for.” After Eddie’s outburst the dinner progressed pretty normally, with Y/N slotting into the group quite well. The bickering between her, Richie and Eddie was next level, and her cheeks hurt from laughing by the time the main course came around.
By the end of the night they were incredibly relaxed, although the tension grew when Mike began talking about It. Y/N was understandably confused as the only outsider, but she quickly put the pieces together as soon as the fortune cookies started to dissolve into some of the most disturbing things she had ever seen.
“Richie what the fuck is going on?” Y/N said, clutching onto her husband’s arm as they backed up into one corner of the room. They were breathing fast, and Y/N let out a scream as one of the things tried to come near her.
“Get the fuck away from my wife!” Richie said, swatting at anything that got too close for comfort. Mike beat the things on the table beyond recognition with a chair, and as soon as the waitress appeared all those things harassing them disappeared.
Y/N looked around the room in shock and confusion, running a hand through her hair as she tried to process what she had just seen. She was breathing fast and hard, and it seemed that Richie could tell she was close to panicking because he cupped her face in his hands and got her to focus on her breathing.
She started to stammer, unable to form proper sentences due to the chaos she had just witnessed. Richie shushed her gently, moving his hands so he could pull her against him. He pressed several kisses to the top of her head as she calmed down, one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her waist.
“I’ve got you, Y/N/N. I’ve got you.” Richie didn’t care that all the other Losers were watching them, some in confusion and some with an unrecognisable emotion on their face. All he cared about was making sure his wife was ok.
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Y/N woke up the next morning wrapped tighter around Richie than ever before. All their limbs were tangled messily together and she was practically on top of him. As much as Y/N wanted to stay like that, she had to go get a coffee and wake herself up or else she wouldn’t leave the bed. She carefully untangled herself from Richie’s embrace and quickly threw on the closest set of clothes, which was a pair of leggings and one of Richie’s button ups, before leaving their shared room.
When she walked downstairs she found Eddie on the phone in the common area, pacing frantically as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “Myra I love you but I really have to go, ok? Bye!” With that Eddie hung up, sighing as he put his phone in his pocket.
“Things on rocky ground with the wife?” Y/N said, causing Eddie to jump slightly at her sudden appearance.
“Yeah, you could say that, though I guess we’re always on rocky ground. It’s nothing like you and Richie, though.” Eddie said, and Y/N smiled as she scratched the back of her neck bashfully.
“Thanks Eddie. I’m so glad I met Richie, honestly. He’s incredible.” Y/N said, sitting down on the edge of the armchair opposite Eddie. He shot her a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes before letting out a yawn.
“I was just about to go out and get coffee, did you want some?” Y/N said, and Eddie nodded immediately, prompting Y/N to let out a chuckle as they booth stood up. The walk to the coffee shop was punctuated with small talk and the odd jab at Richie’s expense, and Y/N felt glad that she was getting to know her husband’s childhood best friend.
“Look Y/N, can I be completely honest with you?” Eddie said while they were waiting for the coffee, and Y/N nodded, though she couldn’t help the rising feeling of anxiety that hit her thanks to Eddie’s words.
“I genuinely cannot think of a better person for Richie to be with than you. I have never seen him as happy and relaxed as he was last night, and I can tell that he would probably die for you if it came down to it, and from what I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure you’d do the same.” Eddie said with such a genuine tone that it took Y/N a bit by surprise. The smile on Y/N’s face was so wide, and she couldn’t help but pull Eddie into a brief but tight hug.
“Thank you, and trust me when I say that I know my husband, and I know how much you mean to him as well.”
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Never in her wildest dreams did Y/N think she would be in the sewers underneath her husband’s hometown, about to battle a giant, horrifying clown-spider hybrid, but life did always tend to surprise her.
“You wanna play truth or dare? Well you’re a sloppy bitch!” Richie shouted at the monster before relaying a whole heap of other insults. Y/N was standing behind Richie, clutching his hand tightly in both support and utter fear.
Suddenly Richie was silence, and he began to levitate with an unnatural golden glow in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do to my husband you bitch ass clown?” Y/N called, feeling her hand fall out of Richie’s as he continued to ascend. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she looked up at Richie, hoping and praying to any god that would listen that he made it out alive.
“The deadlights… we have to do something!” Beverly said, looking around at the group for some support. Before anyone could do or say anything, the sound of thundering footsteps alerted everyone’s attention, and suddenly Eddie was launching a pike into the open face of the clown. The hold on Richie was immediately lost and he dropped to the floor with a soft thud.
Eddie and Y/N immediately rushed to him, making sure he wasn’t injured or unconscious. “Richie, I did it! I killed It, Richie!” Eddie said excitedly, full of joy and pride. Y/N gave Eddie a warm smile before turning her gaze to Richie, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
Richie let out a groan, nuzzling his face into Y/N’s hand as he came back to reality. “You guys… you saved me.” Richie mumbled, and both Eddie and Y/N chuckled lightly.
“Actually Rich, that was all… EDDIE!” Y/N called out, pushing the shorter brunette out of the way. Due to her position she saw that It was in fact still alive, and incredibly angry. It swung one of its claws in their direction, and without thinking Y/N shoved Eddie out of the line of potential injury. The adrenaline was pumping and she didn’t even register what had happened until she felt a searing pain in her abdomen.
“Y/N oh my god!” Richie said, catching her as she stumbled from the impact. All of Richie’s fears were coming true in the form of seeing Y/N wounded and bleeding in his arms.
“Jesus Christ Y/N, you didn’t need to… I could’ve…” Eddie stammered, moving to support her other side.
“Easy boys, tis but a scratch.” Y/N mumbled, starting to feel a little weak but keeping it together for the sake of her husband and his friend.
“Y/N you’re... Jesus you’re almost fucking dying and you’re fucking quoting Monty Python. I know you’re my dream woman but god at what cost.” Richie said, the pitch of his voice raising due to the tears that started to flow from his eyes.
“Rich, if I don’t get out of here.” Y/N said, and Richie made several noises of protest, shaking his head as tears blurred his vision.
“Don’t you say that, Y/N Tozier, don’t you fucking dare say that. We’re getting you out of here. I cannot and will not have you die on my watch, because god forbid if you do, who else am I supposed to love? Who else am I supposed to have a family with? Who else am I supposed to grow old with? I don’t want that with anyone but you, Y/N. Fuck.” Richie said, sobbing openly as he cradled Y/N close to his chest.
Richie didn’t care that he had his wife’s blood staining his shirt and his hands. He just wanted to get her out of here alive and spend the rest of his life with her, like they promised each other they would all those years ago. He wasn’t a religious man, but he was praying to god that he would spare Y/N.
Richie didn’t move from Y/N’s side until they were sure It was well and truly dead. He had used his button up to stop the bleeding, and he just kept talking to her to stop her from going to sleep, but it worked. Carrying Y/N was tricky due to the tight and narrow spaces they had to get through to get out, but they quickly made it to the surface.
“We have to get her to a hospital.” Richie said, holding Y/N in his arms as she let out a groan of pain. That groan sent a knife through Richie’s heart, and he instinctively tightened his grip on her.
“We’re gonna make it, Y/N. I promise.”
--------------
Y/N awoke to the sound of soft snoring and the incessant beeping of a monitor of some sort. She felt a dull ache in her lower torso, and when she opened her eyes she was met with a fierce brightness that caused her to let out a groan. It was when she started to wake that she felt a weight in her right hand, and she could only guess that it belonged to Richie.
“Rich.” She said softly, her own voice sounding almost alien after having not used it for so long. The soft snores of the brunette opposite her were quickly replaced by a gasp as Richie realised that she was awake.
“Y/N? Oh my god you’re awake.” Richie exclaimed, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it a dozen times over. Y/N gave him a weak smile, blushing slightly at the gesture. Even after several years of marriage he still managed to make her blush.
“How long was I out?” Y/N asked, trying to sit up but wincing when she was hit with a rush of burning pain.
“Don’t push yourself Y/N, you might tear some stitches. You’ve been out for about a day. They operated and everything is fine, but you’re going to need a lot of recovery time. You nearly died, Y/N.” Richie said, his voice trailing off as he began to dwell on the events of the past day. Y/N could sense this, and she squeezed Richie’s hand tighter to let him know that she was ok. She didn’t die down there, he didn’t have to worry.
Suddenly they heard the sound of the door opening, and Y/N gave the visitor a half smile. It was Eddie, who came into the room meekly clutching a bouquet of flowers. They were by no means the best and brightest, but Y/N appreciated the gesture.
“Hey man, is she good?” Eddie asked, placing the flowers on a table next to Y/N’s bed.
“She’s awake, thank you very much Kaspbrak.” Y/N said, and Eddie’s face seemed to light up.
“Oh Y/N I’m so glad you’re ok. We were all worried sick, but no one more than Richie. I don’t think he’s left this chair since you got here. I think he nearly fought a nurse when they tried to get him out to do the surgery.” Eddie said, waving his hands about as he spoke.
Y/N went to laugh but stopped when she felt that ache in her torso again, and settled for just smiling at Eddie and squeezing Richie’s hand again. “Thanks Eddie, and Richie I won’t be offended if you leave, at the very least to take a shower. I’m not going to be kissing or fucking my husband if he smells like a literal sewer.”
Richie let out a genuine laugh, as did Eddie, and he shrugged his shoulders before standing up. He groaned at the feeling of tension in his muscles before leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.
“If I head to the hotel and scrub up before coming back here, will I be receiving any kisses?” Richie asked and Y/N smirked as she nodded her head.
“Maybe even a handjob if I’m feeling generous.” She said, and Richie’s eyes widened behind his giant glasses. He threw his head back and muttered a thank you to god before kissing Y/N’s forehead once more.
“You’re the best wife a man could ask for, Y/N. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows as he left the room, much to Eddie’s disgust.
“You guys are perfect for each other. Sharp, funny, and gross enough to keep everyone on their toes.” Eddie said and Y/N nodded her head, a loving smile on her face.
“Thanks Eddie. So, is there any reason you decided to stop by and see little old me?” Y/N asked, and Eddie nodded, crossing his legs as he turned to face Y/N.
“I want to say thank you. You saved my fucking life down there, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I know we only just met but I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer. That could just be because Richie doesn’t shut up about you, but you get what I mean.” Eddie said, and Y/N reached out her hand, gesturing for Eddie to come closer to her.
He stood up and walked to her bedside, and Y/N lightly grasped one of Eddie’s hands. “Eddie, don’t forget that you saved Richie’s life down there. Do you know how goddamn happy it makes me to know that you care so much for Richie that you would risk your actual life? I practically owe you my life, Eddie, so thank you.” Y/N said, and Eddie gave her a smile that seemed to have a bittersweet feel to it.
Eddie went to say something but was cut off by Richie’s sudden reappearance in the room. “I might’ve lied about the twenty minutes part. Turns out I can shower a lot quicker than that. So, Y/N, are you going to be keeping your earlier promise?” Richie said suggestively, strolling over to the side of Y/N’s bed and kissing her on the cheek. Eddie stepped to the side and retreated back to his chair, watching the display with a slightly heavy heart.
Y/N just rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss Richie for the first time since the sewer encounter. How so much passion and emotion could be contained in one kiss she had no idea, but it almost left her head reeling when they broke apart.
“Ok I can’t let this slide. Richie, I saved your fucking life down there so just saying, I think you should name a kid after me.” Eddie burst out suddenly, and both Y/N and Richie let out a laugh at the exclamation.
“I love you man, but that’s a bit too much. What do you think Y/N?” Richie said, and Y/N simply shrugged, making eye contact with Eddie as she did so.
Little did they know that in another two years they would be in another hospital in a similar set up, except with Y/N clutching little Eddie Tozier in her arms as the two men stared in awe at the beautiful boy, with nothing but joy filling the room.
#it#it 2019#it chapter 2#richie tozier#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier imagine#bill hader#paper rings#paper rings universe
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Race’s Quarantine Journal
( Race’s POV ) + ( Diary ) + ( High School AU )
a/n: aka me projecting
sorry this is shitty, i’m just feeling a lot rn and i wanted to get it all out
warnings: mental health, mentions of self harm and death, language
March 10, 2020
Everything has been crazy. People keep talking about some virus going around. It’s probably not too bad, I’ve had the flu before.
March 13, 2020
My school just sent me an email saying we can’t go back until April? Huh? Well at least I can finally get a break. School has been kicking my ass. I need a nice little vacation. I’ll relax and hang out with my friends. A quick little month long break ain’t too bad my senior year.
March 18, 2020
You’re telling me that my teachers are still giving work on this break? And they want me to video chat with them? Hell no. This is my vacation. I’ll just catch up when we go back to school.
March 21, 2020
So my parents aren’t letting me leave the house? It can’t be that bad. Maybe I should do my own research cause there is no way that all these shops should be closing and that I can't leave. I don't know what I’ll do if I’m stuck in this house for a month. All my friends can't leave either. Maybe we can just video chat I guess. I’ll see them soon enough anyway.
March 31, 2020
I’ve done so much research. Everything is so bad. So many people are dying. No one is doing anything about it. Why the fuck isn't anyone doing anything about it? Why are people still going out? Nothing is open. Go home.
April 1, 2020
I woke up today hoping this all was a crazy April Fool’s prank.
I wish I was right.
April 6, 2020
I was supposed to go back to school today.
Instead I got another email saying the closure got extended.
I don’t know when we’ll be able to go back.
April 10, 2020
I’ve been picking up a lot of hobbies.
Mostly I’ve been dancing. It calms my nerves. I’m going crazy in this house.
I tried painting but that got messy. I tried reading some books but words have never been the easiest things for me. I tried playing guitar with an old one I found in the garage but it hurts my fingers too much.
I’ll stick with dancing.
April 15, 2020
I don’t know what else to do. I’ve redecorated my bedroom 3 times and my parents told me if they hear me moving furniture in the middle of the night one more time they’d make me take everything down.
I feel trapped.
April 16, 2020
Maybe I should try to write in here more. That’s the only thing I can think to do. I could do a “what I did today” or a mood tracker. I might actually do the mood tracker but I know all well I won’t do it everyday. Maybe weekly? Maybe every couple days? Maybe whenever I feel like it?
Okay....today I feel: Bored.
April 22, 2020
It's Earth Day. One of my favorite days.
I hope that with the world shut down the Earth can breathe a little easier today.
Today I feel: Hopeful.
April 25, 2020
Today would’ve been my senior prom.
I actually had a date and everything, for the first time. How great would that have been?
I’m not gonna write a lot today. Too sad.
May 1, 2020
I can’t do this much longer. Everything sucks and I feel so stuck. I haven't left my house, I haven't seen my friends, my family is driving me crazy, my sleep schedule is totally fucked, I haven’t been this depressed since middle school, and I can’t do anything about any of it. It fucking sucks.
May 3, 2020
Let’s play a fun game. Okay so I’ll start with 10 fingers up and if this thing has happened put a finger down.
Okay so put a finger down if you really liked someone and you had a good thing going with them but you let the worst person in your life convince you that you shouldn't be with them and that they were the problem so you had to hurt the person you really liked to make the worst person feel better cause they manipulated you and took control of your brain and then the person you liked ended up dating one of your friends and you couldn't even be mad at them cause they were so happy and cute and you were happy for them both but then they broke up and you don’t know if it’s cool to talk to the guy you liked cause your friend is the ex and you haven't talked to them in a long time and they probably hate you cause you hurt him and he wouldn't understand cause your excuse is so shitty and you guys are now so different and life is just really hard and you think about what y’all had and miss it so much cause it was so good and thats all you want, to be loved, and you know it’ll never be the same so you don't even bother.
I’m down to 9 fingers.
God I fucking miss him.
May 4, 2020
For a long time I’ve convinced myself I don’t deserve love and I really think it’s true. That’s all I’ve ever wanted but I’ve done so many bad things what if no one wants me?
Everyone hates me. My friends only pretend to like me. I don’t understand why someone would want to be friends with someone like me. I’m so difficult.
May 6, 2020
It feels like I dropped out.
I’m not doing any school work. I missed my prom. I probably won't have a graduation ceremony. Worst part is, I didn’t drop out. I can’t just move on. I have to just sit with this.
I guess it's not hitting me as hard as some other people because I didn’t even plan to be alive this long so I was already prepared to miss them. It’ll probably hit me soon tho. I just won't let myself breakdown. Not yet.
May 8, 2020
Can I just say something?
I’m so fucking tired of being alone.
Not just cause quarantine, like in general. I want to be loved but I have to fuck everything up all the time, God why am I so stupid all the time?
And I don’t mean my friends just saying “oh I love you!” like no, thats nice, but at the end of the day that’s not the kind of love thats going to marry me, or hold me when I can’t sleep at night, or cook dinner with me.
I’m so tired of being undeserving and undesirable. What is wrong with me? What does everyone hate so much?
If I’m being honest, I cry every night because of this loneliness I feel. I just want it to stop.
May 10, 2020
My panic attacks are getting worse. For no reason.
I panic over things that 3 months ago I would've just pushed away. But now this isolation and fear is making everything so bad.
I started seeing things again. I started picking and twitching and shaking again. I haven't been this bad in a long time. How long before the thoughts come back? The urges? Will I be able to stop them this time? I hope so. I really hope.
May 13, 2020
So I’ve officially reverted back into my childhood state of watching old cartoons all day for any sort of serotonin. It's working a little ngl.
May 15, 2020
I picked up my yearbook today. I drove to my school and they handed it to me through a window. Can’t get it signed, can’t see anyone, can’t do anything.
I don't know if I have the strength to look through it right now knowing I might never see these kids again.
May 17, 2020
I had one of the worst episodes in a while today.
I saw this video and I don’t wanna talk about it cause I don't want to think about it but it made me twitch and shake for so long.
I couldn’t stop. I was so scared. I picked at my skin for a long time. I couldn't open my eyes. My head hurts from shaking for so long.
I just want to go to sleep.
May 20, 2020
My parents are so clueless. Do they really not know? Do they choose to look past it? Do they know and not want to say anything?
Can they not see that I’m not fucking okay?
There is no way they don’t notice how I twitch and shake and pick at my skin. They can’t ignore my tear soaked face almost daily. They might not see when I wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and desperately try to calm myself. But they never ask me if I’m okay.
The answer is “no” if they ever decide to ask.
May 23, 2020
I’m official a high school graduate!
Though it doesn't really feel like it.
I drove to the school and picked up my diploma and that was it. A masked “congratulations” and a piece of paper and that was that.
Congrats to me though. I guess.
May 27, 2020
I feel so empty.
Actually, I don't feel anything.
I just sit here. I don't remember when I last ate. I haven’t gotten out of bed. Haven’t watched anything. Just thinking.
Today is not a good day.
I don't want to be alive today.
I just hope the urges stay at bay. I don't know if I can stop myself this time.
May 30, 2020
I wish I was dead.
Everything I love is being taken away from me.
I want to kill myself. I haven’t felt like this in years. Everything is only getting worse and I can't stop it.
I want to but I can’t. If I try and fail thats selfish cause I’d be taking up space in the hospital for people who actually need it.
I’m useless. I’m powerless. I want out.
May 31, 2020
I’m so sick. I’m so weak. My head is killing me.
I’m not sick, I just feel shitty. Not an uncommon feeling.
I don’t know how much longer I can fight off the urges.
I’m sorry.
I wish I was sick. It would make this whole thing easier. I feel like this will never end. I want out.
I’m sorry.
#newsies#newsies fic#newsies fanfic#fanfic#fic#musicals#musical fic#broadway#broadway fanfiction#race#race newsies#racetrack higgins#racetrack#racetrack newsies#high school au#newsies modern au#diary au#diary story#quarantine#angst#newsies angst#race angst#newsies race angst
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Okay lets go full Crack ship and give John a real jealous moment... MJWren O.o for the ship thing.. cuz... the queens... need no king right? RIGHT?
THE QUEENS NEED NO KING. I couldn’t have said it better myself, Jane!
General:
Rate the Ship - Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - Darling, with queens like this, not even Death herself could tear them apart.
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Hard and fast, which is only natural when you’re meant to rule the world together.
How was their first kiss? - Messy, lots of tongue and lipstick smears.
Wedding:
Who proposed? - Wren. She proposed on Halloween while dressed up as Morticia from the Addams family, while MJ dressed up as Elvira.
Who is the best man/men? - Sean, Mac, and Bobby!
Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - Randy, Jane, Rowan
Who did the most planning? - Wren, although MJ helps some. Wren wants her opinion, just to make sure it’s perfect.
Who stressed the most? - Probably Wren because she wants to make MJ smile and have a good time. And she swears, if Bobby doesn’t get his shit together--
How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 Wren tried her best to give MJ the wedding she would never forget. | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Colin, MJ’s mom (Wren threatened at knife point--you don’t fuck with her wife), the Seeds, and Miss Mable.
Sex:
Who is on top? - Wren loves to top for her badass wife. It’s not what you take, its what you give...right, Johnny Boy? MJ does like to take charge at times, and Wren is always...down...for that.
Who is the one to instigate things? - Oh, absolutely both. They’re heathens, honestly, and can’t keep their hands off each other. Wren is a touchy person, she’s gonna be touching MJ in one way or another, which gets returned, and then it escalates quickly.
How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now. Very. They’re living their best Dark Queens life right now, and nobody would dare try to stop them.
How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head. There’s no horse head, but well...those rumors about John having a sex dungeon had to start somewhere, y’all.
How long do they normally last? - Fucking ever. They stamina of these two...man, they can get it. I applaud them, really.
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Oh hell yeah. You kidding? That’s a tattoo of the scales of justice on Wren’s back, darling. Fair is fair.
How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. They have the range, really. It’s whatever they’re in the mood for.
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory. TONS. Wren loves to snuggle with her wifey, okay?
Children:
How many children will they have naturally? - Together? None. MJ has 4 from her previous marriage.
How many children will they adopt? - Wren adopts MJ’s kids willingly and lovingly.
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Depends on the ages of the kids, but they’re working at it together.
Who is the stricter parent? - Neither of them, really.
Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Yeah...I think Wren would do it for the show of it, but let’s be honest, they’re gonna teach them how to do it right and to be safe.
Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - They’re both pretty good about it, actually. And honestly, the teamwork really makes it work. Power Couple.
Who is the more loved parent? - How dare you? The Goth Queens of Hope County are very much loved. Wren is only an evil stepmother to literally everyone else but the kids.
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? They’ll both go. Wren wants to hear how they’re doing, and MJ isn’t afraid to throw down with shitty teachers. Balance.
Who cried the most at graduation? - Oh god, both. They were a fucking blubbering mess, sneaking drinks of the wine in MJ’s purse.
Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Both of them. Wren is paying for it and signing paperwork as her wife yells and screams in the face of the arresting officer. Wren smirks and flips them off on the way out.
Cooking:
Who does the most cooking? - MJ, because she’s amazing and Wren fucking loves her for it.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither of them. They love food so damn much.
Who does the grocery shopping? - MJ used to, but Wren convinced her to just let it get delivered. It takes too much damn time, and MJ can spend that with the family instead.
How often do they bake desserts? - More like they get baked (what are walk-in closets for, am I right?). Mary Jane is the baker of the family. She actually starts to make Wren cheesecake and all that. Wren is living her best life.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - I would say meat, but gotta throw the veggies in there for the kiddos.
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - MJ! Wren can’t cook to save her life. Wren will, however, take her out to different restaurants to show her off.
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Mary Jane. Wren isn’t the going out type, but she will absolutely do it if it’s something for the family. She’s all about family moments.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Wren. She’s so damn hopeless.
Chores:
Who cleans the room? - Wren does.
Who is really against chores? - I don’t think either of them really like it, but it just needs to happen.
Who cleans up after the pets? - Both.
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither of them. You know how much that thing costs?
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Wren because she can’t stand people being in her space, it freaks her out. Especially if its the in-laws. MJ’s mom eventually learns that Wren isn’t above pulling a knife on her.
Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Both. And they’ll both go “babe! Look what I found!”...it’s a happy occasion.
Misc:
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Both of them, honestly. They try and join each other any chance they get. Sometimes that’s their “time away”.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Wren with maybe one of the kids to keep her company.
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Halloween and Halloween 2.0--which does take place conveniently on December 25th. (nobody fucking cares what you think, Mable).
What are their goals for the relationship? - To enjoy and commit to each other fully. They’re in it 110%.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Both of them on a day they’re kid free. They need the extra sleep. But normally they’re both up early.
Who plays the most pranks? - Both. They go back and forth, but most of the time its against MJ’s brothers.
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Word Count: 6.5K
Warnings: I’m going, to be honest, I did not proofread this. There will spelling errors so I hope that doesn’t bother y’all too much
Masterlist
For years I have been alone. I was orphaned and then widowed. Never did I imagine a life like this.” Elisabeth stared at Jeff but he did not move an inch.
“I want nothing more than to make you feel safe,” confessed Jeff.
“I know that.”
“He will come for you. I know he will because I would go to war at the idea of marrying you.”
“I will fund this war,” assured Elisabeth.
“He will have allies that David does not. With his alliances, he will crush us.”
“No because this kingdom has me now. I will give the king and this kingdom whatever they need.”
Just the day before, Hal had declared war on King David and his kingdom. He claims it was because King David was rude to him and insulted him and the duchy. His advisors declared war thinking they could crush an unprepared kingdom and get new lands. Hal saw this as an opportunity to declare himself a king by conquest.
Unknowingly, Hal was alone. His allies refused to invade another kingdom especially because Elisabeth was a duchess and a premier lady in the court. Her money meant endless supplies for King David’s army except Hal never released the accounts held by the duchy to Elisabeth. She had access to her personal accounts and the one meant for her husband and herself. That left 500 million florins at his dispense, a big chunk of Elisabeth’s 3 billion fortune in anyone’s opinion.
“We have to go to David.”
Jeff grabbed Elisabeth’s hand as the two left their room and went straight to David and Natalie. David was having a meeting with a room full of people to discuss how to go along with this new war. It had been pointed out that David was a new king with only one ally, a very rich woman. He was refusing to marry the daughter of a powerful king and that was leading to more arguments because the king needed allies more than ever. His court and closest friends refused to marry giving David more allies and after pressuring Elisabeth and Jeff, he did not want it to happen again.
“I can give you more allies,” announced Elisabeth.
“And how do you plan on doing that? You are already married!”
“Let her speak,” said David.
“Promise my children to theirs.”
“Elisabeth-“
Elisabeth interrupted the king, “10 million florins for my future daughter’s dowry. My son’s inherit my fortune and it will be divided by the number of sons I have.”
“Are you sure?” asked Natalie.
“It will give the king allies and provide strength for my family. I only ask that I have final approval over my children’s future spouse.”
“What happens if you have no children?”
“What happens if you have all boys or all girls?”
“Others will just have to trust that I will have enough boys and girls. It will not be a definite promise but one with hope.”
“Jeff, what do you say?” asked David.
“I trust in my wife.”
“Then we get the message out. Their alliance for a marriage.”
Things were moving quickly. Jeff and Elisabeth held audiences for potential allies. The kingdom had taken up arms ready for an attack and with Elisabeth’s money they had all the supplies they needed. Marching half way to David’s kingdom, those left in the duchy had forsaken Hal as their duke and proclaimed his eldest son Edward, Duke of Nemours at the age of 5. The duchy was in anarchy. Some supported Hal, some Edward, and with time, a third faction had rose. Some were proclaiming Elisabeth to be the true ruler of Nemours despite only being the wife of a dead duke. With Hal and Edward being the last of the line, without them, the duchy would more than likely be proclaimed a republic in their death. As Elisabeth had been taught, democracies show monarchies they don’t need them to survive and other kingdoms could not allow a small duchy to threaten them in such a manner.
Elisabeth had no claim to Nemours but she did have a claim to her father’s kingdom. This small war between a new kingdom and small duchy was proving itself to be more than that. Soon the entire continent had joined for their own reasons.
“We have plans yet we both know the way things are going we will never fulfill them,” started Elisabeth.
“We already talked about this.”
“We have talked about us not having sex but we now how to talk about how we are promising children we aren’t even trying for.”
“You promised our children.”
“You agreed,” fought Elisabeth.
“I know I did but those were empty words because I knew we weren’t having sex.”
“We need children. We have been married over a year and now we are at war. It is serious now Jeff.”
“You want to have sex now?”
“Jeff I am begging you- “
“You shouldn’t have to beg for sex Elisabeth.”
“Not under these circumstances but that does not mean anything. Jeff do you not understand that this is a full war! Something this continent has not seen in centuries. Either we are the conqueror or the conquered.” Of course, Elisabeth was right.
He had no idea what he was doing in the grand scheme of things and neither did David. Elisabeth was the only one who really knew what it meant to be noble so her words were trusted more than anyone else’s in the room.
“I don’t want to be together like that, not because we married off our children before they were even born.”
“Did you know I was betrothed half a dozen times before I was married the first time?”
“You were?” asked Jeff.
“I was barely a day old before my father tried to secure a marriage to a crown prince of a nearby kingdom.”
“What happened?”
“He died from pneumonia a couple months later aged 8.”
“What about the other ones?” asked Jeff.
“I don’t remember all of them. The second one was his younger brother who died not soon after. The third was some rich lord from some random kingdom who wanted me for my money.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Betrothments don’t mean anything at such a young age. People die, people change their minds, and alliances shift all the time. Our children will be powerful,” argued Elisabeth.
“Powerful pawns,” clarified Jeff.
“Powerful players. Meet me in the middle Jeff.”
“Give me a day to think about this.”
“We don’t have a day when it comes to war.”
For years Elisabeth understood her first night with her husband would not be a pleasant or a joyous one. It was understood that women just lay there and let men do their job. When Jeff did not complete the bedding ceremony Elisabeth had not expected that. After their one-year anniversary he had still not touched her.
That night after their talk, Elisabeth and Jeff finally consummated their marriage it was one an embarrassing night and an awkward next morning. The pair avoided each other as much as possible until they had audiences with various nobility and royalty. Then came the King of Schleswig.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s my father successor,” replied Elisabeth.
“King Richard of Schleswig!”
“Your Majesty.” Jeff and Elisabeth bowed since he was a king and they were not.
“Princess Elisabeth congratulations on your marriage. I was saddened to hear I did not get an invite.”
“Thank you, your majesty. The marriage was an intimate affair but King David planned a second grander wedding but the war hinged things.”
“Yes, well perhaps once this war is over, we can all celebrate.”
“And how is the queen?” asked Elisabeth.
“Well thank you. She is sorry she could not travel but under the circumstances she wants to assure you that she will try as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.” King Richard nodded and walked away joining the crowd of royalty and nobility.
“Why couldn’t his wife make it?” asked Jeff in a whisper.
“I think she just gave birth again.”
“And I’m guessing there were complications.”
“Queen Catherine has not been able to give the kingdom an heir in over ten years. If divorce was permitted, he would have ended the marriage a long time ago,” whispered Elisabeth as another noble came up to them.
As Duke and Duchess of Nemours, the two granted audiences on behalf of the king all day. David was preoccupied with details regarding the war that still in the midst of actually battling. Everyone had their armies ready but no one was ready to attack first.
Rumors spread that Hal and the Nemours army planned on starving out David’s kingdom so they would not be the reason to attack without a real purpose. His change meant that Hal was either weak or stupid because he originally planned on attacking so now everyone had to figure out what exactly this meant.
“I don’t understand how David can do this almost every day,” complained Jeff.
“It’s called being a king,” smiled Elisabeth.
“Do you know he is planning on naming Jason regent in his absence. In Jason’s absence Natalie will take over.”
“He didn’t offer you such a thing?”
“He will name his younger brother his successor in the document with me as his regent until his brother’s 21stbirthday,” explained Jeff.
“Should David die before.”
“Yes.”
“You know they are calling for me to become Duchess of Nemours.”
“David told me.”
“I have no claim but I was thinking neither do you.”
“Where are you going with this?” asked Jeff.
“If they don’t want Hal or his son then you should try to claim it.”
“As what? A commoner?”
“A duke with money and connections. I’m already being demanded by the people I would rather you take it then I,” explained Elisabeth.
“I cannot do that.”
“You will, with me by your side. I can give you anything you want.”
“What if I don’t want what you have to offer?” asked Jeff.
“Then think about your family, our family. We have to start thinking about everything now.”
“How well do you think others will accept me when I am a foreign invader?”
“In Nemours case, they are the ones invading. They brought this upon themselves,” assured Elisabeth.
“The act of one man does not reflect all the people,” fought Jeff.
“No, it does not but we are living in an age where one man does represent a mass of people. A war is coming Jeff and we must be the victors in all of this. We both know what happens to those who loose. My fortune will be gone and possibly our lives as well.”
Jeff thought about everything for a while and then nodded at Elisabeth, “I understand.”
“Please let’s go to bed.”
In an effort of distraction Elisabeth attempted to seduce her husband but her efforts failed. Jeff’s mind was somewhere else and their second time as a couple was no less awkward than the first time. Elisabeth prayed to whoever would answer her calls for a child. Even at a dangerous time like this, a child would fix a lot of things.
The next morning Jeff was out of it. His attention span was short, his wondering around the castle in an effort to leave his duties behind was successful. Elisabeth began the duties of the day without him and no one was prouder than David. Elisabeth’s diplomacy had gained him enough allies to avoid an invasion and secure himself as a powerful king with the right kind of allies.
“Princess Elisabeth if I could have a moment.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The two went to a corner of the room filled with advisors, diplomats, and nobles hoping to get a second of privacy.
“I have been told that you and Jeff have finally begun… your… marital duties.” David was awkward.
“That is correct,” smiled Elisabeth. The ladies, Elisabeth had almost forgotten all about them. David gave her ladies and maids who she believed to be spies. Jeff, as her new husband was meant to replace them but because he did not know the protocol of the household, he seemed to have forgotten to be told. At least now her suspicion was confirmed.
“With these new alliances, I assume that is the reason for this new… thing.”
“You and I both understand the difficulties of war. An heir secures a kingdom with faith.”
“I want to thank you for everything you have done. God knows I might have faced an invasion sooner if it weren’t for you.”
“I wanted to tell you since you deserve to know, Nemours is facing anarchy- “
“I heard.”
“There a at least three factions emerging from the mess. One supporting Hal, one supporting his young son Edward, and the other calling for me to rule. No doubt another faction calling for a republic should come soon. I am pushing Jeff to declare himself Duke of Nemours by conquest should Hal attack.”
“I did not think Jeff would ever agree to that.”
“Jeff will do the right thing for his family.”
“Are you already- “
“No, but we are trying for children so it is expected,” interrupted Elisabeth.
The two were dragged away from each other for different reasons. David needed to talk to council members who were put together to deal with the upcoming war that wasn’t really a war. No one had attacked first so everything was simply pending.
Amongst talking with the wives of nobles and diplomats, Jeff reached for his wife and escorted her to another room. The room had few people in it but Jeff ushered them out.
“What are you doing?”
“Matt says he likes one of the girls.”
“What girls?”
“The daughter of some Lord… William… Winston, something with a W and he really likes her. We could push for a marriage; I know Matt would not completely deny a marriage with her.”
“Lord Westly?” asked Elisabeth.
“Yes that one!”
“What does she look like?”
“Blonde, sort of tall? Is he important?”
“Lord Westly Marlborough is the Minister of War for King Frederick of Weimar.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jeff.
“King Frederick has the largest kingdom in the continent. Weimar marries within the kingdom; they believe it taints the blood to marry foreigners. Rumor is all people who live there are all inbred.”
“So Matt can’t marry her?”
“More than likely no but she is the daughter of a lord, not a princess. They would want something big in return.”
“How do you know about this?”
“After the declaration of war, I thought it would be best to know everyone who would be against us and with us in this whole thing,” answered Elisabeth.
“Does David know?”
“No, but I was also looking at potential spouses for our children.”
“Do I tell Matt that it will never work out between them?” asked Jeff.
“I can tell him. Besides- “
The door busted open, “Your Highnesses! His Majesty request your presence in his private chambers.”
They could hear the yelling from far away. It wasn’t just David yelling, but several other people. It was the first time Elisabeth heard or saw him get angry. Jeff and Elisabeth entered an already packed room as Natalie saw them and rushed towards them.
“What is going on?” asked Jeff.
“They attacked. The Duke of Nemours and his army slaughtered over 300 families on the east. We were unprepared but most of the nobles have left and the diplomats are refusing to talk. I think David means to go to war by tomorrow morning.”
“Who will be leading everything?” asked Elisabeth.
“We are unprepared. This kingdom has never faced a war before. We are in over our heads.”
“Please tell me he has at least mobilized the army?”
“He has but not one person in the army has ever been in a war. How do you think that will work out?” asked Natalie.
“There you are!” Heath found his way to the three of them.
“We were wondering where you two were,” spoke Mariah.
“Please tell me you have some sort of plan,” begged Heath.
“Me?” asked Elisabeth.
“You are the only one who knows this type of stuff.”
“I have never experienced a war. There hasn’t been a war of this scale in centuries. I am no help.”
“What about our allies?”
“There has been no treaty, no real alliance so all it has been is talk… we are at war with no definite allies.” Elisabeth had freaked out towards the end. Saying this all out loud had changed something within her.
“Are you okay?”
An unexperienced army, clueless generals, no allies, and they were now at full blown war. There was no turning back in all this. Elisabeth rushed to David, “We tell everyone I am pregnant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We announce formally that I am pregnant and… sell… my child to the highest bidder, in this case someone who will be a strong enough ally to help us through this. Betrothments are broken all the time or in a couple of weeks we can say I suffered a miscarriage.”
“You are serious?” asked David.
“We act now or we face being conquered within the next couple of days.”
“Jeff?” asked David.
“I agree with my wife.”
“Then we make a formal announcement of my heir and yours Jeff.”
The court filled with King David’s loyal subjects in the great hall in the middle of the night, all in their night clothes. David stood up in full regalia, a stark contrast to the more relaxed clothing of everyone in the room, and made his announcement.
“For years I have put off naming an heir, but tonight, under harsh circumstances, I shall formally declare my heir as my younger brother whom you all know lives away. But I also would like to announce that The Duke and Duchess of Lamberg are expecting their first child.”
The crowd went into applause with several diplomats coming up to the king. No doubt to secure a marriage with David, Jeff, and Elisabeth. Of course, Elisabeth had her eyes on someone else. The Duke of Kassel and the Duke of Waldeck. The two were brothers whose Duchy of Schwerin had been split between the two and only brothers by their father, the last Duke of Schwerin. They were neighboring dukedoms with good-sized populations and good relations. Their cousins were low lords but were powerful enough to give them a family who had resources.
Luckily Elisabeth saw the brothers and rushed to them first, “Your Serene Highnesses I am glad you two are still here,” smiled Elisabeth.
“This attack is very important to us both since our duchies lie on the west side of King David’s borders.”
“It is to my understanding that you have a son barely two years old,” smiled Elisabeth at The Duke of Waldeck.
“He is three actually,” corrected The Duke of Kassel.
“And a strong heir,” smiled The Duke of Waldeck.
“Perhaps we should talk about securing our borders as your family already knows all about that.”
The four talked, in reality three talked and Jeff listened and nodded at whatever his wife said. She knew what she was talking about but she did not secure her child’s marriage.
As the couple went back to bed Elisabeth explained that she did not want to give up her first-born daughter to a mere duke when her future daughter could become a queen and the kingdom of Weimar is what Elisabeth had her eyes set on.
Instead, her first born son and either of their dukes first born daughter would be betrothed. The Duke of Kassel was an aging bachelor and the Duke of Waldeck was married and his wife was expecting a second child any day now. It was the first alliance Elisabeth secured for the kingdom and her family.
“What happens when you are not pregnant?” asked Jeff.
“They will not know I could just be late giving birth. Besides we are trying for a child, we could already have one as we speak and not know it.”
Elisabeth gave Jeff a little smile as she walked up to him. Their first two nights had been embarrassing but Elisabeth would not let that get in the way of conceiving an heir. Like before, the entire act was awkward, but as Jeff came in her he whispered three little words into her ear that Elisabeth never expected.
“Are you going to say anything?” asked Jeff.
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t mean for it to come out.”
“So you were hiding it?” asked Elisabeth.
“I knew you did not feel the same way.”
“I could. You never know.”
“The fact that you have not said it back, gives me my answer.”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Elisabeth.
“We could pretend it never happened,” suggested Jeff.
“Impossible. I will be thinking about it for days, weeks even.”
The two didn’t speak about it. Days turned into weeks and the two avoided each other as much as possible. War raged on with the trenches on the east side of the kingdom barely getting inches. Hal was losing men in the fields and support back home. About two months into the useless war, Hal finally lost his support and his son was claimed Duke of Nemours in a confirmation. Most men would abandon him, but he promised a conquered kingdom and riches, Elisabeth’s riches, with it.
But Elisabeth was in fact pregnant. The lie told at the beginning was now truth and the court could not be happier especially during such troubling times. Her money was funding the war and she now spent her time at the make shift hospitals where wounded soldiers came to. The women of court had stopped with the beautiful dresses and parties and dedicated their time and money to the war effort. It was a hideous sight staring upon dead and mauled men, but this was war.
Kingdoms rose up against others, civil war raged on in other parts of the continent. The world did nothing but watch thousands of men die because one man got his feelings hurt. At just over 2 months pregnant, Elisabeth held daily audiences with foreigners as King David and his men toured the front lines. Jeff had always gone with them and Elisabeth feared for his life. One stray bullet and she could find herself a widow again.
“Where is he? Do you think he’s okay?” asked Elisabeth.
“They should all be back within the hour. We had everything scheduled and they safety was at the top of the list,” assured Natalie.
“Maybe sitting down will calm you down,” suggested Mariah.
“It will only make me want to walk around more.”
“What would Jeff do?” asked Corinna.
“Where are you getting at?” asked Natalie.
“Well if Jeff was here, what would he do to calm you down?” asked Corinna to Natalie.
“I don’t know… tea?”
“Then we will get you tea and you can take a nap or something. All of this worrying is not good for the baby,” smiled Corinna.
The tea worked and after much convincing, Elisabeth was able to go to bed until she was woken up by Jeff. He was about to apologize until his half sleepy wife grabbed him into a tight hug. She wrapped herself around Jeff’s figure hoping to never let him go.
“Natalie was telling me that you were worried.”
“I thought you would die out there.”
“Thanks to you I am the third man of importance in this kingdom. I was protected by five different men today I would not have died out there.”
“I don’t want you to go out there anymore.”
“Your choking me a little,” coughed Jeff.
“Sorry!”
“I did not say I did not like it,” joked Jeff.
“I am not in the mood to laugh right now.”
“Why are you so upset?”
“I don’t want you to die! How hard is that to understand?” yelled Elisabeth.
“These feelings are new?”
“Well I am carrying your child, we are in the middle of war, and you confessed that you loved me. Of course I am worried for you.”
“Does that mean you love me back?” asked Jeff.
Elisabeth was taken back by the question, “I can’t answer that.”
“That is fine, but thank you for worrying me. I have not had that type of attention since I left home.”
“You don’t talk about home,” observed Elisabeth.
“I have a mother and father.”
“Do they know you are about to have a child of your own?”
“They do. They are very excited.”
“Why do you not talk about them?”
“I do. I just don’t talk very often about them.”
There was a small silence between them, “Please tell me you will not go back out there.”
“I have to. David says we have to be on top of everything and that means showing the people we appreciate them getting slaughtered all because one man wants some fame.”
“Even if we find peace with Hal this whole continent is in war. It will find us no matter what negotiations we make with whoever is willing to talk. Years of mistreatment and hatred have manifested itself into war because that is what it does. A simple dispute between two men brought in dozens of others,” explained Elisabeth.
“You’re scared,” observed Jeff.
“Of course I am Jeff is this baby is not making things any better.”
“I will ask David to not send me back there if it will make you feel better.”
“You can’t,” cried Elisabeth.
“If it will make you worry less, than I will make the effort.”
“The only thing that will make me worry less it this war being over. I am willing to sacrifice you for a couple of months or even a couple of years if it means that I will have you for the rest of my life.”
Jeff started to tear up at Elisabeth words. Though she had not said she had loved him back, Elisabeth had expressed feelings that Jeff did not know she had. The two went into a strong hug again as Elisabeth cried in his arms. Months of barely knowing each other, this child brought them together faster than they had expected.
“I am so tired.”
“Let’s just go to bed. We can talk again in the morning.”
The two talked things out and Jeff understood that as his wife grew more because of the pregnancy she would be needing more of his attention. David was more than accepting about Jeff stepping away and focusing on his wife but David was getting anxious with how things were going.
“How many?” asked David
“At least 10,000 Your Majesty.”
“How many are expected to die in the next year?”
“At least 5,000 more if the fighting continues on.”
“Might I make a suggestion,” interrupted Elisabeth.
“Go ahead Your Highness.”
“Hal is the focus of this whole thing. What if we take Hal out?”
“Please explain Princess Elisabeth.”
“Assassination and I can pay for it. Of course, the finger would be put on us but that does not mean anything if this war is over and no more people have to die,” explained Elisabeth.
David, trying to save as many lives as possible, was the first to object to it. When he was told that Hal’s death would save those lives, he reluctantly agreed. Elisabeth gladly gave her money and they waited.
After two weeks, the death of Henry, The Duke of Nemours was announced. The matters of his death were suspicious and his only child and son Edward was named the final Duke of Nemours. The war was not over but the eastern front was subdued for a time. The young boy now had to deal with the effects of war with some wanting to overthrow him, some wanting to continue the war, some wanting to go home to repair the damage the war had done, and he was still an orphan at the end of everything.
That was perhaps Elisabeth’s greatest regret in having a hand in Hal’s death. At about 6 months pregnant, Elisabeth heard about the death of the little Duke of Nemours. While Elisabeth was quick to mourn she was even quicker to get an army into Nemours and declare Jeff and her Duke and Duchess of Nemours.
“Will you look at me?”
“His body wasn’t even in the ground before you invaded.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“You did not have to declare us their rulers.”
“I understand you are angry but I am trying to build us a future. Living off of David is not what I want.”
“Living off of David? Is that what you think I am doing?” asked Jeff.
“Of course not! But Nemours was in anarchy, it was the closest thing I had to a home before you-“
“What did you say?”
“Nemours is in anarchy-“
“No the part about home,” interrupted Jeff again.
“You are my home?”
“That part.”
“I have said this before.”
“No you have not. You never said I was your home, you only told me that you cared and worried for me.”
“Then I felt it and I am sorry that I have not said it sooner. I guess I could not get my feelings out correctly.”
“You know you have described loving me in almost every way possible but have not said the words before.”
“It is just too soon.”
“We are married, we have a child on the way and you think it is too soon?”
“The first two things I expected. I was content with having to marry and having a child because that is what I was told to do. The love part, no one ever told me what do to about love. My mother died when I was young. The only ever woman I had been around was a 50-year-old spinster who knew nothing about love, let alone sex, and she just sent me off like a package! I am sorry that I cannot tell you I love you,” cried Elisabeth. She partly hated herself but understood it came with the many other problems of having children.
“I don’t want you to cry,” said Jeff.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for something like that,” smiled Jeff.
“I want to go lay down. I am exhausted.” That was another thing about having children. Elisabeth got easy and worked up about the littlest thing even faster.
“I will have someone bring you up some more blankets.”
“Why?”
“I know you get cold at night.”
“That is why I have you,” said Elisabeth.
“I will have a long night with David and the council so I won’t be with you tonight,” explained Jeff.
“I… okay. Please don’t be long.”
The warmth that night was not the same and Elisabeth had a hard time sleeping because of that. Although, sleeping while almost 7 months pregnant was rare. She was quite large for 7 months and she could hear the whispers of the court about how big she was. Jeff had always been quick to assure Elisabeth that none of that mattered.
During a meeting with some of the people from Nemours, Elisabeth had a sharp pain in her stomach, “Elisabeth what’s wrong.”
“Nothing just a kick,” smiled Elisabeth. Everyone payed no attention after that but Elisabeth felt little pain after that every couple of hours. She had no one to turn when the pain turned to fear. The court doctor was young and inexperienced for Elisabeth’s needs. No one in David’s court had children, and if they did they were older than David’s reign as king of the realm. Maids and ladies-in-waiting for young and unmarried so they could be of no help.
During one of her pains, Jason was the one to find her and rush towards her.
“Are you okay?”
“Something is wrong,” cried Elisabeth as she hunched over in pain.
“She’s in labor.”
Elisabeth could not look her but she could hear the sweet voice of an old woman, “Are you sure?” asked Jason.
“I know what labor pains look like Jason. Call for someone I will take care of her.”
Jason nodded and left running calling for help. Elisabeth finally had enough strength to look up and saw a int old woman smiling down at her, “I am Lorraine, Jason’s mom. Is this your first time?”
“Yes.”
“Can you walk now?” asked Lorraine.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get you on a bed, where is your room?”
With Lorraine by her side, the two were able to carefully walk to Elisabeth and Jeff’s room. Jason finally found Jeff with the rest of the boys and yelled something was wrong with Elisabeth. All of the boys freaked out and ran to where Elisabeth had first saw Jason and Lorraine. Jeff was the first to yell about where his pregnant wife was. David, eager to know as well called for the entire castle to be searched. No one had bothered to look in Elisabeth and Jeff’s bedroom until a page boy had entered the room with the task of getting a dress that Elisabeth had worn for the dogs to sniff.
The boy who had not even reached puberty started yelling at the top of his lungs and ran out of the room. Dozens of people came running into the room, “Please get them out!” yelled Elisabeth.
“Out! Everyone out!” yelled Jeff as he began pushing out random people, even his friends.
“I guess this is my queue to leave too,” smiled Lorraine.
“Wait! Could you stay close?”
“Of course.”
“Your Highness I am told that you are in labor. How long have you felt like this?”
“All day,” answered Elisabeth.
“How often.”
“Just once every couple of hours.”
“What is a couple to you?”
“Three or four, but I think they are getting closer.”
“You seem to be in labor,” assured the court doctor.
“I want another doctor in here.”
“I can assure you that I am more than capable- “
“No! I want another doctor in here or I will give birth myself.”
The man’s feelings were hurt, everyone could tell. Jeff left the room for a couple of minutes to sort out the upcoming details.
“She wants another doctor.”
“Jeff is that true?”
“Yes. Elisabeth is scared, I think she would prefer a much more experienced doctor.”
“I can try and find one in the nearby duchies but most doctors have left to the other battlefields. I doubt we can get anyone with enough times.”
David was able to find someone but they were still an hour out when Elisabeth was very close to giving birth. Her contractions were getting closer and Elisabeth and Jeff were both getting scared. Elisabeth was crying from both the pain and the thought of giving birth. No one could calm her and she was getting to the point of hysteria.
“Is there anything we can do?” asked David.
“Please just give us the room.”
Elisabeth was exhausted and she still had a ways to go, “I am so tired.”
“I know, I know.”
“It’s too early,” cried Elisabeth.
“Everything will be fine, okay?”
The other doctor barely had minutes before Elisabeth was already pushing. Four pushes and Elisabeth heard the cries of a baby and Jeff grabbed onto her for dear life.
“It’s a girl Your Highnesses!”
“You did so good!” smiled Jeff.
“Let me hold her, please let me hold her,” cried Elisabeth.
“Let me get her cleaned up Your Highness.”
“You did so good,” repeated Jeff.
“I am so tired,” said Elisabeth.
Jeff kissed her on the forehead, “I know. You can rest up once you hold her.”
Their little girl was quiet once she got cleaned up. She was wrapped in a blanket and handed to Jeff first. He held his daughter in his arms for a solid minute with the biggest smile on his face before handing his daughter off to her mother.
Elisabeth welcomed the little body right by her chest hearing the small coo’s her daughter was making, “I can’t believe she’s real.”
“You did amazing,” smiled Jeff as he kissed Elisabeth by her brow.
“I love you, I love you so much.”
Jeff thought Elisabeth was talking to their daughter, “And she loves you very much.”
Elisabeth took her eyes off her daughter in order to correct her husband, “Jeff, I love you… so much. We brought her into this world.”
Everyone was curious when they could see the little one and David was the one who peaked into the room to see Elisabeth and Jeff sleeping with their daughter near their bed. He closed the door as quietly as possible and had everyone dismissed.
Elisabeth woke up the next day to Jeff holding their daughter. Throughout the night Elisabeth was feeding their daughter so Jeff wanted to make sure she had enough rest as possible. She spent some time just looking at them.
“We should think of a name.”
“Got any yet?” asked Jeff.
“I already had one in mind.”
“What is it?”
“Mathilde. It is another form of my mother’s name.”
Jeff paused a second, “I just released that I do not know your parents’ names.”
“Edwin and Mathilda. My mother’s name goes back over 5 generations of Matilda’s. It was supposed to past eldest daughter to eldest daughter but I was named after my father’s mother Queen Elisabeth. She had died giving birth to my father.”
“I don’t even know why my parents chose my name.”
“You should ask them when we invite them to meet their granddaughter.”
“David said he sent for them once we knew you were in labor. They live far away so it may be some time before you get to meet them. Is that normal?”
“For me, yes. Sometimes people would get married by proxy so they never laid eyes on each other before they married. It was quiet common in royalty hundred years ago to never meet your spouse before you consummated your marriage,” explained Elisabeth.
“So what we had was unique?” asked Jeff.
“Yes. Our entire relationship is unique.”
“I think she may be hungry.”
Elisabeth fed her daughter from her breast in embarrassment at the idea of Jeff watching her. The two looked at each other hearing the little noises from their daughter’s mouth and gave each other a small nod. It was sight that Jeff never saw coming.
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What a Beautiful Wedding - Sanders Sides One Shot
Hi! So this is sorta the first fic thing I’ve ever written ever, so please give me feedback. It’s also a very vent-y fic about ~certain~ events that have happened in my life recently. I hope y’all enjoy it!
Also big thanks to my beta reader @cup_of_nk aka @mynameiswha . She’s the reason it actually makes sense.
Warnings: Deceit (his name is Dorian Grey), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Let Me Know If I Missed Any!
Roman loved love.
His favorite movies were always romantic comedies. He claimed his favorite book genre was fantasy, but his guilty pleasure were the romance books you’d buy at the grocery store. He’d remember gawking at the stunning, shirtless men on the covers, wondering when his own prince would come. For a while, he believed he already had.
What a fool I was, he thought bitterly, taking a long sip. He grimaced as the vodka burned its way down his throat. He was never one to drink alone, but tonight he made an exception.
As a lover of the romance, it was quite uncharacteristic of him to be glaring at his newly wed friends. The friends he had set up so many years ago.
The wedding had been perfect. Lee and Mary Lee had trusted their romantic friend to plan everything for them, and Roman had exceeded expectations. The venue was gorgeous, the flowers were beautiful, and yet Roman wasn’t enjoying any of it. The only thing he was enjoying was the open bar that Lee and Mary Lee insisted on. Granted, at the time he thought it was in bad taste-- “a place for mopey people to mope,” he had told them, “A wedding is something to celebrate.” Yet here he was, on a first name basis with the bartender, sitting alone at his table, scowling at his closest friends as they shoved cake into each other’s mouths.
Stop staring, and start smiling. You’ll get wrinkles if you frown too much, Roman reminded himself as he gulped down the rest of his drink. In an attempt to avert his gaze, his eyes fell on the empty seat next to him. The little paper placard read “Plus One”. He was tempted to tear it to pieces. Instead, he headed back towards the bar.
The seat beside him was supposed to be reserved for his boyfriend, Dorian Grey. Dorian, the love of Roman’s life. Nearly three years ago, Roman had stumbled upon the most handsomest prince in the world, and had fallen madly in love. He thought Dorian had too, because Dorian said he did. “Why would I lie to the second most handsome prince in the world?” he would tell him late at night, when Roman’s insecurities ate at him the most. During those late nights, they’d discuss wedding venues, themes, and even baby names. After Lee and Mary Lee had gotten hitched, Roman considered the same. He even bought the ring. What a waste of money.
“You weren’t supposed to be home yet,” Dorian had said, arms entangled with another, in the bed they used to share. Roman wanted to scream, to punch the wall, to punch the stranger that had ruined his happily ever after. But instead, Roman had remained silent as the two scrambled for their clothes. Once the other man had left, Dorian became frantic. “It was a mistake,” he said. “It’s the depression,” he said. “I’ll do anything,” he said.“You know I love you.”
All Roman could think about was the ring in the nightstand.
“Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
He wanted to. He wanted it to go back to the way things were. He wanted to go back downstairs and pretend none of it happened. But it wouldn’t change the fact that Roman’s heart had shattered. And he couldn’t piece it together enough to forgive Dorian.
Now, a month later, Roman was alone at a wedding. He had gotten another drink from Logan, who nodded in thanks as he placed a dollar bill in the tip jar. Lee and Mary Lee were now sharing the first dance as husband and wife. Most people were watching with soft smiles on their faces. Roman, however, was watching it with tears in his eyes and an uneasy stomach. A result of the vodka, or the memories, he couldn’t tell.
The worst part was that Roman didn’t hate Dorian. He wanted to. It would be so much easier if he did. But he couldn’t, not after being so head-over-heels in love with him. What he did hate, however, was how jealous Roman had become over Lee and Mary Lee’s happily ever after. He deserved one too.
Or did he?
I should text him, Roman thought, the anger spreading inside his chest like a virus. I should text him what I think of him. So, Roman pulled out his phone, and began drafting a lengthy, strongly worded text to his ex lover.
“All right,” The DJ announced as Lee and Mary Lee finished their dance. “Can I have all of the other love birds on the dance floor please?” Several couples joined Lee and Mary Lee, and the DJ put on yet another cheesy love song. Roman’s thumbs idled over the send button. It was their song. With a loud groan, Roman dropped his head on the table.
“Same,” A deep voice suddenly spoke next to him. “Weddings make me want to kill myself too.” Roman jumped, and turned to see his new companion. He was sitting in the reserved empty seat next to Roman, and the first thing he noticed was his striking grey eyes. What a pity it looked like he hadn’t slept in the past few years. Roman knew Lee and Mary Lee pretty well, and yet he didn’t recognize the stranger next to him.
“Oh jeez, you look worse than I thought,” He stated so bluntly. Roman scoffed, cheeks hot in indignation.
“That’s rich, coming from someone who looks like they’re headed to a funeral!” Roman instantly retaliated.
“Hey man, the night’s still young,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t say the same thing about you, though.”
“I am only twenty-eight years old!”
“Well, if you keep frowning like that you’re going to get wrinkles.”
Roman gasped. “Well, at least I fit my suit! Did your mommy rent that for you? Huh, Hot Topic?”
Another shit-eating grin. “Aw, you think I’m hot.”
Unbelievable! What was with this guy?
Roman sighed deeply, giving up, and lifted his glass. “Can’t you let me drown my sorrows in peace, whoever you are?”
“But what’s the fun in that?”
Roman rolled his eyes, and took a sip.
“The name’s Virgil, by the way,” he commented, plucking Roman’s placard off the table. He glanced up at him through his bangs. “Roman Prince, right?”
Roman decided to ignore him. Maybe he’ll go away.
A silence fell between them as they watched the other guests enjoy themselves on the dance floor. Virgil reached for his purple tie, and loosened it. Roman watched the motions of the man’s hand as it ran through his hair. Huh, he matched his tie to his hair. Interesting...fashion choice, Roman thought to himself. Virgil’s hand was… large. He propped his chin on said hand, and Roman couldn’t help but notice how strong his jawline was. Quick, stop staring, he admonished himself, tearing his eyes away.
“Do I really look that pathetic?” Roman finally asked.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Roman muttered, staring back down at the half empty vodka soda in his hands.
“Are you the Roman that planned this whole thing?” Virgil asked, changing topics. Roman set down his drink.
“That’s me,” Roman boasted with a smile.
“No wonder it’s so lame.” Roman gasped and clutched his chest like he had been shot.
“Excuse me,” He exclaimed. “This wedding is not lame! The venue is breathtaking, the weather is perfect-”
“The ceremony took so long,” Virgil interrupted.
“It’s a wedding,” Roman screeched, “What were you expecting?!”
“Let’s just face facts,” Virgil said with a wide grin. Roman could tell Virgil was enjoying seeing him all riled up. “Weddings are just outdated, overly expensive pageantry.”
“Uh, no,” Roman passionately disagreed. “A wedding is an event centered around the union of two people who love each other unconditionally. We get to watch them take the next step in their relationship. They vow to be devoted, loyal, and honest to each other for as long as they live. A wedding is sacred, romantic, heartwarming-”
“I hear you,” Virgil interrupts. “But you’re not looking at the big picture. A wedding is two people inviting you to sit in a crowd of strangers, watch them shove cake into each other’s mouths, make out a little bit, and tell each other how much they love each other while dressed like a butler and a princess. You’re shamed if you don’t go, and you regret coming if you do.”
Roman was quiet.
“I mean, look at you. Look at me.” Virgil gestured to himself. “We aren’t exactly enjoying this.”
“How can you hate love so much?” Roman snapped.
“I never said I hated it. I’m happy my cousin Mary Lee found someone as great as Lee. They deserve their happily ever after. Everyone does.”
“Do we?” Roman asked quietly.
Virgil looked at him. “Well yeah, I never said you were wrong. A wedding can be everything you said, and everything I said.” Roman doesn’t respond. Virgil glances down at the “Plus One” placard in front of him. “I guess I’m sitting in someone else’s seat.”
Roman’s head snapped toward the placard in Virgil’s hands.
“Well, since he’s not using it,” Virgil said as he tore the placard to pieces. Roman goes to stop him, but he hesitates. Why is he still defending him? Virgil’s right, Dorian wasn’t using it. The little paper pieces piled up on the table.
“By the way,” Virgil added, “You don’t look that pathetic. On a scale from 1-10, 10 being super pathetic, you’re a solid six.”
Roman laughed. “I guess that’s better than a ten.”
“Well, on a different scale, I’d say you’re a solid ten.”
“Only ten?” Roman teased.
“Don’t push it, Princey.”
A pop song with a catchy beat came on. Virgil suddenly stood, and extended his hand out to Roman.
“I’m not much of a dancer. But you look like you’d enjoy it. So let’s go dance.”
With a smile, Roman took Virgil’s hand. Virgil dragged him onto the dance floor, abandoning Roman’s forgotten drink on the table.
The two of them danced their hearts out. Roman sang along to all of the songs: he made the playlist after all. He could tell Virgil seemed uncomfortable, but Virgil stayed with him. It was a kind gesture. Roman would be lying if he said he didn’t notice how handsome Virgil looked when he smiled.
When the DJ announced that the final song was a slow song, Roman pulled Virgil close to him.
“You’re not that bad of a dancer, ya know?” Roman said.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.”
The two swayed to the beat. Virgil looked up at Roman.
“What are you doing after this?” Virgil asked. Roman’s cheeks flushed a dark red. Oh.
“You tell me.” He said, and god did he love seeing Virgil smile.
For the first time in his life, Roman felt like the most handsomest prince in the world.
#thomas sanders#sanders sides#virgil sanders#roman sanders#deceit sanders#tw deceit#prinxiety#sammywritesforonce
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1 THROUGH 98! I WANT TO KNOW THE ANSWERS AND I CAN'T STAND GETTING THEM PIDDLING BIT BY PIDDLY BIT!!!!!
Lmaooooo what a fuckin Mood. Thank you!!!!! Also, you’re getting Drunk Kylie answers which are arguably the Best answers. For the courtesy of everyone’s dash, answers are below the cut!! <3 <3 <3
1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?
Coffee mugs! I have a sizable collection lmao #WriterLife
2. chocolate bars or lollipops?
omg such a tough one, both are aces. seriously I can think of so many combatting pros & cons!! the only fair way i can currently conceive is which i would want weed in. Which is lollipops bc (#UnpopularOpinion) pot makes chocolate taste bad.
3. bubblegum or cotton candy?
both are great, but def bubblegum.
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
“Pleasure to have in class” in true Gifted Child fashion
5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?
i’ll rate them in order: 1) can (absolutely preferred), 2) bottle if alone but plastic (lez be honest, Red Solo Cup) if with company, 3) glass (do not like)
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
#1 goth all the way. Pastel and Formal guest appearances
7. earbuds or headphones?
headphone, bc earbuds usually hurt my ears.
8. movies or tv shows?
first of all, how dare you. second of all, tv shows ONLY BECAUSE if all my fave movies were given tv shows so that they could last longer i would choose so
9. favorite smell in the summer?
idk i guess pool chlorine? dislike summer
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
bruh fuckin none. elementary school: too long ago to recall. middle school: escaped having to take gym at all. high school: had a medical excuse to take online PE. least athletic girl u know
11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?
i don’t have bfast bc eating close to when i awaken makes my tummy upset
12. name of your favorite playlist?
hmm 4-way tie between “#motivate #bitch” (gets me pumped to work) and “Friends Of The Illness” (my playlist of songs about and/or artist who are mentally ill) and “Ominous/haunting” (speaks to my creepy side) and “Bad Bitches” (self-explanatory amirite)
13. lanyard or key ring?
Key ring. Straight up I use an extra shoelace as my key ring string, despite owning multiple lanyards.
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
god another fkn hard one. Listen y’all, you dont understand how much of a sugar fiend i am. candy is my JAM. Starbursts, Sour Straws, Skittles, Jolly Ranchers...who can choose?!
15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?
“Ceremony” by Leslie Marmon Silko. Highly recommend!!!!!!!!!!!
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
laying down lol sitting is for suckers
17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?
combat boots like the gay i am
18. ideal weather?
low 70′s degrees (F*), intermittent showers during the day but clear starry skies overnight
19. sleeping position?
mostly fetal, mostly on my side but chest is towards the bed, one arm under the pillow under my head
20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?
Laptop. I used to love writing in notebooks, but ya girl got weak fingy joints nowadays
21. obsession from childhood?
pfft as if they aren’t the same obsessions i have now
22. role model?
so many!!!!! Jameela Jamil is the first that comes to mind
23. strange habits?
lmao i am ass-deep in idiosyncrasies, if you ain’t read the blog title already
24. favorite crystal?
i don’t know anything about crystals. does blue topaz count? cuz that’s my birthstone and i like that one a lot. i even had the foresight to pick that as my engagement ring’s stone in my utterly preposterous & failed relationship
25. first song you remember hearing?
oh wow, no idea. music has always been huge for me. probably either a Britney Spears or Mary J. Blige song???
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
stay inside lmao
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
WEAR SWEATERS & DRINK HOT CHOCOLATE, BITCH!!!!!!!!!
28. five songs to describe you?
oof ok, hard, but here goes:
“Here” by Alessia Cara
“Wannabe” by the Spice Girls
“I’m Just a Kid and Life Is A Nightmare” by Simple Plan
“No Daddy” by Teairra Mari
“Brick By Boring Brick” by Paramore
29. best way to bond with you?
i am straight up not easy to make friends with (bc my own bullshit, not trying to be pretentious), so bonding is hard. the best way is probably a combo of queer + memes + loves food + correct morals + being the dominant talker
30. places that you find sacred?
Libraries, locally owned coffee shops, Walmarts at 3am, playgrounds in the middle of the night, side of a rural road at 12am, my bed
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
Blazer + shirt with a titty window + high waisted plaid pants + platform booties
32. top five favorite vines?
OMG I LOVE VINES OK OK OK OMG I LOVE SO MANY SO HERE ARE JUST THE ONES I QUOTE THE MOST OK:
Josh Kennedy: “What’s up my name’s Jared I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to read”
Sarah Schauer: [dont remember the beginning] “didn’t you..?” “sleep in this? yes. mama needs A DRINK”
Evan Breer: “What’s up my & my boys are going to see Uncle Kracker - give me my hat back Jordan, do you see Uncle Kracker or no - *gasp!*”
Drew Gooden: “Road work ahead? Um yeah, I sure hope it does...”
Nathan Enick: “Yo how much money do you have?” “69 cents” “Oh you know what that means!” “...i don’t have enough money for chicken nuggets :( ...”
33. most used phrase in your phone?
bruh like how even am i supposed to answer this?? like texts or Siri requests or????? bc if it’s Siri requests then it’s 100% for arithmetic
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
Stanley Steamer. you kno the one
35. average time you fall asleep?
3:30am
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
bitch i’m a 90′s child of the internet, i was around the web before YouTube launched, i was there when the first modern memes were fucking conceived. i will say the biggest repository of meme culture that i was a part of was YouTube and icanhazcheezburger.com & its side-sites.
37. suitcase or duffel bag?
duffel - Tie-Dye Girl from the Lindsey Lohan “Parent Trap” made quite the impression on me
38. lemonade or tea?
Lemonade! hate the leaf water
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
Lemon cake! Not a meringue pie girl saly
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
I’ve been to a lot of schools yo lol. My undergrad college was def the “weirdest” ofc, bc it was an art school lol. An instance that stands out was a string of “Solid Gold Clit” graffiti after a Sophia Wallace visit to campus right before i started there.
41. last person you texted?
My bff triad pals @backwardswriter and @bristarshine
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
damn tough call. Probably jacket pockets bc i’m more likely to have those as a lady who wears lady-targeted pants
43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?
Hoodie
44. favorite scent for soap?
Plum!
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
Fantasy, though sci-fi is a solid 2nd. Not much of a superhero gal
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
.....underwear only. Sometimes an oversized t-shirt too.
47. favorite type of cheese?
Mozzarella!!!
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
I would want to be like a pomegranate, but i’m probably a nectarine
49. what saying or quote do you live by?
“If you hope for the best but expect the worst, you’ll never be disappointed.”
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
bitch i’m a giggle monster, i taught myself to be easily amused as a survival mechanism.
51. current stresses?
My own lack of discipline.
52. favorite font?
oooooof i have so many ok. too name a few: Centaur, Garamont, Book Antigua, Times New Roman, Montserrat.....mostly Serif fonts bc I’m an old books bitch
53. what is the current state of your hands?
I don’t love my hands (how homophobic of me, I know). Currently they’re kinda dry and full of sandwich
54. what did you learn from your first job?
what kind of boss I like. also that my customer service voice is frighteningly pleasant
55. favorite fairy tale?
Original tale: Thumbelina. Adaptations: Snow White.
56. favorite tradition?
uhhh Thanksgiving feast I guess? i am not a traditions gal
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
I am very very fortunate to not have a lot or a severity of these. The ones that I’ve had the worst of are: gender discrimination/harassment as a woman, hardcore emotional abuse in a relationship, and heavy heavy mental illness
58. four talents you’re proud of having?
Tangible talents: writing, lying. Intangible: A+ imagination, useless trivia.
59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?
“I support you!”
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
like if Tokyo Mew Mew and Higurashi No Naku Koro Ni had a baby
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
Again, how dare you. Like literally, asking me to pick a favorite line from something is like asking what my favorite breed of dog is. Legit impossible
62. seven characters you relate to?
Ananka Fishbein (Kiki Strike series), Mermista (She Ra & the Princesses of Power), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Gwen (Total Drama), Rori Gilmore (Gilmore Girls), Villanelle (Killing Eve), Andrea (St. Trinian’s)
so like all very- to semi-weird white girls lmao
63. five songs that would play in your club?
[by the term “club” i assume that i’m limited to pop and electronic music. even with the limitation, though, a super hard question]
“Talking Body” by Tove Lo
“Hot in Herre” by Nelly
“Because the Night” by Cascada
“Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels” by Todrick Hall
“Break Free” by Ariana Grande ft. Zedd
64. favorite website from your childhood?
pretty much any doll franchise’s site (Barbie, Bratz, My Scene, Polly Pocket, Diva Girlz, everGirl, etc you name it)
65. any permanent scars?
Yep. One by a dog scratch (it was honestly a weak/shallow/innocent scratch, i still have no idea why it scarred at all), and a few from a car crash last year
66. favorite flower(s)?
i don’t really like flowers? i usually just say Forget-Me-Not’s for ease
67. good luck charms?
bitch idk but i’m knocking on wood just from thinking bout it
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
you ever taste that chocolate Laffy Taffy? vile bruh
69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?
I am annoying enough to know how i learnt all my facts, but the funnest fact I like to annoy people with is that ducks have corkscrew penises evolved from their main form of mating being rape
70. left or right handed?
Right (like any ol’ simp)
71. least favorite pattern?
polka dots
72. worst subject?
MATH and also PHYS ED
73. favorite weird flavor combo?
One time whilst high, I put nacho cheese Doritos on a tuna sandwich. Winning combo, I’m telling you
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
My pain tolerance is straight up unpredictable, so like anywhere from a 3 to a 9
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
5 years old
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
Mashed potatoes
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
I am not a plant person. Moss.
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
fucking neither but i at least like coffee so i guess the former....
(i know, it’s tragic and barbaric that i dislike sushi, i wish i had another answer for you)
79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?
Neither lmao - I got them within a month of each other (six years ago) so they’re essentially the same photo.
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
Jewel!
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
I mean those are the same bug so I assume this is asking about which terminology I typically use/prefer. Which i would say both bc I’m a cultured ho
82. pc or console?
I don’t game so I guess PC lmao
83. writing or drawing?
Writing but I like both
84. podcasts or talk radio?
damn neither lmao I can’t focus on non-music audio only. I guess talk radio, just bc I can do like ten minute radio segments at least lol
84. barbie or polly pocket?
both were lit but I had more Barbies
85. fairy tales or mythology?
not to sound like a broken record but FIRST OF ALL HOW DARE YOU? second of all, I essentially consider them in the same category at this point in modernity, so my answer is Yes.
86. cookies or cupcakes?
Cupcakes, but both are exquisite
87. your greatest fear?
spiders, heights, clowns, seeing bad things happening to animals, that my consciousness will exist even after death, y’know normal stuff
88. your greatest wish?
to transfer myself into one of my fave fictional worlds
89. who would you put before everyone else?
dogs, next question
90. luckiest mistake?
i make a lot of those honestly, so who knows
91. boxes or bags?
LISTEN I LOVE CONTAINERS OF ALL SORTS, YOU CAN’T MAKE ME CHOOSE, IM PANSEXUAL FOR A REASON
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
FLASHLIGHTS, BITCH
93. nicknames?
Ky, KyKy, Moonshine, SugarTits, Goog Bones
94. favorite season?
Autumn (yes i call it that instead of Fall bc i’m a pretentious ass bitch lol)
95. favorite app on your phone?
Tumblr, c’mon
96. desktop background?
Currently a digital art painting of a flowing stag in a swamp that I downloaded from DeviantArt. I change it every few months though (to other downloaded digital art from DA that I collect periodically lmao)
97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?
Seven - mine, my mom’s 2 numbers, my grandma’s, my pop’s cell and office (also my old office) numbers, and my childhood house phone number lol
98. favorite historical era?
Golden Age of Piracy, specifically bc the piracy lol
Thank you so much for the asks, this was so much fun!!!
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12 + 48 and zimbits
Roommate + Fake Dating oho i am excited for this one. here comes more actual writing are y’all ready?? 2.1k
edit: apparently i posted this on ao3 and forgot to link it here so here it is
On the one hand, Bitty loves the fact that the team just doubled the number of beds per bedroom in the Haus. Sure, it doesn’t seem quite as luxurious as the individual rooms, but it means that even more people can fit in the Haus and that means a couple of things:
First of all, he has far more people nearby to make go to Stop ‘n Shop and buy him butter.
Second of all, there are many, many people around who are perfectly willing to hang out with him, which means as long as he doesn’t tell them that he needs to do homework, he has a house full of willing accomplices in procrastination.
Unfortunately, the second thing doesn’t work on Jack.
He and Jack weren’t even supposed to be roommates— in the Hausing lottery, Bitty had been assigned to share with Wicks, but then Ollie asked to switch so he could be with Wicks and Bitty is pretty sure they’re together or at least FWB and he definitely doesn’t want to be sexiled so he said yes. And now here he is sharing a room with Jack.
Usually they don’t get in each other’s way; as long as Bitty plays his music quietly, they make it work. But Jack has a pretty much perfect bullshit detector when it comes to how much work Bitty is avoiding, and part of that may be due to the fact that it’s just impossible to make eye contact with Jack and lie to him, and part of it is probably witchcraft of some sort.
But they make it work.
The day Jack gets a letter is a day of note in the Haus, because the only physical mail they ever get are catalogues (for many things, among them clothes, kitchenware, and fishing supplies) and bills. However, Jack is working on his thesis and refuses to come downstairs to accept the letter in a grand ceremony Shitty wants to improvise, so Bitty is tasked with bringing the letter to Jack since it is, after all, also his room.
“Ugh,” Jack says upon opening it.
That’s unusual. “What?”
“I’m invited to my cousin’s wedding.”
“Do you not like your cousin?”
“I like him, but my aunt is convinced I’m dating Kent Parson, and every time I see her she interrogates me to try and get me to confirm it.”
“Why does she think that?”
Jack sighs through his nose. “She thinks we’ve been going steady since the Q.” He doesn’t answer the question, but Bitty knows how close Jack was to Parson then, so it makes sense.
“Can you just tell her you’re not? Like, I don’t know, say you broke up, or that you’re dating someone else.”
“I don’t think she would believe me.”
Bitty flops down on his own bed, because it sounds like this is a problem worthy of letting Bitty procrastinate on everything else and that fact alone is definitely worth some attention. “Why not?”
“Because she doesn’t believe me about not dating Kent Parson now, so how would I convince her? It’s not like I can make a significant other materialize out of thin air.” Jack puts the card on his desk and tosses the envelope into the trash. “I usually just endure it. It’s not like I see her that often, anyway.”
“I mean, you don’t have to make someone materialize, just ask someone to go with you and pretend. If the food is good I’m sure they’ll agree.”
The corner of Jack’s mouth quirks up. “Or is that just specific to you?”
“I am nobly ignoring your attempts to chirp me.”
“You just acknowledged them. And they’re not attempts, they’re successes.”
“Are not.”
“I’m not getting into this with you.”
“I win.”
“Fuck.” Jack drums his fingers on his desk and says, “Still not getting into this with you despite you baiting me.”
“Who says ‘despite’?”
“I do.”
“Fair point.”
Jack frowns, which is an unusual expression for him when Bitty has just confirmed he’s right about something. “Can you go?”
“Huh?”
“To the wedding.” Bitty must look nonplussed, because Jack says, “I mean, we’re used to sharing a room, and I would ask Shitty but he’s really stressed with applying to law schools and everything and I don’t think an event with free alcohol would be good for him.”
And those are all excellent points, but this is Jack. Bitty is genuinely not sure he can make it through the wedding pretending to date Jack while still maintaining his composure and dignity. Add that to the fact that Jack went through that whole conversation they just had about Kent Parson without a single ‘no homo’, and frankly Bitty is not in the right emotional state to do this.
“I’ll buy you Annie’s for a week,” Jack says, and fuck it, Bitty is sold.
“Okay, I’ll accept your bribe and do it. But only for the food.”
“And the Annie’s.”
“I’m counting that.”
It’s really a good thing that Bitty and Jack are roommates, because they automatically have a place to practice faking couple-dom.
“Okay, first question,” Bitty says. He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, and Jack is mirroring him on the other side of the room. “How long is this whole thing? Like, is it a whole weekend? Is it a morning thing? Evening thing?”
“Evening, but we’re invited to the rehearsal dinner, so it’s pretty much the whole weekend.”
“Okay. Next question, are we going to be faking to your parents or telling them?”
“Uh, my dad is not good at keeping secrets.”
“Faking. Okay. Will people be speaking French?”
Jack furrows his brow. “I mean, some people probably will be, but the wedding’s in New York. It’s my mom’s side.”
“Thank the Lord. And the next question is, can you dance?”
“If I say no, does it mean I don’t have to?”
“Yes.”
“Then I cannot at all. And that’s the truth.”
“That’s honestly what I expected.”
“Rude.”
“Well, anyway, we won’t dance, then. That’s good, that means we don’t have to practice that.”
And so the plan is born. They won’t tell anyone, not even Jack’s parents, and they won’t bother explaining the whole situation to the rest of the team because Shitty will insist he’s doing fine and then they’ll have to deal with that. They’ll practice a relatively subtle level of PDA, because it’s not like it’s their wedding, and there will be absolutely no dancing.
They start with just being in each other’s space. The team is not big on personal space as a whole, but this is different— sitting next to each other, touching from knee to shoulder, leaning on each other, that sort of thing. And then handholding, which Bitty needs to practice a lot because it messes with his head and his composure and both of those are unacceptable.
He has no idea how he’s going to function when they get to kissing. More importantly, he has no idea how he’s going to conceal this irritatingly persistent crush. He thought it would fade away after a week or so (and to be honest he had fully expected it to happen at some point), but that… is not what is happening. Instead, Bitty’s heart does physical activity ranging from a flutter to intense aerobics every time they touch, and frankly this is not sustainable.
But he can’t back out. Jack really does need him to do this. Bitty can see how whenever Jack’s gaze lands on the invitation, which is still lying on his desk, he tenses up a little, and Bitty has the feeling that there’s more that Jack isn’t saying.
But that’s none of his business.
He muddles his way through couple practice fairly well, for a while. Jack has made a calendar (because of course he has) detailing their schedule and when they progress from one level to another. It’s endearing, and the fact that it’s endearing instead of annoying is pissing Bitty off.
Day One of kissing takes place a week before the wedding, because Bitty has asserted that he needs time to get used to it and Jack has agreed. Thank heavens for small favors. Except that just means that he’s going to spend even more time kissing Jack and— well, Bitty is just not thinking about that.
He determinedly not-thinks about it until the day of, when they’re sitting in their room facing each other and Jack says, “Ready?”
And Bitty says, “Yeah,” because waiting longer will not help at all. He just needs to do it, and then he can get used to it and it won’t be an issue at the wedding.
And then Jack kisses him and Bitty becomes immediately aware that it will definitely be an issue for him personally, because honestly?
Kissing Jack feels right, which is fucking terrifying and definitely not what should be happening. Because Bitty has been secretly hoping all this time that when they get to this part, it’ll just feel awkward and silly and he can finally let go of this stupid crush. But instead it feels comfortable, simple in the way that making a crumble is simple, and Bitty definitely should not have gone with the crumble comparison because now he’s coming up with all sorts of figurative language that incorporates sugar and dessert and just overwhelmingly unnecessary ideas.
I can’t fake this, Bitty thinks, and then he pulls away, or Jack does, because he doesn’t consciously decide to do it but it still happens, and then he opens his eyes and looks at Jack, who…
Who doesn’t seem any more coherent than Bitty, and Bitty has no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
They just look at each other for a minute, or maybe two, and then Jack looks away and says, “This isn’t fair.”
“Huh?” Bitty says, because he genuinely has no idea what Jack is talking about.
“This,” Jack says. “Fake dating. I mean—” he sighs. “It’s not fair to you, because you just agreed to do it as a favor to me. I should have stopped it when I—” And he stops.
Bitty waits, because it’s clear that Jack is going to say something, and the last thing he wants to do is mess that up by saying something.
“When I asked you to help me, I was being honest,” Jack says. “I really just needed a friend to help me get through this weekend. And then I thought… I just thought, well, it’s been a long time since I’ve dated anybody so I’m just reacting to that but… that’s not what happened. I guess…” He pauses, takes a breath, then says, “It’s not fair to you because I’ve been letting you think I’m just in this to get my aunt off my back, when I… I really want this to be not fake.”
“Oh,” Bitty says. And then he says, “Oh, God, that is so noble of you, because I was just going to not say anything for the rest of my life and bottle everything up until I died, but… I want this to be not fake, too.”
Jack looks back at him in surprise, and then whatever he sees on Bitty’s face must convince him that Bitty is being genuine, because he says, “Okay.”
They make eye contact for a long moment before Bitty feels himself starting to laugh. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
Holding on to a semi-straight face is a challenge, but it’s worth it, because Jack starts smiling too, and then he laughs, and then Bitty can’t help but laugh too, and their second kiss is, if possible, even better than their first.
The wedding is lovely.
Bitty isn’t really sure of what the bride and groom’s names are (they introduced themselves at the rehearsal dinner, but by the time the hors d’oeuvres were served at the reception, those names had flown out of Bitty’s head), but they seem nice, and they put on a damn good wedding, so as far as Bitty is concerned they’re excellent people.
Also, the food is really good.
They still have to lie about how long they’ve been together, because Jack RSVP’d a while ago, but compared to lying about being together, it’s a piece of cake.
Bitty expresses that out loud (but quietly) to Jack, who says, “Literally.”
“You’re holding a macaron, not a piece of cake.”
“Close enough.”
They also do a very good job of not dancing— they talk to various family members during the fast songs, and shamelessly raid the desserts during the slow songs, and maybe a quarter of the guests have left when a very familiar song begins.
“Okay, I know we said no dancing, but I’m changing both of our minds,” Bitty says, standing up. “Come on, it’s a slow song, you don’t have to do anything.”
Jack lets himself be pulled up from his chair, and then he says, “Is this… Beyonce?”
“Yeah, that’s why we have to dance, come on.”
Jack just laughs and goes with him.
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