#Magnetic Spot Comfort Kit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fioredeciliego · 3 months ago

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No.1 Part Anthem - Winter x Fem!Reader

be warned, there is smut 13k words

Under the dim lights, Minjeong leaned over her guitar, running her fingers along the strings as she checked the sound for the third time. The low murmur of anticipation filled the bar as people drifted in, and she found herself absently watching the door.

This was another Wednesday night gig at The Velvet Den, a small but popular spot for indie bands in the city. It had a cozy stage with a few beaten-up stools and a dark red velvet backdrop, lending the place its grunge charm. Minjeong knew this bar well—she’d played here with Velvet Starlight almost every week for the past year. Though it was a solid routine, recently, it was starting to feel… flat.

Jimin glanced over with a knowing smirk, a hint of mischief in her eyes as she adjusted her bass strap. “Minjeong,” she started, clearly trying to hide a grin, “don’t tell me you haven’t written anything new yet.”

Minjeong scoffed, brushing her bangs back and giving her an exaggerated eye-roll. “Please, I barely have time for sleep these days. Let alone a muse.”

Yizhuo, who was busy restringing her guitar nearby, chimed in, leaning into the banter. “Or maybe you just haven’t found the right muse yet,” she teased, winking. “Someone to finally get past all those rumors.”

Aeri, ever the instigator, joined in, leaning over her drum kit with a laugh. “C’mon, Minjeong, you can’t pretend you don’t have options. Half the people who come here are just here for you.”

Minjeong waved them off, chuckling. “You’re all ridiculous. Seriously, life’s too boring right now. I wouldn’t even know what to write about.”

They laughed, sharing a look that made Minjeong groan inside. The girls knew her reputation wasn’t true, but they still loved to tease her for it. There was no denying that some fans tried to get close, even if her reserved demeanor was often mistaken for allure. Still, she wasn’t as wild as everyone assumed; if anything, her nights usually ended with late-night jam sessions or scrolling through music playlists until she fell asleep.

Soon, the doors opened, and people began filling in, leaning against the bar and claiming tables close to the stage. The pre-show atmosphere was settling in, a mix of dim lighting and murmured conversations. Minjeong checked her guitar one last time, letting herself sink into the warm familiarity of these moments before a show.

When it was finally time to start, they kicked off with a high-energy track, letting the beat and rhythm wash over the crowd. The girls were in their element, losing themselves in the synergy of their instruments and the hazy lights that moved with the music. Minjeong felt herself slipping into that comforting state where her fingers moved on their own, her focus narrowed to the music.

But as they transitioned to one of their slower songs, a haunting melody that filled the space with a quiet intensity, Minjeong’s gaze drifted past the crowd, scanning the bar.

And that’s when she saw you.

Sitting casually at the bar, framed by the warm glow of the dim lights, was a girl who seemed like she belonged there—yet somehow stood out entirely. She was leaning against the counter, her posture relaxed as she listened to her friends, one hand holding a drink with easy confidence. The soft, smudged eyeliner, dark lipstick, and tousled hair were a perfect combination of bold and effortless. She wore a leather jacket over a white top that hugged her frame, a couple of necklaces layered over her collarbone, glinting with every small movement. She wore a short black denim skirt, paired with boots that looked well-traveled, like they’d been to more places than most people had.

There was something magnetic about her, a calm self-assurance that felt out of reach, and Minjeong felt herself falter for the briefest moment. Her fingers stumbled over a chord, the soft slip almost imperceptible. She recovered quickly, her eyes darting back to her guitar as she forced herself to focus on the melody, even as her heart raced.

But the pull was impossible to ignore. Her gaze kept finding its way back to the girl at the bar. She’d occasionally laugh at something her friends said, her smile both warm and sharp, as if she knew the effect it had. She looked up, glancing around the room, and her gaze landed on Minjeong just for a heartbeat.

Minjeong’s breath caught, her fingers pressing down a bit too hard on the strings, making the note come out harsher than she intended. She softened her touch, mentally cursing herself. She’d performed a thousand times, yet somehow, this girl had her more flustered than she cared to admit.

As the song reached its crescendo, Minjeong chanced another glance, hoping the lights were dim enough to hide the fact that she was, for once, absolutely captivated. And when the girl lifted her drink to her lips, casting a side glance toward the stage, there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as if she too had noticed Minjeong’s lingering gaze.

The song came to an end, and the crowd erupted in applause. Minjeong barely registered it, feeling the adrenaline buzzing beneath her skin as they transitioned into their next song. But all she could think about was the girl at the bar—the one who had managed, in a single night, to make her life feel a little less ordinary.

Y/N had spent the day carefully cultivating a cocoon of quiet. Her tiny studio apartment was the perfect sanctuary—dim lights, a mountain of blankets, and a carefully curated lineup of comfort movies waiting for her. She’d kicked off her shoes, nestled herself into her coziest pajamas, and piled a ridiculous amount of snacks around her. A perfect night in, with no disruptions.

That was, until her phone buzzed insistently. She ignored it at first, but a second notification appeared, then a third, each accompanied by an enthusiastic vibration. She sighed, glancing at her phone to find her friends, Yunjin and Minji, launching an all-out text attack.

“Come on, you need to get out of that little cave of yours!”

“It’s a crime against girlhood to stay in every weekend, you know.”

Y/N stared at her phone, torn between the pull of her warm, safe cocoon and the lure of a night out that Yunjin and Minji clearly weren’t going to let her skip. She gave in with a groan, quickly typing back a begrudging “Fine, but I’m wearing the first thing I find,” before rolling off the couch and reluctantly swapping her pajamas for a skirt and a simple white tee. She pulled on a leather jacket for good measure and checked herself in the mirror, feeling more or less presentable.

Yunjin and Minji were waiting outside, beaming as if she’d just returned from the dead.

“Told you she’d come out eventually,” Yunjin teased, linking her arm through Y/N’s. Minji flashed a grin, grabbing her other arm as they pulled her into the lively city streets.

They arrived at The Velvet Den, a tucked-away bar with an eclectic crowd and a charmingly rugged vibe. The bar had old-school posters plastered on the walls, low lights casting an amber glow over everything, and the faint, comforting smell of old leather and wood. Y/N had to admit it was the kind of place she might like if she were in the right mood.

As they entered, the beat of a slow, steady song hit her. The music wasn’t just background noise here—it filled every corner, creating an atmosphere that felt almost alive. She glanced at the stage, and her eyes caught on a four-piece band, each member lost in the music. Yunjin led them over to the bar, where they ordered drinks and began shouting a conversation over the music, laughing as they tried to catch up with each other’s words.

But as Y/N settled in, she started to feel something strange—an odd sense of awareness, a prickling on the back of her neck, like she was being watched. The feeling was familiar yet unusual, pulling her from her chat with Minji as she turned, almost instinctively, toward the stage.

And there she was. The lead guitarist, her attention fixed on Y/N with a look that was intense and focused, like she was trying to see through the dim lights and smoke of the bar. She had a quiet but striking beauty—dark eyes under long lashes, loose hair falling just over her shoulders, and a posture that spoke of ease and confidence. She held the guitar like an extension of herself, her fingers moving over the strings in a way that made it seem almost effortless. She was magnetic, the kind of person who could draw attention without even trying, but somehow, her gaze felt direct, almost… searching.

Y/N’s heart stuttered, caught in that gaze like a moth to a flame. They locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Y/N remembered herself and quickly looked away, hiding her blush behind her drink.

“Hello?” Yunjin waved a hand in front of Y/N’s face, a mischievous grin spreading as she realized what had caught her attention. “Y/N, don’t look now, but I think you’ve got an admirer.”

Minji leaned in, a smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like the guitarist has a thing for quiet girls. Guess you’re exactly her type.”

Y/N laughed, trying to brush off the remark, though her cheeks felt warm. “Please, I’m sure she’s just scanning the crowd. It’s part of the whole mysterious rocker look.”

But her friends exchanged knowing looks, ignoring her attempt at nonchalance. “Uh-huh,” Yunjin said, smirking over the rim of her drink. “Pretty sure she was just looking at you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t shake the thought. The guitarist’s gaze had felt so direct, like she’d been picked out from the rest of the crowd on purpose. And even now, as she tried to brush it off, a flicker of curiosity was tugging at her. Who was this girl on stage, with her brooding look and intense presence? Y/N’s fingers drummed lightly on her glass as she tried to refocus on her friends’ conversation, but her gaze kept drifting back.

When she allowed herself another glance, her heart skipped again. The guitarist was still looking at her, her expression caught between a smile and a look of quiet intrigue, as if Y/N had pulled her attention just as much as she’d pulled Y/N’s.

This time, Y/N let herself look a little longer, taking in the way the guitarist moved with the music. Her focus seemed to sharpen whenever her eyes met Y/N’s, each glance filled with a subtle intensity that made it impossible to look away. It was the kind of stare that felt like it meant something, like an unspoken invitation that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

The music continued to flow, filling the space between them, and Y/N tried to keep up with the banter from her friends, though her mind kept wandering back to the girl on stage. The way her fingers slid along the guitar, her shoulders relaxed yet focused, the look in her eyes that seemed to promise more than just a passing glance—it was all a little intoxicating, like a faint, buzzing thrill she didn’t want to resist.

As the last chord of their closing song faded into the noise of the crowd’s applause, Minjeong felt a strange, urgent energy humming through her. She’d barely made it through the set with her usual focus—she’d messed up twice, fingers slipping on familiar notes, distracted by the image of a girl sitting near the bar with that easy, unbothered confidence.

When the band left the stage, she was practically vibrating with anticipation. She wanted—needed—to see her again, and every second that ticked by felt like forever. But before she could make her escape, the girls intercepted her backstage, each of them wearing expressions that were a mixture of curiosity and barely restrained laughter.

“Minjeong, what was up with those slip-ups tonight?” Jimin was the first to call her out, arms crossed, a playful eyebrow raised. “I thought we were supposed to be the pros around here.”

Minjeong groaned, torn between the thrill of getting out there to find that girl and the embarrassment of being caught so obviously off her game. “I know, I know,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just—” She hesitated, feeling a bit ridiculous for what she was about to say. But, well, if anyone would understand, it’d be her bandmates.

Aeri looked her up and down, catching on to her hesitation. “Ooooh, did our Minjeong get distracted?” she teased, her voice light, but her smirk was sharper than ever.

Minjeong sighed, trying not to look as flushed as she felt. “I don’t know what to tell you guys. I think… I think I just met the love of my life.”

The room went silent for a second before it erupted into laughter. Yizhuo laughed so hard she almost fell backward, catching herself on Jimin’s shoulder. Minjeong bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up even more as the girls practically doubled over, throwing playful jabs her way.

“Love of your life, huh?” Jimin said, trying to catch her breath as she wiped away a stray tear from laughing. “Wow, you’re really going for the hopeless romantic vibe tonight, aren’t you?”

“Wait, wait,” Yizhuo gasped, grinning as she leaned in. “Tell us more. Who’s the lucky girl who stole the heart of the Kim Minjeong?”

“Not that it’s exactly hard to win your heart,” Aeri teased. “But this time sounds serious.”

Minjeong tried to laugh along, but she couldn’t shake the urgency pulling her toward the bar. “Look, I’d love to stay and let you guys roast me, but if I don’t go find her right now, I might actually lose my mind,” she said, a touch of impatience in her tone as she moved toward the door. “Let me go, and I’ll tell you everything later, promise.”

Jimin chuckled, finally letting her go with a pat on the back. “Alright, Romeo, go find your Juliet. Just don’t come crying to us if it’s another ‘tragic romance’ story.”

Minjeong flashed them a quick grin and slipped out of the room, her heart racing. As soon as she entered the main area of the bar, a small group of people noticed her, and almost immediately, she was surrounded. It happened a lot after shows, and usually, she didn’t mind. She’d smile, chat a bit, and enjoy the rush of attention. But tonight was different. Her mind was too busy, too focused on finding that one girl.

“Hey, Minjeong!” someone called, leaning a little too close, hand brushing her shoulder. Another girl wrapped her arm around her for a picture, and a few others were trying to get her attention, voices overlapping, laughter loud and bright.

She tried to be polite, flashing quick smiles, offering a few distracted words, but she couldn’t stay still. She gently brushed off the hands reaching for her, politely excusing herself as she scanned the bar, her eyes searching. She had no idea if the girl would even still be there, but the thought of missing her felt oddly unbearable.

Finally, she made it to the bar stools where she’d last seen her, only to feel her heart sink. There were two familiar faces there, but not the one she’d been hoping for. It was the girl’s friends, the ones who’d been laughing and chatting with her all night.

Yunjin, noticing her approach, raised an eyebrow and shot her a knowing look, her lips twitching into a sly grin. “Looking for someone?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

Minjeong froze for a split second, wondering if she should play it off or admit it, but she quickly decided there was no point in pretending. “Yeah, actually… I am,” she replied, trying to keep her voice casual, but her expression betrayed her eagerness. “Is she—uh, is your friend still here?”

Yunjin and Minji exchanged a glance before they burst into quiet laughter, clearly enjoying the moment a little too much. “She went outside to get some fresh air,” Minji said with a grin, nodding toward the bar’s exit. “Maybe she’s waiting for someone to come talk to her.”

Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” she murmured, barely able to contain her excitement as she turned and practically bolted toward the door.

Stepping outside, she was immediately greeted by the crisp, cool air of the night. She slowed down, catching her breath, and looked around—and there she was. The girl she’d been searching for, leaning casually against the wall a few feet away, bathed in the soft, silvery light of the moon. She seemed lost in thought, her face illuminated by a gentle glow that made her look almost ethereal. Her dark hair caught the light, cascading over her shoulders, and her leather jacket looked even more striking in the dim night, lending her an air of effortless cool that took Minjeong’s breath away.

Minjeong stood frozen, just taking her in, feeling like an idiot for the way her heart raced. She had no idea what to say or how to start a conversation without stumbling over her words, but she couldn’t look away.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, the girl turned her head, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s in that same intense way they had during the performance. Time seemed to slow as they stared at each other, the distance between them feeling both unbearably close and impossibly far.

The girl’s lips curved into a small smile, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as if to say, Well, are you just going to stand there? Minjeong felt a rush of embarrassment and excitement crash over her, but she couldn’t help the goofy grin that tugged at her own lips.

She wanted to say something smooth, something charming, but the words were stuck somewhere between her mind and her mouth. So instead, she took a small, tentative step forward, feeling both exhilarated and terrified. The girl’s smile softened, her gaze warm and steady, and Minjeong felt like she was caught in some kind of spell, the world fading away until it was just the two of them under the stars.

Finally, she managed to find her voice, though it came out a little softer than she’d intended. “Hey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the final applause died down and the band disappeared backstage, Y/N could still feel the lingering thrum of the music vibrating through her. She knew she probably looked distracted, but she couldn’t shake the feeling—the energy—of those glances Minjeong had thrown her way throughout the performance. It was as if every time Minjeong looked her way, Y/N could feel the intensity, the pull of it, right down to her bones.

“Hey,” Yunjin nudged her, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “You’re not thinking about anyone specific, are you?”

“Yeah,” Minji chimed in, flashing her a mischievous look. “Maybe someone with a guitar and a pretty face?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, waving them off with a huff. “I’m just going outside for a bit of air. Don’t wait up.” She shot them a playful glare before slipping through the crowd, ignoring their quiet laughter behind her.

Outside, the cool night air washed over her, calming the flurry of emotions she hadn’t expected to feel tonight. Leaning back against the wall, she took a deep breath, staring up at the stars and letting her thoughts wander back to Minjeong. There’d been something magnetic about the way she played, fingers gliding over the guitar, eyes finding Y/N in the crowd like she was the only one there. Y/N had felt those glances linger, like they’d been sharing some unspoken secret all night.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the soft sound of footsteps approaching. It was that feeling again—eyes on her, that strange, invisible pull. She turned her head, and there she was. Minjeong stood just a few feet away, looking at her with wide, slightly nervous eyes, a shy smile tugging at her lips. The moonlight softened her features, casting a gentle glow over her flushed cheeks and messy hair, and Y/N felt her breath catch.

Unable to hide her amusement, Y/N raised an eyebrow, giving her a teasing look as if to say, Well, are you just going to stand there?

Minjeong blinked, caught off guard, before taking a small, hesitant step forward, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. “H-Hey,” she managed, her voice soft and a little shaky. She looked almost… bashful, her gaze darting between Y/N’s eyes and the ground.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, the warmth in her chest growing at seeing Minjeong so adorably flustered. She’d expected a cool, confident rockstar, but this shy, slightly awkward girl was even more intriguing.

“H-Hey,” Minjeong repeated, laughing nervously as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Um, I don’t usually… do this, but I saw you, and…” She trailed off, cheeks turning even redder. “I just wanted to, you know, say hi.”

Y/N chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the wall. “Just ‘hi,’ huh? I got the impression you had a lot more to say when you were looking at me from the stage.”

Minjeong’s mouth opened, then closed, clearly at a loss for words. She laughed, embarrassed, as her eyes dropped to the ground. “Was it… that obvious?” she murmured, sneaking a glance up at her, looking both mortified and amused.

“Just a little.” Y/N’s teasing smile softened, her tone gentler now. “But I didn’t mind it. I mean, maybe I was looking back once or twice, too.”

Minjeong’s eyes brightened, and she bit her lip, that shy smile coming back as she looked at Y/N with a mix of relief and excitement. “Really?” she asked, voice filled with a kind of innocent disbelief that only made her more endearing.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I came out here to clear my head, actually. Because of you.”

Minjeong’s breath hitched, and she looked away for a moment, visibly gathering her courage. She took another small step forward, her eyes now steady on Y/N’s, and for a moment, the shy, uncertain expression melted away, replaced by something more confident, more daring.

“I’m really glad I came out here,” Minjeong said softly, her voice carrying an unexpected sincerity. “I was, uh… kind of hoping I might see you again. And, um, maybe… ask you something.”

“Oh?” Y/N felt her heart beat faster, her eyes never leaving Minjeong’s.

Minjeong took a breath, looking almost like she was bracing herself for a big moment. “I was wondering… if I could know your name. I didn’t get a chance to ask while I was… you know, staring at you.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling herself blush despite her best efforts. “Y/N,” she replied, letting the name settle between them like a promise. “It’s Y/N.”

Minjeong’s smile widened, and she repeated it softly, as if committing it to memory. “Y/N,” she murmured, her voice filled with something that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. Minjeong took another step closer, her gaze still warm and intent, a hint of mischief sparking in her eyes now. “You know, I don’t usually get this nervous,” she admitted with a small, sheepish laugh, “but… I guess you’re kind of intimidating.”

Y/N chuckled, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Intimidating? Me? I think that’s a first.”

Minjeong laughed, nodding as she looked at the ground, then back up at Y/N. “Yeah, well, you’ve got this… this thing. This presence.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then let her hand drop, finding her confidence again. “And… you’re really beautiful,” she added softly, the words almost a whisper, but filled with a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t know what to say. She felt the warmth spreading in her chest, and all the teasing words she might have said disappeared, replaced by something softer, something real.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice softening, “you’re not too bad yourself, Minjeong.”

The way Minjeong’s face lit up made Y/N’s smile grow. It was like she was seeing every side of her all at once—the confident performer, the nervous girl, and something more vulnerable underneath it all. It was that mix that made Y/N want to keep talking, keep learning about her.

“So,” Minjeong ventured, shifting from foot to foot, but her gaze steady now, “would you… maybe want to grab a drink sometime? Or… I don’t know, talk about all the things I was too nervous to say on stage?”

Y/N grinned, crossing her arms with an amused look. “Are you sure you can handle talking to me without losing your cool?”

Minjeong laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “I can try. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a murmur, “something tells me you’re worth the effort.”

Y/N’s smile softened, and for a moment, she just looked at her, taking in the way Minjeong’s gaze never wavered, even if her cheeks were still a little pink. “Alright,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Minjeong’s face broke into the happiest, most relieved smile Y/N had ever seen.

Back inside, Minjeong and Y/N quickly found their way to Yunjin and Minji, who were laughing and chatting at the bar. Minjeong felt a little thrill when Y/N introduced her, and even more so when her own bandmates strolled out from backstage, the entire group merging into one.

Jimin leaned in with a smirk. “So, this is the girl who made our rockstar here forget her own chords?”

Minjeong flushed, shooting her bandmates a look that only made them laugh harder. But before she could sputter out a response, Yunjin piped up with a bright grin, “Why don’t we all head somewhere quieter? I know a bar nearby with a good vibe, and we can actually talk.”

The group agreed, and soon they were all spilling out onto the street, laughter echoing around them as they made their way down the road. Minjeong hung back with Y/N, a warm, comfortable silence falling between them before they started talking. It felt natural, easy, even as Minjeong's heart still raced from the kiss that lingered on her mind.

As they all headed down the street toward the quieter bar, Minjeong and Y/N fell into step just behind the group, comfortable in the hum of the night. Minjeong glanced over, her curiosity getting the best of her. “So… judging by your style, I’d guess you’re a fan of rock, too?”

Y/N grinned, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Is it that obvious? Yeah, guilty. I got into it pretty young. There’s just something about the raw energy, you know?”

“Totally,” Minjeong agreed, her excitement matching Y/N’s. “That’s why I wanted to start a band. The noise, the chaos—it’s addictive. Arctic Monkeys got me into it, actually,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “I was obsessed.”

“Are you serious?” Y/N’s eyes widened. “I’m a huge Arctic Monkeys fan! ‘AM’ was like… a soundtrack for my teenage rebellion,” she joked.

Minjeong’s eyes lit up. “Same! ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ is practically burned into my brain at this point. It’s why I even started learning guitar. I wanted to play riffs like that.”

Y/N laughed, her gaze softening. “I knew you had good taste.” She shook her head, looking away for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “There’s something about the way they capture that… I don’t know, that midnight, gritty feeling. It’s like you’re walking down an empty street with secrets.”

“Exactly!” Minjeong said, her face lighting up. “That’s what I love. It’s like they make you feel a whole mood, even without the lyrics. Just the sound.”

They continued talking about favorite songs and concert memories, swapping stories about late nights spent lost in the music. It felt easy, natural—like they were old friends reconnecting, not two people who’d just met. Their steps slowed, and soon they were trailing behind the others, wrapped in their own little world of laughter and shared nostalgia.

By the time they reached the bar, Minjeong felt more at ease than she had in ages. They ordered a round of drinks, everyone chatting animatedly in little clusters. Minjeong’s bandmates were quick to strike up conversations with Y/N’s friends, which left the two of them with the kind of stolen glances and low laughter that felt almost private in a room full of people.

Jimin, however, was still on a mission to tease her mercilessly. “So, Minjeong, think you’ll be writing a new song anytime soon?” she asked, her tone innocent but her grin anything but.

“Maybe a ballad,” Aeri added with a wink. “Or a love song for that ‘special someone.’”

Minjeong rolled her eyes, the teasing never-ending. “Maybe a metal anthem about having nosey friends,” she muttered, just loud enough to get a laugh from everyone.

Seeing her getting flustered, Y/N’s amused gaze softened. With a grin, Minjeong leaned close, asking, “Wanna get out of here? The dance floor’s calling.”

Y/N’s smile was immediate, and with a soft, “Lead the way, rockstar,” she took Minjeong’s hand. They wove through the crowd toward the dance floor, leaving the teasing glances of their friends behind.

They made their way to the dance floor, where the lights were dimmer, casting everyone in shades of deep red and blue. The music was slower, more sensual than the previous bar’s high-energy beats. As they started to move, Minjeong felt her nerves fall away, replaced by a growing confidence as she focused on Y/N, the rest of the room fading into the background.

They danced, letting the music guide them as they moved closer, their bodies almost touching. Minjeong felt her heart race as she gathered the courage to place her hands on Y/N’s hips, gently pulling her closer. Y/N didn’t resist; instead, she leaned into Minjeong, letting her hands rest on Minjeong’s shoulders, eyes glinting with amusement and something else Minjeong couldn’t quite place but wanted to drown in.

Feeling bolder, Minjeong spun Y/N around gently, her hands guiding her to dance even closer. Y/N tilted her head back to look at her, lips parted as she gazed up at Minjeong with an expression that sent a thrill through her. Time seemed to slow, the music fading into a heartbeat-like thrum in her ears.

They stood like that, breath mingling, eyes locked. Y/N’s gaze flicked down to Minjeong’s lips and back up, her own lips curving in the slightest hint of a smile, a silent invitation.

Not wanting to waste another second, Minjeong leaned down, closing the distance between them. Their lips met, soft at first, hesitant, and then deeper as the world around them disappeared completely. Y/N’s hands slid from Minjeong’s shoulders to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as she pulled her closer.

Minjeong felt another surge of confidence go through her, so she deepened the kiss. The heat rose in her cheeks as her tongue touched the other girl’s, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. They both pulled away for air with a small pop.

When they pulled back, Minjeong was breathless, a dazed smile spreading across her face. Y/N looked up at her with a similar expression, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath.

“Well,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the music, “that was… unexpected.”

Minjeong chuckled, her hands still resting on Y/N’s waist, reluctant to let go. “Good unexpected?” she asked, her voice soft.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile, and she nodded, eyes glinting. “Very good.”

“How about we get out of here?” Minjeong’s voice dropped an octave. Y/N bit her lips and nodded.

Minjeong and Y/N found themselves leaving the bar with the excuse of “fresh air.” The street was quiet, the city lights casting a soft glow as they walked side by side, shoulders brushing with each step. They hardly spoke now; there was an unspoken understanding that grew with every step that led them further into the night.

When they arrived at Minjeong’s apartment, Y/N felt her pulse quicken. The two entered quietly, as if unwilling to disturb the intimate quiet between them. Minjeong led her inside, their fingers brushing lightly, and it felt like a silent invitation. Y/N followed, her eyes tracing the faint outline of Minjeong’s figure in the dim apartment light, each detail accentuated by the calm atmosphere.

In the small, cozy bedroom, they turned to face each other. Minjeong found herself reaching out, her hand gentle as it grazed Y/N’s cheek. There was no need for words; the look in Y/N’s eyes was enough, a mixture of anticipation and something deeper. Slowly, their lips met, softer and slower than before, savoring each lingering touch and deepening the kiss as the seconds passed. It felt like an unraveling—each kiss exploring, tentative, and then firmer.

Their hands began to roam with more confidence. Y/N felt Minjeong’s fingers drift down her back, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. The taller helped Y/N strip off her clothes, being gentle and savoring the moment, until she was only in her underwear. Minjeong looked at Y/N and her breath hitched.

“You look beautiful.” She murmured, making the shorter blush.

“I bet you’d look just as good if you had less clothes on.” Y/N teased. Minjeong stripped off as well in a hurry, almost stumbling as she shook off her pants, making Y/N laugh. Once they were both only in their garments, Minjeong pushed the other lightly onto the bed, before she got on top of her.

Minjeong looked at Y/N’s eyes, both had excitement displayed on them. Leaning down, she captured Y/N lips once again in a passionate kiss. Their tongues grazed against each other, Minjeong’s hand caressing the other’s waist and hips, while Y/N was tangling her hands in her hair.

Minjeong pulled away, earning a whine from Y/N. She let out a soft chuckle, while her hand went up to Y/N bra on her back. She looked at Y/N for confirmation, who only arched her back so that Minjeong could unfasten it. Minjeong struggled a bit, but managed to do it, tossing it to the side, she dipped her head, taking one of Y/N nipples into her mouth, while her hand groped her other boob, her fingers pinching and twisting her nipple. Y/N let out a loud moan, arching her back in appreciation. Her hands went to Minjeong’s back, unfastening the other’s bra, tossing it next to hers in the floor. Her nails left red, angry marks on Minjeong’s well defined back.

“Fuck.” Minjeong muttered, switching to the other breast.

“God, Minjeong. So good.” Y/N panted. Minjeong started to kiss downwards, leaving opened mouth kisses on Y/N stomach. Looking up, she asked for permission with her eyes. Y/N nodded her head.

Using her teeth, she took a hold of Y/N panties and slithered them down her legs. She went up again and kissed the shorter. This kiss was more sloppy, desperate, hands touching whatever part of skin they could reach. Y/N used her hands to slip off Minjeong’s final piece of underwear. The taller suddenly pulled up. Her lips were a bit swollen, and her pupils were dilated.

“Give me a second.” She pecked Y/N lips and stood up. Y/N looked at her leaving figure confused, but waited patiently. While Minjeong was away, she decided to look around the bedroom.

The walls were painted a muted shade of deep blue, making the room feel calm and peaceful, with a few framed black-and-white photographs of bands, abstract art, and scenic landscapes hanging in casual arrangement. There were no flashy decorations, but the minimalistic vibe allowed her personality to shine through in the details. A large window stretched along one side of the room, its sheer curtains slightly drawn, letting in the soft glow of the city lights that filtered through the night. The view was modest but serene.

Minjeong came back, she had a 7 inch black strapon fasted around her hips. Y/N breath hitched.

Holy fuck

Minjeong went on top of Y/N again.

“This is ok with you, right?” Minjeong asked, her hand caressing Y/N’s cheek. Y/N nodded, unable to let out any words.

Grabbing the base of the strap, Minjeong rubbed the tip on the slit a few times, using the wetness as a natural lube, she then pushed inside, inch by inch. Y/N gasped as she reached out to hold Minjeong, her nails once again scratching the taller’s back. She let out a pornographic moan, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Shit.” Minjeong groaned, feeling the blunt part of the strap hit against her clit. “You’re so tight, even with how wet you are.”

Y/N nodded, shutting her eyes, which were watery from the pleasure. “Just for you.”

Minjeong started thrusting slowly, wanting Y/N to get used to it. But once the shorter told her to speed up, she did. Her thrust were fast, but she got to a pace where she could hit Y/N spongy spot each time. The moans from the shorter were driving her crazy, she had found her new favorite sound. The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping against each other, Y/N’s moans and Minjeong’s groans of pleasure. The bed was creaking, the post hitting against the wall every time the taller thrusted forward. It smelled of sweat, sex, and perfume; and it was almost mouthwatering for the both of them.

Minjeong grabbed Y/N softly by the neck. “Look at me.” She panted.

The shorter opened her eyes, making eye contact with the other. “I’m coming.” She whined, her hands reaching out to grab Minjeong’s forearms, which were quite strong for her pretty petite form.

“Wait.” The taller groaned. “I want you to come with me.” Y/N nodded, struggling to keep her eyes open. “I’m so close, almost there baby.”

Y/N moaned, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Minjeong was fucking her so good, she felt on cloud 9. “Minjeong. Minjeong, please let me come.” She begged. Drops of sweat were dripping down her.

“Come. Come with me, baby.” The nickname was enough for Y/N to release. She screamed Minjeong’s name, seeing black for a few seconds. Minjeong was just behind her, groaning as she came too. She didn’t stop thrusting, wanting both of them to ride out their orgasm. “Stop. Too sensitive.” Y/N whimpered, making the taller stall her thrust.

Slowly, she pulled out, making both of them moan. Minjeong at the sight of a string of Y/N’s cum connected to the strap, and the shorter one because of the feeling. Minjeong reached down her two middle fingers, rubbing Y/N’s slit and gathering her cum, Y/N shuddered because of overstimulation.

Looking at the shorter in her eyes, Minjeong wrapped her lips around the fingers full of Y/N’s slick, moaning at the taste. Y/N whined at the sight, another shot of cum came out of her, making Minjeong let out a small chuckle. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against Y/N. “How do you feel?”

“Like I went to heaven.” Y/N murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. She cranked her neck up a bit, capturing Minjeong’s lips with her own.The kiss was short, but sweet.

“Give me a second.” Minjeong pulled away and stood up. She walked to the bathroom, only to come out a few minutes later with a warm towel, the strap long gone. She wiped Y/N’s slick with the towel. “There.” She kissed her thighs. “All better.”

“Thanks.” Y/N yawned, feeling the adrenaline go down. With a kiss on the forehead, Minjeong draped the sheets over Y/N’s body and went to put the towel with the dirty clothes. Once she came back, a glass of water in hands for Y/N, she saw the shorter asleep, soft breath coming out in a rhythmic pattern.

With a smile, Minjeong put the glass on top of the bedside table, and laid down next to Y/N, hugging her in a spooning position. “Good night.” She whispered, kissing her head.

Minjeong’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. A small weight on her chest made her look down, and she felt a warm sense of contentment as she saw Y/N still peacefully asleep on top of her, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The memories of the night before played softly in her mind, and Minjeong couldn’t help but smile, feeling the flutter of excitement as she replayed each moment.

As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed, glancing back one last time to make sure Y/N was still asleep. Her gaze softened as she took in the calm, almost dreamlike scene, the sheets tangled gently around Y/N’s figure. Minjeong tiptoed to the door, an idea forming. She’d make breakfast—a small thank-you for the unforgettable night. It was a romantic idea, though she was slightly aware of her less-than-stellar kitchen skills. Still, how hard could eggs and toast be?

In the kitchen, Minjeong looked around for ingredients, picking up a carton of eggs, bread, and a small handful of strawberries she found in the fridge. She fumbled with the egg carton, trying to crack one egg carefully, but her inexperience showed as half the yolk splattered onto the counter. With a sigh, she attempted to salvage the rest, pouring the little that remained into a bowl and giving it an optimistic whisk.

“Alright, toast… easy,” she muttered, sliding a couple of slices into the toaster. But in her focus on the eggs, she quickly forgot about the toast, not noticing until the faint scent of burning bread hit her nose. “Oh no!” she whispered, pulling it out a second too late. She sighed, shaking her head, but before she could attempt another slice, she felt two warm arms wrap around her waist.

“Good morning,” Y/N mumbled sleepily into her shoulder, her face pressed against Minjeong’s back. “What’s going on in here?”

Startled, the taller yelped, the spatula slipping from her hand as she accidentally touched the edge of the hot pan. A small hiss escaped her lips as she recoiled, cradling her finger.

Y/N’s groggy concern immediately turned to worry. “Oh, Minjeong! Are you okay?” She turned her gently, reaching for her hand and inspecting the small burn with a soft frown. Y/N’s fingertips were gentle as they grazed the spot, her eyes filled with care.

Minjeong chuckled, feeling a little sheepish. “I’m fine. I just… well, I thought I’d make you breakfast.” She gestured to the burnt toast and slightly undercooked eggs. “Clearly, it’s going… fantastically.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her smile warm as she grabbed a washcloth, running it under cool water before gently pressing it to Minjeong’s fingers. “I appreciate the effort, but maybe I should take over before you accidentally set my kitchen on fire.”

Minjeong laughed, feeling a rush of warmth as Y/N continued to dab her hand with the cloth. “Good idea. My cooking skills are... a work in progress.”

Once the small burn was tended to, they moved back to the stove. Y/N gave Minjeong a playful nudge. “Here, watch and learn, rockstar,” she teased, sliding a fresh piece of bread into the toaster and cracking a couple of eggs into a bowl. She whisked them with a practiced ease that made Minjeong feel both impressed and slightly jealous.

Minjeong leaned against the counter, watching as Y/N took over with a calm confidence, every movement precise and efficient. They made small talk, Y/N occasionally handing her tasks she was certain Minjeong could manage, like slicing strawberries or sprinkling a pinch of salt over the eggs.

“So,” Y/N said, flipping a piece of toast with a grin, “do you have a favorite animal? Something I should know about you?”

Minjeong smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Dogs, definitely. They’re loyal, energetic, and you know, they just… get me. Plus, they’re adorable.”

“Ah, dogs are cute, but…” Y/N said, pausing for dramatic effect, “capybaras are obviously superior. They’re the most laid-back animals, super friendly. They get along with literally everyone. Have you seen a capybara with an enemy? Because I haven’t.”

Minjeong laughed, crossing her arms in playful defiance. “Okay, they’re cute, but come on—dogs have the whole ‘man’s best friend’ thing going on. They’ll stick by you through anything. And capybaras… can they fetch? Can they protect you from anything scarier than a blade of grass?”

Y/N laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe they can’t fetch, but they’ve got a whole ‘zen’ vibe going on. They’re the ultimate chill friend. Imagine just lounging around with a capybara, no stress, just good vibes.”

Minjeong put on a thoughtful expression, clearly playing along. “Hmm, I don’t know… I still think dogs win. They have that cute tail-wagging thing going for them, you know?”

Y/N shook her head, grinning. “Capybaras have their own charm. And they’re practically zen masters. How can you compete with that level of calm?”

“Fine,” Minjeong said with a smirk, “I’ll concede they’re cool. But dogs will always be number one in my heart.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing as she placed their finished breakfast on the table. “You’re biased, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

They sat down together, the lighthearted conversation flowing as they shared bites of eggs and strawberries, laughing between sips of coffee. The breakfast wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect in its simplicity—an unhurried morning in each other’s company, surrounded by the warm, cozy quiet of Y/N’s apartment. They debated everything from favorite movies to worst concert experiences, sharing stories that filled the space with easy laughter and growing familiarity.

After a while, Minjeong glanced up, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes filled with warmth. “For, you know, helping me avoid another cooking disaster.”

Y/N grinned, reaching across the table to give Minjeong’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, rockstar. And for the record, I think you make a pretty great breakfast companion.”

They sat there, their hands resting together on the table, the laughter slowly fading into a comfortable silence as they simply enjoyed the moment.

As the week unfolded, Y/N found herself spending more time with Minjeong than she had anticipated. It was as if they’d fallen into an unspoken rhythm: stolen moments after work, late-night drives, casual dinners where laughter spilled over plates of food, and quiet, cozy mornings. They were comfortable together, moving with an ease that made Y/N feel like they’d known each other for longer than just a few weeks.

So when Minjeong had invited her to another one of the band’s shows that weekend, Y/N had felt both excitement and a small pang of uncertainty. They hadn’t talked about what they were, or even if there was a “what” to define. Minjeong was still this untouchable, slightly mysterious rockstar to Y/N, someone who lived in a world she didn’t quite understand yet. But when she was with Minjeong, all that fell away, and she felt like she was simply with… Minjeong. Her Minjeong.

Now, it was Saturday night, and Y/N was back in her studio apartment, prepping with her friends Yunjin and Minji. The small space was alive with laughter and conversation as the girls sat cross-legged on Y/N’s bed, surrounded by a scattered pile of clothes, shoes, and beauty products.

“So,” Yunjin said with a knowing look, pausing as she put on her earrings, “are you ready to see your ‘mystery girlfriend’ perform again tonight?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. “You guys are too much. And I don’t even know if she’s my girlfriend…”

Minji tilted her head, giving her a skeptical look. “Y/N, please. You’ve practically been joined at the hip all week. If that’s not girlfriend material, I don’t know what is.”

Y/N looked down, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her anxiety. “I just… I don’t know. I mean, we haven’t had any kind of talk about it, you know? We’re acting like a couple, but she hasn’t really said what she wants, and I don’t want to push it if it’s not… that serious.”

Yunjin shook her head, putting a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Look, I don’t know Minjeong like you do, but from everything you’ve told us… She’s definitely into you. And, girl, if anyone’s lucky to be with someone, it’s her with you. But you’ll never really know until you ask, right?”

Minji nodded, leaning back against Y/N’s headboard. “Yeah, Y/N. You’re not asking for too much if you want a little clarity. It’s only fair. And look, you’re already putting yourself out there by going to her show tonight. Just enjoy it, and if you’re still feeling unsure, talk to her after.”

Y/N looked between her friends, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thanks, guys. You’re right… I guess I just have to ask when the time’s right.”

“And in the meantime,” Yunjin said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she rummaged through Y/N’s wardrobe, “we’re going to make sure you look so good that Minjeong won’t be able to look anywhere else.”

With a shared laugh, they dove into picking out an outfit, discarding options with a mix of critiques and approving nods. After trying on a few combinations, they finally settled on a black mini dress that hugged Y/N’s curves in all the right ways. She paired it with a cropped leather jacket and heeled ankle boots that gave her just enough height and an extra edge. Yunjin added the finishing touches with smoky eye makeup, making her dark eyes stand out, while Minji worked on her hair, giving it loose, tousled waves that framed her face.

“Perfect,” Yunjin declared, admiring their handiwork with a satisfied smile. “There’s no way Minjeong’s eyes are straying from you tonight.”

Y/N felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she looked in the mirror. The outfit and makeup were a little bolder than her usual look, but she loved it. There was a quiet confidence that seemed to settle over her, like she could step into this role with all the daring it demanded. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

As they left the apartment, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. They chatted and laughed as they made their way to the bar, their voices blending into the soft sounds of the city around them. When they finally arrived, they joined the steady stream of people entering the venue, Y/N’s anticipation growing with each step.

The bar was packed with people milling about, drinks in hand as they waited for the show to start. Y/N’s eyes immediately scanned the stage, where she spotted Minjeong and her bandmates tuning their instruments and chatting among themselves. Minjeong looked effortlessly cool, her dark hair falling over her eyes as she focused on her guitar, fingers moving deftly over the strings. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her lips curling into a small smile as she watched.

“Oh, she’s definitely noticed you,” Yunjin whispered, nudging Y/N with a grin as Minjeong’s eyes finally found her in the crowd. The look that passed between them was soft but charged, as if there was an unspoken understanding, a secret language they’d begun to share.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered, her lips curving into a barely-there smile before she turned back to her guitar, finishing up her pre-show preparations. Y/N felt a flutter of excitement, her friends giggling beside her as they settled into a spot near the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the band took their places, Y/N felt the pulse of anticipation building around her. The music started with a slow, captivating rhythm, the opening notes vibrating through the room, and Y/N felt her entire body respond to the sound. The crowd cheered, and Y/N joined in, her eyes locked on Minjeong as she played, her focus on the music but with occasional glances in Y/N’s direction.

The band finished their set to roaring applause, and Y/N clapped along with everyone else, though her heart was beating with a different kind of anticipation. The question that had been lingering all week—the one that haunted her whenever she was alone—was finally too heavy to ignore. Tonight, she was going to find out exactly what Minjeong wanted, no matter the answer.

As the crowd began to disperse and people headed to the bar, Y/N turned to her friends, her hands fidgeting slightly. “I think I’m going to go backstage, you know, to talk to her.”

Yunjin and Minji exchanged knowing glances before giving her reassuring smiles.

“Go for it,” Yunjin said, squeezing her arm. “We’ll be right here if you need us. You got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath as she maneuvered her way through the crowded room toward the backstage area. Her heart was pounding with each step, the noise from the bar fading into a soft hum as she neared the back of the venue. Finally, she slipped behind the door marked “Staff Only,” her resolve growing with every stride. This was it. She was going to get the answers she needed.

But as she turned the corner, her steps slowed. Her heart sank at the sight before her: Minjeong was leaning against the wall, laughing softly with another girl. Y/N couldn’t remember ever seeing her before, but she was gorgeous, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, and she had an easy, confident way of standing close to Minjeong that sent a strange chill through Y/N.

The girl’s hand was on Minjeong’s arm, her touch lingering a little too long, her body angled in a way that felt… intimate. Minjeong wasn’t exactly pulling away, either, and Y/N felt a painful twist in her chest. She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath as she willed herself to stay calm.

She was just about to step forward, determined to break up whatever was happening, when the girl leaned in and kissed Minjeong. It was brief, but enough—a soft, easy brush of lips that somehow felt like a punch to Y/N’s gut. Her chest tightened, her breaths shallow as the betrayal hit her full force. She hadn’t realized she was gripping her purse so tightly until her knuckles turned white.

A small gasp escaped her before she could stop it, and in that instant, Minjeong broke the kiss, her eyes flickering up. Her gaze locked with Y/N’s, her face shifting from surprise to something that looked a lot like panic.

The realization of what she’d seen—the kiss, the closeness—felt like it echoed through every part of Y/N. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stand there, her heart breaking right in front of Minjeong, watching that guilt and regret take over her face.

Before Minjeong could say anything, Y/N turned on her heel, forcing herself to move, each step heavier than the last. She pushed past the door and back into the crowded bar, the lights blurring slightly as she blinked against the sting of tears. She caught sight of Yunjin and Minji by the bar, their smiles fading the moment they saw her face.

"Y/N, hey, what happened?" Minji’s voice was gentle, her hand reaching out to steady Y/N.

The words caught in her throat, and she forced out a bitter, trembling laugh. "Nothing, just… Minjeong kissing another girl," she managed, the words tasting sour. Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t bear the pitying look on her friends’ faces. She didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to relive that moment any more than she already was.

Her heart was racing as she pushed through the crowded bar toward the exit, desperate to be anywhere else. The cool air hit her face, grounding her slightly as she stepped onto the street. The sounds of the city buzzed around her, but it felt muffled, distant. All she could focus on was the ache in her chest, the betrayal that left her feeling hollow.

A cab slowed to a stop, and she climbed in, pulling the door shut behind her as though she could shut out everything she’d just seen. She was about to give the driver her address, but a familiar voice broke through the noise, catching her attention.

"Y/N!" Minjeong’s voice was urgent, laced with desperation, and it made Y/N’s heart ache even more. She turned her head, barely able to see Minjeong through the fogged-up window, but there she was, pushing through the crowd, her expression frantic, her eyes wide.

“Please, Y/N, just… let me explain,” Minjeong’s voice cracked, her hand pressed against the glass, her eyes searching for a sign that Y/N would stay.

Y/N swallowed, fighting the urge to listen, to believe whatever Minjeong would say. Part of her wanted to throw open the door, to demand answers, to let Minjeong explain everything away. But a stronger part of her, the part that felt the sting of betrayal and the bitterness of uncertainty, couldn’t bring herself to stay. She needed space, needed to figure out if any of this had been real at all.

“Please, drive,” she whispered to the cab driver, her voice barely audible.

As the car began to pull away, she looked back one last time, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s through the glass. The raw pain in Minjeong’s expression made Y/N’s heart twist painfully, but she forced herself to look away, gripping her purse tightly as the city lights blurred into streaks around her.

The ride home felt longer than usual, filled with too many thoughts, too many questions she didn’t want to ask. She rested her head against the cool window, letting the city pass by as she tried to hold herself together.

When she finally reached her apartment, she walked in on autopilot, her mind replaying the kiss, the look on Minjeong’s face, the panic in her voice. She sank onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, numbness washing over her. The memory of Minjeong’s laughter, the way her hand had fit perfectly in Y/N’s own, now felt painfully out of reach.

A part of her couldn’t believe it—that Minjeong, the girl who’d looked at her with such warmth, had let someone else kiss her. All those moments, all those glances, had they meant nothing?

She wanted to believe there was more to it, that maybe there was some explanation that could make it all make sense. But the image of Minjeong with that girl was seared into her mind, an unwelcome reminder that maybe she’d been naive to think she could have something real with someone who lived a life so different from her own.

Minjeong’s mind was racing as she followed her bandmates backstage, her excitement barely contained. She couldn’t wait to see Y/N’s face, to celebrate after another successful show and maybe—if she was lucky—steal a few more minutes alone with her. She smiled to herself, already anticipating Y/N’s laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when they talked about music.

As she was about to slip away to find her, a familiar voice called her name, and she turned to see Yeji, an old friend from way back. They’d always kept in touch, catching up whenever they crossed paths in the same city. Minjeong smiled, and they started talking, catching up on everything and reminiscing about old times. Minjeong tried to keep the conversation brief—her heart was practically pulling her toward Y/N—but Yeji was relentless, asking questions, laughing, holding her back just a bit longer.

Suddenly, without any warning, Yeji leaned in, her hands resting lightly on Minjeong’s shoulders as she pressed her lips softly against Minjeong’s. Minjeong froze, too stunned to move, her mind blank for a few seconds. The warmth and weight of Yeji’s lips jolted her, and she felt her pulse quicken—not out of excitement, but panic. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to give Yeji the wrong impression. She was about to pull back when a sharp, familiar sound—a gasp—pierced through her daze.

Her gaze shifted, and she saw her: Y/N standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, her face stricken, and in that single moment, Minjeong’s heart plummeted.

“Y/N—” she choked out, pushing Yeji away and taking a shaky step toward her, but Y/N was already turning, her face unreadable as she disappeared through the door.

She tried to follow, but Yeji caught her arm, her grip firm. “Minjeong, wait,” Yeji said softly, her expression shifting to something almost pleading. “I’ve had a crush on you for ages. I didn’t know you’d met someone.”

Minjeong took a breath, a pang of guilt and frustration flaring within her. This was the last thing she wanted. “Yeji, I’m sorry… I didn’t know. But I can’t… I don’t feel that way about you. I’m really sorry.” She gently pulled her arm free, her thoughts racing back to Y/N.

Ignoring Yeji’s disappointed look, she darted out, her heart pounding as she scanned the crowd for any sign of Y/N. Her chest tightened as she finally spotted her outside, getting into a cab. She ran, nearly tripping in her rush to reach her.

“Y/N!” she called out, the desperation in her voice startling even herself. She reached the cab just as Y/N closed the door, her eyes filled with pain, her cheeks streaked with tears. Minjeong pressed her hand to the window, her voice cracking as she begged, “Please, Y/N, just let me explain.”

But before she could say another word, the cab pulled away, and she watched helplessly as it disappeared down the street. She stood there, feeling a cold weight settle over her as the reality of what had just happened hit her. She’d lost her chance to explain, to tell Y/N that she hadn’t wanted that kiss, that it had meant nothing.

She stood there, feeling the emptiness stretch, gnawing at her heart, until she heard voices approaching—her bandmates and Y/N’s friends. Yunjin’s sharp gaze fell on her first, her voice laced with anger.

“Minjeong, what the hell were you thinking?” she snapped, her frustration clear.

“Did you seriously kiss someone else?” Minji’s voice was incredulous, laced with anger.

Minjeong shook her head quickly, her voice urgent. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t kiss her. She just… she kissed me, and I was in shock, and Y/N saw right before I could stop it.” She ran a hand through her hair, her frustration clear. “I tried to go after her, but Yeji held me back. I swear, I didn’t want it. I just… I just want to explain that to Y/N.”

Her bandmates and Y/N’s friends exchanged looks, the anger slowly fading from their expressions.

Minji sighed, crossing her arms. “Well, if that’s true, then you need to tell her. She’s probably at her apartment now. You need to fix this, Minjeong, because she looked heartbroken.”

Minjeong nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I know. And I’ll fix it. I’ll make her understand.”

Without another word, her bandmates gestured for her to follow them to their car. They drove in tense silence, the weight of what she had to do pressing down on her, each second feeling heavier than the last. Her mind raced with thoughts of Y/N—was she still upset? Did she still care? Minjeong’s chest tightened with guilt, and she couldn’t stop replaying the image of Y/N’s tear-streaked face in the taxi.

The drive seemed to stretch on forever, but eventually, they reached Y/N’s building. The bandmates offered a few reassuring words as they stopped outside, and Minjeong gave them a tight smile. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll be okay.”

“Good luck,” Jimin added. “And remember, just be honest.”

Minjeong nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the car. The sound of the door shutting behind her felt final, but she couldn’t back down now. She had to fix this, whatever it took.

She made her way up to Y/N’s floor, each step heavy with the weight of what had happened. When she reached Y/N’s door, she hesitated for just a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She raised her hand to knock, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

After what felt like an eternity, the door slowly opened, and there she was—Y/N, her eyes red and puffy, her face a mixture of anger, pain, and confusion. Minjeong’s heart shattered at the sight. Y/N looked… so distant, like a part of her had already started pulling away. Minjeong’s throat tightened, and she could barely whisper, “Hey.”

The word came out almost like a question, the same way it had the first time they’d met.

Minjeong lingered uncertainly in the entryway of Y/N’s apartment, every nerve ending buzzing with tension. She was here—finally here—but now that she was, she wasn’t sure where to begin. Y/N’s gaze was unreadable as she opened the door wider, the redness around her eyes still visible, stepping aside to let her in. Minjeong offered a tentative, grateful smile and slipped inside, her heart pounding, her hands slightly trembling as she followed Y/N to the couch. They sat down, a slight distance between them, and the silence that stretched between them was almost unbearable.

Minutes ticked by, the weight of the unspoken words growing heavier with each second. Minjeong swallowed, trying to summon the words she’d rehearsed on the drive here, but everything seemed to vanish. She could only manage short glances at Y/N, who sat beside her with her arms crossed, her expression still guarded.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice quiet and tense. “If you have nothing to say, Minjeong, maybe you should go.”

The words hit Minjeong hard, spurring her out of her frozen state. She couldn’t leave it like this; she couldn’t lose Y/N. “Wait, Y/N—please, it’s not like that.” She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. “Please, let me explain what happened.”

Y/N didn’t respond, but she didn’t get up to leave either, and that was enough for Minjeong to press on. She took a deep breath, letting her words flow in a careful, deliberate way. She explained every detail—who Yeji was, how she had shown up backstage after the show, how they’d been talking and catching up, and how Yeji had leaned in to kiss her, leaving her frozen in shock until she’d heard Y/N’s gasp.

“I was so confused, and then I saw you there, watching, and everything hit me at once.” Minjeong’s voice cracked slightly, and she looked down, her fingers fidgeting nervously. “I should have pushed her away sooner. I should have known better. I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t know how badly I wish I’d done something different. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

For a long, silent moment, Minjeong could only stare down at her hands. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, waiting for Y/N’s response, but the longer the silence stretched, the more she worried she’d ruined everything. She was ready to give up and leave, then she heard a soft sniffle.

She looked up, her breath hitching at the sight of tears welling up in Y/N’s eyes. Guilt stabbed her all over again, and she scrambled for words, her hands reaching out as if they could erase the hurt she’d caused. “Oh god, Y/N… I’m so stupid for coming here. I shouldn’t have—”

“Minjeong,” Y/N interrupted, her hand reaching to cover Minjeong’s restless fingers. Her voice was soft, though still a little shaky. “It’s fine. I should apologize as well… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that without letting you explain.”

Minjeong shook her head, trying to keep herself from tearing up. “No, Y/N, it’s… it’s my fault. I don’t blame you for leaving. I should’ve—”

“No,” Y/N said more firmly, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I mean it. I’m the one who didn’t communicate. I was so scared. We had such an amazing week and I had never felt more alive, but I didn’t know where the thing we had going on stood. I kept thinking if we were dating, or perhaps we were friends with benefits, maybe I saw just a fling. It’s just, I kept imagining things, that maybe I was the only one feeling like this.”

Hearing this, Minjeong’s heart squeezed painfully. She looked into Y/N’s eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and she finally felt a surge of courage. “Y/N… no. I admit, I didn’t know where we stood either,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But what I do is that you were never going to be a fling, or friends with benefits. I know exactly what I want us to be. I want… I want to be with you. For real. No misunderstandings. No more second-guessing.”

For a moment, they only stared at each other, a world of unspoken feelings hanging between them. Minjeong’s heart thudded as she searched Y/N’s face, praying she hadn’t completely blown her chance. Every nerve in her body was on edge, waiting for Y/N’s response.

Finally, she blurted out, breaking the silence with a surge of nervous boldness, “Do you… do you want to go on an actual date with me? Like, an official one. No ambiguity. Just us, out on a real date.”

A laugh bubbled out of Y/N’s lips, soft and warm, melting away the last traces of tension. Minjeong’s heart leaped at the sound, her nerves easing as Y/N leaned in close, her eyes softening as she brushed a gentle kiss across Minjeong’s lips. The kiss was passionate, you could tell they put their emotions into it.

“Of course, Rockstar,” Y/N whispered against her lips, her voice playful but full of warmth. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

They stayed close for a moment, their foreheads pressed together, smiling softly. Y/N felt a wave of relief, joy, and contentment washing over her. She finally felt steady, knowing exactly where she stood—and that they both wanted the same thing.

As they pulled back slightly, Y/N’s smile turned into a smirk. “Now, about that date… Better be the best one I’ve ever had.”

Minjeong grinned, her fingers lacing through Y/N’s as she lifted her palm up to the mouth, pressing her lips against it softly. “Don’t worry. You can count on it.”

The anticipation was electric as Y/N and her friends, first in line, waited outside the small, buzzing venue where Minjeong’s band was playing that night. Minjeong had been hinting at a “surprise” for days, and now Y/N could barely contain her excitement—or her nerves. It had been months since they’d started dating, each moment with Minjeong a blend of excitement and sweetness, wrapped up in laughter and stolen kisses. Tonight, though, felt different. There was something in the way Minjeong had looked at her earlier, a glint of mystery that sent Y/N’s mind spinning with curiosity.

Inside, the dim lights and pulsing bass amplified the thrill as Y/N’s group found a spot close to the stage. The energy in the bar was buzzing, everyone hyped up for another of the band’s electrifying performances. But Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off Minjeong, who was tuning her guitar, fingers moving with an effortless grace Y/N had grown to love. Even from a distance, she could see Minjeong’s usual confidence mixed with a touch of nerves—unusual for her rockstar girlfriend, and it only heightened the suspense.

The band launched into their set, and Y/N was mesmerized. Minjeong was magnetic, every note and strum pulling Y/N closer. Minjeong’s voice filled the bar, warm and rich, pouring emotion into each song. Y/N knew this band so well by now—the rhythms and riffs, the way Minjeong’s bandmates complemented her, each song a testament to how well they all fit together. Her friends were cheering, caught up in the music, but Y/N could only focus on Minjeong, who kept sneaking glances her way, eyes flickering with something unsaid.

As the band neared the end of their set, Minjeong glanced back at her bandmates, who each nodded with knowing smiles. She took a deep breath, stepping up to the microphone. Her voice was a little shaky, but her gaze was steady, locked on Y/N.

“So, uh, before we finish tonight… I wanted to share something special with you all,” she began, and there was a hush as the crowd quieted, leaning in to listen. “A few months ago I had no inspiration. I couldn’t write anything, and then I met my muse. Writing this song was like drinking water, or breathing air. That easy. This is for someone who means everything to me. She’s my inspiration… my best friend… the person who makes everything else just fade away.” Minjeong’s cheeks pinked a little under the lights, and Y/N felt her own face warm, her heart pounding.

“I wrote this song for the love of my life. It’s called No.1 Party Anthem.”

As the first chords filled the room, Minjeong’s voice softened, pouring out with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. The lyrics felt like a confession, each line weighted with meaning that reached out to her across the crowd. Y/N’s heart swelled with each word, and as the song progressed, Minjeong’s gaze never wavered—she sang to Y/N and Y/N alone, the entire bar falling away until it felt like just the two of them in a quiet, intimate moment.

Y/N’s friends glanced over with smiles, nudging each other knowingly as they watched her try to hold back tears. The raw honesty in Minjeong’s voice filled the room, carrying emotions that had only deepened over the months. Each word told a story, and Y/N could see herself reflected in the lyrics—the late-night laughter, the whispered confessions, the stolen moments that had come to mean everything.

The look of love, the rush of blood

The, 'She's-with-me's, the Gallic shrug

Y/N felt it then: the dizzying sensation of being seen and adored so purely. Her pulse quickened, and she could almost feel the warmth of Minjeong’s hands even from this distance. It was like the world had faded to black and white, the two of them in their own silent film, yet vibrant with color and meaning only they could see.

The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus The black and white and the color dodge

It was a feeling she hadn’t known before, the security of having Minjeong’s affections worn so openly in her words, in her melody, in every single note. Y/N knew then what her friends had always teased her about—that Minjeong would have eyes for no one else, that she belonged here, in this moment, by Minjeong’s side.

The good time girls, the cubicles

The house of fun

As the bridge filled the room, Minjeong’s voice grew stronger, emboldened, and Y/N couldn’t stop the rush of emotions. The energy was intense, so raw and unfiltered, like being caught up in a whirlwind that spun just for the two of them. It was exhilarating, dizzying, grounding—and yet, she felt like she could float away at any moment, lifted up by Minjeong’s words and the crowd’s rapt attention.

The weight of their love, the certainty of it, settled over her. Everything was crystallizing; all their shared laughter, late nights, and whispered secrets between songs. Minjeong wasn’t just singing for a crowd—she was singing for Y/N, for their memories, for their future.

The number one

Party anthem

The song was reaching its end, and Minjeong’s eyes softened as she held the final note, her expression open and vulnerable. Y/N’s heart felt like it was on fire. She hadn’t realized it until now, but this was exactly what she had needed: this quiet, beautiful assurance of how much she meant to Minjeong.

As the song faded, the room erupted in applause, but Minjeong’s gaze stayed locked on her, a private smile on her lips. Y/N could feel her own smile breaking free as tears blurred her vision, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. It was as if Minjeong had taken her heart and woven it into the song, showing Y/N that every note was a promise, every word a reassurance of what they had.

As the applause subsided, Minjeong slipped off the stage, making her way through the crowd toward Y/N. Her friends cheered her on as she moved closer, and Y/N’s heart raced as she finally stood face-to-face with Minjeong, who looked at her with a nervous, hopeful smile.

“Hey, rockstar,” Y/N whispered, unable to contain her grin.

Minjeong chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So… what did you think?” she asked, a little shyly, her gaze unwavering.

Y/N’s voice was thick with emotion. “That was… perfect. I loved it.”

Minjeong’s eyes softened, and without a word, she pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her close. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, while the rest of the world buzzed around them. It was a quiet moment in the middle of the chaos, a moment just for them.

Y/N looked up, meeting Minjeong’s eyes. “I guess that makes me your No.1?”

Minjeong laughed, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “You always were.”

a/n: this is in my top 3 song from AM, so i thought it deserved a fanfic.

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m4rv3l-girl · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do a request based off this song

https://youtu.be/8ofCZObsnOo?si=yGD6SMOL25REbasf

Like it's bucky pov about finding the reader hiding a serious injury after a mission and passing out in the bathroom with the door locked

I need major angst then super fluffy Ending🙏

Hold On

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Mentions of violence. Blood. Super fluffy ending. 😉

The quinjet’s hum was steady, almost comforting, as Bucky slumped into the seat across from Y/N. His eyes were drawn to her like a magnet. She sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring blankly at the wall as if lost in thought. Normally, she’d be cracking jokes with Sam or recounting some detail of the mission. Tonight, though, she was silent.

Bucky frowned.

“You okay, Doll?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N blinked, startled by his voice. For a second, her expression softened, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Bucky’s frown deepened. He studied her face—the way her skin seemed paler than usual, the tightness around her eyes. His gaze dropped to her hands, noticing how her fingers twitched slightly, almost like she was fighting to keep them steady.

“You sure?” he pressed. “You don’t look—”

“I said I’m fine, Bucky.” Her tone wasn’t sharp, but it was firm enough to make him pause.

Bucky leaned back, his jaw tightening as he nodded. “Alright. If you say so.”

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence.

By the time the quinjet touched down, Y/N was the first to unbuckle and make a beeline for the exit. Bucky followed, watching her retreating figure with growing unease.

She was limping—subtle, but there. His enhanced senses caught the slight drag of her right foot, the tension in her posture as though she was bracing against pain.

Still, she didn’t say a word.

“Y/N, wait up,” he called, his long strides easily catching up with her.

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “I just need a shower and some sleep, Buck. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The words felt final, a wall thrown up between them. Before he could argue, she slipped inside her room and closed the door softly behind her.

Bucky stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door. A knot of worry twisted in his chest, but he forced himself to respect her space. If she wanted to talk, she’d come to him—right?

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Inside her room, Y/N leaned heavily against the door, her breaths shallow and uneven. The adrenaline that had kept her upright on the mission was gone now, leaving behind searing pain radiating from her side.

When she reached the mirror, she caught sight of herself—pale, gaunt, and shaking. Her hand trembled as she gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it up just enough to expose the wound.

The gash was deep, running diagonally across her right side. The edges of the cut were jagged, torn by shrapnel rather than a clean blade, and blood oozed steadily from the open flesh. A makeshift bandage she'd tied during the mission was soaked through, crimson seeping into the fabric and dripping sluggishly down her side to pool on the tiled floor.

“Shit,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her head spinning. The room seemed to tilt and blur as she fumbled for the first aid kit.

She tore open a packet of antiseptic wipes, her fingers clumsy and slick with blood. When she pressed the wipe to the wound, a whimper escaped her lips, the searing pain like fire licking at her nerves.

“I can do this,” she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet.

Blood continued to flow, the bright red mingling with the darker, dried streaks on her skin. The sight made her stomach churn, but she bit down on her lip, determined to clean and close the wound herself.

But her body had other plans. As she reached for the bandages, her vision tunneled, black spots dancing before her eyes. The world spun violently, and her knees buckled, sending her crashing to the floor.

Her head struck the cold tiles, and for a brief moment, everything went still. Blood seeped from the wound in a slow, relentless trickle, pooling around her as her body lay limp and unmoving.

She knew she should have told Bucky, or at least let the medics on the jet take a look. But the thought of admitting she couldn’t handle it, of being a burden, made her stomach churn.

She didn’t want him to hear.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He paced his own room, running a hand through his hair as his mind replayed every moment of the mission. Y/N had been reckless—throwing herself into the thick of the fight, taking risks she normally wouldn’t.

And now, the way she’d brushed him off...

He stopped, listening carefully. His enhanced hearing picked up faint sounds coming from her room—a muffled groan, the clatter of something hitting the floor.

His stomach dropped.

“Y/N?” He was at her door in seconds, knocking firmly. “Y/N, you okay in there?”

No response.

“Doll, open the door.” His voice was sharper now, edged with fear.

Still nothing.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor was the last straw. Bucky’s heart pounded as he threw his weight against the door, the lock giving way under his strength.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Y/N was crumpled on the bathroom floor, her shirt stained red with blood. The first aid kit lay scattered around her, its contents unused. Blood was everywhere—on her shirt, smeared across her fingers, and pooling around her side where the wound continued to bleed. It wasn’t a slow trickle anymore but a steady, terrifying flow that made his heart stop beating.

“Y/N!”

Bucky dropped to his knees beside her, his metal hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. She was pale, her breathing shallow, her lips tinged blue.

“No, no, no. Come on, Doll, keep your eyes open for me.” His voice cracked as he pressed his Vibranium hand against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Her eyelids fluttered, a weak groan escaping her lips.

“Buck... don’t...,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t what? Save you?” His laugh was bitter, panicked. “You’re bleeding out, and you want me to not help? What the hell were you thinking?”

Tears blurred his vision as he worked, his hands trembling. He couldn’t lose her.

“Hold on for me, okay? Just hold on.”

He grabbed his phone with his free hand, calling Sam.

“I need help. Now,” he barked into the phone, rattling off their location.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as Bucky carried Y/N from her room to the medical wing. His steps were quick but measured, careful not to jostle her more than necessary. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and her breathing was so faint it was barely perceptible.

“Stay with me, Doll,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with fear. “You don’t get to do this to me. You hear me?”

He reached the med bay just as Sam burst through the door, his expression shifting from confusion to horror in an instant.

“What happened?” Sam demanded, rushing to help as Bucky laid Y/N gently on the exam table.

“She hid it,” Bucky growled, his jaw clenched. “She got hurt on the mission and didn’t say a damn thing.”

Sam swore under his breath, grabbing gloves and supplies. “Alright, let’s stop the bleeding first. Get me that gauze!”

Bucky moved without thinking, his hands steady even though his mind was a storm of panic. He handed Sam what he needed, stepping back only when absolutely necessary.

As Sam worked, Bucky’s eyes never left Y/N’s face. Her lips moved weakly, forming words he couldn’t quite hear.

“Doll?” He leaned closer, his metal hand brushing against hers. “I’m right here.”

Her eyelids fluttered open just a fraction, and she looked at him through the haze of pain. “Bucky... I’m sorry.”

His chest tightened painfully. “No, don’t you dare apologize. Just focus on staying awake, okay? You can yell at me later if you want, but you’re not leaving me. Not like this.”

Hours passed before Sam finally turned to him with a relieved sigh. “She’ll be okay,” he said, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She lost a lot of blood, but we got it under control. She just needs rest.”

Bucky nodded, the tension in his body easing only slightly. He sank into the chair beside Y/N’s bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands.

Guilt gnawed at him like a living thing. How hadn’t he noticed sooner? He’d seen the way she limped, the way she avoided his gaze. He should have pushed harder, should have made her tell him the truth.

“Bucky.”

Her voice was hoarse, but it snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her eyes open, glassy but focused on him.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his relief palpable. He reached for her hand, holding it gently between his own.

She smiled weakly. “You look terrible.”

A choked laugh escaped him, half amusement, half tears. “You’re one to talk, Doll. Scared the hell out of me.”

Her smile faded as her gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. Or the team.”

“Worry me?” His voice rose, but he quickly softened it when she flinched. “Y/N, you almost died. Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to me?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned her head away. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Bucky’s heart broke at the words. He cupped her face gently, turning her to look at him.

“You could never be a burden,” he said firmly. “You’re my world, Doll. I need you to promise me something—no more hiding. No matter how bad it is, you tell me. Okay?”

Her tears spilled over as she nodded. “Okay.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The following days were a blur of soft words and quiet moments. Bucky barely left Y/N’s side, fussing over her despite her protests.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” she insisted as he hovered, adjusting the pillows around her for the third time that day.

“Humor me,” he said with a small smile, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N sighed, but the soft smile tugging at her lips betrayed her protests. “You’re hovering, you know that?” she teased, though her voice was still a little raspy.

“Damn right I’m hovering,” he shot back, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “I almost lost you, Doll. I’m entitled to a little hovering.”

She tilted her head, her eyes softening as she studied him. The crease between his brows hadn’t quite smoothed out, and there was still a flicker of worry in his blue eyes. “You look more stressed than I do,” she murmured.

“Well, you gave me a few new gray hairs,” he quipped, though his smile widened.

Y/N reached up, resting her hand against his cheek. “I’m okay, Buck. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m made of glass.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned into her touch. “You’re not made of glass, but you’re my Doll. And I don’t care how strong you are—I’m always gonna take care of you.”

The words hung between them, warm and reassuring. Y/N chuckled, her voice light but affectionate. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

“That’s right,” he said, his tone mock-stern. “Now, lay back and let me spoil you a little. I’ll even make you soup later—though I make no promises it’ll taste like Sam’s.”

She laughed, a sound that made his chest ache in the best way. “If it’s terrible, I’ll let you know,” she teased.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a grin as he leaned down to kiss her forehead again, lingering just a moment longer this time. “You’d better,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want you hiding anything from me ever again.”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “No more hiding. I promise.”

“Good,” he said, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. “Now, get some rest, Kitten. You’ve got a whole lot of recovery ahead, and I’m not letting you skip a single step.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. For the first time in days, the weight of guilt and worry lifted, replaced by a warm, comforting certainty. With Bucky beside her, she knew she’d be

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

As she recovered, the weight of what happened began to lift, replaced by something lighter, something hopeful.

One evening, as they sat curled up on the couch, Y/N rested her head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with emotion.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “You deserve the world, Doll. And I’m gonna spend all of my life proving it to you.”

——————————————————————————————————

Hi anonymous reader! I found this really interesting to write because I have a Bucky playlist (Yes, I’m that obsessed) and this song is on it! So, I hope you think this captured the vibe like I thought it did, and enjoy. 🫶

Requests Open!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #bucky angst

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tunastime · 10 months ago

Text

Restful Dreaming, Mr. Freelancer

hi everyone :3 so um. I may have gotten very much into rvb smiles. and you know what happens when I really love something! and when I really love some guys from a something! yeap. here we go again. I just think caboose could be friends with everyone. I'm a caboose enjoyer what can I say. I love him.

Washington follows the Blue Team back to Valhalla, where he tries to get some much needed rest. Emphasis on tries. (3828 words)

When Tucker and Caboose find the unused, fourth room in the base, it’s Tucker that sweeps his arm out and gestures grandly to the room around them. It’s not very large—bed, closet, table, desk, bathroom. Enough space to walk around in—enough blue-white light to make sure nobody goes insane in somewhere so dark. Caboose goes on about how they’re almost neighbors, listing off what they could do being so close, gossip and sleepovers and the like, and Tucker goes on about how that’s nice, Caboose, and sure thing, buddy, and both speak to a Wash that’s not listening. He’s looking over the room, filtering in through a fine layer of yellow, just enough to change the hue from cool to warm, and something settles in the slope of his shoulders. He turns after a beat, folding his arms.

“You’re certain I can stay here?” he asks. Tucker shrugs.

“Yeah, I mean…” he starts, in the way that Tucker always seemed to do when he was on the edge of a decision that ultimately made him uncomfortable. “Just repaying the favor. Plus you’re the only one who really knows how to get Church outta that thing.”

“Epsilon,” Wash corrects. “And it’s a memory unit, not a thing.”

“Sure,” Tucker shrugs. “Whatever.”

“We still don’t know where that thing is,” Wash says, but it’s without any of the usual bored sting he might’ve normally laid on. He can feel the worry in the room like water around the ankles, like it invaded his boots. He steps side to side for a moment, trying to shake the feeling.

“We’ll find it!” Caboose pipes up, nodding several times. “We’ll find Church. I know we will.”

Wash sighs.

“Yeah,” he says. “I hope so.”

There’s a beat of silence. Wash feels his lungs work against the tight feeling in his shoulders all the way up until the point where Caboose breaks the silence.

“I’m going to go make lunch,” he says. “I’m starving.”

“Good point, Caboose,” Tucker agrees. He turns to Wash as he adds: “You, uh, let us know if you need anything. You’ve got the tour, now, so…”

Wash nods.

“Right,” he manages. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

The silence leftover is mostly full of the sound of air circulating through the room and pulling into his helmet. Washington stands in the room in that long moment, finding his head spinning just enough to rock his balance. He’s not so sure he should even be standing, but Tucker had handed him enough med-kits to keep him running, and his bones felt mostly in place, despite some nasty bruising up his shoulder and back, all the way down his right hip and thigh and knee. He pulls himself from his stuck spot, finally gathering the strength to unlatch his helmet. Both thumbs hook under his chin until it clicks, and he sets it in the armor stand.

The thing about the armor is that they’re not necessarily supposed to take it off. It does come off, huge chunks of titanium alloy perfectly compressed to fit each wearer, to sit comfortably against layers of computer arrays and magnetic fasteners, bolts and straps and sealers. As soon as he starts pulling, chest pieces and arm braces come loose, and he sheds the exosuit slowly. Underneath is the cool-black bodysuit. That’s the part that really shouldn’t come off. It did, every once in a while, when there was enough time to spend recalibrating, readjusting, resyncing. The suit and all its layers, down to the skin, down to the channel of his spine, from tailbone to nape of neck, aligned with sensors and biocomponents along a fine, white scar to a thick, but equally healed one at the base of his skull, took time to adjust to. That time was precious.

But it didn’t matter with this suit. There was no connection. The suit would simply communicate without having to know, would respond to forces it knew best, and rely on what he had without a physical, grounding connection. He was free of it. The scar and its components would fade from his body. They’d be nothing but a memory.

Carefully, Wash dissects the titanium bodysuit—kevlar—coming apart at the seam, carefully fastened, skin-tight. It’s uncomfortable at first, adjusting to the air of the base, without the suit’s micro-adjustments for temperature and humidity, but he eventually shirks free and places everything in the armor compartment.

He feels light. He also feels exposed and a little small. He searches for any sort of replacement, sleeping clothes, uniforms, anything plastered with UNSC across the arm or chest or back. When he does find it, he’s quick to pull it on and over his head. The shirt falls crooked across him, pants similarly too large, and he has to wonder what sort of Spartan these were made for, knowing how he certainly wasn’t the smallest soldier he’d met. It’s something, though, and he doubts he’ll be wearing it for very long. In fact, he finds himself tugging it off as soon as he figures out the shower, and douses himself in hot water long enough to get the plastic smell off his skin.

Without the shadow of the day, his reflection in the mirror takes on a sunken quality. His eyes are dark and tired, lines stretching out underneath them, and the already-pale, now-bony quality of his face does little to hide it. He’s turned all sharp angles all too quickly. But if he’s got anyone to bitch to it would be himself. Well, maybe Caboose and Tucker would listen. But they probably wouldn’t understand. Epsilon might’ve ratted out his bad sleeping habits to Caboose, were he still around to actually see them. But he very well was half the reason they existed, so, touche.

Besides, now Wash was looking out on a bed that was impossibly too big for him. He pulls back far too many layers of blankets and pushes aside pillows and makes himself a space between it all.

The lights are dim, casting long, fine shadows in the cool light. They dim further to a blackness as he settles, lying back in the few pillows and pulling still-starchy sheets around him. His tired body all but sinks into the mattress, body aching at every joint from overuse, begging to stay and to be comforted. It's there he lies for a moment, adjusting to weight and pressure, air and texture around him. He sighs. It’s the longest exhale in what feels like a very long time. The back of his throat, up through his nose, starts to burn.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He takes a sharp breath in.

Washington’s hands come up on instinct, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as he fights back a sound from deep in his chest. It’s hard—it feels so stupid to call this hard, because he could just crack, just for a second. Just for a moment of relief, and—he does, shutting his eyes tight still and willing in a breath through his nose as he turns his face into pillows that he hopes were nobody else's and probably never were and never would be again. Nobody knows he’s alive. Not Command, not Project Freelancer, not the Meta—Maine. Not even Epsilon. For now. The weight off his shoulders was so instant it nearly winded him, on a bed seemingly too large. It was simply him, unshackled, and the blue-white armor in its case, and Caboose, and Tucker. And the base around him was quiet.

Washington lets his body relax. Sleep comes like a heavy blanket.

His second week’s worth of sleep doesn’t go as well. Tonight, Wash is still awake. It’s not of his own choice—if it were he’d already be asleep, curled into the plush pillows and firm mattress. He stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are dry, and it’s not all that comfortable to blink, actually. He’d prefer to focus on sinking into this nice bed, but he’s having a bit of a hard time. What he means by nice bed is that he’s gotten so used to sleeping on the ground or in the back seat of a moving Warthog or the jet or his cot so folded and unfolded that it stopped being comfortable, or the bunk that was just the right size but not nearly deep enough to fit him without moving, that having actual room to move around is really good. It’s really good, actually, and he’s not sure when the last time he had such a nice sleep was.

He’s not even sure when he woke up that first day, aside from the fact that it was Caboose waking him up and it was still dark out—or had just gotten that way. Maybe he’d slept that whole day. But he wandered around the Valhalla base instead, swallowing down the ache low in his spine. He mapped the rooms in his head, twisting around the circular hallways. Kitchen, armory, five rooms, garage, a small central living quarters that remained barren and empty, aside from bits of broken computers, radios, and robot parts. The floor still smelled like cleaner, remnant from the UNSC’s thorough cleaning.

Anyway—he’s still awake in his own room. His eyes hurt. He’s looking into the dark grey ceiling and wondering if sleep might crawl its way back to him when there’s a knock on the door. There’s a brief pause before it happens again. He frowns, scrubbing at his eyes as his brain fights the fog settling over it.

“Agent Washington,” a voice says, feigning a whisper through the sliding door.

“Caboose?” he whispers back, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t it late? He looks over to the bedside table, reading the dull red numbers on the clock—yeah. Late. “What are you still doing up?”

He hears Caboose sigh. If he thinks hard enough he can imagine him leaning against the metal frame, cheek pressed against the door, looking about as pathetic as he sounds.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, part tired and almost part sad.

“Why’s that?”

“I—” Caboose lowers his voice even further. “I had a nightmare.”

Wash blinks slowly, sitting up, eyebrows still furrowed as he frowns. He counts himself lucky that his head isn’t spinning from lying down too much. Sighing, he presses his fingers to his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, trying to make the blurry room come back into focus.

“You—” he tsks as he words jumble in his brain, hazy with sleep. “Why did you come here?”

“Can I come sleep with you?” Caboose asks, completely ignoring the previous question. Heels of the hands to his eye sockets. Alright. Fine. He waves uselessly at the door, knowing full well Caboose can’t see him. Then it clicks in his brain: response. Right.

When Wash goes to give him an answer, it’s replaced by the sound of his bedroom door sliding open and shut and Caboose wandering in. The muddled dark obscures his silhouette more than usual and the normally wide slope of his shoulders was much more drawn in than Wash was expecting. He’s partially shrouded by his own blanket, wrapped around him as he steps in.

Wash feels something rolling around in his chest as he watches Caboose shuffle over, like his brain isn’t absorbing the situation properly. He mostly just feels lost. He’s still sitting up, slouched forward, mouth a fine line. His arms pool in his lap, head tilted just so as he observes Caboose in front of him. This is weird, right? Not in a bad way. It’s just weird.

Caboose stands there, frowning just a little bit, enough to almost be a pout, mostly looking at the bedside and not at Washington.

“I—” Wash starts, trying to protest. Caboose looks up at him for a moment with wide, brown eyes, and Wash feels his chest tighten. He shuts his eyes, sighing out of his nose. Then he pulls the covers back, gesturing vaguely to the space next to him as he lies back down. If there was one thing he’d learned from Caboose, it was that there was no arguing a point once he’d made his mind up. He was as stubborn as he was strong, and the man wasn’t slight.

There’s a beat of silence as Washington gets comfortable again against the mattress again, feeling Caboose move to his left. He worms around a bit, knee bumping the outside of Wash’s leg, elbows knocking together as Caboose makes more of Wash’s bed his own space. With Caboose’s arm now pinning his own, he clears his throat.

“Caboose,” he says firmly.

“Washington,” Caboose says, like his name holds the same weight as it did so long ago. At least someone’s impressed.

He sighs. Caboose is a heavy, warm weight against his side, and although he clings to his left arm like his life might depend on it, Washington couldn’t necessarily call it bad.

“You can either get comfortable,” he says slowly. “Or I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Okay,” Caboose says quickly, wriggling further over. As his head lolls, it falls against the bone of the high of Wash’s shoulder. He ends up curled up in the space Wash’s side leaves open, head on his shoulder and arm over his ribcage. He’s heavy, holding himself and Wash to the mattress as he relaxes. Wash’s arm ends up pinned under him, bendable at the elbow, enough to shift around and find a comfortable spot to rest it. Caboose manages to pull the blankets over them both haphazardly, lying part on him and part over Washington’s torso. He squeezes his eyes shut. Caboose cannot be serious. This can’t be his solution, right? He takes a long breath in. Caboose finally says:

“Thank you, Washington,” in a soft and sleepy voice mostly muffled by his shoulder.

Washington sighs.

“Sure, Caboose,” he says, resigned. “Glad I could help.”

Caboose hums, sounding comfortable. In the time it takes for Caboose to finally knock out, how short of a time that was, Wash finally relaxes. He lets the weight around him settle him on the mattress, tired and heavy, and lets his eyes close. He can’t catch the edge of sleep just yet, but he can lay here, quiet and still, so that Caboose can sleep. He matches the slow rise and fall of Caboose’s shoulders, feeling his muscles slacken as he drifts off. Maybe it’s nice, actually. The weight against his side, pressure to the muscles that ache, warmth and heavy comfort. He can’t remember the last time someone shared the same bed space as him—those bunks were too small to really fall asleep next to somebody in, and sleeping in shifts wasn’t the same as someone sleeping against you.

He can faintly feel where Caboose’s cheek is crushed against his shoulder, where his arm rests over his chest, hand tucked against his other side. When he looks over, Caboose’s eyes have shut, face relaxed in sleep. There, he leans, pressing his cheek to the top of Caboose’s head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe it is nice. Maybe being needed for something so innocent as comfort could be nice. His chest twists, something as painful as it is warm weaseling up next to his lungs.

It reminds him of Invention. Nobody really wanted to leave York alone after the accident on the training room floor. He could fall or trip, he could miscalculate and hit into something harder than expected. They spent time crammed into the bunk spaces, shoulders to shoulders, to hips, to legs over knees, trying to catch sleep in between missions, how little time that was. Washington found himself in these moments more often than not, and now more than ever it seemed that touch was a thing not often disseminated. But he had it now, and he let himself have it. He let Caboose snore into the hollow of his shoulder and tuned it out as he tried to rest.

In the morning he’ll ask him what bothered him so much that he couldn’t sleep, or why he thought Wash could help. It wasn’t important now.

For now, he just tries to sleep.

Wash feels heavy.

He blinks his eyes open, the world coming to in barely-there light and soft blankets. There’s a weight over him, warm and solid. Caboose still sleeps soundly even as Wash shifts to stretch pins and needles from his left arm. The world stays still, held in a quiet balance. In it, Caboose breathes slowly and evenly against his shoulder, torso still haphazardly thrown across Wash’s chest. He’s curled his hand in a loose fist, snagging part of Wash’s shirt.

Washington sighs. There lingers a heavy, groggy feeling over his mind that he thinks he’ll have a hard time shaking, remnants of running too hard, too fast without stopping. He fought so hard only to again come up empty handed, aside from the now-bitter taste of his freedom. But for now he focuses on this moment. He rests his cheek against the top of Caboose’s head.

As he does, Caboose hums, waking enough to tense and relax again.

“Good morning, Caboose,” Wash manages tiredly, lying still. Caboose doesn’t move either, except to shift his cheek to a more comfortable position.

“Hello, Washington,” Caboose says, slow and sleep-thick but cheery. “You let me stay!”

Wash huffs out something, maybe a laugh and maybe a sigh.

“You’re surprised?” Wash asks, staring at the ceiling. It takes a minute for Caboose to answer, and in that time, Wash’s eyes shut, too heavy to hold open. Caboose draws his arm back from his chest.

“Tucker’s not very cuddly,” he says, only partially answering the question. “I can’t really judge if people will like it.”

“I take it not many do?” He asks. Caboose shrugs, somewhat stilted, speaking in that long, sighing way that he does.

“It varies.”

Wash hums.

“Right.”

In a beat of silence, Caboose unravels himself. He sits up, swaying a bit, shuffling around. It leaves a cold hollow where he used to lie, and Wash pulls his arm back from where it used to curl around him. He folds his hands over his sternum as Caboose sits up and shifts back.

“How did you sleep!” He asks, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. Wash nods, finally blinking his eyes open.

“It was fine,” he says slowly. “How did you sleep?”

Caboose shrugs again.

“I slept okay—” he says. “You scared off all my bad dreams I think.”

Wash snorts, furrowing his eyebrows. Caboose blinks down at him with wide eyes. It’s almost catlike, the way he watches over him, like he’s waiting for Wash to reach out and force him to move out of his space. He’s still slightly blurry, courtesy of the sleep in Wash’s eyes.

“I did?” Wash asks. Caboose nods, looking sincere

“Yep.”

Wash looks away, huffing out. Something turns in his chest, warmly at that.

“Well that’s good,” he says. Caboose nods again. He’s just far enough away that in the dim lighting Washington can’t really read his face, but it seems soft and comfortable and Wash tries to remember if that’s a good thing. There’s only so many times you see someone’s face while being out in the field that you sort of just learn reactions based on tone and less on body language. After a beat, Wash says, haltingly, brain trying to find the words:

“Caboose, what… what is it that you had a nightmare about? What—why did you come to me?”

Caboose shrugs, waving his hands back and forth. He’s not looking at him.

“Oh, you know, just about Church and Epsilon, and Tex, and you, and everyone dying and exploding and dying again,” he sighs, shoulders falling, looking distinctly less bothered than Wash expects him to be. It puts something cold-to-cool in the pit of his stomach. “But it’s okay, you’re still here! And nightmares are afraid of you.”

Wash swallows.

“Oh,” he says lamely. It doesn’t feel right, all of a sudden, to just be sitting here. Caboose tilts his head at him.

“Did you have a nightmare, Agent Washington?” he asks, leaning forward a bit. He squints at him. Wash stares back, eyes wide. “You look kinda pale.”

“Um, no,” he says plainly. “No I don’t… normally dream.”

“Oh,” Caboose says. His face drops. “That sounds sad.”

Wash shakes his head.

“It’s fine.”

Caboose hums, tapping his hands on his knees.

“You can tell me if you ever have a nightmare,” he says, smiling, a pleased look crossing his face. “I can come and scare it away.”

Wash snorts, a smile creeping onto his face. He folds his hands together, tracing out the edge of his thumb with his other thumb. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at Caboose.

“Are you looking for an excuse to sleep next to someone?” He asks, a curious lilt to his voice. Caboose blinks, eyes falling to his hands. He shrugs.

“No…” he says. Then, “Maybe.”

“Well it…” Wash sighs, shutting his eyes again. “It was nice. Thank you, Caboose.”

“Mhm,” Caboose says sleepily.

There’s a moment of silence. Wash moves to get more comfortable, shifting back to rest his head properly on the pillows. He can feel his body sag as he does, that tired tug pulling on his shoulders and hips and eyes. He drums his fingers against his sternum, watching Caboose. Caboose’s eyes slip shut for a moment as he leans hand against his hand.

“I’m uh…going to try to get some more sleep,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. Caboose stays still, as if he’s fallen asleep again, shoulders weakly rising and falling as he breathes. “Caboose?”

There’s no answer. Caboose leans sideways as Wash goes to reach for him, folding like he’d lost all his core stability. As he crumples, he falls forward, half onto Wash in front of him, half into the bed itself.

“Caboose,” Wash tries again. Caboose doesn’t move, sinking further into his side.

Wash sighs. Caboose stays, solid and heavy and thrown over his chest. He feels like a little kid again, sharing a room with his sisters, or he feels like it’s some time back in training, both cats making their home on his chest. Caboose was kind of like a cat. If a cat were a dog, were late to the punch, were the same level as unable to catch the joke as he was. It was kind of sweet. Wash shifts him ever so slightly, until he’s leaning into his side again, head against his shoulder.

Caboose yawns, sighing out against his shoulder, shuffling to get comfortable. Wash curls his arm over his back, hand cupping around his shoulder, smoothing his thumb over the seam of his shirt. Caboose makes a little noise, a little sigh, and falls quiet. The world, too, is warm and quiet. Somewhere in that warmth, a soothing feeling washes over him.

Just a little more sleep, he thinks. Then he’ll get up.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb caboose #agent washington #michael j caboose #rvb wash #rvb washington #rvb fic #fics #text #so for context this takes place in season 9? end of season 8 into 9 #but i'm all the way in the chorus trilogy at this point so >:3 wheheeh #BITING TUMBLR VERY HARD FOR DELETING MY FIRST DRAFT WITH ACTUAL TAGS < they saved it to the wrong blog #whatever here we go again!! i am still scared this time but myke and shepherd are holding my hands so its fine #tunastime is an rvb fan who would've thought wow #spins around so fast and falls over #i can't wait to be insane about myke's art next yippeee :3

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asendingtothestarsasone · 1 year ago

Text

Soft and Sweet

Synopsis: A new member joining your brother's band leads to a blossoming romance with the loving danny.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!

Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Oral (Female Receiving), Fingering, Loss of Virginity.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

For as long as I can remember, it had always been me and my brothers. We were inseparable, spending our days by the lake or at home in our parents' basement. Jake started playing an instrument, and soon the others made their way down there, picking up instruments and learning the ropes. I would spend my days on the couch, listening in on the band meetings and practices, watching them improve with each session.

One day, their drummer Kyle didn't show up, and the boys were frustrated. Reluctantly, I gave it a go, hopping on the kit. I tried to learn a simple beat, but I knew the boys needed someone with the X factor. Over the next few days, Josh, Jake, and Sam became discouraged, putting out a call for a new drummer.

One day, Sam said, “I know the perfect person for this. Let me give him a call.” Within an hour, there was a knock at the door. Sam immediately jumped up and rushed to the door. Walking back in, he had a huge smile on his face. A few seconds later, in walked a 6-foot god with beautifully tanned skin and a mess of black curls. Walking up to me, he reached out his hand, and I was greeted with the most beautiful brown eyes and a perfect smile.

"Hey, I'm Danny," he said.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," I replied.

"It's lovely to meet you."

"You too," I smiled shyly.

Jumping on the kit, Danny immediately fell into sync with the rest of the boys. Not only did he match the bands energy, but he also brought his own unique vibe to the band. As time passed, days turned into nights filled with rehearsals, laughter, and shared passion, and amidst the creative energy, I couldn't help but notice something between Danny and me.

In no time, Danny seamlessly became a vital part of the group, fitting into the rhythm of our lives. As rehearsals continued, I found myself spending even more time in the basement, listening to the music, and watching Danny's infectious enthusiasm for his craft. There was a magnetic pull, an unspoken connection that seemed to transcend the musical notes.

One summer's day, the heat in the garage became unbearable, so we decided to head out to the lake. I could sense that my brothers were up to something by the way they were looking at me.

"What's going on? Why are you all smiling?" I questioned.

Sam grinned, "Oh, it's nothing. It's just that there's no room in Jake's car with all our gear. You might have to ride with Danny." The absurd smirk on his face was hard to ignore.

"Really? And why can't you ride with Danny?" I inquired.

"I have to talk to Jake and Josh about the band," Jake chimed in. "Yeah, it's a really... um, important discussion," he added, with a laughter that seemed to be trying to escape his lips.

I couldn't help but notice the mischievous glances exchanged between my brothers, leaving me with a sense of curiosity and mild suspicion.

Despite their vague explanations, I reluctantly agreed to ride with Danny to the lake.

The drive to the lake was accompanied by laughter and lively banter. Danny and I struck up a conversation, discovering shared interests and finding comfort in each other's company. The initial awkwardness I felt about the arrangement started to dissipate as we connected over stories and laughter.

Upon reaching the lake, the sun cast a warm glow over the water, creating a serene atmosphere. My brothers quickly dispersed to set up for a day of relaxation, leaving Danny and me by the shore. As we found a comfortable spot, he looked at me with a genuine smile, breaking the ice.

Danny, always up for some fun, grinned at me, "Ready for a swim?"

With a nod, we waded into the water together. The lake was refreshing, and the evening breeze played with our hair as we swam further from the shore. As we floated on the surface, conversation flowed effortlessly. It was a moment of serenity amidst the playful splashes and laughter of the boys.

At some point, Danny suggested diving underwater, and we both took a deep breath before submerging ourselves. The cool water enveloped us, and in that submerged world, our surroundings became muffled, leaving only the gentle sounds of the lake. It was a moment of shared tranquility, our eyes meeting beneath the water, conveying a silent understanding.

As we made our way back to dry land, a lighthearted teasing ensued from the boys about the 'underwater connection' between Danny and me.

"So, what do you think they're really up to?" Danny asked, his eyes reflecting a playful curiosity.

I chuckled, "Your guess is as good as mine. Knowing my brothers, it could be anything from a band discussion to plotting some elaborate prank."

Our conversation flowed effortlessly, and the day unfolded with shared laughter, dipping our feet in the cool water, and simply enjoying each other's company. Danny's easygoing nature and charm made it clear why my brothers were so fond of him.

As the sun began to set, we gathered with the others for a bonfire. Amidst the crackling flames, my brothers couldn't contain their excitement any longer.

"We've been planning something," Jake admitted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Josh added, "Since Danny joined the band, we thought it was high time you two got to know each other better."

Sam chimed in, "Consider this a little nudge in the right direction."

Embarrassment flooded my face. I should have known that they would do this to me. Drying off by the bonfire, the water drops on Danny's abs sparkled like stars. I couldn't help but notice the glistening droplets, and, trying not to be too obvious, my face blushed. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to rub my eye.

Danny, catching on to my attempt at subtlety, smirked. "Is everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, his tone teasing.

I chuckled nervously, "Yeah, everything's fine. I just got something in my eye, you know, the smoke from the bonfire."

He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Smoke from the bonfire? Or maybe you just couldn't resist the dazzling display?"

The others laughed, joining in on the good-natured teasing. Despite the light banter, there was a warmth in Danny's eyes that hinted at something more. As we all settled around the bonfire once again, I couldn't help but steal a glance at him, and our eyes met briefly, creating a momentary connection that spoke volumes beyond the playfulness.

Under the starlit sky, amidst the laughter of friends and the crackling of the fire, the day by the lake continued to unfold, leaving behind memories that twinkled like stars—each one a testament to the unexpected connection that had sparked between us.

The next day brought with it a sense of tranquility. The sun rose gracefully, casting a golden hue over the lake. Our group gathered for a leisurely breakfast by the water, the events of the previous day still lingering in the air.

As we sipped on hot coffee and enjoyed the peaceful morning, Danny and I exchanged smiles, our connection from the day before woven into the fabric of our interactions. The teasing from the bonfire had become a shared joke, creating an easy rapport between us.

The day unfolded in a series of moments—swimming in the clear waters, basking in the sun, and simply enjoying the company. As we lounged by the lake, the conversation turned to music, and Danny and I found ourselves discussing our favorite bands, songs, and the essence of what drew us to music in the first place.

In the midst of the laughter and easy conversations, there was an unspoken acknowledgment between us, a silent understanding that went beyond words. The day felt like a continuation of the serendipitous connection that had begun by the lake, and with each passing moment, it deepened

As the day nears its end, Danny suggests a walk up a nearby hill, promising a breathtaking view of the surrounding landscape. Intrigued, I agree, and together we embark on a leisurely stroll away from the laughter of the bonfire.

The path takes us through a canopy of trees, with dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. The air is filled with the soothing sounds of nature—the rustle of leaves, the distant chirping of crickets, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

As we reach the top of the hill, the view unfolds before us, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. The lake sparkles in the fading daylight, and the surrounding landscape is painted in shades of orange and pink. It's a scene of serene beauty, and for a moment, we stand in quiet appreciation.

Feeling the magic of the moment, Danny turns to me with a soft smile. "Isn't it amazing?" he says, his eyes reflecting the warmth of the fading sunlight.

I nod in agreement, taking in the breathtaking scenery. The air is charged with a gentle energy, and it feels as if the world has slowed down just for us.

As we stand there, captivated by the view, Danny's hand gently finds mine. The touch is tender, and without a word, he invites me to continue the journey. We follow a winding path to a quieter spot, where the sounds of nature provide a gentle soundtrack to our steps.

Arriving at a secluded spot, surrounded by the beauty of nature, Danny turns to face me. There's a quiet intensity in his gaze—a warmth that goes beyond words. In that moment, as the last rays of the sun paint the sky in hues of pink and orange, he cups my face gently in his hands.

"I've had an incredible time here with you," he says, his voice a soft whisper.

His words hang in the air, and before I can respond, he leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss. It's a kiss filled with innocence and romance, a gentle exploration of the connection that has quietly woven between us. The world around us fades away as we share this intimate moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the quiet symphony of the evening.

As we pull away, there's something in our gaze—a recognition of the subtle magic that has unfolded between us. The hilltop, with its panoramic view and the quiet beauty of the evening, becomes a timeless backdrop to the beginning of something special. Hand in hand, we descend from the hill, leaving behind the twilight and stepping into the promise of what lies ahead.

As we make our way back from the hill, the air is filled with a newfound warmth, and the connection between Danny and me deepens. The journey back is filled with shared laughter, whispered conversations, and a subtle electricity that lingers between us.

Upon returning, the atmosphere has shifted. The subtle touches become more deliberate, and there's an undeniable tension in the air. Danny's hand finds mine naturally, fingers intertwining as if they've found their perfect fit. Our conversations become more intimate, exploring dreams, fears, and the intricacies of our lives.

As the night wears on, the group gradually disperses, leaving Danny and me in a quiet corner. The crackling embers of the bonfire cast a soft glow, creating an intimate space that seems to exist just for us. The air is charged with anticipation, and our closeness becomes magnetic.

Danny's gaze meets mine, a silent invitation that speaks volumes. Without a word, he leans in, and our lips meet in a lingering kiss. The kiss is no longer innocent; it's charged with a growing desire and the recognition of something more profound between us.

Returning home, the excitement was palpable as news spread through the small town that my brothers' band had been booked for a local gig. It was a significant milestone, marking a step closer to their dreams of making it in the music scene. The anticipation bubbled in the air as they prepared for the performance, fine-tuning their setlist and rehearsing tirelessly in our parents' basement.

As the night unfolds, the gig at the local bar proves to be lively and invigorating. The atmosphere is filled with the pulsating rhythm of music, the warmth of laughter, and the collective joy of the crowd. As the evening progresses, I find myself getting swept away by the celebration, and the drinks flow more freely than anticipated.

As the night draws to a close, I realize my brothers have left without me. Feeling a bit disoriented and more than a little tipsy, I turn to Danny for help. He kindly offers to give me a ride home, and we navigate the city streets in the quiet of the night.

Upon reaching my home, a sense of foreboding washes over me as I find the lights off and the door locked. My brothers have unintentionally left me stranded. Panicking, Danny suggests, "You can stay at my place for the night. I won't touch you, I promise."

Grateful for the offer, I accept, and we head to Danny's place. The ride is filled with a mix of quiet contemplation and unspoken tension. As we step into his apartment, the dim light casts a soft glow, and the atmosphere is charged with a blend of awkwardness and vulnerability.

Inside, Danny suggests a cup of tea to soothe the nerves. We sit on the couch, and in the quiet of the room, the unspoken energy between us becomes palpable. Danny, with genuine concern, tries to make me feel at ease, recognizing the unexpected turn of events.

As the night progresses, we find ourselves sharing personal stories, dreams, and fears. The connection deepens, and there's a magnetic pull between us. In a moment of vulnerability, our lips meet in a hesitant kiss. The room seems to hum with a blend of emotions—anticipation, desire, and a shared need for eachother.

Suddenly, I pull away, breathless, revealing my truth. "I've never done this before," I admit, the vulnerability in my voice laying bare my inexperience. "I'm a virgin."

Danny looks at me, his expression softening with understanding. He gently caresses my cheek and says, "I don't think we should do this right now; it's not right."

His words hang in the air, and there's a brief pause. Danny's decision, though unexpected, carries a sense of respect and consideration. The room, once charged with anticipation, is now shrouded in an understanding that the best things in life are worth waiting for.

As the night ends, Danny offers a spare room for me to sleep in. The tension lingers, but there's a newfound understanding between us—one that transcends the physical.

The day after the local gig, embarrassment lingered within me like a heavy cloud, making it difficult to look Danny in the eye. The memory of our intimate moment weighed on my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability. As time passed, however, the atmosphere gradually shifted, and the routine of rehearsals and shared musical passion helped to rebuild a sense of normalcy.

The turning point came when the boys received an invitation to play at a significant music venue in Nashville. The prospect of such an opportunity filled the air with excitement, overshadowing the remnants of embarrassment. We all traveled to Nashville, and as we checked into the hotel, the anticipation of the upcoming gig added an extra layer of excitement.

The night of the performance was nothing short of magical. The big music venue buzzed with energy, the crowd eager to experience the raw talent of my brothers' band. The stage lights illuminated the venue, casting a mesmerizing glow. As the boys played their hearts out, the audience responded with enthusiasm, creating an electric atmosphere.

Unable to take my eyes off the stage, I watched in awe as the music reverberated through the venue. Danny's passion for the drums was evident in every beat, and his energy added a dynamic layer to the performance. God, he was beautiful up there. The gig was a resounding success, leaving an indelible mark on the Nashville music scene.

After the performance, we all went out for dinner to celebrate. The excitement lingered, and a sense of camaraderie filled the air. With the adrenaline of the gig still coursing through our veins, Danny suggested a visit to a beautifully lit garden nearby.

As we walked through the garden, the soft glow of lights creating a romantic ambiance, the atmosphere became charged with a different kind of energy. The initial hesitancy melted away, and beneath the moonlit sky, we shared a kiss—a gentle, affirming connection that transcended any lingering doubts.

Afterwards, we drove back to the hotel in a comfortable silence. In Danny's hotel room, surrounded by the soft hum of city sounds, we delved into deep conversations about music, life, and dreams. The connection between us intensified, and as we shared more intimate moments, the barriers that had once separated us crumbled.

In that hotel room, beneath the city lights of Nashville, our hearts beat in unison. The night unfolded like a melody, each note resonating with the shared rhythm of our connection. As we kissed and touched more intimately, it became clear that the embarrassment of the past couldn't dull the electrifying connection—one that seemed to echo the music that had brought us together in the first place.

Our kisses grew more intense, reflecting the raw emotions that had been building between us. In the heat of the moment, Danny's lips found their way to my neck, and the sensation sent shivers down my spine. The aggression of his kisses was both thrilling and exhilarating, igniting a flame that seemed to burn brighter with every touch.

As he kissed my neck with a fervor, the boundaries between us blurred, and the intensity of the connection we shared became undeniable. The passion in the air heightened, and the room seemed to close in, creating a space where desire and anticipation mingled.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there was a certain tenderness in Danny's touch—a delicate balance between the fierce passion and gentle softness.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I want you more than anything.”

“I want to make you feel how you deserve to feel.”

Leaving a trail of kisses down my neck to the top of my pelvis, he gently pulls my pants down. Laying a kiss on my center over my underwear, the feeling is overwhelming and I let out a soft moan.

His mouth against me becomes increasingly intense until I feel his tongue gently brush against my center, the licks becoming more aggressive.

“Holy fuck that feels amazing.”

“Shh just relax.”

I feet something bubbling my inside me, I grab his hand and he grips around it. He looks up at me through my legs and I melt. The feeling takes over my whole body but he doesn’t relent pushing me over the edge. When I start to come down from the high he goes back to kissing my center and stroking his thumb over my hand.

“Can I please do that again, you taste amazing.”

“Please.”

Going back to licking, this time focusing on my clit, makes my legs shake. I reach for his hand again. Once I started moaning and feel the beginning of that feeling bubbling again, he stops. Opening my eyes and looking to see what was happening, he lifts his finger to his mouth and covers it in saliva and brings it to my entrance

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

“I'll be gentle I promise.”

As soon as I felt his finger enter me, it was too much, digging my nails into his flesh. Suddenly, he stops.

“It's okay, I promise I won't hurt you.”

Relaxing into it, he pushes his finger in slowly till it is all the way. Then he returns his tongue to my clit the feeling Is pure bliss and I was quickly brought to climax again. This time I felt wetness cover his finger, which I could tell made him very happy. Licking his finger clean he leans over me and kisses me so passionately that all the breath was knocked out of me. He gently places his hand around my neck and licks into my mouth the feeling of his tongue is amazing. As I kiss him back, he holds me in place, then takes one hand and squeezes my breast. Taking his time to kiss and touch me, I felt the wetness pooling.

“I want you so bad.”

“Are you sure? We can just leave it here. I promise this was enough for me”

“Please fuck me.”

Just like that, he lines himself up with my opening. Looking in my eyes for any sign of fear, he kisses me deeply on the lips and pushes himself inside of me. Feeling the stretch instantly filling me up, I moaned into his mouth. he waits a little while for me to get used to his size, then slowly pushes himself deeper and deeper until it is all the way inside. kissing my neck, he slowly starts to pull out and push back in until I get used to the feeling. Moans quickly leave my mouth, and I claw at his back at the feeling, and I feel myself getting wetter.

“You feel so fucking good.” he moans into my ear.

“Such a good girl.”

As soon I could feel myself about to cum, he holds me tighter, relentlessly pounding deeper and deeper.

“I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum for me angel.”

Just like that I come undone, tensing around his cock.

“you're going to make me cum too.”

His cock twitches inside me as he cums, he pulls out and sends cum all over me. Getting up he gets a warm washcloth and cleans me up. He pulls me into a big bear hug and kisses my cheek. The feeling is so peaceful knowing Danny will always be there for me. I can trust him and know he wouldn't let me down. He plays with my hair until I fall asleep. Drifting off, I think to myself, I can't wait to try everything with danny.

#danny wagner #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #greta van fleet fic #gvf #gvf smut

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wosotales · 3 months ago

Text

Behind The Kit: Arsenal's Chosen Family - Flipcident

Kyra's brattiness reaches a new level and it ends with dire concequences when she messes with the wrong person. Big thank you to @batllethinker for her help with coming up with this one shot fic. There's plans for a part 2 of this as well.

“Gotcha, Lessi!” Kyra decided to take the opportunity to rugby tackle Alessia and catch her completely off guard in the gym.

Alessia couldn’t help but jump half a mile, “Ah jesus– Why’re you being so annoying today?”

“I’m always like this,” Kyra answered with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

“Yeah,” Alessia huffed and pushed the Australian away from her, “Okay, why are you being even more annoying than usual?” she asked.

“It’s not even that bad,” Kyra was quick to fire back, losing interest in winding Alessia up in favour of her new target - Steph.

“Boo!” Kyra launched herself on Steph and took the opportunity to latch onto her.

“What do you want, pest?” Steph questioned, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as the younger girl all but clung onto her.

“You can’t move now. Ha, you’re stuck! What are you gonna do about it?” Kyra peered up at Steph and grinned cheekily.

Steph sighed deeply, trying to keep her patience, “Ky, you can’t sit there. I need to use the weights.”

“Too bad. You’re trapped now!” Kyra said playfully, poking her tongue out at her.

“Urgh! You’re being such a pest,” Steph grumbled, while Kyra continued to sit on the floor and keep her arms wrapped around her in the gym to stop her from moving much to the older girl's annoyance.

In the time that Kyra had settled at Arsenal, it was certain that she was the definition of a brat. She had definitely been making herself more comfortable, and with that, she loved to push buttons.

The girl had been in a particularly bratty mood all week, she had a certain bold streak that made her a magnet for chaos.

Going from interrupting conversations, stealing water bottles, or making exaggerated imitations of the girls’ accents, she was on a roll to cause trouble.

“Kyra,” Lia sent the younger girl a firm look, but of course Kyra chose to ignore it and continue her mission to create havoc.

“What? I’m just having fun!” Kyra innocently replied, not making any attempt to move away from winding Steph up, “Stephy doesn’t mind!”

“Stephy does mind,” Steph grumbled in response.

Lia shook her head and gave Kyra another warning look, clearly unimpressed, “You’re already on thin ice. Reign it in.”

Kyra, of course, nodded with mock solemnity and then promptly did the opposite.

“Ky, you need to stop or you’re going to get yourself in trouble,” Leah even attempted to step and sway the Australian girl from continuing to seek out trouble, but that did little to nothing to help.

“Quit it, Ky,” Caitlin chimed in.

“I’m having fun. What’s the harm?” Kyra carelessly shrugged her shoulders in response before gazing around to find her next victim.

Kyra thrived off the reactions that she got, whether it was frustrated groans or exasperated eye-rolls. But Kyra, now emboldened by her newfound family, wasn’t paying attention to the way her antics were pushing boundaries, and the young Australian sought out to make Viv her number one target.

By the time that training had wrapped up, everyone was exhausted. The session had been tough, and tensions were running high.

Viv, who had been a little quieter than usual, slumped in her spot in the locker room, and Kyra took this as the perfect opportunity to wind her up.

“Whatcha got there, Vivi?” Kyra grinned, sliding up to her.

Clutched in Viv’s hand was her stuffie, otherwise known as Flip, her bear that was her anchor on tough days, a quiet reminder of safety and comfort, especially when her little headspace threatened to emerge in a chaotic environment, “Flip.” she answered quietly.

“Kyra, don’t you dare,” Kim could already see the cogs’ whirring around in Kyra’s head, and somehow predicted what was about to happen.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Kyra feigned her innocence as she held her hands up in mock surrender.

“I’m not so convinced,” The Scottish woman muttered in disagreement, trying to keep a close eye on Kyra since she was feeling somewhat bold to push buttons today.

“Vivi, can I hold Flip?” Kyra questioned.

“N… No,” Viv’s voice was quiet but firm.

“Awh, don’t be like that,” Kyra pouted and before anyone could intervene, she reached out to snatch Flip out from Viv’s hands.

“Give him back!” Viv instantly wailed, alarmed at the loss of her stuffie in her hands before

The room fell silent for a brief as Viv froze, her bottom lip trembled and the silence was shattered when she let out a raw and heart-wrenching sob, and she curled in on herself, tears streaming down her face as she reached helplessly for her bear.

“Kyra!” Lia’s voice was sharp as a whip, “Give it back. Now.”

Kyra, still oblivious to the gravity of the situation, held Flip out of reach, “What? It’s just a dumb stuffie!”

“Would you like it if someone took your koala?” Caitlin chimed in, stepping closer to the younger girl.

“I was only messing around…” Kyra hesitated, guilt flickering across her face.

“What’s going on?” Lisa walked into the locker room, out of the corner of her eye she could see Kyra taunting Viv with Flip in her hand and instantly knew this wouldn’t be good when she could see how upset Viv was.

“Mama,” Viv’s broken voice cut through the tension as Lisa entered the room, “Ky… Kyra’s got Flip, and she won’t give him back!”

Lisa’s face hardened immediately as she took in the scene, “Kyra,” she said, her tone deadly calm, “Hand it over. Now.”

Under Lisa’s piercing gaze, Kyra reluctantly handed Flip back. Lisa crouched beside Viv, and tucked the bear into her trembling hands.

“Shh, liefje,” Lisa murmured softly in Dutch, pulling Viv into her arms and rubbing soothing circles on her back, “You’re okay now. Flip’s here. You’re safe.”

Seeing the sight of Viv looking so broken seemed to wake Kyra up to the gravity of what she had done, but before she could offer any apologies, Lisa stood up and turned to her with a look that made Kyra swallow hard.

“Kyra,” Lisa started, her voice low but filled with authority, and she didn’t hesitate to grab the young Australian by her bicep and drag her, she was going to deal with her once and for all.

Kyra’s playful mood quickly shifted as she was led over to the bench by Lisa. She could feel the weight of the situation sinking in, especially when Lisa’s hand grabbed her bicep tightly, firm and unyielding.

Kyra had been known to push boundaries, but the somber look on Lisa’s face made her stomach twist.

“You don’t take things that don’t belong to you,” Lisa’s voice was stern, and there was no mistaking the authority in it.

Kyra opened her mouth to protest, but Lisa was already moving into position and holding her firmly over her knee. The younger girl tensed up, her usual bravado faltering as she realised just how serious Lisa was.

She’d really crossed a line this time.

“Please, don’t–” Kyra started, her voice small, but Lisa didn’t relent.

“I want the paddle,” Lisa motioned to the team paddle that was hanging up on a hook in the locker room wall.

“Lisa, are you sure?” Lia’s voice was hesitant, the last thing she wanted was her own baby girl to be punished with that, but Kyra had really been pushing buttons, and this was the last straw.

“I’m sure. She needs to learn a lesson that we don’t take things that don’t belong to us,” Lisa didn’t give in, and held her hand out to receive the heavy, wood like surface that made a loud thud as it hit her hand, “I’m going to teach you a lesson once and for all!”

“She’s got a point, Lia,” Kim chimed in while sharing a knowing look with the Swiss woman.

Kyra’s eyes widened in surprise and her pulse quickened, "N... No, not that!"

“You deserve this, you little brat. You pushed limits, therefore now you’re going to learn.” Before Kyra could protest further, the first swat landed, “You’ll think twice about the next time you try and take something that doesn’t belong to you, won’t you?”

The sharp sting across her backside caused her to jump in shock, and her breath hitched, “Ow!” she gasped, her body instinctively shifting, but Lisa held her steady.

The pain was more intense than anything Kyra had anticipated. The sharp smack echoed around the otherwise silent locker room, and a lump formed in her throat. Lisa’s grip tightened as she delivered the second swat, harder than the first.

“Listen to me,” Lisa’s voice was still calm, but the authority was undeniable as she continued to reign down the paddle on Kyra, “You dare take anything that doesn’t belong to you again, and things will be a lot worse.”

Kyra’s bravado cracked as she whimpered, her face reddening with both the sting of the smacks and the humiliation of being put in this position, “Ow! Let me… Let me go!” The girl is near to hysterical sobs, thrashing around and trying to wriggle free, but Lisa’s grip on her keeps her there, “I’m… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean it. Let me go!”

“Do something,” Leah tried to get Lia to intervene, not liking the fact that her little sister was in this position, “This is too much. Mommy, help her!”

Lia looked at Lisa with a face full of concern, “Lisa, I think she’s learnt her lesson now. That’s enough.”

However, Lisa didn’t listen to Lia’s words and continued.

“You need to learn,” Lisa repeated as she continued to use the paddle on the young Australian girl that was now completely hysterical, “You might be new to this team, but you will show respect!”

“Kim,” Lia sent Kim a pleading look for her help.

“I think that’s enough now Lisa,” Kim intervened, seeing that Lisa wasn’t going to give in any time at all, “Kyra has learnt her lesson now. That’s enough .”

Lisa barely heard Kim’s words, her relentless need to protect her own baby girl outweighed her current actions, and therefore she didn’t realise how brash she was with the younger Australian girl.

“I said that’s enough, Lisa,” Kim repeated, stepping forward to reach out and take the paddle directly out of Lisa’s hands to stop her from using it any further, and tossed it aside out of the way, “Can’t you see how upset she is?”

“She’s not been punished enough, Kim. The little brat needs to learn her lesson,” Lisa responded with a bite in the tone of her voice.

“No, she’s been punished enough already,” Kim stated, firmly as she attempted to coax Kyra into her own arms, “Come here, sweetheart. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Her soothing words did very little to calm down the sobbing girl.

Kyra was quick to flinch at the close contact, scrambling away from Lisa to a corner where she curled up in a small ball, “N… No, don’t hurt me,” she whimpered, fearful of being hurt again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart,” Kim tried to reassure the younger girl, gently scooping Kyra up into her arms and carrying her while the younger girl tried to fight her way out of Kim’s grasp, “We’re just going to see your mommy, okay? You’re safe, you’re okay.”

“Come here, baby,” Lia cooed, hating to see her girl so upset and scared once again, just like when she first joined the team, “Come to mommy, angel.”

“Mommy,” Kyra whimpered, tearful as she was still a bit reluctant to be near Lia in case she was punished any further, “N… No more, I don’t want– I’ve learnt my lesson, I’m sorry, Mommy!” she pleaded as she was settled in Lia’s arms.

“Oh I know you are, baby girl,” Lia continued to coo as she held Kyra in her arms and rocked her, “Shh, you’re alright now, it’s over.”

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it,” Kyra’s sobs wracked her entire body, feeling completely terrified, “I… I didn’t. Don’t let her hurt me again!”

“I know, you’ve been punished and you’re forgiven now,” Lia smoothed a stray piece of Kyra’s hair out of her face, her voice soft and reassuring as she gently pressed a kiss to Kyra’s temple, “Mommy’s here now, baby. No one’s going to hurt you anymore, I promise, angel.”

Kyra clung to Lia tightly, burying her tear-streaked face into her chest. Her small hiccuping sobs echoed through the quiet locker room, each one tugging at Lia’s heart.

Meanwhile, Kim shot Lisa a disapproving glare, “You went too far, Lisa,” she muttered under her breath, “There was no need for that.”

Lisa’s shoulders sagged as the weight of her actions hit her, she looked over at Kyra, who was trembling in Lia’s arms, “I didn’t mean too, I just…” she started, but Kim cut her off.

“Intent doesn’t erase the damage,” Kim said firmly, “Just look at her, Lisa, she’s terrified. That’s not how we handle things on this team.”

“I know, I just… She upset Viv, and I just didn’t think,” Lisa stuttered her words, realising the damage that had been caused now since Kyra clung to Lia with an iron-clad grip.

“Now’s not the time for this,” Lia spoke up as she continued to rock Kyra in her arms to calm her down from the hysterical sobs she was letting out, “We can talk about this later. Right now, I need to take care of Kyra, and that’s all that matters.”

Leah had taken the chance to retrieve Kyra’s own koala stuffie out of her back and tried to coax it into her hands, “Here Ky, here’s Bill,” she gestured to the small animal stuffie, “I thought you might like him right now?”

“Bill,” Kyra murmured quietly, not hesitating to take the stuffie from the blonde and hold it close in her arms, “Thanks, Le.”

“You’re welcome, Ky,” Leah gave her a soft and reassuring smile.

Kyra peeked up at Lia, her eyes red and swollen, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt Viv, Mommy.” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know you didn’t mean too, baby,” Lia reassured her, still rocking her gently, “You just got a bit carried away now, didn’t you? How about you apologise to Viv when you feel ready?” she suggested softly, stroking her hair.

“N… No,” Kyra sniffled and shook her head frantically, her voice muffled against Lia’s chest. The thought of apologising to Viv, when Lisa was still there, was somewhat terrifying to her still, “I… I don’t want to do it.”

“Shh, baby,” Lia could see how worked up Kyra still felt and smoothed her hair down away from her face, “That’s alright, you don’t have too yet, not if you’re not ready. You can take your time.” she added.

Viv was now back sitting with Lisa, held in her arms with Flip clutched tightly in her arms. Her own tears had slowed, but she still looked visibly shaken.

Lisa took one glance between Viv and Kyra, guilt written over her face, “I don’t think it is a good idea right now,” she murmured, realising she had let her own emotions take control.

“For once, I agree with you there,” Lia’s voice held a certain sting to it still as she spoke to the Scottish woman, not happy with her at all.

The tension in the locker room was palpable as everyone tried to process what had just unfolded. The usual camaraderie felt fractured, replaced with a mix of guilt, protectiveness, and unease.

Lia continued to rock Kyra gently, her soothing murmurs softening the younger girl’s whimpers, “Shh, sweetheart. You’re okay. Mommy’s here, and it’s all over now.” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Kyra’s forehead.

Kim, meanwhile, kept her gaze trained on Lisa, “We can’t let things escalate like that again, Lisa,” she said, her voice firm but quieter now, trying not to add to the stress of the moment, “This team is a family, and we don’t solve problems by breaking each other. You crossed the line here, Lisa.”

“I know,” Lisa exhaled heavily, running a hand through her hair and her voice tight with regret, before she peered down at Viv in her arms with Flip tucked into her, “I just got protective of her and I lost control, I guess I went about it the wrong way.” she admitted, rubbing the Dutch’s arm protectively in an effort to soothe her further.

“You think?” Leah muttered under her breath, feeling somewhat protective over Kyra as she resisted the urge to scowl at Lisa.

“Le,” Lia fixed the blonde with a pointed look, as for her to not get involved while she continued to sooth Kyra in her arms.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” Leah insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lia continued to shake her head in disagreement, “That’s enough of that, alright?”

“Alright,” Leah exhaled a sigh, but still feeling somewhat protective over Kyra, she wanted to make it known that she was mad with Lisa for hurting Kyra in the way she did, “I’m still mad at her though.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to get yourself in trouble,” Lia spoke quiet words with Leah, she knew the blonde would be protective over Kyra but she needed to reign her in so she wouldn’t end up talking herself into trouble.

“Maybe I should step out of the room?” Lisa muttered, her voice low and regretful, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be here right now.”

“I think that might be a good idea for now,” Kim agreed, casting a glance over to Kyra, who was still trembling in Lia’s embrace, “You can leave Vivi with me. I’ll take care of her.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Lisa mumbled, though she was hesitant to leave Viv with the older Scottish woman but she knew she could trust her “Baby, Mama’s going to go out of the room for a bit, but you’re going to stay with Kim, okay?”

“Mama, no… Don’t go,” Viv whined, weary about Lisa leaving her.

“You’re alright, you’re going to be fine,” Lisa insisted as she passed Viv over to Kim, who accepted her with a quiet, reassuring smile, “I just need to leave the room, okay? Stay with Kim, liefje.” she told her, gently.

Kim settled Viv on her lap, her arm securely wrapping around the younger woman as she whispered soothing reassurances in her ear, “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she murmured, her tone calm and grounding, “I’ve got you. Your Mama will be back soon.”

Viv sniffled, burying her face against Kim’s shoulder while her grip on the older woman tightened, “Mama,” she trembled slightly, clearly struggling to process the sudden intensity of the situation.

“You’re safe, Vivi,” Kim said softly, gently stroking her back in a slow, rhythmic motion, her touch both firm and comforting, “Mama just needs a moment to breathe, and so do you. Let’s focus on calming down, okay?”

From across the room, Lia continued to hold Kyra close, her hand gently running through her hair in an attempt to soothe her. Kyra’s trembling was beginning to subside, though her face still remained buried in Lia’s chest.

The protective stance Lia had adopted was unyielding, her sharp gaze briefly flicking toward Lisa as she hesitated in the doorway.

Lisa faltered, glancing back at Viv and Kim before she finally stepped out of the room, though the hesitation in her movements spoke volume. Once the door clicked shut, a heavy silence settled over the room, only broken by Viv’s quiet hiccups and Kyra’s uneven breathing.

“How’s she doing?” Kim glanced up at Lia, her expression neutral but her tone firm.

“Getting there,” Lia replied, her voice clipped but gentle, “Kyra, baby, breathe with me, okay? In… and out. Mommy’s got you.”

Kyra nodded faintly and began mirroring Lia’s slow, exaggerated breaths, though her grip on the Swiss woman remained as tight as ever.

“That’s a good girl,” Lia murmured, smoothing Kyra’s hair out of her face, “Keep breathing like that for Mommy, alright? I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, baby.”

“M… Mommy,” Kyra mumbled, tearful but the trembling had stopped now, although her face still remained red from crying.

“I’m here, Ky,” Lia reassured her as she continued to rub soothing circles on her back, “Do you know what you need to do now?” Lia asked gently, her voice soft enough to avoid overwhelming her.

Kyra nodded slightly, her gaze fixed on the floor, “Yeah…” she murmured, though her voice was quiet and tentative.

“Good girl,” Lia said encouragingly, tucking a stray strand of the younger girl's hair behind her ear, “You go ahead when you’re ready then, okay?”

Kyra sighed and bit her bottom lip, she knew what Lia meant but she still felt a twinge of resistance, “Do I have to?” she whispered.

“It’s important baby,” Lia responded, in a tone of voice that was kind but still held firmness behind it, “I know you didn’t mean to take Flip from Vivi, but you did and now you need to apologise, please.”

After a moment of silence, Kyra nodded in agreement, “Okay…” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lia gave her a gentle and encouraging pat on the back, “Good girl, Ky. I’m right here, if you need me.”

With a deep breath, Kyra slowly stood up and made her way over towards Viv, who was nestled on Kim’s lap with Flip tucked in her arms.

“Vivi…” Kyra mumbled, trying to engage with Viv although the Dutch were apprehensive, proceeding to hide Flip so Kyra wouldn’t be able to take him again, “I… I’m sorry for Flip, I didn’t mean to do it, and I… I didn’t mean to make you sad either.”

Viv clung tightly to Flip, her gaze flickering between Kyra and Kim. She still looked cautious, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

“Mommy,” Kyra turned back round to face Lia, shuffling awkwardly on her feet, “I said I was sorry!”

“I know, baby. You did well,” Lia praised Kyra from where she sat.

“Vivi,” Kim gave Viv’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, “What do we say when someone apologises?” she prompted softly, her voice a quiet nudge rather than a push.

“I… I forgive you,” Viv whispered, glancing up at Kim before returning her gaze to Kyra, “But… Flip’s mine, not for you to take.”

Kyra nodded quickly, her hands fidgeting as she fought back the urge to reach out and make things better physically, “I know. I won’t touch him again,” she told her, “I promise.”

Viv looked at her, still continuing to clutch Flip close, but her expression softened just a little, “Okay…” she said quietly, although there was still a trace of wariness in her eyes, “Just don’t do it again.”

Kyra’s shoulders slumped in relief as she glanced over at Lia, who smiled gently at her, “Good job, baby.” The Swiss woman said, her voice warm and encouraging.

“Thanks, Mommy,” Kyra whispered, her shoulders relaxing as a faint but genuine smile appeared on her face, “Cuddles now?”

“You can have a cuddle now,” Lia said softly, as she reached out and gently pulled Kyra back into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around the younger girl in a comforting embrace, “I’m really proud of you for apologising to Vivi.”

Once Kyra was securely wrapped in Lia’s arms, feeling the warmth and comfort of her embrace, Viv suddenly began squirming in Kim’s lap, her eyes fixed on the door.

Kim noticed Viv’s shift immediately as her hand rested gently on her shoulder, “Vivi, where are you going, sweetheart?”

“I want Mama,” Viv mumbled, her gaze remaining fixed on the door as her small frame twitched with impatience, “I want to go and find her.”

Kim’s heart softened at the sight of Viv’s determination, but she also understood the fragility of the situation, “Your Mama isn’t far, Vivi. She’s just outside the room, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

The need to go to Lisa was almost palpable for Viv, as if that was the one thing that would make everything feel right again, “Mama,” she mumbled, wiggling out of Kim’s lap with determination, her small hands pushing against the floor as she stood up, her balance unsteady but resolute.

Viv’s legs wobbled slightly as she toddled toward the door, her determined expression set on reaching Lisa. The hallway felt almost too long to her, but she was soon able to catch a glimpse of Lisa, who had her back turned, leaning against the wall just outside the room.

Lisa’s shoulders were hunched, her head was lowered and she didn’t hear Viv’s soft footsteps approaching, too lost in her own emotions. Her hands were pressed against her face and her own sobs were muffled.

“Mama…” Viv whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she stepped forward, reaching her hand out.

Lisa froze, her whole body tensed as she recognised the voice as she slowly lowered her hands from her face, her eyes swollen from crying as her expression was a mixture of sadness and guilt, “Oh, Vivi,” she whispered, turning towards Viv with a faint, shaky smile appearing on her face despite the tears that still clung to her cheeks, “Did you come out here to find me?”

Viv nodded, her hands reaching up to grasp at Lisa’s outstretched arms, “Don’t cry, Mama. I don’t like to see you sad.” she mumbled, her voice thick with her own emotion.

Lisa’s tears seemed to flow harder at that, her heart breaking all over again, “I’m sorry, Vivi,” she whispered, pulling the younger girl into her arms and hugging her tightly, the overwhelming emotions of the day pouring out in the safety of this moment, “Mama’s only upset with herself.”

“Why are you crying?” Viv questioned as she clung to her, the sound of her Mama’s voice calming the storm inside of her, though her voice still sounded small and uncertain, “I don’t like it when you cry.”

“I… I’m just sad, liefje,” Lisa explained, her fingers threading through Viv’s hair as she held her close, “I’m upset with myself, because I… I just made a complete mess of things. I got so protective over seeing you upset, and took it out on Kyra back there.”

Viv didn’t understand the full extent of Lisa’s own guilt, but she could feel pain radiating off her and she wanted to make everything better, to try and fix Lisa’s sadness, “It’s okay, Mama,” she whispered, her voice small and full of innocence, “I still love you.”

Lisa squeezed her a little tighter, trying to steady her own breathing as she wiped the remaining tears from her face, “Thank you, Vivi,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “I love you too. So much.”

The two of them continued to stand there for a moment, holding each other in the hallway as their quiet sobs mingled with the sound of distant conversation behind the door.

Lisa had no idea how she would make things right again, but with Viv in her arms, the weight of the world felt a little easier to bear.

“I’ll make it right, Vivi,” Lisa reassured the Dutch girl as she continued to thread her fingers through her hair, “I promise I’ll make it better.”

#the arsenal submissions #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso series #behind the kit #player x player

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russellsppttemplates · 2 years ago

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So good to see you round here again! Would you write something about Pierre and his wife having fun and being all flirty-sassy-touchy? Like say they're on vacation or going to a concert or something, as long as they're having FUN!

"Do you have everything?", Pierre asked as he grabbed the room key card from the hotel room's desk, "I just need to grab the sunscreen, one second", you said as you walked inside the bathroom, grabbing the small clear bag with the beach products.

Walking with your hand holding your husband's, you chose the sunbeds and umbrella that was in a good spot, away from the crowded area but still close to the sea, "I need your help to rub this in my back, please", you asked him, handing him the spray bottle so he could rub the product on your skin, "P, we're in public, no grabbing like that", you snickered, swatting his hand away when it went straight to your butt, "Why? You can't blame me my wife looks amazing in this", he playfully fiddled with the straps, "hey!", you giggled, holding the fabric close to your body, worried he would actually free the tension on the knot, "don't worry, amour. Everything about you is beautiful, but that doesn't mean I want to share you with the rest of the world".

Pierre had gone to the bar to get you drinks since the sun was shinning beautifully and you were in need for a refreshment, "Can I offer you a drink?", he said nonchalantly, "Oh, I'm not sure how my husband will react to that", you pointed out, going along with him, "I'm sure he is a lucky guy", he said as he handed you the cup, waiting for you to get comfortable so you could hold it, "I think I'm the luckiest one", you said, puckering your lips so you could kiss him.

Pierre and Charles often joked that you were a child magnet: despite your beliefs and doubts about your capacity to handle children, you always seemed to attract them wherever you went. Wether it was in the paddock or at any family gathering, the kids would naturally gravitate towards you, wanting you to play with them and now it wasn't any different. When you went to for a dip in the ocean to cool your body, a little boy went to play with you, showing you his sand castle kit and asked you to play with him, his parents near him and excusing their son for bothering you while you said you didn't mind. The boy kept giggling, making you laugh in return, warming Pierre's heart as he felt you were content, happy and relaxed, until the parents announced they would have to leave since they had booked a table for lunch, leaving the little boy in tears, opening his arms for a hug from you to bid goodbye.

"I see you have a new boyfriend, hm? You were so worried about your husband just then and puff... I'm chop change now", he teased you, holding your waist and making your body collide with his, "careful! I'm wet and scratchy from playing in the sand", you giggled, swatting your hands on one another to shake the sand off, "I never had any problem when you are wet, mon coeur, we both know that", he winked, kissing the top of your head while you laughed.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

#pierre gasly blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb

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fleecepeachfur · 2 months ago

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Creative Uses for Bulk Picnic Blankets Beyond Picnics

When you think of picnic blankets, the first image that comes to mind might be a sunny park, a wicker basket, and a spread of delicious food. While picnic blankets shine in these classic scenarios, their versatility extends far beyond picnics. If you’ve purchased picnic blankets in bulk, you’re sitting on a treasure trove of possibilities (quite literally). Let’s explore the many creative ways these humble blankets can be utilised.

1. Beachside Bliss

A day at the beach is always better with the right gear, and picnic blankets are no exception. Their size, durability, and often waterproof backing make them perfect for sandy adventures. Bulk buying ensures your business, event, or group can enjoy comfort by the sea. From yoga sessions on the beach to family outings, having a ready supply of blankets transforms any shoreline escapade into an organised and comfortable experience.

2. Outdoor Movie Nights

Hosting an outdoor movie night? Roll out those bulk picnic blankets for seating that’s cosy and uniform. Guests will appreciate a clean, designated spot to relax as they enjoy their popcorn and flick. Plus, a neat row of matching blankets adds a polished touch to your event. Extra points if they’re branded!

3. Festival Essentials

Outdoor music festivals are a magnet for picnic blankets. They’re ideal for staking out a comfortable spot in the crowd. If your company is sponsoring an event, offering branded blankets not only enhances the attendee experience but also boosts your brand’s visibility. Buying picnic blanket bulk means you’ll have enough to make a memorable impression.

4. School and Community Events

Schools and community organisations can get a lot of mileage out of picnic blankets. Whether it’s a field day, a PTA meeting, or a charity event, blankets provide a versatile solution for seating or giveaways. Plus, kids love having their own space to sit on during outdoor activities. If you’re looking for an economical way to enhance such gatherings, bulk picnic blankets are the answer.

5. Camping Comfort

If your organisation caters to the outdoor enthusiast crowd, bulk picnic blankets are a must. These blankets serve as ground covers, extra insulation under sleeping bags, or even as makeshift shelters. They’re lightweight, easy to pack, and incredibly useful for a variety of camping scenarios.

6. Corporate Gifting with a Twist

Want to impress your clients or employees? A picnic blanket is a thoughtful gift that’s both functional and unique. Add your company logo and voila! You’ve created a keepsake that’s perfect for picnics, sports games, or simply lounging in the backyard. The key is buying in bulk to keep costs low while making a big impact.

7. Pet-Friendly Perks

Have a furry friend in the family? Picnic blankets are fantastic for pets. Use them as car seat protectors, bed liners, or outdoor mats. If you’re running a pet-friendly business or event, branded picnic blankets can be a hit with pet owners. Offering a practical, pet-approved item is a surefire way to win hearts (and paws).

8. Fitness and Wellness Events

From yoga in the park to outdoor meditation sessions, picnic blankets offer a stable, comfortable surface for participants. They’re also an excellent giveaway item for fitness brands or wellness retreats. Buying picnic blankets bulk ensures you’re well-prepared for any event while keeping costs manageable.

9. Emergency Preparedness

Here’s one you might not have considered: picnic blankets are incredibly handy for emergency kits. Durable and lightweight, they can act as thermal covers, ground barriers, or even improvised shelters. Stocking up on picnic blankets in bulk ensures your organisation can provide support in unexpected situations, be it for employees or the wider community.

10. Creative Marketing Opportunities

Finally, picnic blankets offer a creative canvas for marketing. Beyond branding, think about incorporating QR codes or fun designs that align with your campaign. Whether they’re used at a promotional event or given as a gift, picnic blankets can help your message stand out.

Why Bulk Picnic Blankets Make Sense

If these creative uses have sparked your imagination, it’s clear why buying in bulk is a smart move. Not only does it save money, but it also ensures you’re ready for any occasion. Whether you’re planning an event, running a business, or simply looking for a versatile product, picnic blankets tick all the boxes.

When sourcing your blankets, consider factors like material, durability, and design. Opt for options that align with your needs, whether it’s waterproof backing for outdoor use or plush fabric for comfort. And don’t forget to explore customisation options to make them uniquely yours.

Final Thoughts

From outdoor movie nights to pet-friendly perks, picnic blankets in bulk offer endless possibilities. Their versatility and affordability make them a go-to solution for businesses, organisations, and event planners. So, the next time you think of picnic blankets, remember—they’re more than just a square of fabric; they’re an opportunity.

Curious to learn more about the benefits of bulk picnic blankets? Loop back to the first article in our series: "Why Buy Picnic Blankets in Bulk for Your Events?"

#picnic blankets in bulk #picnic blanket bulk #picnic blankets bulk

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captureatripsblog · 1 year ago

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Biking Through the Himalayas: Leh Ladakh Bike Trip Excursion

Introduction to Leh Ladakh Bike Trip:

Gear up for the adventure of a lifetime as you embark on a Leh Ladakh bike trip package, an exhilarating journey through the majestic Himalayas. Experience the thrill of riding amidst breathtaking landscapes, ancient monasteries, and rugged terrain as you explore the beauty of Ladakh on two wheels.

Hassle-Free Booking Process:

Booking your Leh Ladakh bike trip is simple and convenient with our streamlined process:

Choose Your Dates: Select your preferred travel dates from our available options.

Reserve Your Spot: Book your bike trip online or through our dedicated customer service team.

Confirmation: Receive instant confirmation of your booking and start gearing up for your unforgettable adventure!

Inclusions in the Bike Trip Excursion:

Our bike trip excursion includes everything you need for a seamless and thrilling journey:

Well-Maintained Bikes: Ride in style and comfort with our fleet of well-maintained bikes suited for the rugged terrain of Ladakh.

Accommodations: Rest easy in comfortable accommodations throughout your trip, providing a cozy retreat after each day's ride.

Support Vehicle: Ride with peace of mind knowing that a support vehicle will accompany you throughout your journey, offering assistance in case of any emergencies.

Experienced Guide: Explore Ladakh with the guidance of an experienced local guide who will lead you to the region's most iconic landmarks and hidden gems.

Meals: Enjoy delicious meals featuring local and international cuisine, ensuring you stay energized for the road ahead.

Highlights of the Journey:

Conquer High Mountain Passes: Ride over legendary passes like Khardung La, Chang La, and Taglang La, each offering stunning views and thrilling descents.

Explore Ancient Monasteries: Visit ancient monasteries such as Hemis, Thiksey, and Diskit, and immerse yourself in the rich cultural heritage of Ladakh.

Marvel at Natural Wonders: Witness the breathtaking beauty of Pangong Lake, Nubra Valley, Magnetic Hill, and other iconic landmarks that define the charm of Ladakh.

Encounter Local Culture: Interact with friendly locals, sample traditional Ladakhi cuisine, and learn about the unique customs and traditions of the region.

Day-by-Day Itinerary:

Day 1: Arrival in Leh

Arrive in Leh and acclimatize to the altitude.

Explore the vibrant markets and historic sites of Leh at your leisure.

Day 2-3: Leh Sightseeing

Embark on guided tours to ancient monasteries, palaces, and stupas, soaking in the rich cultural heritage of the region.

Enjoy leisure time to explore Leh town and interact with locals.

Day 4: Nubra Valley Excursion

Ride through the scenic Khardung La Pass to reach the enchanting Nubra Valley.

Visit Diskit Monastery, explore Hunder village, and enjoy a camel safari amidst the sand dunes.

Day 5: Pangong Lake Expedition

Set off on a thrilling ride to Pangong Lake, marveling at its stunning turquoise waters and surrounding vistas.

Spend time exploring the lakeshore and capturing breathtaking views of the Himalayas.

Day 6: Departure from Leh

Bid farewell to Leh and transfer to the airport for your return journey, carrying memories of an unforgettable bike trip through Ladakh.

Tips for an Unforgettable Ride:

Stay Hydrated: Drink plenty of water to stay hydrated, especially at high altitudes.

Ride Safely: Observe traffic rules, wear protective gear, and ride at a comfortable pace.

Be Prepared: Carry essentials like sunscreen, sunglasses, and a first aid kit.

Embrace the Journey: Stay open to new experiences and immerse yourself fully in the beauty and culture of Ladakh.

Capture Memories: Bring a camera or smartphone to capture the breathtaking scenery and unforgettable moments of your bike trip.

Embark on an epic adventure through the Himalayas with our Leh Ladakh bike trip excursion. With hassle-free booking, expert guidance, and curated experiences, your journey promises to be an unforgettable exploration of the stunning landscapes and rich culture of Ladakh.

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thenhscenter · 1 month ago

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Magnetic Spot Comfort Kit – Targeted Pain Relief Solution

Experience effective, non-invasive pain relief with our Magnetic Spot Comfort Kit. Designed to provide targeted magnetic therapy, this kit helps alleviate discomfort in specific areas, promoting natural healing and enhanced well-being.

#Magnetic Spot Comfort Kit

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newprettyshop · 2 years ago

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How Accessories For The Home Play an Important Role in Daily Chores

The Purpose of Home Accessories

The objective of accessories for the home is to improve a living area in terms of its usability, level of comfort, and overall visual appeal. Throw pillows, vases, and candles are minor home accessories, while area rugs, artwork, and furniture are examples of more prominent home accessories. Home accessories are ornamental objects used to adorn and customize a home.

Accessorizing your home with trinkets can accomplish multiple tasks:

They can inject a room with new color, texture, and visual intrigue, making the space more appealing and inviting.

They may offer some practical advantages, such as increasing the amount of available illumination, enhancing storage space, or establishing an area with comfortable seats.

They can represent the owner's personality and sense of style, making the room feel more personal and distinctive to the home's occupants.

Home accessories, in general, are an essential component of interior design and ease of house chores as they contribute to forming a consistent and tastefully created living environment that caters to the requirements and inclinations of the homeowner.

Different Types of Home Accessories

In as much as they streamline and simplify daily chores, home accessories are essential to any residence. On the market today, there is a vast selection of adornments for the home, each of which is designed to serve a certain purpose. Here, we will list some popular home items and wise financial investments.

Those concerned about their health must have a 13-ounce USB rechargeable fruit blender. This USB-rechargeable handheld blender is excellent for churning protein drinks and smoothies on the road. Because of its small size, it is easy to transport, allowing you to bring nutritious snacks or meals with you everywhere you go.

The magnetic wristband is a popular accessory that is ideal for individuals who are interested in tool-related projects. This practical device helps you to keep screws, nails, and other small metal objects within easy reach, eliminating the need to repeatedly bend down and pick up screws, nails, and other small metal objects from the floor. The magnetic wristband can be changed to accommodate individuals with varied wrist sizes while being comfortable.

If you prioritize personal hygiene, a toothbrush holder with an integrated UV sterilizer is a fantastic choice. This device uses UV-C light to destroy 99.9% of germs and bacteria on your toothbrush. The toothbrush will then be clean and ready for use. The holder is simple to assemble and can handle numerous types of toothbrushes.

Everyone who considers themselves an avid cleaner must have a drill scrubber brush kit. This kit includes a variety of brush heads that can be added to your drill, making it easy to scrape away dirt and grime from hard-to-reach spots. The package can be applied on numerous surfaces, including carpets, tiles, and grout.

A cat window bed is a fantastic addition to any home with a cat buddy. This bed may be mounted to a window in your home, providing your furry friend companion with a comfy area to sleep and enjoy the view outside. The bed is simple to install and great for cats who prefer napping in the sun's rays.

To Conclude

There is a broad range of designs and functions among accessories for the home in numerous shapes and sizes. Whether you are a stickler for cleanliness, a neatnik, or a health freak, the market is rife with things designed for each personality type. Investing in these items makes your daily activities easier, more efficient, and more enjoyable.

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chocosvt · 4 years ago

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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moonlit-reveriee · 4 years ago

Note

Hey there Moon, if your requests are still open, could you do a C!Techno x Female! Reader who’s a total badass with weapons? Like she’s quick and agile with a bow and sword?

Hope you have a wonderful day/night! ^^

A Lover, and a Fighter

technoblade x fem!reader

this story was really fun to write, and i think it came out pretty cute. thank you for your request, and your patience. i hope you enjoy!

content warning // SFW, mention of drinking alcohol, description of fighting (no mention of blood or injury)

listen to this while you read: Notos by The Oh Hellos

───※ ·❆· ※───

***this story takes place during & after the revolution against Dante, with the headcanon that Hypixel takes the form of a medieval kingdom within the same universe as the dsmp***

It had been a long time since Techno had visited Hypixel, and even longer since he had taken the time to observe any of the fighters being trained there. He wasn’t surprised to see many unfamiliar faces amongst the crowds battling against Dante. But one figure in particular grabbed his attention.

As he soared through the air, launched upwards by the shockwaves of Dante’s movements, he noticed someone standing on top of a nearby building. A warrior with bow and arrow held upwards to the sky, their aim remaining steady despite the tremors that shook the earth. They leapt to the ground, swiftly pulling out a sword and began chopping down several of Dante’s goons with a single swipe.

Even in the heat of battle, he couldn’t help but be impressed. There was a deadly accuracy to all of their movements. It showed tremendous skill, and dedication to honing their abilities.

Once Dante had been defeated, Techno stayed behind to aid in Hypixel’s recovery. He walked around the battlefield strewn with debris. He shook the hand of every revolutionary he could find, secretly searching for the warrior he had seen upon the rooftops.

After a while, he was able to spot them in the crowds. A woman helping clear rubble from the destroyed community center, familiar bow and sword strapped across her back.

“Thank you for your aid in the revolution”, he said as he approached, offering a hand for her to take. She accepted it with a grip strong enough to rival his own.

“I would do anything to rid Hypixel of Dante’s corruption”, she spoke with confidence. She released his hand and turned her attention back to the rubble, lifting a wooden beam over her shoulder with ease.

“I noticed the way you fought”, he continued, bending over to pick up a piece of broken cobblestone, “you seem very skilled.”

She glanced at him from the side, mouth curving upwards into a very slight smirk.

“That’s quite the compliment coming from the blood god himself.”

“I understand good fighting when I see it”, he said with a shrug. She squinted her eyes at him, almost suspicious.

“It would be foolish of me to turn down such a compliment”, she said as she walked off towards the pile of discarded wood. He chased after her, watching her drop the beam off her shoulders with a heavy thud.

“What is your name?”, he asked when she turned to face him. She paused, quickly looking I’m up and down. She seemed skeptical of his interest in her, and maybe that was fair.

“y/n”, she said, crossing her arms.

“Would you like to duel, y/n?”, he blurted out impulsively. Her eyes widened, noticing the way he was blushing out of embarrassment.

“Are you flirting with me, Sir Blade?”, mischievous grin spreading across her face.

He sputtered, blush deepening on his cheeks while she laughed boisterously.

“Let’s clean up first”, she clapped an armored hand over his shoulder with a loud metal clank, “meet me at the duels arena in a few days.” She walked past him, leaving him to twist around and watch her back as she left.

Techno ended up seeing her again before their duel. Members of the revolution were meeting in a local tavern to celebrate, and he found her lounging in a quiet corner of the bar. Tankard in her hand, she happily watched the other members of the guild drunkenly trip over themselves. He didn’t approach her, at least not at first.

Later in the evening, a man sidled up to her table. Techno couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it seemed like she was trying to politely shoo him away. Clearly drunk out of his mind, he reached out a hand and forcibly cupped her cheek. Techno stood up from his seat, ready to yank the man back by his collar. Before he could, she grabbed his hand and bent his arm backwards behind his head. The man was sent to his knees, wincing in pain.

“I said don’t touch me”, she sneered, “learn to follow my words when I say them nicely.”

She released the man’s hand, allowing him to stumble away with a steely glare. Once he was throughly out of her sight, she turned her attention to where Techno had begun to approach her.

“I appreciate your help, even though it was unneeded”, she sighed heavily.

“Does this happen often?”, he asked.

“Not really”, she said, “I guess the guys here think plate armor is attractive.”

“It’s probably the only clothes they’ve seen a woman in”, he joked. She chuckled lightly, the sound surprisingly sweet compared to her demeanor.

“Would you like a drink?”, she offered once her laughter had subsided.

“Ah, I would”, he sighed, “but let me cover it, I insist.”

“No”, she said firmly, “I’m sure everyone here wants to buy you a drink. Allow it to be me for tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, noticing the flash of determination in her eye. He gave her a nod, surrendering to her wishes. She bought two pints of honeyed ale, sweet and subtly floral. They drank in comfortable silence, watching the absolutely wasted tavern goers make fools of themselves.

Time passed, and day of their duel arrived. The damage from Dante’s attack had finally been cleared and construction of the destroyed buildings began. Techno felt calm as he strode through the familiar courtyards of Hypixel’s training grounds, which surprised him. For some reason, he expected to be nervous. But at the same time, there was nothing to be nervous about, right? This was just a friendly duel between friends. Just friends who have only known each other for a few days.

His felt his stomach twist. Maybe he was nervous.

When he entering the arena, he found her already waiting for him, clad in a simpler set of armor than the one she wore to fight Dante. She waved her arm upon noticing his entrance, bright and crooked smile on her face.

“Are you ready to duel, Sir Blade?”, she called across the field. Something about that nickname made his heart glow.

“Only if you are, y/n.”

“Oh, I’m ready to get my ass kicked.”

“Hey now”, he retorted playfully, “I think you will put up a good fight.”

“We’ll see”, she shrugged, stretching her arms to warm up the muscles.

“Standard kit?”, he questioned, “diamond armor, sword and bow?”

“As long as it’s not a crossbow. I haven’t figured those fuckers out yet”, she muttered.

He nodded, donning a set of armor to match hers. They took stances at opposite sides of the arena. She already had a bow in hand, arrow cocked and ready. Techno had dueled one on one many times. Some more stress-inducing than other. The anticipation of this fight made his fingers tingle with excitement. A bell began to toll. Standard practice for training duels: on the fourth chime, the fight began.

An arrow whizzed from its string, narrowly missing him as he strafed right and began moving in a wide curve towards her. She switched to her sword, ready to meet his in a clang of metal against metal.

They traded blows almost evenly. While Techno’s sword swung with immense strength behind it, hers was agile and precise. When she landed a hit, it was because she could aim her sword exactly where the armor was weakest. When their swords became interlocked, she made eye contact and grinned wildly. His concentration fell, and she seized the opportunity to disengage and put some distance between them.

From her newfound position, she returned to her bow and began firing shots with a deadly accuracy. When fighting with others around his skill level, Techno liked to wear them down. Hiding and running away, giving him a chance to recover while they chased. Now, however, his strategy was being challenged. Her skill with a bow was outstanding, even at very long distances. There were very few places he could hide that she couldn’t hit.

Their reached a point where the battle was at a stalemate. They had returned to sword combat, a heavy sheen on sweat on their brows. She parried a blow from him, but he pushed back with any remaining strength he had left, sending her staggering back wards. She gritted her teeth, running forwards suddenly with a ferocious scream. It surprised him so much he barely reacted as she slammed into him right at the waist and tackled him to the ground.

He twisted to land on his side, causing her to fall on the ground next to him. They both panted, making no move to stand up.

“I-“, she gasped, “I’ve never done that before.” He huffed out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows and offering a hand to help her sit up as well.

“That was a good fight”, he said after they’d both caught their breath.

“Thank you”, she said, removing her helmet and wiping away the strands of hair that stuck to her face, “I didn’t expect to win, but a draw is good enough for me… Thank you for giving me the chance.”

“You fight very different from me”, he said while shaking the hair out of his face, “I was curious to see how it would go. You’ll have to show me some of those sword techniques, they’re great.”

She smiled, puffing up a little bit at the praise. Her hand came up to brush away some of the dust that stuck to the side of his face. She seemed to do it subconsciously, because her eyes widened at the realization and she moved her hand away quickly. In a heat of the moment decision he grabbed her hand in midair, holding it in his own. Her eyes met his and the seconds seemed to stretch.

Something drew him, like a magnetic force, to lean in and press a kiss to her lips. It was relatively quick, but it felt so much longer to him. When he pulled away, she blinked at him. Her cheeks were pink, but he was unsure whether it was from the kiss or the fighting.

“I should have asked first, shouldn’t I?”, he said after clearing his throat.

“No, no”, she replied, still slightly dazed, “you’re fine.”

“I don’t know why-“, he stuttered, “I doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, we can just forget it happened.”

“I-“, she paused, “… I think I’d like to remember it actually.”

The grip on his hand tightened, and Techno felt butterflies in his chest.

“I think my mind’s going a little foggy”, she continued, “could you remind me?”

It took far longer than it should have for his brain to process her words. When the gears finally clicked, a dry laugh escaped his lips.

“Are you flirting with me, dear?”, he retorted.

She laughed, a joyous and melodic sound. He cut her off before she could finish, causing her to giggle against his lips. Sitting in the middle of an empty battle arena, various weapons strewn around them, they allowed themselves to share in each other’s presence and be happy.

───※ ·❆· ※───

AHAHHAHAHA i just wanna say thank you again for this request because it ended up being such a joy to write. it was so fun to write the reader with this kind of personality

plus, it gave me an excuse to give this story a medieval fantasy aesthetic, which, in my humble opinion, is the superior aesthetic for techno

i can’t stress this enough, thank you to every anon who’s submitted a request for being patient with me! i’m trying to get through them chronologically while still giving myself enough of a break that i won’t get overwhelmed or burnt out. regardless of any wait, i hope you enjoyed!

thank you for reading <3

-moonlight

#c!techno #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader

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carolinaflicker · 4 years ago

Text

birthday girl - calum hood

pairings: calum hood x reader

summary: it’s the reader’s 24th birthday, and somehow she can’t seem to keep her hands off of calum

genre: smut with a hint of fluff

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, PROTECTED sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight daddy kink, teasing + degradation, calum being hot, also female pronouns!

word count: 1770

The faint smell of hairspray sat densely in the air as she checked her reflection one last time. The red on her lips sat bold, and the black material running down her body clung tight. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, doubtfully swapping the combination before huffing and leaving them be.

She stared at her own face in the vanity as she began to lightly run her fingertips over every bump and blemish that held her skin prisoner. Before being able to pick apart every inch of her body, her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle call in the living room of her flat.

“Love, are you almost ready?”

She turned her head swiftly as she heard his approaching footsteps, seeing Calum appear in the doorway.

“You know it’s your birthday, right? You’re kind of the expected guest.” His low chuckle resonated through the room.

Her eyes scanned his face as if it would be the last time she saw him. Y/N found herself doing this frequently, and every time she would find something she hadn’t seen before. This time it was a small freckle just under his bottom lip.

She enjoyed these moments with Calum, the little things that made every day with him a new one. She’d never loved someone as much as she loved him and, quite like her boyfriend, once thought she’d never find it.

It was Calum’s teasing smile and quirked brow that prompted Y/N to realise she was staring at him and, with reddened cheeks, quickly turned to make herself busy.

“You look beautiful.” His hands fell upon her shoulders from behind, and she bathed in the comforting smell of his familiar cologne.

“So do you, handsome.” She said, smiling at him through the mirror.

Calum reached down to give a swift peck to the crown of her head before walking away, giving his girlfriend a gentle reminder of the time passing.

Placing her emergency kit into her purse, Y/N finally noticed the trousers that Calum had chosen to wear. Green and blue plaid adorned the muscles of his thighs, wrapping and moving in just the right places to make her palms sweaty.

She took incredible interest in the way the black shirt he’d tucked in was slightly unbuttoned to reveal two silver pendants resting on his toned chest. Her heart began racing as she fantasised kissing every inch that she could see.

She suspected he had picked these ones specifically for her birthday, knowing they were her favourite. Probably also knowing exactly how they made her feel.

After slipping her final foot into her heels, Y/N turned the light off in their shared bedroom and set her sights on seeking out Calum.

Finding him stood at their kitchen counter she took quick steps over to him, not hesitating to run her hands up his exposed chest to let them rest around the back of his neck.

Calum released a hum of satisfaction when his girlfriend planted her lips on the side of his neck. Placing one hand on her hip and the using the other to gently grab her chin, he pulled her gaze up to meet his.

“Was this morning not enough for you, princess?” When he received a shake of the head, he continued. “Oh and not at breakfast either? And then after the shower. And then-“

Y/N pulled his lips down to meet her own, not worrying in the slightest about the red stain she would leave after.

“C’mon, Cal,” She all but whined, “I need you.”

“And isn’t your life so hard, darling?” He tutted at her mockingly with a small pout, before squeezing her hip and walking away to grab his keys.

Calum let out a loud laugh when he heard Y/N’s dejected mutter about being the birthday girl.

———

The party was in full swing; people flooded every inch of the bar they had hired out, celebrities and friends alike. Shouted words were being exchanged over the bass of the music playing and shots were being thrown back like water.

Calum leant at the bar, nursing a drink in his hand, paying little attention to the story that Shawn Mendes had been telling him for the past 10 minutes.

Instead his gaze was focussed on his girl dancing across the room, happily being spun around by Luke and Ashton to the tune of Dancing Queen.

He had been watching for a while now. Seeing her like this with his band mates never bothered him, in fact Luke was the very reason Calum and Y/N knew each other at all.

Having met Y/N two years prior, Luke had invited her to his 21st knowing just how well she would get on with the bassist. Calum had thanked Luke more times than he could count for this, wondering every day how he had managed to find Calum his perfect half.

Now at his girlfriend’s 24th birthday, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Not out of jealousy, but rather out of pure want. He’d scanned the way her figure moved around the dance floor so many times he was almost dizzy, but that didn’t stop him.

As the music faded and the beginning chords of Wicked Games played through the speakers, Calum excused himself from Shawn quickly and made his way over.

It didn’t take him long, as Y/N soon felt a pair of familiar hands touch upon her waist, and she barely had to look back to recognise who it was. She released her hold on Ashton’s hand and turned her body around fully to face her boyfriend.

“Well hello, stranger.” Y/N’s face gleamed at Calum’s in the dim light.

“Hey, gorgeous. Having a good time?”

He could barely hear the happy sigh that left her mouth over the music but felt a warm feeling spread in his chest as she announced, “The best!”.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, he leaned down to whisper, “You wanna make it even better?”

The excited look she was giving him quickly turned darker, as she took her own turn to whisper.

“Show me what you got, handsome.”

Ignoring the cheers from Luke and Ashton, Calum grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her from the crowd. The woman had to stop herself from all but pouncing on her boyfriend then and there, instead giving a polite smile to Michael and Harry, who seemed to be in an animated conversation.

Y/N thanked every entity she could think of that the bar they’d hired was nice enough to sport separate bathrooms. She sure wasn’t quiet with Calum, yet with the music blasting and their own room, she doubted they’d be heard by anyone.

Rushing in and locking the door, Calum immediately lifted his girlfriend onto the counter. As if by magnets, the two grabbed at each other, kissing like their lives depended on it.

Y/N reached a hand into Calum’s curly hair and pulled, releasing a groan from the man’s mouth. As she attempted to grind against him further, he pulled away and took hold of her by the neck.

“Look at you, pretty girl. One word from me and you’re ready to drop your panties. When did you become such a slut?”

The fingers wrapped around her throat seemed to send the blood rushing faster to her core, a desperate, incoherent mewl escaping her lips.

As she reached down to unbuckle the belt around his waist, he was quick to pull her hands away.

“Not yet. Gotta take care of the birthday girl, right?”

“But I want you, Cal.” She cried.

“Shame.”

He tapped her waist, indicating for her to lift her hips slightly, as he pulled the hem of her dress up to her stomach. Dropping to his knees, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulders, getting closer to the ache between her legs.

Tantalisingly slow, Calum pulled the lacy thong she was wearing down her thighs before stuffing it into his back pocket.

Finally giving her what she wanted, he placed his hot tongue onto her clit, moving in slow circles. The moan that left Y/N’s lips was pornographic, and her hands immediately flew to grasp onto Calum’s hair again.

“I wanna hear you more, love.”

As if on cue, her whines pitched higher and higher, matching the muffled sound of She playing outside.

Increasing in pressure and speed, it didn’t take long for Calum to make Y/N a mess. He knew every curve of her body, every sign of pleasure and, equally, every sign of discomfort. With his knowledge, it never took him long to have her writhing underneath him.

“Calum!” She called, “I’m gonna-“

He stopped.

“Beg.”

Looking down in disbelief, Y/N found him fully content in not touching her until she gave him what he wanted. Huffing loudly, she tried to reach for him again in desperation.

“I’m pretty sure I gave you an instruction, baby.” He scoffed, pulling away even more.

“Fuck, Cal!” She released her stubbornness, “Please let me cum. Please!”

He immediately returned to his previous actions, making her cry out. Her body shuddered and she moaned as Calum finally let her release. She felt dizzy against the mirror, her face stinging from the intensity of her orgasm.

Giving her a check over and a chance to catch her breath, Calum reached down to unbuckle his belt and open his trousers. Stroking his shaft out of his boxers, he looked at the woman again.

“You ready?”

“Just fuck me, Cal.”

Earning a smug chuckle from the man as he pulled out a condom from his pocket and slid it on, she grabbed onto his shoulders as he took her words as gospel, pounding into her with no hesitation. Low grunts and swears left Calum’s lips as he thrusted deep and fast.

Y/N reached down to gently rub her now sensitive clit, releasing a cry as a certain thrust hit just the right spot.

Before she could stop herself, she released a series of incoherent whines, followed by Calum’s name as if in prayer.

“Fuck, daddy!”

Y/N’s regret immediately began to seep into her bones. This was a kink that she had quite happily kept to herself and for 3 years had been worried of Calum’s reaction if she ever brought it up.

This regret dissipated immediately however, as her boyfriend’s rhythm grew sloppier and harder at the name. Soon the room was filled with obscene cries as they both reached their climaxes, collapsing onto each other.

“Well,” Calum said after a breath, “You’ve never called me that before.”

This earned him a weak punch to the shoulder, the woman in his arms giggling lightly.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

#calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood x reader #calum hood x y/n #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #Harry Styles

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Sign From The Past

Andrew/Abraham (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Spoilers for Little Hope, Swearing, Blood and Injury, Bus Crash (Mentioned)

Genre: Romance, A bit of Angst

Summary: Following the bus crash and the group of students and their professor getting stranded in the eerie town of Little Hope, Y/N and Andrew come to find out a lot about and themselves as in their thoughts and feelings as well as about each other. It does take a little push from the past to pass the threshold though.

Requested by 💞 Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was a real joy to write. Also thank you so much for your patience - I know the wait has been really long and I’m extremely sorry for that but I still hope you come across the fic and read it. If so, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

Y/D/N - Your Double’s Name (Same first letter as your name)

Y/N stands behind John and observes as her professor is attempting to wake up the possibly concussed boy sitting on the ground with his back against the roof of the flipped bus they had all been safely seated in less than ten minutes ago. Her classmate and best friend Taylor’s struggling to fetch even the tiniest possible signal with her phone held up in the air, muttering curses under her breath. Two more classmates are unaccounted for at the moment but that’s not what’s bothering Y/N the most right now - maybe it’s messed up, but it’s true.

The girls main attention and worry is focused on the boy who’s still unconscious. The boy she’s praying will wake up soon.

Being the only one with a med major, Y/N was quick to tend to any external wounds such as the cut on Andrew’s forehead which was rather deep but nothing to get too worked up about. There was not much she could do without a med-kit which made her feel utterly helpless and useless while John continuously reassured her Andrew and the rest of them would all be ok.

Come on, Andrew. Don’t scare us like this

As if overhearing her thoughts, Andrew’s eyes started fluttering open, causing Y/N’s heartbeat to pick up, her legs automatically carrying her closer to him, ducking down in front of him to get a good look at him.

She’s the first person his gaze lands upon before fluttering over to John. His eyebrow seems to raise ever so slightly before he looks at Y/N again, “Y/N, what happened? Who’s that?“

Her heart dropped and so did the smile that appeared on John’s face as a result of Andrew’s consciousness returning.

Overhearing Andrew’s question, Taylor quickly comes over as well, ducking down next to Y/N. “Rise and shine, Andy. We’re stuck in a ghost town, this is no time to be taking naps.”

Andrew scoffs, looking at Taylor, “Maybe you could run that back a bit cause I have no idea where I am or what on Earth happened.” His eyes shift back to you, “Any explanation would be nice, Y/N. Even a shitty one.”

Y/N sighs, “We were going on a fieldtrip and our bus crashed. This is our professor,” she points to John and then to Taylor, “And this is our classmate. Two others are with us but we don’t know where they are at the moment.”

The boy stays quiet for a moment, his gaze distancing and becoming unfocused to the point of scaring Y/N but then he starts talking, focusing again, “You’re a med major, so doc can you please tell me why the hell I remember none of what you just told me?“

Even though the girl is rather shocked by his memory of her and her major, she hurries to recompose herself and reply, “You’re just concussed, Andrew. Don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly fine soon, nothing to panic over. I promise.”

Taylor snorts from next to her, cutting the tension, “Wow Andy, you know Y/N AND her major but you can’t even remember our names. Just wow!”

“Not everyone leaves the same impression on a person, Taylor.“ John says, looking between Y/N and Andrew knowingly.

“You got that one right professor.“ Taylor agrees, nudging Y/N’s shoulder with her own, sending a wink her best friend’s way despite the other girl desperately avoiding her gaze.

All she can really do is sit in the intense heat of her blush and hope it’s not as apparent as her crush on Andrew seems to be.

It’s gonna be one hell of a night, she thinks to herself.

If only she knew how right she was...

* * *

“Feeling any better? Any fatigue or nausea?“ Y/N asks Andrew as the two continue down the road, walking ahead of everybody else. This is a routinely question she’s been asking him every thirty or so minutes while hoping she wasn’t annoying him too much with it.

Luckily, he never made her feel like she was, always replying in a friendly, light-hearted manner and even with a hint of a smile, “No, I’m good, don’t worry.”

Right, as if Y/N had a switch to flip to turn her worry off. She’s always been the nurturing type. The one who always over-cares and is always over-kind. She’s been like that with everyone since forever. But with Andrew, though she refuses to admit it, it’s obviously a bit different and more intense.

Seeing as how she’s the only one he remembers, he’s been sticking by her side and gravitating towards her the whole night - much like she’s been doing as well. Little do they both know that even back on campus, in the gardens and the hallways of their college they’d somehow always end up finding one another and walking together to or from class. There are invisible magnetic forces between them, pulling them towards one another so subtly neither of them have noticed. Not yet, at least.

“Hey look! An old train station.“ Y/N points out, looking first to Andrew then turning around in search of the rest of their group members. Her heart drops when all her gaze lands upon is the thick fog that’s been following them everywhere they’ve gone so far and doesn’t seem to show any sign of thinning anytime soon.

Having noticed her mild distress at the absence of their professor and classmates, Andrew hurries to approach her, subconsciously resting a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, they’re probably right behind us, don’t freak out, ok?” His eyes stare into hers so convincingly that all she can do is nod. When she does so, he continues, “Ok, good. Let’s go into the station, see if we can find anything or anyone.” She nods again, praying the blush that’s appeared on her cheeks as a result of the physical contact isn’t visible in the faint light of the streetlight.

As the two turn to venture onward, Y/N nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels Andrew’s hand slide down her arm to take a hold of hers as if afraid he’d lose her in the dark. She tries not to pay too much mind to it and not read into it, biting her lip to suppress the involuntary smile that’s creeping up on her face.

Seeing this moment with the two so at peace and relaxed, the horrors felt mocked apparently and felt the need to intervene.

Just as the two students are about to pass the threshold into the station, a hand covered in cracked ashy skin takes hold of Andrew’s forearm, pulling him in the station.

And simultaneously into the past.

When him and Y/N come to they are shocked at the sight that greets them: themselves. The two of them are standing next to a horse carriage, wearing attire from centuries ago and speaking in hushed tones and whispers but loud enough to be understood at the distance they were at. Y/N and Andrew decide to stay quiet and avoid being spotted by them.

“Never have I thought I’d have to send you off such a way and for such a reason, Y/D/N.” The man who looks exactly like Andrew says, his head hanging low with disappointment, regret and sorrow.

“Abraham, listen to me, this is no fault of yours. You are doing what you think will keep me from harm and I’m grateful with all my heart. I just worry the Reverend will find out you had something to do with me...“

“I’d regret not a single thing even if he did find out.“ The man, Abraham apparently, cuts the girl - Y/D/N - off, his eyes coming up to meet hers again, his hand taking hold of hers. The girl looks around nervously as if to make sure she’s got permission to hold the hand of the man she clearly loves, but then just nods in gratitude.

“I’m forever in your debt, Abraham, thank you.“ She says, bowing her head now too.

“Do not thank me, Y/D/N, and do not speak such nonsense as debt. I would rather die seen as a betrayer of God than see you burnt at the steak or hanged. My lover is no witch and won’t be treated like one till the day I draw my last breath.“

With that Abraham and Y/D/N share one final hug before he helps her up on the carriage which takes off in a direction where Y/N and Andrew see nothing but darkness.

And just like that, the two present versions of those people, are put back where they belong - in the present, surrounded by fog and darkness as previously. The surroundings that previously gave them an uneasy feeling now make them feel comfort because of their familiarity.

“You ok?“ Y/N jumps when Andrew’s hand’s hold on her tightens ever so slightly as if to free her from the web of confusion and fear.

She nods then shakes her head but manages to let out an affirmative hum to reassure him. “You?”

Andrew repeats the same motion she did - a nod followed by a shake of the head, “Yes and no, if I’m being honest. And on the topic of honesty: I haven’t been at the peak of mine as of recent.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?“

The boy lets out a heavy sigh that is meant to prepare him for what he’s about to say. What he’s about to confess to. “There’s plenty of things I haven’t told you. Things I refused to tell myself too...”

“Andrew, sorry but, I’ve had it with puzzles and riddles all night long. Can you please be straight-forward, I promise I won’t freak out or anything.“

Despite still being hesitant on the matter, Andrew decides to listen to Y/N’s advice - or rather request - and nods before continuing, “You’re one of my best friends, Y/N, I hope you know that and I trust you and I care for you and...and I just tonight came to understanding that it was always something...more than a friend. More than a best friend. I’m sorry if this makes you feel weird or awkward or if you don’t feel the same way please don’t cushion the rejection or pity me. I just...” As he’s talking he makes the mistake of looking her in the eyes which are giving him the most unimpressed look which gets him to shut up asap.

“If you didn’t already have a head injury I’d smack you.“ She says, eyes narrowed, “Andrew, I’m sorry, but you have to be one of the densest and most oblivious guys I’ve ever met. Like, you’re up there at Daniel’s level when he refused to believe Taylor liked him back. That’s how high up you’re on the scale.“

Her words confuse him, leaving him to process all that she’s said until some type of realization hit him. Only one is turning up and he refused to believe it cause it seems so impossible to him.

“I like you too, you dumbass.“ She says, a smile on her face hiding the tons of exhaustion he’d been seeing on it for the past few hours.

“FUCKING FINALLY!“ The familiar voice of no one but Taylor arises from somewhere behind the couple who have now found themselves at a closer proximity than before, arms automatically reaching for the other to take them in their embrace.

Fucking finally indeed, Taylor.

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speedypandaweasel · 4 years ago

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Loki Angst (3.5K Words)

Ever since Loki Ep 4 came out, I've been having a strong Maladaptive daydream to the ending credits song. So in true fashion, I'm going to write it here. Enjoy.

When reading, this story is in no way accurate to whats happened in the series so far, this was purely out of my imagination.

Song Inspiration - If You Love Me by Brenda Lee

~~~

Asgard's golden walls glistened proudly with streamers and its pillars blossomed with decorative flowers and fruit. The floor must have been cleaned until someone's fingers bled because when you looked down from the higher floor, you couldn't make up your mind as to which side of the arriving guests was the reflection. The small congregation was accompanied by floating champagne glasses and flowing fabrics of satin and silk, their laughs and high-class conversations wafted through the halls as you watched on in awe.

You knew you weren't exactly a part of this society, let alone this world, but you wanted to at least experience something like this. Watching from afar, you still needed to get changed into your dress for tonight. As for Loki and Sylvie, you hadn't seen them, so you wandered through the long hallways on your own.

Whilst wandering past small fruit and nut bowls displayed in the marble corridors, you thought as to what was happening between your two friends. Things had subtly changed between the three of you and even though they did their best, you knew something had happened between them. They would hopefully tell you though since you had known Loki ever since you could remember, and the thought of him keeping you out in the cold on a secret sent shivers up your spine. Sure, people can keep things to themselves but this felt - different, it put a strain on your friendship and you had the thought that maybe it was your fault that they became distant from you. Did you say something or do something that they weren't a fan of? You didn't like to think like that but it felt like your only option.

You pushed open your door and closed it behind you, making sure to lock it. The cold summers breeze met your face as you drifted over to the small window overlooking the wonderful scene that was graciously displayed below you. Accompanied by the royal gardens, you breathed in a sigh, as your eyes settled on the stars that trickled over Asgard like glitter on a golden trophy, and made sure to capture every single feature the Realm happened to have. You felt like you were home, yet your brain knew that you weren't. The reminder: The Bifrost. It sat in the very distance, its attention gravitating towards you like a persistent magnet, propelling you to come back to your true home and yet, you continued to push back, making sure you stayed here a little longer, just to see things out.

All the while, your hands sneaked their way to your neck, fiddling with a necklace that Loki gave you from your younger years. It became a habit of yours when you were worried about something, and the mischievous scamp had caught you out on it a few times, which then lead you to spill every worry out in front of him. He practically knew everything that you were afraid of and you were secretly proud to say that you knew things about Loki even Thor didn't know about. You two had a lot of history together and you couldn't imagine it any other way, but it wasn't until later that the two of you became a trio. Sylvie was a nice person but the resemblance of her next to Loki was oddly similar, and you still hardly knew anything about her - even to this day. But Loki seemed comfortable around her and when he was happy, you were. The three of you had a lot of fun together and tonight was going to be one of them again, having fun and messing around with anything you could get your hands on. It would probably be the fruit or Odin's staff like last time.

Contemplation was caught short when you heard a knock at the door. You tucked the necklace in your shirt, slid the window shut and closed the curtain. Walking over to the door, you opened it to a smiling Sylvie. Her black outfit was muddy all over and her hair was frazzled, yet her face held the joy of a child which was a new look on her.

Inviting her in, she strode in and sat on your bed, the clean mattress became mucky as her boots trailed in mud from outside. Her stubborn demeanour had dropped and she was talking about something that you didn't quite understand. You stopped her mid-sentence as you calmed her down, telling her to breathe slowly in and out. This was completely new and unrehearsed between the two of you as she started to wind down.

"Is this what you're wearing tonight?" She asked, "It looks nice" stroking the gown carefully.

"Thanks" You replied "Are you going tonight?"

"Yes, I am."

"Awesome! We can get up to all sorts of things tonight! We can steal the fruit, tip some hard liquor into the drinks, or maybe we could-"

"Actually, I don't feel like doing that type of stuff tonight" Sylvie interrupted you this time. "Could we have just one normal night? Like civilly?"

You were taken back. She had never said no to mischief before. This became strangely scary for you. Is this the same Sylvie you knew? She seemed so... mature.

"Oh, oh ok. That's fine." You said. "You better go and get dressed! You definitely need to go and have a bath!" You laughed.

Leading her to the door again, you let Sylvie pass through. An uneasy feeling settled as you watched her float down the hallway, the same grin plastered on her face.

What was going on with her? And where was Loki? He should be in the Palace by now? He was probably with Odin, or Thor letting guests in.

You turned back to face your room and walked towards your long vanity. Its clean mirror and your makeup kit sat proudly upon it, eagerly ready to be used. Sitting down at the station, applying your makeup routine always made you feel like you were going to a grand ball. Well, you were, but the feeling of actually going made butterflies break that pit in your stomach. You gazed at your own reflection, one of a goddess staring back at you. It was one of those surreal moments when you felt like the baddest bitch of them all, feeling like no one could ever stop you from doing anything.

The gown you had picked out slipped off the hanger pricelessly as you delicately slipped it on. Its expensive fabric clasped your figure elegantly as you zipped up the back, making extra sure that it didn't snag on anything. The makeup was wonderfully done and the hair was styled on your head just so, but there was one thing missing.

You untucked the necklace and layed it on top. Perfect.

Doing a small twirl with your heels on, you stood in front of the closets' large mirror for a minute, taking in your gorgeous outfit for the night. Tonight was the night you felt like a princess.

You grabbed your clutch as you glided out of the, now dim hallway. The main light now coming from the grand hall as it coaxed you its way, making your gown glisten with its warm appeal.

Finally basking in its glory, you peered down at the fully decorated hall. So many people had gathered as you watched on again, spotting Odin and Thor right below you, yet no sign of the other God. You stayed up the higher floor, weaving through the bannisters to see if you could catch a glimpse of the green cape. The orchestra played beautiful symphonies as you swayed on from above, fiddling with the golden chain. You slowly got carried away by the addicting melody as you glided down the grand staircase, blending in with the Asgardian crowd. People were beginning to look at you with admiration and smiles started to appear in front of you. You embarrassingly smiled and nodded back, trying to fit in with the night greetings.

You reached your hand onto a passing wine glass tray as you stepped to the outskirts of the crowd, allowing your heated face to cool and your breathing to slow. It had only been a couple hours and you were already flustered. But where were Loki and Sylvie?

You squeezed your way back through the large assembly as you crept up the stairs once more, getting slightly worried as to where the two were.

"There she is!" A familiar face grinned.

You turned and met with the face of Loki, his hair gelled back and that all too familiar smirk brought a chuckle to your lips. He stood at the top of the staircase, dominating the space around him. People had started to notice the young God positioned above them and started to utter whispers and occasional glances.

Your eyes studied his features like a book. The Emerald and Gold colour scheme never seemed to fade on him and his cape shadowed behind his tall and broad shoulders courageously like it always did. The addicting cologne lulled you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapped around you shallowly. Loki never was one for hugs but he didn't mind breaking his "reputation" for you. The gesture ended too soon as Loki scanned the grand room, his daring eyes searching for something. He turned to you.

Mischief chuckled. his eyes filled with amusement. "I should think so, she should be fine this evening, however."

"Have you seen Sylvie? I need to speak with her?"

"Uh, no I don't sorry, but she was acting a little strange earlier today. She was all smiley and a little too happy. Is everything alright with her?"

You nodded, taking his words with a pinch of salt.

"Speak of the lady." You muttered.

Sylvie glided up behind him and suddenly, everything went mute. Nothing but the sounds of your heartbeat entered your ears as you stared. The crisp sound of the orchestra was now muffled and guests discussions became mute. Your breathing shallowed yet you continued to stare.

Eternity flew by in a matter of seconds as you looked at your two friends before you.

Both were wearing Gold and Emerald. Sylvie's long dress complimented Loki's cape and boots and around what was around her slender neck was the cherry on top of this momentous cake.

You looked down at your hands that went to a necklace. All of its meaning had now been transferred to the new owner.

Everything had slotted together. Why Sylvie was smiling so much, Loki's mysterious absences, his short discussion, their secretive behaviour.

The noise came flooding back into your ears once more, making your eyes water. The chattering and clinking of glasses recentered you.

"Is everything alright?" Loki questioned. His arm now linked with Sylvie's, her face displayed the same curiosity.

Your mouth uttered something, yet nothing tumbled out. Instead, your body forced you to turn around and walk.

You walked. Just walked. Walked as far away as you possibly could. Your shoes took you further and further away from the Hall and outside to the gardens. More tears started to fall as you stupidly peered through one of the Palace's windows.

Your stained eyes met with the crowd making room for the event you didn't want to witness, yet couldn't help but watch. It made way for your two friends starting the evening. The urge to pull your eyes away from the situation unfolding became numb. You stood still as Loki took the small of Sylvie's back proudly as they began to waltz, the cushioned sound of the strings and flutes echoed outside as they floated around the room, their eyes never left one another's. Your body became weighted but you knew that one final flick would send you crumbling. Your hands clenched into fists and you couldn't do anything about it.

Loki looked so happy. Still, you weren't. Perhaps it was better for this to happen. They didn't fully know how you came to be in Asgard and thinking it through thoroughly, you didn't want to tell them, not now.

The God of Mischief never looked so proud to be in the centre of the crowd like this, so to keep this secret from you made your heart ache with either pride or betrayal, you couldn't make up your foggy mind.

The Hall became absent of one guest as they slowly walked into the gardens. The stillness of the night's air felt nice against your bare skin and the flowers bloomed gloriously around you. The tall shrubbery loomed over you, blocking out nearly all of the Palaces' light, but you couldn't escape the moon's view.

You strolled in and out of the beds, touching every delicate bulb that you passed. Relishing in its dainty scents, your path came to end with a wooden bench. Its worn planks provided support as you perched on it, resting your killing feet.

Now, what do you do? It was clearly evident that they were fine without you and to be completely honest with yourself, you knew the time to leave this world was drawing nearer and nearer.

The thought of leaving everything behind caused you to break down properly this time, that awful feeling of disgust and hurt pounded at your stomach as your throat was caught on itself.

The night's sky helplessly observed as the air blew colder and colder, the moons light leaving as you trailed back slowly.

Silent sobs resounded off the Palaces back stairwell and to your guest door. Heavy footsteps sounded on the damp carpet as the priceless dress was shrugged off, flopping on the floor lifelessly. The smudged makeup was wiped off and the styled hair was ruffled once more. Silence.

A piece of scroll and a quill were picked up and written on, the scratches of ink were all that could be heard in the small bedroom. Still, no words could be mustered.

A luggage bag was lifted from the top of the closet as t-shirts, jeans and essentials were folded neatly and zipped up. A sniffle was collected.

The open letter was placed on the bed and with a tearful kiss, so was the necklace.

"Thank you for letting me stay, but now I need to leave." A weak voice was finally projected.

The hurt walked down the hallway and back into the Palaces Grand Ball. It walked through the marble pillars, passed the infamous throne and out of the doors.

"Would you like me to carry your bag?" A smooth voice asked.

You whipped your head around to see Heimdall. Of course, he knew what you were doing. The man positioned himself humbly, his uniform reflected the warm lighting come from inside.

"Go and have one more look, I shall meet you at the Bridge."

You gave him a small smile and walked back to the large doors. You lingered in the doorway, eyeing the many guests and savouring the memories that were fading fast.

The vision fell on the young couple that were at the very far end of the room, They were talking to some of the guests, actually socialising. They looked so happy together, his hand draped around her like it was always meant to do that. Her eyes beaming with pride as she glanced up at him only made you cement your choice.

You smiled.

You took yourself on a little tour around the public square, seeing the many beautiful pictures of people houses, lavish fountains and well-kept marble streets. Each of its precisely cracked lines etched in gold, eventually directed you to the edge of the idyllic city. You laughed as you spotted the overly known spots the three of you used to meet at. You walked over to the tree as you looked on fondly at the permanent markings on its trunk. Your head lifted up to prevent an emotional collapse, you didn't want to make this harder than it should be, yet you were all the same.

Hours became minutes and you spotted Heimdall at the bridge, your suitcase grasped in his hand. Just one more time.

You made your final view on Asgard, from the Palace at the back from the small houses and shops at the front. Everything looked so much larger than from your bedroom window.

"Are you ready?" Heimdall said and offered his arm.

You chucked as you accepted, grandly strolling down the bridge to the Bifrost. The array of colours danced below you as Heimdall unexpectedly spun you around politely. His chuckle filled the air as you joked around on your way, forming even more moments that your heart desperately wanted to cling to. The evening's glitter shone above the both of you, customising spotlights on the two trying to make this special night one to remember.

"I am going to miss you Mid- Guardian."

"I'm gonna miss you too Heimdall."

The Biofrost expanded bigger and bigger until it was practically on top of you both. Your dance ceased to a stop as the gatekeeper placed a soft kiss on the top of your hand.

Footsteps bounced off the hollow walls as the two of you walked inside the orb. The cold interior made you shiver as your infinite time was now mere seconds.

"After you Heimdall" you laughed, trying to hold back tears that were starting to erupt again.

"Thank you, but before I forget, may I request you do something." He said. "Do you mind turning around?"

Confused, you obliged. Turning around, Heimdall's cold hands came to the back of your neck and left just as swiftly.

You stared down, your tired eyes widening.

"Heimdall how do you have thi-"

You spun back around but didn't come face to face with Heimdall.

You froze, paralysed to the spot as your breathing sharpened.

Your bags thudded to the Bifrosts floor and you crashed into him, your hands grabbed at his cloak as you sobbed into his leathered outfit. He dropped to his knees and pulled you in closer, his face burrowed into the crook of your shoulders. The jet black hair was becoming ungelled as the two of you stayed in that hug for a long time. His breathing became shallow and your shoulder was becoming damp. You pulled the hug in, infinitely closer, desperately not wanting to let him go. Your mind was scraping back at the fleeting moments as your exit grew bigger and bigger, applying pressure on top of the emotional wreckage to part ways.

Alas, you sadly tore away from one another, looking directly into one another's eyes, his green ones pierced into yours, pleading you to stay. Nonetheless, you both knew that couldn't be the case.

"I could stay here with you, you know"

"You know that can't happen Mid-Guardian. It pains me that you must leave. We have caused a lot of mischief together and I am so proud of the person you have become, even if you were under my influence." He choked, tears forming in his eyes. Your hand cusped his jawline, your thumb dragged along his cheek and to his eyes. His skin was made of pale velvet. His yearning tears were smoothed away from his eyes as he breathed out a shaky sigh.

You both dragged back yourselves up to your feet, his taller shadow looking down on you. He slowly picked up and passed you your luggage as you both locked eye contact for one last time.

He knew he had to let you go but for once in his life, this was the hardest goodbye he had to be a part of. You meant so much to him and the way he behaved tonight finally made him realise that no matter what he did or who he met, no one would be able to make him feel or experience anything like this the way you did, not even Sylvie.

"Don't forget me Loki."

"Oh my Dear, I won't be forgetting you for a very long time." He gave you a grin before wiping his eyes once more. "Now go and make some more mischief down on Mid-Guard for me."

You placed a sensitive kiss on his cheek as you edged closer to the Bifrosts vacuum. You turned around to admire the God of Mischief once more, a small tear leaked from your red face again.

Loki gave you a wink and then soon he wasn't there anymore.

Loki stood there painfully as you were soon out of sight, his mind racing with everything he should have said that never escaped his mouth.

He peered at the Bifrost that had now shut, hoping that for some miraculous reason that you would return, as his hand ran through his tousled hair. His breath became ragged once more as his knees buckled, his white-knuckled fists slammed into the floor, the impact caused the portal to shake slightly. If he didn't behave like such an arse hole tonight, maybe things could have turned out differently. how long did you know that you had to leave him one day?

His unanswered questions marinated as he regrettably crawled back to his feet and trudged back towards the festivities, his cape dragged behind him heavily. His bottled emotions made his blood boil as he let out a singular scream, cascading into the dark void of the Realm.

But if he loved you, then he had to let this happen.

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