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parker-razor · 3 years

Text

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!!

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

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samstrugglingwithlife · 4 years

Text

Babysitting With A Reserved Male Friend And Developing A Crush On Him

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Ushijima, Osamu, Daichi

Warning: Swearing.

A/n: Male reader x character. This is super long, I sorta got carried away. I GOT CARRIED AWAY WAY TOO FAR MAN! The premise of this ask was so cute and I can only hope I did it justice. I hope you guys enjoy it. This is my first time writing for a male reader so let me know if I did something wrong or if I didn’t capture the essence right.

It’s super long, so everything is under the cut.

USHIJIMA

This guy is pretty reserved himself, and on top of it, he's also pretty blunt and says things without much consideration. The two of you became 'friends' in your first year when one of the teachers asked you to help him with his studies.

You realised that Wakatoshi is not really as cold as he is clueless. Also, he was a bit of a dumbass, you were pretty surprised when you found out that his brain functioned at full capacity only when it came to volleyball. (A/N: Boy thought that the earth is flat and that Hinata was muscle training by clinging upside down to the surface on the other side of the planet... such dumbassery, I want him.)

You're third years now; you guys have been friends for about two years. Ushijima and you are both serious guys, you two like each other's companies even when you two sit together in silence.

It was a week before exams, that's when the two of you would usually get together in Ushijima's dorm room, and you would tutor him.

"Y/n," he called you just as you left your last class of the day. "Hmm?" "Are you coming today?"

You sigh, "Sorry. Maybe tomorrow. I have to babysit my little sister tonight," he nodded in reply and proceeded to walk away. You thought about it a little and called out to him, "Hey, you can come to my house. I was gonna study literature today."

Wakatoshi nodded and promised to see you at your place after practice. You texted him your address.

Outside the boundaries of your home, you were very reserved, you kept to yourself and hardly had any friends other than Ushijima, and Tendou by extension. At home, you were a loving brother, you played with your sister, and you were her best friend; she was the reason you decided not to live in the Shiratorizawa dorms.

That evening, around six, Ushijima showed up at your place. He had never seen you in casual clothes before, you two only ever hung out at school, so he had only seen you in uniform, but you looked cute; he was dressed in his jogging tracksuit, typical.

Your sister was busy watching her favourite cartoons, so she didn't pay any attention as you led him to your room. You left him there to go get the two of you drinks from the kitchen.

Your room was just like you, it gave nothing away. It was sparsely furnished with only a bed, a dresser and a study table. All the colours were plain and neutral. However, there was one thing that stood out, a corkboard. It was covered in children's drawings and pictures of you and your baby sister.

There was one photo of you that caught his eye, it was you with your sister in your arms, and the two of you were grinning from ear to ear, paint smeared on both your cheeks.

"It was last month," Ushijima turned towards you. You walked further into your room, placing the tray with your drinks on your study table, you stand beside him and stare fondly at the photo. You trace your fingers gently over it, a small smile playing at your lips, his heart does a little ba-dump.

The two of you are immersed in your studies until your baby sister opens your door just a crack, "Nii-chan..." she calls out groggily, her little fists rubbing her eyes. You turn towards her and get up from your seat, picking her up. You look at the alarm clock and inhale in disbelief, "Oh! It's that late?"

"It's way past your bed time!" you pat her head as she places it in the crook of your neck and shoulder, tired. You softly hum a lullaby as you gently rock her. Ushijima's heart does another flip. He had known you for two years, but he had never seen you like this, with a sweet smile on your face and a gentle cadence in your voice. He didn't know you after all.

After you tuck your sister in bed, you walk with Wakatoshi to the end of your street. He always enjoyed your company, during lunch, in his dorm room when you helped him out with homework, yet he never in these two years felt what he felt in the last two hours.

Ever since that day, his heart always did a flip whenever you were around, he felt the urge to be near you, he felt protective of you. He didn't know what to call this feeling, but he quite liked it, whatever it was.

OSAMU

You and Osamu were classmates, you were his seat neighbour. The two of you became friends when Osamu offered to share his homemade onigiri with you, and you decided to share your homemade dessert with him. He enjoyed the feedback you gave him about his food. He wasn't exactly a fan of sweet things, but the desserts you made were to die for.

Osamu figured early on that you liked to keep to yourself most of the time, you just couldn't get along with your peers. You were on the soccer team but you never hung out with your teammates after practice, so far, Osamu was your only friend. You were both the quiet type, neither of you spoke much, but you always shared your lunches and sometimes chatted about your clubs - Osamu liked to complain about Atsumu sometimes, you found it very amusing.

It was during summer break. The two of you were texting (dry ass texters both of you), he was complaining about his brother and wanted to get out of the house. He invited you to hang out, but you had to decline because your mother was away on a work trip leaving you to look after your nine years old little twin brothers. You told him that he is welcomed to come to your place and hang out if he really wants to get away from Atsumu.

Osamu took you up on your offer, and within half an hour, he was at your doorstep, a bag of ingredients and snacks in his arms. The first thing he sees when you open the door to let him in is two identical twin boys clinging to you, all of you covered in flour.

You let him in, "We were just baking," you tell him awkwardly. You had flour in your hair, on your cheeks, your t-shirt, and your arms; for some reason, Osamu's heart quickened in his chest.

You looked questioningly at the bag in his hands, "Was gonna make onigiri..." he mumbles. Your brothers perked up, "Really?" they asked simultaneously. You chuckled at their voices. It was as if an arrow shot him straight through his heart. He had never heard you could laugh like that. How could you sound so boyish, so cute?

Nonetheless, Osamu followed you to the kitchen. You picked the boys up and sat them on the counter with a grunt, "Ushah! Now sit tight and lemme work ya lill' runts!" you playfully scold them. Osamu blinked, who were you? He didn't know this Y/n at all; the Y/n he knew spoke quietly and never uttered more than three words at a time, he especially did not make that fuckin' cute grunting sound.

He unloaded the items onto the counter next to you, he leaned closer to look into your bowl, "What're you makin'?" he asked. "Cookies," you reply. "I saw it online, wanna try it out."

You were busy working on your dough, animatedly interacting with your brothers, as Osamu rolled the onigiri, stealing little glances at you. He was caught completely off guard when he heard you laugh loudly at something your little brothers did, his face flushed as he looked at you, you sounded so different, so charming, your face looked so handsome and cute. He was seeing things he never noticed before, like how one of your incisors was sharper than the other and like despite being big and strong, your hands were so beautiful and so attractive in the way they delicately dealt with the food. "Osamu! yer squeezin' the rice too hard!" oh shit! He turned the rice ball into mulch.

After cleaning up, eating and playing with the boys, you found yourself seeing Osamu off at the door at the end of the day. "Sorry 'bout my brothers," you say as you nervously rub the back of your neck. "Don't worry 'bout it," he replies softly and places his hand on your head shocking both you and him. He retracts it quickly, "I-I had fun, see ya later," he says and hurriedly walks away.

"Ya had fun?"Atsumu asks him when he finally gets home and buries his face in his pillows. "Fuckin' cute..." Osamu mumbles to himself. "What?" Atsumu asks, not really catching what his brother said. "Shaddup," he replies. "YOU PICKIN' A FIGHT ASSHOLE?!!"

DAICHI

You and Daichi were neighbours. He knew you since you two were little so he knew you had trouble getting along with others and you mostly kept to yourself. He was the only exception, but even with him, you never spoke much.

Both of your parents were close friends as well, and both of your younger siblings were more or less in the same age group.

You often looked after all the children when the grown-ups had to go out since Daichi had club activities that ran pretty long on most days. The kids loved you, though Daichi found it hard to believe that such a quiet and reserved guy could entertain a bunch of hyperactive kids.

Today as well, you were in charge of taking care of the children as the adults left to go enjoy Friday. You were in the Sawamura household with the children, Daichi was still at practice.

On his end, Daichi felt relieved that practice ended early today and coach Ukai allowed them to go home. After buying his teammates pork buns he made his way home.

What he came home to caught him off guard, you were sitting on the couch with a storybook in your hands as the kids all sat in front of you on little cushions; you were reading to them, doing all the voices quite animatedly.

All of you heard him enter the house. The kids ran to him and swarmed around him, greeting him. "Y/n onii-san was reading a story to us!" his little sister exclaims. "Is that so?" "Wanna join us?" your brother asks him. "Sure."

Daichi took a seat beside you, you nod at him in a greeting. He rolls his eyes, "Hello to you too."

As you continued the story, the kids demanded that Daichi should do the voices as well. "I'm the wizard and the dragon," you tell him. "You have to be the princess and the parrot." Daichi groaned, "They're both very high pitched, I literally cannot do that!" You shrugged, "Not my problem."

As you continued the story and did your voices, Daichi kept his eyes on you, in all the years he had known you, this was the first time he had seen this side of you. Honestly, this bright personality suited you.

Soon his turn came, you scooted closer to him so you could share the book. "Oh no, I'm trapped in the tower," he started in his usual voice, all the kids whined, "Onii-chan! You have to do the voice!" his sister scolded him. Daichi sighed, "Help me!" he cried out the dialogue in a much higher pitch. "Pfft!"

He turned to glare at you and yell but his words got caught in his throat, your shoulders were shaking in a silent laugh, your hand on your mouth. Your eyes met his, they were so bright and looked so cheerfully youthful, so different from your usual look of guarded emotions. His breath hitched and he felt his face grow warmer as his heart did somersaults in his chest. 'It's the embarrassment,' he tried to convince himself.

He didn't know that he was staring that long until you nudged his knee with yours and pointed at his next line. Daichi cleared his throat and read it in a high pitch voice.

After the story was finished, the kids were sitting together and eating their snacks. Daichi slumped against the back of the couch, deep in thought, did his heart race because of you or the embarrassment?

"Hey," he looked up, you were standing over him, a glass of water in your hand. He sat up and gratefully took the drink from you, his fingers lightly brushed against yours and he felt his heart jolt in his chest. You didn't seem affected at all. 'It was because of you after all.'

"Thanks for playing along, man," you say in your usual reticent tone. Daichi shook his head and chuckled, "Like I had a choice," you chuckled at that.

From that moment onwards, Daichi was hyper-aware of everything you did, the way you looked in your uniform, the way your features were so boyish and young looking, the way your lips moved when you spoke.

Daichi cursed himself for having a crush on his childhood friend who also happened to be a guy; he needed to get over it fast so you wouldn't find out, afraid that you would distance yourself out of disgust if you ever got to know his feelings. Until then, however, he was going to hang around you as much as he could, just so he could admire you a little more before the crush wore off.

Spoiler alert! It never wore off and you found out.

977 notes · View notes

nomtterwhere · 3 years

Text

come back to me || marco peña x reader

a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!

request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”

summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...

word count: 4.4k

marco valentin peña.

newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.

it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.

but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.

he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.

you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.

“um, hi.” you say.

he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”

oh god, his voice.

you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”

he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.

your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”

marco nods.

grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”

he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”

“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”

grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.

marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”

you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”

marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”

“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.

marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.

“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”

you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.

marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.

marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”

you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”

the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.

you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.

“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.

you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”

you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.

so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:

“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”

you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.

“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.

“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.

“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.

the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.

you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.

“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.

“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.

you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.

never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.

“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”

you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.

“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.

you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.

and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?

eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.

“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.

“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.

“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.

marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”

you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”

grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.

“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.

“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.

“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.

“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.

“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”

you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...

“you what?”

marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.

the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.

“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.

apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.

you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.

he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”

you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.

“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”

you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.

“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.

you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”

he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.

“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.

“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.

you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.

“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.

“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.

marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:

“and shoot.”

you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.

marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.

“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”

you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.

when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.

and you were right.

ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.

and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.

“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.

“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”

“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.

“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”

“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”

he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”

your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”

you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”

you leave the classroom without another look at marco.

and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?

to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.

and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.

“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.

you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.

you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.

so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.

you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.

“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.

“what was that about?” jen asks me.

“i’m not sure...” you say, looking after her retreating figure.

but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.

you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.

“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.

you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.

“hey.”

he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”

“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.

marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.

“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”

he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.

and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”

“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”

you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”

“so?” he looked hopeful.

you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”

he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.

over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.

due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.

he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.

“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.

“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.

“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”

“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.

“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”

you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”

marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”

now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”

“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”

“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.

he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”

you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.

“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.

“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.

you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.

“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”

you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.

“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.

“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.

“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.

but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.

you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.

“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.

“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”

a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

#marco peña #the kissing booth 2 #marco peña x reader #marco peña imagine #marco peña x y/n #taylor zakhar perez #marco x reader #marco pena #marco pena x reader #marco pena imagine #the kissing booth

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formenis · 3 years

Text

Investigation

Anon asked: “ Can you do a one-shot of the task force showing up at HQ to see a playpen with a baby playing in it and they just assume that L kidnapped a baby and start demanding answers and L tells them it's his baby and his wife is busy working another case so he gets to watch the baby”

Of course~ I adore Dad!L♥ Anyway, sorry if you find mistakes, English is not my first language.

warnings: none

requested: yes

C/A = child alias

W/A = wife alias

H/T = hair texture

H/C = hair colour

Tokyo in august could be so damn hot and humid and Misa realised it very soon. Since she was announced as starring in director Nishinaka's newest movie, her agenda was full of appointments and the high temperatures weren't helping her in focusing on her work. Hopefully it would be over soon meaning she could go at L's HQ to see Light.

«Today could be a hot day but nothing is hotter than my Light~» she said dreamily out loud during the shot.

«What did you say, Misa Misa?» Matsuda, or "Matsui" when he was with her, played as her manager when she wasn’t at the HQ and it seemed he enjoyed it more than his actual job as a detective.

«Nothing Matsu…»

♰ TIME SKIP, AT L'S HQ ♰

«Finally, some fresh air» Misa sighed in relief once inside the building. She was still followed by Matsuda but they soon would split apart since he had to go to the monitoring room with the task force and the blonde girl wanted to relax in one of the many lounges (and maybe reading some magazines).

They were going to walk in two separated directions when they saw Watari at the end of the corridor with a big package.

«Have you noticed it, Matsu?»

«The fact that both Ryuzaki and Watari are acting strange these days? Yeah, it's hard not to notice it» and if someone like Matsuda noticed it, it must be pretty obvious then. It was true: recently, the greatest detective in the world and his supplier of logistics were so out of character. They would talk about toys, coloured pencils and bath tubs. It was quite strange thou.

«I wonder what's inside that box…»

«Let's go ask him, Misa Misa» Matsuda suggested with too much enthusiasm.

«No Matsu! Watari will never tell us…we have to investigate»

And with that, their personal investigation started. Matsuda and Misa discreetly followed Watari around the headquarters with this large package in his hands. They noticed he had a sort of big cross body bag full of something. Could they be L's new purchases? Or was L planning something unaware of the entire task-force?

Watari entered a room and the door closed behind him almost immediately, leaving Matsuda and Misa behind a corner. They were so focused in spying Watari that they didn't notice someone not far from them.

«Matsuda! Misa! What are you doing?» it was Aizawa, the detective with black hair and dark brown eyes, he was depicted as a tall man with a large afro. In that moment he was looking at them with a frown on his tired face.

«Ah! Aizawa-san!» Misa jumped in fear and hid behind Matsuda.

«Matsuda…why are you here and not in the monitoring room? We have a case to solve…you're first a detective» Aizawa scolded him as if he was a disobedient child. The younger man sighed in defeat realising he was right but Misa didn't quite agree.

«Wait Aizawa! We're solving a case actually!» the blonde idol came out from behind Matsuda and stood for herself.

«Really?» the other detective replied sceptically. «About what? Matsuda's lack of interest in the Kira case?» he crossed his arms waiting for a satisfying answer.

Misa was going to reply when she heard a sound coming from the room where Watari was. She peeked from behind the corner and saw the old man walking away from said room without the huge package and the cross body bag.

«Now Matsu!» she exclaimed and rushed before the door would close again. Matsuda followed her immediately while Aizawa stood there confused.

«Wait you two!» he joined them shortly after that.

The three of them ran towards the door and entered abruptly inside. After a whole minute of silence Misa started to complain. «There's nothing here!»

«Can we come back to work now?» Aizawa sighed and turned to leave the room when suddenly they heard a loud thud behind them followed by a baby cry. At first, they exchanged a concerned look then turned around at the same time.

And there it was: a dark purple baby playpen with a child inside. The sound they heard came from a toy that fell outside the "cage" and the baby was crying because they couldn’t reach it with their tiny hands.

«Aww! So cuuuute!» she took the toy and returned it to the baby. «Here sweetie~». Now that she was closer she could take a good look at them: H/T, H/C hair, puffy cheeks and two big black eyes; the baby wore a light blue romper suit with white clouds on it.

The kid took the toy from Misa's hands but his eyes stared at her with curiosity. For some reason, that baby reminded her of Ryuzaki.

«Why there's a baby here?»

«Except for you, Aizawa, nobody has children here…» Matsuda pointed out looking at his colleague.

The three of them were still talking about the baby that they didn't notice someone else entered the room.

«What's happening here?» the voice of Soichiro interrupted Matsuda and Aizawa's conversation. The Police Chief examined carefully the room in search for the source of that confusion and gasped loudly when he saw the child.

«A baby?!»

«What baby, Chief?» Mogi, not far from Soichiro, was the last one to enter the room and he had the same reaction of Yagami-san at the sight of the kid. «Aizawa, is he your son?»

«What-No! My son is a bit older than this one»

Now that the task-force was reunited, they proposed so many theories to justify the presence of that child: was he Watari's grandson? Or was he L's little brother? They even suggested he was related to Misa but she denied it.

In the meantime, the idol had eyes only for the kid. She was observing him playing inside the playpen with many toys: dolls, jigsaws, games of strategy or logic and plushes. He had a lot of paper sheets and coloured pencils scattered around him too.

«Can you talk, sweetie?» she asked him maybe too much hopefully. He was two years old (or maybe less) and it was very likely that he didn't talk at all.

The baby boy looked away from his toys to stare at her; he then pulled the pacifier off his mouth. «Yes» he surprisingly replied with a voice that melted Misa's heart.

«My name is Misa, what's yours?»

The child mumbled something like C/A [child alias] melting even more her heart for the cuteness. Misa started to draw and play with him, she was so in love with that kid. Maybe she was imagining her child with Light in that moment.

«Guys! I got it!» Matsuda uttered out from nowhere making everyone jump in surprise. «Now everything is clear!»

«What is clear?» Mogi asked sceptically him.

«Since Ryuzaki wants to catch Kira at all costs, he wants to use this kid for the investigations. Like he is doing with Misa!»

«Don't say such nonsense, Matsuda. Are you suggesting Ryuzaki…» Soichiro stopped himself mid-sentence maybe not able to imagine someone like L doing what he was thinking.

«That Ryuzaki kidnapped this kid!» Matsuda ended Soichiro's phrases with no hesitation. He seemed quite convinced about his reasoning.

However, his colleagues were not convinced as him. Nonetheless, they admitted L was someone capable of extreme measures in order to achieve a certain result. Maybe Matsuda was not wrong after all.

«I can't conceive the fact that Ryuzaki kidnapped this little boy» Soichiro said thoughtfully while observing the child now in Misa's arms. When he approached the boy, his gaze softened. «Hello little one»

C/A looked at Soichiro and the first thing he did was to touch his moustaches. It was followed by a loud laugh maybe because they tickled his hand. Shortly after that, C/A wanted to grab Soichiro's glasses but he ended up dirtying them.

«There's only a way to find the truth, Chief» Aizawa told him with his usual serious voice tone. «Let's go ask Ryuzaki»

♰ MEANWHILE ♰

The greatest detective L was looking at many screens at the same time, absorbing tons of different information all at once. He was going to lick the chocolate from a donut when he saw something alarming with the corner of his eye: the playpen was empty.

He quickly called Watari to ask him why C/A was not in his temporary room. From the screens he could see his mentor enter the room and check the playpen; Watari calmed L down by telling him that the task-force must have discovered the room and now they were playing with him somewhere in the building.

«What's going on, Ryuzaki?» Light asked him quite worried. He noticed how agitated L was but he couldn’t figure out the reason. Let's not forget they were handcuffed together.

L was going to call everyone in the monitoring room when he heard the main door being thrusted open with force. Then someone span his chair.

«Ryuzaki! We need an explanation!»

«Misa-san, I don’t have time for this-» he looked past her and saw C/A in Soichiro's arms while playing with his moustaches. L rushed towards him picking C/A up. Once in the greatest detective's arms, the baby relaxed immediately and placed the head on the shoulder.

«Is it true that you kidnapped this kid to use him in the investigations?» Matsuda asked swiftly feeling really determined.

L (and Light too) sighed frustrated, not expecting smart thoughts from him. He was going to scold him when C/A started to pull his white shirt mumbling something.

«What is it, C/A?» L asked in his usual monotone voice. However, when near that baby, his voice would become warmer and gentler even though the task-force didn’t notice it.

The baby didn’t reply, it seemed he just wanted L's attention. The two of them were in their own personal bubble and the task-force was staring at them in disbelief: what was happening in front of them?

«It seems you need an explanation, as Misa-san said before» L started to say and according to the many nods he heard, they were eager to know. «I didn’t kidnap this child, of course. He is my son, C/A»

«Whaaaat?!» Misa's reaction summed up perfectly what the task-force was feeling: confusion, bewilderment and doubt. If Soichiro couldn’t imagine someone like L kidnapping a baby, the fact that he had a son was even more incredible for him.

«Why didn’t you tell us before?» Soichiro asked him both curious and upset after a long silence.

«Because it's not relevant for the investigations, Yagami-san» L replied frankly while looking at him with his dull black eyes.

«Does he have a mother?» it was Aizawa's turn to ask, since he was more sensitive about family.

«Of course he has, she's my wife»

«Are you married, Ryuzaki?» Light was in disbelief as everyone else in the room.

«That's what I said, Light-kun»

Misa, being…Misa, started to squeal with her usual high-pitched voice. She wanted to know every detail about his wife, how and when they met, their marriage, the pregnancy and so on. Of course L didn’t tell much details, his usual answer at Misa's questions was «Classified information». What the task-force understood was that L's wife, W/A, was an important agent that had the task to solve the most delicate cases around the world (much like him more or less). Moreover, both Soichiro and Mogi noticed how L would smile more while talking about her or C/A, he seemed truly in love with his family and this small detail revealed a rare and intimate part of L's personality.

«You didn’t tell us why C/A is here, Ryuzaki» Light pointed out while the baby was playing in his lap.

«W/A is solving a case in Europe so I have to take care of him» the detective picked the baby up from Light's lap carefully. He didn’t really like that his son was so close to the first suspect of the Kira case.

«Hey, I wanted to play with C/A…»

«It's dinner time for him, Light-kun» L stood up from his metallic chair and started to walk away from the room, followed closely by Light. «Watch carefully, you can learn something for the future» he teased the young boy.

«Ryuzaki!»

#death note #death note headcanons #death note scenario #death note request #l lawliet #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n #dad L

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flourgirl · 3 years

Text

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment.

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso.

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them.

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back.

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach.

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief.

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it.

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch.

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys.

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it.

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence.

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.”

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening.

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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vminity21 · 3 years

Text

Promise Me | pjm

Pairing: Actor!Jimin X Actress!Reader, ot7 featured, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 17, 280

Genre: fluff/soft/angst/smut

Warning(s): mega-angst, family rivalry, eventual smut, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, mild language use Rated: 18+

Summary: You and Park Jimin, two best friends who grow up together, pursue each of your careers in acting. Even after a horrible misunderstanding which then leads to losing contact, the two of you never give up on your dreams. Nor, do you give up on each other.

Credit to: @suhdays for making such an awesome cover!

He relies on his elbow while he slides to lay on his side, beat up converse crossing at the ankles while the loose scrape of his jacket sounds when greeted by the hardwood floor; his cheek brushes your shin once he makes himself comfortable. Your arms are folded across the tops of your knees where you rest your chin, staring at him fondly as you wait for his cue to speak, "You know you can trust me," he flashes a full smile- eyes disappearing into crescents causing your heart to melt at his overwhelming beauty.

"I know, I just... It's not you, it's me," you say, the cliché line sounding believable coming from your lips. Looking towards his clasped hands in response, he nods,

"It's not you, it's me... I've said that plenty of times in my life,"

"So, you understand me," you muse with the raise of your eyebrows hoping your stare exuberates your flirty side. When he returns to peer up at you, his thick lips poise with a slight twitch as if he's conjuring up a reply,

"Come here," he tilts his head up while you maneuver yourself to reach him- lips lock in the most passionate mold, and when he moves to where he can easily pull you closer, his kiss almost makes you forget where you are. Your hand trails to tangle with his blonde strands, getting lost in the movement he makes while he leans back, pulling you with him as previously practiced-

CRASH!

Jumping at the ear-piercing sound of shattering glass, wide eyes stare at the culprit of your piggy bank that fell from the pedestal he happened to lean against for support. Gulping, coins and dollar bills sparsely decorate the floor with the jagged pieces, but none of that is the reason why your heart is pounding with intense fear. There, lying in the jumbled mess of a pile is a couple of ID cards to cover your real identity.

He stands to his feet slowly, taking careful steps toward the muddle.

"I- I can-" You begin, trying to gather an explanation- watching him shuffle up the cards when a façade of shock covers his expression.

"What- what are these?" Anger darkens his eyes with the subtle rise of his voice.

"I can- I can explain-" tears brim the moment he halts your words by holding out his hand.

"No. Don't. I think I've seen enough," he tosses the cards onto your bed before stomping toward the door. Jolting to your feet, you mirror panic,

"No, Sam, please! Wait, please!"

Chasing after him, he spins around, "We're done, Kylee," he removes your hand that happened to reach his shoulder, "Or is that even your real name?"

"CUT!" The director, Steve Aoki, calls and with accomplished smiles, you and Jimin turn to face the cast and crew, "Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely astounding!" Steve applauds, congratulating the pair of you while the two of you step away from the set. "I know this movie will make it to the big screen if the two of you continue performing like that!"

"Thank you, Steve," Jimin slightly bows forward with a sweet grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He slips his arm around your waist with pride, "What can I say? I have a great co-star!"

"Ah, the chemistry!" Steve exclaims.

"Well, thank you to the both of you," you gleam with flattery, leaning into Jimin's side with the tint of a blush heating your cheeks, "I'm having a great time."

"We'll film more scenes with the two of you tomorrow. Right now, we need to film action scenes with the stunt doubles," Steve quickly kisses the side of your forehead before walking off, "Take five, everyone!" He shouts, clapping his hands to disperse the workers into a break.

"I must say, I'm really enjoying this movie with you, Chim," you compliment as he leads you to the refreshment table. Bottles of water sit in perfect rows in front of the snacks- cheese cubes and crackers tempting to relieve your growling stomach.

"I can say the same to you, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin reaches for two waters and hands one to you in which you take a few sips once you screw off the lid. As crazy as it sounds, Jimin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Born to wealthy parents, a couple years after you came your sister. From the day you learned how to speak and understand the world around you, a dream was created that revolved around the career of acting. That's all you've ever wanted to do, and in elementary school, where you got to experience your first taste of this dream, you landed a role as Mrs. Scrooge in the Christmas play. Since none of the young boys tried out for the part, they changed the character to a woman the moment they discovered your talent. After your performance, you received numerous compliments that you were beyond grateful for, and since then you knew, acting was your definite calling. Sure, you had only been in fifth grade, but you loved being on the stage. It gave you a new perspective of every character you played- a new way of seeing life played out before you behind someone else's eyes. The stage – you were in your comfort zone. There, you felt home.

You had spoken to your parents about your dream to find that they were thrilled about your hope in acting. Your mom had warned you though that you needed to be patient; landing a show or movie role could be an incredibly hard task. Promising to be patient, like any kid would have, you kept your eyes peeled for any announcement of an audition. First, you started small- your mom had found auditions for commercials, and that was when you officially began the acting business. Three commercials down, and then you attempted in auditioning for TV shows which you hadn't had much success, and you wore the face of a broken-hearted girl. You figured you would never be good enough for the big screen with how everything was panning out, yet one day, auditions were being held in your city for a romantic comedy that was going to be filmed in the same spot also. A young girl was needed that would resemble the main actress in order to accomplish flashback scenes. Of course, you begged your mother to take you once you received the news.

Sitting in the waiting area the day of, your mother had driven you and your sister all the way to the location, and it felt like days when in all reality it had been three hours before your turn was called. The audition line was packed, and your sister had been growing anxious, wanting food or water, anything that would keep her entertained. Your mom comforted her by handing her a notebook and a pen from her purse, "Here baby, draw on this, okay?"

You remembered seeing a girl similar in age to you exit into the lobby with a confident smile. Your heart rammed within your chest as your sweaty palms rubbed against your jeans. Each child had been handed a script to study in the time leading up to this moment you were anxious to begin. C'mon... You can do this. Your eyes shot up in the direction of where a door opened, "Next!" A lady with long, dark hair smiled at you kindly when she caught your timid eyes, and out of habit, something you even did at doctor visits, you turned to your mother as if to ask for permission to follow what seemed to be a genuine woman.

"Go on," your mom said softly, "I believe in you."

Comfort eased your countenance and you left with a smile in determination of needing to nail this audition. If your parents, believed in you, then you knew that you could do it. The squeak of the chair sounded the moment you rose to your feet soon finding yourself inside the audition room where the only thing you could hear was the light thudding of your heartbeat. A red cloth adorned the table before you, where four judges remained seated. One male with gray hair chewed on the back of his pencil before looking up at you behind thick-rimmed glasses.

"How are you today, Miss-" He looked over at a clipboard lying in front of the woman who led you to the audition room, "[Y/N]?"

"I'm good, how are you, sir?" You put on your best smile with pure genuine though your hands quivered at your sides.

"Good," he sounded cheery for that second, "Okay, Mrs. Yeun is going to read the lines which will be spoken by the character, Will." He gestured briefly to the left in introduction of a lady holding a clipboard, "And after she finishes her lines, that's when you'll obviously speak. Start your first line when you're ready,"

Looking back, you're sure he must have repeated himself a million times that day with each audition, yet you still felt as though you were the only soul surrounded by strangers though many mirrored the same feeling. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes while your fingers curled into your palms- releasing the moment you exhaled- gradually opening your eyes once you imagined yourself as the character you were supposed to be.

"Will!" You exclaimed whilst envisioning the highlighted lines you studied thoroughly- waving your arms frantically in the air as if to gain the fiction boy's attention, "Will! I- I found it! I found the treasure!"

"You did?" Though the voice of a woman read the part, you still pretended to see a messy haired boy with a galaxy of life behind his almond eyes while he rushed to see what you claimed you had found, "By golly, you did!"

The man then wanted you to read more of a serious scene between your character, Rose, and Will. Trying to think of sad things to keep your expression gloomy, forced tears welled within your eyes just enough to make your character compelling which resulted in applauding judges bidding a slew of congratulations after jotting down a few notes.

"We'll reach out if you make callbacks," the man nodded once and that's all it took before you ran out of the room with a smile from ear to ear. It took only a few days before you received a call back in which you were able to audition a second time but in front of the actual director of the film. You returned to Rose, the character you had grown to love already. This time, it took weeks before you had a callback, ending in nights of nervous tears that maybe your dreams wouldn't come true after all- your parents reassured you despite the inner angst of wondering the same as you, and told you not to give up no matter what the circumstances.

It was the call that changed your life forever. Dancing in the kitchen alongside your mother who was stirring the batter for some cupcakes, you remember as though it was only yesterday, small fingers gripping the device before greeting the person on the other end.

"Is this [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]?"

Your mom mouthed 'who is it?' when she caught the way your lips had parted in confusion at the male voice you couldn't recognize on the spot, but you answered, "Yes, sir," anyway. It was the screaming in excitement that nearly knocked the bowl out of your mother's hands when you heard the man confirm the hope you've so desperately held onto,

"Well, [Y/N]! I am thrilled to say that you made the part of Rose!"

Arrangements were then made- the company in charge of the movie rented a home for your family to stay in while the movie was being filmed, and considering the duration of how long a movie can be to make, your mother began to homeschool you to keep you from falling behind. On your first day of work, the cast members had gotten together to review the script. Your mother was hesitant to drop you off at first without her being by your side, but with the assurance from the director of your safety, she reluctantly agreed to let you go. Teary-eyed from the anxious feeling pounding in your chest, you walked into the room where a table full of adults greeted you along with two teenagers scrunched next to three empty seats. Not one soul seemed close to your age just yet, but you were politely introduced to your fellow castmates which relieved you enough to promise yourself everything would be okay.

"Hi, you must be Ye-jin!" The voice of a young boy rattled behind you causing you to gasp softly before whirling around to face your intruder. Dark hair swooped across his forehead where almond eyes presented eager, brown irises that beamed with kindness; his wrinkled light blue t-shirt was loose on his tiny frame as well as his jeans, and he was not much taller than you from what you observed.

"Oh no, sweetie!" The surrounding table erupted in frilly laughter, "I'm Son Ye-jin!" The most lovely woman you had ever seen gushed at his widening smile.

"Oh! Well, I'm Jimin! Park Jimin!"

"Well, the two of you take a seat. The director will be here any minute," a handsome man nestled beside Ye-jin gestured toward the empty seats you and Jimin waltzed to occupy. A few minutes of chatter filled the room while your eyes scanned the scene before as any child would do when uncertain of what would be happening next, but that's when a poke on your shoulder disrupted your stares,

"What's your name?" Jimin asked the second your eyes timorously moved to meet his.

"[Y/F/N]. [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]," You replied, "And you're Jimin,"

"Yes! I play Will! You must play Rose,"

"I do!"

The director and producers filed into the room before any more conversation could be continued, and for the next hour, the plot of the movie was further explained, though now, being an adult, looking back, you understand the synopsis much more than when you were ten years old first hearing it. The main characters discovered a treasure when they were children, unraveling secrets that could be worth a fortune. When the couple became adults, though had lost touch throughout the years, they never forgot about the treasure and the two individually set out to find it yet again. Unexpectedly, they bumped into each other and a love/hate relationship ensued until they found what they were looking for.

You and Jimin started filming different scenes together over the next five months after the script had been explained and reviewed. The pair of you became inseparable, growing closer with each scene finished. There was never a day that went by where you hadn't begged your parents to let him come over just for the two of you to practice your lines for whatever scheduled time for filming was planned next. Your father would bring home ice cream whenever he got off work to surprise you, your sister as well as your newfound friend, and you will never forget Jimin's melted chocolate smile or the way the ice cream would drip from his chin onto whichever shirt he'd claim was his favorite. Throwing a fit of giggles, he would chase you around the yard until he'd catch you- tickling your tummy until you took your outburst back. He also loved drawing with your sister, something he wasn't very good at, but he liked giving her company to prevent her from ever feeling left out.

Whenever the cast and crew had days off, Jimin would return to his hometown and you never could shake the loneliness you endured without him around. Though your sister enjoyed drawing or watching a movie, you more so preferred being outdoors, or practicing your lines which had been a daily chore since you became a part of this movie project, and of course, when Jimin would return, the pair of you would be driven to set to get back to work.

One particular scene, one you will never let be forgotten in your heart, is a moment where Will and Rose made an oath to be best friends forever. You and Jimin were directed to a swing set where the two of you took your seats, slightly swaying forward while the cameramen stood where assigned. Powder was dusted upon you and Jimin's faces to finalize everything before the yell of, "Action!" was voiced.

"You know, Rose?" Jimin became Will almost instantly, a talent not many ten-year-old children can perfect, but from what you remember, he had and has continued to blow minds away even from the beginning of his career. His expression was serious while his gaze remained on you as practiced. "I need you to promise me something,"

Looking at your black slippers, you noticed the swings were edging simultaneously, but you kept your focus solely on the words you were about to speak, "What is it, Will?" You tried to pull off your best curious face.

"I mean promise, even if you get tired of playing checkers with me,"

"Yes," you urged.

"And, if you get tired of playing tag even though you're always 'it,'"

"Yes," you dragged the word length in attempt to feign impatience.

"I mean you have to really promise me,"

"Okay, Will! I really, really promise," the wind calmed just enough to where your hair stopped tickling the sides of your face. Jimin hopped off the swing while his footsteps paused to face you completely. Even though you both were in acting mode, there was something serious behind his umber eyes that only you could see. One of the cameramen moved to film the side angles of you and Jimin's faces in order to capture the scene the way it had been imagined. Sometimes, with the camera being so close, it was hard to ignore, but at that moment, you were too absorbed with your character and Jimin's eyes to even glimpse in the camera's direction.

"Promise me that no matter what, we'll be best friends forever," the blurred sight of Jimin's pinky finger carefully raised in your line of vision, and for dramatic effect, you were told to count to three before your cue to say your line,

"I promise," you curled your pinky and locked it with Jimin's while a shy smile became present upon your lips, "Best friends forever."

"CUT! That's a wrap!" The director had said, but you vaguely remember that. All you had on your mind was the moment you and Jimin had shared. Though your lines had been written from a script, the two of you meant every word. That's why the scene had seemed so believable because there was truth in it.

Jimin was your best friend since that very day, and you pursued your dreams and have landed roles in plenty of hit movies since moving back to your hometown seven years ago. You're now a pretty well-known actress, but others find you humble in the fact that you never seem to show it off nor let the fame get to your head. Being seen in public has become one of caution, yet you adore every fan that comes your way asking for an autograph or a picture just so the memory of meeting you can be burned into their hearts forever.

Your dad, after your first movie, was transferred to officially work at a better job that happened to be in the same city that Jimin and his family lived in, which prompted your family to move being your mom as well as his became very good friends. You attended school with him at this point which he guided you due to you had been growing used to homeschool since your first movie. It was safe at the time to roam the halls of school- you and Jimin never became really famous, but your popularity gained with the pupils once joined the drama club resulting in auditioning for every musical or play the school had to offer. So, did your partner in crime, Park Jimin.

"You're doing it again," you snap back to the present with a sharp shaking of your head to dissolve the thoughts now scattering into your subconscious. Eyes clearing, you realize you've been zoned out for quite some time considering the subtle crease of worry tinged within Jimin's gaze.

"Sorry, Chim. I'm kinda-"

"Dazed," he finishes your sentence- his pink lips pressing into a tease of a smile.

"You know me so well,"

"I do," he winks taking a sip of his water bottle- swishing it around before swallowing, "Want to go out tonight? My schedule's clear for once,"

With busy lives of movies, sponsorships, premiers, cocktail parties, and anything revolving around this world of being on the go, it's hard to truly find the time to spend together which is something you've forced yourself to accept. But, miraculously, tilting your head, you comb back through your memory to realize you are, indeed, free this evening, "I would really like that, Chim. Thanks," you smile, excited to spend time by his side without cameras rolling in both your faces.

"No problem," he slips his hand in yours, carefully scanning behind you to confirm that not one person is watching. His warm fingers intertwine with yours while he leans closer, plush lips nearly tickling your temple, "Besides, I miss spending time with you," he whispers, you repressing the obvious tingles spreading across your skin- you turn in the direction of where the exit is visible, him following suit though hands remain locked.

"You're spending time with me now," you tease.

"You know what I mean," he rolls his eyes, yet his smile remains so wide, you feel the elevation of your heart flying. You love his smile, everything about him makes your head spin into a dizzy world of happiness. He's one of the biggest heartthrobs in the world; girls go crazy with his presence being in the same room as them; and, with many knowing him and his six best friends like the Bible, they don't really know Jimin like you do. It's the same for you, too. You love your fans more than life; you love reaching out to them on social media- signing at cons- meeting them in public when recognized and hearing the endless compliments on how wonderful you did in whatever movie has been released where you're the star of the plot. But as many times as he's said it, Jimin will always be your number one fan.

The fan who knows you.

Starring alongside him in the recent movie the pair of you have been working on was intimidating at first. You're not sure on how the press will react, or fans, or... the world. Jimin landed the role of Sam and nearly begged you to try out for Kylee who would in due course be the love interest for Jimin's character.

"Please! I'm begging you! You'll love it! It has action in it!" He nodded quickly while a ginormous smile with the shimmering pearl of his teeth nearly blinded you- his hands clasped together beneath his chin before he popped up and down in desperation, "Steve Aoki is the director and when I mentioned you to play the female lead, he freaked! He agreed that you should do it! C'mon [Y/N], please! You'd be brilliant!"

"Is this another excuse for you to kiss me again-"

"So, what if it is," Jimin's hands unlatched, "Are you complaining?"

Though it was merely a tease, your chest heated with a deep shade of red- your head shaking incredulously as you placed your palms upon your hips. You dragged on about another minute with skeptical eyes before lifting your hands in defeat, "Okay, I'll do it,"

"YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jimin grasped you in his arms while he spun you around- laughter being the only sound filling the space of his apartment. When you auditioned, you landed the role on the spot which led to Jimin whisking you into the air out of a manner of rejoicing. Your family cheered you on as well, proud of all your successes in the career you've accomplished. After skimming through the script for Kylee, you called one of your good friends, Maeve, thrilled about your new job. Maeve had played your best friend in a movie about five years prior, when you were nineteen, resulting in the two of you becoming real friends instantly.

"You already know I'm going to be front row when it's finally released," she said. The plot is about a young girl, Kylee, whose parents are spies and so is she. But a fatal accident happens that causes her family to go into hiding, and one boy's father had to pay the price. Jimin's character, Sam, is the son and had seen the face of Kylee's father and figured out the last name he had used when his mission had turned into a mistake. But Sam doesn't realize who Kylee is until he sees the ID cards in her bedroom- which is the scene you and Jimin had officially filmed nearly twenty minutes ago.

The conversation with Maeve then turned into how things had been going for her- how her boyfriend wouldn't take the hint that she wanted him to propose to her, "I don't understand why he's so blind! Like, do you love me or do you not? It isn't that hard,"

"Ah, boys," you snickered, "Shame, shame, shame,"

"Speaking of shame. Don't you have to kiss your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Mae. It's just for the movie," your words came off nonchalant despite the nervous tension that traveled throughout your body, and there were some things you haven't found the courage to admit to Maeve just yet. Besides, it wouldn't have been the first time you and Jimin kissed.

Daydream grinning along with the squint of your hazy eyes becomes apparent while the memory leaves you.

"What?" Jimin chuckles, turning to face you fully once the exit stands between your frames and the outside world. Your heart skips a beat from the way his beautiful smile stares down at you, and deep down, you wish you can tell him that, but the pair of you have been friends for so long, you're uncertain if making these feelings known is a good idea. Despite everything the pair of you have been through, you can't help but wonder if a relationship will bring you closer, or just tear your hearts completely apart. And, even now, years later, you're not sure if you can handle losing Jimin again.

"Nothing," you reply tenderly, eyes checking to examine his worn-out converse he has had since high school, "Just admiring your... fancy footwear,"

"Hah!" He laughs once, laying his head back, "I already told you, I'm going shopping today. Besides, I need a new outfit tonight, so wear something pretty," he pulls you in for a friendly hug, rubbing his free hand slightly on your back, each of you still holding your water bottles, yet you maneuver enough to nuzzle your nose into his chest.

"Since when do you care about what I wear?" Your chin moves to plop upon his chest while your eyes peer up at him with the arch of an eyebrow, pulling your lips into a goofy, tight grin.

"I don't," Jimin chortles, "But I know you do," it's the way he brings the tip of his fingers to your forehead tickling your skin to move a strand of hair so he can see your eyes clearly, "You look pretty in anything,"

If your heart isn't already combusting enough, it takes everything in you not to kiss him right then and there, and with a small huff in frustration, you pull your arms from his frame to then rest by your sides. "Alright then... pajamas it is,"

"See you later, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin tries to say between laughs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your cheek. The old nickname makes you giggle as you watch him step beyond the exit. Memories from high school present themselves almost immediately gracing the strange feeling of being sixteen again in your Junior year and auditioning for the spring musical where you and Jimin had landed the lead roles. Jung Hoseok, a mutual friend the pair of you gained, congratulated you both with a huge smile many knew him for. You played a fairy who happened to be in love with a human prince and of course, you and Jimin not only had to sing but had to dance, too, which led to Hoseok practicing dance moves with you two in effort to help.

Overjoyed was an understatement though dancing had always been something to hold you back. Jimin is a phenomenal dancer- raw talent to the point he makes it look easy with the way he poises his body so effortlessly upon the stage- swinging his limbs to the beat of the music, emotion etched on every inch of his face. You remember the endless pressure that seeped into your skin building anxious fingers that clasped tightly together when you were listening to the script Mrs. Lee had written.

Saying quick goodbyes to your castmates, the reminiscent disappears for a fractioned moment while you gather your items before sprinting to the limo where your driver, Stan, awaits you. Shouts of hundreds of fans boom instantaneously at the appearance of you leaving the set. Security surrounds the area in case of any danger, and though you reach to open the door, you turn to wave with the best Red Carpet smile you can muster- blowing a kiss to add to your appreciation.

The limo holds a haven you've grown to adore since your fame took off. Shutting the door, you slide to rest your head against the tinted window, politely greeting Stan before your eyelids flutter for the crave of sleep.

Jimin came over countless times just to practice dance steps; every now and then, Hoseok joining, despite the chagrin that haunted the crippling blushes dawning your cheeks. For the last musical number, the Grand finale, Jimin had to lift you in the air by the waist with you posing your limbs exactly how Mrs. Lee demanded leading Jimin to spin you around during the growing intensity of the belting harmonies before returning you to your feet. It hadn't been easy- something you'd grown to learn especially with the helpless moments of him firmly gripping your waist right when you'd jump sending the two of you tumbling onto the ground in bouts of breathless laughter. After weeks of attempting this one lift you couldn't seem to perfect, your parents happened to be out of town one evening for taking your sister to an art gallery about an hour's drive away. Your mother had been a tad iffy with leaving you and Jimin alone, but you assured her that it would be fine- just because he's a male didn't mean that she couldn't trust the pair of you to behave being you two had simply been friends for years, and nothing more.

Once your family left, Jimin arrived, setting the music in preparation for the mini rehearsal you'd been dreading for the thousandth time.

"Okay," you exhaled, carefully placing your hands upon his shoulders, "Now, lift me," Jimin obeyed, hoisting you as high as he could with a swift grunt escaping his pressed lips. His fingers dug into your sides unintentionally, and before you realized you'd closed your eyes, excitement showed in the widening of your smile- he was holding you up! Finally, longer than ten seconds you remained there,

"I. Got. You," Jimin said between clenched teeth, until suddenly, his arms shuddered beneath you ensuing the shape of an "oh" that formed on your mouth.

"GAH!"

Jimin fell backward onto the couch- your side bouncing off the cushion for your gluteal muscles to meet the wooden floor. Stunned, you'd never seen Jimin's eyes so enlarged, but before you could gather your bearings, you blew at loose hairs that were static over your eyes,

"Ouch."

"HAH!" Jimin let out a high-pitched, one-syllable laugh, already covering his mouth with both of his hands to stifle the chuckling, but it was no use. Clapping a few times, he buried his shoulder into the couch while a breathy snicker escaped your side smile. Tears flooded your eyes from the hysteria of the moment- springing to your feet to then fixing your wrinkled shirt.

"Okay, okay," you breathed, trying to resume composure just enough to stop giggling at yourself, "Let's do this one more time! Chop chop!" Hitting your hands together like how Mrs. Lee tended to do to receive her pupils' attention, Jimin pranced to plant his feet in front of you, repositioning his hands on your waist, "Wait," you paused, concern abruptly covering his eyes while he waited for you to speak, swallowing, you began, "Chim Chim, I need you to promise me something," Lips in a firm line, you held his gaze. It was hard to be serious at times with your best friend, but for right now, you rejected from breaking.

"Anything," he nodded once, searching your stare, lips parted, and realizing how close he was sparked a strange desire that you never wanted to reveal before.

"But you have to really, really promise me,"

When a knowing smirk twitched on his lips, his eyes now held the memory that you were trying to remind him of, "Okay,"

"Even," you continued, "If I love beef bulgogi a little more than I probably should. And-" you paused for effect.

"Go on,"

"Even if you laugh like a maniac and I can't take it," teasing had always been something you both loved to do, and bowing his head with more laughter, he returned even closer than before- his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"Alright, alright! I promise! I really, really promise,"

Eyes still locked, you slowly raised your pinky finger up to him, investigating his expression letting nothing but the sound of the starting air condition fill the space,

"Don't. Drop. Me,"

A soft chuckle enhanced his smile causing a pitter patter beneath your chest, while you joined him. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth- something that he does when he's really tickled, and the sight of it made your heart swell in ways you hardly understood. How could someone have such a strong effect on you?

"First off, I prefer Kimchi stew,"

"Oh, you. Ham!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Jimin reached for your hand, hooking his petite pinky finger around yours to conceal the promise you had forced him to make, "I promise I won't drop you this time," he twirled you once like a gentleman, placing his hands back on your waist once you faced him.

"1, 2, 3!" Jimin, with all his might, boosted you into the air, immediately spinning you around. Now think ballet, you reminded yourself, holding your arms with elegancy. After four twirls, Jimin effortlessly set you down and overwhelmed with pure exhilaration, you couldn't refrain from rejoicing, "We- we did it! Jimin, we did it!"

Right then, you kissed him. Cupped his cheeks into your palms and pecked his lips. You hadn't been thinking entirely straight, but it all happened so fast that it took a second for you to comprehend. Hushed. Silence engrossed the room to the point that your heart throbbed in your temples mingled with the growing heat on your reddened skin- perspiration clammed your palms, yet the only thing frightening your state was the attempt on not panicking though you knew deep within your soul that you'd never regret it. Gulping, your eyes fell to the slow fall and rise of Jimin's chest- his gray shirt showing the iridescent silver pendant you gifted him for his past birthday staring right back at you.

You just kissed your best friend.

Jimin stood there, questions swarming full circle within your mind; feeling distraught, your lips pressed together to prevent the tears burning your nose. You remember figuring that he was angry with you, hence why he couldn't invoke any words to speak. But, unexpectedly, gentle fingertips lifted your chin, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, but that's when your eyes met as if meeting for the first time, the innocence of the moment not once lost while you anticipated the sight of his nervous expression lowering to yours. You held your breath, eyes closing, every inch of the world disappearing. It was just you and him as it'd always been.

He kissed you. He kissed you right back.

With shivering arms, you wrapped them tightly behind his neck while he moved to encase you closer to him, bodies pressed into a blanket of warmth, you never wanted to uncover from. Feelings you had denied time and time again were showing in that kiss with Jimin- a surreal image you never dreamed you would experience, yet here he was, wrapped in your arms- lips moving to relock with yours so lovingly that your mind was rotating. Nothing could compare to the soaring of your heart, especially sharing something so passionate with someone you had grown to love so much, and this new feeling, one you'd never quite endured ignited a curiosity you couldn't withhold any longer.

The kiss grew aggressive, breaths increasing while dazed eyes remained shut, and though track of time had been misplaced, you no longer cared. Hands pressed against Jimin's chest, he gradually stepped backward until the back of his calves greeted the sofa- breaking the kiss, he swallowed anxiously, eyes never leaving yours- collapsing onto the couch before you propped either leg beside him in a perfect straddle. Snatching his kiss rapidly, your palms held his face while he finicked with where to place his eager hands, gliding up your back in awe of how beautiful you were to him.

You left him completely and utterly breathless, and you wanted this moment to last forever.

Everything had been going perfectly until your parents walked in-

SLAM!

The loud sound of the car door jolts you awake as you blink through the mild darkness. Previous memories fade for now, swiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before thanking Stan for the ride. The white mansion stands tall beyond the gate where you punch in a code to then proceed onto the property. It appears your mother is not home momentarily, where as your sister and father are visiting an art show in another town, giving you time to prepare for whatever Jimin has in store for you later this evening.

There's a feeling of relief when kicking off your shoes, parading up the spiral staircase toward your closet that waits for your attention. Sifting through the rack of dresses, you close your eyes to randomly select from a hanger in a mechanism to prevent you from being in disappointment; yet, you find your shoulders dramatically dropping when you peek to see what is now hanging from your hand. You're uncertain of why you feel the need to judge every article of clothing you own, and you figure it has to do with impressing a guy, but you are aware that Jimin will accept you for who you are no matter what, so why are you so worried?

You love him- you wince, because that's something you are still struggling with confessing even though it has been blatantly clear since you were sixteen years old that you are wholeheartedly and irrevocably in love with Park Jimin. And, that never changed even years after losing him.

You remember that night like it was yesterday, the very first time you and Jimin kissed. Caught in the moment of what the pair of you secretly dreamed of with no recollection of how much time had passed. No bad intentions were going to be followed through, honestly no other thought from kissing him was even considered for you; all you cared about was how you never wanted him to leave.

But, your mother, unfortunately, assumed the worst.

There wasn't even a chance for you to stop what had already begun, it was too late- your parents walked right into the sight of you lip locked with your best friend, prompting you to immediately jump off him. The gesture was so quick that a slight headache thudded, and all that was flooding your widened gaze was your mother's horrified expression. She happened to be the first to enter the door while your father and sister lagged, luckily missing the already humiliating scene that nobody would ever want their parents to see. With gritted teeth, your mother's icy glower said enough, but she still voiced for Jimin to leave. Him flashing you an apologetic look while he stumbled to gather his things. Your father had no idea of what was happening until he heard your mother shouting at you for over an hour.

"I thought I could trust you!" Your mother jabbed a finger at you, pacing back and forth in front of you while you wailed into your pillows. "I can't believe you betrayed my trust!"

"I've already told you I was so-sorry-" You choked, wishing nothing more for this feud to end, begging the universe to turn back time, so you could have anticipated of when your family would have returned home- saving you and Jimin from this shame.

"What if we had run an hour late, huh!? For God's sake, [Y/N], you're only sixteen!"

"Mom! It-It wasn't like that!"

"Well, it sure looked like it!" Tears brimmed her eyes, because her heart was just as torn as yours, battling with what she should do as a parent, but also inwardly understanding what it was like to experiment in falling for someone at a young age. Something she hadn't really shared with her children. She had left the room for quite some time, trails remaining damp upon your cheeks before your mother returned with firmly crossed arms.

"Mom, I promise, it wasn't my intention," your voice broke, trying to gather whatever explanation you could, but she stopped you.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but I talked to your father and we came to an agreement. You will finish out the school year here, but once it's over, we're moving back home."

It was like your world shattered all at once in so many different directions, and there was no way to describe the abrupt halt of your heart mirroring in the way your eyes expanded in sheer dismay. "No! No, no, no- Mom, what about Jimin!? I can't just leave him!" The pain etched in your cries haunted your mother more than you'd ever know, but at the time she was doing what she assumed was the right decision.

"That's the point, [Y/N]. You're not allowed to see Jimin, speak to him, or even think about trying to see him. I've already spoken to his mother,"

"But- but what about the play?" You panicked, desperation clinging within your words, not wanting to process what was just demanded of you.

"I don't know. Right now, I'm too upset to decide."

It was the worst night of your life. One thing you never expected throughout your friendship with the one person who mattered most to you, was losing Jimin, especially knowing that once school ended, you would move back to your hometown, far away out of his reach. Your cellphone was already locked in your parent's room, and any form of technology, you would no longer be in possession of if your mother could help it. Bawling uncontrollably, you cursed fate for taking away what could have been.

The spring musical was the only time you and Jimin were able to truly see each other amongst rehearsals; and the night the play began, the pair of you performed with all you had, trying to mask the hurting as if it hadn't existed, portraying as though all was well when really your world was falling apart. Even when the evil fairy sprinkled dark magic upon the Prince's Kingdom, Mrs. Lee flew her fingers speedily along the piano enhancing the volume, imaging the chaos felt beneath your chest. The Prince and evil fairy battled it out until the enemy was defeated, the piano softening to a more pleasant sound that eased you enough to force your face into a loving grin.

The cast crowded around the both of you, but you hadn't noticed, because the only person you longed for, getting lost in his shining eyes was Park Jimin's. "Fairy, my love, listen to the sound of my voice," he bowed, reaching his hand toward you- hands collided tenderly, "Whether ye stay or whether ye go, you have a choice." You yearned for it to be real, that you had a choice- that you could stay with him. Stay with him there in this city where the two of you could remain best friends and possibly become even more. "Just promise me, as each day passes, that ye will never forget thy love or my Kingdom as long as ye live." You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting tears at the finishing of Jimin's final line.

"My prince, in every dream I dream, I choose thee," though not within the script, Mrs. Lee always preached improvisation, and lightly, you touched his cheek, him flickering his stare between yours whilst leaning into your palm, the Kingdom rejoicing when Jimin pulled you into a crushing hug. The faint smell of his cologne met your nostrils causing you to memorize this moment as best as you could, so you'd remember everything about him. His touch, his hold, his smell, his smile. Anything you could take with you in hopes of getting to see him again one day.

When the intro of the duet is keyed from the piano, hand in hand, you and Jimin faced the audience, smiles as heart stopping as could be, belting harmony from beginning to end, both capturing the audience with every word. Blended voices were breathtaking when the cast joined in, finalizing the night with dancing eyes and goosebumps across the theater, and even more applause when Jimin effortlessly succeeded in the originally dreaded lift where he spun you in the air, returning to plant your feet upon the stage. While the crowd stood to their feet in an ovation, the cast had you and Jimin hidden enough, and although time was ticking, Jimin hadn't cared. His palms cupped your cheeks while you tried to read his hurried eyes, the tip of his nose brushing yours before he captured your quivering lips. The kiss was soft. So soft, and when it ended, he whispered through the loud whistles of the audience to where only you could hear, "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you," tears fell from your cheeks, and he gripped your hand as soon as the cast dispersed into a line, uncovering the pair of you as rehearsed, leading to everyone bowing while the clapping continued to reverberate throughout the building. Although, beyond proud to be a part of such a successful production, nothing could take away the pain hounding your heart when your hand had to ghost Jimin's to find your parents. Your mother refused to let you out of her sight, and whether your parents were proud of your performance or not, you never knew, because not a single member spoke on the way home. Instead your mind replayed the secret kiss Jimin gave you over and over to the point it welcomed you in your dreams. It was hard not to cry when you had awoken, eventually breaking into a fit of sobs wishing Jimin had been there to hold you.

Depression was evident in your demeanor, and there was nothing anyone could have done to 'fix' you, or the situation you felt so hopelessly in bondage by. When the last day of school arrived, it had been the worst, and you and the person your heart belonged to had not spoken in months. Times where he would glimpse your way in drama class, you just couldn't bring yourself to face him, because it hurt way too much to accept the reality that you were leaving. You figured his mother informed him of your family moving back, especially since he never seemed to give up on trying to get you to at least look at him.

That last day of class, you cuddled your music binder to your chest, backpack straps hanging loosely from your shoulders, and you strolled upon the sidewalk to wait for your father to come pick you up. It was a sudden moment, when you curiously turned to lock eyes distantly with your best friend. You both stared, yet the way your heart sank to the floor, all you wanted more than anything was to run to him, embrace him in all entirety, kiss him for what you presumed would be the last time, and savor the moments you would have had with him. But, you couldn't, and you didn't; instead, you mouthed three words that you meant with all your soul, 'I love you.' Jimin bit at the corner of his mouth as fresh tears pooled- he looked down momentarily as if destiny had betrayed him before returning his eyes to yours, 'I love you, too.' As if it could have been anymore of an opportune time, your father arrived right then to pick you up, and in fear that he had seen Jimin, your head whirled to look back where your best friend had been to see he was gone, prompting a painful, long sigh of relief.

It had only taken a week for your family to officially move, finding a much larger home which happens to be the mansion your family resides in now. Although the space was nice, it still took months until you forced yourself to move on from the dancing boy that had appeared in your dreams almost every night. The boy who had stolen your heart when you hadn't realized it. There was an attempt, when you were allowed your cellphone back, that you tried reaching out to discover his number had been disconnected, and despite the gnawing of confusion, you guessed his mother must have changed his number, the same as your parents had changed yours.

Eventually, after a year of returning to your hometown, which included graduating high school, your mother convinced you to get back into acting, to audition for as many things as you could until you found a job. So, that's what you did to keep your mind busy, scouring any information you could get regarding auditions for tv shows, movies, commercials, absolutely anything that would just keep you going. Sporadically, you landed the lead role in two separate movies, gained a celebrity friend, Maeve, and continued into the years piled immensely with interviews, traveling, movie premiers, award shows, your fame skyrocketing to the point millions knew your name.

And just like that, your world became brand new. Became a clean slate. Your past buried behind you while you sprung forward. Your success in the acting business brought numerous calls pleading for you to audition for their movies; businesses were begging you to promote their products; magazines arranged for your photoshoots where you appeared on a myriad of covers- you rarely had a clear schedule, and you liked it that way. Lights, cameras, paparazzi, meeting other famous individuals as well as meeting your fans, you were becoming happy again, you were finally returning to having a steady relationship with your parents, and your sister improved in her artistic ability. You were slowly forgetting about the boy you once knew.

You made callbacks for yet another movie at one point, but unfortunately, had not gotten the lead role as hoped for, rather, you played a minor character which ultimately gave you a break from the consistent moving. Your body needed a break; your mind needed rest, and so you decided to take a short break until you found the motivation to search for another job. The movie merely didn't make it far- critics claimed the plot had been too predictable, but it made it to the big screen regardless, and for that you were grateful. Another year passed, now being twenty-two years old, you and Maeve went on a shopping spree throughout the streets of your favorite city, sipping frappuccinos in the smothering heat of summer, a poster happened to catch your eye. Stopping to read it, the straw of your drink pressed to your bottom lip, Maeve's furrowed eyebrows veered from you to the poster.

"What is it?" She asked, ears perked to the sound of clicking cameras though the pair of you have learned to ignore it. Mumbling the words along with you, Maeve leaned forward, "Auditions being held for a romantic comedy this Saturday.... 9am to 3pm... Oh wow! You should audition!"

"What? Why me? Why just me?" You turned your head abruptly while studying your giggling friend.

"You said so yourself that you wanted to be in a comedy! And, there ya go, how much more of a coincidence can this be?"

"A poor one," you took a long sip from your drink quelling laughter from the incredulous gape Maeve flashed you.

"Are you not going to at least try? You are [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N] for crying out loud!"

You were tempted, and you honestly hadn't been in a comedy since you were... Ten years old. Chick flicks had mostly been your calling though funny moments of course were mingled amongst the seriousness. "That I am, but I don't sit on a throne, Maeve, I'm just as normal as it gets."

"If you define normal as putting your potato chips in your sandwich then I guess you're right,"

"It gives it a lil' crunch," your mouth missed your straw awkwardly, but you swerved just enough to catch it, "you should try it sometime."

"I'll try it when you audition for this movie," Maeve teased, "Which you will even if I have to drag you there myself,"

"You have much faith concealed in that tiny body, but okay,"

So therefore, you auditioned. It was the lead role you applied for which was about a character who caught the eyes of two guys the second she stepped into the school. The movie seemed hilarious from what you could collect, and you were shaking your head in laughter when you called Maeve exclaiming how you had gotten the part as she predicted. Although, she squealed in glee, she was dreading the idea of adding potato chips to her sandwich as she promised she would if you made the part.

The following week, you couldn't wait to meet your co-workers as well as the rest of the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were immeasurably curious of who would be casted as your character's love interests. Though numerous options, it was hard to guess, though your mind filtered through familiar faces in the acting business. The producers and director filed into the room when chairs began to fill, slapping a thick script in front of everyone.

"There's been a slight change of plans for the story," the director said, prompting your eyebrows to knit together as you wondered what he could potentially mean, "Instead of two guys fighting over you," he pointed in your direction, "there will be seven!"

Interested grunts and 'awes' echoed in the space, and you nodded in surprise; seven? Seven men wanting you all at once? That would sound farfetched to any woman, even in the position you're in as an actress, it remained unbelievable. The director rubbed his hands together, "They couldn't make it today, but we will officially meet them tomorrow to finish looking over the script."

It seemed as if all you did was blink when you made it to set the next day, dressed in your favorite boot heels and casual wear- you weren't paying a bit of attention when you suddenly smacked dab into someone who happened to over tower you.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" He said, his fingers tickling your arms from where he hoped you would stay steady.

"It's fine! I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going," you chuckled against the chagrin burned red upon your chest, and you couldn't help but be starstruck by the incredibly handsome face staring down at you. Noticeable dimples rested on either side of his grinning cheeks, and the coffee color of his eyes radiated kindness, and of course, you wondered innocently if he was one of the potential love interests the director mentioned the day before.

"I'm Kim Namjoon," he offered his hand which of course you took, enchanted by his smile, but you scolded yourself interiorly due to the obvious fact of not knowing him personally enough to care on whether he was available or not. There seemed to be a recognition in his countenance that you typically notice when people realize who you are, and you couldn't help the flattery when his hand still latched to yours picked up the pace while shaking it. "Oh my gosh! You're the [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]! My girlfriend loves you!"

"That is so sweet of her," you were still blushing, but deeply touched by his words. Namjoon, dropped his hand in embarrassment from how long he had shaken yours, mumbling an apology, he slid his slim hands within his pockets.

"I must say, I am very honored to meet you. I've seen two of your movies with her and you were phenomenal!"

"Thank you very much, Namjoon! That means a lot. I hope I get to meet your girlfriend soon, she sounds like such a sweetheart," you tried to think if you had seen him in anything that had come out recently, but couldn't place a thing. You continued into the same room as yesterday, pulling your script from your bag, you settled into a seat before observing your surroundings, noticing in your peripherals Namjoon taking a seat beside a guy who appeared very quiet. Long, straightened blue strands spread upon his forehead while his dark eyes scanned the room. His lips were thinner compared to Namjoon's, and they rested contently while he leaned back in his chair. You tried not to stare too much, but when he caught you, you grinned instead of averting your eyes, relief flooded your senses when his lips raised into a side grin in return- his nametag reading 'Min Yoongi.'

When the seat on the other side of Yoongi skidded against the concrete floor, you instinctively looked to the sound, beyond amazed at the sight you saw. You weren't one to spike perspiration on the lining of your forehead just from seeing a man, but with the way his bandana complimented his brown tendrils neatly stacked on his head, you were beside yourself. His square jaw was locked in concentration while his petal pink lips pursed- his chocolate eyes rushed over the lines where he opened his script.

"Kim Taehyung?" A staff member asked, Taehyung nodded in reply, the worker placed the nametag before him, rounding the table to set yours before you. You would honestly never get used to people knowing who you are prior to an introduction considering the staff member had not questioned if you were indeed you. Thought aside, you were very taken aback on how sculpted this man was to a heavenly perfection.

"No, I didn't mean to trip the guy, I just wanted some food!" You vaguely identified the male whose windshield wiper laugh pleasantly greeted your ears while he found a seat, "Seriously, I hadn't seen him standing there." He poised his head enough to lock eyes with Min Yoongi, and you tilted your head curiously with question if they happened to know each other. But my, so far, who you assumed were going to be the men who were going to fight for your love, you were quite mesmerized by their beauty.

"Hello, my name is Chan-ri, I'm a huge fan of yours, how are you?" The exquisitely rosy cheeks of a red headed female entered your vision, and hearing her name, you remembered her from a TV show you binge watched with Maeve before. Genuinely, you offered a handshake, her comfortably taking the seat beside you. After you thanked her for her compliment whilst answering her question, she leaned in closer to your ear, "Is it just me or are these guys ca-ute?"

"The one in the bandana is looking better and better," you winked.

"Gosh, I couldn't agree more. And, I don't know if you've heard the rumors. But, the singer Jeon Jeongguk, apparently auditioned for a role,"

Eyebrows raised when you heard his name, "You're kidding!" You gasped in excitement. "Euphoria is literally my favorite song by him!"

"I could rave about his music all day long!" His presence entered the room as if on cue, hushing you and Chan-ri into bottled-up giggles, her winking at you in a way to say, 'we will talk later when the coast is clear.' A man with even redder hair than Chan-ri followed behind the well-known singer, and your lips parted in a silent gasp along with your amplified glance. "H-Hoseok?" He immediately sought for who said his name, and when he realized it was you, he couldn't help the smile that decorated his face.

"[Y/N]!" He greeted loudly, shuffling to collide into your hug, "Wow, how have you been? I haven't seen you in years!"

He helped you with dance moves for the spring musical sparking memories you hadn't reminisced in what felt like a lifetime ago, but here he was, in the flesh. "What a small world, I've been wonderful! How are you, Hoseok? What have you been up to? Look at you! So handsome!"

Hoseok thanked you before catching up with his life- he decided to go into acting when he graduated from Konkuk University with his soon-to-be fellow co-stars Seokjin and Yoongi which all made sense as to why Seokjin seemed comfortable talking to Yoongi earlier. Due to the encouragement of an individual he befriended, in high school, Hoseok explained how it stemmed him to chase his dreams, and here he was, auditioning for his first movie, excited to reunite with a familiar face from his past. He sat on the other side of Chan-ri, making conversation with her while you focused on the twiddling of your fingers. A poke on your shoulder made you jump an inch,

"Excuse me, is this where we meet?" A lighter voice spoke, but there was a distinct familiarity to it. When you faced the direction of where the question came from, the first thing you visualized was a silver necklace holding a pendant you hadn't seen since you were sixteen- one that you gifted someone as an emblem of your friendship- you were confused because not many people owned this specific piece of jewelry, and when your eyes slowly made the adventure to the individual's face, the rigidity paralyzed your frame faster than you could anticipate. Those eyes.

You knew those eyes. Better than anyone.

There was no stopping the intense hammering of your heartbeat; your temples pounded profusely, and he was frozen in place at the sight of you, because of your eyes. Neither of you moved, because there was disbelief at who either of you were looking at- his hair, now dyed, gleamed sleek blonde tendrils parted but long enough to tickle the lateral canthus' of his eyes, face thinned in a mature eloquence. It had been nearly seven years since the last time you ever saw him, and even then, he reflected your confusion, anxiously collecting whatever jumbled words he could form into sentences, but it was too late. The director enthusiastically entered the room, dispersing the moment just as quickly as it came.

"Greetings everybody! I see you've met our seven new cast members!" He grinned ear to ear, gesturing his hands toward all the guys. Shivering, but trying to keep it maintained, you watched your long-lost friend take a seat across from you next to Jeongguk. "Oh, and here's your nametag," the director plopped one in front of Jimin, you swiftly dropped your gaze, gritting your teeth in reaction to the strong waves of shivers plaguing your body. He was there. Park Jimin, as though you were acquainted with a ghost, was sitting right there in the midst of the small crowd, but with the way your muddled state was feeling- it had been only you two.

"Alright, let's open our scripts to page three. We need to review some main points of the story line." The director informed, but you were hardly listening, yet you kept your eyes zoned upon the booklet before you, only flipping pages at the sound of others doing so. Too many memories spun nonstop like a whirlwind, and you could sense Jimin glimpsing at you in the same wonderment as you were.

The trips to Mcdonalds where you both would split a large fry and dream about the future; the afternoon at school when the pair of you laughed about some cocky kid who face-planted in PE while playing soccer; the days you'd go jogging together and joke about anything under the sun; the moment when you two were drawing with your sister, and you thought Jimin's cow doodle was a duck. One of your fondest memories was your fifteenth birthday when Jimin, even Hoseok, along with your parents planned a huge surprise party just for you; the get-togethers with the drama club; auditioning for the lead roles in the spring musical and landing them. And the grand finale, when Jimin kissed you on what had been a final goodbye before exiting the stage that very night.

Nobody, other than Hoseok, in that room knew of the friendship you and Jimin once had. Nobody in the world would have known except the pupils the two of you attended school with. You were aware that if Jimin were to become famous, people would dig deeper to find that the both of you were in a movie together at ten years old, and all the other evidence that would explode within the media. You, to this day, will never forget the anxiety shooting through your figure while you pretended to review the script wishing you had the guts to just look at him.

The meeting ended in a blur, and you slung your bag over your shoulder, death gripping the script, and rushing out of the room where you felt as though you had been suffocating. You did not want to relive the heartbreak, so in desperation, you wanted to run.

He stopped you before you could even make it halfway to the entrance.

"Wait!" He bellowed. People were bustling by without any concern, but with the risk of a paparazzi capturing this moment you knew would need to be private, you ducked into the other side of a large staircase that appeared vacant aside from a tall plant, and Jimin followed suit- you spinning to see him sprinting toward you. For once you then understood when people described something to relate to a scene from a movie, because there was the love of your life, as if in a movie, running until he reached where you were. He was breathing heavily from the frenetic gesture, and understandably speechless, the pair of you weren't sure where to remotely begin. Swiping a slow hand through his hair, he looked so exquisite as he always had, and though you didn't want to revert to staring at the tiled floor of the opposite side of the lobby, you did. Carefully, he slipped his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together in apparent worry.

"You're- you're blonde now," though small, a hint of a smile tinged your lips, a breathy laugh broke through Jimin's tight-lipped grin that infamously made his eyes disappear.

"Yeah," Jimin whispered tenderly, "Felt it was time for a change, ya know? Have been getting it colored since my twentieth birthday," breaking the ice enough, you found the strength to meet his gaze. His lips parted to then close multiple times, until he wetted them, "As you can tell, I honestly, don't know what to say, but, my God, I am so proud of you,"

"Jimin-" your voice broke, chin trembling from the burning tears when you knew that he was referring to your success, and the woman you have become. He stepped closer, releasing one hand from his pocket holding it out as if to calm the nervous tension.

"Really, [Y/N], I- you-" stammering through his words, you could see that he was blatantly in as much shock as you were, processing the fact that his long lost love was standing before him in all your glory. "I gave up acting in high school," he swallowed roughly, "as you can imagine, I was going through a rough time." He had been terrified to admit the reasoning considering the pair of you had no idea what had happened personally in each other's lives in the time between, and though he battled with what to say, he found the courage to just say it regardless, "When I lost you, I felt like- I just felt like there was no reason to really try anymore."

"Jimin," you whispered as if pleading with him, "I tried reaching out to you, but your number was disconnected- it was, it was disconnected, I-"

"No, [Y/N], please, don't cry- it's not your fault- Please," this time, he inched so close, that if you would have collected enough bravery, you could have rested your forehead at the curve of his chin where he could have invited you in for the warmth you could fall forever deep in. Eyes refusing to break contact, he continued, "After I saw your first movie, there were a few interviews I listened to where you said some of the most encouraging things, and I realized, if there was anyone I aspired to be like, it's you." Surprise lingered in your expression, because how could any of this be real? You knew stories like this were only filmed for the interest of the world, so how could someone you once cherished return out of the blue to tell you exactly what you needed to hear? "You, [Y/N], are the reason why I never gave up on myself. Why I never gave up at all. Why... I decided to go back to what I loved."

You were his inspiration, and because of that he ended up here. Back when you thought fate was so cruel to take him away from you, here he was, back into pursuing his passion for acting, all because he never gave up on you. You hated falling apart, you hated crying unless it was for the cameras, but in all vulnerability, especially when Jimin pulled you into his arms where your nose pressed into his chest, you cried. With all the pent-up emotions from a time you tried to avoid, you cried. Jimin refused to let you go until you were okay, and without any delay, you stayed by his side, repudiating from going home when you had seven years of catching up to do. There was barely any attention on anything, not even how Jimin opened his hotel room door without you stealing his kisses to the point you couldn't breathe. Fingers tangled into his shirt, he kicked the door behind him, emotions pouring from the way he kissed you as though he was going to lose you again. The most experience you knew, sexually, was from scenes you filmed with other actors- mostly steamy make out sessions, but you had never personally done the 'deed' in reality. Your back plopped upon the bed, palms pressed on either side of Jimin's jaw where your fingertips graced his hair, his hands cradling the sides of your waist while he continued to part his lips so gently with yours.

"Wait," you stopped, Jimin's enlarged eyes flashed concern as though he may have hurt you, "No, no, you haven't done anything wrong. I just- I just," you trailed off, chest rising and falling to steady your nerves. "I've never..."

Jimin exhaled a sigh of relief, bowing his head enough to where his hair feathered your cheeks, "I haven't either." You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised especially with all you had heard from stories others had told about men when it came to sex. But, at the same time, you always knew Jimin was different. Or, maybe it was purely meant to be, how you two abstained from something that was destined to be saved for the pair of you to share with one another. "I don't," Jimin's eyes flickered between your own because if there was anyone, he had an immense respect and adoration for, it was you, "I don't want to rush you into anything-"

"Jimin," your thumbs ran along the soft skin of his face, halting his words, "I want you,"

There was a hopeful smile that beamed from him before he covered your lips with even more kisses, making your head spin in a bliss you only ever felt when being with him. "Are you sure?" He pulled away; eyes boring into yours as if reading every inch of your soul.

"More than anything," you nodded, lifting your head to touch your lips to his for only a mere second. He was so in awe of you that he would do anything for you, and that never changed and never will. Kissing him was the most captivating addiction, and you never wanted it to end. Still completely clothed- the innocence would have been humorous in others' eyes, but the two of you were learning. And, the two of you were wanting to learn together and that's all that mattered to you. Park Jimin had never made you feel uncomfortable at any point that night, and you knew he wasn't going to overstep any boundaries. The fast pace of his lips sparked a feeling to rise within your core- a new feeling you wanted so eagerly to explore, the warmth was nearly smothering your panties, and you instinctively spread your legs to where he comfortably remained, his hips grinding his clothed erection along your area, where the crave to feel the entirety of his skin was all you could think about.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your fingers underneath his t-shirt, his stare timorous whilst you lifted it past his head, exposing the rock-solid muscles toned along his arms and abdomen. Your mouth watered causing you to gulp- never in your life had you seen such a masterpiece, even from his jawline to his soft, blonde hair- you still couldn't muster how ethereal this man before you was. Tossing his shirt to the ground, he remained above you, the necklace you gifted him years ago dangling before he kissed you hard while your fingertips soothed along his back, his hand moving to cup your attired breast, tenderly squeezing it releasing a soft moan from your lips. Just the feel underneath your fingertips of his warm skin made you anxious to feel him molding into you- gripping his wrists, leading them to the end of your shirt, Jimin lifted it off you- your lacy bra staring back at his broadening eyes which caused his breath to hitch in the back of his throat.

"Oh," he groaned, "[Y/N], you are so perfect," his words nearly brought you to tears; your hands rested upon his cheeks, bringing him back to you to plant a soft kiss on his thick lips, him lowering to where his skin finally met yours, the enticing move enveloping you all at once, you could hardly contain yourself, exhaling against his lips just for him to brush his tongue along yours. One by one the clothes came off until his bare legs were jumbled with yours, his erection rubbing along your dampened heat, his thumbs caressing your nipples- the ticklish feeling caused your fingers to dig into his back. Jimin nipped at your collarbone, leaving numerous kisses along your chest, moving backwards to kiss along your stomach, the wetness lingering while your eyes slammed shut in utter paradise. He pecked along your hip bones, his hands never leaving your breasts until he made it to your inner thighs. Slithering his fingers to cling onto your quivering limbs, he spread your legs, his breath panting tepidly along your folds, his eyes widening with the urge he always wanted to fulfill, and only with you. You had never experienced this, and though you had heard of the such thing from various sources, you were curious to know what it felt like. Your clit rhythmed with your hyperventilating, him moving to kiss your inner thighs before returning to your vulva. Your toes curled along the bed sheets, your body tensing in preparation- and that's when he did it.

Gently licking his tongue along your slit, up and down, the motion emancipating a high-pitched moan from your throat which motivated him to continue. He brought his fingers to spread your folds, your core clenching while he sped the movements of his tongue- licking and licking until your hips involuntarily began to shift- your fingers gripping the bed sheets- sweat beading your forehead. For a few minutes, he continued to pleasure you, the tip of his tongue sliding against your clit before returning to hover above you. Though you were uncertain if what you were about to do would be done correctly, you moved your hand to hold his erection, gliding up and down gradually, him hissing with how good it felt to have your hand wrapped around him. That gave you the inclination that everything was being done smoothly; Jimin rested his lips to where your heart pounded, then moved to suck your nipple while your hand did the work, his hands squeezing at the mattress in response to the growing feel of an orgasm.

He stopped you, not wanting to cum too soon, instead interlaced his fingers with yours and rested your closed hands against the pillows above your head. Your core still tightening from how aroused you were, both of you held each other's gaze, you nodded that you were ready. Ready for what you two had been longing for. He swallowed nervously, "I, um, I don't have a condom,"

"Oh," you seemed a bit more scared than how you really felt, "well, I mean, I am on birth control for my... monthly cycle, so I don't think... I should be good," relieved, his knees rested on either side of your legs; lips parted, Jimin's eyes met yours, him leaning forward to stay above you- your legs raising to spread in preparation- while his one hand rested beside your head, he took the other to hold his erection to your heat, your shoulders tensed from the butterflies swarming your stomach.

"Are you sure?" His whisper was nearly inaudible, but nothing in this world would ever change your mind.

"Yes," you nodded, breathless. "Please." Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders- slowly he began to push within your walls- the pain nearly brought you to tears- but, you clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to relax just enough for him to penetrate further, his heart thrumming beneath his chest, especially with the pain he did not want to inflict on you.

"[Y/N], I'm so sorry, are you sure about this, I don't want to hur-" he paused immediately when he heard a muffled cry escape you.

"It's okay, keep going," your eyes were squeezed shut, and you eased your body from the tension knowing he was halfway there. Steadily, he moved further until all of him was within you, the worst part finally being over, you calmed yourself enough to stare into his eyes, your breaths increased, yet relief flooded your countenance because now the pain was subsiding just enough for him to proceed. He thrusted slowly, his lips passionately syncing with yours as your fingers tangled with the smooth tufts of his hair- with one hand, he rested his fingertips above your clit, rubbing affectionately whilst sexing you- the building of the fire below causing your muscles to taut. How something so powerful could bring such a wondrous escape you would never be able to equate,

"Mmm," you hummed against his mouth- the sensation of the orgasm finally reaching its peak- him jolting backward, to finish pumping his spillage onto the bed sheets to then watching you unravel from the ecstasy released from your core. "Holy shit," you could barely find words- perspiration covered each of your bodies, the heat nearly stifling yet still wanting his skin upon yours lingered. He embraced you once the sensitivity dimmed- you nestled your face into the side of his neck.

"We did it," you whispered, finding it adorable how accomplished you feel, and Jimin pressed you tighter to him, his fingers running along the side of your arm- him moving to brush a gentle peck to the side of your forehead.

"We did it," he repeated, a large, contagious smile spreading across his face- a smile you had fallen in love with once upon a time. You shifted just enough to where your arms hugged behind his neck- bare chests pressed together- your leg lacing around his waist, his hand sliding to rest upon your hip. The silver pendant entered your sight, and amazement hovered,

"You still have it,"

It wasn't a question, more of a softened statement; it was the first time you mentioned it aloud, but Jimin knew exactly what you were talking about, "I never planned on taking it off," rendered speechless, you kissed him one more time, letting every piece of him whisk you away- and nothing could ruin this moment. Park Jimin was back in your arms, and nothing was ever going to take him away from you. Not again.

The fabric of your dress feels silky beneath your palms as you slide them to smooth out any wrinkles. Makeup finished as well as the curling of your hair, you are proud of the dress you chose to wear- it being your favorite color, and one you confidently feel Jimin will love just as much. For some reason, you feel anxious about seeing him tonight, though you don't know why exactly. You have known him a total of fourteen years, yet it still feels like you are seeing him for the first time with any day he is standing before you. Flicking off the lights to your bathroom and bedroom, you scurry down the stairs with your black clutch in hand, entering the living room in the direction of the front door.

"Well, someone looks extraordinarily beautiful tonight,"

"Oh! Mom! You scared me!" You gasp, chuckling when you turn to see your mom leaned against the door frame that leads into her office; her arms are crossed though she smiles at you suspiciously.

"Sorry, honey. I was on Facebook when I heard heels, so I came running,"

Lowkey a fashion guru, your mother always enjoyed seeing the gowns you would be fitted for events, and knowing you haven't had anything lined up recently, she rushed intuitively to see what her daughter is up to.

"Well, what do you think?" You twirl in place, the dress brushing your knees before hanging in place.

"What's the occasion?" Mom raises a brow, though you know she's teasing. Your mother has always been one who liked to be aware of where you are in case if something were to happen which you know that is how you would be if you had a child. Though aware of your fame and constant schedule, your mother wants to at least know you're safe, especially when you are followed most of the time in public.

"I'm... going to see Jimin tonight," you have refrained from bringing him up countless times knowing it can be a potentially uncomfortable topic for your mom, but you refuse to lie about your whereabouts for fear of something that might not be the case anymore. Distant, you notice the way she seems closed off, like something is drifting a cloud of culpability above her head. "Mom, are you okay?" Worried that something may be wrong, you question: does she not like him? Sadly, you truly have avoided any conversation revolving Jimin; even when he came back into your life, it still made the topic awkward.

Mom bites the corner of her mouth before letting out a defeated sigh, "I'll be right back." She steps into her office, and your eyebrows scrunch in obvious curiosity as to what she is doing. Waiting patiently, she makes her way to you, hand outstretched with a folded picture she gestures toward you. "I found this the other day, and I thought maybe you should have it." Your mother slightly grins against welling tears, and when you reach for the picture, you carefully open it, tears filling your own eyes at what you see.

It's a picture of you and Jimin from when the two of you were either fourteen or fifteen- taken in the evening since it was dark in the background; you figured it must have been cold because you were wearing a jean jacket while he wore his favorite gray hoodie at the time with the bolded word 'Supreme' written in the center. His arms were draped over your shoulders, and you could see the top of a Mcdonalds drink resting in his free hand. The pair of you were smiling so wide defining the happiness the two of you brought to each other on any given day.

"I remember this," you murmur, looking back at your mom, "Our families went out to eat together, and you and his mom were taking God knows how many pictures," you kid. A tear pangs your mother's cheek as she shares a smile with you.

"I remember too. It was such a great night."

"It was," staring at the photo, your heart swells, "Thank you, mom."

When you step to hug her, that's when she loses it- tears spilling down her cheeks while she holds you so close, "I'm so sorry," she sniffs, "We could have worked everything out- grounded you, supervised the two of you or, something! I shouldn't have forced you to move away."

"Mom," you plea, not wanting her to hurt because it breaks your heart to see anyone you know, and love upset. The both of you have held your feelings about the situation for seven long years and never even tried discussing it. Sometimes, talking can be the best medicine- not only do you have to think before you speak, but forgiving the person long before the two of you work things out can really help solve a problem. All one must do is listen.

"I just... I panicked! I didn't want my daughter to make a mistake. You were so young-"

"It's okay, mom, really. I understand,"

"I wanted to even force you to switch out of drama class, all because I was so scared. I didn't even want you in the play. Your father convinced me to let you perform because," she pulls away and holds your arms, wanting to look in your eyes that mirror her own, "He reminded me that we were young once too. We met at sixteen, you know that. And I just remember feeling so guilty when he told me that," your mother looks down for a moment to gather her words, "I could have lost my daughter because I believed I was doing the right thing. I should have trusted you, and I am so, so sorry for everything."

"Mom," you hug her again, "I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Oh, it's so good to know that!"

"And, mom, if we never moved back to our hometown, I wouldn't be as successful in my career as I am now. You encouraged me to go back into acting, and for that I will forever be grateful. Besides, Jimin came back. That's all that matters," your reassurance mends her heart together as she carries pride in her eyes on how far you have come in all that you have endured.

"I love you. And, if you ever need to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you know I'm here for you,"

"Even if it's about Jimin?" You giggle lightheartedly, tucking the picture of you and him in your clutch for safekeeping.

"Even if it's about Jimin." She smiles, "Now what are you still doing here? Go! Get out! Have fun, and please be safe!"

Skipping out the door, the feeling of closure overwhelms your soul, and for once, you feel as if life couldn't get any better, and now you and your mother can one hundred percent be the rock you will forever need no matter where life takes you. When the black SUV that holds your favorite driver, Stan, appears, you burst through the gate and into the back of the car, for him to hand you a small note.

Meet me on the rooftop. Your Chim Chim xo

You reread the note with a smile when you make it to an elevator upon arrival to Jimin's hotel- Stan saying to call whenever you are ready to be picked up. You're amazed how little people seemed to be roaming the hotel, and as a normal for you, you scoped your surroundings in case of any clicking cameras before stepping into what will lead you to your destination. Reaching the top floor, you find a staircase that you presume will climb you to the rooftop, so in determination you begin, trekking up the flight of stairs until you pause at a door.

Inhaling and exhaling calmly, you slowly push open the door, rounding a corner where an intriguing scenery causes you to gasp in surprise. Stringed lights glisten, covering every pole of mahogany wood that encloses the area together. Candles are blinking upon an elegant, black table for two adorned with silverware, lid-covered plates, a wine bottle, and two empty wine glasses. Flowerpots are hanging from different sections of the balcony, bringing more color to the patio; sparse trees fill the rest of the space, the atmosphere exuberating nothing but serenity. Jimin did all of this for you.

Eyes searching, you finally find him, in a black fitted suit, hands in his pockets while he stares at the starry sky. Taking the time to admire him, you have always been so in awe of how genuine he is. Treating his fans with all the love, constantly caring for his family, keeping up with his friends, and for always being there for you no matter what it takes. He listens to you the same as you do for him and being in the entertainment business where rumors spread like wildfire, sometimes a listening ear is what one needs. He has been everything you have ever wanted, and he always will be.

You clear your throat, "Well, sir, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted to spend time with me."

Whirling on a heel, his expression eases when he sees it's you, "Hey!" He beams, eyes disappearing from how big his smile spreads. "I didn't hear you come in. How long were you standing there?"

Noting how he seems embarrassed, you can't help but find it irresistibly adorable, "Not long," you promise, watching him step in your direction.

"Good, I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay, Chim. I don't even know why you're worried, silly,"

"Whoa, you really took me seriously when I said to wear something pretty," Jimin reaches for your hand while you lower your head timidly.

"Look at you! You look like a model!" Jimin throws his head back at your compliment, "And, look!" You point at his shoes, "New shoes! Look at those beautiful, new shoes!"

"I told you I was going to get new ones today!" He tries stifling his laughter in the crook of his arm before sliding your chair out for you to sit.

"And, have I ever told you how much I love the blonde hair on you? I feel like I don't tell you enough," One thing you have learned over the years of knowing Jimin, is he blushes just as easily as you do. When one compliments him, he can't help but slump in his chair before burying his forehead onto the back of his wrist.

"Why are you making this about me," he whines playfully, "I want this to be about you,"

"But, it's always about me, maybe I like to spice things up a bit to appear humbling," your eyebrows wiggle, sending Jimin in another bout of giggles.

"Speaking of spice, are you hungry?"

"Famished," you dramatically emphasize, Jimin shaking his head at you with amusement while he reaches over to lift the lid of the plate. A steaming slab of steak laying scrumptiously on a pile of rice makes your mouth water, even when your eyes trail to the seasoned vegetables beckoning you to devour them. "This looks so good," you acclaim, preparing a fork and knife in order to start slicing. Jimin has already taken a bite in agreement. Deciding to take another swoop of how beautifully the décor mingles with the design of the patio, you speak after swallowing your first mouth full of meat. "I wasn't expecting this," you say softly, looking back at Jimin who cocks a musing eyebrow.

"What did you expect? Mcdonalds?" Jimin grabs the wine bottle, succeeding in opening it before he pours each of you a glass.

"No, you brute, the patio! It's wonderful up here."

"I wanted everything to be special." He murmurs, lifting his glass after holding your eyes, "You deserve it,"

In all honesty, you are at a loss for words, because how you ever deserved a man so loving, you will never know. And amidst conversation, you briefly remember the picture your mother gave you before you left, and deciding to make this known, you wet your lips, "So, I talked to my mom earlier this evening and," you prop your elbow onto the table after gripping the memory within your fingertips, the back of the picture facing Jimin. "She gave me this, and I wanted to show it to you."

Handing it to him, he gently takes it, a reminiscent grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I remember this," he says, "my brother actually teased me because..." He trails off, his grin falling for a moment. "I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that day, but I chickened out." Your shoulders fall a bit though your heart flutters. Jimin was going to ask you to be his girlfriend? What made him afraid to? You open your mouth to speak, but when you find no words, he continues. "I had assumed that it was just going to be me and you going out that night with Jihyun, but, then both our parents ended up coming."

"That's still so sweet of you," you assure him, wanting the guilt that clouds his eyes to dissipate.

"I like this picture by the way." He holds it up and hands it back over to you. "I want a copy."

"I'll print one for you," you pact, his sincere eyes never leaving yours- all you know is if the table between you didn't exist, you'd kiss him. But as if he reads your mind, he reaches across the table and intertwines his fingers with yours; your eyes still locked preparing to say something, but the scrape of the door makes the two of you jolt and hands part. "Dessert!" A waiter lays out two white bowls in front of each of you, to then taking up the emptied dinner plates.

"Chocolate ice cream?" You say as Jimin smirks at your mouth falling open in glee.

"Our favorite," he winks, bringing a fourteen-year-old memory back in loop of the days where he loved to wear it on his face, and you never let him live it down. Chocolate syrup is drizzled over the dollops, a leaf of mint nestled on top of a scoop to complete the appetizing goal.

"I thought you said you weren't good with girls," you scoff, pressing your spoon into the dessert.

"I'm not."

"Then what is this?" you say quickly, gesturing to the dessert of symbolism.

"I think what you're trying to say is I'm romantic," He raises a brow, pointing his spoon toward you. "Besides, I think it's about time that we admitted that we are committed."

A warm sigh brushes over your cold lips, the taste of the ice cream melted on your tongue, because you know he's right. What have you really been afraid of? Was it really your mother for the fear of her still not accepting him? Well, now you know that she will accept him, so that's not an excuse. Were you afraid of the hateful words that would be thrown your way if the press were to confirm a relationship between you two? In the end, it's about you and Jimin, and despite hate, what would it matter if the world knew? Candidly, you want to protect him from the media, but your strong feelings of keeping him safe are equal to how much he wants to keep you safe.

What really scares you, more than anything, is losing him again. And, you have remained in this strange thought that if the pair of you stayed simply friends that maybe it would prevent heartbreak. Others, for example Maeve, you know would be highly confused by your thought process on the entire subject because why not be in a relationship with him when you both already seem like you are in one? What's crazy is you know Jimin loves you more than anything in this world, you can feel it, yet the pair of you have not said it since you were sixteen years old. The couple years of him returning made you fall in love with him all over again, and the truth is:

You would love to be his girlfriend. You would love to just be his forever.

Before you can respond, the subtle sound of a guitar begins to play through speakers you notice are hanging a distance behind the flowerpots. As if on cue, Jimin stands to his feet, patting his lips daintily with a crumpled napkin before tossing it on the table. "You want to dance?" He asks you, offering his hand.

"Always," he leads you to a secluded spot upon the balcony, and his arm rests behind your back. The volume of the music rises just a notch, you squeeze his shoulder once before resting your head on his chest. The side of his chin brushes your forehead while he sways you so gently, and merely getting lost in the feel of him. Your heart pounds to the rhythm of the song, and you swallow against the nerves enveloping your chest, and you let the song finish into the start of the next one, when you pull away enough to gaze into his eyes. Concern etches in his irises the second he sees you, slowly swaying to a halt. "Jimin," you breathe, fingers tightening their hold on his hand and his shoulder unintentionally, but he is ready to hear what you have to say, no matter what it may be. "Jimin, I know the past two years have not only been the most trying, but they also have been the most rewarding," you timidly drop your gaze to the silver necklace he has resting on the collar of his shirt before returning to stare at him once again, "I am in love with you, and I am ready beyond belief to let the world know it."

Nothing will ever be more magical than watching Jimin's smile grow, and the second it does, Jimin puts both hands on your waist, hoisting you in the air, spinning you around from the excitement he feels soaring all around his soul. You let out a loud laugh, linking your fingers behind his neck, your body leaning forward just a bit as your legs bend to where your heels almost reach your back. "I got you!" He laughs as you lightly lay your chin on his soft bundle of hair until he settles you back to your feet. Jimin, the one who stuck with you from the beginning and will stick with you until the end; the one who knows you more than you know yourself at times, the one you can laugh with, the one you can cry with; the one that you know will never want to lose you as long as he lives.

"I love you so much," His beautiful, brown eyes continue to bore into yours and just the pure love in them nearly brings you to tears, and in this very moment, something rings true- that if this man doesn't kiss you right now, you're going to lose it! Running your left hand through his hair, you stop at the back of his head. His wide smile turns into a grin as he leans closer to your face, resting his forehead against yours prompting your lips to part in preparation for his kiss, ready to feel the fireworks bursting in every place of your heart, ready to be wrapped so tight in his arms, ready for him to leave you breathless as he always does. Jimin then slips a hand off your waist and holds up his pinky finger to you- it catches you off guard, but it the most beautiful way.

"Promise me something, [Y/Nickname]." he nearly whispers.

"Anything, Chim,"

"Promise me that no matter what... You'll love me forever."

A tear slips down your cheek as joy overflows you, because from the first promise the two of you ever made to now, every memory you both have shared has been forever written on your heart. And you know from the look in Jimin's eyes, you both will be sharing plenty more.

"I promise, Jimin, " you say, bringing your pinky to his and wrapping it securely. "I will love you forever and always. Now... you better kiss me before I change my mind!"

Thrusting his head back in flattery, he shakes his head at you with glimmering eyes as he straightens himself to where he can cup your face with his palms. There is never a dull moment with you, and he knows a playful remark always has to be congruent within the seriousness, and when his plush, warm lips touch yours for the first time this evening, the fireworks begin, but instead of in the sky, they are literally bursting in every direction of your heart. No camera, script or film can ever describe how real this moment is. How true it feels. You both hold each other tight, feeling not only love but forever. As Jimin kisses you, sparks ignite, both your heads spinning, hearts pounding and cherishing every second, excited for the future.

Like the end of a perfect movie, you can faintly hear the beautiful song, singing the words of your promise, come to an end.

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dickspeightjrs · 4 years

Text

It’s Just a Little Crush (au / 2.2k words)

Prompt 7 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @starclaire

ao3 link

“Okay guys, we got a little time to kill before the bell so talk amongst yourselves. But keep it quiet.” Dean warns.

It’s an ordinary Tuesday morning in Dean’s home room class. He’s got a good bunch this year - a few interesting personalities for sure.

“Mr Winchester?”

Ah, speaking of interesting personalities.

“Yes, Krissy?” He looks up from the lesson plan he’d put together for his sophomore class first period. He frowns when he sees the eyes of all twenty-something kids staring back at him. “What’s going on?”

Nothing would surprise him anymore. He may have only been teaching at this particular school for a couple of years but he’d been an auto shop teacher for going on ten. He’d seen everything. And that’s why he knew having his entire home room look at him, like his kids currently were, wasn’t always a good thing.

“What’s the deal with you and Mr Novak?” She smirks.

Mr Novak, Castiel, is head of the history department. He’d started at the school about a year before Dean. He’s a little dorky and doesn’t always get people’s jokes or references but Dean knows the kids love him. He’s had many auto shop classes that begin with students telling him all about the ‘totally awesome’ history lesson they’d just had with Mr Novak.

Dean pretends not to understand the implication in Krissy’s question. “What do you mean?”

But Krissy isn’t letting it go. “It’s just that we’ve all noticed that you get into the same car with Mr Novak every day after school.” She shrugs, feigning innocence as if her words aren’t peppered with sly suggestions. “And we all know it’s your car because you never stop going on about it even though it’s old as hell and no one, except old men, drive cars like that anymore.”

Dean tries not to be offended on behalf of his baby. He wasn’t going to argue with a teenager about the merits of a well-kept classic vintage car. Not again anyway.

“It ain’t any of your business, Krissy, but Mr Novak doesn’t have a car so I drive him home.” Dean explains. “Happy?”

Krissy seems to relent, realising she’s not going to get a rise out of her teacher today.

“Nah,” comes a voice from the back row. “I reckon there’s more to it than that.”

The class shuffles around to reveal Claire Novak smirking back at the teacher. She has a mischievous look in her eyes that Dean doesn’t like. She has the rest of the students intrigued though.

Claire’s sly look only gets bigger as she begins to speak again. “I think they’re secretly dating,” she says, never taking her eyes off Dean, watching for his reaction.

Dean sighs. Where is that damn bell?

“No, Claire, me and Mr Novak are not dating,” he denies. “And you of all people should know that.”

Claire is Castiel’s niece. Her dad is Castiel’s twin brother, Jimmy. Jimmy came to school to pick Claire up once and it weirded everyone out seeing the exact replica of their favourite teacher stood right next to the man himself.

“Okay, fine,” Claire relents, “but you like him, right?”

Dean is saved from answering by the bell finally ringing.

* * *

Dean was foolish to hope that the details of the interrogation he’d received would stay in home room.

By third period, he’d heard students from each of his classes whisper as they were meant to be working. He couldn’t make out everything they were saying but he kept hearing the words ‘crush’ and ‘Mr Novak’ in the same sentence.

Crush? Dean is a grown man. He hasn’t had a crush since he met his first boyfriend when he was sixteen.

He takes a deep breath. It’ll blow over soon.

* * *

It does not blow over.

A week later and everyone is still talking about. Even some of the other teachers have been giving Dean knowing looks every time he’s sat next to Castiel in the teacher’s lounge. Though, Cas seems to remain none the wiser.

By the end of the day, Dean is glad to see his baby. He couldn’t wait to get home and be distracted from the rumours of his feelings for his fellow teacher.

As usual, Castiel joins him for the journey. Luckily, none of their students seem to be around when they get into the car.

Once they leave the school parking lot, Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He can just be himself now, and not worry about what other people are thinking.

The two men sit in silence for a few moments. Dean’s eyes are on the road ahead. Driving always calms him.

“Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Think you just did, Cas,” Dean smirks, not taking his eyes from the road.

“You’re hilarious,” Castiel replies. Dean sees him roll his eyes from the corner of his own. His smirk just gets bigger.

“I’ve been hearing some things around school recently,” Cas says, his voice changing to a more serious tone. “And, I just wanted to ask. Do you have a crush on me?”

It’s silent in the car for a few moments until Dean is the first to crack.

He lets out a loud bark of laughter. “I can’t believe you managed to say that with a straight face.” He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.

The car pulls into the driveway of a modest two-storey house. Dean cuts the engine and turns to Cas.

The other man is quietly laughing too. He looks quite amused with himself. He is honestly such a dork, Dean thinks.

But then his face turns serious again. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you have a crush on me?” He asks again.

Dean thinks for a minute, taking in the man sitting in front of him. “Do I have a crush on my best friend, and husband of thirteen years? Yeah, I guess I do.”

Dean gives Cas a teasing smile and leans across the passenger seat to bring his husband into a smiling kiss.

* * *

Later that evening, Dean and Castiel are laying together in their bed. Only a lamp on the nightstand lights the room, letting out a relaxing glow.

Castiel reaches out to let Dean cuddle up to him. Dean rests his head on Castiel’s chest. He plays with the fingers on Castiel’s left hand. Castiel lets him and goes with the movement when Dean turns his hand over to reveal the small ‘18’ tattooed on the underside of his ring finger.

They’d met on September 18th in their junior year of high school. From that day, Castiel had been Dean’s first and only crush.

Castiel and Jimmy had just transferred from their old school. It was some old-fashioned super religious school but some bad shit had gone down and the school had to close. Dean’s school had been the next best thing according to Castiel's overbearing, church-going, Jesus devotee parents.

Dean and Castiel became inseparable by the time it came for them to graduate. By then, everyone knew they were together but they didn’t care. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end for them.

For obvious reasons, Castiel’s parents were the only ones who had never found out about their relationship. Given what they thought about anyone who wasn’t straight, the boys thought it was safer to keep it from them. They didn’t know what they might try to do to Castiel if they found out.

The day after their graduation, Dean had packed up his car and they ran away. They went to college in another state and never looked back. Castiel had left his parents a note explaining everything and telling them not to try and contact him - though Castiel didn’t think they’d want to after they’d found out he was gay.

Dean’s family knew where they’d gone (they’d always been supportive of their relationship since the beginning). They welcomed Castiel into their family and treated him like their own. They’d visit the boys for the holidays and eventually, once Dean’s brother, Sam, finished high school, they all moved to be closer to their boys.

Castiel had felt guilty for years for leaving his brother but in their second year of college, Jimmy tracked Castiel down and told him he’d left too. (Turns out he’d got his high school girlfriend, Amelia, pregnant and their parents didn’t take kindly to it happening out of wedlock.)

Dean and Castiel got married while they were still in college. Most people would warn them against getting married so young but their family knew they weren’t being naive. They were it for each other.

They had a small ceremony on the anniversary of their first meeting. Sam and Jimmy had been best men and two-year-old Claire was their flower girl. (Despite what her attitude now might make you think, she was an adorable toddler who stole the show with her adorable presence.)

Over the years, they’d kept their marriage on the down low. Castiel was a little paranoid that his parents would somehow find them and try to take him away from Dean and their family. They had a lot of connections and Castiel wouldn’t put it past them to use those connections to find him.

So, when they both became teachers and ended up working at the same high school, Castiel had asked Dean if he could be called Mr Novak so as not to draw attention to them. (Same sex marriage might be legal now but it would still turn heads to have two husbands teaching at the same school, which was the kind of thing Castiel wanted to avoid.) Dean had agreed, he just wanted his husband to feel safe. They still went home together at the end of the day and that’s all that mattered to him.

But it is that exact act which has led them to where they are now.

“Dean,” Castiel speaks into his husband’s hair. “I think it’s time to tell everyone the truth.”

Dean turns to sit up properly and look at Castiel.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. I know you love and I sure as shit love you,” he reassures Cas. “Plus, it’s only your teacher name that’s still ‘Novak’. Legally, you’re a Winchester,” he smiles.

“I know, but I want to be honest with our coworkers and students too.” Castiel explains. “And maybe I want to show them that you’re not the only one with a crush,” he teases.

“Awesome.” Dean beams. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it anyways. We’ll just start wearing our rings tomorrow and they’ll figure it out.”

Castiel nods in agreement.

Dean could just burst with happiness. He’d finally be able to show Castiel off like he’s always wanted to.

Currently, his wedding ring sat against his chest on a silver chain under his shirt. Castiel keeps his safely tucked away, only taking it out for special family occasions (hence why he got the tattoo - as a more subtle and personal token of his love for Dean). Dean couldn’t wait to feel the weight of the ring on his finger every day. And knowing Castiel would be walking around with his matching one makes Dean smile like a love-sick dork.

Suddenly feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve, Dean settles down into the sheets again, eagerly awaiting sleep to take him so it could hurry up and be morning.

He’s just drifting into sleep when Castiel’s voice whispers against his ear.

“Dean?”

Dean hums, not mustering the energy to turn over and face his husband.

“Not that I’m not happy that it gave me the perspective to stop being scared, but where did the rumours of you having a crush on me come from anyway?”

Trust Cas to think of the semantics just as Dean is trying to sleep.

Dean only has one word.

“Claire.”

Castiel sighs. “I should have known. I’ll talk to her.”

Dean finally turns to look at Cas in the eyes. Green meets blue. “Don’t sweat it, babe,” he smiles. “She’s just teasing like all teenagers do. She would never actually tell anyone anything we’re not comfortable with.”

Castiel shrugs and nods his head in silent agreement.

“I’ll just get her back when we go to your brother’s for dinner on Sunday.” Dean yawns, cheekily.

Castiel rolls his eyes. The joking rivalry between Dean and their niece never seems to end.

Dean smirks and leans over to kiss Castiel. “Goodnight, Mr Winchester.”

“Good night, Dean.”

* * *

The next morning, Dean walks into his home room class and begins the regular formalities of the morning.

Claire walks in late a few minutes later. She says nothing to Dean until she sits down at her desk, puts her feet up on the table, and says in a nonchalant manner, “Nice ring, Mr Winchester.”

The rest of the class look to Dean’s hand. Sure enough there’s a silver band on his left hand that hadn’t been there the day before.

“I just saw a matching one on my uncle’s hand when I handed in my history project. Isn’t that a funny coincidence?” She smirks as the rest of the students’ mouths drop open. Dean’s known Claire long enough to know that it’s a smirk of love though.

The news of his and Castiel’s marriage (and Castiel’s new teacher name) reaches his freshman class by second period. He should have known it wouldn’t take long.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it Mae!

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover

(once again tagging my faves, let me you if you’d like to be removed from future fics - or added if you’re not already there!)

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itsamejin · 4 years

Text

this love || yoongi angst

Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol.

Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content

Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader

Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.

Commission Request: @minyoongail

Word Count: 7,681 words

—

You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.

He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.

You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.

—

April 2013

A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.

Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.

You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.

“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.

You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.

“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”

You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.

“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.

“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.

“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that!”

He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.

“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”

You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.

“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.

Suga, Suga, Suga.

You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.

—

June 2013

Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.

He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.

Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.

As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.

He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.

“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.

“Hello,” you smile up at him.

Suga.

“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”

You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.

“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”

He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?

“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”

You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.

“I’d be happy to.”

He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.

“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?

“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.

“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”

Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.

“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”

You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.

“So we’re friends?”

Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.

“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.

And you do.

—

Present

It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.

You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.

Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.

Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.

Ting.

A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.

hey, can I come over?

—

March 2014

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”

You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.

He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.

“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”

“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.

“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”

He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.

“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.

“I’d like to see you try.”

All the members groan out of annoyance.

“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”

Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.

“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”

Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.

“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.

Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.

“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”

Yoongi only smiles.

“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.

“A date?”

He nods.

“We should go out sometime.”

You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.

“We should.”

—

Present

It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.

You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.

You text back.

yeah, can't wait to see you

—

Jan. 2015

Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.

He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.

You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.

There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.

The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.

“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.

You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.

It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.

“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.

“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.

He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.

—

Present

The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...

It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.

It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?

can't wait to see u too babe

—

Aug. 2016

Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.

“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”

The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.

“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.

“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.

“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.

He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.

“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.

“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”

You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.

“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.

“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”

He gives you a glare.

“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever sugar.”

He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.

As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.

“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”

Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.

“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.

Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.

“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”

“You promise?”

He pulls away.

“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”

You were never one to forget so easily.

—

It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.

It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.

He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.

—

Dec. 2016

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.

“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”

You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.

“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”

He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.

“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”

He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.

“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”

“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”

He scoffs.

“I’m sick of you too.”

Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.

When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”

You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.

—

Present

Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.

He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.

You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.

It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.

—

May 2017

“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.

“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”

You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.

“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.

He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.

“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”

You bite down on your chopstick harshly.

“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”

Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.

“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.

“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”

Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Did he say why?”

You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.

“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”

You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.

She scoffs.

“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”

You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.

“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”

—

Sept. 2017

The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.

You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.

Trrrringggg.

The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey.”

You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.

“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.

“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.

You scoff.

“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”

He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.

“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”

You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”

He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.

“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”

—

Aug. 2018

He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.

He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.

“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.

You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.

“Me too.”

His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.

It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.

—

July 2019

Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.

Suga. Suga. Suga.

It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.

You call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

Again.

No answer.

You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.

“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.

“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.

You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.

“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”

“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”

You nod as if he could see you.

“So you’re partying?”

You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”

You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.

You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.

don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.

This time you really threw your phone at the wall.

You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.

As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.

You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.

Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.

—

Present

You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.

You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.

You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.

—

Nov. 2019

Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.

You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.

“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs. It was a simple question.

“Not in the mood.”

You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.

“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”

You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.

“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”

You suck in your cheeks.

“Ruin?”

Yoongi sighs heavily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”

You grit your teeth.

“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”

His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.

“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”

He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.

“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.

His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.

“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.

“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”

say I love you.

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”

“What’s not enough?”

You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?

“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.

“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”

“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”

Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.

“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.

You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.

“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”

He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.

It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.

—

The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.

“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”

You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”

You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.

“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”

Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.

“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.

“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.

His last words replay in your mind.

Take care.

That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.

—

Present

“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”

Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.

“Just a little runny,” you reply.

He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.

“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”

Sugar.

You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”

“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”

He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.

“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”

You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.

You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.

From Sugar.

—

A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL

I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!

508 notes · View notes

apollostears · 3 years

Text

NEEDED ME [ k. bakugo ]

anime: my hero academia

pairing: bakugo x black!fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, drugs, under the influenceness, underage drinking

plot: attending your first college party should be fun but first you have resolved friend drama to handle. or...is it more complicated than that?

note: this is a college au! where after high school, the students attend UA University before entering the hero world. this is also apart of my lil series i’m working on with bakugo and an oc that isn’t out yet but will be!

the large frat house was packed with young adults by the time the three girls had shown up. it was their first, off campus party with some local college a few miles away from them. y/n was nervous but excited and grateful to sero for scoring them access to such a stacked event.

“do you see anybody?” momo asked loudly over the bass-thumping music.

mina and y/n shook their heades, keeping their eyes peeled for any familiar faces. the party started at ten, but it was midnight when the girls showed up. mina claimed that it helped draw attention to them, which isn’t what the other two wanted.

however, y/n had to admit that mina wasn’t a liar. most people had started to bring their attention to them as they moved through the crowd to a more spacious area. she spotted todoroki’s two-toned hair somewhere in the crowd and the closer she got to him, the better she was able to identify where he was.

“i see todoroki in the kitchen. maybe he’s with the others.” she announced over her shoulder, continuing to head his way.

sure enough, there was todoroki with midoriya, ochaco, tsu, and tokoyami. “heyyyy guys! you finally made it!” ochaco greeted the three girls, wasting no time in pulling them into a hug.

y/n noted how she already smelt a bit like alcohol, not too much but enough to make her tipsy. she was a bit surprised to smell it on the preppy girl but figured ochaco would end up trying it sometime in their college career.

“eekkk you guys look sooo cute!! i can’t believe you managed to get tokoyami and todoroki out here. have you seen anyone else from our class?” mina asked, maneuvering her way through the kitchen to get some drinks for her friends.

y/n went to stand by todoroki, squeezing her way into his corner as she waited for her drink from mina. the kitchen wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the house but there was still a good amount of people in there. while her friends talked, she wondered if bakugo was there. he had been acting weird since they last spoke, when they argued over her ‘relationship’ with shindo.

she couldn’t tell if he was mad at her for blowing him off to spend time with the boy in her class but if he was, she didn’t understand why. bakugo used to blow her off all the time whenever kirishima or the boys wanted to hang. sure, it sucked at first but she didn’t make a big deal about it.

this whole situation was so weird to her and she wanted it to be over with.

“so, are you and bakugo still not talking to each other?” todoroki asked, starting his own private conversation with the girl next to him.

y/n paused in her response, grabbing the drink from mina and taking a sip before speaking. “uh yeah, i guess we still aren’t on the best of terms.”

“and it’s bothering you?”

“well yeah. bakugo’s like my bestest friend and if he isn’t talking to me then i don’t know what the fuck to do.”

the others had filtered out of the kitchen, choosing to either go search for their friends or mingle with new people. y/n felt a headache coming from stressing over her situation with bakugo and from the loud music ringing in her ears.

“maybe you should talk to him. he’s been staring at you for the past five minutes now and honestly, it’s a little creepy.” todoroki advised, motioning his head to the area across from them.

sure enough, bakugo was standing by the wall in the living room. drink in hand and an intense glare on her, one that didn’t seem to be breaking any time soon.

rolling her eyes at his stalkerish behavior, she thanked todoroki for his advice and made her way through the crowd to him.

“so what? you was just gonna stare at me the whole night?” y/n asked, cutting straight to the point when she stopped in front of the boy.

bakugo sucked his teeth before drinking from his red cup. “saw you talking to icy hot. didn’t wanna interupt anything.” he muttered, suddenly looking anywhere but at her.

“please, like that has ever stopped you before. i don’t like this katsuki.” she said, giving him an annoyed look to get her point across.

wordlessly, bakugo pushes off the wall and grabs y/n by the forearm. “lets go outside.” he said softly, leaning close to speak in her ear.

she nodded, following him outside of the busy house and onto the front lawn. there were frat guys kegging, trash loitered about, and some kids running through a makeshift slip n’ slide drunk off their asses.

“why are you upset with me suki?” y/n questioned as soon as bakugo had let her go and stopped walking.

bakugo sighed and finished the rest of his drink, crumbling up the cup with little effort, tossing it in one of the trash bags laying around. y/n assumed it was the fraternity’s attempt in trying to encourage trash cleanup by the partygoers.

“this shindo kid...i don’t like him for you.” he spoke seriously, looking y/n right in the eye to convey his sincerity.

y/n raised an eyebrow inquisitively, finding it difficult to believe that that was his reason for acting like such an asshole the past few days. “are you serious?”

bakugo’s sincere look quickly turned into one of irritation at y/n’s lack of trust in his words. “i didn’t fucking stutter.” he bit.

“you don’t even fuckin know him! we’re literally just work partners, i don’t understand where all this hostility is coming from. it’s fuckin ridiculous katsuki.”

bakugo let out something akin to a growl as he aggressively kicked at some trash before him in an attempt to let out some aggresion. “he looks at you like you’re an easy fuck! and you’re walking around without a care in the fucking world while he plots to make a move!”

y/n stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, shock was written all over her face. everything bakugo was saying kept sounding more and more out of pocket. “is you smokin dick or something? shindo and i are. friends!!! get that through your head because the way you’ve been acting towards me these past few days has been completely out of character! like what the fuck?!”

“you don’t get it do you? you’re so goddamn dumb that you really don’t see it. he doesn’t want you y/n! he wants your body and i’m trying to save your dumbass from making a mistake!” bakugo argued, his hands beginning to sweat nitroglycerin the hyper he got.

y/n laughed dryly, amused at bakugo’s ability to act like he knew what was best for everybody and that all his friends needed him, whether they knew it or not. “see. that’s it! right there! that’s the shit i be talking about. you talk like you got a fuckin god complex! like we need you to protect us. well guess what bakugo, i don’t need you. i don’t need you to tell me what to do. i don’t need you policing who i can and can’t be friends with. i don’t need you acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re supposed to be my friend!”

y/n’s tone of voice garnered some looks from the people around them but she didn’t care. she was fed up with bakugo’s overprotective nature. it was fine in high school because she figured it would pass once they got to college, but it’s clear now that he’ll always see her as something he has to protect. and that wasn’t how she wanted to live her life.

for a moment, bakugo looked hurt. defeat in the air and a certain sadness in his eyes, it made y/n realize her mistake but it was too late. the damage was done.

“you’re right, i’m not your boyfriend but i’m not your friend either.” his voice was low and calm but even y/n could tell that he was genuinely hurt by what she said.

“shit katsuki, i’m sorry—”

“don’t. don’t call me that. you’ve lost that right.” bakugo had cut the girl off coldly, an icy glare masking the true pain that he felt in that moment.

i mean...how else are you supposed to feel walking away from the love of your life?

unable to come up with anything meaningful, y/n just watched as her best friend walked away from her and out of her life. i do need him. maybe more than he needs me.

❧ join our taglist: @simplyskz-maya @pimpnameyannie @supop @exomama-random @sunrayyellowhalo @knjkitten @namjoonswifeyy @sweeneyblue1

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eurydicees · 3 years

Text

true enough to be convincing, unruly enough to be real

summary: tamaki needs someone to date, just for a week. it’s not a big deal, it isn’t. kyoya can pretend to be in love with tamaki for a few days. what could go wrong? the classic tale of boys fake date, boy wears other boy’s jacket, said boy is suddenly maybe not faking it so much as actually falling in love.

prompts: 3 + 28: fake dating + wearing the other’s clothes. for @wishiwasntstillhere ! i hope you enjoy :)

pairings: tamaki suoh/kyoya ootori

words: 3,441

warnings: none

“We have to be convincing,” Tamaki says, waving an arm vaguely in Kyoya’s direction. He has a tendency to talk with his hands, every other word emphasized by a wave or a clap or a clench of his fists. “We have to go all out.”

Kyoya closes his eyes, leaning against the headboard of Tamaki’s bed. They’re in Tamaki’s bedroom in the second Suoh mansion; Tamaki pacing in circles and the long-suffering Kyoya only half following what he’s saying. He’s still stuck on Tamaki’s words from five minutes ago: we should date. Oh, no, no— not for real, I mean— just pretend, for a bit. We should fake date, just for a week or so.

“Stop,” Kyoya says, squeezing his eyes tighter shut. Judging by the lack of creaking of the floorboards, Tamaki has stopped pacing and is staring at him. “Why do we need to do this?”

Tamaki sighs, and Kyoya looks over at him as Tamaki moves to sit on the bed. The mattress dips as he sits down, his hands going to rest on Kyoya’s ankles. “I kind of… Look, okay, there was this girl and she was asking me out and she was, like, so earnest about it, and I wanted to let her down easy, so—”

“So you told her we were dating?” Kyoya asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest and most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

Tamaki groans, pushing Kyoya’s ankles away from him. “I didn’t say it was you specifically, I just said that I was dating someone.”

“Then why are you asking me?” Kyoya licks his lips, studying Tamaki closely. There’s no reason that it has to be Kyoya that Tamaki is fake dating. “Literally anyone else would be better for this.”

Tamaki shrugs. “You’re the best liar I know, and…”

“And?”

“And I trust you,” Tamaki says, more in a breath than in words. He shifts, now sitting cross legged on the bed, pressing his hands against his knees. “You’re the only one I could pull this off with.”

“Not Haruhi?”

Tamaki shrugs. “I already asked her, and she laughed in my face.”

Something in Kyoya’s stomach drops at that, and he doesn’t know what it is, or why it bothers him, but there’s a sinking disappointment in his stomach that itches like a word on the tip of his tongue. It shouldn’t matter; Kyoya doesn’t even want to do this. He should be laughing just as Haruhi had apparently done, when Tamaki asked her first.

“Right,” Kyoya chokes out. He shouldn’t be so affected by that. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about any of this. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tamaki breaks out in a grin. “Thank you, mon ami. I owe you one—”

“You owe me everything,” Kyoya mutters. He inhales deeply. “What do you need specifically?”

“I don’t know,” Tamaki admits. He drops his hands to his ankles, swaying forwards and backwards as he looks at Kyoya. He’s never been one for sitting still. “Just… what people in relationships do.”

Kyoya narrows his eyes. “Tamaki. Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

There’s a pause. Then, “You know the answer to that question.”

Kyoya does know the answer to that one— no, neither of them have been in a relationship. Great, Kyoya thinks somewhat bitterly, his first relationship is going to be both fake and with Tamaki. He should be angry about that, but there’s a kind of swirl of confusion in his head instead, and he hates it.

“Well,” Kyoya says, sighing. He leans his head against the wall, the edge of the headboard digging into his shoulder blades. “Things people do in relationships. They’re around each other all of the time, they make each other laugh, they… touch.”

“Right,” Tamaki agrees. He’s still swaying, and Kyoya is finding the sound of shifting of fabric incredibly distracting. “They kiss.”

Kyoya swallows. He can feel the tips of his ears heating up. “We’re not kissing.”

“Please?”

“No,” Kyoya says firmly. “We have to have some boundaries, at least.”

Tamaki sighs, but then brushes it off with a shrug. “I guess that’s fair. Can we at least… kiss each other on the cheek?”

“If you insist.”

Kyoya finally meets Tamaki’s gaze, searching for some kind of joke resting in his eyes, some kind of laughter. But there’s nothing. Tamaki is deadly serious about all of this, and Kyoya can’t figure out how to feel about it.

He hates it, he wants to hate it, this is a ridiculous scheme, and it’s going to crash and burn around them, and for some reason, he wants to try anyway. It’s just like it was with the host club, Tamaki says an idea and Kyoya can’t help but fall in line, just another captivated Ouran student following Tamaki, Kyoya’s own personal pied piper.

“Thank you for this,” Tamaki says again, and Kyoya just nods numbly. “It’ll only be for a week and then you can publicly dump me, if you want.”

“I wouldn’t do it publicly.” Kyoya says it absentmindedly, not really thinking about what he’s saying, but then his brain kicks in again, and he’s suddenly thinking about this ending. What are they going to do when it’s over? It’s just a fake relationship, but there are careful, tight lines in their friendship, and Kyoya has just agreed to cross all of them.

He thinks back to what he had told Haruhi only a few weeks ago, that his friendship with Tamaki is based entirely on self interest. It’s not true, and everyone around them knows it. It’s just that they genuinely like being around each other; but Kyoya will turn over in his grave before he ever says that out loud. Even if they genuinely like each other, there are still lines.

Then again, Kyoya draws careful lines in the sand with everyone he meets and interacts with. Lines between acquaintance and ally. Between business partner and friend. Between friend and family. Between friend and lover. Within those lines, too, there are promises that Kyoya makes to himself— you can never let a hand linger too long, or your gaze hover on someone for even seconds past friendly, or your thoughts center around one idea for too long.

All of those rules go out of the window when he’s around Tamaki.

When he leaves the Suoh manion and heads home, Kyoya can’t tear his thoughts away from Tamaki. He can’t stop thinking about this plan, about this ridiculous secret that they’re both now holding. Tamaki had seen him off at the door, kissing his cheek, like any good boyfriend would do, Kyoya, and Kyoya can still feel the warmth of Tamaki’s lips against his cheek. It’s the cold, Kyoya tells himself, and not a blush that lingers on his cheeks long after he’s left the Suoh property.

He tries to shove the whole plan out of his head that night. He has to, just to be able to sleep at night, just to be able to stop thinking about Tamaki. He doesn’t think he’s felt this obsessive since he first met Tamaki and drove himself crazy trying to fulfill his every whim as they traveled around Japan.

It’s not until the next morning, finding himself in a shopping center with the Hitachiin twins, that he realizes that fake dating Tamaki means that everyone around them thinks they suddenly get to judge their… relationship.

Kyoya didn’t know what he expected, knowing them. He didn’t know why he thought for even a second that they wouldn’t care— it’s not necessarily judgement that he’s suddenly faced with, but it’s definitely a conversation he hadn’t meant to start, and didn’t particularly want to finish.

He meets the others at the front door of the shopping center, finding that he’s the last one there. Hikaru and Kaoru both wave at him as he approaches, and Kyoya is about to wave back when he catches Tamaki’s eye. Tamaki is smiling, but there’s a knowing glint in his eye that Kyoya doesn’t really know what to think of. Is there a word for the kind of glow that’s hovering at Tamaki’s cheeks right now? Is there a word for the way that Kyoya’s heart is suddenly falling to pieces?

He’s about to say hello, just treating everything as normal, and then Tamaki skips forward and kisses him on the cheek. It’s soft, the kind of touch that’s barely there, but it makes Kyoya shiver. Tamaki’s breath is warm on Kyoya’s skin.

It’s not an act when his cheeks heat up and the tiniest of smiles finds its unwilling way to his lips. It’s not an act when his heart pulses; a green light asking for more. He wants to smile fully, bravely— and then he remembers.

He remembers that this isn’t real, and Tamaki is feeling nothing. Kyoya swallows, steeling himself, and pushes his glasses farther up his nose. He’s not feeling anything either.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” Tamaki says, and it’s with the kind of grin that makes Kyoya burn with a fake romance.

Kyoya finally tears his eyes away from Tamaki and towards the other two who are waiting for them; Hikaru is staring with wide eyes, while Kaoru has a kind of unimpressed look in the tilt of his chin.

“Did you finally sort yourselves out, then?” Kaoru asks. “Are you dating yet?”

Kyoya stares. “I—”

“Yup!” Tamaki grins, then slides his hand down Kyoya’s arm to tangle their fingers together. His palm is sweaty as Tamaki squeezes his hand. “It’s new, though.”

“Finally,” Kaoru says with half a laugh. “Haruhi and I had a bet on how long it would take. Oh, she’s gonna be in debt forever.”

Tamaki rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling as he leads the way into the shopping center. He doesn’t let go of Kyoya’s hand the entire time. Kyoya is pretty sure that his heart is pulsing in his wrist, dripping down into his palm; he’s pretty sure that Tamaki is holding Kyoya’s entire soul right now, and he doesn’t know.

“This is going to be easier than I thought,” Tamaki whispers, leaning closer to Kyoya, his lips hovering by Kyoya’s ear. “They’re falling for it so easily.”

Kyoya can only nod. This is going too far and too fast— or, it’s barely going at all, except for the fact that Kyoya’s mind is jumping light years ahead of we’re just pretending and right to this is getting all too real.

“So,” Hikaru starts, keeping pace next to Kyoya, who is still holding Tamaki’s hand like a life line. “When did this happen?”

Kyoya swallows, glancing over at Tamaki. They should have gotten their story straight before they had gone out into the world holding hands. He can so easily imagine Tamaki turning to Kaoru, who walks beside him, and saying that they’ve been dating for years, all while Kyoya tells Hikaru that it’s been hours.

“A few days ago,” Kyoya manages to say. He says it smoothly, somehow, his tongue so practiced at smoothing over all the bumps and inconsistencies in his lies. “Like Tamaki said. It’s new.”

Hikaru shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, glancing at Kyoya from the corner of his eye. “So you haven’t been pretending you’re not together for years now? Because that was my bet and—”

“Shut up,” Kyoya says, rolling his eyes. He looks away from Hikaru and towards the crowded walkways that they’re entering. “We were just friends, until recently. That’s the truth.”

“Sure,” Hikaru says, grinning.

It’s a subdued, or doubtful, grin, but Kyoya doesn’t get the chance to ask before Hikaru is bounding forwards, pointing towards the food court. Tamaki agrees enthusiastically, and the four of them make their way there. Tamaki never lets go of Kyoya’s hand— that much is real.

They order food quickly, not bothering to think too hard about it. This is, as Tamaki put it, just a fun day out, pretending to be commoners. Kyoya, though, knows what it’s really about— it’s a test run of their fake relationship, to see how well they can fit themselves into the world and into their little friend group. It’s a test run to see if they can really pull this off; they have one of the more observant people they know and one of the more gullible people they know, and that’s a good range. Kyoya, if he weren’t so distracted by Tamaki’s hand resting on his knee, would almost admire the plan.

He’s so distracted by the fact that Tamaki is tapping his fingers against Kyoya’s leg that he doesn’t notice when Tamaki waves a hand just the slightest bit too enthusiastically, sending an uncapped bottle of soda flying across the table. It spills open and out, right onto Tamaki’s shirt.

Four people spew a string of curses as Tamaki jumps up, knocking over his tray with the half eaten hamburger on it, sending that spilling over onto the table, too. Kyoya grabs the soda bottle before it can do more damage, but it’s too late. Tamaki’s shirt is soaking wet, and while he grabs the thinnest of napkins to try and dry it, it’s a fruitless effort. Hikaru is just laughing, while Kaoru tries helplessly to hand over more napkins.

Tamaki swears again, tossing the napkins onto the table. He sits down with a humph and sighs. Kyoya, so quickly that he’s almost unaware of it, finds himself sliding an arm around Tamaki’s shoulders— this is what a boyfriend would do, right? Hold Tamaki when he’s upset? Kyoya thinks he’s guessed right, because Tamaki leans into his touch, burying his face in Kyoya’s shoulder.

“My shirt’s soaking wet,” Tamaki moans.

The vibrations of his words against Kyoya’s collarbones make him shiver, and he sighs. “You should be more careful.”

Tamaki sits up again, slowly, but doesn’t fully pull away. Instead he rests his cheek against Kyoya’s shoulder, eyes closed. Across from them, Kaoru is grinning.

“Cute,” he says, and Kyoya glares at him. It doesn’t deter him at all, and Kyoya just finds his face muscles growing tighter and Kaoru’s smile growing wider.

“Shut up,” Kyoya mutters.

It’s all a part of Tamaki’s game, though, and so Kyoya can’t find it in himself to be mad. If Kaoru thinks they’re cute, then they’re pulling this off well. That’s the important thing; not this stupid fluttering in his heart everytime Tamaki’s hand gets close to Kyoya’s knee. Kyoya swallows down any reservations, only to turn his head and press a light kiss to the top of Tamaki’s head. It’s tender and private and it comes so naturally that, for a moment, Kyoya forgot it was a performance.

Tamaki doesn’t react to the kiss at all, except for the tiniest of smiles.

“Cute,” Hikaru says, in an exact, smiling imitation of how Kaoru had done it. Kyoya hates them both.

Lucky for him, though, no one at that table has a good attention span, and so none of them focus on that kiss for too long. Instead, Kaoru points out one of the department stores that he had wanted to check out while they were there, and the four of them disentangle themselves from the mess, throw away their napkins and half eaten food, and start to leave the food court.

“People are staring,” Tamaki complains. He’s walking next to Kyoya, so close that their shoulders brush every now and then, Tamaki leaning into every touch. Hikaru and Kaoru walk in front of them.

“It’s because you’re covered in soda,” Kyoya says. He thinks that it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to say, but that just makes Tamaki pout more.

“I know.” Tamaki sighs, crossing his arms tightly around his chest. It does nothing to cover up the stain.

Kyoya looks over, scanning the disappointment on Tamaki’s face and the hunched over way he’s carrying himself, and then sighs. “Here. Take my jacket. If you zip it up, no one will be able to see anything.”

“Are you sure?” Tamaki asks. He says it slowly, but he’s already brightening up. “You won’t be cold?”

Kyoya shrugs. “It’s May. I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Tamaki says, grinning.

Kyoya sighs, but it’s not a tired sigh— it’s an exasperated, happy sigh that only a lover can make. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it up for Tamaki to put on. Once it’s on, Tamaki turns to face Kyoya, his smile like a wound in Kyoya’s composure, and puts his hands to his waist.

“How do I look?” he asks.

“Fine,” Kyoya says, rolling his eyes. “The whole point is to zip up the jacket, Tamaki.”

Tamaki laughs at that, unbothered by the tone of his voice. He zips up the jacket and then poses again, hands on his hips, smiling. “Now?”

“Good,” Kyoya says. He looks more than good, but Kyoya will be damned before he says that out loud. Fake, fake, fake, he chants to himself. “Let’s catch up to Hikaru and Kaoru, I think they already went inside.”

Tamaki nods. He starts walking forward, and then pauses to look at Kyoya. He puts his hand up in the air between them, and Kyoya feels a boiling smile working its way through his chest when he takes Tamaki’s hand.

The four of them spend the rest of the day like that, wandering through the shopping center, making their way through every department store and every chain store and every miscellaneous merchandise stand. Somehow, the day passes quickly. Kyoya had expected it to drag on, to be painful to spend so much time somewhere like a mall, but by the time that they start leaving, he finds that he had actually had fun.

They part ways at the front of the shopping center, where Hikaru and Kaoru go off to Parking Lot A. Kyoya and Tamaki walk together to Parking Lot C, Tamaki swinging their interlocked hands in the air between them.

“This was fun, don’t you think?” Tamaki asks, smiling at Kyoya.

“It was,” Kyoya admits.

They’re still holding hands, though no one is around them, and Kyoya can’t help but hope that Tamaki doesn’t notice that there’s no reason to pretend anymore. He can’t help but hope that Tamaki keeps holding his hand. It’s a deep, selfish desire that Kyoya cannot say out loud.

“This is my car,” Tamaki says, stopping in his tracks. Still, he doesn’t let go of Kyoya. “Hey— thank you. For today.”

Kyoya frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Pretending,” Tamaki tells him, as if it’s supposed to be obvious. Now that he says it, Kyoya feels sick with how unobvious that had been to him. “I know we agreed last night, but I didn’t really think you would. Thank you.”

Kyoya swallows. Tamaki hadn’t expected anything of him. Looking back over the day, Kyoya is suddenly wondering how much of what he had done had just been because he wanted to. Did he— did he want to kiss Tamaki so tenderly when his head was resting against Kyoya’s shoulder? Did he want to hold Tamaki’s hand? Did he—

“Yeah,” Kyoya says carefully. He can’t afford to break face now. “Anytime.”

Tamaki nods, smiling. It’s a bright smile, but something about it is different from the ones he had been giving Kyoya earlier. He lets go of Kyoya’s hand, patting the pockets of his pants until he finds his keys. “I promise you can break up with me in a few days.”

“I look forward to it,” Kyoya chokes out. He takes a deep breath, then moves a few steps backwards. “I’ll see you at school.”

Tamaki finds his keys and gives Kyoya a wave as he unlocks his car. Kyoya has only just turned and begun to walk away when Tamaki calls out his name again— Kyoya’s heart jumps onto his tongue, stupidly quickly, enough to make him almost say, I love you, even though he’s not really sure if it’s true yet.

“Kyoya!” Tamaki calls again, and Kyoya turns back to him. “Your jacket!”

Tamaki has unzipped the jacket, and the wet stain on his shirt has since dried off. Kyoya’s jacket hangs tightly against his shoulders, though they’re probably about the same size, and the black fabric is a dark shadow against Tamaki’s pale skin. Even in the concrete limelight of the parking lot, he looks radiant.

“Keep it,” Kyoya says, and Tamaki frowns, as if he can’t hear. “Keep it! It— it looks good on you.”

Tamaki grins, and he blows a kiss towards Kyoya. It makes Kyoya glow, deep inside, and that’s not something he can fake.

Oh, he’s so screwed.

#my writing #tamakyo #ohshc #ohshc fanfiction #tamakyo fanfic #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #ohshc fanfic #ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club fanfic

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years

Text

Marko - NSFW Headcanons

Masterlist

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word Count: 800

Notes: Look at you, getting two fics in one day! I’ve literally had this sitting in my drafts half-finished for like three weeks now, so I figured I’d finish it up and release it since you guys have been so patient with me this past week! (And I have a ton of free time to write now…)

I’ve never been very good with NSFW writing in general–story-heavy writing and fluff are more my niches–but a headcanon list is easier to write than a full-on smut scene, so I figured I’d give it a go; plus I wanted to write something just for Marko. 🥺❤️

Warnings: NSFW! (duh lol)

Literally the king of foreplay; like seriously this boy cannot get enough of it.

Marko is a huge tease, so foreplay is an absolute must before sex with him. Likes to see how many times he can get you off before he’s ready to go, and he enjoys looking into your eyes whenever you cum.

He’ll literally keep track of his “record” of how many times he’s gotten you off before sex, and tries to break it every time you two are together.

Occasionally gets so caught up in beating said record because he’s a competitive little shit he’ll start to overstimulate you before you’ve even started having sex and you have to beg him to just fuck you already.

He loves going down on you. Like more than any of the other boys Marko is always the first with his head between your legs.

Likes receiving oral of course but not as much as he likes giving. Definitely isn’t complaining when you want to go down on him though.

He loves it when you run your hands through his curls while he eats you out. In general just loves it when you have your hands in his hair during sex.

He likes to draw things out; enjoying watching your face as you writhe around, searching for release. He holds out until he’s sufficiently satisfied his need to tease you.

Putting aside his other reasons, Marko is just genuinely a soft boy, and hates the idea that sex might not be enjoyable for you, or worse that it might hurt you, so even when he is in the mood to just jump straight in he never skimps on the foreplay because he wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself and that you’re ready for him when he finally does get down to business.

Marko has a lot of energy, and there’s no place he’d rather use it than in bed. So once he’s gotten started, he doesn’t stop.

Likes to move you around a lot; you’re switching positions often.

He’s grabbing anything he can get his hands on, and kisses any bit of bare skin his mouth can reach. What the means varies depending on what position you’re in at that moment, but the boy gets handsy during sex.

His pace is fast; again, he’s got a lot of energy and he’s willing to use it.

Will continue to joke around and tease you while you’re having sex. There is no off switch. Sex with Marko is fun, and a serious workout. It’s also amazing.

Sometimes it’s frustrating just how much he teases you, but if he ever takes things too far he makes up for it by how good he makes you feel.

If you’re still human, he’ll 100% be into drinking from you while you’re doing it. He thinks it’s incredibly hot. He would never do it without permission of course, but if you’re willing he’ll sometimes lean in and take a bite from your neck while the two of you are still going at it.

Aftercare is a big thing for him.

Again, he wants you to be as comfortable as possible. He’ll help clean you up as best as he can; grabbing his discarded shirt or using the sheet if he can’t find anything else.

He loves to cuddle with you afterwards, planting little kisses on your neck and face. This is about the only time he won’t be teasing you. Typically he just wants to be sweet; telling you he loves you and praising you.

If he can he’ll spend the night with you; just laying together, talking and joking, enjoying each other’s company.

If you did it at your place he’ll stay even after you’ve fallen asleep, holding you in his arms until it gets too early and he has no choice but to leave before the sun comes up.

If you’re staying in the cave, he’ll spend the night with you, his face snuggled into your hair so he can smell your scent while he sleeps.

If you wake up together you are 100% having sex again. He’s a teenage boy; morning wood is a thing and he’s had your body next to him all night.

Morning sex is usually more lazy and relaxed; you’re both still groggy from sleeping and like to take things slow.

Though it doesn’t take him too long to wake up once you get started, so if he doesn’t finish fast he’ll soon pick up the pace on you and you’ll be left trying to keep up with him again.

Really likes getting a morning drink from you, if you’ll let him.

Again, big on aftercare, and will snuggle in bed with you all morning until you start getting hungry or the other boys (Paul) get annoyed waiting for you two to get up and come to bug you.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys imagine #marko the lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987

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autumnscribbles · 3 years

Text

LA Nights | b.s

requested by anon tysm

summary: brad gets jealous when y/n and calum appear to be flirting at a party

words: 1.3k

warnings: none really? drinking, if that counts?

a/n: finally back!!!! i’ve missed writing, feel free to send requests for anyone i have in my pinned post (or ask for others and i may do it!) i figured since it’s calum’s birthday i’d do the one with him hehe, hope you enjoy!! also i love this trope sm lol so had a lotta fun writing this

“Ready?” Brad asked as he held the door of the uber open for you, reaching his hand out to help you since you were wearing heels, which you honestly didn’t do often.

“I guess so,” you chuckled, pulling down your dress slightly and smoothing out the front.

Ever since dating Brad, parties made you more nervous than they had before. Now, instead of drunk college students, parties were full of famous and well known people, attractive people, important people. You felt like none of those things.

Usually, at parties like this one, you tried to blend in as much as possible. You either stood against a wall somewhere, or clung to Brad’s arm, following him wherever he went. You mostly avoided initiating conversation with anyone, even if it was someone you recognized.

Brad gave you a comforting kiss on the temple, leading you into the massive house where the party was being held. You already forgot who the host was, but it didn’t matter that much.

“Drinks?” Brad asked the second you both stepped through the door, music already blaring.

“Absolutely,” you laughed, needing the liquid courage to get through the night.

You both got drinks from the bar, sipping faster than you should have, eager to feel the buzz quickly to feel less awkward and nervous.

“Are the boys here?” you asked him, referencing to the rest of the boys, who were supposed to make an appearance tonight too.

“Not yet,” Brad answered, having to talk right in your ear so you could hear him. “They should be here soon.”

You nodded happily, excited to have 3 more people here that you knew and felt comfortable around. You glanced around the area you were standing in, recognizing a lot of people. It still felt weird to you that you could go to a party and casually see people you otherwise would probably never meet.

“Care to dance?” Brad asked.

You obliged, getting another drink quickly before walking out to the makeshift dance floor. Brad’s hands found your hips immediately, both of you swaying together. The song changed to a slow song, and you both gave each other a knowing look, eyebrows raised.

“Fast dance to a slow song?” he asked, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Fast dance to a slow song.” you confirmed.

You both broke out into your silliest dance moves, even doing a small dance sequenced the both of you choreographed together at 3am in the kitchen while waiting for frozen pizza to cook. You laughed loudly, not caring that people were watching the two of you look completely ridiculous.

You were both out of breath by the time the song ended, and the alcohol was finally kicking in. This, of course, meant you already needed to pee.

“I have to pee,” you told Brad, laughing for no reason because alcohol made you giggly most of the time.

“Want me to come with you to find a bathroom?” he asked.

“It’s okay,” you answered, shaking your head. “The boys should be here soon, wait for them and I’ll find you.”

You weaved your way through the mass of people dancing, keeping your head down to avoid drawing attention to yourself. A house this big must have multiple bathrooms, you thought, you were bound to come across one of them eventually.

You made a guess that there would be one upstairs, and it would be much quieter, so you went up the stairs, opening doors to find which one was the bathroom.

You finally found it, surprised no one was already waiting. After doing your business, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You smoothed out your hair that had gone a bit crazy from the dancing, and wiped some smudged mascara from under your eye. Once you decided you looked more presentable, you made your way back downstairs to find Brad.

At the bottom of the stairs, you collided into someone. You shouldn’t have been surprised seeing as you always walked with your head down, but you still jumped back nonetheless.

Standing in front of you was Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer. You liked their music, and had seen the band a few times but of course never spoke to them.

“Sorry,” he told you, hand on your shoulder to stabilize you. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s all good,” you smiled, waving it off trying to act like you were talking to just anyone.

After an awkward pause, you stumbled over your words, trying to move out of the way to let him go up the stairs.

“Your cup’s empty,” he noted. “I was just going for a top off, care to join?”

“Sure,” you nodded. You needed a drink anyway, and after you would go find Brad, and hopefully the other boys as well.

As you walked to the bar, you had casual conversation with Calum, not bringing up the fact that you knew him or enjoyed his music.

After getting your drinks, you and Calum continued talking. It was rude to just walk away, and you assumed someone would come up to him eventually and steer him away from you.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said to you after chit chatting for a little while.

“Oh, yeah, Y/n,” you answered.

“Pretty name, I’m Calum,” he replied.

“I really like your dress, y/n” he added, his eyes scanning your body, making you blush slightly.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “It’s really not much.”

You thanked the alcohol for not making you completely awkward, and you weren’t drunk enough where you couldn’t have a conversation.

“Well, I think it is,” he smirked.

Was he flirting? Calum Hood, flirting with just a regular, average girl?

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing at a party all by yourself?” he asked. What a classic line.

“She’s not,” a familiar voice said from beside you. You jumped, seeing Brad standing there, his eyebrows furrowed together as he watched the exchange

“Babe,” you smiled, reaching for him.

“Calum, this is Brad,” you smiled. “My boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Calum stumbled. “Yeah, hi, good to see you again.”

“Yeah. You too,” Brad said coldly.

You gave him a look, signalling non verbally for him to be nicer. He seemed to understand, and was often good at being nice even when he didn’t want to be.

“Are the other boys here?” Brad asked Calum, smiling brightly. You knew this was his way of asking “don’t you have other people here you could be talking to?”

“Uh, yeah, they are,” Calum smiled. “I was on my way to them when I ran into y/n.”

“Isn’t that lovely,” Brad grinned.

“Connor, James and Tris are here,” Brad said to you, keeping his tone even. “They’re excited to see you, so I came to find you.”

“Oh, great!” you said excitedly. “I’ll see you around, Calum, nice meeting you.”

“You too,” he smiled kindly, and with that you were off.

“Is he serious?” Brad mumbled once you were out of earshot.

“What?” you asked. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Y/n, he was hitting on you, very obviously might I add,” he commented.

“Well he didn’t know I was with you, it’s okay,” you said, trying to calm him down. “I can handle myself, you know I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Brad sighed. “He didn’t tough you, did he?”

“No, baby,” you assured him. “And I would have stopped it if he did.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You know how I get sometimes.”

“I know,” you gigged. “But you also know you’re the only one for me, no matter who tries to talk to me at a dumb LA party.”

“I love you,” he smiled.

“I love you too,” you grinned, planting a kiss to his lips, hands cupping his face.

“Now, let’s dance with the boys!!”

#brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson x reader #brad simpson imagines #the vamps #the vamps imagine #the vamps imagines #tristan evans #james mcvey #connor ball #calum hood #calum hood imagine #5sos #5 seconds of summer #imagine #fanfic

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caspianjames · 3 years

Note

Willex 🗺🌻 and romantic♡

“I really, really think we’re lost,” Alex said, dropping his body to sit on the big field they were in. The big, open, empty field they were in because Willie had insane ideas and for some reason Alex thought it was smart to go along with them.

“It’s part of the adventure,” Willie said. They quirked a smile that Alex couldn’t help but smile back at, even through the anxious beat of his heart in his throat. He hated it - being out of control, not knowing with certainty what was happening around him - and being lost definitely counted as not knowing what was going on.

Willie sat down beside Alex, spreading out the map he’d been holding and bending over it. “I’ll admit,” Willie said without looking up, “That Pennsylvania has changed since I’ve last been here.”

“When was the last time you were here, again?” Alex asked, trying to keep any bite out of his voice. He wasn’t upset that they were lost, really. Not at Willie, anyways. He was just anxious. Which was stupid because-

“We can poof back home if you want,” Willie said, instead of answering Alex’s question. Willie didn’t always like questions about this age. Which was fair, really - Alex himself was constantly trying to forget that technically he was 42 years old.

Willie looked up from the map and gave Alex a reassuring look. It made Alex’s heart ache and was probably less reassuring than Willie meant it to be - because he was so patient and kind and Alex was ruining everything by being so worried all the time.

“Alex,” they said, and Alex realized he hadn’t responded to anything Willie said. Willie reached across the space between them to put a hand on his knee. “We can poof back home. I might have gotten...carried away with this idea.”

Alex shook his head. “I want to see the places that are important to you,” he said.

Willie folded up the map instead of answering. The sun was bright in the sky behind them, it made Willie’s hair shine when he moved and highlighted the angles of his face - the line of his jawbone, the height of his cheekbones, the crease in his forehead from their perpetual smile.

“Come on,” Willie said, breaking the silence. He stood up and held out his hand. Alex took it, letting them haul him to his feet. “I have a better idea.”

Willie squeezed his hand and just like that, Alex felt a tingle in his bones and found himself standing on a busy side-street in downtown LA. Willie had the uncanny ability to drag other ghosts with him when he poofed - none of the other boys could do it. They thought it was maybe some residual Caleb-magic, but no one knew for sure, and it wasn’t like there were any ghost experts around to ask.

“I hate when you do that,” he complained, but he wasn’t serious, really. He felt more himself now that he was back in familiar territory, the predictability of the bustling LA streets easing his mind. “Where did you want to take me, anyway?”

“We’re going to the first shop I found when I moved to LA,” Willie said. “It’s just as important to me, because it reminds me of the place that I wanted to take you to today.” He held out the hand that wasn’t holding Alex, and his skateboard popped into existence, their helmet appearing on their head. “Pull me,” he said, squeezing the hand he was holding Alex’s with. He dropped his board with a clatter and jumped on.

Alex rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t know where we’re going, idiot,” he said. “And I meant where did you want to take me before we got lost in a giant field in the middle of Pennsylvania.”

Willie just looked at Alex and gave him a sort of quiet chuckle. “Not telling,” they said. “I’m going to take you back. I just need to figure out where it is so we can poof there directly.”

“Instead of getting lost in a giant field,” Alex said. He started forward, keeping his grip on Willie so he could tug them on their skateboard beside him. “You’d better tell me where to go.”

“It’s just down the street,” Willie said. “I’m sorry I made you anxious, Hotdog.”

Alex gave Willie a confused look. “I’m sorry I ruined it,” he found himself saying. “I know my anxiety can be-” hard to deal with, he was going to say, but he stopped short at the look on Willie’s face.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Willie said so gently it made tears prick at the corner of Alex’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter where I am or what we’re doing, as long as I’m with you. You’re allowed to be anxious, Alex. Also, stop.”

It took Alex a minute to process what Willie had said - so long that Willie had to jump off their board and tug Alex to a stop. Alex felt heat flood his cheeks, but Willie paid it no mind, tugging Alex in the direction of a flower shop instead.

The shop was small, the sort of hole-in-the-wall place you wouldn’t notice unless you already knew it existed. It’s door was open to the outside air, wreathed with some sort of vine - maybe ivy, but Alex really had no idea how to tell plants apart. There were stands outside, though, encroaching onto the sidewalk space and full of flowers. Pedestrians walked by, paying them no mind. A bent, weathered lady who looked as though she was at least one-hundred years old was standing outside, watering the plants. She didn’t look up as they approached - of course she didn’t, they were ghosts, but it still surprised Alex, even after months.

There were clusters of sunflowers on each side of the door, and those were what Willie made a beeline to, dragging Alex behind them by the hand. Before Alex could say anything, they pulled off two sunflowers from the stalk. Willie tucked one behind his ear and reached for Alex.

“I can’t believe you just stole sunflowers,” Alex said lightly. Willie tucked the other sunflower behind Alex’s ear, smoothing his hair down as he did. Alex let himself lean into the touch.

“Is it really theft if I’m not alive?” Willie asked with a wink. Alex’s free hand rose to rest on Willie’s hip, drawing him closer. And then Willie closed the distance, and placed a soft kiss on his lips and Alex’s heart soared because no matter how many times he did this, no matter how long he lived (or, you know, was dead for), he would never stop marveling at Willie and everything he was.

#bestie this was so fun to write thank you!!#cas writes maybe #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #netflixwewantjatp2 #alex mercer #writing prompt

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lovemybluebully · 3 years

Text

Relaxation Interrupted

I recently just started drawing and writing again after a long hiatus so nice to be posting again! Hope to hear from some of you guys! :)

X-men Evolution-verse

*/M, F/M, Very slight M/F Tickling Pure family bonding FLUFF!! Summary: Logan is dragged to the beach and Kitty convinces him to allow her to bury him in the sand. Some cute fatherly Logan bonding with his girls. ^_^ Word Count: 5,035 (Way longer than I planned! lol)

Based on this picture I drew on my DeviantArt. ( https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Relaxation-Interrupted-876785777 )

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaasse?"

"Still no." "C'mon Mr. Logan! It'll be fun!"

"Ya may be surprised to hear that I have a lot o' doubts about that." Wolverine was sitting on a towel on the sand of the local beach and was currently being pestered by his reason for being there in the first place; Kitty Pryde.

Professor Xavier thought it would be beneficial for Logan to start accompanying the students on a one-on-one basis for some bonding activities to improve student and teacher relations. Kitty had chosen the beach as their destination despite Logan's minor detest for sand, but he agreed with her promising just how relaxing it would be for him. He really could stand some relaxation. Especially after his day with Ororo's nephew Evan, who had naturally picked the skate park for them to go to. Not even Logan's natural reflexes and balance could keep him from ending up on his ass several times that day. He had to hold himself back from smashing every skateboard there to pieces. At least there was really nothing he could think of that might go wrong at the beach. The worst for most people was getting a sunburn, but he had no reason to worry about that with his healing factor. Kitty had brought along her young pit bull puppy that Logan had thoughtfully renamed to Runt, and after hiking the trail down the cliff-side they got settled in. The beach she had chosen was more secluded than the other tourist beaches in the area and currently there was no one around them for half a mile. Their time there wasn't bad so far. The weather was in their favor and the sun was out, keeping the air at a comfortable 70F degrees. All Logan had been doing was just sitting there throwing a small piece of driftwood for the puppy to fetch as he kept a watchful eye on Kitty splashing around in the ocean water. Eventually though she had emerged, and after drying off with a towel her next big idea was for him to let her bury him in the sand. Of course Logan was quick to reject the idea. "But, like, you don't even have to do anything! You can just sit there and-!" "Fer the last time Half-pint, ya ain't coverin' me with a buncha sand!" He growled with slight annoyance at her persistence as Runt came running back to deposit the retrieved stick in his hand. Kitty frowned with a pout of her lips as she turned and hugged her knees to her chest, looking genuinely disappointed. Logan instantly felt regret. He cursed his inability to resist feeling bad for the teenage girl, not wanting her to be unhappy because of him. Being one of the younger students at the school inherently made him more protective of her; not to mention how she had helped him come to his senses back when he had that mind-control chip that was implanted in his head. He supposed he could humor her for just a little while. What's the worst that could happen? With a loud sigh he softened his voice before throwing the stick for Runt once more. "Alright fine. If it means that much to ya then go ahead."

"Really?! You mean it?!" Kitty instantly perked up with a big smile and threw her arms around him, "Thanks Mr. Logan! You won't regret it!"

Logan smirked at how easy it was for her to change her mood and gave her a gentle hug back with one arm. "We'll see about that. Hopefully it ain't that hard to get off me after. Now if ya don't mind," he pulled his shirt off over his head, leaving him in just his swim trunks as he laid back on the towel, "I'm just gonna shut my eyes fer a few minutes an' catch some sun while yer doin' that." "Go right ahead! Like I said, you don't have to do anything. Just relax." "Sounds good to me." With the warmth of the sun penetrating all his exposed skin Logan found it easy to doze off rather quickly. Runt returned with the stick, but after finding Logan not responsive to him trying to thrust the stick into his hand the pup decided to just lay down beside him and start gnawing on the piece of wood. Meanwhile, Kitty got to work with the sand and began with his lower body, figuring that she'd be less likely to disturb his nap. It was about fifteen minutes later when Logan began to wake up, taking him a second to remember where he was. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up to find a large mound of sand covering his legs as Kitty continued to add more and more. "How's it goin' kid?"

She smiled when she heard his voice and saw he was awake again. "Pretty good. I actually had to start off with a lot of wet sand to get it going since the dry stuff was just sliding down and wouldn't stay in place. It doesn't feel too heavy on you I hope?"

Logan tried to move his legs a bit to test it, but found he couldn't budge them at all aside from his feet which the teen had left unburied and sticking out of the mound.

"Nah, it's fine. But if yer goal was to keep me from escapin' then I'd say ya succeeded," he wiggled his feet around, not too crazy about being restrained in any way, but he felt no threat from Kitty, and that little nap had relaxed him more than he thought it would. "It's only temporary. I'll dig you out when you're ready." Logan nodded as he discovered Runt asleep on the towel beside him, rubbing the dog's small body and waking him almost immediately. The puppy yipped excitedly as he licked at Logan's hand and then jumped to his paws to run down to the water to chase after the seagulls.

Kitty just smiled, knowing Logan had become very attached to the dog no matter how much he tried to appear otherwise. He was looking after Runt fondly before noticing he'd been caught by the pony-tailed girl as he tried to play it off. "Dumb mutt," he snorted and shook his head, breaking their eye contact to keep up his stoic demeanor. She tilted her head as it was her turn to look at him fondly. Others might find him to be hostile or unsociable or even just plain intimidating, which he was a lot of the time, but despite that she felt differently towards him. She knew firsthand of his dangerous animalistic side that he had trouble controlling, yet she still felt incredibly comfortable around him. She'd get homesick at times and found Logan always putting in the effort to be there for her in any way big or small. When she would feel like no one cared about any problems she was having he was the only one who was never too busy to listen and give her honest advice, even if sometimes it wasn't what she wanted to hear. He would never lie to her just for her sake and she appreciated that more than he knew.

She had grown pretty close to him and had taken the time to learn more about the side of him that he didn't show to many people. It took some digging as he was still pretty reserved when it came to showing emotions other than anger, but there were some things she had picked up. He may not show it in the traditional way, but he really did care about all of them. He was the crabby uncle and they were all his family. Logan finally looked back and found her staring at him strangely as he raised a brow.

"Uhhh...ya ok there Half-pint?"

She quickly snapped out of it and shook her head. "Sorry, I was just thinking. About how good you are to me. You'd really make a great dad," she smiled warmly as she thought she noticed a slight tinge of blush on Logan's cheeks as he just muttered and shrugged his shoulders. "Ah it ain't nothin' special. Don't even mention it," he tried to change the subject, "So uh, how's school goin'?" "It's not bad. I'm passing all my classes, and I've been cramming for my finals that are next week. It's nice to get a break from all that studying so thanks for coming here with me." "Any time kiddo. Sounds like ya needed a lil' getaway." "Yeah, I've had a lot on my mind lately," she looked to the side and fidgeted with her hands for a moment, "Hey Mr. Logan? You think I could talk to you about something?"

"Course ya can. Somethin' I can help ya with darlin'?"

"It's just...well Mr. Logan what I wanna know is-"

Logan cut her off. "How many times I gotta tell ya, ya don't gotta keep callin' me 'Mr', y'know? Think we're way past all the formalities. Just Logan'll do," he gave her a small smile for reassurance as she nodded. "Ok Logan. Anyways I was, like, just wondering, it might be stupid but...," she paused, biting her lip momentarily before the words just came tumbling out, "How do you know when a boy likes you?" She looked a little embarrassed for blurting it out like she did, but she was relieved to see no look of judgement on Wolverine's calm face. There never was no matter what she might say to him. "Boys, huh. Ya ain't old enough fer boys yet," his mouth quirked up slightly as Kitty just giggled. "In your mind I'd never be old enough," she shook her head, "But I'm 15 Logan, and boys are starting to notice me and well, I'm noticing them too. So like, what do I do? Should I start dressing different? Talking different? How do I know if I'm doing the right thing?" "Well first things first any boyfriend ya get is gonna need to have a private meetin' with me so I can beat...I mean, have a talk with 'em," he teased her as she laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. "Stop it, I'm serious! Really though!" "Alright fine. Well I can't speak fer them, but you'd be surprised how much confidence can overcome any kinda physical attraction. It may sound corny, but just stay true to yerself an' those boys won't be able to resist. Any boy that likes ya purely fer yer physical attributes ain't worth yer time anyhow." "Well I don't think I'll have that problem anyways. I mean, I'm not as pretty as someone like Jean-"

"What're ya talkin' about darlin'? Yer beautiful. An' don't let no one ever tell ya otherwise. If they do then they'll have to answer to me," he unsheathed his claws momentarily with a smirk as Kitty just blushed, not one to take compliments that well. "You really mean that?" Logan opened his mouth to answer, but instead came out a snort that just as quickly developed into a goofy looking grin as the burly man surprisingly started to chuckle.

"Heh..Hehehe...Ehehehehee!" Kitty blushed with a frown this time, feeling self-conscious that Logan was now laughing at her as she regret opening up to him about this.

"Well you don't have to laugh at me. If this is all a joke to you then you can just-"

"No I-eheeheehehee! It's not-aahahah! Get away!"

"Get away? You want me to leave?" She was seriously confused by what he was trying to say, though he was struggling to speak clearly through his giggles. "No! N-Not you! Hehehahaa! My feet! Get 'im off! Ahahahahaahaa!" Logan leaned over the sand pile and tried to swat at something on the other side as Kitty finally realized that something else was going on. The teen peeked over the sand and her mind was eased when she found the source of Logan's sudden outburst. Runt had returned from playing down by the water and was now excitedly licking away at the soles of Logan's bare feet while his tail wagged with vigor. It was always a pleasant surprise to see that even with his normally tough exterior Wolverine had his soft side too. Even more surprising was the fact that he was actually a very ticklish guy. Kitty herself had gotten into a few tussles with him when he was in the right mood, usually getting Rogue to help her team up against the gruff mutant until they had him in tears. Currently the playful pup was tickling him greatly as his feet flailed around and his toes curled and flexed, unsuccessfully trying to evade the little tongue. "C'mon! Get that muhuhutt! Baahaahaha! He's ticklin' me!" Logan was laughing harder now as he tried to free his legs by leaning back on his hands and pulling with all his might to no avail. "Aww, he's just playing with you. Lets give him another minute," Kitty smiled, making no move to stop the happy puppy. She loved seeing Logan laugh like this. It was rare for him to do it on his own, but tickling him was always a guarantee. It was just one of the few natural reactions she got to see from him, and it was nice to see him not be so wound up tight all the time. He'd never admit it, but he was always in a much better mood after laughing his guts out. "Whahahat?! No! I caahaan't taahaake-heeheeheehahahah! Stoppit!" Logan howled as he again leaned over the sand mound and tried to shoo the puppy away, but Runt saw his laughter and the flailing of his hands as a positive reaction. In his mind Logan was enjoying this and encouraging him to continue as he'd jump back momentarily to playfully bark before leaping forward to attack his toes with more licks. "OK! OK! Seriously! Aahahahahah! No mohohore! Maahaahake 'im stahahahaap!" Logan fell back onto his elbows as he clawed at the sand in his attempts to pull himself loose, though starting to lose some of his strength from laughing so much. Kitty made some unenthusiastic calls to the puppy to try to get his attention. "Runt? Runt! Come here boy! Oh shoot Logan, he's just not listening to me," she giggled, showing that she really wasn't trying that hard. "Grab 'im!! Just graahahaab 'im!! Eeheeheeheehehe!! Pleeheeheeaase!!"

Kitty pretended to think it over as she listened to his laughter and hysterical giggles for another minute before finally deciding he'd had enough. "Alright, come here you," she smiled and scooped the puppy up as he stretched his tongue to take a few last laps at Logan's toes. She snuggled him close as he licked her chin before placing him back onto the sand and patting his backside. "Go on now. Go play," she shooed him off as he barked and ran back down towards the ocean. She then turned to check on her mentor who was now sitting back up and still a little out of breath, though luckily with his natural abilities he was able to recover fairly quick.

"I didn't...sign up fer this." "You didn't have to! It's all included! Told you this place would be relaxing!" "Yeah....Bein' tickled outta my mind is reeeeaal relaxin'," he grunted sarcastically with a roll of his eyes as she continued to smile brightly at him. "But how do you feel now?"

Logan paused as he realized what she meant. He didn't want to prove her right, but he really did feel relaxed. However he decided he wouldn't oblige her and would just deny it like he normally would. "Feel like I need a long vacation from the lot o' ya," he mustered up a frown as Kitty just smiled knowingly. He didn't have to admit it. She could tell by his body posture and how his muscles weren't tensed up that this was about as relaxed as he could get. "Was that your plan all along? Buryin' me like this so ya could tickle me to death an' "relax" me?" He growled a little, but the way he did it indicated no hint of being angry with her as she just laughed. "Ok yeah, you got me," she rolled her eyes playfully, "Pffft! No, of course not! But I will say it is an added bonus." To add to her tease she promptly reached over and tickled his exposed stomach as he started to squirm and giggle again, but she was close enough that he was then able to give her a few well-placed squeezes on her side causing her to squeal and jump away from him.

He smirked, looking pleased with himself as she glared dangerously back at him. When it was just Kitty by herself trying to launch a tickle attack on him she could get in a few good shots, but he usually was able to turn the tables rather quickly with having his size and strength on his side. The silly girl was always wearing flip flops or some other flimsy shoes that were easily removed and his rough fingers could go to town on her soft soles, while she would screech and pound her small fists on his back. It was only when she was able to get reinforcements like Rogue and/or Boom Boom that he turned it down a little bit, not wanting to get too rough with them. The problem was that they knew that and with that weakness exposed it just enabled them to more easily get him subdued where they'd all pile on top of him and viciously tickle his ribs and his unbearably ticklish underarms until he cried "Uncle".

Logan always liked to gloat about the times he would best her though. "That'll teach ya to mess with me Pryde. Guess I win afterall." "Oh do you?" Her eyes darted mischievously to the side as she immediately rushed for his feet. Logan's own eyes widened, forgetting that he was still prisoner as he grabbed a hold of her arm briefly, but she easily phased out of his grip.

His next move was to rapidly start trying to unbury his legs from the sand trap, but the moment he felt her fingers digging into his soles he lost his momentum and fell back in a fit of hysterical laughter. "Naaaahahahahohohoo! K-Kihihihitty!! I was....j-just johohokin'!!" "Oh yeah? Well I'm not the one who's laughing!" She grinned, spidering her fingers all over his tender arches as his feet wiggled frantically to get away, "How's it feel Logan, hmm? Does this tickle?" She enjoyed taunting him from this side for it was usually him saying similar things to her while he'd tickle her feet. It wasn't often that she really got the chance to get him there because of how strong he was, not to mention his feet were his worst spot so he guarded them well. She was going to enjoy this as long as she could get away with. "Ye-Yehehehes!! Ohahahahaha!! Staahaap!!" He laid on his back and pounded his fist against the sand as Runt ran around them, barking excitedly and occasionally diving in to lick Logan's face, which in turn was making him laugh even more as he tried to shove the little dog away.

"Aww the big bad Wolverine has ticklish feet huh? Coochie coochie coo!" Her fingers wriggled their way right under his toes, knowing he'd hit the roof. "AHAHAhaha!! No!! C'mon!! Quihihit playin'!! Nohohot the tohohohoes!!" Logan reflexively thrashed like crazy with his arms wrapped around his stomach, laughing so hard he thought he was going to bust his gut open. "Declare me the winner and I may show mercy," she was enjoying her power trip as she continued tickling his toes while her other hand performed a devastating scribbling attack on his meaty soles. "Ahahahalright!! I sur-surrender!! Hahahhaaha!! Ya win!! Ya wiiiiin!!" Tears had began to creep out of his eyes, but Kitty had one last thing in mind. "Admit you like Runt! Tell him you love him!" She barely got the words out as he began yelling them at the top of his lungs. "I LOVE YA!! I LOVE YA RUNT!! BAAHAHAHAHAAH!!"

Kitty smiled big and finally stopped, knowing that once Logan started obeying demands that he really couldn't take anymore. Wolverine panted for breath and remained fairly motionless while Runt climbed all over him and covered his face with wet kisses.

He finally regained some sense as he grabbed a hold of the small dog and cradled him in his arm, slowly sitting back up. "Aww I knew you loved him!" Kitty laughed as Logan raised a brow at her, but then couldn't help smiling as Runt squirmed up from his hold and licked at his stubbled chin.

"Yeah fine, ya got me. Guess I do," he set the pup down and wiped the slobber off of his face with his hand, "Geez, well ya definitely ain't buryin' me all the way now like ya wanted. In fact I'm never lettin' anyone bury me again. I've been tortured a lot o' ways in my lifetime an' bein' tickled like that is by far the worst."

Thinking of the extremely painful tortures Logan had experienced with him even comparing it on the same level as tickling made Kitty giggle at how overdramatic he could be. "Heehee, not my fault you're so ticklish. But that's a good thing! Because it's always a great day when I get to see you smile." Before he knew it she had jumped on him to hug her arms around his neck; his heart softening a little from her words as he gently patted her back. There weren't many that could look past his prickly exterior and genuinely cared about his well-being. "Yeah yeah, don't rub it in," he couldn't help smiling at just how much affection she showed towards him, even if he did resist at times. It was his turn to make her smile now. "By the way what I was tryin' to tell ya darlin' before I got interrupted earlier, yeah I meant what I said."

"Meant what?" She pulled back to curiously look him in the eyes. "That yer beautiful. One o' the most beautiful girls I know inside an' out. I'd never lie to ya 'bout that."

The smile that came over her face was worth everything that had happened to him that day. "Thanks Logan. I won't forget that. Thank you for trusting me and always letting me see the sweet side of you," she squeezed him tighter for a few moments before finally letting him out of her embrace, "Well how about we get you out of this sand now, hm?" With his help she then got started working on unburying his legs from the sand. As they neared exposing his legs Kitty couldn't resist giving his foot a little tickle, laughing as Logan yelped and yanked his legs completely free. He glared playfully at the giggling girl. "So funny I forgot to laugh." "Well I can fix that. Give it here and I'll try again," she teased, reaching for his foot again as he hastily scrambled to stand up. "In yer dreams. Well I think I'm a little over this beach. Whaddya say we go do somethin' else?" Logan grunted as he bent down to pick up his tshirt and pulled it back on over his head, then dusting the sand off of his legs with the towel. "Sure," Kitty nodded as she got up and collected her things, including having to pick up Runt out of the hole he was digging in the sand, "I know Professor said it's the student's choice, but maybe we could, like, go do something that you want to do?"

Logan looked back at her surprised as they started walking across the sand, not expecting that he was going to get to choose for once.

"Somethin' I wanna do? Well I really could use a drink after all that torture ya put me through. I say we hit the bar. Yer 21 right?"

"I'm 15 you dork!" She grinned, knowing he knew damn well as she poked his ribs to make him chuckle. "Heh, yeah I know I know. Alright well how 'bout I take ya to the gun range? Ya ever shot a gun before? It's somethin' ya definitely should know how to do in case yer ever in that situation. I mean, I don't use 'em much myself, but I gotta practice my shot anyways fer once those boys start comin' to the school callin' on ya," he flinched with a wide smile and managed to brush her hand away as she tried to tickle him again. "Oooh you keep this up and later I'm going to get the girls together and we're just gonna destroy you," she was half-serious and that pushed Logan's cocky side back out. "Ya think I'm scared? Bring it on bub. I can take on an army o' ninjas single-handed, pretty sure a few teenage girls would be nothin'," he grinned proudly, flexing his muscles as she just laughed and shook her head. "You remember that. Remember you said that when we have you pinned down and you're begging for your life." "Ya got a wild imagination Pryde," Logan smirked with a roll of his eyes, trying not to show a hint of just how much that thought made him shiver. "Just picture it. And we're not just going to stick to the usual spots, oh no," she succeeded in pinching his side this time to make him squirm, "I mean it'd be a crime to not let the other girls experience the joy of seeing how you react to having your feet tickled. I'm sure Jean would be more than happy to help us out and hold you down for us. Oooh then we could all get your other bad spots too at the same time; your armpits, your belly, that one spot on your lower ribs. I'll bet it would almost kill you if we-" "Alright, cut that out! I get it. I won't kill yer boyfriends. Well....long as they don't give me a reason to," he cursed himself for breaking under the mental torture she was inflicting, but imagining all that was making his skin crawl.

"That's all I can ask of you," she laughed and patted his large bicep, "Can't promise we still won't go through with that idea, but we'll see how it goes." "Great," Logan groaned with a face-palm, but then let out a guffaw as Kitty reached into his armpit with wiggling fingers, "HAAH! Will ya stop ticklin' me?!" "Ok ok, I'll stop. Oh hey, before we go to that shooting place do you think we could get something to eat first? I'm starving!" She hugged her waist as Logan felt his own stomach growl and nodded. "Yeah, me too. You an' that mutt made me burn a lot o' calories by makin' me laugh so much. I'll let ya pick this one."

"Groovy! Because I know of this great vegan place that you'll just...," she peeked a glance up at the disgusted look that had spread over Logan's face as she just started to laugh, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! There's actually a really good steak house around here that's to die for! And they have a nice big outdoor patio so Runt can join us!"

She held the pup up in her arms who blissfully barked at hearing his name as Logan grinned and put his arm around her shoulders. "That's my girl. Now yer talkin' my language. Get on up now," he nudged her towards the steps leading up the cliffside to leave the beach. "Pretty sure they serve alcohol too so you can still get that drink you wanted!"

"Perfect. I might need to get some to-go also," he chuckled as he envisioned Kitty making good on her threats later that evening of getting her girlfriends after him. Having a good buzz would make that experience a lot easier to stand. But that would have to wait until later for he needed to be completely sober for their next activity. A firearm was serious business, and he would need his full mental capacity to thoroughly explain and show his student how to safely load, handle and shoot a hand gun.

His report back to the Professor later would be one of success in forging a stronger bond with young Kitty Pryde. He'd leave the part out where he was repeatedly tickled mercilessly, though seeing how tranquil Logan seemed would trigger Xavier's curiosity into how he got in that state. Wolverine was pretty resistant to keeping the Professor out of his head when he didn't want him in there so the telepath was forced to snoop around inside Kitty's mind later to unveil the truth. He of course knew that Logan was ticklish with it being hard for things to stay a secret in the school, but he was unaware of just how much the laughter he produced would greatly ease his mindset. There weren't many things that could get Logan to just shut off and forget about anything that was troubling him so Charles was pleased to see that something so simple could achieve that for him. He was also happy that people like Kitty, someone that Logan trusted, were more than willing to help him with that. It might be a stretch, but Charles looked at it as being the best therapy he'd ever seen for Logan's mental health. He'd known the man for many, many years and seen him try so many methods to bring him out of his brooding nature when all along he just needed to have a good laugh every now and then.

He hoped Logan wouldn't resist it too much and would realize what a positive thing it was for him. He could really stand a break from the tortured thoughts that constantly plagued his mind all these years. Though Charles had a good feeling that Kitty and the others wouldn't give him much choice in the matter either way. EPILOGUE: (Just a little more! XD) Word Count: 1,391 Charles was getting ready to turn in for the night when he decided to take one last scan of any conscious minds in the mansion grounds to make sure there were no impending threats nearby. He quickly picked up on a conversation downstairs. Kitty was among Rogue, Tabitha and Jean and she was going over some kind of strategy, though hearing the words "attack" and "Logan" made Xavier curious and tune in a little more precise. As all the details of their plot emerged Charles couldn't help the smile that came over him, but he still felt a sense of duty to at least try to warn his old friend. He quickly tracked Logan's current whereabouts, finding the man in the kitchen grabbing a beer from his stash and oblivious to what was about to befall him.

"Logan? Logan can you hear me?"

Logan wasn't even startled, used to having Xavier telepathically contact him on a frequent basis. "Hey Chuck. What's goin' on? Ya want a beer too?" Logan smirked and raised his beer can as he took a big swig, "This here's a double IPA I picked up from the-" "They're coming Logan. Get out of there. Get out before it's too late."

Logan frowned, having detected no unfamiliar scents within miles of the school as he rolled his eyes while chugging the rest of his beer. "What're ya talkin' about? No one's comin', ya crazy old fool. Maybe ya should try gettin' some sleep an' then you'll quit bein' so damn paranoid." Charles could now only listen and watch through all the involved eyes of Logan's doom as the first of them walked into the kitchen. "Oh, Jean. Ya should be in yer room. It's kinda late an' I got a doozy of a combat trainin' session for y'all tomorrow so ya might wanna rest up an'-Woah! Hey! Hey Jean what is this?! Put me down right now!" "Sorry Logan, it's nothing personal." "Thanks Jean! We'll take it from here."

"He's all yours ladies." "Kitty?! Rogue?! T-Tabitha?! Now wait a minute girls holdin' me down like this ain't fair! It's bad enough without- Oh nonono, don't! Don't take my boots off! At least let me keep my- No, not the socks too! Look! I'll take it easy on ya on the trainin' tomorrow! I'll cancel it even! Just don't- Heeheheehee!"

"Oooh the tough old badger is sensitive there."

"Told you!"

"Well Ah'm definitely gonna go first!"

"Do the honors Rogue! And then Runt wants a turn again!"

"No wait! We can make a deal! Aw hell, yer not gonna get me there too, are ya?! But-But not all at the same time, right? Right?!?!" "Don't worry Logan. It won't be that bad. We're just gonna give yah your daily dose of giggles!" "But I already got it today! Ask Kitty!" "She meant from ALL of us ya dummy!" "Ok, now on my command ladies. One..."

"No no no wait! Hear me out!" "Two..."

"Please! Ya can't do this! This is inhumane!" "Three!"

"BWAAHAHAHAHAAHAH!! NONOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! STOOOOHAHAHAHOP IHIHIHIHIT!! AHAHAHAHAHAHACH-CHUHUHUHUHUCK!! HEHEHEHEHELLLLLLPPPP!!"

"I tried to warn you Logan. I'm afraid you're on your own." Charles simply smiled with a sympathetic shake of his head as he continued to observe. Logan's mental defenses had been disabled with him being too preoccupied with dealing with the extreme tickling that Charles was able to sneak in and see just what was going on in his mind.

Yes, Logan had begged like crazy not to be tickled, but it really didn't bother him as much as he made out. His thoughts revealed that he was enjoying the bonding aspect of this with the girls; not minding having to suffer as long as they were having fun. This was a little more intense tickling than he was used to so his sensitive nerves were a bit overwhelmed trying to process it all, but his brain was still flooded with the feel good hormones, pushing all signs of any stress to the back of his mind. In a way Logan was glad that Jean was holding him down as he didn't have to combat the urge to fight against it on his own. He didn't have to concentrate on not lashing out and accidentally hurting one of the girls, which was always a fear he had. All he had to do was laugh. The pleading for them to stop was involuntary and he didn't really try to keep it in, knowing the girls loved hearing it as much as they did hearing him laugh so freely. Charles realized that Logan did indeed see the benefit in this for him, but also he saw the joy and amusement that it brought to the girls and that's what really pushed him to grin and bear it.

He watched as they finally let him go about six minutes later, which was about four minutes after Logan was already in tears from laughing. Jean lifted the exhausted man off the floor and gently placed him onto the nearby couch recliner to recover before bidding the others goodnight and heading up to her room.

Kitty, Rogue and Tabitha scrambled to get on the couch as they all piled on top to hug and cuddle him, still playfully teasing him. "Man, you're just too ticklish Wolvie."

"Yeah Ah think we almost killed 'im." "No way! He can take it, right Logan?"

"Piece o' cake. Barely felt a thing."

The three girls just laughed and snuggled against the older mutant as he put his arms around them and pulled them closer. "Love you Logan!" "Yeah, thanks for pulling that stick out of your butt for a little while, you pushover."

"Well that stick is goin' right back in first thing tomorrow. I'm still holdin' that trainin' session in the mornin' an' I expect all o' ya to show up ready to be serious an' pay attention. No foolin' around, alright?" "Are you suggesting we wouldn't be on our best behavior? You know we're your best students."

"Sure, I'll let ya think that if it helps ya sleep at night."

"Hey!"

"Hehehehe, alright knohahahock it off! I know I'm lucky to have all o' ya!" "Don't you forget it." "Believe me, that's somethin' I ain't ever gonna forget."

The way he smiled at them showed pure devotion, which was something Charles hadn't seen from him in a long time. He loved those girls and they loved him back. He'd make sure nothing ever happened to them and would protect them with his life. Sleep was overtaking Logan now as he yawned and allowed his eyes to shut; his mind still swimming in the flood of endorphins and ensuring he would not be having any nightmares. Kitty and Rogue leaned in closer to his sides and Tabitha lay across his lap as they all closed their eyes as well; Logan unable to hold back his smile.

A small yip from the floor made Logan crack open one eye as he spied Runt trying to get up onto the couch with them, but was too small to reach the top. Being carefully not to move too much and disrupt the girls Logan slowly lowered his foot for the little puppy to climb onto and used it to lift him up. Runt gave his foot a soft lick in appreciation as Logan winced and had to try his hardest to not make any sudden movements. The pup then spun a few circles and made himself comfortable nestled between Logan's feet on the recliner as the man gave one last smile of satisfaction and began to drift back off to sleep. Those three girls and their dog were in the safest place they could ever be; in the loving embrace of one of the deadliest mutants alive. God forbid anyone who tried to disturb them. "Ya can get outta my head now Chuck. Show's over."

Charles was shocked and instantly released all the mind connections he had made, but he couldn't help letting out a relieved chuckle. It wasn't that he had been able to sneak into Logan's mind, he had been let in. Seeing this whole night play out had Xavier remember something he had seen in Kitty's mind from her beach outing with Logan earlier. "You'd really make a great dad," she had told him. Charles couldn't agree more.

#ticklefic #wolverine #logan #kittypryde #shadowcat #fluff #familybonding #tickle #tickling #ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #xmenevolution #boomboom #tabithasmith #rogue #annamarie #jeangrey

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