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writesvani · 2 months ago

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say you remember | 02

idol!minyoongi x writer!reader

SUMMARY: You don’t expect much when your eyes meet his across the café-bar—just a fleeting glance, a moment that should mean nothing. But then there’s another look. And another. Before you know it, you’re tangled up in something that isn’t love, isn’t commitment—just an escape wrapped in late-night encounters and whispered goodbyes.

It’s fine. Until it isn’t.

When feelings start creeping in, you both decide to walk away before things get too complicated. It should have ended there. But fate has other plans. When your friend starts dating Jungkook—his best friend, his bandmate—you find yourself face to face with Yoongi once again.

The past lingers between you, heavy and unresolved. The question is—was it ever really over?

strangers-to-fwb-to-strangers-to-lovers

TRIGGER WARNINGS: jealousy, unresolved past relationships, awkward social interactions, emotional tension, flirtation, suppressed feelings, anxiety, unspoken love, betrayal, unrequited feelings, uncomfortable confrontation, smoking, drinking

comment here for to Say You Remember taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 7k // date: 15th of April 2025

CHAPTER TWO — Drowning in the Silence Between Us; happy reading my gummies...

AN: hii guys. im so excited for this chapter, i LOVE it. it's so funny. like, i'm over here cackling like a mad person. it's honestly kinda self projecting but oh well, i'm embracing it. who needs boundaries when you're writing, right?

also, just to clear things up, y/n's book dear me is in no way connected with my jungkook fic dear me (imagine the drama if it was). it's just that i couldn’t think of a name for her book, so i just borrowed the name from one of my own fics. i promise i'm not secretly inserting my own universe into this. but yeah, dear me in this fic is y/n's book and it's all original with her own characters. okay, enjoy the chaos.

also, goal for this chapter is 250 notes. i am not lowering it this time. i fed you well with this one, 7k words after all, so if you want a new meal, y'all will have to work for it. get those notes in!

"Remind me again why we still don't know his name?" Chul asks, flatly, as he sets down three steaming mugs with the precision of a tired barista.

"Because it's still new," Aecha says, wrapping her hands around her cup. "And I want it to stay good before I jinx it by saying too much. You know how it goes—tell people, suddenly the whole thing collapses like a cheap tent."

You narrow your eyes, flicking ash off your cigarette with a pointed look. "People? Are we people to you now? Damn. And here I thought we made it past that stage."

Aecha just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"It’s not just that, though," you go on, leaning forward. "It’s like you're actively enjoying this whole mystery-man act. Like you want us to suffer trying to figure out who he is."

"Maybe I do," she says, taking another sip. "You two make great detectives when you're desperate."

Chul groans, flopping onto the couch. "Great. So now we’re just a part of your little game."

"You’ve always been a part of my little game," she says with a wink.

"You see how little she thinks of us?" you say, shooting Chul a look of betrayal.

Chul nods with theatrical disappointment, letting out a long, dramatic sigh as he leans back in his chair. "Our own goddamn roommate. Best friend, even. And we’re apparently not worthy of a name."

"Ugh, it’s not like that," Aecha groans, setting her mug down with a soft clink. "It’s just… complicated, okay? You’ll understand when you meet him."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah? If we ever get to meet him. At this rate, you’ll be married with two kids before we even know his star sign."

"It would be nice to know who we’re meeting at least," Chul adds, more gently now. "Y’know, in case he’s a serial killer or a tax evader or something."

Aecha snorts. "He’s not a serial killer. Or a tax evader."

"That’s exactly what someone dating a serial killer would say," you deadpan, taking a slow drag of your cigarette.

"Oh, oh—wait. I have a theory," you say, tapping your fingers against the edge of the small wooden table. It’s sticky. "Ugh. Chul, seriously? Did you skip cleaning duty again?"

"Creative minds don't clean," Chul mumbles, unbothered.

You roll your eyes. "Anyway. Theory time. What if he's, like, a dealer? Or—wait—a vampire baby? Be honest, Aecha. Is your man an immortal bloodsucker with a side hustle in illegal substances? Because if so, I support you, I just need to emotionally prepare."

Aecha snorts into her coffee. "He is not a dealer. Or a vampire. God, what even is a vampire baby?"

"You know… baby-faced. Pale. Broody. Hangs out in corners. Likes antique furniture." You gesture vaguely, like you're describing a wine.

"Still no," Aecha says, but her smile slips just a little. "But I will say... he’s not exactly someone I can just go around telling people I’m dating."

You and Chul exchange glances.

"Jesus, who is he then?" Chul says, leaning forward with his chin on his hand. "C’mon, babe. All this secrecy is exhausting. You’re wearing us down like some kind of a psychological warfare expert."

Aecha just shrugs again, lips curving into that maddening, knowing smile. "Good things come to those who wait.”

"Aaand, c’mon, guys," Aecha sighs, blowing on her coffee before taking a small sip. "It’s not like I’m keeping you waiting forever. For fuck’s sake, you’ll be meeting him—and his closest friends—tonight."

Chul’s eyes narrow, a slow, wicked grin forming. Then, in a low, ominous whisper, he leans in toward you. "Imagine they’re a group of human traffickers... and Aecha’s just their charming recruiter."

You snort. "Okay, that’s a little too specific, Chul."

"I’m just saying," he continues, eyes wide with mock horror, "if I end up stuffed in a trunk or smuggled across borders, I want it on record that she brought me to this dinner."

"No, but seriously?" you add, more dramatic than necessary. "I’m telling my mother where I’m going. If I disappear, she will avenge me."

"God, you’re both insane," Aecha mutters, laughing into her cup.

"Insane but prepared," Chul says. "That’s how survivors think.”

The fact that Aecha won’t even tell you her boyfriend’s name is… mildly weird. Actually, scratch that—it’s very weird. She’s never been the secretive type. If anything, she’s the kind of person who gives you the full name, zodiac sign, and three red flags of any guy she’s crushing on—whether it's someone she matched with for five minutes or actually dated for five weeks.

So the silence now? The mystery? It’s not just out of character—it’s loud.

Whoever this guy is, he must matter. Like, really matter. Either that, or something about him makes things complicated. And that? That makes you uneasy.

The idea of Aecha dating an idol has crossed your mind more than once. And honestly, that would be a solid reason to keep things secret. It makes sense. It fits.

But you try not to go there. Because you know. You know how messy it gets when people get tangled up in that world—the kind of dynamic that drains you, strips your privacy, and leaves you more alone than you were to begin with. The pressure, the lies, the heartbreak that's practically guaranteed.

So you don’t think about it. Or at least you try not to. It's easier to joke about vampire boyfriends or underground crime syndicates than to face a possibility that actually makes sense. A possibility that could genuinely hurt her.

Especially with her job—working in the digital marketing team at SM Entertainment—she’s in it. Right there, in the orbit of fame and its gravitational mess. And the odds of her meeting someone who lives in that spotlight? High. Too high.

And that’s what makes it worse.

"Aight, I gotta bounce. My shift starts in 45 minutes and I actually wanna keep this job," Chul groans, tossing back the last sip of lukewarm coffee like it’s tequila.

He gets up, drags himself to the sink, and starts washing his cup with the enthusiasm of a man being held at gunpoint.

"Wow," you say, raising an eyebrow. "Look who finally discovered the kitchen sink."

"I’m only doing this so you don’t go full FBI on me about it later," he mutters.

"That’s called growth, baby."

"Okay, don’t forget dinner!" Aecha calls out as he wrestles with his shoelaces like they personally offended him. "8PM sharp. LaRoy’s. If you're late, I’m telling them you died."

"Relax," he grunts, halfway into his hoodie. "I’ll be there. But just so we’re clear—if this turns out to be some cult initiation dinner, I’m eating first, then running."

"That’s fair," you nod. "Die with a full stomach. Iconic."

"Also, if I get kidnapped, I’m haunting you both. And I’m not gonna be a chill ghost. I’ll whisper embarrassing shit during your Zoom calls."

"Joke’s on you, I already embarrass myself daily," you shrug. "You’d be background noise."

"Love the support, really. Bye, losers."

And with that, he’s gone—probably already mentally composing his resignation letter.

When Chul leaves, it’s just you and Aecha again.

She’s immediately back on her phone, nails tapping out soft clicks against the screen—the kind of ASMR sound that weirdly soothes your brain. She’s smiling. Small, but there. The kind of smile reserved for someone. Mystery Man.

You don’t poke at her this time. Instead, you open your laptop, skimming through the last chapter you wrote, wincing at some of your word choices like they personally betrayed you.

"What are you doing today?" Aecha asks without looking up, but you can tell she’s peeled her eyes away from the screen just enough to look at you.

You sigh. "Writing. Or dying. Depends how dramatic I feel in an hour. I have to finish at least one chapter today or else both my editor and publisher are going to show up at my funeral just to make sure I’m really dead."

"Damn," she laughs, "at least you're being emotionally tortured by something you love."

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "I do love it. I just hate the part where I have to prove I'm not a lazy roach every three days. But don’t worry, I’ll be there for dinner. There’s no way I’m missing the grand reveal of Mr. No-Name."

"Good," Aecha says, biting back a grin. "I’ll be with him today. He’s got the day off—those are basically unicorn sightings. I’ll get ready at his place."

You gape. "Wait, so I’m stuck getting ready with Chul? Girl, you know he’s gonna stand in the doorway and trash all my outfit options like he’s a one-man 'Project Runway' judge panel."

"Oh absolutely," Aecha says, nodding. "You should prepare a backup outfit he picks. Just for the chaos."

"He’d probably put me in Crocs and a poncho just to see me suffer."

"And you’d still serve."

You glance up from your laptop. "I would, wouldn’t I?”

"Of course you would," Aecha grins, all smug and mysterious.

And then? Silence. The kind where you’re both in your little bubbles—her giggling at her phone like it’s whispering sweet nothings, and you glaring at your laptop like it just slapped your mom.

You’re trying to write. You really are. But this one scene is being stubborn. No matter how many times you rewrite it, it still reads like garbage written by a sleep-deprived raccoon with WiFi.

Your eye twitches.

Then—RING RING.

"Shit, he’s here?!" Aecha yelps, launching off the couch like she just sat on a ghost. She’s grabbing her purse, her wallet, a random sock, possibly someone’s toothbrush—you’re not even sure anymore.

"Wait, where is here?" you ask, blinking through the chaos.

"Here-here! Like, downstairs-here! Picking-me-up-here!" she hisses, as she smacks on lipstick with the grace of someone who's clearly done this in moving vehicles before.

"Damn, thank god you’re chill about it," you say, watching the storm unfold.

"Shut up," she breathes, checking herself in the mirror like she’s about to accept an Oscar.

She turns to you, one shoe on, purse hanging half open, still looking criminally good. "Okay, I’m leaving. See you tonight, babe!"

"Byeeeeee," you sing, and wait exactly 2.4 seconds after the door shuts before sprinting to the window like you’re in a Netflix thriller.

Full. Detective. Mode.

If she won’t tell you who this guy is, you’re gonna Nancy Drew your way into the answer.

You peek through the blinds—subtle, of course. Very stealth. But all you see is a car.

A very nice car.

A sexy, blacked-out, borderline Batman-looking Mercedes G 63.

You whistle under your breath. “Sir, what do you do for a living? And can I do it too?”

The windows are tinted darker than your search history. There’s no way to see inside. Just Aecha getting in, flipping her hair like this is her life now and the rest of you peasants can stay pressed.

The car glides away like it’s floating on money.

You stand there, blinking, brain already spiraling. Rich? Idol? CEO? Cult leader with good branding?

You sigh and flop back down on the couch.

“Good for her,” you mumble. “Eat the rich. Or at least… ride in their cars and moisturize with their money.”

You spend the rest of your day in the most unproductive, soul-crushing spiral imaginable. The kind of spiral where you stare at your laptop for so long, the blinking cursor starts to feel like it’s mocking you. Blink. Blink. You suck. Blink.

You write half a sentence. Delete it. Write a new one. Delete that too. Open Instagram. Hate everyone. Go back to the doc. Stare at the same three words for twenty minutes.

Your brain is soup. Not even good soup. Like watery instant ramen you forgot to flavor.

At one point, you dramatically flop face-down onto the couch and heavily consider committing one of two crimes:

One: Emailing your editor a resignation letter that just says "goodbye forever."

Two: Getting blackout drunk and letting the creative spirits possess you.

Option two is dangerously tempting. Tequila does make you poetic. But… you’re going to a dinner tonight. With Aecha’s mystery man and his friends. The man who drives a car that probably costs more than your organs combined.

You want to be sober. Observant. Ready to judge.

Because listen—if the man owns a Mercedes G 63, you know he’s dropping at least a couple hundred on wine tonight. You refuse to let his overpriced bottle taste like grape vinegar just because you had a solo pity party before dinner.

So you wait. Like a sad wife staring out the window for her husband at war. Except the war is Chul’s corporate shift and the husband is your emotional stability.

“Where the hell is he…” you mutter, tapping your pen against your notebook.

You have no idea what you’re wearing tonight. You have no mental energy to figure it out. You need Chul. You need his critiques, his sighs of disappointment, his dramatic gasp when you suggest wearing sneakers.

God help you if he comes home late. Or worse—if he says he’s too tired to help.

You might genuinely cry.

When the door finally creaks open, you let out a sigh of dramatic relief, like a damsel rescued from a burning building.

“I’m baaack!” Chul calls, dragging out the vowels. You hear the familiar thud of shoes being kicked off and keys clattering into the bowl by the door before he saunters into the living room like he owns the place—which, okay, partially, he does.

He takes one look at you, curled up on the couch like a cryptid, laptop half-slid down your lap, face twisted in literary despair.

“You writing?” he asks, already suspicious.

“Trying to,” you mumble, eyes still glued to the cursed blinking cursor.

He squints at you. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Not at all.”

He flops down beside you with a grunt, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it like it personally owes him money.

“Is it like… ‘I can’t write because I’m empty inside’ trying? Or ‘I can’t write because I accidentally stalked Aecha’s mystery man via car model and now my brain is fried’ trying?”

You blink at him.

“Both.”

“Knew it. You’re a menace.”

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “He drives a G 63, Chul. What kind of a man does that? What kind of bank account does that?”

Chul gasps. “A dangerous one. Probably moisturizes with La Mer and screams at assistants named Greg.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, processing the sheer luxury of the situation.

“…We have to look hot tonight.” you mutter.

Chul tosses the pillow aside like it’s a grenade. “I’ll get the steamer.”

The next two hours turn into a full-blown getting ready montage, complete with outfit changes, near-death experiences with the eyelash curler, and Chul nearly setting the apartment on fire trying to steam his shirt.

By the time you’re done, you look like a Pinterest board brought to life. Your makeup is peak clean girl aesthetic—dewy skin, fluffy brows, and just the right amount of highlighter to make it look like you're always basking in golden hour. Your hair is curled to soft, effortless perfection (even though it took 45 minutes and one minor burn), and your white, off-shoulder dress hugs your body like it was custom-made for night.

Chul, on the other hand, looks like he walked straight out of a K-drama. He’s wearing these dangerously good khaki dress pants that somehow make his legs look ten feet long, and a white button-up that he very intentionally left two buttons undone. It’s giving “CEO with a tragic past”, and honestly? If he wasn’t so aggressively gay, you'd have jumped him in the hallway by now.

“Do I look hot?” he asks, spinning slowly.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Tragic,” he sighs, spritzing himself with cologne like he’s about to go on a date with destiny.

The ride to the restaurant is weirdly silent. You and Chul keep exchanging glances like you’re in a horror movie where the monster is definitely hiding in plain sight. Both of you are too nervous to say anything out loud, like the car itself might snitch to Aecha.

When you finally step inside LaRoy’s, the first thing that hits you is how insanely gorgeous the place is. It’s giving Michelin star meets royalty on vacation. Golden chandeliers, velvet chairs, waiters with actual white gloves. You’re about to comment on it when—

“Wait... where is everyone?” Chul whispers.

And yeah. That’s when it hits you. The place is completely empty. Not a single other customer in sight. Just you, Chul, and an unsettling level of ambiance.

Chul and you exchange the we’re-definitely-about-to-die look.

Then, a pristine-looking hostess materializes out of nowhere like she was programmed to show up at maximum tension.

“Chul and Y/N?”

You both answer in unison, way too synchronized for comfort:

“Yes.”

“Right this way.”

You follow her through the overly quiet restaurant like you’re walking toward your own funeral. You glance at Chul, who is now casually patting down his hair and silently mouthing, ‘We’re so screwed’.

And then—you see her.

Aecha. Sitting at a massive round table like she owns the damn place. She’s already mid-laugh when she spots you two, and her smile somehow manages to get bigger. Like she's been waiting for this exact moment of dramatic entrance.

You don’t know if you should wave or run. Probably both.

And then you see the hand.

That hand—casually draped over Aecha’s shoulder, a silent claim.

You already know where this is going, but it doesn’t stop the twist in your stomach when you finally see who’s sitting next to her.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you freeze. You don’t even care about the fact that he’s ridiculously good-looking, or how the room feels like it’s just a bit too bright. No. What hits you like a freight train is that if he’s here...

Yoongi is, too.

Fuck.

You don’t even need to look around the table to know. The feeling crawls up your spine like a warning signal, one that you’ve tried to ignore for years, but here it is, loud and unavoidable. The tightness in your chest. The pulse of nausea that makes you want to choke on your own breath.

You can’t look at Jungkook. You can’t.

Because if you do, the truth slaps you right across the face, and it’s one you’ve been running from. Jungkook is just a mess of questions you don’t care to have answered. But Yoongi? Yoongi’s the reason your heart beats too fast, why you’re still tangled in memories you should have let go of.

And then you see him.

Jesus.

The way his eyes land on you is like it’s been years since you last saw each other—and honestly, that's the truth. Two years. Two years passed. The ache that pulls at your ribs, the rawness that floods you, is something you thought had faded into oblivion. You thought you were over it.

But it’s never that easy, is it?

Chul notices immediately, the shift in your expression, the way your posture changes, rigid as though you’ve been frozen by some invisible force. His hand rests on your arm gently, a silent question. But what can you say? What can you explain without laying it all bare in front of people who have no idea about your history with him?

And you know it’s not just the fact that Yoongi is here—it’s that feeling. That damn ache that never really goes away. The past flooding back to suffocate you in this room full of people who have no clue what’s going on in your head.

You can’t breathe.

You’re not ready for this. You weren’t ready to see him again. Not like this. Not with Chul looking at you like he’s wondering if you’re okay.

But Yoongi? Yoongi’s eyes stay locked on yours. No words. No movement. Just that look. The one that says everything, even though it says nothing at all.

It’s like he’s still inside you. Like nothing has changed. You’re right back there, a thousand moments too many.

And it hits you—the final realization that this dinner isn’t just awkward. It’s a damn reminder of all the unfinished business you wish you could bury.

You’ve never felt so out of control.

“Oh my God, hi guys,” Aecha stands up with that familiar sparkle in her eye, wrapping you in a hug that feels tighter than usual. You hug her back, but your hands are clammy, your heart heavy in your chest. The warmth in her smile is real—but you can’t match it right now. Not with everything pressing down on you.

You force a breath as your gaze flickers over the table. You skip him. You skip Yoongi. On purpose.

Your hand finds the hem of your dress, discreetly wiping off the sweat as you steel yourself to be polite. Presentable. Normal.

Jungkook stands to greet you, that signature sweetness etched into every corner of his face. “Hey, I’m Jungkook,” he says, extending his hand. He doesn’t know. You see it immediately. There’s no recognition of your history—only curiosity, maybe a spark of interest, but nothing more.

You shake his hand, offering a small smile. “Nice to meet you.” Chul introduces himself too, and Jungkook lights up, immediately vibing with him, which helps, a little. The rest of the guys are friendly, laid-back. They smile, say their names, nod politely. It should feel normal.

But then.

He stands.

And everything slows.

“Min Yoongi,” he says evenly, his tone smooth and familiar in the worst way. He extends his hand, and for a moment you freeze. You think about ignoring it. About pretending. But that would draw too much attention—especially with Aecha watching so closely.

So you take it.

Your name slips from your mouth like it doesn’t belong to you. Like it’s a line from a script you’ve forgotten how to feel.

His skin is warm. You wish it wasn’t.

It lasts no more than a second. But when you sit down, your whole body feels altered.

Chul’s next, his handshake with Yoongi stiffer, his eyes avoiding yours. You don’t need to ask to know—he’s silently panicking. He knows everything. And you’re both trying to act like nothing happened, like Yoongi and you didn’t ruin each other once and then vanish from each other's worlds.

Namjoon watches. Quietly. Sharp eyes missing nothing.

You wonder if Yoongi gave him the full truth. Or just enough to keep him quiet.

Either way—this dinner is going to suck.

You settle into your chairs, side by side like you're bracing for impact. On your right sits Kim Taehyung, draped in luxury like it's a second skin, sipping water like it's champagne. On Chul’s left, Yoongi is already sprawled in his chair, legs stretched out like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Honestly? Mood.

You flick your eyes at Chul. He looks like he’s debating whether to throw up or chug the complimentary sparkling water. No in-between.

“Sooo,” Chul finally speaks, voice artificially light. “Give us the story of how you two met. Like okay, you’re dating him,” he points a thumb at Jungkook, “but you work for SM, not HYBE.”

Aecha beams, clearly ready for this part. “It was during a promotional event the guys were at. I was there handling digital strategy for EXO, and Jungkook was invited as a guest and—”

“She was holding an iPad like it was a weapon,” Jungkook cuts in with a laugh, eyes crinkling. “I was just trying to ask where the restrooms were, and she looked at me like I was trying to hack the mainframe.”

“I did,” Aecha says dramatically. “He walked up all shy like, ‘Excuse me—’ and I was like, ‘Do not distract me, I’m in the middle of an algorithmic miracle.’”

“Which turned out to be a TikTok schedule,” Jungkook deadpans.

“Hey. That TikTok trended for three days. I saved Baekhyun’s brand.”

They’re laughing. Everyone at the table joins in. Except you.

And Yoongi.

Taehyung leans a little closer, eyes twinkling. “So what about you two?” he asks innocently, gesturing between you and Chul.

“We’re not together,” you and Chul say in perfect sync, too quickly, like soldiers trained for battle.

“Oh,” Taehyung blinks. “I mean—okay.”

“Yeah,” Chul coughs, “I’m very gay and she’s very… emotionally unavailable.”

“Thanks for that,” you mutter, shooting him a glare.

“What? You are.”

“Okay but you once cried because the guy you liked didn’t like The 1975.”

“Because he had no taste,” Chul hisses back.

Namjoon snorts into his glass. Yoongi remains silent. You can feel him, though—his presence heavier than anything on the menu. He hasn’t looked at you once. Not since the handshake. But you know he’s listening. You know.

Aecha smiles brightly. “Isn’t this nice? Everyone vibing already!”

You glance at her, then at Yoongi’s shoulder half a meter away from yours. You're practically inhaling the same air and pretending he’s a stranger.

Yeah.

Nice.

Totally vibing.

“So,” Aecha starts, swirling her wine like she didn’t just drop a social grenade, “What’s everyone getting? The truffle risotto is apparently divine.”

You reach for the menu like it might shield you from the tension building beside you. Yoongi still hasn’t spoken. Still hasn’t looked at you. It’s like sitting next to a ghost you used to let touch you.

Chul nudges your knee under the table. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s silently asking if you’re okay. You’re not. But you nod anyway.

“I’ll probably get the steak,” Jungkook says. “Haven’t eaten properly all day.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Taehyung mutters. “You only drink iced americanos and chew gum like it’s a food group.”

“I’m a busy man.”

“You’re chronically late.”

“Still busy.”

Yoongi finally speaks. “Get the steak rare,” he mutters without looking up, “They overcook everything past medium.”

His voice. It slashes through the air like a knife dipped in nostalgia and regret. You freeze for half a second. Just half. But Chul notices.

“Ohhh, steak boy speaks,” Taehyung says dramatically.

Yoongi doesn’t respond. Just drinks his water.

“So, Yoongi,” Aecha smiles, “still working on that solo album?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

“How’s it going?” she asks sweetly.

“Like a root canal. But with synths.”

The table laughs. You don’t. You remember what he sounds like at 3am talking about chord progressions and bridges like they’re living things. You remember that look in his eyes when he finished a song and asked you to listen first. You remember a version of him that smiled at you across a messy bed, not across a dinner table full of other people.

You sip your wine. You need something stronger.

Namjoon clears his throat. “So, Y/N,” he says, forcing a new topic, “Aecha said you’re a writer?”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. I write romance.”

“Like… smut?”

Taehyung leans in, curious. Too curious.

Chul coughs loudly. “Not just smut.”

“I mean… a little smut,” you admit, shrugging, because what else are you gonna do? Lie?

“That’s dope,” Jungkook grins, nodding. “That takes guts.”

Yoongi still doesn’t say anything.

“I read one of her books once,” Chul announces, like he’s proud. “Couldn’t look her in the eye for a week.”

“Because you read the scene,” you mutter.

“Oh, you know I read the scene.”

“Wait,” Taehyung interrupts, eyes wide. “Do you base your characters on real people?”

You open your mouth to answer, but before anything leaves your lips, Yoongi suddenly stands.

“I’m gonna smoke,” he mutters, already walking away before anyone can respond.

Silence follows in his wake. Chul clears his throat.

“I’d say he’s always like that but… he’s not.” Jimin sighs into his wine.

You stab at your salad like it insulted your lineage.

And Aecha, bless her clueless soul, just smiles and says, “Maybe I will get that risotto.”

When Yoongi comes back, the conversation is already flowing. The wine’s been poured (maybe a little too generously), the bread basket is on its second refill, and you’re three laughs deep into a story with Jin and Taehyung.

You didn’t dare follow him outside. Nope. Not a chance. You weren’t about to chase a ghost into the night like it’s some 2014 Tumblr breakup playlist.

So you stayed, committed to the bit, committed to pretending your past isn’t three chairs away and brooding in black. Well he was smoking outside. But you get the point.

And now? You’re vibing.

“Wait, you’re telling me you were the one who wrote Dear Me?” Taehyung says, eyes wide like you just told him you invented bread.

You nod, sipping your wine like it’s a mic drop.

“That would be me.”

“NO.” His jaw is dropped. “No no no. That book ruined my entire week. I didn't leave my room. I didn't eat.”

Jin leans forward dramatically. “I read that one. I didn’t come out of my room for three days after that. Why is it so fucking sad?”

You grin. “It’s called talent. Look it up.”

Jin places a hand over his heart like you stabbed him. “Do you thrive on making your readers cry?”

“I mean…” You shrug. “A little. It’s character development. For you, not the characters.”

“Twisted,” Taehyung mumbles. “You need therapy.”

“And yet here you are, emotionally wrecked and asking for more.”

“You’re dangerous,” Jin points at you. “You’re like one of those hot witches in fantasy novels who curse people with heartbreak and then look hot doing it.”

You raise your glass. “Cheers.”

That’s when you feel it—him.

Yoongi slides back into his chair, and even though you don’t look at him, you know. You know from the slight shift in the table. The way the energy dips by ten degrees. The way Chul subtly straightens up like he might have to go full bodyguard in two seconds.

“So,” Namjoon says, like he’s stepping between a lit fuse and a barrel of gunpowder, “Yoongi, did you smoke the entire pack or just half?”

“Depends,” Yoongi replies flatly. “Did the conversation get better while I was gone?”

“Oh,” Jin grins, “way better. She wrote Dear Me.”

Yoongi stills. You don’t look at him. But you hear it in the pause. The inhale. The weight of a book title that he knows isn’t fiction.

“That book,” Jin continues, oblivious, “is basically emotional waterboarding.”

Yoongi takes a slow sip of his drink. “Sounds familiar.”

Your hand tightens around your glass. So we’re doing this. We’re being subtle.

“It’s fiction,” you say brightly. “Totally made up. Not a single shred of truth in it.”

Yoongi finally glances at you, eyes sharp. “Right. Fiction.”

Taehyung, bless his heart, frowns. “Wait. Is this about that scene with the voicemail? ‘Cause that—”

Chul loudly coughs and drops his fork.

“Anyway,” he says, “Jungkook, how’s your dog?”

Jungkook blinks. “Uhh… he’s good?”

“Great. Cool. Let’s talk more about that.”

The table dissolves into messy conversation again, everyone just a little too loud, a little too animated. You finally risk a glance at Yoongi. He’s looking at you, of course.

And beneath the casual disinterest, his eyes say it loud and clear:

You really thought I wouldn’t recognize myself in your pages?

You take another sip of wine and look away.

You were the one who told me to write what I know.

“Sooo,” Taehyung sings, one eyebrow cocked and eyes glittering as they dart to you. His voice alone is dangerous—smooth and teasing, the kind that could talk you into trouble without breaking a sweat. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You pause mid-sip, arching a brow. “Umm, I’m pretty sure Chul already mentioned my emotional unavailability.”

Across the table, Chul snorts. “That’s an understatement.”

“Maybe,” Taehyung leans in a little, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, “we can work on that one.”

You blink. “What, my issues?”

“No,” he grins, wolfish and playful. “Your availability.”

Hoseok doesn’t look up from cutting his steak, but his fork slows. “Taehyung.”

“What?” Taehyung says innocently, eyes still trained on you. “We’re just talking. I’m curious. I like to connect with people.”

“Yeah, well maybe let her breathe before you start undressing her with your eyes,” Jimin mutters, sipping his wine.

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “let him. I put effort into this dress.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung points at you. “You wore it for a reason, don’t lie.”

You lean back, smirking. “I wore it for the free wine, actually.”

Yoongi mutters under his breath, “Still desperate for the buzz, huh?”

You don’t even look at him. “Still pretending like you’re too good for anything fun, huh?”

There’s a pause. A weird pause.

And then Jungkook narrows his eyes between the two of you. “Wait. Hold on. You two know each other?”

Namjoon’s knife slips and scrapes against his plate with a loud screech. Chul straight up drops his fork.

You blink slowly, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Define know.”

“I knew it,” Taehyung leans forward, eyes wide with delight.

“No, no, no, it’s not like that,” Chul jumps in, hands raised like he’s waving off a scandal. “They… uh, they were in a workshop together.”

You shoot him a look. A “really?” kind of look.

Namjoon nods way too fast. “Yeah. Yeah! Like two years ago. They had a, uh… poetry workshop?”

“Poetry?” Jin asks, clearly unconvinced. “Yoongi?”

Yoongi just stares blankly at the table like he’s counting down the seconds till he can leave.

“Yep,” Namjoon barrels forward. “Modern poetry. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 8 a.m. Real intense syllabus.”

“Exactly,” Chul laughs awkwardly. “Like, Emily Dickinson, Rupi Kaur… very deep.”

“I dropped out after three weeks,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, squinting at him, then at you. “And you stayed in?”

You nod, cheeks warm. “Loved every second of it.”

Taehyung’s trying not to laugh. “Okay, sure. What was your favorite poem?”

You deadpan, “The one about heartbreak and regret.”

Yoongi mutters under his breath, “Original.”

You snap back, “At least I read something.”

Chul loudly clears his throat. “So, um, wine! Should we order another bottle?”

Namjoon nearly slams his glass down. “Yes. Definitely. Someone flag a waiter.”

Taehyung hums, still eyeing you like he’s crafting a sonnet in his head. “Tell you what—if we survive this night, I’m taking you out. No emotional unavailability allowed.”

You raise a brow. “And what if I ghost you after?”

He smirks. “Then I’ll write a sad poem and hope it gets published. Sound familiar?”

Jimin jumps in, glancing at Chul. “So what is going on with you two, huh?”

“We’re roommates,” Chul replies, deadpan.

“Roommates who get ready together for dinner like it’s prom night?” Yoongi mutters, not even looking up from his glass.

“Dude. I already said—I’m into men. I like penises. Hope this helps.”

The entire table erupts.

Taehyung nearly falls out of his chair laughing. Jin bangs the table. Namjoon mutters, “I needed that level of honesty today.”

Jungkook wheezes, “I’m framing that quote.”

Meanwhile, you're crying from laughter and embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands. “God, Chul, you’re so dramatic.”

“I’m not dramatic, I’m just tired of being confused for your boyfriend when I’m actively fantasizing about Park Seojoon,” Chul fires back.

Jimin, without even looking up from his plate, goes, “Honestly, mood.”

Jin wipes a tear from his eye. “Okay, fair. Penises. Got it.”

Taehyung raises his glass toward Chul. “To penises.”

Everyone clinks their glasses—except you, still dying inside.

“So,” Namjoon says, pointing his chopsticks at you like they’re a lie detector, “are you working on something new?”

You freeze mid-sip of your wine. “Uhh… kinda yeah.”

“Okay, so that’s a yes, but it’s going terribly,” Jin interprets, nodding sagely.

You sigh, dramatically collapsing back in your chair. “It’s like… my brain is a hamster wheel. Except the hamster died. And now the wheel is just creaking ominously in the wind.”

Taehyung gasps. “That’s so dark. I love it. Can I be the dead hamster?”

“Please,” you deadpan, “be my guest.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So it’s writer’s block?”

“Big time. Like, I’ve stared at a blank document for so long, I think it’s starting to stare back.”

Chul chimes in, “I found her today whispering ‘just one sentence’ to her laptop like it owed her money.”

“It does owe me money,” you say, poking at your food. “And dignity.”

Aecha grins. “Have you tried turning it off and crying?”

Yoongi mutters, “That’s my approach to life, honestly.”

“Oh my god, same,” you say, raising your glass toward him.

Taehyung, ever the opportunist, leans in with a flirty glint in his eye. “Maybe you just need some fresh inspiration.”

You raise a brow. “Are you volunteering?”

“I mean…” he shrugs, smirking. “I do look good in tragic love stories.”

“Tragic is right,” Yoongi mumbles under his breath.

Namjoon laughs. “Okay, okay—can we please get a live reading if she ever finishes it?”

You scoff. “Only if you promise not to cry.”

“I make no such promises,” Namjoon says, holding up his hands. “According to Tae and Jin, you write pain too well.”

Taehyung leans in again, this time resting his chin on his hand, eyes twinkling. “I’m serious. Write something hopeful. Like a tortured writer meets a charming stranger in a too-fancy restaurant. Sparks fly. Banter ensues. Maybe a little—” he pauses, eyes flickering to your lips, “—tension.”

You chuckle, but you feel the heat creep up your neck. “What are you trying to do, cast yourself as the love interest?”

Jin jumps in, laughing. “Please, the man’s been auditioning since the appetizers.”

“Can you blame me?” Taehyung says dramatically. “She’s hot, she’s funny, and she writes angst that emotionally ruins people. I’m practically in love already.”

Yoongi’s fork clinks a little too hard against his plate.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, sensing the shift. “You okay, hyung?”

Yoongi shrugs, not looking up. “Just didn’t realize we were casting for a romcom tonight.”

“You wanna audition too?” Jin grins. “Could be a love triangle.”

“I don’t do love triangles,” Yoongi mutters, swirling his drink. “Too messy.”

Chul snorts. “Says the guy who practically invented emotional mess but ‘make it music’.”

You glance at him, curious, but Yoongi doesn’t take the bait. Instead, his eyes flicker up and lock with yours for a split second—just long enough for your breath to catch.

Taehyung doesn’t miss it, and he grins wider, leaning closer to you. “Well, if it were a love triangle, I’d fight dirty.”

“Oh my god,” Chul groans. “This is officially a Wattpad fic now.”

“Shut up,” you say, biting your lip to hold back a smile.

Taehyung winks. “I’ll be waiting for my cameo in chapter five.”

Aecha leans forward, swirling her wine lazily. “Yoongi, didn’t you say you’ve been dealing with a block too?”

Yoongi gives a slow nod, jaw ticking slightly. “Yeah. It’s been rough. But, you know… it comes with the territory. It’s part of the process, unfortunately.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raising slightly as he continues.

“I’m not really in a rush, though. The next album isn’t coming out until next year anyway. D-Day’s still pretty fresh. Still got some breathing room.”

Aecha perks up instantly. “Oh my God, D-Day! We were obsessed. The three of us actually had a whole listening party when it dropped. Like, wine, snacks, full breakdowns of lyrics... tears.”

“Mostly Chul’s tears,” you chime in, smirking.

“I stand by them,” Chul says dramatically. “'Amygdala' had me pacing the hallway like a divorced man in a drama.”

Yoongi chuckles, soft and genuine. “Happy to hear D-Day landed.”

“And by ‘landed,’ he means it sucker-punched us in the gut and left us on the floor,” you mutter.

“Good,” Yoongi says, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. “That’s the goal.”

For a second, his eyes flick to yours. And something lingers there—quiet, unspoken, and just slightly bruised.

You don’t look away. Not yet.

“We actually went to the concert too,” Aecha says, casually lifting her wine glass.

Jungkook gasps, clutching his chest like she just betrayed him. “You didn’t tell me about this? You attended my hyung’s concert without me?”

“You didn’t even know me back then, Kook,” Aecha laughs, nudging his shoulder. “It was, like, peak fangirl era.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were there?” he asks, looking at all three of you—but his gaze lands and lingers on you.

Your stomach flips. “Yeah, we were,” you say, carefully meeting his eyes. “It was… incredible.”

His expression softens, just a little. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

“We cried,” Chul announces dramatically, raising a hand. “Like, real tears. Especially her.” He jerks his thumb toward you.

You shoot him a look. “Chul, please.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, grinning. “Some of us may or may not have said ‘he’s a genius’ in the middle of the second chorus.”

Yoongi’s lips twitch, that almost-smile threatening to show itself again. “Good to know I had such a poetic impact.”

You smile faintly, and something about the way he looks at you—like he's trying to read a secret you never meant to share—makes your throat tighten just a little.

Yoongi takes a slow sip of his drink, eyes still on you, like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or let the silence speak instead. He goes with the second option—until Taehyung interrupts.

“So, Y/N,” Taehyung leans in, smirking, “did you fall in love with him before or after People Pt.2?”

You snort. “Definitely after. Before that, he was still hiding behind metaphors.”

Yoongi’s mouth quirks. “You think I hide behind metaphors?”

You glance at him, heartbeat hitching just slightly. “You live behind metaphors.”

A beat of silence passes. His eyes don’t leave yours. “And yet you still showed up.”

You want to roll your eyes, but it’s too sincere to dismiss. “Yeah, well… good lyrics deserve to be heard. Doesn’t mean I know the man behind them.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Maybe you did.”

taglist: @park-littlecrane @gyozajoon @knjs95s @jajabro @peacenpigeons @supertopsecretleebit @glossyfanfic @mar-lo-pap @kittyyyminnn @jennierubyjem @ot72025 @yohoosoju @diame93 @ryryvna @taekritimin123 @baechugff @enfppuff @amarawayne @134340-kr @mikrokookiex @futuristicenemychaos @shesscorpio7 @kam9404 @teaaaaaan @blubird592 @rpwprpwprpwprw @ktownshizzle @tea4sykes @jennierubyjem @butterfly-lover @jellihueni @xtracy-xd7 @annyeongbitch7 @rkivved-girl @mygtangerine @busanbby-jk @jennierubyjem @kiki-zb @marissariveraaaa

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havesomeimagination · 18 days ago

Text

Losing your best friend

Summary: After losing your pet, you do not know what to do with yourself. Especially after a hard shift in the ER. Good thing you have two best friends to help guide you.

Author's Note: Hey lovely people... this is my second writing ever and I wrote it in a rush so please be nice. This does go over pet loss and is spoken from experience. Losing a pet is the worst pain I have felt and still mourning to this day. I decided to write this bc I'm obsessed with The Pitt and has been consuming my every thought :).

YN does have a last name and she/her pronouns but feel free to imagine anything else!

Please let me know if you want more (probably not)

WARNING: Not edited, written in one go :)

WC: 2,050

TW: pet loss, pet sickness, child loss, um I think that is it lmk if there is more!

You are having the worst week of your life, well it was only Monday, but it shadows the rest of your week or month, even year.

You had finally gotten that day off you desperately needed for rest and comfort. Getting a full night sleep with your lovely dog by your side.

You had known for years that your dog had a heart murmur and it would only get more aggressive as time passed. But there was a part of you that could not believe that she would pass, she is immortal. No doubt about it. You gave her the correct doses of her meds and made sure to have your neighbors care for her while you were at work. She was normal.

Until one day when you were going through your normal routine with her on your day off, she fainted on her walk. The route y'all took every morning and sometimes night, depending on the shift. Her time was up.

By the time you had run back to your apartment she was awake and breathing heavily, not normal for a dog.

You rushed as fast as you could to get her to the vet.

They gave her the usual meds but through her arm to see how much effect it would have, if there wasn’t any improvement, it was her time.

Being a doctor, you are supposed to be prepared and calm during emergency situations but this was too personal. It felt too real. It felt like your worst nightmare.

How could the one thing that kept you from going down the spiral of flashbacks from your worst cases be dying.

On the way home you came to the realization that it was time to say goodbye.

And that is what you did.

You did not want her to be uncomfortable being put down at the vet so you arranged for them to do it in your apartment.

It was the worst 3 hours of your life.

Your soulmate. Your best friend. The reason you got up the majority of the time was gone.

There is an article that explained why losing a pet hurt so much. Said something about them releasing a certain chemical that couldn’t be done by another human. Their loss would hurt more than ever.

It is true.

No pain has ever felt like this. Like your soul was deeply affected. Like your heart would never beat the same melody again.

Your apartment felt empty. What once felt like a home felt like a nightmare.

______________________________________________________________________________

By the next morning you were sluggish and tired with burning eyes from all the crying. You felt numb.

Nobody knew about what happened and you didn’t want to tell. Not until you had time to process them. So you decided a distraction is all you need, the lovely ER life is everything you need right now.

Right?

______________________________________________________________________________

Working in the Pitt for a couple years, both night and day shift has led to a close relationship with both Robby and Abbott.

You knew their tells of when it's been a rough night and their hiding place up on the roof.

There had been multiple occasions where you’d help talk them down to go home and rest, and hopefully go to therapy.

Robby and Abbott would never say it to your face but you were the glue that held them together.

The teasing jokes and banter between the 3 of you always made shifts move along easier especially when you were their light.

When you got to the hospital you spotted both of them already making their rounds.

“Did not even wait for me, how rude” You say walking to them.

“Well somebody has to work around here Dr. Sinclair” Robby playfully shot back.

“It looks like you guys have it covered, I'm going to head out. Ciao.” Abbott says walking away from you and winking.

You turn back to Robby, “Shall we?”

He gestures to walk along with him. Your shift has started.

Towards the end of your shift, you were reminded why this job can also be a curse and a blessing.

Having a little girl pass on your table, under your care, because she tried to save her little sister from drowning in their family pool. By the time the parents found her, it was a little too late.

You tried everything.

Robby had to come in and snap you out of the trance that you were in to try and save her. It wasn’t enough.

After you called time of death, the parents’ cries immediately followed. Cries that would haunt you for the rest of your life because you weren’t enough.

If only there was a net over the pool. If only the parents got to her sooner. If only you could have saved her.

You froze in the room as Robby was trying to give the parents time to process what happened.

The impending doom loomed over you. Of the morning you had. Of every patient you have lost.

The morning you had.

She's gone.

They're gone.

You could not save them.

The room felt it was closing in on you. The smell was too much, your thoughts were too loud, your heart was too fast, the light was too bright, you needed to leave.

Finally making your way out of the room you rushed to the stairs, leaving Robby with the family.

Robby immediately noticed how much this was affecting you, it was affecting him too, anybody would freeze over this. Nobody is ready to lose a child.

Robby has seen your breakdowns and they were never good, but he was there for you or tried to be. He knew where you were headed so he tried his best to go after you.

By the time he was finished speaking with the family, you were up on the roof with your back against the railing and knees tucked up to your chest.

All he could hear when he opened the door to the roof was rough breathing and sniffles.

It was the worst sounds he's heard in a while. You almost never let yourself cry or break at work.

As he crosses the railing to sit down you start pleading for him to leave.

You hated crying in front of people. It made you feel weak.

“Please Robby just let me be. Go.” You roughly breathe out as you hide your face between your knees.

Robby tried to console you the best he could but nothing was working. You can only imagine his big brown eyes softening at the image of you fully breaking.

“I’m not going anywhere until you get behind the railing.” He states softly.

“Fucking hell why can’t you listen.” You harshly bite back still breathing roughly with tears continuously flowing.

As Robby tried to calm you down, Abbott arrived for his shift downstairs. Immediately searching for his two friends.

“Where are the two rascals?” He asked Dana.

“Oh thank god you’re here. Sinclair lost a patient and rushed to the stairs, its been a while and still no sign of them. Go check on them.”

Immediately Abbott rushed to the roof.

Opening the door to the roof revealed the worst sound he ever heard come from you.

The rough gasps of air, pleading with Robby to go away, it was a lot to take in.

Dropping his bag by the door he rushed to where both of you were seated.

Robby just gave him a look. The look that would confirm what they have expected for a while.

Since you were never one to show extensive emotions after the hard shifts it was only matter of time before a break would happen.

But they were not expecting it to be this bad.

“Sinclair I’m going to need you to calm down, you're worrying me.” Robby pleaded.

Abbot sits in front of you and pries your hands from hiding your head to try to get you to breathe normally.

You keep repeating for them to go away.

Both men grasp each of your hands and tell you to breathe.

“Inhale, 1, 2, 3, exhale 1, 2, 3” Abbott consoled.

“Cmon love, you got this, breathe before you pass out. It’s ok, we got you” Robby worriedly glances at Abbott.

Jack only has his eyes on you. He’s never seen you like this.

You start to listen to their instructions trying to regulate your breathing.

Inhale 1, 2 ,3, exhale 1, 2, 3.

Finally after a few repetitions you start to breathe normally.

You feel both of them start to relax as you listen.

It takes a while for you to snap out of your trance.

You kept repeating this morning in your mind.

Your dog's ears, her soft silver fur, the way she never let you miss her paw massages or ear scratches in the morning. How she would lay on top of you when you had a bad day and consumed any bad feeling you had. She was your light.

Suddenly you just start crying again but this time you lean towards Abbott, yearning for some kind of comfort.

“Hey hey what’s going on? Is it the shift or something else?” Jack worriedly says as he wraps his arms around you.

Robby and Jack are both looking at each other waiting for you to speak.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You softly speak into the night.

A silence covers all three of them.

“What do you mean YN” Robby replies as you back up from Abbott and stare at the buildings in front of you.

Glancing at both of their worried glances you reply, “This job. Life. I don’t know. Everything is too much.”

A couple seconds pass before Jack was about to speak but got interrupted.

“ I mean the only thing that made me get out of bed every morning is gone. She is gone. It was pathetic to think dogs are immortal and nothing would happen especially knowing her condition. But she is gone and I don’t want to live without her.” you rapidly ramble as more tears start flowing.

Both Robby and Jack stare at her with sad eyes, finally understanding the full reason why you are like this.

Both of them scoot right next to you until they’re touching your shoulders and comfort you.

You continue rambling “I don’t think I can stay home alone without her. She is everywhere in that apartment. Every corner, blanket, window, and pillow, I- I can't.”

Jack takes your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles trying to think about what to say next.

“Well it’s a good thing you have two stupidly handsome doctors with their own living space as your best friend.” Jack playfully states.

He spots the tiniest hint of your lips turning up before you glance at him.

Robby then speaks, “You are the strongest doctor out of any of us Sinclair. You will get through this. This ER would not be the same without you”, looking directly at you.

“Thank you Rob. I just think I need a few days to recuperate.”

“Take all the time you need, I have interns, nurses, and attendings at my disposal” Robby jokes.

He then gets up and places a warm hand on your shoulder before announcing his exit.

“Well I have to go check downstairs before Dana quits. Please reach out to me for whatever reason Sinclair. I mean it.” He sternly tells you.

You nod as he walks away.

As he walks away he shouts “ You too Abbott!”

Your hand is still covered by Jacks.

A few seconds of silence and sniffling pass before you confess “I don’t want to go home”.

Abbott nudges your shoulder to look at him.

“You don’t have to. I can give you my key right now and let you stay at my house as long as you want, free of charge.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?” You question him.

“I would do anything for you Sinclair.” He softly answers.

You stare at him, “ Right back at ya Cowboy.”

You break eye contact looking at the stars until you let your head fall on his shoulder.

Both of you stayed like that until Jack had to leave for his shift. One heart bruised but beating for the other.

#dr jack abbot x reader #the pitt angst #the pitt fanfiction #dr robby #robby robinavitch #dr robby x reader #jack abbot #dr abbott #the pitt #platonic #lovers..#please be kind

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sometimeslwish · 13 days ago

Text

'Bout It

I wrote this how it came (which was messy and jumpy) cause this particular brand of snowcrow x reader has been on my head for a while and I needed to get it out. 7293 words in three days is fucking crazy y'all, I might've been possessed.

Honorable mention to this post from @hyperfixationhobo it inspired one of the scenes. Say thank you to @blessdunrest, she's the one that found the link for me.

Word count: 3401 words

Tags: Zayne x non-mc reader x Sylus, gn!reader, there's no mc here, pronouns used to address the reader are they/them, college au, barely any angst in here, no beta reader we die like Grandma Josephine, flirty Sylus, pet names, alcohol mention, cursing, a brief scene where reader is drunk (nothing happens), sleeping in the same bed, reader has a shitty ex (sorry guys), name calling (slut), brief moment of violence (ex got sucker punched)

Part 1

Say you're in college– I know, I know, it's horrible. You're struggling, drowning in papers and projects and assignments.

It's been the most stressful fucking week of your life– not really, you've had a lot of stressful weeks, and there's more to come, but you know you'll get through this one just like you got through the others; with sheer will and determination– so, it's no wonder that you bump (more like slam) into them while on your way to class.

"Shit– I'm so sorry!" You say, instantly bending down to help with his things.

"It's alright," you barely hear him as you scramble to grab the discarded papers and carefully put them together.

"You'll have to go through the trouble of organizing these again, I'm sorry." You apologize again when both of you stand up, handing back his things.

The way you still your movements when you finally look at him is borderline cartoonic; breath held back, jaw fallen open. You're stunned in place, completely leaving behind your embarrassment and your hurry to get to a class you're late to.

Hazel eyes stare back at you from behind glass lenses, and noticing the squared rim makes you pay attention to the rest of his face. The man is gorgeous, beautiful, handsome, pretty, all of them at once and more. It takes the breath from your lungs.

"Holy shit, you're fucking beautiful." The words leave your mouth before you can even process the thought, and you feel your face light up in flames. You hear someone snicker beside him and you turn your head to find another handsome man watching. His features are just as sticking, red eyes and white hair; both of them look like statues that came to life.

"Two handsome best friends? Is today my lucky day?" You look at the time and mutter out another curse before looking at both of them. "I gotta dip, I'm late to class," you start walking away, "Sorry for that again, see you around pretty boy." You wave goodbye looking back one last time before running away. You smile when you catch a glimpse of his reddening ears, feeling a bit giddy as you make your way to class. You're not even sure you'll get to see them again; they could be visiting, for all that you know, but this was nice.

. . . . .

You meet him again at the library.

The way you perk up is instant, smiling and raising a hand to wave at him before going back to your studies. Ruby eyes isn't with him this time, you note, but you make no move to start a conversation over that.

. . . . .

You catch glimpses of them here and there, and when you finally point them out to a friend, you learn that where one goes, the other follows.

"You slammed into Zayne?!!" Tanya whisper-shouts, bringing you closer as if you were in the most dire of situations.

"How do you know his name?" You whisper-shout back.

"Dude, they're, like, the fucking best students here."

"And? You know I don't pay enough attention to those things, I got too much shit in my head."

Tanya huffs, "Their names are Zayne and Sylus," she pulls you along, linking your arms together, "no one knows what Sylus majors in, but Zayne's majoring in cardiology.”

"Ah, ‘pretty doctor’ then." She side eyes you.

"I should've known when you said 'ruby eyes' there's no one else here with that eye color." She mutters before carrying along.

. . . . .

"Fucking hell, what are you made of? Bricks?!"

You ask as you rub your forehead, looking up to find– what was his name again? It started with a T, or was it an S? You know it ended in 'lus' because it reminded you of the words 'luz' and 'lux' both which mean 'light' in their respective languages– Ruby eyes, you've slammed into ruby eyes this time. This impact is a lot more disorienting than last time, though, so much that he had reached out to stabilize you before you fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" The pretty doctor asks– fuckity fucking fuck, you had forgotten how his voice sounded, all nice and deep, even while tinged with worry– and you nod several times.

"Running late again?" You hear ruby eyes’ voice for the first time– okay, what the fuck? They're not just two handsome best friends, but also two handsome, deep voiced best friends?– the amusement is clear in the rumble of it.

You sigh wistfully, "Yeah." you whisper out a "Thanks" when he lets you go and take a step back, "and sorry. We have to stop meeting like this, I'll probably get a concussion or something. Anyways, see ya guys." You run away again, waving goodbye without looking back.

Sylus is the only one to wave goodbye, but he's not the only one to stare at your retreating form.

They share a look after you're completely out of sight. A very charged look.

. . . . .

You end up sharing one of your classes with him, and it's just your luck that the only empty seat is right next to yours.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon, ruby eyes." You smile as he approaches.

"Little track star, what a surprise; you're not running late to class." He sits beside you with a flourish, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Haha, very funny, brick man." you poke at his arm, a faux frown on your face, "I'll have you know, it's only that one. Try having a class on the other side of campus in the middle of the day and not run late when you're making your way back.”

He chuckles in amusement and you don't get to talk any longer because the professor walks in and class starts. You feel him stare at you through it. You tried shrugging it off as your imagination at the beginning, but then you turned and caught him. All he did was smirk at you before you tilted your head towards the professor, signaling him to pay attention instead of staring at you.

He listened a little bit, but his eyes kept finding their way to you as the minutes passed. Until he decided that he didn't care any longer and stared unashamedly. The professor did the usual "I know you're not paying attention, so I'm going to ask you a question to make you pay attention" tactic on Sylus, only him to answer it perfectly without even looking away from you.

. . . . .

"Pretty doctor!" You whisper-shout while waving at him and then wave faster when you see Sylus behind him, "and Lux! Hey guys!"

"How long do you plan on calling me that?" Wayne questions as he takes the seat in front of you.

"Forever, duh. Or until you stop blushing, at the very least." You grin as you point out his red ears.

. . . . .

You already knew Zayne and Sylus had a peculiar friendship.

A "bad boy" and the most disciplined college genius together. But you understood why they worked so well the more you spent time with them.

It was balanced, in a way, Sylus called for chaos where Zayne wanted order and vice versa. They allowed each other freedom while remembering not to get too lost in the comfort.

Their banter was unmatched, it never failed to have you clutching at your stomach with tears in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. The sass, the sarcasm, the wit, it was beautiful.

Their humor? Gods, it was horrible, in a good way, of course. Dry jokes, dad jokes and dark humor all around.

"I hate that, I hate that it made me laugh." But not really.

Not when Zayne would smile in that soft, barely noticeable way that made you want to scream.

Not when Sylus's sharp features would soften when he smiled.

. . . . .

“How do you do it?”

“Hmm?” You turn towards Tanya, lifting your head from your notebook.

You're having a study date in your shared dorm room, just the two of you and some soft music without lyrics in it. Or at least, lyrics you could understand, you swore you heard some arabic at some point of the playlist.

“Study?” You look at her notes– flash cards with beautiful calligraphy in different colors and fonts. You don't know how she does it, but you know that it's helped you study along with her, so you don't even say meep about it.

“No, hang out with them.”

“I don't get what you mean.”

“Like, they're geniuses and… intimidating.”

You huff out a laugh, “They're still human, you know? They have good and bad days just like us, they eat and need rest like any other person. Besides, you're a genius too, and we're hanging out, aren't we?”

She scrunches her nose, but says nothing else. You feel like there's something that was left unanswered.

. . . . .

“Really guys? Right in front of my salad?” You grab a spoonful of your ice cream before shoving it into your mouth.

They're flirting in front of you, full on flirting, and no one can convince you otherwise.

Zayne and Sylus are sitting side by side. Zayne with his perfect posture and Sylus with an arm over the backrest, encroaching on Zayne's personal space with a smug smile while Zayne looks amused and exasperated at the same time. Any closer and they could make out right then and there. Not that you'd complain, you're all for them becoming a thing; they'd make a great couple.

They already act like they've been married for 25 years anyways.

Sylus chuckles and leans closer toward you, “Oh there's no need to be jealous, sweetie, there's plenty of me to go around.”

You blink. Once, twice, thrice, a fourth and fifth time. That's the most forward he's ever been with you, it has left you stunned. You gasp with more drama than necessary before swatting at his arm.

“Oh my god, Sylus, you greedy whore.” He chuckles and you look to Zayne to see his reaction. He's already staring at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

. . . . .

"Oh hey! Look, they're here!" Tanya's voice sounds a little muddled.

You're drunk, drunker than you've ever been, and you're not really paying attention to what she's saying, more focused on hugging her and rubbing your cheek to her shoulder like a clingy cat.

"Hi, sorry, they wouldn't stop asking about you guys, so I just–"

"It's alright, we can take it from here."

You gasp when you hear his voice, "Zayne-bug!" You let go of Tanya to hug him and later pull Sylus into the hug when you notice him too.

“Sylly.” you sing-song while clinging to both of them. Sylus chuckles and Zayne does his best to continue the conversation with Tanya while trying to get you to cling to Sylus instead.

He's close to succeeding when you pull him to kiss his cheek, followed by Sylus’s. You grin up at them, just pure affection and adoration in your eyes. If the kiss wasn't shocking enough, your next words are:

“I love you guys so much.”

They're a bit slurred, but it's enough for them to exchange a look over your head. You keep rambling– about them, their beauty, how great they are, how much you love them– but it gets more mumbled and jumbled as you get more and more into it.

Tanya tries not to laugh, pressing her lips into a line. You're probably going to regret it horribly the next day, but it'll be alright.

. . . . .

You wake up between them.

It's a little awkward. Zayne's bed isn't big enough for the three of you, so all of you are lying on your sides.

Sylus's arm is heavy over your waist and his chest is warm against your back. Zayne is in front of you, a hand held between yours with fingers linked.

You look over to find Zayne already awake and staring at you. His smile is soft, as soft as his “Good morning.” whisper.

You groan and hide your face amidst the mess of fingers created by your hands, curling more into yourself.

“Why is it so bright?”

He huffs out a soft laugh, and shifts to get up and out of bed. You grip his hand tighter when he moves to pull it away.

“You'll have to let go of my hand if you want me to make it less bright.”

“Don't want to. Stay.” You mumble. And so he does.

He stays until Sylus wakes up and you can no longer ignore it.

. . . . .

You catch sight of a familiar face and your blood runs cold.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck,” you grab a hold of Sylus and instantly use him to shield yourself, holding him in place as you avoid been seen by your ex.

Zayne sighs, giving you a chiding look– you can practically hear his tired “language”– that brings out the brat in you. You stick out your tongue towards him before peeking over Sylus's shoulder.

“Sweetheart?” He's still not allowed to move, you're still gripping his arm, so he can't continue eating. Now, he could switch hands, but your constant glances over his shoulder are concerning.

“My ex is here.” You whisper-shout and that gets Zayne to stop eating.

“Oh? Should I assume they weren't the best by the way you're using me to hide?”

You wince, “Not really? He wasn't that bad, maybe a little… high maintenance.” Sylus raises an eyebrow at your choice of words and you sigh. You let go of his arm to take a bite of your food.

“Fine, he was annoying; wanted my attention on him at all times but barely gave me any. It was always ‘me, me, me’, he even had the fucking audacity to throw fits when I decided to entertain myself when he ignored me or spend time with my friends when he cancelled our plans.” You don't even know how you put up with the treatment at the time. It was exhausting how he kept demanding your life revolved around his while he did whatever the fuck he wanted without a care for you.

You didn't consider it a big deal at the time, life gets busy when you go from being in highschool to being in college, you understood that perfectly. But, in truth, you didn't know the difference between “busy at this college away from yours” and “ignoring you because I'm not bored yet.”

“He broke up with me because, and I quote: ‘I’ve found someone better, someone who can give me the attention that I want’,” you huff and angrily eat your food as you look for something to take out the frustration on, “and then had the nerve to come crawling back, begging me to take him back a few months after.”

“I had to change my phone number, cut contact with who I thought were my friends and delete my social media because he kept bringing everyone else that would listen into it.”

They share a glance while you sigh and chuck the empty container into the trash, “It’s been a few years, and he still keeps looking for me. I’ve given up on a few apps and limited myself to the more… niche ones– if you could call them that– because he just won't fucking stop.” They follow as you start walking away from where you saw your ex, but the retreat doesn't give you peace because you hear your ex's voice call out your name.

“Oh, fuck no,” you link your arms with them and continue walking, pretending you can't hear the voice calling out that godforsaken nickname you now hate. You don't get to make it very far because he catches up and gets in the way.

“Hey, it's been a while.” He smiles, and god does it grate your gears to see him act so comfortably with you. You want to wipe that fucking smile off.

“It should've been ‘never again.’” You scowl and let go of their arms, “What do you want?”

Zayne and Sylus stare with poorly held back curiosity, it's the first time they've heard you sound like this. You're usually so warm, kind and soft, but this? This side of you is cold, sharp and mean. Like the man in front of you is the lowest of scums that could ever exist and giving them your attention and time is a privilege– nay, a luxury they don't deserve. It’s kind of hot to see you like that.

“Please, baby–” hearing that pet name come from his mouth makes your left eye twitch– “I just want to talk.” He looks at your companions and adds “In private, please, just a few seconds.”

You pretend to think it over for a second, “No, either say it with them here or go fuck yourself.”

“Please, you're making a scene.” He looks around and you scoff as you cross your arms, a sarcastic laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn't be making it if you hadn't approached me, now both of us gotta be uncomfortable over your denial to fucking let me go.”

“If you just listened to me–” He starts and the tone of voice raises your hackles even more.

“What do I have to listen to, huh?” You take a step forward, “To your incessant, pathetic begging?–” you clear your throat and make a face as you imitate his voice in the most mocking manner you can muster– “‘Please take me back, I love you, I need you, I can't live without you. Please, give me a chance, I changed, I promise I’m better now, just let me show you.’ You ain't changed shit!”

“Yes, I have!”

“No, you haven't!” You jab his chest, “We wouldn't be having this fucking conversation in the first place if you did! If you did change, you would’ve let me go ages ago. But no, you're here, ruining my fucking date!”

Now that is a lie, and you can already hear the twin “date?” from Sylus and Zayne, they're probably even looking at you funny right now.

Your ex scoffs, and it fires you up even further “As if, they're way out of your league, there's no way you could pull either of them. Ohh, maybe you fucked both of them, that's the only way you could've pulled it off; you've always been such a slut anyways.”

You don't get to punch him; Zayne beats you to it. Calm, amicable, “let's solve the issue with dialogue” Zayne, sucker punches your ex.

You stare in shock.

What the fuck?

Did you just hallucinate that?

No, you couldn't have; your ex is currently on the ground, unmoving.

“Ah, whoops, I didn't mean to do that.”

Whoops?!

Didn't mean to do it?!!

“What?!”

“I didn't mean to knock him out,” He clarifies, already kneeling to check on him, personal feelings and opinions about the jackass be damned as he switches to med-student-on-his-way-to-be-a-doctor mode, “although, I suppose that is better than having to continue listening to his voice.” Zayne says with a bit of a grimace.

He's conflicted, not over punching someone, but over the fact that he unintentionally knocked him out and got rid of two birds with one stone.

Sylus starts chuckling behind you, poorly held back laughter that he can't keep at bay, try as he might. You can't help but giggle along the moment you make eye contact with him, and your giggles become his downfall because he belly laughs. It's not long before you start cackling like a witch as the hysterics take over you.

Zayne stares for a while, completely unimpressed, fighting back his own smile. But then you can't hold yourself up, and you end up bringing Sylus down with you when you try to cling to him for help, and he starts laughing too.

You'll never forget the sight of his shoulders shaking as he laughed quietly, nor his face when he couldn't restrain his smile anymore.

Security arrives right as all of you are calming down. They take statements, check up on your ex– who fucking tries to twist the story to his favour only for it to fall flat when other people side with you– and then escort him out before leaving you to enjoy the rest of the day.

None of you mention it, but you all silently agree that it was the best date-not-date ever.

Part 2.

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ishiniku · 24 days ago

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Well dang, chapter 126 is... something, who could have guessed. sighs

But I decided as my first post here to just give some opinion on this chapter, wanting to point some things I really got interested.

CHAPTER 126 SPOILERS + some thoughts on it as bonus

Well, thanks for the help unknown-cat, btw what do you mean "And I know what that feels like?" —It sounded so..."I've been through something similar, so I understand how she feels"...— I think we still have a lot to discover about what happened in this timeline.

And wow, we found out how Sandclock works and it rules:

You can't just say you're back from the future, and I believe you probably can't say anything related to the Sandclock, or perhaps nothing from the future too. Damn this thing is pulling the wool over your eyes Yashiro.

You can come back as many time as you wish, but when you come back you only have one chance to change it, because you won't be able to come back again at that moment. You have a short time to change what you want, that is, until the last sand falls.

Btw, hourglass is such a... Grrrrrr please Aidairo give me a human materialized form of the it to me so I can draw it getting beat up. Nothing good comes out with using it, the hourglass always makes you WANT to change the past, and when you think you got what you wanted, something terrible happens.

Well it's like it says Nene,

"Again and again.''

Baby Tsukasa jumpscare for y'all... gurl got possessed, i did know the moment he popped in my screen that Yashiro was doomed.

THIS IS SO SAD MAN. One of their mothers called in their phone...Who would be? I hope it's Kou's mother hah... And it could this be important? I don't know, I think it's more to emphasize that they are human, they have family, they have their own life, they have people caring about them...How nice...They died btw!! 😋

Imagine your best friend dedicating her last moments trying to help you get out of your trance and giving you a warm, caring, tight hug as a goodbye? Wow Aoinene angst is so tasty!! Aida&iro why you two so good at creating doomed narratives?????

Nene smile at least now your body count is 5!! Please get the joke. (Not that I think you killed 5 people this easily with this little knife, not that I doubt the capabilities of possession, but like... Two normal people, one clockeepers and two exorcists? hardcore, I know octopusamane helped you.)

..Entity... Good job at being disgusting, this is something this thing doesn't fail at all. (btw where is the trigger warning in this chapter Aida...)/srs

She came back to 103rd anniversary of Kamome Gakuen? She said she panicked, I believe this has led her to a completely random time, or maybe there is something important on this date...

YEAH HELP HER DAMN IT, ITS YOUR FAULT. It's shocking the world, it's heartbreaking, Akane is still alive.

sorry, I promise I love him, I just have a slight hate-love relationship w/ all the characters of TBHK, frantic coughing

Now why is Akane here? He is clearly very calm in the situation, "I finally found you" He knew this would happen, I imagine the other Akanes who died are from the their own timelines, but this one... Where is him from? "Our" timeline (can we pretty please call Hanako timeline as "Our") or the original timeline?! Don't know HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. But he was clearly saw the changes Yashiro tried to do, since he was looking for her, but probably when he was finally close to finding her, she used the hourglass.

This chapter and the next ones to follow literally will give a BIG change/grow in Nene character and probably her relationships too, think about how traumatizing this experience was guys...I'm literally not complaining, just sad.

Plus, they are giving a lot of weight to the entity of the redhouse, the root of the problem; Of course, Tsukasa w/ entity was somehow violent, but this?!?? Guys?... This just proves the fact that Tsukasa somehow stabilized him by idk merging his soul with the monster??? How? Why? How many control does Tsukasa or the Entity has, its 50% or perhaps Tsukasa has more control? We still have many things to be answered. (Honestly I like the theory that Tsukasa merged with the Pit God by eating it, I just don't know how to explain how this would work.)

One of the bloodiest chapters so far,I wonder if ever we're getting some chapter w/ more gore than this. And honestly Aida&Iro exceeded my expectations. 1000000000000/10. my reaction to the chapter is this image below.

#tbhk manga #tbhk #jshk #yashiro nene #akane aoi #aoi akane #tbhk 126 #tbhk spoilers #this chapter destroyed me #at least Yashiro Nene is alive!#i still need to yap tomorrow about some theories after this post.#first post

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whispering-ways · 1 year ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 1 ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.

♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)

♡ notes: hi besties! I'm back finally with another fanfic after months. I'm so sorry for my hiatus, but I've been super busy with college. I'm graduating in literally in 5 days which is so exciting (neurosci and psychology BS) and also been working on a patent and been doing patient trials in the neurosci lab I volunteer at and been applying for grad programs, so its been a lot. but I'm back with a new (long) Katsuki fic now that things have finally settled! Really this was a story with my OCs, Drew and Kressie (names still yet to be confirmed but that's what I've got for now) but I thought this would still work with Bakugo. Let me know if y'all want me to post the OC version too :) hope you guys like it!

As you sit in the principal’s office with your parents, you start to drown out the principal’s monotonous voice. All you cared about in the moment was how you would fit in. Middle school had been terrible; a journey chocked full of bullies and spending lunches alone. So when your parents told you that the 3 of you were moving to a new state for your dad’s fancy new job, you thought this was your chance to wipe the slate clean. Start afresh and make some friends this time around. You’d been excited for weeks, but now sitting here about to start your first day, you felt your stomach churn with anxiety.

The principal calling your name brought you back to reality. “So Y/N are you ready to start your first day? I know it’ll be halfway through your periods, but still your first day if you think about it!”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, picking up your backpack.

“I’ll take you to your new classroom,” said the principal, standing up and opening the door for you, gesturing you to follow him. After saying goodbye to your parents, you head outside the office with a big sigh, readying yourself. It felt like forever before you reached your classroom. Your principal knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. You heard him say something to the teacher inside, but couldn’t quite make out what. She came out a couple moments afterward and the principal left you in her hands. A short introduction later, she brought you inside to the front of the class.

“Hey everyone, I’m sorry to interrupt you all in the middle of quiet work time, but we’ve got a new student. This is (Y/N) and she’ll be in our class from now on,” she said with a big smile on her face; it was almost too cheery. “I’m hoping since you only came in a week late, it won’t be too hard to catch up with the class.” She scanned around the classroom before continuing, “Looks like we’ll have to place you in the back with Katsuki. We share one big desk between students, so I hope that’s okay with you.” You nod and the teacher turns towards her desk, reaching down to grab a packet. “Here’s what we’re working on right now; answer as best as you can and don’t worry about getting questions wrong. You’ll be sitting right over there,” pointing to the back.

You look toward where she gestured to find a guy in a black hoodie, his eyes covered by his hood and lip curled in disdain. “Fantastic,” you thought, taking the packet from your teacher’s hand. “It’d be my luck to be put right next to someone that looks like they’d kill.” You plop down in your seat and look towards your new deskmate, smiling at him as an olive branch. Maybe he was super nice and just didn’t know how to show it.

He looked at you up and down, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as if he was wondering why you’d even dare to look over. With a sigh, you turn back around and start to work on your packet. You wouldn’t consider yourself super smart, but definitely above average. But ‘above average’ wasn’t going to cut it for this packet. You chose to take Calculus to challenge you and to look better on college applications, but looking at the work in front of you, you regretted your decision. This stuff was just way too complicated, but you were determined to figure it out.

You look over at Katsuki to see whether he’s struggling too for some sort of comfort. To your disappointment, you see him flying through the work, his head practically buried in the packet. You tried again to work through the first problem. “Find the derivative of the following function...what even is a derivative?” you thought to yourself. You pulled out your phone, hoping to try and find some sort of video to explain what was going on when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around to find your teacher smiling at you once again. “Hey (Y/N), I hope the packet is going good, but in this classroom we don’t use phones to search up answers. If you’re having trouble, why don’t you ask your deskmate to help you out? I’m sure Katsuki would love to help you out!”

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, giving your teacher a tight-lipped smile in return. “Out of all people, why did I get paired with him,” you pleaded internally. After a few moments, you give up and decide to ask Katsuki for help. “Hey, uh... would you mind helping me out with this question please?” No response. You cleared your throat, hoping to draw attention to your request. Nothing, nada, zilch. It’s then that you noticed he had some earbuds in. “Maybe he really just couldn’t hear me,” you thought. A few moments of contemplation later lead you to tapping his shoulder, hoping to finally get his attention.

He whipped his head around, giving you the chance to get a good look at his face. The first thing you noticed were his eyes. His eyes were red, probably because of contacts, and were coupled with dark circles; it looked like he hadn’t had sleep in weeks. You were finally able to see his hair peeking out from under his hood which had been messily bleached blonde with brown roots growing out. His lips were still in a snarl. “What do you want?” he asked, spitting out each word with anger. “Don’t you know when people are trying to ignore you?”

A hit and a miss. There was no doubting it now; he definitely hated you. You hadn’t even been in the classroom for 20 minutes and your high school dreams of making friends were already coming crashing down. You were just about to reply when he snapped back at you “What? Just going to stare at me forever or something?”

See, you were nice, but not nice enough to let that sort of behavior go by without saying anything. “What the fuck is your problem dude? I just wanted to ask you about derivatives. Damn, a bitch can’t even be curious about math anymore,” you retorted. You were hoping to put him in his place a little, but instead, you heard him chuckle.

“Ok fine, I’ll help you out. I’ll admit, that was a little funny. But this doesn’t mean we’re all buddy buddy, okay? I just want you off my back.”

“Sure whatever gets me done with this packet,” you said, flipping through the pages of the problems till you found the one you were looking for. You pointed to the derivative question and said “Just explain this one to me and I’ll be out of your hair. I just don’t really know how to get started with it.”

With an annoyed sigh, Katsuki gets started on explaining it to you. “Okay so basically all you’ve got to do is just differentiate all 3 parts and then add it. Was that too hard for you to understand or something or did you finally get it?”

You didn’t want to say it, but you didn’t get it. What was differentiating? Subtracting? You had no clue. But you couldn’t admit that, not when he was acting so rude; you had way too much pride for that sort of confession. “Let’s say I didn’t get it. I totally did, but if I didn’t, would you be able to explain it more in depth?” you ask him, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on your lie.

Katsuki definitely picked it up. He wasn’t stupid. But he was dreading having to talk to you more. He wasn’t trying to make friends or talk to people and be all chit-chatty; all he wanted was to be left alone, but unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be picking up on that any time soon. He grabbed your sheet and put it right between you two. If you wanted a in-depth explanation, you were going to get one. Bit by bit, he explained every single step of the problem, dragging out each individual part unnecessarily. That’d teach you to bother him again.

What he did not expect was the beaming smile you gave him in return. “Thank you so much! That actually helped a ton dude! See I knew you could be nice,” you say as you bring the packet back to your side to continue working on the next couple of problems.

Your response threw him for a loop. Sure, Katsuki was confused over how he could seem nice, but what really had him was your smile. He could’ve sworn it was the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Slightly crooked, but still shined like the sun. He turned around, pulling his hood down to cover the slight blush that had appeared on his face. He hated the feeling he had his stomach now and it was all your fault. He knew it was a bad idea to help you.

He dove into his work, trying not to focus on you. It felt like decades before the bell rang and people started packing up to move to their last period. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw you whip out a folded piece of paper, which opened up to reveal your schedule. He heard you sigh as he was packing up and he already knew what was coming. As soon as he came back up from zipping his backpack, he was met with your eyes looking at him and he knew you were about to bother him again.

“Uh... so I’ve got my next period in room 2301, but I have no idea how to get there. I think its English Lit with Ms. Carlisle, but like we only have 10 minutes to get there and I don’t want to get lost. Do you mind just giving me some quick directions?” you ask.

He wanted to say no and tell you to get lost. But it seemed like his mouth betrayed him when he heard himself saying “Yeah ok, I”ll take you there.”

“Oh! I mean you don’t have to really take me to the room, but I appreciate it a lot!” you reply cheerily with another one of your smiles.

“Do her cheeks never hurt from all that smiling?” Katsuki thought to himself. “It’s whatever, I’m in the same class too so I don’t give a shit.” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over one shoulder.

He starts walking away and you take that as a sign to start walking or be left alone in the classroom. With a wave to your teacher, you speed up to catch up to him. It was a bit awkward walking beside him but not talking. You’d initiate some sort of conversation, but it looked like he was ready to bite your head off and you already felt like you were pushing it.

Thankfully, Katsuki ended the awkward silence between you two, “So.... like, where did you move from?”

“From Florida, but not like city Florida, think like retirement home type of Florida. North Florida specifically.” you rambled, trying to fill up the silence between you for a bit longer.

“Cool, so you’ve like seen gators and shit then?” he said, looking down towards you. It was then that he took notice of the height difference between the two of you. He wasn’t super tall by any means, but compared to you he felt like a giant.

“I mean I’ve seen a couple snakes, gators... and a few lizards too! Nothing too scary though!” you say with a smile. He nodded in response and a silence settled over you two again. You started to rack your brain for something to say to keep the conversation going, when you suddenly felt a yank on your backpack.

“Don’t just fucking walk off, we’re here, English Lit,” Katsuki says, pulling you back to the front of the door after you’d walked right past it.

“Oh! Thank you” you reply, holding the door open. “After you.”

Katsuki felt weird walking into class and it had nothing to do with the quiz the class had to do today. He walked over to his usual desk and felt you follow behind before sitting down right next to him. You put your bag down in your seat and walked over to the teacher, probably to go introduce yourself. It was obvious to Katsuki that he wasn’t getting rid of you or the weird feeling you gave him every time you smiled anytime soon.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sweetest laugh he had ever heard. He turned towards the source of the sound and he wasn’t surprised to see it came from you. It seemed like everything you did added to that weird feeling he felt in his stomach. He hated it. You sat back down next to him, syllabus in hand along with a couple of other forms for you to fill out.

Class seemed to drag on forever for Katsuki. It took everything in him to focus on what the teacher was saying rather than how your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and how you chewed your pencil from time to time and how you drew tiny little flowers and hearts on your notes whenever you got bored. The bell finally rang, releasing Katsuki from what seemed to be his own personal hell. He got up wordlessly to walk towards his car, ready to leave and go home. He made it a couple of paces outside of class before he felt a small tap on his arm.

He turned around to see you looking up at him with big eyes. “Hey.. uhh.. Could I maybe get your number? We have to finish that packet by tomorrow’s class and I know there’s a good chance I could be confused again, so I was hoping to maybe get your help again?” you ask.

How could he refuse those eyes? With a sigh, he held his phone out to you. You looked up at him quizzically. “Do I need to explain everything to you? Put your number in already. I’ll text you back so you can have mine” he snapped.

You took his phone and typed in your number, saving your contact while you were at it. “There you go, all saved and everything,” you say. You couldn’t even fully finish your sentence before Katsuki snatched his phone out of your hands.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Katsuki, but I’ve got to head to the buses soon. I think my bus is leaving in like literally 10 minutes. It was nice meeting you though and hope to see you tomorrow,” you say, running off to catch the bus before you were left without a ride.

“Nice to meet you too, I guess,” he whispered to himself. He hoped you didn’t hear it. He walked to his car, throwing his bag into the backseat and putting his head on the steering wheel. “What’s going on with me? Why is everything so weird all of a sudden?” he thought. He took his phone out from his hoodie, looking for your contact and, more importantly, to put a name to your face.

It wasn’t hard to find since it was the only contact that stuck out like a sore thumb. “Y/N..” he said, reading out your name. He noticed a small smiley face beside your name, a sweet detail that caused an unconscious smile to cross his lips. It didn’t take him long to notice and he immediately shook his head trying to drive his smile away. He put his head back on the wheel with a thud, letting out a frustrated groan. That weird and uneasy feeling in his stomach had come back again and he had a feeling it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 1 year ago

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hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.

Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:

Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.

First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.

Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.

Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.

You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*

Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--

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astoldbylanii · 1 year ago

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Ignorance

dealers!shuriri x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, reader has a kid

-------------- "Is everyone clear on instructions?" Your professor asked from the front of the classroom. There were whispers among the class but ultimately everyone answered yes. Prof. Diggs nodded, giving permission to start the project before he took a seat at his desk. He was your art teacher, as calm and chill as they come. He was one of your favorites considering he wasn't always jumping down his students throats.

As you finally started to get into the flow of your sketch, his phone rang. He picked it up, muttering a few words before he stood from his desk, clearing his throat.

"I have to run down to the front office real quick. Best behavior please, lord knows I don't need miss Mulligan asking about my teaching capabilities. Again." He said, throwing on his suits jacket and tightening his tie. "Until I come back, ask your neighbor for help and if they can't I'll answer your questions when I get back." He instructed, saluting goodbye before he left the room.

Immediately, the room was filled with chatter. You sighed, throwing down your pencil, your thought process now thrown off.

"What's wrong?" Your friend, Eden asked from beside you. She was already well along with her drawing. It looked like it was going to be of her late brother.

"This finna be hard as hell. You know I don't mess with that hyperrealism shit." You said, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pencil, twirling it around your fingers.

"Well, just draw someone but like, abstract. We're in the second semester, by now Diggs knows your style." She suggested, starting to blend her own piece at some points. You shook your head at her idea.

"Nah, he specifically said he wants it to look like he can touch the person. I don't know, I think I might just settle for a nice D at this point." You shrugged, staring at the circle on your page. You took the paper off, crumbling it in your hands and replaced it with a fresh one. After that you didn't pay any more attention to it, pulling out your own sketchbook instead.

"Shii, I could settle for some good D too." Eden joked, smacking your hand down when you playfully shoved her, laughing too. "I'm not kidding!" She said, glaring at you with an offended look when you continued laughing. She rolled her eyes, going back to her drawing as you went back to your sketch.

Some minutes passed by and you two sat there in silence, surrounded by chatter. You were looking for inspiration in your old works while she was focusing on her new one. You were confused when out the corner of your eye you saw her put down her pencil too. Thinking she might've been done already, you looked over to see it unfinished. But maybe that was the look she was going for. You went to ask about it when she spoke up first.

"Girl, who is that fine ass specimen walking towards us." She asked, gawking over whoever it was. You were sure they couldn't have been that good looking that she had to stop drawing, but you stood corrected when your gaze met Riri's. She had been surveying the room for you, and once the two of you made eye contact she started making her way up the stairs to you. "Wait why she coming up here? And why y'all staring at each other like y'all know each other? Wait, bitch, you know her?"

"Shhh!" You hushed, staring at Riri in shock as start to get closer to where you were seated. Why in the hell why she in your class? Much less in your building? You quickly fixed your shocked face when she stood in front of you, her hands in the pockets of her plain grey nike sweatsuit as she stared down at you. "The fuck is you doing here?" You whispered, looking around for any watching eyes.

"Since when you think it's ok to curse at me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You stayed silent, leaning back in your seat as you mugged her instead of apologizing. She chuckled down at you, obviously a little surprised at your attitude but she didn't mind it, knowing it'd be fixed in no time. "You haven't been answering our texts, mama."

"Yeah, I know." You said, rolling your eyes and going back to your sketchbook. Duh, why tf she staring the obvious like you don't know what you've been doing. You knew exactly what you were doing. Being petty. But ain't no way you was gon watch them sit there and talk to that girl and not react. This was you reacting, and they caused it so they can fix it.

Now you were starting to tick her off. You could tell you were. The way she rolled her tongue against her cheek as she looked down at you. The way her hand clenched up inside of her pocket. The way she softly scoffed under breath when your attention went back to your book. You could tell. It was because you knew how to piss her off. No eye contact, attitude, basically just being disrespectful. She was big on respect.

A hand came between you and your book and before you could stop it, it was snatched from your grasp. Your gaze snapped to her as you stood, trying to reach over the desk to grab the book but to no avail. She kept it out of your reach, using her free hand to grab your own, keeping you in place just from that grip. She leaned her head over your shoulder so her mouth was right by your ear.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're lucky your in class right now. When this class is over you're coming to The Palace. By then I want what ever you got going on fixed." She leaned away from your ear so you were face to face, looking you in the eye. "Or, I will fix it for you. Ok?" She warned, waiting for an answer. You nodded, though you changed to a verbal yes quick after you saw the look on her face. She smirked, pecking your lips before she pulled away. She caught sight of Eden, who's jaw had dropped at the affectionate action. Riri waved, knowing who she was to you before she took her exit, taking the sketchbook with her.

You assumed she took that for assurance that you'd actually show up at The Palace. She knew you rarely went anywhere without it.

Finally relaxing again with her gone, you slumped in your chair. You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you thought about how the rest of your day was going to go. If God was on your side today, you'd still be able to crawl come tomorrow. But it was Friday. Meaning you didn't have class for the next couple of days meaning both Riri and Shuri were less likely to take pity on you. Damn you fucked up. Why couldn't Riri have came on a Teusday?

"Bitch, you know Riri? Wait never mind, you fuck Riri? I couldn't tell that was her at first but you're with Riri? Wait a minute don't she got a girlfriend? And you bottom too? I knew you was just shit talking all them times you-"

"Eden!" You interrupted her, not enjoying the rant that was soon to come. "Yes, I'm with Riri. Yes she has a girlfriend, I'm with her too. Also no one needs to know about the whole bottom shit, you know? We can just...keep it to ourselves." You admitted, looking around the room for anyone that might've been watching the whole interaction. Why did she have to pull that in front everyone? She could've pulled you outside, texted you. You know what, maybe she did text, you had been ignoring her to be fair.

"We gon circle back to the bottom thing but girl you're with two fuckin drug dealers?!" Eden whisper-shouted but still you shushed her, not exactly fond of the idea of them getting caught. "I am shushing! How did you even manage to- wait how the fuck did she get in here?" She asked, looking around like she felt unsafe now.

"Girl first of all calm down. Acting like someone coming to kidnap your ass. They don't do that type of shit anyway. And that front office call was more than likely her so she could make her way up here. I also heard there was a tour or something today? She proli pretended to be apart of it." You answered, still stressed about what you were going to do after this class. You hoped it felt as long as English usually did, the longer you have to form a plan the better.

"Don't she go to MIT? The hell is she doing on Harvard campus?" Eden asked, but more to herself. For the first time since Riri left, she turned to look at you, seeing the nervous look on your face. "Girl why you shaking in your boots for? You bout to get your doonies beat down goodt. By two people! I'd be clacking my heels."

"I'm not even sure that's what's gon happen for real. That's what's making me nervous." You replied, taking your nail into your mouth to bite. Your best friend shrugged, going back to her painting.

"Well either way if you're not here next week I'll tell your teachers you had some sort of accident. Maybe one about your legs not working." She said, giggling to herself. You looked at her with a fake annoyed face, holding in the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You think you funny, huh?" ---------------- Finally, your last class was over. Usually you'd be happy but unfortunately it did not go by as slow as you had hoped. You had no plan. You'd have to go to The Palace.

"I still can't believe you ain't tell me." Eden said, packing up her bag. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, hearing her sniff like she was crying. You swung your own bag over your shoulder, waiting for her to be finished.

"Girl please. Like you be telling me every person that be dicking you down every two to five business days." You scoffed. Eden paused her actions, lifting her eyes to stare at me.

"You ain't een had to do that." She shook her head, finally fitting that fat ass computer into that small ass bag. She threw her bag on and we started to head to the door. As soon as we turned into the hallway we were face to face with Riri. She had been posted up on the wall checking her watch. Eden looked between the two of us, quickly dismissing herself while wishing me good luck.

Ri watched her leave before turning back to me, pushing herself off the wall. She was in the same outfit from before, except now her gold chain was untucked, and you could see what shoes she was wearing. They were just some dunks, ones Shuri bought all three of y'all so we could be matching. Coincidently, you happened to be wearing yours too. Riri leaned in closer to me, You thought she was going to greet you with a kiss. At the last minute, she swerved her head, reaching out and pulling my book bag from off your shoulder.

Yeah. Deserved that one.

She pulled your bag over her own shoulder, reaching her hand out to grab yours and smiling when you took it.

"I see ya attitude fixed." She said, using my hand to pull me so I was walking in front of her, then dropping it. "For now anyways."

"How you even here? I'm sure you got classes or something." You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself when you made it outside. It had gotten colder since morning. You'd forgotten to check the weather again and were wearing a short sleeve shirt. It was a little big too, which made it easier for the win to blow through.

"I got my ways. You of all people should know that by now." She answered shortly, giving you just enough for it to pass as an answer. You felt a soft fabric touch your shoulders and looked behind you to see Riri now in a grey shirt, continuing to make sure her hoodie was covering your shoulders.

"Thank you." You smiled, sticking your arms through the sleeves of the sweater. You zipped up the hoodie, leaning into the girl as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, now next to you. She leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"'Course, ma." She muttered, using her free hand to take her phone out. You sunk into her some more. As petty as you had been, you'd miss her. You'd miss them. Of course you did, but you still weren't happy about the girl. You knew, however, there was no competition. Riri and Shuri would never do that to you. It was just the mere fact that they had entertained her. That's the part that bothered you.

You went to turn into the parking lot, only to be pulled in another direction by Riri. You looked up at her confused, but followed her nonetheless. She led you to some field on campus where a group of white guys were hanging. Some throwing a football, others just sitting and talking. She went up to one of the ones that were sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. Your eyes widened, stepping behind her a little as she dropped her arm from around you, using both hands to type on his phone.

"Yo! What the fuck?" He yelled, standing up so his height difference was apparent. Riri was unfazed, continuing to type something on his phone. You looked over her shoulder, only to see her stuck on his cashapp, he was signed out. Obviously she didn't know the boy's password.

"You owe me." She told him, muttering something else under her breath as she turned the phone to him. "5k."

"5- what?!" He gritted his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about.

"I supplied your entire party white boy. That's how much you and your frat bros snorted. Pay up." Riri demanded. One thing you were quick to learn about her, there were three things she didn't play about. One of those being her money. She was gonna get it one way or another and when the boy didn't move you had learned that today it was going to be another.

You could see Riri getting even more irritated than she already was about the payment being late in the first place. You saw her survey the place one last time before lifting her shirt just little, flashing something. You couldn't see it from behind her but the look on the boy's face told you what it was.

"Ok, damn." The boy agreed, snatching the phone. Riri dropped the end of her shirt, watching as he typed in the information. Soon he turned around the screen to face the two of you, showing that it was sent.

"Good, next time you do a deal with me again, have your money with you. I'm not doing no more after pay with you." She said, not waiting for a reply before she grabbed your hand again and started walking away.

She led you to a familiar foreign and flashy car, opening the door for you to get in and crawling in after you. You could see Okoye, their right hand women, in the driver's seat through the divider of the front and back of the car. You waved shyly and she smiled at you through the rear view mirror.

"I thought you wanted me to meet you at the club, not pick me up." You expressed with slight confusion in your voice. Riri finished typing some things on her phone, sliding it back into her pocket to give you her undivided attention.

"So now you wanna listen?" She questioned, doing the same tilt with her head that she always did when she was mad. So she was definitely still mad. Okoye voided her eyes of the situation after hearing Riri's words, sliding the divider closed. You looked down at your hands, picking at the fresh polish on your nails. Only looking up when you heard Riri snickering. "Clearly I had some business to handle, figured I'd might as well pick you up too. That way I knew you couldn't avoid us. Not that you could even if I didn't."

You rolled your eyes at her cocky behavior, pulling out your own phone from your pocket. You typed in some things, noticing Riri looking at your screen from her position. Dialing your sister's number, you put it up to your ear waiting for her to pick up. "Hey Bianca!" You greeted once it finally did.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm gonna be running a little late tomorrow night, but I don't want you to be staying up late if you do have something to do." You questioned, feeling slightly guilty to be asking this of her.

"No no, it's fine! He can stay longer, it's no problem." Kylie answered, you could practically hear the smile in her voice. Man she must love kids. Asante had been staying there for a week now. Bianca had practically begged for him to come over and spend some time with his cousins, of course you said yes. She didn't live far from you so it wasn't like he couldn't attend school, and you could seen him whenever you liked. He'd been staying there since Wednesday now.

"Ok, thank you so much! I'll send you guys more money for some food and stuff. Could you please put Asante on the phone?" You asked, deciding against ending this call just to call the 6 year old's iPad. The babysitter agreed, and soon you heard your son's voice.

"Hi mommy!" His preppy voice blared through the phone, making you slightly pull the phone away from your ear in surprise.

"Hey baby." You giggled out, putting the phone against your ear. "Mommy's gonna be a little late coming home tomorrow. Do you think you'll be ok? Bianca's gonna stay with you a little longer."

"Yes! I love Aunty Bey, she bought me a new toy car! Does this mean we can have pizza for dinner?"

"Yes, you can have pizza for dinner." You agreed, laughing at his celebrations over the phone. "Okay, when I take you home you can tell me all about school today. Call me if anything happens, okay? I love you."

"You can tell me about yours too! Love you mommy, bye bye."

"Bye, 'Sante." You sighed, hanging up the phone. You put your phone away, looking at Riri after feeling her eyes on you the whole time. "What?"

"Asante could always come to the house, if you want." She offered, not trying to pressure you. You shook your head, laughing at the suggestion.

"No, thank you. The boy hasn't even met you yet, love." You denied, rubbing your hand over her knee. Riri shrugged, throwing her arm to rest on the back of the seats.

"Who's fault is that?" She taunted, watching as you turned your head away from her. She used her hand to turn your head back to her, wanting you to see that she was serious. "Me and Shuri plan on making you a wife. We aren't going anywhere, y/n. We care about you, which means we care about Asante. But, he's your son, we're not going to pressure you into meeting him. Just know that we want to." She assured. You smiled, pulling her in for a hug which she graciously accepted, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest.

"Thank you."

It's not that you didn't want them to meet Asante, your feelings were growing stronger by the day. You didn't stop they'd ever stop growing, really. You were just worried. You didn't want your son hurt. Emotionally, you didn't want him to get attach only for them to not come home one day, a job gone wrong. Physically, they protected you already, and you knew they would protect him even more. But still, there was always room for human error, and you didn't know if that was a chance you were willing to take.

You loved them, but you would always love your son more. Who would you be to purposely put him in harms way for your own gain and comfort? Sacrifice was something you were used to when it came to Asante. But isn't that what mothers do? Then again, maybe there was supposed to be a certain balance. One that you didn't have. --------------- The Palace. It was their club, also their headquarters. It was protected and secured by all women bodyguards, Okoye being one of them. It was also where you met them for the first time, but that's neither here nor there.

You, Okoye, and Riri made your way through the entrance, the metal detector going off as you walked through, but no one said anything. Once you were inside, Riri pressed a small kiss to your head, making you turn to look at her questioningly.

"Go find Shuri, baby. I got something to handle real quick but I'll meet with y'all as soon as I'm done." She stated, signaling Okoye to follow her. You pressed a short kiss to her lips, wishing her luck with whatever she had to do. Then, both her and Okoye left your side.

You never felt scared to be alone in their club. You knew for a fact more than half of the guards were watching your every move, knowing they'd probably suffer consequences if anything happened to you under the roof of The Palace.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

You did not want to find Shuri. She was more than likely pissed. Just like you knew what made Riri mad, you knew what made Shuri mad. And one thing she hated was being ignored by anyone, and you were no exception.

There was also that fact that she was the harsher one out of the two. Usually, you could always pull one over with Riri. Talking back, rolling your eyes, smacking your lips, the whole nine yards. At least, for a while. After a certain amount of times she'd get mad too. But with Shuri, she'd be mad if she even heard you thinking about talking back.

You weren't scared of her by any means, you knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt you purposefully. Intimidated though? Oh yeah, 100 percent you were shitting your pants.

But their was no doubt Shuri had been alerted of your arrival and was keeping and eye out for you. So either she knew where your were and was on her way, or she was already here.

You sighed, excepting your fate as you made your way over to the stairs. She usually stayed on the upper two levels as they were more secluded and had some VIP sections. You climbed all the way up to the third level, hoping for some time to prepare yourself before she caught you.

Your hope was crushed when a hand wrapped around your throat, your back being pressed up against the wall behind you harshly. You were going to let out a panicked scream when your eyes met her familiar chocolate ones, a cocky smirk that her and Riri shared spreading across her face.

"My y/n." She greeted with a light smile, letting you catch a glimpse of the gold grills she wore today. You reached up to grab the wrist of the hang currently around your throat. Shuri noticed, loosening her grip just a little with caution. "What a surprise it is to see you here after what I think was-" She pretended to count on her free hand. "Right. Three weeks."

"It was actually two and a half weeks. Unless you rounded-" Your sentence was cut off when she tightened her grip once again, a silent warning that she was not in the mood for your slick comments today.

"Still a smart aleck." She observed. Her eyes trailed down your figure to take in your outfit, Riri's hoodie that was now open had fallen to an off the shoulder look, showcasing the cropped short sleeve you had on. Other than that, you just had on some simple ripped jeans with writing on them.

Her eyes returned to yours, a certain glint in her eye that made you nervous. Just like Riri had, she leaned in closer so that her lips were right next to your ear as she spoke, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to tell me why you think it is ok to ignore me. To ignore Ri."

Keeping your act up, your turned you head away so she wasn't right next to your ear. Shuri only chuckled at your defiance, taking the opportunity to mark up the now open side of your neck. The hand that was once around your throat moved down so it was on you hip, keeping you pinned against the wall as her lips trailed down, pressing light kisses to your neck that you knew would get harsher soon.

Shuri moved her head so she was in your line of sight again.

"Things haven't changed since you were gone. When I ask you something, you answer." She said, watching as you turned away from her again, crossing your arms. She took your chin in between her thumb and finger, forcing you to look at her. "What happened to my good girl, baby?" She asked, swiping her thumb over your bottom lip. For a second, you almost fell for it. But you snapped yourself out of it, ripping yourself from her grasp and quickly walking away from her before she could react.

You were confused when you didn't hear her footsteps following after you. She could easily catch up as you were still very in her line of sight. But soon your question was answered when Riri appeared out of nowhere, turning a corner and backing into the same position you were just in. Pressed against a wall.

"Such a fucking brat. Walking away when we're talking to you, talking back. What are we gonna do with you?" She asked rhetorically. She gave you a smile, letting her hand come up to pull at one of your hairs that had fallen out of the bun you made. Shuri came to stand next to her and you pressed yourself further into the wall, if that was even possible. Separately, you were willing to pull almost everything. But when the two were finally together, you knew better than to try anything.

Unfortunately, it was too late for anything else. You had to continue. Gots to see it through my boy.

You were gonna 'see it through' alright. ---------------- "Please, I came already." You whined, trying to push Shuri's head away as you came down from your high for the umpteenth time. Riri's hand grabbed yours, pulling them away while she kissed on your neck, trying to calm you down.

"Cum again." Shuri muttered, pressing a wet kiss to your overstimulated clit, chuckling when you jumped from how sensitive you were.

You three had been going at it for what felt like forever. After the whole confrontation, they drove you to their house, teasing you the whole way. Once you did get there, they spared no time getting you to the bed. Since then, it felt like you had done everything under the sun but stop.

Literally, everything. You'd lost count of how many times you'd came, but you knew for a fact it had to be in double digits. You could only imagine how you looked.

Hair frizzy, sweaty, tear stains running down your cheeks, cum around your lips that you were unable to wipe yourself. Riri and Shuri didn't bother to either, quite liking the look on you. You were exhausted, overstimulated, and clinging on to consciousness by a pinky toenail. But they never stopped. There hasn't been a break since you walked through the door.

At first, you were conflicted. You couldn't tell if you even wanted them to stop. It hurt so bad that it started to feel good. The pain blended in with the pleasure and you couldn't help but ask for more. But when you felt another one of Shuri's digits dip in for another round you knew something had to give.

"Okayyy, I'm sorry. Please." You begged, seeing your vision get cloudy as more tears appeared. Riri's voice came from behind you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck though you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Sorry for what, mama?" She pressed. All that came from you were mumbles of an apology as you still tried to break your hands from her grasp.

In the moment you weren't in a good position to realize it, but the fact that she could keep you pinned down with just her own strength was making you even more wet than you already were. Shuri realized though, smirking between your legs as she slowed down her pace.

Shuri used her free hand to push herself up from the bed, kissing up your body and over fresh marks until she met your tired eyes. "What are you sorry for?" She repeated, looking down at you with lidded eyes of her own.

You began to reply but only a groan left you when you felt her purposely angle her fingers at your favorite spot. "Hm?" She mocked, still waiting for an answer.

"M'm sorry for- fuck, sorry for ignoring you." You apologized, your head falling back onto Riri's shoulder as your eyes rolled behind your lids, feeling Shuri speed up once again, targeting that same spot. "Shit, Shuri please."

"Please what, baby?" She teased, tilting her head with a mock of confusion. You whined again, frustrated with her taunting.

She shared a look over your shoulder with Riri, who released your hands and started to pin down you hips instead. Your hands immediately flew out for something to ground you. The first things you could get your hands on being Shuri's wrist and Riri's hand.

"Do you want her stop or do you want more? You're confusing her baby." Riri added, watching closely at how your brows furrowed and your back arched when she applied the slightest amount of pressure to your abused clit, practically shoving you over the edge.

"Stop! I want her to stop." You mumbled, finally able to get your thoughts together enough to make a complete sentence. Having some pity, Shuri slowly dragged her fingers against your walls while she pulled out, curling them one last time just to see you squirm.

Just as slow, she brought them to her lips. Feeling both your and Riri's eyes watching her carefully, she decided at the last second that she wanted you to take them instead. She tapped them on your close lips, watching as you opened them to take in her coated digits.

Taking the sight in, she hums, obviously please with your obedience (as it did take a long time to get back). That was all the acknowledgement she gave you before she and Riri made eye contact over your shoulder again, and Riri's hand began to circle your bud again.

You whimpered, trying to back yourself into the girl to get away from her touch. They both ignored you in their own conversation about what to do with you, Riri keeping you in place while Shuri forced her fingers further down your throat, making you gag.

Suddenly, the feeling of Shuri was ripped from your mouth and replaced with Riri's tongue as they tried to distract you from the feeling of Shuri's slender fingers dipping back into your already sensitive hole. You immediately pulled away, already feeling yourself starting to ache.

"Shuriii." You dragged, watching as the girl lowered between your thighs again. She shushed you, placing a delicate kiss to your thigh, though dangerously close with your entrance.

"Just one more baby, I promise." She soothed, caressing the same thigh she had kissed with her free hand. "Can you do that for us, love?" She spoke softly, taking one of your hands in hers to kiss.

"You've been doing so good for us tonight, pretty girl. We just wanna make you feel good one last time, can you let us do that mama?" Riri coaxed from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach to calm you. Debating, you took Riri's hand in your other one, trying to relax yourself into her. "One more, we promise." She whispered, pressing a sweet kiss right under your ear.

"Okay." You agreed. Your words came out mumbled but they both understood you. Shuri smiled up at you, pressing another kiss to your thigh as a thanks before she joined her fingers that had never stopped moving.

The second her tongue makes contact with your clit your hands are fisting through her hair, pulling around the tight coils on her head.

There are a few more strokes of her tongue before she wraps her lips around your awaiting clit, your slick coating her tongue as she swirls it around your clit just before wrapping her lips around the bud.

Her fingers are buried deep inside of your cunt as she sucks your pulsing bundle of nerves into her mouth. There's a second where she sucks just hard enough to make your vision go white at the same time Riri decides to pinch and rub on the sensitive buds on your chest.

Feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, you let out a load moan when Shuri curls her fingers against your g spot one more time before you let go, clenching the sheets in your hand. Riri whispers sweet praises in your ear, rubbing soothing circles on your hips to calm you down while Shuri fingers you through your high, waiting for your legs to stop shaking before she pulls away, your essence coating both her fingers and lips.

She slipped the drenched fingers between her lips, licking your cum from between her fingers before leaning over your frame to trap Riri's lips in her own, who moaned at the familiar taste of you. Though you were drained, you still manage to keep your hooded eyes open long enough to watch them swapping your cum with each others tongues, eventually swallowing when they had enough.

"Are you ok baby?" Shuri checked, rubbing your side comfortingly. You nodded, sinking into Riri more as she rubbed your thighs. Shuri leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you laugh tiredly, pushing her away. She smiled, leaving you to go get some new sheets, clothes and something to clean you up.

"It wasn't too much, right?" Riri asked softly. Confused by the question, you craned your head to look up at her, not even wanting to attempt to move your bottom half. Riri had already been looking down at you. "I mean, you didn't pass out this time, but still, we didn't overdo it too much?"

"No, Ri," You answered, reaching up with one of your hands to smooth over her cheek. "It felt good, I promise. Even though there was one point where I was fighting for consciousness." You joked and she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "To be fair though, it was supposed to be a punishment so I figured it wouldn't be all love making and soft caressing."

"Yeah, why were you ignoring us in the first place?" She questioned. You shrugged distractedly, running your thumb over her furrowed brow. "y/n, I'm serious." She said, taking your hand from her face and holding it in her's. You let out a dramatic groan. She was ruining the vibes.

"I got mad because y'all were talking to that bitch Ashley." You mumbled, playing with the hand that had took yours. Before she could even respond you continued on, defending your actions. "But I had a right to be mad, I mean y'all went into a whole ass private room with that chick. Without me!"

"Ok, first off, Okoye was in there so we couldn't have done anything, not like we would want to. We only talk to Ashley about business, that conversation wasn't any different. But, if it helps whenever we talk to her again, we'll make sure you're there too." She compromised and you agreed, thanking her. You two continued talking until Shuri returned with a wet cloth, some sheets, and new clothes.

And the night ended with a nice warm bath. Which you fell asleep in. ----------------

You groaned waking up to the sound of your ringtone. You stretched, feeling a certain weight on your chest. Looking down you saw Riri sleeping soundly with one hand up your shirt and on your boob, Shuri spooning her. You smiled at the sight, reaching over to your nightstand for your phone. You wondered how two supposedly high alert dealers hadn't woken up from the sound, but no matter.

"Bianca?" You mumbled, messing with the features on Riri's face. Two big and bag drug lords and yet they looked like puppies in their sleep.

"y/n, when are you coming to get Asante? No rush, because I'd keep him around forever if you'd let me, I just wanna have him packed up and ready to go." Your sister asked, you could hear your nieces and nephews running around in the background. You pulled the phone away from your ear, checking your phone and groaning once you saw how close it was to noon.

"I'll be there at like, one. I still have to shower and everything." You said, rubbing your hand down your face. You and Bianca chatted about some smaller things before she finally hung up, giving you time to get ready. You smiled at the two next to you, leaning down to press a kiss onto both of their lips, even though they weren't awake to respond to it.

You pulled Riri's strong grip off your titty. She was holding on it like a hungry newborn. You replaced yourself with the pillow behind you, slipping out of the bed, only for you to stumble into the nightstand when you did, startling both of them awake.

The two sprung up from their place as if they weren't just knocked with drool in the corner of their mouths, searching the room frantically until their eyes settled on you, who was currently using the nightstand to stand. They turned to look at each other, holding in their laughs. You glared at them, trying to keep yourself upright so they took your next words serious.

"Both of y'all shut the fuck up and come help me to the bathroom."

"We ain't een say nothing." Riri protested, though she swung her legs to the side, getting up to come help you.

"You ain't need to, your face said enough." You said, holding your hand up for her to help you. Riri disregarded your hand, her small frame bending down to toss you over her shoulder. "Riri!"

"You told me to help you, now you mad I'm helping you. You just acting like this cause we fucked ya lace front off and now you walking like there's an earthquake."

"Shut the hell up and take me to the damn bathroom, Riri!" You demanded, smacking her back and flipping off Shuri who watched on from her position in the bed, clearly amused. ----------------

BRING BACK SHURI AND RIRI X READER ALL 2024!! I'm jumping into the writing scene because i honestly miss the era where everything was about them, and i miss some of my fav writers😔✊🏾

anyways hope yall enjoyed

thank you guys for the inspiration, whether old fics or new @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed @quintessencewrites @saintwrld @marsolgy @pinkwright @vixentheplanet

#riri williams #riri wiliams x reader #ironheart #ironheart x reader #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x riri #dominique thorne #letitia wright #shuriri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #riri x reader #wlw

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senka-mesecine · 4 months ago

Note

You know what I'm imagining about a Hiker!Reader on the Appalachian trail?

Lets say Barnes saves her and tactically plays nice (or as nice as he can play) scoping out the territory as it were. Insists to go meet the group she got separated from while he's effectively returning her back to them and ensuring she's on her trail safely. Then, things go so well that Barnes sits down with said hikers and has a 'friendly' poker game with them over some beers and everything seems to go astoundingly smooth. Suspiciously smooth, actually. What the reader doesn't know that the rules of this seemingly harmless game were ~'You win, your friend gets to stay with you and I don't kill you all, but if you lose, you all die and I'm taking her back with me. So y'all best make sure you go 'round winnin' 'cos the stakes are your lives.'

Texas Hold 'Em.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

wonderful gif by @woman-with-no-name

---

There's a sigh of deep relief that escapes your chapped mouth as you set down your backpack and equipment at the foot of the singles bed; a full week and two days later, finally within the confines of what could be called semi-civilization again; heating, clean sheets, a roof over your head, mandatory toiletries and running water involved. Takes a moment or two to get acclimatized in silence and in the confines of solitude --- in your reveries, you somehow imagined you'd immediately throw yourself down on the mattress in absolute jubilation and relief, jacket, boots and all and just relish being in the waypoint lodge again instead of being stranded out there in the wilderness, but as things were, you merely sit at the edge of the one person bed mutely, staring out the window frame encompassing a the woodland vista not unlike a framed picture on a nail hanging off the beige wall.

You're not sure what you would've done without him.

Yes, him.

Barnes accompanied you here like he said he would and you don't know why a sense of repose washed over you the minute you were alone behind closed doors; just the same, you couldn't explain why there was a hollowness bubbling around in your gut being alone without him somewhere behind you, around you, near you, for the first time in a week. Must be the hunger, you tell yourself. This would be the last you'd see of him, your mind whispers, even though closure was given. You said your goodbyes which he accepted or didn't accept, you couldn't tell where he was concerned either ways, doing so in relative, dignified silence and that was as good of a closure as you got. He went off to play a game of poker with your group, you supposed, doing as men do, bonding over drinks, recuperating his strength, even though he seemed indomitable in that regard, and once he's done, he'd be gone. The knock on your door nearly startles you like someone could read your thoughts if you weren't careful enough. How long has it been? You figured it's only then that you realize you've been sitting at the edge of the bed for half an hour without doing as much as unzipping your insulated windbreaker. You mutter something at the closed entrance, inviting however it was inside. The familiar face of one of the resort's caretakers peeks through; you feel bad for not immediately remembering her name. Maybe you did know it by heart. Before the incident. Before you got lost.

-"So, you're settled in? All good? Want us to call someone?"-

She asks with a small smile, making a suggestion, not unkindly.

-"Yeah, all fine, thank you. Nothing's broken."-

You look up at her, managing one yourself; throwing her a half-grin you don't feel.

She steps inside and looks at you like she was inspecting you, still fully dressed in your hiking attire like you were on the verge of jumping back up and just leaving any second, taking a seat next to you on the bed, appearing a little worried and maternal in her scrutiny; the type of thing that just pushed you to explain further. You didn't want her to go out there and tell everyone else you were...well...perplexed. In a state of sorts. Indisposed.

-"Just a little out of it, you know?"-

You're apologetic and it wasn't a lie.

The middle aged woman gives you a sympathetic, warm look.

-"Understandable. You've been through an ordeal."- She coos, tapping your shoulder in consolation and then the protective aura disperses so something else can take it's place; itching curiosity. Her eyes dance between the door she left ajar and you, like she was anxious someone would eavesdrop from the hallway if she wasn't careful enough. -"Listen, if you don't mind, I've gotta ask..."- She begins, somewhat conspiratorial, her eyes stilling.

-"Where'd you find this guy?"-

She asks, hushed.

You immediately knew she meant Barnes.

-"He found me."-

You explain simply.

---

You wake up in the middle of the night.

You're not sure what it is; the cabin was entirely silent. Your mouth wasn't dry. Your stomach full of food the resort's managerial brought up for you and the need for a midnight trip to the toilet hardly the cause for you practically jolting awake out of a dreamless sleep; your equipment on the nearby armchair forming a vaguely human-like silhouette, momentarily making you think he was in the room with you watching you sleep; it merely being your rucksack, backpack, jacket and equipment folded and discarded, leaving you only in your clothes; somehow, you couldn't shake off the notion that you weren't out of the woods yet, both literally and figuratively, causing you to fall asleep fully dressed, in a turtleneck, trousers and thick, wooly socks, like you were still resting in a tent under the open sky. You rub your eyes awake, setting your feet down on the brown gingham pattern carpet and slowly open your room's door, letting a faint ribbon of light peeking in from downstairs flood into your abode; There was someone still downstairs. You confess to yourself then, as you slowly made your way down the corridor, that you figured you partially forced yourself to sleep so you wouldn't witness him leaving or need to deal with it, having hoped that by the time you'd wake up in the morning, he would've been gone and just a very strange footnote in your life. The man who rescued you that one time and the man you'd never see again, something in your heart clenching right along with your gut once you spot the small round table in the downstairs hall seated with five people, Barnes being one of them; a company engrossed in what seemed like a card game from the top of the staircase where you stood.

They were playing in complete and utter silence.

Faces mercifully downcast, not likely to notice you.

You tip toe down the carpeted steps, praying not to be sighted; almost like a ready crossfire locking target, Barnes's eyes spot you before you even make it into the spacious room, eying you from the table; you never knew what to make of his stares and glares. Always had the hairs on on the back of your neck standing up. Almost a clemency compared to the look you get from the counter --- the kindly woman from earlier that day that was comforting you replaced by the visage of something similar to suppressed, tight-lipped sourness, like she wasn't pleased at all and intended to let you know it too. Julie, the card counter says; yeah. That was her name. You scoot closer, trying not to be heard, but not be so obvious as to showcase that you were inquiring on the situation.

-"He's still here?"-

You murmur, unsure if you were disappointed or secretly elated.

She was rinsing down and polishing glasses.

One beer cup after the other.

Just as many meant for scotch and hard liquor.

How...many rounds of booze was served here tonight?

-"They've been at it for hours."-

She explains quietly, keeping her gaze fixated on the sink. -"Gambling on premises is against house policy, I said, but there's no money involved, so that's peachy keen by me. Just recreational then."- Julie adds, shaking her head disapprovingly; No hikers doing substances. No hikers gambling. No violence. No firearms. Those were some of the basic conduct rules displayed on a plaque nailed next to the entrance. She raises her head and shoots you a quick glimpse, something you don't quite understand in her expression. A trace of passive aggression to contrast her concern and tenderness from this morning. -"Awfully engrossed in that little game of poker."- She jabs. Yes. You felt it was a jab, although why, you couldn't tell. You fidget on the bar stool, unsure of what to respond back to that, so you say whatever pleasantry to fill conversation space. Uh...what was she accusing you of, exactly? That Barnes stuck along longer than he should've? Past curfew? Nowhere in the rules did it say that visitors technically weren't allowed and the man walked across the mountain with you in tow. If anything he...deserved to at least catch some shut eye here before moving on. Not that he was doing that apparently, but still. Where he got the energy you couldn't tell. -"I didn't even know anyone here was that passionate when it comes to card games."- You chuckle, awkwardly, making small talk. Or at least trying. -"Yeah, well, quite a character you've dragged up here."- She interjects, her bitterness now fully on display, so much so it takes you aback. What the...Sure, you knew he was intimidating to look at and intense seeming, former army type guy, but he brought you back safe and sound without a single complaint or without asking anything in return out of you, so naturally, maybe it was a bit of a bother to keep quarters open so late and the refills going, but he wasn't a man eating mountain Sasquatch. Couldn't just throw the man out after all the effort he put into, oh, you didn't even know --- saving your ass, maybe? -"He's not bad, he's just ---"- You try, but by the time the entirety of that sentence could cross the threshold of your mouth, Julie rushes into the kitchen backrooms, a rotating door left wagging behind her, not even letting you say what you were going to say.

Your eyes land on the clock on the wall.

Was after one in the morning.

Guilt settles in your gut.

Once you look at the entirely silent poker table, Barnes is still looking back at you.

A fan of cards balanced in his hand leisurely.

Instinctively, you cross your legs.

---

The remainder of that night is spent sleepless.

Outdoors.

What the heck was the matter with you?

Why were you scooting next to a creek running at the foot of the waypoint cabin at five in the morning, washing out your travelling bottles, polishing your hiking boots and reorganizing your stuff? One of those irrational set of actions a person had to do even while they were aware of the fact how random and willful it was, almost as a way of distracting oneself and keep busy by force; fact was, Barnes still didn't leave. Sluggishly slithering into the crack of dawn, you occasionally threw the odd inquisitive gaze at the main exit out of the cabin purely to catch a glimpse of him returning from where he came, but as things were, that poker session must've been still going and your breath fogs as you conclude you felt like someone hiding in ambush, restless, unsure why that was the case; You offered the man money as thanks, and he wouldn't take it. You tried to offer him whatever else he wanted and he wouldn't take that either. Gratitude, complements, not even you trying to be his friend on the way here worked; one of those singularly focused, stubborn people, by the looks of it. He appeared to be the type hellbent on just doing what needed to be done, in this case, bringing you right back here, and then moving along his merry way. Did...that bother you? Or was it a relief? That you didn't have to enforce some kind of situational sense of eternal acknowledgment? You didn't know. Couldn't tell. Maybe why you couldn't sleep either. You were certain you wouldn't sleep right so long as Robert Barnes was on the premises --- and when he left, you wouldn't be able to sleep because he was gone.

Finally, a sign of movement.

One of the hikers seemed to be in an awful hurry; arms crossed over her jacket as she looked around, boots pacing impatiently on the threshold while she was looking left and right, appearing anxious, her breath on the cold air as white as cigarette smoke; to your knowledge, part of a Swiss expedition that came out here and separated into three smaller groups along the way; you never were very close. Maybe why it was so surprising that her eyes seemed to light up once she spotted you crouching by the water, almost as if you were precisely who she was looking for. So much so that she practically runs towards you. No, you didn't want to play poker and it was futile to try and rope you into it.

-"What's wrong?"-

You ask, drying off your hands drench in freezing creek water on a washcloth once she finally halts in front of you, out of breath.

-"You don't have to go with him!"-

She announces out nowhere, body language wild, causing her to speak with her hands; exhausted less so due to any sort of actual fatigue and more so due to what you could only register as fear. -"We'll call the police, we ---"- She starts suggesting, brows furrowed and you have to cut in, standing up, fidgety. -"What do you mean go with him?"- You murmur, stuttering, tapping your foot in place, almost like the morning cold finally started settling in your bones. -"What are you talking about?"- You chuckle nervously, first instinct wondering if they were all playing some sort of elaborate joke on you; once her face remains unchangingly harrowed, your shoulders drop only to tense up once again, heart pounding in your chest. -"What happened?"- You ask, startled once she places both hands on your elbows. She nearly vails, seething through gritted teeth. -"He said it's either you or our lives."- She scoots her face so close you can see the primal terror reflected in her eyes, momentarily distracting you from the fact that a crowd of people exited the waypoint lodge, arguing amongst themselves, gathering at her back, headed by Barnes. He looks at you, head on. -"Now, try and deny it, you asshole!"- One of the men argues him, arms flailing accusatory, lifting up his index finger almost like he intended to point at his chest, only to change his mind in the last minute once he found Barnes's torso and whole body unflinching, almost relaxed in a flocked by a gaggle of several hikers. What --- what on earth did he do in there while you were out here reorganizing? -"You had a gun on you the whole time too!"- One of them speaks up, all high pitched tones and you feel your mouth fall agape; that sound old guilt from before creeping right back in. Sure, you knew that. He scarcely made an effort to hide it. And, out here, living on the mountain, you could hardly blame him for being armed with at least something. -"And just by looking at him I'm certain he had more than just that!"- Julie, the lodge's caretaker interjects from the back, eliciting nods and whispers of approval and somehow, you felt you were crucially missing a point as you observed Barnes's face riddled with quiet pride, like he was enjoying some sort of private joke only he understood.

So, he came in, he was packing heat, spent a night indulging in cards with no stakes and now he was about to leave. And? Wasn't it just best to let him leave?

-"Can't play poker for shit."-

Barnes spits at his own feet in what could be deemed profuse disgust.

Cigarette hanging askew from his mouth.

Looking at you rather than looking at any of them, addressing you directly.

Like he was letting you know something.

And then it hits you; thunder out of the blue.

-"I was the thing you were gambling in all night?"-

You mutter so quietly you can barely deduce whether anyone heard you at all or if it was merely your thoughts narrating your own conclusions back to you; the grip the Swiss woman had on you only tightening. Like she was keen on being a wall between you and potential harm. A short lived courage once Barnes easily scoots past her, shoving her away, his hand effortlessly picking up the handle of your packed rucksack by the river with all the leisure of ownership. One of them looks away; like the sight of Barnes's scar made him uncomfortable. You feel your own face press into a sullen grimace. -"Won'ya twelve times in a row. Didn't even cheat."- He brags, throwing his jaw out, rendering you speechless. So...that's why the lodge's manager was so pissed with you last night at the bar. Money wasn't being the winning stake gambled over, but... -"Ma'am."- Barnes nods his head with a gesture directed at an otherwise speechless Julie, right before taking a hold of your wrist and walking forward with you, letting you go soon after; once the pep in your step returns and you surprise yourself once you realize you were eagerly walking beside him, down the road. -"Go and get a move on, girl."- He directs, hauling your luggage, hikers left to stand around in a semi circle as pale as ghosts, like they were still deciding what to do. You were leaving with him. You were leaving and actually felt...content. It was madness, insanity, irrationality, stupidity, but you were doing it anyway; the invisible pressure that was weighing on you ever since he escorted you back here lifting; bouncing off of you like a wave. -"Why go to the effort of all that?"- You have to inquire, trying to keep up his pace, finding yourself practically running after him and his wide strides down the hill's slope as you were hastily adjusted your scarf and gloves. God, were you happy about this? You were certain that if he wanted you to make a sharp turn back around with him, he could've made that happen without the fanciful addition of gambling for it. The self-assuredly smug express he gives you mid-movement tells you he did it because he could and because he specifically choose to do it that way. -"'Cos they ought to leave Texas Hold 'Em in the hands of sumn' who knows their elbow from their asshole."- Barnes tilts his head, chuckling and you find yourself actually smiling, hurrying down the beaten path that led up here.

-"Come back!"-

Someone's voice from the cabin shouts after you; the hillside echoing, but you've long since decided on being gone by then.

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