#might reblog with that awful shirt he for valentine's day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

percywinchester27 · 4 years

Text

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-16)

Word count: 1.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluffity fluff fluff, pregnancy stuff.

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: One sneak peak into their married life :) I know it is a short chapter but we felt that the break was necessary. Thank you to all you guys who comment and reblog. I love you <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. You da best <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

13th February 2009

“Are you peeking from in between my fingers?” Sam asked dubiously. “I’ll know if you cheat.”

She laughed her clear, joyous laughter. “I’m not peeking. Some trust?”

He could have followed that up with something cheesy but Sam held his tongue as he maneuvered around the foyer and into the living room.

“Ready?”

“Ready!” The note of excitement was palpable in her voice.

Sam lifted his hands from over her eyes. There was a gasp as she took in the room before her. The double height space and the classic wooden furniture. The opposite wall was completely glass and one could see the sprawl of Manhattan below it. Sam tried to imagine how it looked to her, the modern staircase leading up to the upper story, the kitchen that was just visible around the living room corner. It wasn’t a big place with only two bedrooms upstairs, and Sam had wondered over and over if getting a place in the city was a good idea after all, especially with little Chirp on the way. Maybe he should have looked for a little house in the suburbs with a picket fence and a wide road where chirp could ride his bicycle.

Sam was distracted by that image- of a little boy trying to balance his wheels. Both, he and Y/N had been so excited on the day of the sonography two weeks ago. Bets had been made and Sam had never been happier to lose. A baby boy with Y/N’s smile and Y/N’s heart. It would be alright with him if the kid was all Y/N, really. He could still picture her face as she’d held his hand, the tears streaming down her face- “We’re having a boy, Sam. We’re having a son.”

“This is beautiful,” Y/N exhaled, breaking Sam out of his reverie. “I love it.”

“There’s a small study upstairs,” he pointed and her eyes followed the direction of his fingers.

“Both the bedrooms are upstairs,” he said apologetically. “But since you won’t be moving here before the delivery, I didn’t think it would be much of a problem.”

“Sam, stop fretting,” she said, turning in the circle of his arms- a little awkwardly, now that she was rounder in the middle. “This home is perfect.”

It brought back his earlier anxiety. “You don’t think the city is a bad place to raise a child? We can pass on this and look for something outside the city limits.”

“Houses don’t raise children. Parents do,” she reminded him with humour in her eyes. “As long as we are together, we can make this work. And no, I don’t think you’re being selfish by booking a flat close to your work.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“I know you, Mister.” She blew a kiss towards him.

Wondering not for the first time about just how perceptive Y/N was, Sam gave her a tour of the house, especially careful on the steps. It was perfect for her taste, already. Minimal and elegant. He didn’t think that she would want to redecorate.

“I’m thinking we can move the furniture to one side and make this into a mini library,” she was saying, pointing to the corner where the foyer opened up. “And your piano can go right next to it.”

“Mhmm…”

She looked at him, then, eyes narrowing, before grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the sofa with her.

“You’re a million miles away, Sam,” she said, squeezing the hand she was holding. “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s hard to be away from you,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

They had both always known that Sam would have to move to New York in February for the job, but when it came to Y/N, Ellen had put her foot down that she would remain in Lawrence till the delivery. Y/N needs a mother, she needs a sister to look after her, Ellen had explained. Besides, there was only Sam here, and so many people in Lawrence to care for Y/N. The logic had seemed infallible to Sam then, and Y/N didn’t want to break her aunt’s heart. How hard could it be? Living apart for a few months. But the one week he had spent in the city without her had been torturous to say the least. She was on his mind all the time and it was making it harder to concentrate on his new job. There was always so much anxiety, about whether she was doing okay.

He had been dying for the weekend, knowing that she would be visiting him.

“It’s just a few more months,” she reassured him. “And you’ll be with me on the weekends.”

“It’s not enough,” he sighed. “I miss you more than what’s logical.”

Her laughter rang through the somewhat empty house.

“I’m being silly, aren’t I?” He gave her a wry smile.

Y/N shook her head. “You’re not being silly. You’re just being a wonderful husband.”

Sam reached out and pulled her over him, then leaned back on the sofa so she was sleeping against his side. His fingers found her hair, as he tried to convey just how much each second spent with her meant to him. The rational part of his brain told him that the novelty was supposed to wear off after a while, that he wouldn’t always be so maddeningly in love with her, and yet, in his heart Sam knew that the rational part of his brain was being stupid. He didn’t think it was possible for him to love her any less. Ever.

“So, do you want to visit the Yale campus tomorrow?” He spoke into her hair, where he was occasionally planting kisses. “You know, for Valentine’s day?”

She shook silently against him in laughter at first, then managed in between giggles. “Stop selling Ivy Leagues to me!”

Sam laughed along with her. “Really, Y/N! What’s stopping you now?”

“I don’t think I can get in.”

“That’s a whole load of bull if anything,” he said. “I really believe that you can achieve anything you set your heart to. Yale… Stanford… Berkeley… anything.”

“You skipped one,” she pointed out and he rolled his eyes.

“Harvard’s overrated.” He had always been prejudiced about Harvard. And the years spent at Yale with all that rivalry hadn’t helped one bit.

Sam could see she wasn’t entirely convinced, but Y/N gave in with good grace. “Okay, we’ll go to New Haven tomorrow. Happy?”

“More than I can express in words,” Sam answered truthfully.

***************************

17th March 2009

“Okay, you need to stop crying,” Sam mumbled. “I feel like I’m doing an awful job.”

“No no…” you waved your hand. “Don’t stop playing. I’m just being an emotional idiot here. It’s the hormones… and you play so beautifully.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Seriously, you’re going to give me a big head here.”

Barely.

It was way past your bedtime, but you wanted to make the most of the weekend since Sam was here. You dragged him to the piano to play something for you. There was something heavenly about watching his fingers slide over the keys.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said honestly, taking one of his hands, while the other continued playing and kissing his knuckles. “Be so cutthroat in the courtroom and so gentle… otherwise.”

You had taken to reading his textbooks and notes from college in the afternoon, carefully noting the language, the way he phrased his arguments. You could only imagine him sitting in the Green Library, as he had described it, slogging over assignments. Maybe if you learned some of this now, you could apply it in college yourself.

Sam shuddered as you kissed the silver band on his finger.

“If you keep doing that, Y/N,” He said slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep playing for long.”

You giggled and let go of his hand. Sam sighed regretfully, but went back to his keys. Fur Elise again.

You felt it then. Swift and fluttering.

“Sam!” You gasped.

“I know, I know this is your favourite… But I swear if you start crying again-”

“No, Sam! The baby kicked!”

“What?”

You grabbed his hand and placed it over your belly. “Feel it! Chirp’s kicking.”

“Holy-” Sam’s eyes were wide as he put both his palms on your stomach, moving around when the baby kicked again.

“I felt something a week ago and then again on Tuesday, but this is the first time…” The tears that had just subsided came back again and started pouring down your cheeks.

“Our baby is… kicking…”

Abruptly, Sam yanked your shirt up by the hem, rolling it so it was tucked right under your chest, and placed his cheek on the skin where you had felt the first push.

Chirp moved again and you felt Sam stiffen over you. He held his breath for a while, but nothing happened again.

“Play something,” you suggested.

Without really moving, Sam moved one hand and placed it over the keys, playing the intro of Swan lake. Inside you, Chirp moved again.

“Sam! He’s doing it again. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. For the next few minutes his fingers played ceaselessly on the keys. Happily, you hummed along, feeling the little movements that quieted down slowly till they stopped.

When Sam finally raised his head up, you could see his eyes were watery.

“This… this…”

“I know,” you said, watching him struggle to find words. “I know.”

You reached out to touch the corner of his eye. “And I thought I was the hormonal one, huh?”

“You hear that, Chirp,” Sam mumbled, hand still on your rounded stomach. “You see how your mom makes fun of dad?”

“Chirp’s smart,” you said smugly. “He’ll know whose side to pick.”

The moisture still rolled down the side of Sam’s eye. “I’m glad I didn’t miss this… that I was around.”

“You hear that, Chirp?” You said, lightly. “Your dad’s scared about missing out. It’s because he loves you.”

Sam pulled you against his chest where you could hear the beat of his heart, slowing to normal with each passing second. You didn’t know what he was thinking… but you could guess that his thoughts were probably in line with yours. And as far as you were concerned, your closed eyes conjured one specific image. A tall man sitting before a piano, head not quite bowed, but rather tilted towards a woman who was looking at him with love and adoration. The music flowed slowly, but not in tune, because between them, a small boy was seated, giggling mischievously as he tinkered with the keys, off-scale but lilting. He would look up at the man for approval after each stroke, and when his father nodded, the boy would turn to the woman with a look of sheer happiness and a hint of pride in his soft hazel eyes. Your family.

***************************

A/N 2: Just one last flashback chapter to go. I’m pretty sure you all know what happens by this point, but just in case someone wants to know to avoid triggers, please feel free to message privately. It’s a really angsty chapter, so I thought it necessary to forewarn you.

That being said, due to exams I’ll be a bit inactive, but I’ll try my best to post the next chapter on schedule so we can go back to the present timeline as soon as possible.

I’ve added the posting dates for the next two chapters on the masterlist, in case you guys want to know!

The feedback is literally what’s keeping this story going right now. My immense thanks to all you lovely people who take the time out to be SO kind to me. I love you <3

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman @im-a-light-child @cosicas-cuquis @bllyjianne @hoboal87 @i-is-for-inspiring @daughterleftbehind @wackiekebab @mylovelydame21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @superbadassnatural @babypink224221 @badlittlehabit99 @anathewierdo @sams-bubblegum-bitch @fandomoverdose666 @superstarmarvel @atc74 @aiofheavenandhell @rebel-author-chick @death-unbecomes-you @cookiechipdough @kbl1313 @linki-locks11 @miss-nerd95 @sunflowers-n-rocknroll @stoneyggirl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @niyahgray @traceyaudette @blueaura @awfulmoons

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #lawyer!Sam x reader #professor!Sam x reader #sam fluff #tw pregnancy #Ana writes ALLU #anawritesspn #anawrites #allu 16 #q

102 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Serendipity (Rated PG13)

Summary: Aziraphale’s best friend Tracy sets him up on a blind date, but the man who shows up isn’t what he expects. (4351 words)

Notes: Written for the @ineffable-valentines prompt ‘perfect date’ and inspired by a post I saw @miraworos reblog on tumblr, which happened to be the exact premise of a story I had written a long time ago for another fandom. So I brushed it off, re-sculpted it, and voila. I hope y'all like it

Read on AO3.

“So … how’re the crepes treating you? Are they everything you dreamed they’d be?”

“Oh my yes! They’re absolute Heaven!”

“They should be. This place is famous for them.”

“Good, because they’re my favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I brought you here. More wine?”

“That depends … are you trying to get me drunk?” Playful blue eyes, twinkling above cheeks darkening from baby pink to dusty rose, meet seductive liquid gold.

Lush lips split into a devilish grin. “Maybe.”

Those blue eyes dip down to those inviting lips and linger there, lost in a daydream of mouths meeting, tongues sweeping, kisses traveling, caressing pale skin … “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

Wine pours. Glasses clink and the robust red sipped. Fingers snap, and like magic, another bottle of wine appears.

“Now,” the devilish lips ask, “where was I?”

“You heard something in your walls?”

“Oh yes. For days I’m hearing scritch-scritch-scritch, and the pattering of tiny feet on my marble floors morning and night, like little ghosts wearing tap shoes puttering about my flat.”

“Ooo! That’s spooky!”

Subtle shrug. “Don’t bother me. I like spooky. Big spooky fan me. So I look and look. but I can’t find where it’s coming from. And I mean, I look everywhere …”

Aziraphale covers his mouth and giggles, blown away by how drawn in he’s become to this story. Reuben is such a dynamic storyteller. Aziraphale feels like he’s there with him, searching his house for the mysterious scratching that’s plagued him day and night, shivers as his description of them runs its nails delightfully up his spine. For good or bad, Aziraphale is invested now, even though the events of this tale are over and resolved. Reuben pauses his story; chuckles shyly, too; while Aziraphale waits patiently to hear the rest of the saga.

“To make a long story short, I take apart the entire wall unit, and finally I find the culprit – the cutest family of white rats I have ever seen! Momma had made a nest in the insulation and had babies! Five of them! I couldn’t believe it!”

“Oh no!” The tips of a mouth turn down as those shivers make a return trip. “I don’t personally fancy rats. What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do.” Reuben takes a sip of his wine – a 2014 Bogle Petite Sirah. It sounded so scrummy when Reuben ordered it, Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He had to have a glass, too. And Reuben was not wrong. Its dense blueberry and blackberry flavors compliment the crepes exquisitely. The alcohol doesn’t overwhelm the palette, but it’s racy enough to bring color to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I adopted her. Named her Rogue.”

“You adopted wild rats!?”

“Turns out - not wild. After a little investigating, I found out that momma rat had belonged to a neighbor who moved out a week ago. They couldn’t bring the rat with them, or they didn’t want to, so they set her loose in the garden downstairs. She ended up getting back in somehow.” Reuben runs his index finger around the rim of his glass. “It may sound bonkers but I admire Rogue. I really do. Abandoned by the family she thought would love and take care of her, she fights and struggles to find a safe place to have her brood, which ends up being the place she was cast out from. I couldn’t just put her on the street.” He sighs, a fond but sad smile crossing his lips. “Reminds me a bit of my mum, to tell you the truth - the unforgiving life she had raising me and my sisters after our father left …”

Aziraphale gasps, that confession wrapping around his heart and giving it a solid tug. He could listen to Reuben talk all night. But he’s not just a great storyteller. He happens to be sweet, funny, attractive (God is he attractive! But, of course, Aziraphale has always been a sucker for hazel eyes like his, with flecks of gold that brighten the irises when the alcohol flows or the lighting is right). And as if that wasn’t enough, he works at one of the most successful (and philanthropic) firms in the city. But he doesn’t wear his wealth on his sleeve, doesn’t flaunt it like a selling point. His shirt is vintage, the wine he ordered costs $20 a bottle, and he came here on the tube. Personality, modesty, good looks, environmentally conscious, a stable career … Aziraphale sighs. In his opinion, Reuben is close to the perfect guy, and this blind date is going swimmingly!

Too bad it isn’t his.

“Oh Reuben …” Lorelei – Reuben’s date – blots her eyes with her napkin. She reaches across the table to touch his hand. Reuben’s eyes flick towards the touch and he smiles brighter.

Oh yeah, Aziraphale thinks, raising his glass and finishing the last of his Sirah. They’re having a fabulous night.

Aziraphale pulls out his pocket watch and checks the time.

9:45.

He’s been sitting at the table next to theirs for over an hour, waiting for his own Reuben to appear. Aziraphale figured out thirty minutes ago that his blind date wasn’t coming. He’s gotten no texts, no calls, no apologies, no explanation why. Reuben and Lorelei might have a glowing future together, but his date for the evening is definitely a bust. The wait staff knows it, too. Every time the waitress stops by, offering to refill his water glass, it’s with a sympathetic smile. She’s long since stopped asking him if he wants to pack up what’s left of his crepes to go.

What’s left.

That’s a joke.

It’s pretty much the whole order.

He lost his appetite a long time ago.

Aziraphale reaches for his cell phone but stops with his hand on his pocket. He’s not going to be that guy. He’s not going to send another text. He’s not going to give this man an easy out, refuses to give him the benefit of the doubt and say, “Well, I guess you got caught up. Text me back and we can reschedule for another time.”

Aziraphale is done.

He just wishes he knew why.

Why doesn’t dating work out for him?

He’s not a bad guy, if he does say so himself. He’s reasonably attractive (at least, he’s always thought so). He owns his own small business, even if it doesn’t necessarily turn a profit, but money isn’t something he needs to worry about anyway. He’s doing what he loves, therefore he’s living the dream.

He’s not asking for much. He’s not looking for the perfect man, just a nice one. One who might share some of his interests like theater, food, music, wine, food, books … food. But on the whole, he wants to find a man who wants to spend time with him, get to know him, who maybe isn’t ashamed of doing cutesy, romantic things, like hold the door open for him, pull his chair out for him, offer him half his desert the way Reuben did with Lorelei.

Reuben.

Aziraphale peeks back over at the happy couple.

As Reuben stares into Lorelei’s eyes and signals for the check, Aziraphale knows that he needs to face facts and be done with this. His roommate Tracy has, yet again, succeeded in finding him a date that’s not interested in actually dating.

Where does she even find these guys?

More to the point, why hasn’t he learned to say no to her?

Unfortunately, he won’t get to gripe to her about it until Monday when she comes back from some spiritualist retreat she went on with their friend Anathema, so Aziraphale has a long, lonely weekend of reading Oscar Wilde and drinking (Irish) cocoa to look forward to until then.

Aziraphale takes one last sip of the lukewarm water in his overfilled glass and decides to ask for the check. He feels awful. He may have ordered a full meal but he’s barely touched it. Plus, even though he’s done his best to be as polite as possible, he has wasted over an hour of their time occupying a table that could have been made available to other paying customers on this busy Friday night.

He prays he has a forgettable face. On the off chance he ever comes in here again, he wouldn’t want them spitting in his food.

He looks around the dining room in search of his waitress – a lovely young red-head with freckles across the bridge of her nose and a permanent pout. He doesn’t see her, but spots a man rushing towards his table – a tall, remarkably handsome man dressed all in black and wearing designer sunglasses (indoors!); cheeks flushed as if he’s been running in the cold; a warm, inviting smile aimed his way.

“Hey there, handsome. Sorry I’m so late,” the man says, pulling out a chair, spinning it around, and straddling it across from Aziraphale in a move that makes Aziraphale’s breath catch. “I wish I could say I was stuck behind a seven car pile-up or something, but I really have no exciting excuse. Not that the M25 isn’t a bitch at this hour, but I didn’t take it so, again, no excuse.”

The man smiles at Aziraphale, waiting for him to laugh at his joke. Aziraphale looks suspiciously back, turning his head left and right, searching for an explanation.

“I … I’m sorry,” he says, addressing the man, mostly through side-eye glances. “Are you are you … looking for me?”

“Yes.” The man extends an arm across the table. “I’m your date for the evening. I’m Tracy’s friend Gabriel.”

“You?” Aziraphale raises an eyebrow. ��You’re Gabriel?”

The man’s smile becomes wider in a tense sort of way. “Yes, I am.”

Aziraphale looks left and right again, obviously skeptical.

The man folds his hand on the table and sighs.

“Look, Aziraphale, I know I was supposed to be here at a quarter to nine, and I know you’ve probably called and texted a hundred times. I’m really, really sorry.” He looks down at his thumbs, fidgeting as he speaks. “I know this is going to sound lame, but I got caught up at work, and then my car ran empty. I wanted to call you, but I left my phone at the office.” The man sighs again, deeper, the air leaving his body causing him to flatten a bit. “This has been a pretty shite day, all things considered, and I was really looking forward to this date tonight. I would like the opportunity to make it up to you.” The man looks at Aziraphale from behind dark lenses, a sincere expression of regret on his face, eyes peeking over the frames pleading for a second chance.

Hazel eyes, with so many gold flecks crowding in they practically shine.

“Will you let me try?”

Aziraphale is stunned to silence. He doesn’t quite believe that Gabriel ever intended on showing up at all. But then, why is he here? Did some other plans he made fall through? Did he feel guilty about blowing Aziraphale off and turn around at the last minute? Aziraphale knows he has every right to leave - stand up, say goodbye, and go on his merry way. But Gabriel did show up – the first of three blind dates to even bother – so maybe Aziraphale should give him a chance.

He’s mulling it over when he catches sight of the man staring at him, a flirty smile on his lips that Aziraphale can’t help find alluring.

“Please?” the man mouths, the hands he’d folded on the table finding their way up to his chin to aid in his begging. “Please?”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes to pry his gaze away from the man’s mouth. “Alright. It sounds like you had a hard day. I can’t fault you for that.” The man looks relieved. His smile turns slightly impish, and Aziraphale finds himself giggling without meaning to. “Why don’t we have a nibble and get to know one another?”

Gabriel smacks his hand on the table in triumph. “Great!” he says, reclining back on the chair like a large snake relaxing in the sun. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret it!”

A hint of a smirk twists Aziraphale’s mouth at the corners as his waitress makes a sudden and unexpected appearance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my dear. You have a bit of time to make up for.”

***

“So my mate rings me up, and he’s screaming …” Gabriel gestures with his hands as he gets more into the story he’s telling, and Aziraphale watches, utterly captivated. If Aziraphale thought Reuben was a good storyteller, it’s only because he hadn’t met this man yet. “He’s straight yelling, “They’re everywhere! They’re everywhere! And it’s bloodcurdling, ya know? Like straight out of a horror movie. And I’m trying to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about …” He pauses to catch his breath in the middle of a laugh while Aziraphale, already in tears, pictures Gabriel sitting at home, listening to his friend Ligur yelling while trying to make out like he has no idea what the man is on about. “And I’m just like, “Calm down, buddy.” But at home, I’m biting my fist trying not to blow my cover. And the next thing I know - bzzt.”

Aziraphale sobers slightly, his eyebrows shooting up. “Bzzt? What does that mean? Bzzt?”

“Bzzt as in the line goes dead. And on my end, the world might as well’ve stopped spinning because I knew what happened.”

“And what did happen?” Aziraphale asks, on the edge of his seat.

“They’d destroyed it! The rats! Those furry little buggers, they managed to knock out the phone system! And not just in my neck of the woods, but the whole of London!”

Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. “That was you!?”

Gabriel points to himself proudly. “That was me! All because …”

“All because you fed a rat!?”

“All because I fed a rat!” Gabriel guffaws so loudly, other diners turn their way to make sure he’s not choking.

“I remember that day!” Aziraphale says, but not too upset since he’s not all that fond of his cell phone. Necessary evil in his opinion. Tracy made him get it so he could field calls from potential suitors. But Tracy, who spends hours on the phone talking to her fiance, was livid!

It gives Aziraphale no small measure of satisfaction to say he now knows the man who inconvenienced her.

“I didn’t know its whole family lived in the building! Extendeds and all! I thought it was just one rat!”

“And what happened to them?”

“Exterminator, I guess,” Gabriel says with a hint of regret in his voice. “Rats are smart, though. Resilient, too. I’m hoping they got away.”

His story brings to Aziraphale’s mind Reuben’s story about the rat in his walls. He looks towards the table where he and his date were sitting, but a new couple has taken their place.

Huh, he thinks. Wonder when they left?

Aziraphale, having ordered a second glass of wine, takes a healthy sip, but the buzz he gets from the alcohol is nothing compared to the one he already has from this date with Gabriel.

“I have to say,” Aziraphale says as the laughter dies down, “I was a little wary about being set up. I mean, you hear so many stories. Best case scenario, you find your soulmate. Worst case, you wind up in the boot of someone’s car. But this is going so well!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Gabriel agrees, becoming suddenly quiet.

“I’ve never met a real live Pied Piper before!”

Gabriel laughs, but it’s not like before - not as effervescent and carefree. Aziraphale looks down at the empty plates on the table, at the stray pieces of crepes and deviled eggs they’d ended up splitting, not a single full bite left. As it turned out, they both ordered really well. Aziraphale didn’t think it was possible for two things to be so compatible.

He was wrong, pleasantly so.

“I know you had a rotten day but thank you for showing up. This was probably the most perfect blind date ever.” Aziraphale watches Gabriel, concerned that his attention seems to be slipping away.

Before he gets to comment, Gabriel beats him to it.

“Aziraphale, I have a confession to make.”

Aziraphale feels the butterflies that have been dancing in his stomach during dinner drop dead, as if hit by a sudden frost.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“I …”

“Crowley! Hey! Fancy seeing you here, ya old bastard!”

Aziraphale’s attention pulls to the left, to a man with white hair and dark eyes heading their way. No, Aziraphale amends. He’s going to go past them, to a table on their right since neither of them are named Crowley. Aziraphale peeks at the handful of tables there, but no one seems to notice the man calling over their heads.

No one named Crowley is responding to his call.

He is sort of making a scene. Maybe this Crowley is trying to ignore him?

But the man coming their way seems completely focused on Gabriel.

Aziraphale looks to Gabriel, staring down at his plate and concentrating on it, as if praying this man, whoever he is, will pass them by.

Who could it be to him to elicit such a reaction, especially when it’s obvious he’s got the wrong man?

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale says, worried that perhaps something they ate soured his stomach. “Is there something the matter?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Aziraphale, I …”

“Crowley!” The man comes right up to their table and claps a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch. “How long has it been, huh? Two months? Three?”

Gabriel sighs. He turns to the man looming over him and smiles the strained smile of a man about to commit a murder. “Hastur! Buddy! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yeah.” The man chuckles. “You look like it is.”

“I thought you were vacationing down under.”

“Well, I’m back now. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asks, taking no time cutting to the chase.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel … no, Crowley … says, doing everything in his power to avoid the full intensity of Aziraphale’s confused gaze, “I’d like to introduce you to Hastur. He’s … uh … an old friend of mine from school. Hastur, this is Aziraphale. He’s my … date for the evening.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hastur says, extending a hand. Aziraphale takes it and gives it a shake. It’s cold from the outdoors but not unpleasant. Hastur, on the whole, isn’t being impolite. He’s just oblivious.

As is Aziraphale.

“I’ve been tellin’ this asshat for years now he needs to get off his high horse and start dating again. Nice to see he finally took my advice.”

“Yeah, well, now that I have, why don’t you make yourself scarce so Aziraphale and I can continue?” Crowley grumbles, shooting Hastur several venom-filled glares.

“A’right, a’right,” he says, putting his hands up in defense, “don’t mind me. Just headin’ to the bar anyhow. Ring me up later, Crowley. We’ll go out for a few. Maybe your friend can come with us.”

“Will do.”

“You gentlemen have a nice night.” He bumps Crowley with his hip, winks at Aziraphale, then turns on his heel and heads for the bar.

The silence he leaves behind at Aziraphale and Crowley’s table is so thick, it could suffocate a wild boar.

Aziraphale clears his throat first. “So …”

Crowley follows, a bit softer. “So …”

“Tell me the truth,” Aziraphale says, too emotionally charged to keep frustration from cracking his voice.

“And if you don’t like what you hear?” Crowley looks at Aziraphale’s hands worrying his napkin, as if he’s longing to reach across the table and take one. “Are you going to leave?”

“I’m going to leave anyway. I just want to know who I’m calling the cops on when I get outside.”

“Don’t do that. I’m harmless. I promise.”

“Who are you?”

“Well … as you probably already know, my name isn’t Gabriel,” he says, finally removing his glasses and setting them aside. “It’s Crowley. Anthony Crowley. And I wasn’t your blind date. I’m not the man your friend set you up with.”

Aziraphale moves the napkin to his lap and smooths it, giving himself something other than Crowley to look at.

“To tell you the truth, I had a feeling,” he confesses. “I mean, you don’t seem like the type of man my friend would usually set me up with.”

“What kind of men does she usually set you up with?”

Aziraphale chuckles. “I don’t know. They don’t tend to show up.” Crowley growls, shakes his head in disgust. Aziraphale is flattered by his reaction. But he has to ask, “I don’t understand why? Why did you do this?”

“I stopped in for a drink and I saw you sitting at this table, waiting for your date.” Crowley grins. “I have to admit, I thought you were a looker, so I kept looking. I heard you talking to the waitress, making jokes. You sounded like a nice guy. You told her how your friend set you up, how excited you were. Then I heard you calling, saw you texting, and waiting and waiting and …"

“And you took pity on me,” Aziraphale says, embarrassment wearing a pit in his stomach.

“No, I was angry! I was angry that some dumb fuck got the chance to have a date with such a great seeming guy like you and he bailed. Opportunities like that don’t come by all the time and he threw his away. But I saw an opportunity and I took it. And no matter what you think about me now, I’m glad I did. Because you’re great. You’re really great. And I hope that you’ll forgive me and let me take you out on a real first date.”

The table becomes quiet again - Crowley watching Aziraphale, Aziraphale looking at his lap. The whole restaurant seems to have gone silent, as if everyone around them who has listened to them laugh and talk and watched them share their meal is waiting to see what Aziraphale is going to say. From somewhere off toward the kitchen door, Crowley thinks he sees a few of the waitresses peeking around a corner, watching their table a little too intensely.

“What else was a lie?” Aziraphale asks. “Everything you said over dinner, was any of that true?”

“All of it,” Crowley says. “Everything I said about living in Mayfair, owning a Bentley, taking a permanent gap year, working as a nanny for kicks, being an obnoxious trust fund baby, tormenting my friends with a rat army … here … wait …” Crowley opens his jacket and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He touches the screen, swipes it a few times, then hands it to Aziraphale. “Take a look. Granted I’ve only had this since the recent iPhone hit the bricks, but I’ve got a few pictures on it that should back me up. My Bentley, my flat, a few of my plants …” Crowley ticks photos off as Aziraphale flips through them. “There should even be one or two of the rats. Ligur sent them to me before he ran screaming.” Crowley snickers in such an off-handed way, Aziraphale can’t help believing him. And speak of the devil, next photo up is of a work station covered in black rats rooting through the works and apparently sending London skidding back to the dark ages.

Maybe Aziraphale just wants to believe him, but as far as he’s concerned, Crowley is telling the truth.

“I … I don’t know,” Aziraphale says, handing the phone back.

“What?” Crowley asks, his expression of newly kindled hope falling off his face. “What don’t you know?”

“Yes, you’re telling the truth, but …”

“But …”

“I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “But can I ask you a question?”

“I guess.”

“What did you know about Gabriel before you showed up here to meet him?”

“Well, I …” Aziraphale sits there with his mouth open, expecting words to come out that don’t exist, because he didn’t know anything about Gabriel. Not even what he looked like. Tracy told him that she showed Gabriel a picture of him, and that Gabriel would know him when he saw him. But other than that, all he had was Tracy’s assurance that they would work well together. In reality, Gabriel could have stopped by at some point, caught Aziraphale waiting for him, didn’t like what he saw, then turned around and left, and Aziraphale would have never known.

But Crowley on the other hand - Aziraphale has been talking to Crowley all through dinner. Provided he’s telling the truth, Aziraphale knows more about him than he does his best friend, and they used to room together.

“Okay,” he concedes. “You’ve got me. Alright, Crowley. Sure. I would love to go on a real first date with you.”

Crowley reaches his hand across the table and Aziraphale takes it, suddenly recalling the look in Reuben’s eye before he signaled for the check.

Crowley has a similar look.

He raises his hand for the check.

But after not seeing her for most of their meal, their waitress walks over and puts two glass flutes down. Then she pours each man a glass of champagne from a bottle Aziraphale is certain costs more than their meal.

“Uh, waitress?” Crowley calls to the woman before she can walk away.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s this?” he asks, perplexed by the sudden appearance of alcohol.

“It’s champagne,” she says, as if that isn’t apparent. “The house special.”

“But we didn’t order champagne” Aziraphale points out.

“I know,” she says with a wink. “It’s on the house. Enjoy it. Take all the time you need …”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable valentines #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

106 notes · View notes

asongofmarvelanddc · 5 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

PAIRING: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers X Reader

WORD COUNT: 1510

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: Steve hates Valentines Day.

A/N: This is a repost due to my blog being deleted, please reblog to signal boost!

Valentine's Day.

A day filled with love, red balloons and heart-shaped...well, everything. Even people who were single most of the year somehow had someone to spend this day with. With one exception of course- Steve Rogers.

For him, this was a dreaded day. A day filled with loved up people sharing milkshakes, whispering to each other in the movie theatres and laughing as they walked the streets. A day where even his best friend, Bucky, had not one, but two girls on his arm. A day where everyone received at least one love letter in the mail. Everyone but Steve.

With a sigh, Steve got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. After relieving himself and cleaning himself up, he headed to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. He was in no hurry to go and check his mail. In no hurry to go outside. Lucky for him, Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday this year, so he didn't have to go to work.

Unfortunately, he did have to meet up with Bucky and the day will consist of Bucky trying to find him a date. He would always eventually find him a date...the same one who will cling to Bucky the whole night. It was a painful circle, one that had not been broken since the two reached adolescence.

Steve sighed and put on his shoes and jacket before walking out of his apartment making sure to lock it behind him. When he reached the ground floor, he walked up to his mailbox and stared at it. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but it was very hard not to.

Maybe Carla from the other night enjoyed our date, he thought with a tilt of his head. Or maybe Joanna. She seemed to like the story I told her about my first day at work.

He didn't want to get his hopes up...but they already were. He took in a deep breath and opened the mailbox, pulling out all the letters in the process and shuffling through them quickly.

Bill. Bill. Notice. Admirer. Bi- Admirer?!

Steve immediately threw all the other letters back into the mailbox except the one. He smoothed his hand over the letter as he stared at it in awe. Never in a million years did he think his hopes would amount to anything this year.

The envelope was a dusty pink colour and on the back, in perfect handwriting, were the words: To Steve. From your Secret Admirer.

He smiled softly at that before turning the envelope to the front. He smiled again when he noticed that envelope was quite literally sealed with a kiss. As he opened the letter, he was hit with a wave of vanilla.

She sprayed the letter with perfume, he thought with a chuckle.

As he read the letter, his smile grew wider with every word until he was done. He looked over the letter one last time, the biggest grin etched onto his face.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching and immediately turned around.

This could be her now.

He held his breath until the woman came into view before letting it out. It was just his neighbour, and she was carrying a rather large basket in her arms.

"Good morning, Ma'am", he smiled to her and she dropped the basket on the first step of the stairs with a huff.

"Mornin', Mr Rogers", she smiled back at him and glanced to the dusty pink letter in his hands, "Got a hot date?". S

teve chuckled and glanced down to his feet before looking back up at her. "Yeah", he nodded, a light blush covering his cheeks, "You?".

She let out a little laugh before shrugging her shoulders. "It's Valentine's Day, of course I do!", she smiled excitedly, "Just did the laundry. I'm pretty sure I've found the dress.”

Steve smiled and gestured to the basket before saying, "I'm sure it'll knock the lucky guy's socks off.”

She smiled and held up crossed fingers before waving, "See you around, Steve!"

When she disappeared up the stairs, Steve looked back down at the letter with a smile. I have a date.

__________________________

“No. No. No. No. NO!”, Steve moaned as he ripped off his shirt and threw it on the floor. He grabbed two more shirts from the closet and walked to the living room.

Bucky looked up from his newspaper with a beer in his hand and two raised eyebrows. “What happened to you?” he asked as he tried and failed to stifle his laugh.

Steve held up the two shirts as he frantically asked, “Which one?”

Bucky laughed again and dropped the newspaper. “Steve, I already showed you what to wear”, he chuckled and sipped his beer, “You’re the one who took it off, and now you have ten minutes before you have to leave.”

“WHAT?!”Steve yelled in a panic which made Bucky laugh harder.

He stood up and placed his hands on his best friend’s shoulders. As he stared into Steve’s blue eyes, he said, “Calm down. Wear the clothes I picked out for you and put some cologne on.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but Bucky shook his head. “You’re gonna buy some flowers, and when you see her, you’ll tell her she looks gorgeous,” he smiled as he told him what to do.

Steve took in a deep breath and let it out before nodding his head. It was nice having a best friend who was as experienced as Bucky was, for situations like this.

“Alright. Alright,” Steve nodded as he whispered to himself words of encouragement, “I’m gonna be fine.”

__________________________

“Oh, I’m so not gonna be fine”, Steve sucked in a breath as he arrived at the park.

He knew he was meant to meet her on the bench by the first tree on the right. He couldn’t see anyone sitting on the bench and a sick feeling grew in his stomach.

Maybe she’s running late, he thought hopefully as he walked up to the bench and sat on it, twirling a single pink rose in his hand thoughtfully.

He had stopped at a flower shop to buy a bouquet of flowers, but the woman at the store advised him to buy a single flower rather than a bouquet.

"If you're meeting at the park, she'll have to carry the bouquet around everywhere," she had said before pointing him to some roses on display.

He opted for a pink rose after the lady said that a red rose might be a little too 'heavy-handed' for a first date with a secret admirer. His leg bounced nervously as he revised what he was going to say when his date arrived.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you", he muttered as he twirled the rose again, "You look beautiful."

"Would you two like to be left alone?" came a voice from behind Steve. He turned around as he stood up from the park bench, only to come face-to-face with his neighbour.

"Is that for me?"she asked and pointed to the rose in his hand. Steve glanced down to the rose and back to her with widened eyes.

It’s her.

"H-Hi,” he stuttered and handed her the rose while his eyes scanned her head to toe, "You look beautiful.”

She smiled and sniffed the rose happily before looking back at him. "Thank you, Steve,” she smiled brightly, "And thank you for the rose, it's beautiful."

Steve nodded his head slightly, but was unable to say anything else due to shock. "You sent me the letter?" he asked her and she nodded with what seemed to be pride, "So, earlier, when you mentioned the hot date?"

She nodded her head and glanced to her shoes then back to Steve. "I was talking about you", she giggled. Steve stared in awe at her; she was so cheerful and beautiful and kind...why did she want to be with him?

"Pardon me, but I have to ask..." he began which made her frown in confusion.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. She raised an eyebrow and chuckled when she realised he wasn't saying anything, "What is it?"

He stared at her curiously and watched how her eyes sparkled with excitement...and decided not to say anything. He didn't need to know why she wanted to go to with him, what mattered was that she wanted to.

Suddenly, he got a 'Bucky pep-talk' overload and a boost of confidence, so he smiled and shook his head, whispering, "Nothing."

He looked around the park before turning back to Y/N, "You wanna grab a milkshake?"

She smiled brightly and bit her lip softly as she nodded her head, "Lead the way, Mr Rogers". Steve's lips broke out into a grin as she took his hand with a bright smile gracing her lips.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.

#steve rogers #pre serum steve rogers #pre-serum steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve rogers x reader #pre-serum steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america the fist avenger #catfa

156 notes · View notes

taeheyhey · 5 years

Text

It’s Almost Definitely You

Taehyung x Reader, Jin x Reader - Childhood Friends to Lovers, Love Triangle (??) - Angst/Fluff 9.3K Words

Warnings - Alcohol use/some swearing

A/N - Happy V Day everyone! I've kind of sworn off summaries as I am really poor at it. Please give it a read, if you like angsty angst and fluffy fluff, I think you'll like it! Likes and reblogs always extremely appreciated, and a comment or a follow is the tastiest icing on the sweetest cake (idek anymore)! ILY ♥♥♥

The three of you had always been together, well, for as long as any of you cared to remember, and there didn’t seem to be a time you could easily recall where you had spent longer than a week not being in one another’s company.

You had grown up more or less on the same street, and you remembered always seeing Taehyung following Jin around on their bicycles – Taehyung’s with stabilisers and Jin's without. You would watch from your front porch with amusement as Jin would scold Taehyung for pestering him, while at the same time aggressively chasing anyone off who would pick on the younger boy for his constantly mucky appearance: an unfortunate side-effect from spending most of his time on his grandparent’s farm a short ways down the road.

It was an occasion very much like this that marked the beginning of your long friendship.

“Seokjinnie-hyung,” Taehyung had repeated over and over, holding a yellow ball that was almost a third of the size of him as high as he could over his head, until he finally succeeded in capturing the older boy’s attention.

“What is it, Taehyung-ah?” He whirled around on the spot, resting a hand at his hip and staring down impatiently as though he had important business to attend to and his progress was being impeded by this tiny nuisance.

To his credit, Taehyung had only looked startled at the abrupt response for a moment before standing on his tiptoes, a broad toothy grin stretching his face, to hold the ball further aloft. “Will Seokjinnie-hyung play catch with me?”

Jin had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with all the world-weariness of a middle-aged CEO, a gesture he had most likely witnessed his father performing on occasion. “I don’t want to play catch with you.”

Taehyung was about to open his mouth to protest when some of the other boys in the neighbourhood ran up behind him, plucking the yellow ball from his grasp and taking off at speed, laughing uproariously and moving much too quickly for the smaller boy’s short legs to be able to close the distance.

As soon as he saw Taehyung’s bottom lip begin to wobble, Jin took up chase after the group of boys, who were now fast approaching the end of the driveway in front of your house. “Ya! Why would you do that,” he shouted after them, his legs propelling him forward as fast as they were able. “He’s only a little bo–”

Before he was able to catch up or even complete his sentence, he took a tumble over an uneven paving stone and fell to the ground. Seeing that the group of bullies were about to get too far away for anyone to retrieve the ball, you left the small selection of toys you were playing with and ran to the end of your drive in time to stick out your foot to trip over the boy carrying the ball.

The ball fell from his grip as he stuck out his hands to break his fall and bounced along the road a few times before rolling to a stop. You walked over to it and hooked it beneath your arm, sticking out your chin defiantly to the other boys in the group as they approached you.

“Give it back,” said a boy in a green and yellow striped t-shirt, stepping close enough that you could feel his breath rippling through the front of your hair.

“It’s not yours,” you retorted, unaffected by what you assumed was an attempt at being threatening.

“Give it back stupid, it’s not yours either,” contributed another in blue flannel.

By this point Taehyung had managed to catch up and stood in front of you, puffing out his chest in a display of heroism even though he was a head shorter than everyone there, including you. “You shouldn’t call girls names like that. Only scared boys pick on girls.”

As their apparent ringleader picked himself up from the ground, examining his freshly grazed elbow and rapidly bruising shin from it's unfortunate collision with your foot, he beckoned the group away. “Come on, it’s not worth it. It’s only a stupid ball,” he said pointedly while eyeballing you over the top of Taehyung’s head.

You handed the ball back to Taehyung as you watched the group’s retreat, and he relaxed his stance and smiled goofily up at you in gratitude, his eyes huge and still a little watery from his earlier upset, the two of you standing in total silence until you heard soft sniffling sounds from somewhere thirty feet or so behind you.

You both turned to find Jin sat on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest, closely examining a tear in his pants at the bend of his leg, and the small but seemingly constant trickle of blood which was staining the freshly frayed threads.

“Jin-hyung!” Taehyung gasped and rushed over to him, dropping the very ball which had been the cause of the commotion in the process. You followed at a slightly more leisurely pace, reaching in to your pocket for a clean tissue, for once being grateful for your seasonal allergies which were usually nothing but an inconvenience.

“It’s okay Taehyung,” Jin was waving the younger boy away as you crouched beside him. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve before eyeing you cautiously through his fringe. “It’s only because I ripped my pants,” he insisted, gesturing towards the tear at his knee. “It didn’t hurt or anything.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, handing him the tissue so he could clean some of the blood away. “You need a bandage? I can get one for you...”

He shook his head and his brow furrowed and you could tell he was ashamed at being fussed over by a boy three years younger than him and a girl he didn’t know, his ears flushing a rich shade of pink before he looked up at you properly for the first time.

Wow.

Suddenly it hit you like a punch to the gut. So that’s what all the musicians are singing about in their songs. This is what getting a crush felt like. You wondered if he could see the blood rush to your cheeks in the same way you could see the embarrassed blush deepening in his.

Your childhood crush on Kim Seokjin would develop in to unrequited infatuation as the years passed, and at the same time the friendship between the three of you blossomed until you were near-inseparable.

You didn’t see one another at school. Aside from the difference in your ages, Jin attended the fancy boys-only school one town over, an establishment Taehyung’s family couldn’t afford; and you weren’t exactly eligible for.

What you lacked in days you made up for in hours, and you would spend dawn until dusk with one another at the weekends. During breaks in school you would often see more of each other than you saw of your own families.

Once Taehyung had finally reached his twenties, and the three of you had long since moved on from playing catch with the yellow ball or tag or hide and seek, you were now navigating the somewhat tricky area of being close friends with a young man that you – as well as many other girls – had a thing for.

You kept it to yourself as well as you were able, although you knew Taehyung must have caught you slipping on occasion; a sigh here and a flustered stammer there; but it was becoming more and more difficult to maintain your illusion of indifference to him as a man rather than as a friend. It became harder still as the number of girls wishing to shower him in attention began to increase exponentially as the years passed. It was an oft-discussed (although usually brought up by Jin himself) fact that by the time he had reached his final year of high school, he had somehow managed to receive ten Valentine’s Day gifts his despite his attendance of a single-sex school.

If Taehyung had indeed noticed your persistent infatuation, he had the good grace not to mention it. If things had been the other way around you were sure that Jin would have teased you mercilessly. Instead, Taehyung would listen to you consistently find fault in the seemingly endless stream of girls that Jin would date, even joining in on occasion when it seemed he noticed you were particularly perturbed by it.

While you were spending an awful lot of energy trying to not be intimidated or irritated by the plethora of girls continuously asking you for advice on how to “get” Jin, you were entirely oblivious to the long-standing plight of Taehyung.

~~~

Little did you know that on that fateful day that marked the start of your enduring friendship group of three, Taehyung had been regarding you in very much the same way that you were looking at Jin, suddenly hit by the sudden pang of attraction for the first time and not quite understanding why all at once he was overwhelmed by the want to hold your hand while simultaneously resisting the urge to pull at your ponytail before running away giggling.

Taehyung had always concealed his affections a great deal more effectively than you over the years, choosing to write poems and stories in an attempt to deal with his feelings in a constructive way, a tattered notebook perpetually by his side and a chewed pen in his pocket should the need to vent his angst over take him at any moment. He prided himself on his ability to internalise his feelings for you – particularly now as you sat together on the same small couch, your feet tucked beneath his thighs – and turn them in to something beautiful.

In my cracked heart your cold sighs Like a slowly withering flower fall onto my heart

A more level-headed person might have distanced himself from you over time, but as much as it pained him to watch you pine over Jin when you thought no one was looking, your friendship was far too important to him to give it up just to save himself a little heartache.

Besides, the likelihood of you and Jin pairing off was slim to none. Jin enjoyed attention in quantity rather than quality and he had no difficulty in that department, especially since he had grown out of his - annoyingly brief - awkward teen years and in to his early twenties.

“Ya! Taehyung-ah!” Jin’s voice broke through the silence in the room, as oblivious to your eyes burning holes in to the back of his head as you were to Taehyung frequently glancing in your direction as he struggled to choose his next written words, the sudden exclamation and characteristic wild gesturing startling you both out of your respective reveries. “Y/N and I have been sat here with empty glasses for over half an hour now, and you call yourself a friend? It’s your turn to host movie night and apart from putting out bowls of snacks – which are clearly out of date I might add – you haven’t really done anything but sit there and scribble! What do you even write in there anyway?”

Jin was prone to rant from time to time, and there was never really any venom in it – it was just one of his many quirks. He didn’t really show that side of himself to any of the girls he dated, silly-Jin was for your’s and Taehyung’s eyes only.

Taehyung closed his notebook protectively and shoved his pen in to the back pocket of his jeans clasping the pages shut so that it would be inaccessible to prying eyes as he rose to fetch more red wine. “First of all, is there something wrong with your legs that you’d be sitting there thirsty when you’re sat closest to the kitchen? Secondly,” he continued loudly, raising one finger in the air to halt Jin's protestations. “I’m fairly sure it’s your turn to host movie night but you bailed on us at the last minute last week so you could go on a date with that girl from your building,” he flicked his eyes over to you in time to see you glance at the floor, your facade slipping for just a moment and he felt his heart clench for you and for himself. “Lastly, eldest or not, you wouldn’t be able to grasp the complex nature of the things I write in here,” he concluded, holding the tattered pages up to one side. “I once saw you get confused by the TV guide.”

Jin sat slack-jawed at the younger man’s tirade, unable to speak for a few minutes, the only sounds filling the room being the DVD menu music playing in a loop and your soft snickering at Jin’s dismay.

“Ya!” Jin finally managed, turning to you in faux-outrage. “Can you believe this punk Y/N, speaking to his hyung this way? Would you stand for that kind of disrespect?”

You shifted in your seat to place your feet on the floor and stood upright, rotating your ankles to regain feeling in your lower limbs having been sat stationary basking in Taehyung’s body warmth for so long. “I’ll just go and get us all a top up shall I? You two tire me out honestly,” you chided them good naturedly, rolling your eyes dramatically at Jin and offering Taehyung a wink.

His cheeks reddened as they tended to do when you were playful with him, his eyes following you out of the room and lingering on the kitchen door long after you had passed through it and out of sight. He wasn’t really aware of the long sigh that left him until he found Jin frowning at him.

“What’s going on with you? What are you huffing at?” He flicked his attention between the empty doorway and Taehyung’s startled face.

He corrected himself and shook his head emphatically. “Nothing hyung, just...um,” he scrabbled around in his head for a reasonable excuse. “It’s just been a while since I had to bail on anyone so that I could go on a date.”

It wasn’t a lie. He genuinely couldn’t remember how long it had been since he last went on a date, not that he was bothered, but Jin didn’t need to know that.

A broad smile stretched across Jin’s face and crinkled up his eyes. “Well, my clueless dongsaeng,” he began in the tone he liked to employ when he thought he was being worldly-wise. “It just so happens that my boss is throwing a house party next weekend. I work with a lot of girls. Most of whom are single and,” he waggled his eyebrows “some of which I haven’t been out with. Yet.”

Taehyung raised a sceptical eyebrow in response. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t really think it’s my thing.”

“How can it not be your thing? Come on, it’ll be fun. Y/N will come,” he turned to the kitchen door as he heard you re-entering the room, an un-opened bottle of wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. “Won’t you, Y/N?”

~~~

Unable to ever really say no to Jin, you nodded without knowing what it was you were agreeing to. “Um, sure... Where are we going?”

“You’ve just signed yourself up to one of Jin-hyung’s colleague’s house parties,” Taehyung informed you in a consolatory tone, both of you being all too aware of the kind of people that Jin worked with.

Jin opened the bottle with a pop and launched the cork at the younger man. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, you seriously need to find yourself a girl Taehyung-ie. Isn’t that right Y/N?”

You hesitated, finding Taehyung’s big brown eyes fixed on yours as though waiting for your answer with baited breath, the intensity in his gaze preventing you from speaking for a moment. “I guess so,” you finally answered, your voice quieter than you intended, wondering why the sudden downward cast of the younger man’s eyes at your response made you feel strange.

Of course you wanted Taehyung to meet someone who made him happy. He was hands down the loveliest person you knew, and the years had been kind to him, transforming him from a gawky, gangly adolescent in to an almost ethereal-like being. If Jin was the epitome of handsome – and he definitely was – Taehyung was the perfect encapsulation of male beauty, and you weren’t entirely convinced that he would meet someone worthy of him at one of Jin’s other friend’s gatherings.

“Thanks for that glowing endorsement, y/n.” Jin's sarcasm cut in to your thoughts. He turned his attention back to Taehyung. “Look, just come okay? I’m not saying I’ll find you a wife but I can at least get you laid. Ooh, I’m sure Sarah said she was going to be there. Sarah is hot.”

The thought made you nauseous all of a sudden. Surely Taehyung wouldn’t be in to just a quick lay would he? He was sensitive and sweet and an entirely different breed to the idiots who went to parties with the sole intention of scoring a hook-up. You found yourself meeting his eyes once more, with what looked to be a hundred unasked questions on his lips. You plastered a smile to your face as quickly as you could before he could open his mouth to speak, chastising yourself as you began tidying up some of the debris from the snacks to avoid any more meaningful eye contact with anyone. He was a grown man and he was entirely capable of making his own decisions, what did it have to do with you?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You rationalised that it was just strange to you, the thought of him with a girlfriend, the two of you had been more or less joined at the hip for years now. Whenever Jin was away with work or on some big family trip or even off somewhere unknowingly breaking your heart, Taehyung was by your side. A constant source of humour and comfort, always on hand with a hug or a silly joke to lift your spirits should you need it, you were worried that you might not see your best friend as much. Yes, that was all it was.

You continued to try and convince yourself that that was indeed the case for the rest of the night, long in to the next week and, with the house party looming on the horizon, by the end of the week you almost believed it.

By the time Saturday had rolled around your trepidation about the upcoming social event had mutated in to all out dread. You kept playing potential scenarios over and over again in your head, most of which involved you left alone – gooseberry-like – as various beautiful girls vied for Jin or Taehyung’s attention. It was perplexing to you that you weren’t sure which of those two possibilities were the most upsetting.

You found yourself reliving your interactions with Taehyung over the past few months, every exchange being trawled though in your memory for any thing you may have missed. Any lingering glances or throw away comments, easy to disregard without the memory of his eyes on yours that night as Jin tried to convince him he needed to try and meet a girl.

A shiver would run through you each time you thought about the look on his face as he awaited your response, and as you stepped in to the party – a box of wine you had been trying to get rid of for ages under one arm – you avoided looking at him directly, the way one is supposed to avoid looking at the sun in an eclipse, just in case your face gave you away.

“You don’t really want to do this do you?” he asked, nudging his shoulder in to your arm amicably as though he was trying to jostle you back in to the present.

You laughed nervously and rubbed at the spot on your arm where he had touched you with your free hand, wondering if the house was too warm or if it was just our body reacting wildly to the most platonic of touches. “Not particularly,” you answered weakly as you made your way through to the kitchen to dump the drinks you had brought. “What about you?”

He pulled a plastic cup from the tower by the side if the refrigerator and filled it halfway with the box wine, before offering it to you and grabbing one for himself as he spoke. “Do I want to be here? Not exactly, but this should get Jin-hyung off my back for the next couple of months, and at least we get to go through it together, right?”

You laughed feebly and took a big swig of your drink. Why was your throat so dry? “What about Jin’s promise to 'get you laid'?” You made air quotes with your fingers, almost certain your tone was not as casual as you had intended. The strange look on Taehyung's face confirmed your suspicion and you took a deep breath to try to calm your fraying nerves.

He looked around the room and shook his head. “You know better than anyone else that’s not really my thing. I can’t just...jump in to bed with anyone. I need to get know them first and see if we have things in common,” he sipped at his wine and his brows knitted together as he tried to decide what he wanted to say. “I don’t know, I guess I need to...” he trailed off.

“Be friends first?” You finished for him, the words a hopeful question on your lips. You cringed inwardly. What exactly were you trying to achieve?

The silence stretched out between the two of you and it was a few seconds before you refocused your vision to find Taehyung’s eyes intent on you. He made a small hum of agreement as you continued to stare up at him, only just realising how close the cramped corner of the crowded kitchen was forcing you to be. Were you just imagining him moving closer?

He opened his mouth to speak but, before he was able to form the words, a moderately tipsy Jin chose that moment to barge in to the room, knocking over the column of plastic cups in the process, more out of sheer enthusiasm than inebriation. He had a slight grimace on his face and a half chewed lime in his right hand, and you knew instantly he was about three tequila shots down. He crouched down in front of you both to retrieve the plastic from the floor, muttering something about his shoulders being both a blessing and a curse, before rearranging the cups on the counter behind Taehyung.

“My friends!” Jin announced loudly, attracting the attention of everyone in a twenty foot radius, stretching his arms out in front of him to envelop you both in an enthusiastic bear hug.

Even in your emotional turmoil you were incapable of resisting Jin at his most exuberant, holding your drink aloft with one hand and hugging him back with your free arm. “You having fun, Jin?” You managed after regaining the breath he had squeezed from you.

He slapped Taehyung jocularly on the arm while kissing you on the forehead with a loud 'mwah', and you weren’t sure if the hurt look on the younger man’s face was due to the impact on his arm or the involuntary giggle that left you at Jin’s attention. Your gut told you it was the latter but your head tried it’s hardest to convince you otherwise.

“Now that you are both here, I am having even more fun,” he enthused, draping an arm around each of you and leading you both from the kitchen and in to the lounge . “Sarah,” he shouted across the room, beckoning a very pretty girl over with the arm that still rested at Taehyung's shoulder. “This is the guy I was telling you about,” he declared once she arrived before the three of you, tapping the younger man’s chest before turning to him. “This is Sarah, she just started working with me,” he began to push Taehyung towards her. “She’s not been in town that long, why don’t you tell her about it?”

Taehyung looked at you helplessly, and you quickly fixed your face in to a smile and unfurrowed your brow, hoping that he couldn’t see the disappointment in your eyes as Sarah pulled him away in to the much quieter dining room. You found you could just about see where they were sitting through a small gap in the doorway before Jin drew your attention to a small group of people he had been talking with before he found you and Taehyung in the kitchen.

“Everyone,” he announced, waving his arms around to draw everyone around him, settling his arm around you as he waited for all eyes to be on him. “This is my very best friend, Y/N, isn’t she pretty?”

You smiled as sincerely as you were able to their murmurs of agreement and welcoming hugs and introductions, trying to look around each of their forms as they leant in in turn, so you could maintain line of sight to the dining room. There would have been a time in the not too distant past where Jin calling you pretty would have caused blood to rush to your face and for your tongue to feel swollen in your mouth, rendering you incapable of speech until you had the opportunity to talk yourself down from the dizzying heights brought on by Jin’s flattery. Now your focus was set entirely on a completely different room; on a completely different friend.

You drained your cup and as if by magic another one appeared in front of you, courtesy of Jin. Again, you were sure that previously you would have read some vague romantic intention in to the gesture, rather than your friend trying to get you to enjoy yourself, but there had been an almost imperceptible shift since that night a week ago at Taehyung’s, and all you could think about was what might have been said had Jin not chosen that precise moment to burst in to the kitchen. Probably nothing.

You were annoyed with yourself. Were you really that fickle that you’d just forget about the last two-decades worth of brooding over Jin at the slightest inference that Taehyung might feel something other than mere friendship to you? Also, what brand of absolute moron were you that you would catch feelings for your two closest friends? Was it just because you rarely spent time with anyone else?

With that in mind, you shook yourself from your useless speculation and re-focused your attention on the conversation happening around you.

“...so I said to him, if that’s the best you can do – and I don’t really think it is – you can forget it. So I went to their competitor across town and got it for about five grand less.” The man finished speaking and looked you expectantly.

You blinked rapidly as you tried to work out what an appropriate response might be. You began to vocalise some generic congratulatory platitude but were thankfully rescued by a tall, good-looking man you believed had introduced himself as the owner of the house.

“And you still paid about twenty grand too much for it,” he retorted, and you laughed lightly along with him, hoping that it signalled the end of that exchange. “I’m sorry,” he directed towards you. “Half the time most of the people here have no idea that they're being boring. Drink?” he asked, gesturing towards your empty cup.

When had you finished that? You smiled, nodding gratefully as he made his way to the kitchen, feeling mild alarm as your vision was slow to catch up with the movement of your head. How many drinks had you put away? You hadn’t felt all that drunk until then.

You turned your attention to the small gap to the dining room just in time to get a glimpse of Taehyung’s broad smile as Sarah threw her head back laughing at something he had said. He looked so happy. You reached over to the tequila bottle in Jin’s hand, snatching it from his grasp and waving it in the air.

“Where are the shot glasses?”

~~~

It was weird for Jin to see you let loose like this, and for the first three shots he had been whooping and cheering along with everyone else, but after you messily poured a fourth and began to rock backwards and forwards unsteadily he – despite his own drunkenness – decided he needed to help you rein it in.

He thought about what Taehyung would do if he was here watching these events unfold. He would most likely fetch you a large glass of water and take you somewhere quiet to sit down, letting you nap on his shoulder if you needed to until you were in a fit state to go home. Despite being the youngest of the three of you, he was often surprisingly level-headed and had a prevailing tendency to care for others before considering his own comfort, especially when it came to you.

As he saw his boss lazily drape an arm around your shoulders as he passed you a wedge of lime, Jin panicked and flicked his eyes over to the doorway to the dining room, automatically seeking out Taehyung to enlist his help. Finding the chairs he and Sarah had previously occupied empty, Jin realised he was being selfish.

Jin was fairly certain he had never actually seen Taehyung drunk, he’d certainly never seen him flirting with a girl, he would normally be found giggling with you in a corner somewhere. No, Jin was resolute, he would be the responsible friend for once and take care of you.

He made his way in to the kitchen to find the tower of clean plastic cups had long since been used up, so he located the least offensive looking unattended cup, rinsing it out before filling it with water, trying not to think too hard about what had been in there prior to him picking it up.

Back in the living room, he stepped between you and his boss – not overly-enamoured with the way he was looking at you – and replaced the shot glass in your hand with the water before steering you towards the front door.

“Come on Y/N,” he said soothingly, pulling you close to his side to manoeuvre through the small crowds of people scattered throughout the house. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

You didn’t protest in anyway, and it didn’t take long before Jin had sat you down on a low wall in the front garden, sitting beside you and rubbing his hands uselessly on his thighs as he tried to figure out what he should do next.

“Why did you pull me away from...that guy?” Your words were slurring a little, and Jin felt bad for not getting you outside sooner.

“Yeah you must be devastated about it,” he began and lifted your hand that was holding the water towards your mouth. “Especially seeing as you can’t remember his name.”

You stuck your tongue out petulantly at him before taking a drink of water. “He was pretty,” you pouted, before frowning and looking up at him again. You spoke quietly. “You said I was pretty.”

He chuckled as he looked down at you. You looked so cute he couldn’t resist pulling you close to him and dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You are pretty,” he reassured you, squeezing his arm around you.

You wriggled out of his hold. “Not hot though. Not hot like Sarah,” you spat bitterly, much to Jin's confusion. Apparently not noticing his questioning look, you took another swig of water and giggled to yourself before turning to swing one leg over the wall to sit facing him. You poked at his ribs playfully. “Not hot like Seokjinnie.” The words were sing-song as you carried on attacking his midsection with little prods of your fingers, tickling him until he writhed and shifted to catch your hands before you made him fall off the wall.

“Ya, Y/N! What’s gotten in to you?” He kept a hold of your hands even after you had stopped struggling to carry on your teasing. “Apart from a third of a bottle of tequila,” he thought aloud.

You blinked slowly, looking at where Jin's hands surrounded yours, almost invisible in his grip. "What? You are! You’re hot and Sarah’s hot,” you threw your hands in the air in the manner of someone who no longer knew up from down, “suddenly Taehyung is hot...” Your tone was jocular, but there was something lacing your words – just beneath the surface – that caused Jin to examine your face more carefully.

He said nothing as you inhaled deeply to regulate your breathing after your tirade. Your eyes were fixed on him as your chest heaved and he felt a weird jolt shoot through him as your focus flickered down to his lips.

Jin had always thought you were pretty. Even from that first day when you held that tissue out to him, he thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Had he ever thought about you in that way? Sure, once or twice. He was only human. But you were his dearest friend, you and Taehyung meant the absolute world to him, and – as much as his reputation may suggest otherwise – some things were more important to him than a quick lay with a girl he found attractive.

But you had never made a move on him – oh god was that what was happening now? – and you were suddenly licking your lips and moving closer to him, and the alcohol and his hormones were at odds with his morals and he could do nothing except sit there frozen as he felt your mouth press to his.

Having absolutely no idea what to do with them, his hands stayed awkwardly by his side, too scared to touch you. He would have been lying if he denied the arousal that was coursing through him, even at your lips moving clumsily against his, but as he felt you move your hand to lean on his shoulder to steady yourself, Jin came to his senses.

He couldn’t do this.

He finally lifted his hands with the intention of pushing you gently away but, before he was able to make contact, an unseen force pulled him backwards off the wall and his back hit the ground, knocking the wind out of him for a moment.

“You selfish prick!”

Jin recognised the voice instantly and stood upright as quickly as he was able to find a seething Taehyung glaring at him. “What are –”

Taehyung cut him off, more upset than Jin had ever seen him. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He brushed the dirt off his shirt and stepped towards Taehyung cautiously, looking around him in time to see a small crowd that had gathered quickly at the raised voices, and to see Sarah pulling you to stand away from the two men. “Taehyung it isn’t what you think,” he trying to place a placatory hand on his shoulder. “There’s been too much drinking and –”

“Not what I think?” His voice cracked a little and he deflected Jin’s hand away with a violent shrug of his shoulder. “So my two best friends aren’t suddenly making out out of nowhere?” His voice weakened as he moved backwards, his expression one of sheer betrayal. “You promised, hyung. We promised. We said we’d never let feelings or anything get in the way,” he roughly wiped away a tear that was threatening to spill on to his reddening cheeks. “It’s been nearly twenty years, hyung. Why now?”

Jin spread his hands out uselessly in front of him. “I don’t know what to say, Taehyung-ah,” and he really didn’t. Jin had never struggled to talk his way out of anything in his whole life, and he felt both relieved and guilty when he heard your small voice from somewhere behind him.

“It was me, Taehyung. I kissed him, he didn’t... Please don’t blame Jin.”

The younger man let out a deep breath, and it looked almost as though he was deflating. He didn’t meet your eyes, but he softened considerably when he spoke to you. “You don’t need to defend him, Y/N,” he looked down at the ground before continuing, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I know how you feel about him... I’ve always known.”

Jin whipped his head round to look at you, just in time to see the mortified look on your face as Sarah kept a protective arm around you. “What is he talking about?”

Before you were forced to formulate a response, Taehyung laughed bitterly. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I guess I broke the promise first.”

~~~

What promise?

You stood frozen in place as Taehyung walked past Jin without looking at him, closing the distance between the two of you. Much to your confusion and dismay it was Sarah he spoke to.

“I’m really sorry about tonight,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, something you knew he did when he was embarrassed. Then, by way of explanation: “I don’t normally drink.”

“I kind of gathered that,” she retorted good-naturedly. “I’ll get her a cab, don’t worry.” She added as he chewed his lip, not really knowing what to do next.

He smiled gratefully at her before looking at you for the first time since the altercation between your two best friends took place. “Y/N, I...” he trailed off before heaving a heavy sigh. Apparently unable to find the right words he curled his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulled you towards him, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you to him. After a few moments he released his hold on you, stroking his hand down to caress your cheek, meeting your eyes intensely before sighing again and walking to the end of the garden, down the street, and away from you.

It was over a week until you heard from either of them again, the longest period of time since your friendship began all those years ago. You didn’t want to be the first to call, you didn’t even know if they would want to speak to you, and you were too scared of being rejected by the two most important people in your life.

You had spent an awful lot of the day pottering about at home, trying to work out what on earth had possessed you to kiss Jin. You eventually surmised that the realisation of your feelings for Taehyung had freaked you out to such an extent that you had decided to confront your attraction to Jin in an attempt to call your own bluff.

It wasn’t a flawless hypothesis, but it would do until you came up with something better.

You poured yourself a bowl of cereal and a cup of instant coffee and sat at your kitchen table for what felt like the thousandth time that week, wracking your brain as you relived that night at the house party over and over again, despite how utterly humiliating it may have been to relive the events of that night.

You were relieved – and not entirely surprised – that Jin had rebuffed your advances, in all the years you had been infatuated with him you had never outwardly done anything to reveal the truth of your more-than-friendly feelings towards him. You knew it was pointless. You never expected, or really truly wanted, things to progress in that way with Jin. He was too aloof, too fickle, and honestly too in love with himself to make room for anyone else in his life romantically.

That’s not to say that you considered that to be a bad thing, on the contrary, it was one of the many things you had always found so damn appealing about him. Either way you had always resolved to keep your feelings to yourself.

Except that Taehyung had noticed.

I’ve always known.

Why was it so much more upsetting to you that Taehyung knew about it? Surely your mortification should stem from Jin finding out the truth, but no. The look on Taehyung’s face after he saw you kissing Jin was more painful than you ever could have imagined, in much the same way that the thought of him spending the night with Sarah was so much more devastating than the multitude of girls that Jin would take home.

You knew Taehyung wasn’t going to be single forever, it was an absolutely ludicrous thought. He was handsome and kind and funny, and you always certain that the moment he decided he liked someone then that would be it. There was simply no way that any sane person would turn him down.

But – if you were completely honest with yourself – whenever you pictured Taehyung in the future, happy and settled in a relationship, you had always been entirely incapable of imagining anyone other than you at his side.

You pushed your half-empty mug away and rested your head in your hands, groaning loudly as you tried to work out how on earth you were going to tidy up the mess you had made. Just as you were about to fall headlong in to another session of self-loathing, a loud knock at your door startled you back in to the present.

You cursorily checked your appearance in the mirror by the door and shrugged to your reflection, unsurprised to find you looked about as good as you felt. You looked through the peephole to find Jin standing too close to the door, making his cheeks appear ludicrously chubby through the glass, a huge grin on his plump lips.

You snorted despite yourself and cautiously opened the door, just barely enough to peer out without displaying the birds nest that was your hair and the off-white and stained baggy t-shirt that was your current attempt at loungewear.

He’d certainly seen you in worse states, however there was an underlying urge to retain even the smallest amount of dignity given that the last the you saw him you tried to stick your tongue down his throat.

He looked down at you through the small gap and greeted you warmly. “Y/N! Where have you been? You look delightful as usual.”

You rolled your eyes at him, even though you were smiling sheepishly in greeting. “Hi Jin. I’ve just been...” you loosened your grip on the door and allowed it to open a touch more, “...here.”

You watched as he curled his fingers around the door. “I’m going to come in and give you a hug, okay?”

You said nothing but stepped back, letting him push the door open fully and step over the threshold, remaining motionless as he pulled you in to his embrace. You felt tears spring to your eyes as he held you against his broad chest, rubbing soothing circles across your back.

He kicked the door closed behind him and led you to the sofa, sitting you down gently and dabbing at your face with a tissue he produced from his jacket pocket. The gesture reminded you of the day you had all become friends, and the memory made you cry harder.

“I’m. So. Sorry. Jin.” You managed between the sobs that were suddenly wracking your chest, leaning in to him, immeasurably thankful for the warmth of his presence after missing your friends so much.

He said nothing but continued to stroke your back and make calming sounds until your breathing returned to normal and the flow of tears dissipated. He waited until you had settled before speaking.

“I mean when you think about it, you really have nothing to apologise for.” You looked at him questioningly. “You’re only human, Y/N. It’s only natural for you to be powerless to resist my charms,” he shrugged. You scowled at him and pulled a cushion from behind you to hit him with. He lifted his protectively arms over his head. “Ya, mind my handsome face!”

You kept attacking him with the cushion until you were out of breath once more, smiling at him gratefully. “Actually I said you were hot,” you corrected him, feeling consoled enough to laugh at yourself.

“Ah, of course. Hot,” he smirked, nodding in agreement for a second before regarding you seriously. “You also said Taehyung was hot. Do you want to talk about that?”

“Do I have to?” You began picking at the fabric on the arm of the sofa nervously.

“Not at all,” he paused to let you reconsider before continuing. “Seems suspicious though. You start talking about Taehyung being hot for the first time and suddenly decide you can resist me no longer.” He rubbed his chin in a theatrical display. “Hmm, could just be a coincidence though.”

You exhaled wearily and rubbed a hand over your face. “You’re really gonna make me do this, huh?”

“I think it’s the least you can do after ruining my chance of going home with anyone after the party.” Two weeks or so ago, such a flippant reference to Jin's love life might have induced a little more of an envious response from you. As it was you simply longed for Taehyung to be there with you to poke fun at his cocky bravado as you usually did together.

“It was when you started talking about setting him up with someone at that party. It just...occurred to me that I’d never had to deal with him dating anyone before. It sort of...freaked me out. Then Sarah –”

“Hot Sarah,” Jin interjected, always trying to keep the mood light.

“Hot Sarah,” you corrected yourself with a wry smile at Jin. “Well, that was part of the problem. He has no idea how much of a catch he is. If Hot Sarah decided she liked him – and why on earth wouldn’t she? – then...” you examined your fingers continuing to pick fluff from the sofa with a fierce level of concentration to try and will away the burning behind your eyes. “Then I’d lose him. And I think that...” You sniffed and looked at Jin, who looked so worried about you that you could no longer stop the tears from brimming over and on to your cheeks. “Oh god, Jin I think I might...” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were still so ashamed and confused and - honestly surprised - by the truth of your feelings.

“Why don’t you go and tell him that?” He was so flippant in his suggestion.

You huffed at him, wishing that he understood that not everyone had his confidence. “I doubt he’d want to see me after...everything.”

“Don’t you think you should let him decide that for himself?”

You rose from your seat and began to walk back and forth across the floor, desperate for somewhere to put the nervous energy that Jin was instilling in you with his persistence. “What, just turn up and say, ‘oh hi, Taehyung, you know how we’ve been friends for years? Well I’ve suddenly realised that I might be in love with you. What? Oh yeah I know I kissed our best friend but - honestly, you’ll laugh when I tell you this - that was really just because I was struggling to accept my true feelings for you’?”

“Why not?” If he was surprised by your proclamation that you were potentially in love with Taehyung he didn’t show it.

You were beginning to lose your composure. Didn’t he come here to make you feel better? “Ugh, I can’t see that ending well for anyone can you?”

“I don’t see why not. Oh,” he continued, changing his tone as though moving on to a different topic, possibly because he could see your patience wearing thin. “I spoke with Sarah by the way.”

The sudden shift confused you, and you stopped pacing around the room and looked at him. “Okay?” You huffed and waited for the relevance of the information. “Well, did she like him?”

“Oh yeah, she liked him well enough. Well, except for one small thing,” he examined his nails as casually as though he was telling you the weather forecast.

“What?”

He levelled his gaze at you. “He spent the whole night talking about you.”

~~~

This damn love, Because of you I can’t move even if I’m hurt Even if I die, It’s only you Without you, tears fill up my heart

Taehyung looked back over the words he had written and wondered if his poetry had always been so...intense. He supposed that when it came to you he had always tended towards the melodramatic.

That night at the party he had decided to go outside and get some air after realising that he had drunk far too much. He was always so careful, particularly around you, where alcohol was involved. He could never be sure if he would let slip his feelings if he drunkenly let his guard down, but he had seen that boss of Jin's all over you like a rash he couldn’t resist the promise of oblivion.

Had he imagined the way you had looked at him the night that Jin had invited you both to the party? He had almost tried to kiss you himself when the two of you had arrived and were alone in the kitchen, and you had definitely not moved away. Or had you? Was he misremembering the events to fit in with his fantasies of you and him together?

As upset as he had been with Jin, he was far more irritated with himself. Wasn’t it totally hypocritical of him to fight with Jin for kissing you when he had nearly done the very same thing some hours before? He had always been fully aware how you felt about Jin, he couldn’t very well justify yelling at his friend in the middle of the street for succeeding where he had failed, accusing him of breaking a promise that Taehyung himself had long since broken.

Once you had made it through to your late teens, you had blossomed in to a beautiful young woman. Now, Taehyung had always seen you that way, but by then Jin was beginning to see it too and – knowing how you felt about his hyung – it made Taehyung uneasy. He selfishly decided to make a pact with Jin. They had to promise that they would never act on their attraction to you no matter what; that the friendship was far more important than silly teenage crushes. They even pinkie-swore, even though the childish gesture had made Jin tut and roll his eyes.

He knew the ‘pact’ served his purposes a great deal more than protecting the friendship per se, but he never thought anyone would act on their attraction, not really. He always thought you would continue to hide your feelings for Jin in very much the same way he concealed his feelings from you. The possibility of you getting tired of just waiting to move on and deciding to pursue what you wanted had never really factored in to the potential outcomes Taehyung had managed to come up with. He figured that once he had gotten over the hurt he might even be impressed with your bravery.

He had wanted you for so long that he had just gotten used to living with that empty feeling in his gut that he would never get to have you, he just assumed – hoped – that one day he would get over it, that he would meet someone else and they would take your place as the object of his affection, the muse for his poems.

There came an anxious rapping at the door as he looked down at the last words he had written.

I can’t let go.

He padded over to the door with zero enthusiasm and pulled it ajar without checking who was on the other side. He froze as he found you staring up at him, nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

“Y/N,” he said dumbly. “I was going to call you...” He trailed off, not really sure how to explain away his lack of contact.

“Can I come in?” You asked hopefully. He stood to one side and let you enter. “Taehyung, I really –”

“Please don’t, okay?” He pushed the door shut and leant his weight against it. You looked so good, how was it fair that you looked so good when he felt so...awful? “Please can we just pretend, just for a little while, that everything is fine, and we’ll go back to being friends just like before?”

You chewed on your lip and said nothing for a few seconds, the silence deafening to him as he held his breath and waited for you to break his heart. Your eyes were glued to the floor as you spoke. “What if that isn’t what I want?”

“What do you mean? Look, I’m sorry for what happened,” he pleaded with you, pushing himself away from the door and striding over to you. He took both of your hands in to his and dipped his head so he could meet your gaze. He grasped for the right words. “I know I should have called and explained properly. It’s been so hard for me to...” He blew out a shaky breath and licked his lips nervously.

“Taehyung,” you looked confused for a moment, your eyebrows knitted together before a look of comprehension crossed your face. “What if I don’t want to just be your friend?”

He was stunned in to silence. When he eventually spoke his voice was weak and he spoke slowly. “What are you saying?”

You flexed your fingers to encourage him to relinquish his grip on your hands, lifting them to cup his jaw gently, as you stretched up on your toes, your gaze fixed on his mouth. You flicked your eyes up to meet his, your face centimetres from his, as though seeking permission to continue.

Taehyung remained totally motionless, terrified that if he made any sudden movements you would realise your mistake and he was so close to finally knowing how it felt to kiss you.

Your lips met with the lightest of pressure; the most tentative of touches. You moaned against his mouth as he rested his hands at your hips, shifting to capture his bottom lip between yours and sucking the plush flesh softly.

He was still too scared to kiss you back the way he so desperately wanted to at that moment; the way he had wanted to kiss you for so many years. He pulled back, searching your eyes for any signs that you hadn’t intended for this to happen, cautiously ecstatic when he found there were none. “Are you sure it’s me you want?”

You stared up at him, your pupils blown wide with desire and your fingers curling themselves in to the hair at the nape of his neck. Your chest was heaving and your breath was leaving you in shaky gasps.

Satisfied that he had his answer, he pressed his lips to yours. This time there was no trepidation, his mouth slanted over yours purposefully as he greedily swallowed the sighs and whimpers he was coaxing out of you with the intensity of his kiss.

With one hand tangled in to your hair and the other at the small of your back, he licked gently at the crease of your mouth, wanting so much to kiss you harder, deeper. His tongue stroked along yours and you tightened your grip on his shoulders, pressing your body flush against him as hard as you could, trying to be impossibly closer to him.

In all the times Taehyung had thought about kissing you – and he had, often – he never imagined how wonderful it would feel. His heart was pounding and he was dizzy with lust and adoration and god you felt incredible pressed against him that way.

You broke the kiss for a split-second, which was as long as either of you could stand at that moment, so you could meet his eyes, the fierceness in your gaze assuaging any doubt he may have had in his mind.

“It’s definitely you.”

#birthtaeweek #ipurpleunet #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #jin fluff #jin angst #bts #bts fanfction #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #happy v day

234 notes · View notes

deadlybeautydbz · 5 years

Text

Last First Date

Neeeeew story time my friends! I had originally planned to have this finished for Valentines Day, but that didn't happen. It’s here now though, so I hope you enjoy!

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are apricated, as are reviews and followes over on FFN when this is uploaded there. If you would like to suggest a prompt for me or chat about anything K18, DBZ or anything else, my ask box is always open.

I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing it.

Story under the cut.

Last First Date

The thing with 18 was, that it was complicated. Or maybe it wasn’t and Krillin was just doing the same stupid thing he always did, where he made his life way more difficult that it needed to be.

It wasn’t that he was completely inept when it came to ladies. He’d had girlfriends in the past, and more recently even a couple of short summer flings. And growing up around Bulma and Launch – especially when she was a blonde – had taught Krillin how to recognise a sign when he saw one.

And that was the thing. He was sure there were signs. 18 did indeed seem interested. Their banter was playful and free flowing, and all too often seemed to tip over into flirtatious territory. They were comfortable around each other and 18 would often seek Krillin out while he was doing chores around the island, keeping him company while he worked on whatever mundane task he was doing to keep their tiny pink home in tip-top shape.

Then there was the time that she had fallen asleep against him while they watched some awful movie together on the couch one night. From the second her head hit his shoulder, Krillin couldn’t have recounted a single thing that happened on the screen. All he was focused on was the pressure of 18’s head resting on his shoulder and the warmth of her breath against his bicep. Even when his arm started to tingle and eventually went totally numb, he dared not move and risk waking his sleeping beauty from her slumber. And when she eventually did wake that night, there had not been an ounce of awkwardness between them over the intimate moment they had just shared. 18’s eyes had simply fluttered open, she’d asked what she’d missed in the movie, and she’d continued to watch, never moving from her resting place against Krillin.

Oh how he’d wanted to pull one of those dorky teenage fake-yawns that night, and put his arm around her. It was all he’d thought about for the rest of the movie, and every second of every day for the next week, but he’d never worked up the courage and eventually 18 had taken herself to bed.

The point was though, given what he knew, he didn’t think his chances with 18 were totally zero.

But what if he was wrong?

Krillin liked 18. Like, he reeeeally liked her. Like, if it was a choice between having her in his life as a friend, or confess his feelings and risk scaring her off for good, he would pick friendship, because at least that way he got to see her every day.

Unless of course, she decided to move off the island because she thought there was nothing for her here. To the city or something. And she made friends with people who weren’t short, bald, losers. And one of her new tall, handsome model friends asked her out. And she got married and had babies and never thought of Krillin again. He’d get to see her everyday unless all of that happened.

Fuck.

If that happened, if 18 left – and Krillin knew that eventually she would if nothing changed, and he’d never mustered up the courage to tell her the truth, he’d hate himself forever.

“Hey, stranger.” A voice, 18’s voice, dragged Krillin from his melancholy thoughts. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Krillin responded.

“Really?” 18 seemed sceptical. She motioned toward the paintbrush that Krillin was holding in his hand, and the little puddle of paint that was dripping off it and onto the roof where he was standing. “Looks to me like you’re making a mess.”

“Huh? Oh shit,” Krillin followed 18’s eyes down to the roof and he winced. Prior to getting so distracted by his thoughts, Krillin had been repainting the window shutters on the upstairs rooms of Kame House. Roshi was very proud of his little island home and took pride in keeping it looking ship-shape. He would not be happy if he saw this. Quickly, Krillin whipped off his shirt and started trying to wipe up the blob of paint. But it was no use, it was about five hundred thousand degrees out under the hot midday sun, and even hotter than that up on the roof, and the paint had already started to set. All Krillin did was manage to smear the sticky, half dry paint across the red tiles, making the situation even worse. “Shit,” he muttered again.

“Hmmm.” Krillin noticed a certain tone in 18’s voice and looked up from smudging paint everywhere to eyeball her. 18’s hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of her shorts and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are you enjoying this?” He asked. “Roshi will kick my ass over this you know? And don’t think he won’t notice because he’s a thousand years old. He notices everything!”

“No, I’m not enjoying this.” 18 replied, and shrugged her shoulders. She was totally enjoying this. She loved when Krillin got all riled up. He was cute when he got flustered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah right. Just help me clean this up, would you?”

“Are you trying to get me to take my shirt off? That’s very forward of you, Krillin.”

“What?! No!” A blush raced up Krillin’s cheeks. “You know that’s not what I meant! Under the sink in the laundry there’s a bottle of turpentine and some old rags. Can you please get them for me?”

“Okie dokey” 18 nodded and climbed leisurely back through the window she had appeared from, leaving Krillin to deal with the rapidly worsening situation. “Here you go,” she said when she returned a minute later, holding the requisite cleaning supplies, and tossed them to Krillin.

“Thanks, 18.” He quickly doused the rag in the strong chemicals and prayed as he wiped it over the paint that it would work. Success! The paint lifted and Krillin let out a sigh of relief. “Hallelujah,” he said, and readjusted himself so he could sit down on the roof. “Thanks for your help, 18. I owe you one.”

18 sat herself down beside Krillin and shrugged her shoulders. “Hardly.” she scoffed. This was a man who had literally saved her life, not once, but three times, without expecting anything in return. He’d stomped on that godforsaken remote control on what was the worst day of her entire life, he’d cared for her after she’d been inexplicably regurgitated by a monster, and then he’d gone and tried to use a magical dragon wish to return her to her human form, without ever expecting to see her again. The least she could do in return was run down a flight of stairs for him. In fact. “Let me cook dinner for you tonight.” the words had blurted out of 18’s mouth before she’d really even considered them. She didn’t know the first thing about cooking. “Unless you have other plans, of course.”

“Other plans?” Krillin laughed. “Have you ever known me to have other plans?” He wasn’t sure where 18’s offer had sprung from, but he would have cancelled dinner with the Queen of England if an opportunity to spend time with 18 presented itself instead. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

---

Several hours later and 18 was regretting her stupid ideas and big mouth. Cooking?! She didn’t know the first thing about cooking. Surprisingly, the main chef in this small, dysfunctional home, was Oolong – it was just about the only thing the perverted little pig was good for. He would cook for himself and Roshi each day and usually leave enough extra for Krillin and 18 to help themselves too when they were feeling hungry. His dishes were simple but delicious and today, after scouring through every piece of information in her databases, and coming up with absolutely nothing about cooking – thanks Gero – 18 had to swallow her pride and take a leaf out of Oolongs book. He usually cooked a modest combination of vegetables or soup with rice, and so 18 was attempting the same.

Vegetables and rice. How hard could that possibly be?

Surprisingly hard, it turned out. 18 almost threw a spoon at Krillin’s face when he popped his head into the kitchen to see how things were progressing.

“Everything’s fine, Krillin! What, do you think I can’t cook or something?!” she demanded, while whipping around the kitchen in a disorganised frenzy.

“No, no, that’s not it at all!” Krillin threw his hands up to cover his head from any more projectiles that 18 might hurl his way in her frustration. He noticed the piles and piles of dirty pots and pans that were stacking up by the sink and what looked like smoke billowing out from the oven, but very wisely chose to keep his mouth closed on what was clearly a sensitive subject. “I just came to see if you’d like me to set the table or if you’d prefer to eat on the beach?”

“Beach!” she snapped back, although instantly regretted her sharp tongue. “Krillin, stop!” she called, noting that Krillin had, rather wisely, already started to retreat from the tense air of the kitchen – not that she could blame him. Even she knew she was being feral. He turned back around, and the kind look in his eyes took just enough of the edge off of 18’s frustration for her to try again. “The beach would be nicer, I think.” She said. “Roshi is always hanging around in the lounge watching those disgusting exercise programs.”

Krillin beamed a bright and radiant smile. “Beach it is,” he winked and pointed a couple of dorky double finger-guns in 18’s direction. “I’ll be outside waiting whenever you’re ready. Please don’t rush though.”

It was a little over half an hour later when 18 trotted down onto the sand holding two bowls, which represented her hours of hard work and determination. She was most certainly content to let Oolong keep the title of Cooking Champion of Kame House, that was for sure, but for now, she was proud of what she had achieved.

“What’s this?” 18 asked, as she rounded the corner of the house, to where she knew Krillin would be waiting for her. This side of the beach was where they always sat because a) it was away from the prying eyes of certain stickybeaks in the living room, and b) it had the best view of the magical sunsets that the island was treated to each night.

Krillin, upon hearing 18’s voice jumped up from the sand and turned to face her. “Oh, this” he replied casually to the beautiful spread he had set up for them. A picnic blanket, cushions, a bottle of wine, “This is nothing. You went to so much effort to cook us a meal, I thought the least I could do was provide somewhere nice to eat it.”

“It’s lovely,” 18 handed Krillin his dinner and they both sat down on the blanket. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you!” Krillin poured two glasses of wine and handed one to 18. He was acutely aware of the fact that 18 had had the entire picnic blanket on which to sit, and yet she had chosen to sit right next to him. So close in fact that their knees were touching. ‘Focus, Krillin’ the ex-monk had to remind himself. “Cheers.” He held up his wine glass and clinked it against 18’s, before they both sipped from their glasses.

“So, how is it?” 18 couldn’t even wait for Krillin to swallow his first mouthful of food before she was seeking his approval. She had worked so hard on this meal, and she wanted Krillin to enjoy it. “I know it’s not much, but do you think I have potential?”

Oh, Krillin thought that 18 had potential alright.

“Absolutely,” he shovelled another forkful into his mouth, making sure to chew thoughtfully this time and savour the flavours before swallowing. “18, this is delicious. Where did you get the recipe?”

“Recipe? It’s rice and vegetables Krillin, don’t get to ahead of yourself here.”

“Honestly though, it’s delicious. What type of sauce did you use? I’m very impressed! I thought Oolong was the only one in this house with any cooking skills!”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.”

“I bet you are.” Maybe it was the wine going immediately to Krillin’s head, in the annoying way that wine always did for him, or maybe it was the romantic backdrop of the slowly setting sun – he wasn’t sure, but that last sentence had come out a lot more sensually that Krillin had intended and a blush raced straight up his cheeks. “Sorry, that uh… I didn’t mean that to sound so well… so creepy!” he laughed bashfully and he briefly considered getting up and drowning himself in the ocean.

Quickly, in a last ditch effort to prevent anymore unfiltered nonsense spewing from his lips, he stuffed his mouth full of food and committed to chewing each piece 100 times.

Beside him, 18 shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

For a while, there was a content silence as the pair sat and ate their food, sipped their wine and watched the sky change from bright blue, through rich yellows and oranges to a deep, dusty pink as the sun sank towards the horizon.

18 remembered vividly the first Kame Island sunset that she had been witness to. A view like that; the most magnificent melting together of colours that she had ever seen, it had taken her breath away. 18 had been sure that it had been a once-in-a-lifetime display. There was no way something so captivating could ever be repeated. But there it was again the following night, igniting the sky with its glory, and again the night after that, and that was when 18 had begun to realise that there was something special about this place.

And it wasn’t just the glorious sunsets that made it so, or the fact that this house seemed to somehow magically exist in the middle of an ocean surround by nothing and yet still had power and running water. No it wasn’t any of that at all. It was the people who lived here. From the moment that Krillin had invited her, and 18 had stepped foot on the islands warm white sand, she had felt welcome.

Roshi and Oolong – disgusting perverted tendencies aside – had been nothing but hospitable when Krillin had humbly informed them that 18 would be making use of the spare bedroom for the time being. There had simply been nodding of heads and they turned back to the TV. No one here cared about her murky past, or that she was a capable of becoming a deadly killing machine if the mood struck her. It was nothing they hadn’t encountered before. 18 quickly learned that over the years, Kame House had been somewhat of a safe haven for the Z warriors, many of whom had started out an enemies, and its door were always open to those who needed it.

And then there was Krillin. He really was something else. He had a heart that was kinder than anything 18 had ever known. She felt at ease around him in a way she had never felt around anyone, not even her own brother. He had invited her to stay with them on the island without any expectations and with no strings attached. It was simply an offer of a warm bed and a roof over her head for as long as she needed. She never felt any pressure here to be anything more than she was.

It had been almost six months now, since her arrival, and 18 was noticing a change in herself. She wasn’t the cold hearted monster she had come here believing that she was. She had just been scared, confused and in full-blown self-preservation mode when she arrived. “Totally normal,” Krillin had said one day, when she’d mentioned her changing emotions. “So many of us, me included, came here as angry little shits, hell bent on making life difficult for everyone around us, and then something happened. This place has a way of bringing out peoples true selves. Like it knows who you were always meant to be.” They were words that 18 would never forget.

And as far as she was able to tell, it was true. Sitting here now with Krillin, sipping on her wine, listening to the waves gently breaking against the shore, she felt a world away from the person she had been six months ago. She felt like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, anew, and awash with opportunities and possibilities. For the first time, 18 was beginning to feel like her life was truly hers to take control of.

The sun had set now, and they world seemed to exist inside a glorious twilight bubble. 18 buried her bare toes into still warm sand and lay back so that she could rest on her elbows and stare up at the sky. “This is nice,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Mmm,” Krillin agreed absentmindedly. He was deep in his own mind too, having picked up his train of thought from earlier in the day. It had dawned on him that this was his moment. The moment. Maybe the only moment he would get, to let 18 know how he felt. He needed to clear the air, and his conscious, once and for all, no matter the consequences. He had to know that he had at least tried. “Do you like it here? On the island?” he asked.

“Of course.” 18 either didn’t hear, or was choosing to ignore the awkwardness in Krillin’s voice.

“And are you happy?”

This time, 18 sensed that there might be more to this than just a casual conversation. She sat up and shuffled herself around on the picnic blanket so that she could better face her companion. “I am happy. Krillin, what’s this about? Is this because I got frustrated at you in the kitchen ea-”

“No, no,” Krillin cut 18 off mid-sentence. “That’s ancient history. It’s just important to me, y’know. That you’re happy here.”

“I am. I’m content here.”

“Good. Because it’s important to me that you are. Happy, I mean.”

“You just said that. Krillin, are you alright?” 18 could see, even in the muted light of nightfall that Krillin was flustered. His cheeks were pink and his hands trembled. A closer, more technical inspection of his vital signs revealed that his pupils were dilated and his heart was racing.

“Because you know, if you’re not happy here, I hope that you wouldn’t feel obligated to stay.” Krillin continued on, totally ignoring 18’s growing concern.

“I don’t feel obligated to-” something dawned on 18. “Krillin. Are you asking me to leave the island?”

“NO!” Krillin snapped back with so much intensity that 18 jumped. “No, I’m most definitely not doing that.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m…” Krillin faltered. What was he doing exactly? “I’m making a mess of this is what I’m doing. I’m sorry 18.” Krillin knew there was no going back now, 18 wouldn’t let him just walk away from this train wreck of a conversation, so he was going to have to go all in. Which was going to require more wine. He topped up his glass and drained it in one smooth movement, and hoped that the liquid courage would give him the boost he needed to get this over the line. “Let me start again.”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

“Okay.” Before he continued, Krillin closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “I don’t want you to leave 18, I’m sorry if it came across like that. What I actually want is the total opposite. What I want is for you to stay for a very, very long time. Maybe even for ever if you’d like.”

“Forever?” 18 asked, not exactly following along with this conversation.

“I like you, 18.” Krillin finally blurted it out, and that was the cue for the floodgates to open. “A lot. I like you a lot and I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. And I dunno, but I think maybe you like me to and maybe we could have something here. And I hope I’m not wrong, because the last thing I want in the entire world is to make our friendship weird because it means so much to me, just having you in my life at all. But I was worried that if I didn’t tell you and there was even a chance that you might feel the same, that you might think I wasn’t interested in pursuing this and then you would leave and I couldn’t let that happen so I just had to-”

“Krillin. Stop.” 18 placed her hand on Krillin’s forearm and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You’re rambling. Stop.” Her hand travelled down Krillin’s arm until it found his, and she let her fingers intertwine with his – and chose to ignore for now how clammy Krillin’s palms were. “You can relax okay. I like you to.”

“Really?”

A long sigh came from 18’s lips before she replied, and when Krillin finally worked up the courage to look at her, he could see that she was smiling. There was something about that small upward tick of her lips that soothed Krillin. It was clear that 18 wasn’t feeling uncomfortable about this strange turn of events. “Really.” She eventually said, and Krillin could hear just a hint of bashfulness in her voice. “So what happens now?”

“Now?” Krillin’s mind drew a blank. Honestly he hadn’t thought any further ahead than this exact moment. “You could let me take you on a date?”

18’s raised a cheeky eyebrow. “A date?” she mused. “Alright. A date. How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow?!” Krillin swallowed, “Are you sure that’s not too soon? I don’t want to rush this.”

18, it seemed, was much more pragmatic about the situation, and was keen to tackle it head on, and right away. “We’ve both agreed we’d like to pursue this. What’s the point in waiting?”

This was panning out better than Krillin could have ever hoped for, but he was still nervous. There was nothing in his life he had ever wanted to work out more than this, and he was weary of getting ahead of himself. It wasn’t like he was about to get down on one knee and propose, hell, he wasn’t even asking 18 to be his girlfriend right now. All he wanted was this one date, and he wanted it to be perfect. “Alright. Tomorrow then. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

The sound of 18 laughing filled the air, and in that moment, Krillin could have sworn he’d died and gone to heaven. Here he was, sitting out under the stars, holding hands with the woman whom he was pretty certain he was going to spend the rest of his life falling in love with and it couldn’t have been any more perfect if he’d tried. The emotional load that had been lifted from his shoulders was intense, and Krillin almost felt like he was going to cry – there was every chance that could have been the wine though. He never wanted this moment to end.

Desperately, Krillin was trying to think of the perfect thing to say next. Should he recite a poem? Sing a song? Do an interpretive dance? No, that last one was definitely a solid no. So caught up in his own head, as he so often was, Krillin failed to notice that beside him, 18 seeming to have her similar internal debate on how best to progress from here.

He blinked when he heard her say, “Ah, screw it.” There was barely a second to register the words before a firm hand yanked his head around and a pair of soft lips were pressed against his own. The kiss only lasted for a second or two and was over before Krillin had even realised that it began, but it was enough for the memory to be burned into his brain for the rest of his life.

18 had kissed him!

By the time he was able to process words and thoughts again, 18 was standing up and brushing sand from her legs. She looked down at him and smiled coyly. “See you tomorrow,” was all she said before disappearing up the beach and into the house, leaving Krillin to sit stunned in the sand.

See you tomorrow indeed. Krillin needed to get busy, it was time for him to plan his last first date.

Hope you liked it!! Please let me know, I love to hear your thoughts, feedback and what you’d like to see from me in the future!

#krillin #android eighteen #kururin #juuhachigou #cyborg 18 #otp #Dragonball z #dbz #Dragonball super #dbs #dragonball #fanfiction #fanfic #dbz fanfic #k18 #writing #deadlybeautyfanfiction

34 notes · View notes

sapphicscholar · 6 years

Note

your fics are helping me get through the shittiest breakup right now, so thank you. I know you probably have a million prompts but would you be interested in writing a story where maggie is having a really dark day and feeling really depressed/worthless within herself (either because of internalised homophobia, past trauma etc) and alex takes care of her? maybe even some soft tearful smut later?

Hey, I hope you’re doing alright! I’m sorry it’s taken me a little while to get to this prompt (I didn’t want to do a shitty job when my focus was so divided with work and applications). Sending all the best thoughts your way! It’s now posted to AO3.

Author notes:

CW on homophobia, abusive families, anxiety/depression, etc.

A/N: Now that we’re in the thick of the holiday season, I’ve gotten a few asks for chosen family and hurt/comfort. I know it can be really hard dealing with family (or making the perfectly legitimate choice not to but seeing posts on social media that make it seem like everyone else has a loving, supportive biological family). No matter what choice you make (and I know sometimes there really isn’t a choice, depending on the situation), I’m sending you all the best thoughts. I hope you’re able to make time for yourself, even if it just means finding a quiet room to be alone for a little bit, maybe some wifi to catch up on gay af fanfic or cute puppy gifs, which I’ll try to post in spades over the break when I have time to be on my phone or computer. There are links to resources here as well.

A/N 2: Regarding a few lines in this fic: Obviously not all religion is inherently homophobic, nor do I think anyone smart and scientific (e.g. Alex) must necessarily be an atheist. But I think for so many of us who were raised Catholic (fun foreshadowing here for the nerd notes at the end today), religion was something that shaped our upbringing in an often profound way and was then thrown back in our faces when we came out. Are there Catholics who don’t follow the Church on its teachings about LGBTQ issues? Of course. But, for instance, the fact that my family happened to be supportive of LGBTQ rights in a general way didn’t mean that I wasn’t terrified of coming out to them; it didn’t exempt me from years of internalized shame after hearing priests and religion teachers teaching that homosexuality was an intrinsic disorder of the soul; and it certainly didn’t save me from the humiliation of having to write that gay sexuality was a sin on a test to get an A, of knowing that I put the jobs of my family members who worked for the Church at risk just by being out, of being forced back into the closet to serve as a teacher at a Catholic high school. And even with all of that, I had it easy (and I certainly had it much easier than my fiancée), which I say not to guilt anyone who is still religious, but to explain the perspective from which I’m writing in advance.

Resources:National Domestic Abuse Hotline (online and phone options): http://www.thehotline.org/

US and International Hotlines for a variety of causes: https://sapphicscholarwrites.tumblr.com/post/167199297270/dont-ever-hesitate-reblog-this-tumblr-rule

Self-Harm Resources:http://myresourcemasterlist.tumblr.com/selfharmhttp://self-care-club.tumblr.com/post/139740925552/giant-self-help-masterposthttp://chooserecovery.tumblr.com/post/64162912692/ultimate-self-injury-recovery-masterpost

Suicide-specific resources:https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/https://themighty.com/suicide-prevention-resources/(For ones that link outside of the US):https://sapphicscholarwrites.tumblr.com/post/164643935260/selfharm-surviver-holybadbitch98https://sapphicscholarwrites.tumblr.com/post/164329606770/uie-fuwaprince-us-helplines-depression

Chapter Text:

“Are you and Maggie doing anything for Christmas?” Kara asked, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth as she nudged Alex, who had started to nod off during the last episode of The Walking Dead.

“Hmm?”

“Christmas—what are you doing?”

“Oh,” Alex sighed, pulling herself up and rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t know. I mean…I know Maggie used to celebrate it with her family, but obviously that hasn’t been the case in years.”

“Right, right.”

“And it’s not like she goes to church at all these days.”

“I mean…you’re not exactly religious, but we still do Hanukkah with Eliza.”

Alex shook her head. “It’s different, I think. I was never religious; it was always more about…I don’t know, being with family and having something in common. I thought mom might be disappointed in me for being gay, but I never thought her reasoning would be that God said it was bad or anything like that.”

“Right,” Kara conceded. “But it might still be nice to celebrate together—you know, build new traditions.”

“I kinda fucked up with that whole thing on Valentine’s Day,” Alex sighed. Sure, they’d talked eventually and found a way to celebrate, to reclaim memories that had hurt Maggie for so many years. But Alex didn’t want to try to surprise Maggie this time and risk dredging up buried trauma once more. “I don’t know. I’ll talk to her.”

Closing her eyes, Maggie blinked back hot tears that threatened to fall. She focused on her breathing: Breathe in—1, 2, 3, 4, 5—hold—1, 2, 3—exhale—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. She fumbled to take off her watch, finding her pulse and focusing on its too fast beat, waiting for it to slow in time with her deep breathing. She ignored the clock, ignored the reminders of how soon Alex would be home, how weak she would look sitting at the kitchen counter and crying over a piece of paper—a stupid Hallmark greeting card with some trite bullshit scrawled across it in fake cursive.

Of course, the card itself hadn’t set her off. It was the hand-written note inside. The sight of the same handwriting that had adorned the rare note in her lunchbox in kindergarten was what had left her eyes stinging, not the vague platitudes about having a very merry Christmas and an even happier New Year. As she read, she was overcome with surges of anger and sorrow and a guilt that she had never quite been able to shake, no matter how much “pride” she claimed.

She tried to seize on the anger—the rage and frustration that she’d used as motivation to succeed: to do well enough in school to get herself out of that small Nebraska town; to do well enough in college to keep her scholarship; to do well enough in the academy to guarantee her a job, even as a non-straight, non-white woman. And there was plenty of it. Anger at her father’s suggestion that her family had always been there for her, as though they hadn’t left her alone at her aunt’s house with barely enough clothing for the week. Rage at this idea that she had been the one to wrong the family simply by living her life honestly and authentically, that she had ruined something otherwise perfect by being herself. Frustration at the phrase, “your friend,” as though her father hadn’t stormed out of their bridal shower precisely because Alex was so much more than just a friend, as though he hadn’t forced her out of her home and family as a mere child because her feelings for Eliza exceeded the bounds of friendship.

But then there was the photo of all of the cousins and nieces and nephews she’d never met. There were sentences about just how much older everyone had gotten, the sickness and bad times they’d been through without her there, the deaths she’d never known about, let alone mourned. Because she’d already done that—mourning the loss of a family that still existed—but not for her. Not with her.

It still got to her, still struck her with a guilt that felt like it could wrench her open, could undo everything she’d worked for, could tear down every inch of progress and confidence and sense of self she’d fought to build for herself.

Maybe he was right. Maybe they were all right. Maybe she was selfish—selfish for putting herself and her desires above her family, the people who had raised her, who had sacrificed their lives to try to make hers better.

And there was another voice—much quieter, harder to hear, harder to believe—that seemed to call back, to tell her that she was worth it, that her life wasn’t worth sacrificing on the altar of bigoted beliefs, no matter who else worshiped there. She thought the voice sounded an awful lot like Alex’s, and its echoes, the voices of her new family: M’gann and J’onn and James and Kara and Eliza and Winn and everyone else who had come together to prove to her that she had people in her corner even when she felt most alone and least worthy of love.

But they were just that: voices. And in the face of the letter, its words right there, her fingers able to trace over them, feel the indents where her father had pressed down just a little harder, those marks and proof of a family that existed in reality—a family she could barely even think of as family anymore—those voices advocating for her faded to the background, drowned out in a chorus of self-loathing so overpowering she could barely manage to stagger toward the bed, her deep breathing long forgotten.

—

Alex found her there nearly an hour later. Her body was rigid, trembling every so often but otherwise catatonic. She looked as pale as Alex had ever seen her, and there were tear tracks streaked across her cheeks, her eyes puffy and rubbed raw from the harsh swipe of her shirt sleeves. Her fingers were clenched into fists, and her short nails were leaving deep moon-shaped imprints in her palms.

“Maggie!” Alex called out, rushing forward. She’d seen her like this once before—just once—and it had terrified her as much then as it did now. Remembering her DEO training, she forced herself to stay calm, to detach herself from the situation and let her medical instincts take over.

“Hey, Maggie, it’s me, Alex,” she said, her voice low and even as she knelt down on the ground next to her, pulling out the bottle of water she carried with her in her bag and putting it beside Maggie on the bedside table. “You okay if I sit here?”

Maggie managed to get herself to nod.

“Great. And if that changes, I can move, okay? I’m going to stay with you, but I can be a little farther away, or I can get closer if you want.” She paused to let Maggie process. “Do you think you can breathe with me?”

“It’s not helping,” Maggie forced out, her teeth chattering shut.

“Maybe if we do it together, it’ll help a little, okay?” Alex murmured. “Can I put a blanket on you?” Seeing the nod of assent, Alex pulled out the fluffiest blanket they had—the one with no tags, no rough patches or odd seams, the one that Maggie had wrapped around her after everything with her dad and Cadmus—and carefully draped it over Maggie, taking care not to tuck it under her, lest she feel trapped. Feeling how cold Maggie was to the touch, she slipped over to the edge of the room and turned up the thermostat before making her way back over to the bed.

She knelt next to Maggie, helping her to slow her breathing, holding her hand once she told her it was okay to touch, checking her pulse and smiling broadly as it came down to close to normal levels, telling Maggie just how proud she was when she was able to unclench her muscles and relax slightly into the mattress. Once the worst of it seemed to be over, she got Maggie to drink water and stretch out her stiff muscles.

“What do you say to a hot bath together? It’ll warm you up, and we can light the nice candles.”

“Even the cookie one?”

“Definitely the cookie one,” Alex agreed, smiling at the signs of Maggie returning. A few moments later, she came back into the bedroom, having lit the candles and begun filling the bath. “You good to walk?”

“Yeah,” Maggie nodded, standing up and rolling her neck to work out the cricks that had developed in it. She still let Alex take her by the hand and walk her to the bathroom, cracked a joke or two when Alex asked to help take off her clothes, grinned when Alex pulled out the extra fluffy towels they had picked up a few weekends ago and set them on the radiator to warm while they were in the bath.

For a while they relaxed in silence, Maggie sitting between Alex’s legs, her head resting on Alex’s shoulders while Alex ran her fingers through Maggie’s hair.

“My dad wrote,” Maggie said, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What? No, Maggie, never. You’re—god, you’re one of the best people I know.”

“That’s not true. You know Supergirl.”

“Yeah, well Supergirl never gives me the last slice of pizza, and you always offer to share.”

Maggie snorted, shaking her head against Alex’s shoulder. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean? Because honestly, Maggie, you are one of the most caring people I know. I—you’ve made me better. And not just by helping me to come out,” she clarified, anticipating Maggie’s objection that anyone could’ve done that with enough perseverance or bluntness. “You’ve made me rethink some of those things I assumed I knew. You helped me to see aliens who weren’t just like my sister as people who needed protection, not just prosecution or imprisonment. You showed me possibilities for a life I never thought I’d have.”

“But you didn’t say anything about my family. People have died, Alex—people I loved, people who loved me. They died, and I didn’t know.”

“There’s a difference between choosing not to know and never having been told.”

“Is there? Phones exist. Hell, mail exists. I never tried reaching out.”

“You did nothing wrong!” Alex tried to bite back her anger, knowing that wasn’t what Maggie needed. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. But self-preservation, knowing to take care of yourself—that matters too. You had no way of knowing how they would react if you tried to reach out. They had already hurt you, Maggie.”

“Still. They’re family.”

“And so am I, but if I hurt you—god, Maggie, if I hurt you that way, I wouldn’t want you to feel like you owed me anything. You don’t owe anyone your forgiveness.” Trying to find words, Alex let out a sigh of frustration. “You did try, Maggie. Think about it that way. You tried—you invited your dad to our bridal shower, in part because I wasn’t thinking quite clearly. I thought…I could only think in terms of my own relationship with my mother. And we went through some rough, rough periods, but it was different. I didn’t see that clearly then. But you gave him a chance he didn’t deserve—a chance you were good and pure and kind enough to give him—and he threw it away.”

“He came.”

“Yes, and he left.”

“I know,” Maggie huffed. “And I thought that would be it! And if it was…well, maybe this would all be easier, you know? God, I just—he said no! He doesn’t want me the way I am. So why won’t he stop acting like it’s my fault?”

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted, her voice barely a whisper as she wrapped her arms around Maggie. “I really don’t. And I don’t—I don’t have the perfect advice to offer. I’m happy to call him and yell at him, or get a restraining order, or burn the letter, or ignore it entirely and hold you, or kiss you until you can’t think about anything else. I mean, whatever you want, you know? I’m here for you, and I’ll support you no matter what you choose.”

“Even if I choose vegan ice cream and a whole night of Rizzoli and Isles?” Maggie teased, opting to ignore the tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“Even both of those terrible choices.”

“You love Rizzles just as much as I do.”

“You’re a cop! How do you deal with all the procedural violations?”

“I watch for the hot ladies with delightful romantic chemistry on my screen and put up with the rest.”

“Yeah, yeah. They don’t even get to make out, though.”

“Neither do half of the actual gay couples on television!”

“Fine,” Alex whined, though she kissed Maggie’s cheek anyway, which led Maggie to turn around, finding Alex’s lips with her own and letting herself be held, letting herself be cared for.

Eventually they got out of the tub, the water having grown lukewarm. Wrapped up in a fuzzy towel, Maggie nudged Alex with her shoulder. “You think it’s okay that I don’t try to reach out to him for Christmas?”

“I think that’s your decision, and you are allowed to celebrate however you want.”

“I mean…I want to celebrate by going sledding and destroying you in a snowball fight.”

“Whatever you want within reason,” Alex clarified, laughing at Maggie’s pout. “And maybe, just maybe, we can think about traveling somewhere cold for a vacation. Don’t see why we’d want to, though,” she added, winking at her fiancée.

“So cheesy movies and as much junk food as Kara can bring over? And maybe when she leaves you and I can find our own way to celebrate…”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

#ask me #anon #prompt fill #fanfic #cw homophobia #cw family abuse #cw depression #angst #hurt/comfort #sanvers #supergirl #maggie sawyer #alex danvers #kara danvers #holidays #maggie-centric #ao3feed

27 notes · View notes

dimensiontripperhibiki · 7 years

Text

Addiction (19/?)

Thanks for the comments and messages/reblogs on the previous chapters, guys. I really appreciate it. Hope you all enjoy this one too! I’m on a bit of a roll with Addiction at the minute. :D Warning(s): Angst, cheating, VERY sexual scenes, LOTS of swearing. And again, very sexual scenes. So...M rated basically. “What are you two looking at?” Maki asked curiously as she walked over to Honoka and Umi. The two had been talking in hushed tones in the corner of the roof, their gazes fixated on something. Maki had been watching them for a couple of minutes. Eli had left a few minutes ago to get the two of them some juice. She followed their gazes to Kotori. “You aren’t going to argue again, are you?” Honoka looked up at Maki. “No...just...her jacket. I didn’t know she liked that style, it’s too...boyish for her liking. And it’s not mine despite the H on the front.” “And it says ‘I’m too hot’ on the back.” Umi pointed out quietly. “It’s...not usually Kotori’s attitude either. So we don’t think it’s hers.” “We just don’t know where she got it.” Honoka chimed in again, a puzzled expression on her face. “And I’m not speaking to her right now so I can’t ask. Can you ask her for us, Maki-chan?”

“No, I’m not doing your dirty work for you.” Maki answered firmly. “No way.” “Maaaaaki!” Honoka whined. Umi meanwhile looked on, staring at the embroidering on the back of the jacket. There was one person she knew who would wear something like that. “I said no, I’m…” Thankfully Maki was cut off before Honoka managed to talk her into doing something she really didn’t want to do. “What’s going on? You think she has a secret lover?” Nozomi teased as she approached them. “She hasn’t been spending as much time with me and Nicocchi lately…” “Are you kidding me?” Umi growled. “I’m just kidding.” Nozomi laughed at the look on Umi’s face before she turned to Maki. “Maki-chan, can I talk to you in private, please?” “Me?” Maki asked in surprise. She hadn’t spoken to Nozomi on her own since before she’d found about about Eli cheating with Maki. “O-Okay. Are you sure you…?” “Come on.” Nozomi grabbed Maki’s hand and tugged her away from Honoka and Umi who had turned their attention back to Kotori anyway. She led them off to the other corner of the roof. “What’s wrong? You’re not mad at me, are you?” Maki asked anxiously. She wasn’t sure why Nozomi wanted to talk to her. “Did I do something wrong?” “No, relax.” Nozomi let go of Maki’s hand and turned toward her. “I just wanted to talk to you without Elichi being around, that’s all.” “Wait, what?” Maki warily took a step back. “Look...Nozomi, I really care about you. And I do want to be friends with you again but i-if you’re going to ask me to break up with Eli, I’m sorry but I can’t. I love her.” “What? Why would you think that? Please don’t let Nicocchi hear you suggest that. She’d be so pissed at you...” Nozomi sighed in exasperation. “I just wanted to apologize again, specifically for slapping you in the clubroom that day. Hurting my friends isn’t usually something I do. And before you say anything, yes we are still friends. You’re one of my closest friends.” “Oh…” Maki looked down at the ground, pulling her cap down slightly to shield her eyes as she felt them prickle with tears. She didn’t deserve such apologies. She should be apologizing. “Um...a couple of other things too.” Nozomi wrung her hands together nervously. “I’m sorry I turned Nicocchi against you. I know you felt close to her and I um...I know it’s going to take a while for her to forgive you. I’m sorry for not putting a stop to the bullying too. I could have if I’d tried harder but I was...dealing with my own stuff.” Maki shook her head. “No, you were kinder to me than I deserved. Nozomi, could you please just shut up and stop apologizing? Damn it, I don’t deserve a friend like you. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was the reason Eli broke your heart.” “You don’t get to take all the blame, Maki-chan.” Nozomi disagreed, noticing Maki’s choked up tone. “I wouldn’t have said it before but it was Elichi’s fault too. I know she went after you first. She told me.” “She’s sorry about that. She really does feel awful. If you want to forgive one of us, forgive her. She loves you. She really does.” Maki said hurriedly. “You’re her best friend and…” “I want to forgive you too. I’m ready to move past it.” Nozomi interrupted, not wanting Maki to work herself up. “I don’t want to lose either of you.” “B-But I don’t…” Maki’s voice cracked and she trailed off, tears filling her eyes. “Oh come here.” Nozomi pulled off the hat Maki was using to hide and drew the girl into her arms, hugging her tightly. Maki’s arms went around her in turn, hands clutching at the back of her shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, Nozomi…” Maki made no effort to hide the fact that she was crying now. “Shhh. I’m sorry too.” Nozomi gently ran her hand over the back of Maki’s head, trying to calm her. “Elichi told me you came out to your dad?” “Y-Yeah. He said he’ll lay off with t-the ‘marriage interviews’ and stuff. But I have to be sure. I am. I know I am. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” Maki sniffled into Nozomi’s shoulder. She didn’t make any move to pull away. The last time Nozomi had hugged her had been fleeting so she wanted to bask in it this time. “I told him I’m gay and I don’t want to be with anyone else anyway. Eli’s the only person for me.” Nozomi allowed the lingering hug, gently stroking Maki’s back. “I think the majority of us are. Or at least in a relationship with other girls. Maybe not Hanayo-chan and Rin-chan but the rest of us are.” Maki chuckled tearfully. “It’s a good thing we have mostly female fans.”

--- Nozomi glanced around the cafeteria as she got her tray. Nico was busy with something she was adamant about not disclosing so for the second day in a row Nozomi was eating alone. She brightened, spotting Eli and Maki sitting together at a table but hesitated to walk over to them. She didn’t want to interrupt. Remembering her words from that morning though, she steeled herself and walked over to the table. When she was a couple of steps away, Eli and Maki looked up. “Do you mind if I sit here?” Nozomi asked, trying to sound casual about the request. “Nicocchi is busy or something.”

“Yes! I mean, no of course not!” Eli said hurriedly while Maki looked like she might cry again. “Please sit.” Nozomi sat down at the table with them. “You can carry on with whatever you were talking about. It’s fine.” “S-So um...as I was saying, she really bleached her hair.” Maki said, glancing back at Eli. “I couldn’t believe it. But the moment she walked into class, my jaw dropped.” “You’re talking about the first year, Amagi-san?” Nozomi asked, picking up her chopsticks to eat her Ma-Po tofu. “The one who’s almost as rich as you and Umi?” Maki nodded. “Yeah, her family owns a lot of galleries and collections. She was such a model student before though, it’s weird. I mean I know she was hiding some stuff and I heard rumors that she was kicked out of a boarding school but she was so quiet that I didn’t really believe them. And she has so many admirers. She even has boys in her fanclub!” “I guess people aren’t always the way they seem to be.” Eli said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I mean I had the wrong impression about you before we…” She glanced at Nozomi uncertainly, receiving a reassuring nod in response. “I think I know where Kotori got her jacket.” Maki said when Eli chose not to continue. “But I don’t know for sure so I don’t want to say anything.” “It’s best to keep it to yourself, Maki.” Nozomi agreed. “Kotori will come out when she’s ready to.”

Maki bit her lip. “I guess. I’m just worried about her. She’s been acting a bit odd too lately. Maybe she’s being influenced or something. You still speak to her a lot, right? So you can keep an eye on her?” Nozomi nodded in response. “Of course I can.” --- “So you really did bleach your hair.” Umi said thoughtfully as she stepped close to Hibiki who was sitting in front of her usual easel in the art room. “I mean I know you said you would but I guess I didn’t believe you…” “Yeah, it doesn’t look too bad, right?” Hibiki self-consciously ran her hand through her hair. “No, it suits you. More than your darker hair did.” Umi said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I guess all that matters is whether you like it. Do you?” Hibiki nodded, smiling widely. She felt much better now that she had her hair the way she wanted it. “The rumors have started though.” “They’re just jealous, that’s all.” Umi said with a soft smile. “Ignore them.” “I’m down a notch from Makinin again, I think. Blonde isn’t a very popular color…” “Do you guys compete or something?” Umi asked, rolling her eyes. “Not really.” Hibiki said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m just saying, I’m not going to be as popular now that I’m blonde.” “Eli is blonde. You should see how popular she is, especially on Valentine’s day.” Umi pointed out logically. Eli had always been quite popular amongst the other girls in the school. “Besides it’s not like you care about that, is it?” Hibiki shrugged her shoulders. “There are more important things.” “That’s true.” Umi stared at Hibiki for a moment, tempted to ask the question on her mind. Part of her didn’t want to know though so she chose not to. “You’re not with Kaichou today?” Hibiki asked thoughtfully as she turned back to her blank canvas. Umi shook her head. “She’s busy with Eli. They went off somewhere together. Maki too, I think.” “You didn’t want to go with them?” “They didn’t ask me so I didn’t. I think Honoka wants to talk to them about some things she doesn’t want to talk to me about. Which is fine.” Umi wandered over to another chair and dragged it closer to Hibiki. “Do you mind if I hang out in here with you for a while?” “Course not. You can hang out with me whenever you want to.” Hibiki turned on her chair to face Umi. It wasn’t as though she was going to get much done. She hadn’t drawn a single thing yet. “Do you want to talk about Hocchi?” Umi shrugged her shoulders. “There’s not much to talk about. She’s worried about things. About me not being out to my family, about Kotori. Maybe she just needs to talk to Eli about it. She doesn’t want to upset me maybe.” “You hate seeing her upset too so it’s pretty much a mutual thing you two have, hmm?” Hibiki asked pointedly. “Yeah.” Umi looked down at the ring on her finger, recalling how upset Honoka had been when she’d taken it off for the fundraiser. She’d regretted that decision ever since then. Ever since she’d seen how hurt Honoka had been. “I think I’m going to come out to my parents this weekend. I can’t keep doing this to her. To us. I need people to know.” “You’re following Maki’s example, huh? Isn’t your father kind of a prick though?” Hibiki asked, raising an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly.” “He’s strict but has to maintain his status as the head of the dojo. I remember when he was young, he wished I was a boy…” “A prick then.” Hibiki concluded, turning to scowl at her blank canvas.

Umi slumped back down in her seat and sighed heavily. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” Hibiki shrugged. “There’s a rumour that you were kicked out of boarding school before you came here. Is that true?” Umi asked carefully. “Damn it, Umi-tan. I thought you were above gossiping.” Hibiki didn’t look at Umi. “It’s true that I was meant to go to boarding school for middle school and high school. What of it?” “What did you do?” “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hibiki retorted automatically. “I don’t like talking about it. Guess I’ll have to soon if it’s going around the school though.” “Oh, it’s not. I heard it at a fundraiser last year.” Umi said sheepishly. “I think Maki and I are the only people here who know about it.” “I’d like to keep it that way if that’s okay with you.” Hibiki’s tone wasn’t light and carefree like Umi was used to. It was serious and firm. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” Umi said, not wanting to upset her. She leaned back in her seat, her thoughts drifting to Honoka. “Thank you…” Hibiki muttered. ----

“Your house is almost as big as Umi-chan’s.” Kotori observed as Hibiki let her into her room. She glanced around, noticing the vintage posters on the walls as well as the art supplies scattered around. She noticed a painted mural on the far wall. The room was fairly dark. Even the sheets adorning her surprisingly large bed were black. Kotori hadn’t expected anything less if she was honest. “This is...very you.” There were paint tubes on the floor in front of a canvas, settled on an easel. It was blank, Kotori noticed as she continued to look around. The room was nothing like her own. It was dark and somehow...sexy in a way. “Yeah, my parents give me free reign with this. So I went all out.” Hibiki said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m really into the…” “Hibiki.” Hibiki fell silent when Kotori interrupted her. Something about the girl’s voice sounded breathy. “Yeah?” Kotori bit her lip as she turned to Hibiki. She stared at her for a moment, taking in the open blouse, revealing a crimson top underneath. She felt her cheeks flush as Hibiki lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, her shirt sliding up slightly. She hugged the clothes she had brought closer to her. “Nothing. I’m just...a bit nervous.” “Hey, you really have nothing to worry about.” Hibiki walked over to Kotori and took the bag of costumes from her, placing it neatly on the bed. “Just think about performing. It’s just like that but you have to pose for a while longer than at the end of a song. And it’s just me here. You trust me, right Kotori?” “I don’t even know you that well…” Kotori said with a slightly disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t ask that.” Hibiki reached for Kotori’s hand and gripped it lightly. “We can stop whenever you want to. Do you trust me though? A bad girl posing as a good girl?” Kotori bit her lip again. Hibiki certainly knew how to make a girl’s knees weak. “I trust you. I trust an artist with a gifted skill.” Hibiki smiled and stepped back, letting go of Kotori’s hand. “We can start with a portrait with just your uniform on. Though if you don’t mind I’d like the blazer off. Sleeves up to your elbows and...your bow off. Please.” “Okay.” Kotori shrugged out of her blazer, tossing it down next to the other clothes. She took her school bow off too and then rolled up her sleeves like Hibiki had asked. “Like this?” “Yeah. I’m just gonna change too. I don’t want to get this dirty…” Hibiki turned away from Kotori and began to slip off her school blouse. Kotori’s eyes widened as Hibiki took her shirt off, revealing her bare back. Or parts of it at least. She was still wearing the crimson camisole but it was very thin. As she turned Kotori noticed that she was a lot more filled out in the chest area than she had first though. She was about as big as Maki. She watched as Hibiki unhooked her skirt and grabbed a pair of ripped old boot cut jeans which she began to tug on, not before Kotori got a glimpse of black panties though. “Fuck…” Hibiki looked up and Kotori turned away quickly, blood rushing to her face. “Did the principal’s daughter just curse?” Hibiki smirked. “How uncharacteristic. What would your mom think?” “W-Why are you undressing in front of me?” Kotori stuttered. She didn’t dare turn back to Hibiki just yet. “I said I was changing.” Hibiki said, zipping her jeans up. “Warned you. It’s safe to look now by the way. Not that it wasn’t before. I hardly care if you look.” Kotori hesitantly turned back to Hibiki. “I wasn’t looking. I was just surprised.” “Sure you weren’t.” Hibiki teased, brushing past Kotori to get to her easel. Kotori’s eyes dropped to the girl’s ass as she walked and she huffed out a sigh of annoyance. When Hibiki turned back around to face her, she looked away. She was surprised to find archery equipment in Hibiki’s closet. “You’re in the archery club?” “Eh...I was before I screwed up.” Kotori raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you. From what I know.” Hibiki shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah well I was forced to choose a sport. Sit down on the bed, would you?” She waited until Kotori sat down on the edge of the bed. “Okay, shuffle back so you’re not perched right on the edge. Don’t fold your hands in your lap like that, put them at either side of you. Try to look relaxed.” “I don’t feel relaxed.” Kotori said as she watched Hibiki put her hair up with a bobby pin. “I feel scrutinized.” “Please.” Hibiki said with a slight scoff. “I don’t scrutinize you when I look at you. More like admire.” “Huh? Really?” “I told you. You’re really pretty. Why would I not look at you like that?” Hibiki set her easel up, preparing to draw Kotori. “Lean back on your hands just a bit and cross your right leg over your left.” Kotori did as she was told but then she did something that surprised even Hibiki. She lifted her hand and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. She didn’t know why but she wanted to make Hibiki squirmed. Hibiki felt her mouth run dry as her gaze drifted briefly to the bare skin on display. “T-That’s good, yeah.” Kotori almost smirked at the stutter but stopped herself just in time. She leaned back a bit further, her heart hammering in her chest at the heated look the first year was giving her. She watched as Hibiki got to work with her pencil on the easel, every few seconds looking back up at her. Like she couldn’t draw her eyes away. Her stare was intense and Kotori had to fight the urge to shudder. She managed to sit still though. She couldn’t help but notice the way Hibiki was barely even looking at her face. Instead, her gaze was drifting over her arms, chest and legs. It just made the whole thing even more intimate. She could hear the faint scratch of the pencil against the canvas as Hibiki carefully sketched her. It was quiet save from that and Kotori allowed her own attention to shift to Hibiki’s body. Or what she could make out anyway.

Hibiki’s tongue was sticking out just slightly in concentration. Kotori’s gaze travelled further down, to her chest then past the easel to her feet planted firmly on the ground. Hibiki wasn’t standing fully in front of the easel so it was easy to see her jeans slipping just a little bit down her waist, black panties just about visible. Fighting the urge to squirm herself as heat settled low in her stomach, she kept her eyes on Hibiki and stayed quiet, focusing on not moving. She didn’t want to ruin the drawing after all. “Could you untie your hair?” “Huh?” Kotori asked in surprise. She’d gotten used to the silence and hadn’t expected Hibiki to say anything. “The half ponytail is a pain in the ass to draw. I’d like it better if it was down. Here, I’ll do it. Don’t move.” Hibiki stepped out from behind her easel and crossed the room. She knelt on the bed with one knee and leaned in, reaching for Kotori’s ribbon. Kotori’s breath caught as she found herself staring at Hibiki’s chest. A moment later, her hair fell down against her body as her ribbon was removed and Hibiki leaned back. “Um…” “Much better.” Hibiki looked down, her blue eyes meeting amber. “You okay down there?” “Mmm.” Kotori answered with a nod of her head. It was all she could really manage.

“We could take a break if you want to?” Hibiki offered thoughtfully, wondering if Kotori was having an issue staying still for so long. Kotori shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Let’s continue. I want you to continue.” “Even if I keep staring at you?” Hibiki’s hand moved unconsciously to Kotori’s thigh. Kotori sucked in a sharp breath. She didn’t know if Hibiki was flirting on purpose but it was certainly working to get her riled up. “I like you staring at me. But maybe it would be better if I got into character. Wearing my uniform is just me…” “I’ll see what we have.” Hibiki got up and went to the bag of clothing, rifling through it in search of any muse costumes that would look good on Kotori. She paused, finding her letterman jacket in there. “My jacket. You decided to return it then?” “Um...not exactly.” Kotori answered sheepishly. Hibiki picked up the jacket. “Then why is it here?” “I like wearing it. And you said I looked good in it when I wore it after school a few days ago, remember? I stopped by the art club?” “Yeah, I remember..” Hibiki said with a shake of her head. “Of course I remember. You do look really good in it.” Kotori smiled bashfully and stood from the bed. “Do you want to..draw me in it?” “More clothes. An artist’s worst nightmare.” Hibiki said with a slight roll of her eyes. Personally she would rather Kotori stay as she was. “Hibiki.” Kotori paced toward Hibiki and took the jacket from her hands. “Turn around. Please.” “Huh? Why?” Hibiki frowned but when Kotori merely stared at her expectantly she sighed and turned around, staring at her door. Kotori took a deep breath, trying to calm herself for what she was about to do. She was taking a big risk and putting herself out there. She’d only known Hibiki for just over a week but she was sure she understood the signals the other girl was giving her. She slowly unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor before reaching behind her to unclasp her bra too. She tossed that down next to her shirt and slipped the letterman jacket on, leaving it unzipped. It fit her like a glove but she knew that nothing would be well covered with the jacket opened. She supposed that was the point. She didn’t want them hidden. She slid off her skirt and allowed it to the drop to the floor. Nerves kicked in now that she was exposed but she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Hibiki. You can um...” “Turn around? About ti-” Hibiki turned around, her word sticking in her throat when she noticed Kotori’s state of undress. She hadn’t expected her to be so bold. Her gaze slid down to Kotori’s breasts, barely covered by the fabric of her letterman jacket. She swallowed convulsively. “Y-You want me to draw you like this?” Kotori nodded. “At least now there won’t be more clothing…” Hibiki could swear that she saw Kotori’s nipples harden against the chill in the room. “I don’t think I can.” “Oh, do you not…?” Kotor self-consciously crossed her arms in front of her chest. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d been rejected sexually. Maybe she was just good at reading signals completely wrong. “No, no. That’s not it.” Hibiki scratched the back of her neck as she stared longingly at Kotori’s slightly more covered chest. “I just um...I don’t think I can concentrate. Now I’m j-just kind of thinking about how much I want to touch your boobs. Stupid, right?” She took a step back, flustered and accidentally stepped in some red paint. “Ah, shit….” Kotori decided to make her move, slowly sliding the jacket off as she walked toward Hibiki. It hit the floor somewhere behind her but she didn’t have time to check where it was. When she was within touching distance, Hibiki grabbed her and spun them around, pushing her against the mural wall behind them. Kotori gasped, discovering the paint was still very much wet. “Now look what you did.” Hibiki pressed herself flush against Kotori and watched as the second year’s cheek flushed. “Now I’m going to have to paint this all over again. This time with your body…” Kotori’s stomach fluttered with excitement. She reached up, brushing her paint covered fingers against Hibiki’s cheek, leaving streaks of blue. “Then do it, bad girl.” Hibiki chuckled low in her throat. “You like that, huh? That I’m such a ‘bad girl’. It turns you on.” “Yeah…” Kotori whispered, her paint covered fingers sliding into Hibiki’s hair, tugging the bobby pin out to let it fall to her shoulders. “You do.” Hibiki planted both hands at the side of Kotori’s head, coating her hands in black and white paint as she leaned up and crashed her lips against the almost naked second year’s. Kotori was taken by surprise as Hibiki kissed her deeply, without the slightest hesitation. A skilled tongue swiping at her lower lip had her granting access immediately and she whimpered as the feeling of said tongue exploring her mouth. Honoka had never been so enthusiastic. She’d only ever kissed her briefly, their makeouts barely ever deepening to this point. A hand clutched her leg, drawing it up and Kotori whimpered as Hibiki’s knee slid between her legs, pushing against her core. A paint covered hand cupped her breast, squeezing and rubbing and spreading paint onto her skin while another clutched at her thigh to keep her leg up. The idea of her skin being marked with the paint turned her on even more and she couldn’t help but grind against Hibiki’s knee, whimpering at the friction it brought. She tore her mouth away to take a much needed breath but Hibiki didn’t seem to approve and ducked her head to kiss and nip at her neck. Kotori moaned loudly and tried to press herself harder against Hibiki’s leg. “Fuck, you really want this, don’t you?” Hibiki muttered, pushing her hands into the back of Kotori’s panties. She gripped her ass, pushing her none too gently further up the wall. She was ruining the mural but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that. Kotori gripped Hibiki’s jeans, trying to pull her closer to her. “Usually I don’t do this with girls from the school. You know, to keep up the act. But I’ll make an exception for you, Kotori. Because you’re so fucking hot. No strings attached. If you want.” Hibiki paused to suck firmly at Kotori’s neck. “Of course I am. Just hurry up and fuck me already.” Kotori growled in Hibiki’s ear, causing her to shudder. “I need it.” “Fuck…” Hibiki muttered, caught off guard. She let go of Kotori’s ass and pulled her away from the wall, guiding her to the paint mat she’d laid out on the floor instead. She gripped Kotori’s shoulders and pushed her down onto the mat, quickly following her. --- Kotori was wearing the same jacket to the club meeting. Honoka noticed as soon as she stepped into the room. She hadn’t seen much of Kotori that day, having been busy with Umi. She noticed Maki and Hanayo, who were sitting together cast a nervous glance at her but she didn’t think anything of it. She sat down opposite Kotori, Hanayo and Maki as Eli and Umi sat down at either side of her. She didn’t notice anything amiss for a moment but then she looked up at Kotori, her blood running cold as she noticed the marks on her neck. “What the hell is that?” She pointed her own neck, her eyes boring into Kotori’s. “Is that a hickey? Where did you get it?” “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Kotori’s voice was sharp but she didn’t even look at Honoka. “If you have to know, I slept with someone. She was hot.” Honoka gripped the edge of the table. “Someone from Muse?” “No, you don’t know her. I’ve only known her for a week.” Kotori crossed her arms in front of her chest. Somehow the pained, angry look on Honoka’s face felt good. Honoka hadn’t even spoken to her in the past couple of weeks. “You threw your first time away on a one night stand?!” Honoka asked in disbelief. “Kotori-chan, that’s…” “What? You wouldn’t take it. You just let me throw myself at you.” Kotori growled in frustration. “Why would you care who I give it to? Besides, they may have only known me for a week but she seems to care about me more than you ever did. I’ll probably sleep with her again anyway. I actually feel like she wants me.” “KOTORI!”Umi stood up, slamming her hands against the desk. She quietened down when she spoke next though anger lingered in her voice. “Everyone get out. I need to speak to Kotori for a minute.” Everyone quickly got up and left the room, save for Honoka, Kotori, Umi and Eli. The blonde lingered for a moment, giving Honoka’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “If you need me I’ll be right outside the…” “Honoka, you go too.” Umi said firmly, turning to look at Honoka. “Please. Go with Eli.” To her surprise, Honoka got up and went with Eli without argument. When the door closed Umi turned on Kotori. “What the hell are you trying to do, Kotori? Are you trying to hurt her?” Umi’s voice was low but the fury in her voice was unmistakable. “Is that what you’re trying to do because I don’t even need to go and speak to her to know you’re doing a DAMN good job.” Kotori scoffed and looked away. “Kotori, I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to be nice about this.” Umi skirted around the table until she could sink into the seat next to Kotori. “But you’re pushing me. You just went and slept with someone else without even thinking about it. And then you flaunt it in front of her?” Kotori shook her head. “I can do what I like. It’s none of her...” She yelped as Umi grabbed the front of her shirt with both hands. “What the…?!” “This is the difference between how I feel about Honoka and how you feel about her. When I hurt her, I can’t stand to see that look in her eyes. I hate myself for doing it and I’ll do anything to fix it.” Umi’s eyes misted with tears. “You don’t care, do you? You really don’t.” Kotori felt her throat close up, her own eyes prickling but she tried not to look phased. “What does it matter? She hates me.” “NO SHE DOESN’T!” Umi gave Kotori a sharp shake. “Stop being so damn stubborn! She doesn’t love you like she loves me but she does love you. She needs her best friend and losing you will break her heart.” When Kotori merely stared at her, her grip loosened, tears sliding their way down her cheeks. “We both love you. Do you have any idea how much it hurts us to see you doing this to yourself? You deserve better than a one night stand.” “I don’t want it to be a one night stand! Okay?!” Kotori exclaimed, lightly pushing Umi’s hands away from her. “I like her! Maybe we rushed it but I really do like her. She’s cool and different and wild and something I’ve never experienced before. And she likes me too, I think. Well...she likes my physically at least. Unlike Honoka-chan...” “What…?” Umi’s eyes widened in surprise. “Kotori, who is it?” “Her name is Amagi Hibiki.” Kotori said with a shrug of her shoulders. “The girl who confessed to you?” “Yeah, I know her…” Umi sighed and leaned back in her seat. “Kotori, look...you need to stop trying to hurt Honoka. Just talk to her. Please. We all did things we shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. We never wanted to hurt you. But you hurt us too.” Kotori nodded silently and stood up. “I don’t hate you, Umi-chan. I just need some time.” She reached out to touch Umi’s shoulder but stopped just shy of it. Sighing to herself she turned and left the room. --- “What are you still doing on your laptop?” Eli close to whined from the bed. “Come to bed. I need my teddy bear.” “Sorry, just some last minute researching.” Maki shut the laptop and walked over to the bed, clambering up on it. She found Eli’s open arms waiting for her and smirked to herself as she moved into them lying down next to the blonde. “Hmm, I missed you…” Eli briefly buried her nose in Maki’s hair and inhaled slowly. “I missed you too.” Maki laughed softly as she slid her arm around Eli’s waist, pressing herself close. “But it’s only been a few minutes and we were in the same room…” “I don’t care, I still missed you.” Eli gently kissed the area behind Maki’s ear, causing her to shudder. “I got my acceptance letter a couple of days ago.” “What? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Maki looked up at Eli, beaming happily. “I’m so happy for you. I knew you’d do it.” She reached up, cupping Eli’s face in her hands and pulled her down into a kiss. Eli pulled back, her lips turned up into a small smile. “The whole Honoka drama kind of made me forget, sorry. I’ll still be in Tokyo so that’s good. I won’t be too far away.” “That’s good.” Maki said, settling back down next to Eli. Eli nervously bit her lip. “Nozomi told me I can move in with her and Nico so I’m not living by myself. I didn’t expect her to but it’s good. It was our plan for a long time. Is that okay with you?” “Sure, I trust you.” Maki answered without hesitation. “That’s...not really what I meant.” Eli sighed and laid down on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her left arm was trapped because Maki’s head was resting there so she couldn’t move too far away. “Will you miss me?” Maki scoffed. “Of course. Well...just a little bit. I’m allowed to come and visit, right?” “Yes! If you want to.” Eli felt relief wash over her. “Maybe every weekend and holidays too if you can? If you don’t mind staying over with Nozomi and Nico there.” “As long as you have your own room, I don’t mind. Besides, just try to keep me away at the weekend if I’m going a full week without seeing you.” Maki turned onto her side to look at Eli. “And we’ll skype every night before bed.” Eli smiled softly at the promise. “You gonna start cram school soon?” “Yeah, my dad’s already looking into it. He’s still letting me take piano lessons and do concerts though.” Maki said happily. Her dad had dealt with everything a lot better than she’d thought he would. “You’ll come to my competitions, right?” “Obviously. I have to be there to cheer my amazingly talented girlfriend on.” Eli gave Maki a gentle squeeze. “Hey, Maki...I know this sounds stupid but can you promise me something?” “Anything.” Maki said solemnly, noticing the serious look on Eli’s face. “What is it?” Eli’s face turned red with embarrassment. “Just...promise me this isn’t going to tear us apart? I know we won’t see each other as much but...I love you so much, Maki. I’ll do anything to keep us together. Anything.” Maki stared at Eli for a moment before she scooted back, sliding off the bed. She walked across the room to rummage through her bag and Eli sat up, worriedly watching her. “Maki? Is something wrong?” Eli was relieved when Maki turned back to her and walked over to the bed, clutching a long box. “What’s that?” Maki knelt down on the bed next to Eli. “I was going to give you this at graduation but now’s a better time, I think.” She held the box out to Eli who slowly took it from her but didn’t open it right away. “Open it!” “Alright.” Eli slowly opened the box to reveal a gold bracelet. She cast a glance at Maki who was smiling nervously before she took the bracelet from the box. “Maki…” “I had some charms put on it. A piano for me obviously and ballet shoes for you.” Maki explained as she watched Eli run her fingers over the charms. “I was thinking you can wear it when you’re at college. So you think of me.” “I’ll never stop thinking about you.” Eli said, her voice sounding slightly choked. “I have a matching one too.” Maki opened her other hand to reveal a bracelet that matched Eli’s. “So when you look at yours you’ll know I’ll be wearing mine too. Honoka gave me the idea actually. But I just want you to know that I’ll always be thinking about you too. I want to be with you...forever if you’ll have me, Eli.” “You’re gonna make me cry.” Eli said, her voice choked with emotion already. She held out her bracelet to Maki. “Put in on for me?” Maki brightened at the request and took the bracelet, setting her own on her lap. Carefully, she reached toward Eli’s outstretched wrist and put the bracelet on for her. “Will you…?” “Of course.” Eli took Maki’s bracelet from the redhead’s lap and put it on for her, being as careful as she could. Maki smiled at the way the bracelet looked on her wrist. “I meant what I said before. I’m never going to leave you, even if things get hard I’m still going to be with you.” “You really are trying to make me cry…” “I’m sorry, I ju-” Maki was cut off as Eli kissed her suddenly, toppling them both over onto the bed. “Shhh.” Eli whispered, situating herself on top of Maki. “I hope the door is locked. Because you’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” “Huh?” Maki’s confusion was interrupted by Eli kissing her again. With the blonde pressed flush against her she could hardly bring herself to argue. Her arms went around the girl above her and she kissed her back, arching slightly to get closer to her. Eli smirked to herself as Maki’s hand slid under her shirt, soft fingers moving over her skin. Even when she was beneath her, Maki was trying to top her it seemed. “I hope you can be quiet.” She mumbled against soft lips. “Because I plan to make you scream my name.” Maki shuddered at the warning. Her hands sunk down to Eli’s sleep shorts, slipping underneath them so that she could cup her firm ass, fingernails digging into soft skin. “Is that a challenge?” Eli opened her mouth to reply but Maki gave a firm tug, pulling Eli’s hips down to meet hers. The blonde moaned despite herself and Maki laughed quietly. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to learn to be quiet…” She teased, leaning up to nip at Eli’s ear. “Maybe I’ll be the one making you scream tonight.”

Eli groaned as she felt Maki continue to grind her repeatedly against her. “Maki…” Maki pushed herself into a sitting position, her lips finding their way to Eli’s neck and she slid her hand into the front of the blonde’s shorts, finding slick heat waiting for her. “Fuck, Eli…” She mused to herself as Eli rolled her hips forward against her hand. She couldn’t help it, she firmly bit Eli’s ear, earning a soft squeak of surprise. “You’re so damn cute. I don’t want to strip you tonight. It’s hotter doing it in our clothes, don’t you think?” Eli moaned like Maki had known she would. One of the things Maki had noticed about the blonde was that doing it in her clothes turned her on. It was cute, Maki thought. She planted her feet firmly on the bed and quickly flipped them, taking Eli by surprise. She grinned briefly at the blonde before she leaned down and pressed her lips to heated skin, dragging her teeth and lips down Eli’s front until she reached the edge of her tank top. She continued until she reached it’s hem which she pulled up with her teeth, revealing Eli’s smooth stomach. “You’re so…” She planted her lips to Eli’s abdomen, using her teeth a little to cause the blonde to hiss softly. “Fucking hot.” “Maki…” Eli arched into Maki’s mouth, trying to get closer to her. The redhead’s hand was still in her shorts, persistent fingers stroking her slowly. “Maki!” Maki smirked against Eli’s abdomen. It always amused her that she could turn the usually calm, confident blonde into such a needy mess. “Mmmhm?” “Just…” Eli’s hand slid into Maki’s hair, taking her slightly by surprise. “Come on.” Maki gave a soft chuckle. It was cute, when Eli tried to take control. “Why? You like it when I make you wait. It turns you on, doesn’t it? All of that anticipation...” Eli whimpered in response as Maki teasingly slid a single finger into her. “Maki, please. Please.” Maki paused, shuddering at the pleading tone in Eli’s voice. “Please what, Eli?” She shifted down, her lips brushing Eli’s shorts but bypassing where she knew Eli really wanted her. She kissed Eli’s thigh, gently nipping it a second later. “Just fucking…” Eli threw her arm over her eyes, her cheeks flushing red. “Ugh. Maki. Come on…” Maki withdrew her fingers for a moment, moving back to her knees next to Eli. Her previous position was uncomfortable so she moved so that she was straddling Eli’s stomach, facing away from her. She slid her hand back into El’s shorts and reentered her with two fingers, causing her to moan loudly. She didn’t move them again though, letting them stay still. “Why should I do it if you can’t even say it out loud?” Eli pushed her head into the pillow and moaned at the feeling of Maki’s fingers inside of her. Maki moved her fingers just a little bit and Eli automatically tried to grind her hips forward to prolong the movement. “Say it.” “Fine!” Eli growled, struggling to think. “Just fuck me!” Maki shook her head in disapproval. “Say it nicely.” “Fuck…” Eli opened her eyes and watched as Maki leaned down, kissing the waistband of her shorts. Somehow the fact that Maki wasn’t facing her made it even hotter. “Please fuck me, Maki. Make me scream your name. Make me yours, please just...” Maki braced herself with one hand on Eli’s thigh and began to thrust her fingers back and forth, effectively interrupting the blonde’s aroused babbling. “You’re already mine…” She muttered more to herself than to Eli who was too busy writhing beneath her to reply anyway. “Yesss…” Eli hissed as she moved her hips in time with the thrusts of Maki’s fingers. It felt so good she could already feel herself inching toward one of the most mind blowing orgasms she’d ever had. She reached out, needily tugging at Maki’s sweats, needing to see more. Maki barely noticed her sweatpants inching down her ass as Eli tugged at them. She hardly cared anyway. It wasn’t as though she’d forbidden Eli from using her hands or touching her. The thought gave her an idea but she stored it away for later. Eli’s hands crept over her ass and up her back, touching her everywhere she could but Maki wasn’t to be distracted. She leaned down as she continued to move her fingers, pressing her lips just above them. Eli yelped and spread her legs wider to give Maki more space. She wished she could feel Maki’s tongue directly against her yet Maki kissing and licking at her above her shorts was somehow even more of a turn on. “Fuck, Maki…” She gripped Maki’s hips firmly in her hands, her eyes flitting restlessly over the skin she’d managed to expose. Maki groaned softly when Eli’s hands didn’t stay where they were for long, sliding down to grip her rear. Somehow Eli being so needy and desperate only turned her on more. She wanted to think of more ways to get her like that. She smirked at another idea she had. She would save that for an anniversary or something. She would need to research and maybe seek advice somewhere. “Maki, I-I’m going to...fuck!” Eli gripped at the covers, trying to grind forward against Maki’s fingers and mouth. The hand on her thigh kept her mostly pinned down though. “Maaakii…” Maki shivered at the way her name sounded on Eli’s lips. She increased the pace of her fingers and sucked firmly at Eli’s clit over her short. She was taken by surprise when Eli’s hips jerked forward, her back arching off the bed, even with Maki atop her and she let out a muffled scream. She was curious about it but she kept up the movement of her fingers until Eli slumped back down, spent. Maki looked over her shoulder in time to find Eli discarding a pillow she’d used to muffle her scream. She vowed to someday get Eli to scream in a place where she didn’t have to hold herself back or silence herself. Smirking smugly, Maki drew her hand from Eli’s shorts, surprised to find out how wet her fingers were. She didn’t hesitate to slide them into her mouth, humming in satisfaction to herself. Eli, panting softly watched through hooded eyes, arousal spiking again. “Fuck. M-Maki, can you do something for me?” Maki slid her fingers from her mouth, assuming Eli was going to ask her to use it. “Anything.” “Take your clothes off while I catch my breath.” Maki was puzzled but decided to do as Eli asked. She got off the bed and stripped quickly until she was completely naked. She got on the bed and went to kiss Eli only for the blonde to turn her face away. “What’s wrong?” “Straddle me like you were before.” Eli ordered, still a bit breathless and flushed. “But...my face this time.” Eli’s words were hushed and shy but Maki heard them just fine. Her stomach filled with butterflies, her centre throbbing in response. “O-On your...okay!” She carefully moved up the bed further as Eli shifted down a little. She swung one leg over Eli’s head, positioning herself over her. “A-Are you su...AH!” ---- Honoka was staring down at her uneaten lunch when a shadow fell over her, causing her to look up. She had sat herself in the far corner of the cafeteria because she hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone, especially her friend and yet Eli, Maki, Nozomi and Nico were standing in front of her. Nico sat down opposite, her tray clattering against the table. “Heard you were late this morning.” She remarked. Honoka shrugged as Eli sat down next to her, Nozomi taking a seat next to Nico while Maki sat next to Eli. “So?” “Your hair looks different.” Nozomi added carefully. It was obvious there was something wrong. “You don’t usually wear it completely down. Did you feel like a change?” Honoka shrugged again. Maki cleared her throat, deciding to approach the issue directly. She leaned forward so that she could look at Honoka. “We heard that you were rude to a teacher. Does it have anything to do with Umi not being at school? Is she sick?” “Maybe.” Honoka answered vaguely, not bothering to look up. “Just leave it alone, I don’t want to talk about it.” “Honoka, we’re just trying to help.” Eli said gently. “As the student council president, you can’t snap at teachers when y-” “Why don’t you just shut up?!” Honoka snapped angrily, reaching the end of her patience. Eli flinched next to her while the others stared at her in shock. Even Nico was taken by surprise. Honoka never snapped at Eli. “Honoka, she’s just trying to help you.” Maki said defensively. “She’s worried about you, just like the rest of us. There’s no need to yell at her. If you don’t want to te-” “Maki, shut the hell up.” Nico ordered, her gaze fixed on Honoka. The fact that the girl was sitting opposite her meant that she could see the tears that laced her eyes. She didn’t look like she’d slept much either. She reached across the table and grasped Honoka’s hand. “Hey. What happened?” “She came out to her family.” Honoka answered weakly, squeezing Nico’s hand back. Maki’s eyes widened as Eli looked away uncomfortably. Nozomi, sensing what was coming looked down at her hands. “Her dad was...awful.” Honoka continued. She paused for a moment to blink back tears and swallow against the lump in her throat. “He slapped her and told her to get out s-so she’s living with me for now. My mom told her to take the day off because she was awake most of the night crying.I was late this morning because I could tell she was upset that I had to leave and I-I didn’t want to go but I had to.” “Shit.” Eli slipped her arms around Honoka, hugging her tightly from the side. “What about your parents?” Nozomi asked quietly. “Are they okay with it? Do they know? If the two of you need somewhere to stay when they find out I’m always here.” “Thank you, Nozomi.” Honoka quickly wiped her eyes. “But my parents are fine with it. They’re actually happy it’s Umi-chan. My mom is ecstatic about it. She loves Umi-chan. Everyone in my family does...” “That’s good.” Eli murmured, gently rubbing Honoka’s back. She looked over her shoulder at Maki who was suddenly very quiet, her eyes fixed to her lap. She reached out and grasped Maki’s hand, recognizing the look of guilt on her face. Maki managed a small smile. She shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at Honoka in retaliation. She should have been calm and gentle, like Honoka had with her so many times before. Nico took a deep breath. It was a lot to take in. “Does she need us to go and get her stuff? Nozomi and I can pick it up for her if she wants. I can’t promise I won’t key her dad’s car though…” Honoka managed a giggle at that. She could imagine Nico doing that. “My dad’s going to get it today. With Yukiho, he said. I guess she must be taking the day off or they’re going later. T-There is something you can all do though. If you want.” “Anything.” Maki said sincerely. “M-Maybe you can all come after school today?” Honoka asked hopefully. “I know she’d love to see you. Especially you, Maki-chan…” “Me?” Maki asked in surprise. “Why me?” “Well she told me that you really helped her over the past few weeks.” Honoka said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I think you really make her feel better. A-And Nozomi too, you make everyone feel better when they’re upset. And Nico-chan, you can help cheer her up.” “Am I invited?” Eli joked, giving Honoka a gentle nudge. Honoka offered a small smile. “I need you there for me too. And Umi of course. Can you all come? Please?” “Of course.” Nozomi said softly. “But um...what about Kotori-chan?” Fury flitted across Honoka’s features. “She hates Umi-chan. She told me so. I don’t want her anywhere near Umi-chan right now.” Nozomi wanted to protest and tell Honoka that Kotori had only said that in the heat of the moment. She’d said so herself. She stayed quiet though, nodding mutely.

TBC

#HonoUmi #EliMaki #NozoEli #NozoNico #KotoHono #KotoBiki #Fanfiction

41 notes · View notes