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kkvqwrites · 2 years ago

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Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could.

The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-”

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

#cod ghost #cod ghost fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mwii ghost #task force 141 #john price #soap mactavish #gaz garrick #kate laswell #mwii fanfic

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ollyissleepy · 2 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

summary: you and your boyfriend work together to have a perfect christmas tree! a/n: for those who might think I'm listening to christmas songs while writing this series I want you know that you are wrong, I'm listening to the sims 2 soundtrack cw: none.

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You watch Rafayel put the ornament he made of you on the tree, so you decide that it's the time to put yours as well. To make sure the tree doesn't get too repetitive, you hang it further away for Rafayel's.

"Is that you asking for a divorce?" Your boyfriend asks, his eyebrows raised high.

"We're not even married" You say, confused.

"…" Rafayel stays silent for a bit, clearly thinking of something to reason with you. "Yeah, but they are so they have to be next to each other" you let out a sigh, knowing there's no use in fighting him.

"Fine, happy?" You remove your ornament from his previous spot and hang it next to Rafayel's. You stand back a bit, so check how they look together and you had to admit it was kinda cute. The mini versions of the two of you looked like they belonged next to each other.

"Would be happier if we were also married"

You watched Xavier eagerly bring all the boxes with ornaments from the storage. Who would've thought that bribing him with a nap and some cuddles would give such effects. You don't remember the last time Xavier had so much energy to do stuff like that.

"So where do we start?" He asks you, while holding the last box.

"Why don't you pyt the lights on the tree and I'll check what ornaments we have?" You smile at him and Xavier agrees with your plan.

The two of you work quietly, with the only thing breaking the silence were the songs you play in the background. As the tree was coming along nicely, you started to feel tired with the weight of the day finally catching up to you. You don't mention it to Xavier, knowing that if you take a break there's no way you would finish the tree and the last thing you want is a half-finished tree on christmas. With the last ornaments finding they're place, the two of you are done decorating. You step back a bit with Xaver to admire your work, when he places his head on your shoulder.

"So about those cuddles?"

"The coast is clear!" You and the twins resume bringing the huge christmas tree into the living room.

"It's in fact, not clear" hearing Sylus's voice makes all three of you stop in your tracks "what are you doing?"

"Preparing to set up christmas tree, duh" you reply as if you were stating the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, think of it as family bonding time, boss" Kieran says with Luke nodding his head eagerly behind him.

"A what now?" Sylus asks, his eyebrows raised.

"Family bonding time?" Kieran replies, no longer sure if he's saying the right thing. Your boyfriend just nods.

Sylus doesn't interfere with what you referred to as 'family bonding time' and just watched all of you from the sidelines. It didn't last long, though, as you basically forced him to help with the tree. All four of you spend amazing time together, decorating the tree and jamming to christmas songs that Luke put on. In no time the tree was ready, and the twins decided to celebrate with some hot chocolate, that they promised to make some for you as well. Sylus brings you closer to you, his arm wrapped around your waist and his sight focused on the tree.

"You're spoiling them"

"Just wait till you see the gifts I bought for them"

You opened the door to your home and the first thing you heard was some christmas songs playing softly. You had to stop in your tracks to make sure you're in the right place. After confirming that you're in fact in your home, you make your way to the living room. There you see Zayne prepping the tree and boxes of ornaments.

"You didn't have to do that, I could help you with prepping" Zayne looks back at you, clearly not expecting you to be back so soon.

"Hi, love" he comes closer to you and gives you a kiss "I figured that we should get to the good part when you're back" you couldn't help but smile, thinking how thoughtful your boyfriend is.

With the system that Zayne has thought of, decorating the tree went smoothly. The two of you worked on the tree and enjoyed some christmas song while at it. You even took a little break to enjoy some tea and rest. The two of you worked efficiently and in to time the tree was done. You couldn't help but to get a little sad, knowing it's finished. It didn't go unnoticed by Zayne, who came right by your side.

"Don't worry, we'll have plenty more trees to decorate in the future and a plenty more christmas to spend together"

taglist: @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @iloveboysinred @sstar-ggirl @bellagrayson-wayne

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#love and deepspace x reader #love & deepsace x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads x you #lads x y/n #lads x mc #lads xavier x reader #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads sylus x reader #lads rafayel x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Batkids x male reader, were the reader was Bruce's best friend but due to some bad blood they kinda hate each other, but still look out for each other. Now what about Bruce having to go on a mission with the justice league, and lets just say Alfred is on vacation and Bruce just takes the extra step and let's the kids stay at the reader's place, because he knows they're safe with him. While the reader hates Bruce, he loves his nephews and he takes great care of them. Bruce eventually returns and the kid's are obs with their uncle, so now Bruce has to visit the reader more often and maybe they repair their friendship??

Why did I imagine (Y/N) as the uncle who always has a wine glass in his hands? And as an uncle who has the dirt on their father? And as an uncle who travelled the world and has so many stories to tell? Okay, I have to stop.

Summary: Bruce and (Y/N) don't like one another, but they trust one another. Bruce is forced to drop of his boys at his house.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst with Dick, but nothing too serious, the reason for the hatred is not specified, wine uncle, (Y/N) is the funny uncle?, author has no clue...

Bruce didn't know how he ended up in this situation. He rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. He had a very important mission with the Justice League, one mission that could really damage the League of Light. The boys weren't going, only the Justice League members due to the importance of the mission. Alfred was going on a well deserved vacation.

The only person that he trusted was (Y/N), but they... They had a complicated history with one another. They had some bad blood, well, they still do and they have a hatred/trusting relationship. Bruce trusted him enough to tell him his secret identity and (Y/N) was going to take it to the grave. (Y/N) also knew some people in the Gotham crime scene so he helped Bruce out with some cases.

Bruce blinked a few times before looking at his phone. If he was going to ask (Y/N) to do this, he needed to do this in person. Was this a good idea? (Y/N) loved his nephews, there was no doubt about that. (Y/N) would never direct the hate at the people that didn't have anything to do with it.

And more importantly, their safety was (Y/N)'s priority. Bruce sighed, looking for (Y/N)'s contact. He pressed the button and put the phone next to his ear. It was always weird to call him like this.

" Well Bruce, to what do I owe the pleasure to? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce could hear rock music in the background.

" We need to meet tomorrow in our bar. " Bruce started. They picked a nice bar, a neutral zone for them to meet up whenever they needed to talk. It also meant that the meetings were urgent.

" What's wrong? Did something happened to the boys? " (Y/N) asked, the relaxed and unbothered mood gone, worry and anxiety coming through.

" Nothing happened to them, but I have to ask you something about them. And trust me, I can't ask that over the phone. " Bruce said, looking at the time. He was going to have to go down for dinner.

" Alright, around this time then? " (Y/N) proposed and Bruce confirmed. " Alright Bruce, see you then. " (Y/N) hanged up and put the phone down. He sighed once more as he made his way downstairs. This was going to be a fun meeting.

Bruce waited for (Y/N) in the bar. He sat down at a booth, ordering himself some whiskey and some wine for (Y/N). Cabernet Sauvignon was (Y/N)'s favorite wine. He tapped his fingers against his glass, looking at the bar doors.

He relaxed when he saw (Y/N) entering. He was wearing his long black coat, with a scarf around his neck. Bruce leaned back when (Y/N) sat down across from his, taking his coat and scarf off and put it next to him.

" Alright, what is going on? " (Y/N) asked, taking his glass of wine. He took a sip, smirking at Bruce. " Something big if you ordered my favorite wine. " (Y/N) added, twirling the wine in the glass.

" It is. I have to go on a mission with the League. It's important and I will be gone for a while. And Alfred is going on vacation. " Bruce started, watching (Y/N)'s reaction. So far so good.

" And I was wondering if they could stay with you. " Bruce finished, watching as (Y/N) face turned into pure confusion.

" Wait. You want them to stay with me? " (Y/N) asked, watching as Bruce's face fell a little bit, " Don't get me wrong, I love those four, but are you sure? "

" (Y/N), I know we hate each other, but I know you love the boys. And they will be safe with you. " Bruce explained, taking another sip of his whiskey.

" Wow. I'm not sure whether or not to feel honored. " (Y/N) joked, taking a sip of his wine.

" Despite the bad blood, we do look out for one another. " Bruce said, raising his glass. (Y/N) raised his and they silently toasted to one another.

" Now, I need to talk to you about their schedules. " Bruce said, making (Y/N) groan. " Did you really think it was going to be easy? " Bruce teased.

" Just tell me. " (Y/N) said and Bruce started to explain everything.

The boys were rather confused as to why they had to stay with (Y/N). They didn't mind it per say, but they couldn't understand how they couldn't stay home alone. They were driving to (Y/N)'s building, boys packed up.

" Okay, don't break anything and be nice to (Y/N). I don't want to get back with him not wanting to babysit you. " Bruce threatened, stopping the car at the parking lot.

" B, we are too talented for that. We can be civil. " Jason defended them, making Bruce scoff.

" Please. " Bruce said, helping them take their luggage.

" Father, what does (Y/N) do for a living? " Damian asked, pressing a button to get the elevator to the lobby.

" I don't know. And I don't want to know. " Bruce said, ushering the boys into the elevator.

" Do we have to share the rooms? " Dick asked. Bruce pressed the button for the top floor.

" You can ask (Y/N) when we get up there. " Bruce said, looking at the numbers lighting up.

The boys looked at one another. This was going to get interesting. They stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall to knock, but (Y/N) opened the door before.

" Oh my sweet nephews! Come here! " (Y/N) said, hugging each one and then ushering them inside. " Bruce, help me with the luggage. " (Y/N) said, taking it from Bruce and leading him to the two rooms that he has prepared. After putting them in the rooms, they went to the living room.

Damian was looking at the blades on the wall, Jason looked at the cabinet filled with old guns.

" Okay, guys. Don't break anything, don't touch anything you are not supposed to, listen to your uncle and don't fight. " Bruce said, checking the time on his phone.

" Bruce, the boys are going to be fine. You don't have to worry about them. " (Y/N) waived him off, ushering him out.

" Alright then, see you soon. " Bruce said to his boys before leaving the apartment.

Once Bruce was out the door, (Y/N) turned to the four boys. " Alright you four, I have 2 rules. First one is, don't touch my weapons, both guns and blades. They are my babies. Second one is don't touch my wine bar. Other than that, you four are free to roam. " (Y/N) finished, but a moment later he snapped his fingers as he remembered something. " Oh yeah, you will have to share rooms. So, that will be it." (Y/N) said, moving to the kitchen. It was time for dinner and tonight was pizza.

" I hope you like pizza because I was too lazy to cook something more sophisticated today. " (Y/N) finished, opening the oven to check the state of the pizza.

They all liked pizza of course. They all sat down at the table where all the plates were laid out.

" Just a minute more and the pizza will be perfect. " (Y/N) announced to the four boys.

(Y/N) never had to wake up this early. It was something he wasn't used to, but he promised to Bruce that he would have to take care of the boys. He was making some pancakes and some bacon. After 10 minutes the boys shuffled out of the room. Well, only 3 out of 4.

" Guys, where is Damian? " (Y/N) asked, knowing that he was always on time and that he never overslept.

" I tried to wake him up, but he just wouldn't get up. " Dick said, rubbing his eyes to wake up.

" I will check on him. " (Y/N) said, walking to Dick's and Damian's room. He opened the door to see Damian in a fetal position, eyes closed. (Y/N) walked to the bed, shaking Damian's shoulder.

" Dames? You need to wake up. " (Y/N) said, making Damian wince. That confused (Y/N) and he opted to put the back of his hand on Damian's forehead. Damian was burning.

" Oh shit, Dames. Let me get you some tea. " (Y/N) whispered, going to the closet to add another blanket on Damian. After, he quickly walked back to the living room/ kitchen.

" Damian has a fever. " (Y/N) announced to the boys, who were shocked to hear it. He was fine last night. (Y/N) rummaged through the cabinets for Damian's favorite green tea.

" So what is the plan? " Jason asked, putting some bacon in his mouth.

" I will drop you 3 off. Then, I have to make sure that Damian is hydrated. " (Y/N) said. That's what he did when he was sick. You have to drink tea and fluids.

Everyone nodded and continued eating. After finding the tea, he put a kettle filled with water on the stove.

" Eat up, we are going in 15 minutes. " (Y/N) said, going back to his room to change. After a quick change, he was back in the kitchen, pouring some coffee from his coffee machine to his mug. He chugged the coffee quickly.

" I don't even think that Tim chugs coffee like that. " Jason noted, making Tim roll his eyes.

" Well Jay, I never have to wake up this early. " (Y/N) explained to Jason who just raised his hands up in surrender. (Y/N) turned to look at the kettle who started screaming as (Y/N) would say.

He took a mug from the cabinet and poured the water in it then putting a tea bag in the hot water. He watched the green fill the water. He took the mug and went to Damian's room. He put it on the Damian's nightstand.

" Dames, I know you can hear me. I put your favorite tea on the nightstand. I will drop your brothers off at school and then come back. Try to drink some. " (Y/N) whispered to Damian who blinked a few times before nodding. (Y/N) made sure that Damian was tucked in before leaving the room once more.

" Alright kiddos. Get ready because we are going to be late. " (Y/N) said, poking his head in.

" How much are you going to walk? " Jason joked and (Y/N) sighed.

" I have nothing to do after dropping you three off. Then I have to make sure that Damian is okay when Bruce comes back. " (Y/N) said.

(Y/N) watched as Damian slept peacefully. After giving him some pills to help him with the fever and steaming the room so that he could breathe normally, he went back to the living room where Jason was looking at the firearms he had.

" This Winchester is gorgeous. " Jason said, pointing at the original from the 1860s.

" Oh trust me, I know. I had to battle a Texan for it. " (Y/N) said, pouring himself the wine.

" I beg you pardon? " Jason asked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

" Since when are you so posh? " (Y/N) retorted, moving to sit at the couch.

" Since now. I want to know the story. " Jason stated, plopping down next to (Y/N) on the couch.

" Alright. I was looking for this particular Winchester. I traced the owner and asked what he was going to sell it for. He said no price since it's one of the earlier models. But however, he challenged me to bull riding. " (Y/N) paused, taking a sip. Jason's mouth dropped a little bit.

" And then? "

" I would like to say that I have never rode a bull. But I really wanted to get the rifle. So I accepted. I rode a lot of mechanical bulls though, but it's not the same as the real thing. How I held on, I don't know. But it was worth it. " (Y/N) noted, smiling at the memory. Texans are cool.

" Holy shit. " Jason said, eyes looking at the gun case.

" I know. All the pain was worth it. "

Damian got better after a day by some miracle. He observed the blades that were on display. He could note that they were very well cared for.

" Uncle, can you tell me where you got them? " Damian asked, turning his head a little. (Y/N) was in the kitchen, making some dinner.

" Back when I finished college, I travelled a lot. I ended up in the Middle East. There was this man who wanted to sell me some awful version of the blades. So, I managed to trick him and got him give me the real ones. Then he tried to kill me. " (Y/N) finished, tasting the sauce. He smacked his lips, tasting the sauce.

Damian nodded, not saying anything. It doesn't phase him when it comes to (Y/N).

" I can see that you take good care of them. " Damian noted, making (Y/N) smile.

" When you say that Dames, that is the biggest praise in the world. " (Y/N) said. " Are feeling okay? " (Y/N) asked.

" I feel okay. "

" Let me know if you start feeling like you are going get sick. "

Damian nodded, turning his head back to observe the beautiful blades.

" (Y/N), I need help. " Tim said, walking to the kitchen island with a laptop in his hands. (Y/N) was working on his own laptop in the kitchen. He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose.

" What's up kiddo? " (Y/N) asked, looking up from his own laptop.

" I need to find this man. But I can't. " Tim said, showing him the screen. (Y/N) recognized the man instantly. He is also looking for him, alongside a few Gotham rouges.

" Bruce told me you aren't allowed to go on patrol. " (Y/N) remembered.

" I won't go, I was going to call it in to GCPD. Anonymously, of course." Tim added the last part.

" Hmm. Let me call in a few favors. Did you do your homework? " (Y/N) asked, reaching for his phone.

" A few favors? " Tim asked, tilting his head.

" Yes. I have a few friends who control the information. And my God, though they owe. " (Y/N) joked, taking his his glasses off and putting them next to the laptop.

" And Bruce knows about that? " Tim asked, clearly shocked. He knew that his uncle was sketchy, but this is something else.

" He does. When he says we have a lead, there is a 70% chance that the lead came from me. " (Y/N) said, dialing the number for the burner phone of his friend.

" Okay... I'm going to go back to my room. " Tim said, taking his laptop back, shaking his head. (Y/N) chuckled quietly, waiting for his friends to pick up.

Dick sighed as he went through the channel on the TV. He was getting bored from not going on patrol. It was so weird how they slept at normal times. It is the weirdest thing ever.

But that isn't the only reason why he was so bored. There is a lot on his mind about Bruce. Is he okay? Did the mission go well? Why didn't they go? They could have said that they went on vacation, on a longer one.

Did Bruce think that they weren't good enough?

" Alright Dick. You have been moping around all day. I can see that your head is full. And before you say anything, I won't tell anything to Bruce. And also, I won't judge. This is a no judgement zone. " (Y/N) said to Dick, offering Dick some hot chocolate.

Dick took the mug with a sad smile, taking a sip of the warm beverage.

" I just think that Bruce doesn't think we are good enough. Like, he takes on a lot when he has us, ready to go, ready to help him. We could have helped him with the mission. " Dick opened up, tapping his finger against the mug.

(Y/N) smiled softly, moving closer to Dick. He put his arm around his shoulders to bring him closer.

" Dick, let me tell you something. You four are the most important people to Bruce. He loves you four more than anything else in the world. And whenever we meet, he always talks about the achievements you guys have. And there is this gleam and proud look in his eyes. " (Y/N) said, hugging Dick from the side.

" Really? "

" Trust me, he is always proud of you guys and none of our meetings go without mentioning you guys. And he is also protective of you guys. When you guys got injured, he blamed himself. " (Y/N) answered the question.

" That's nice to hear. Thanks. " Dick thanked, leaning back on (Y/N).

" No problem. " (Y/N) said, rubbing his hand up and down his arm.

Bruce was finally back home, in his city. He missed it a lot, but he missed his sons more. He was walking down the familiar hallway, knocking on the door. The door was opened by (Y/N). He nodded at Bruce in greeting and Bruce nodded back.

Before could Bruce say hello, his sons jumped, excited out of their minds. They were all talking at the same time and Bruce couldn't understand anything.

" One at the time. " Bruce said after they paused for breath.

" (Y/N) is so cool Bruce! He needs to come over more and vice versa! " Dick said, buzzing with excitement.

Bruce didn't know what to say to that. He didn't really want to spend more time with (Y/N). Did he miss (Y/N) as a friend? Yes. But did he think that they could repair their friendship? No.

" Wait for me in the hall guys. " Bruce said, looking at (Y/N). The boys shuffled out of the living room into the building hall.

" Thank you. " Bruce said to (Y/N) who gave him a tight smile in return.

" No problem. When it comes to them, I will drop everything. " (Y/N) said, looking at the apartment door.

" Do you think that our relationship is repairable? " Bruce asked, crossing his arms.

" I think so. We are much alike. We don't really like emotions that much. "

" So... How about you come to the manor this weekend? We are having a celebration for this mission. " Bruce proposed.

" Only if you have wine. "

" Cabernet Sauvignon, I know. I have some that are sleeping in my wine cellar. " Bruce joked. (Y/N) chucked quietly in return.

" So there is a chance? " Bruce hoped. (Y/N) also missed Bruce as a friend. But bad blood was holding them both back.

" I think there is. "

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #batkids #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 2 months ago

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The Fall Part 2

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You had a fall. James and Sirius aren't quite done being angry. Warnings: Angry James and Sirius, I guess Series Masterlist | Part 1

You sit there, still as a statue, staring up at James and Sirius. They look just as shaken as you feel, their eyes wide with disbelief and something close to fear.

The silence stretches out between you, filled only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant hum of the castle settling around you. It feels unnatural, this quiet, especially coming after such an intense exchange.

"James is right," Remus finally states, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "We are worried about you, Y/N."

The weight of his gaze is heavy on your skin, but it doesn't stir the same anger that James's and Sirius's did. There's understanding there—a depth of emotion that suggests he knows more than he lets on.

"And yes," Remus continues, turning to face Sirius. "She has been managing her condition for years now. We can't forget that."

There's a pause as he allows his words to sink in, his eyes never leaving yours. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the gears shifting as he tries to find the right words—the ones that will bridge the gap between concern and autonomy.

"And this—" He gestures to the room around you. "—isn't something we can control or fix, no matter how much we want to."

Remus's voice softens, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of sadness cross his features. But just as quickly, it's gone, replaced by the familiar calmness that always seems to surround him.

"Y/N," he says gently, taking a step towards you. His hand hovers over your arm, like he wants to offer some sort of comfort but isn't sure if it would be welcome. "I know it's hard for them to understand—to see you in pain and not be able to do anything."

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It's just you and Remus, two people caught in the middle of a storm, trying desperately to navigate through the chaos.

"But they care about you," he adds quietly. "That's why they're here. That's why they want to help."

You swallow hard, feeling the lump in your throat grow with each passing second. The truth stings, burns even, but it's impossible to ignore—not when Remus lays it out so bare, so raw. They love you, and that's why they're pushing so hard—even if it feels suffocating at times.

The harsh lines of James' face soften slightly as he takes in the scene before him—the worry etched into Remus's brow, your own hardened expression thawing under his friend's gentle words. He steps forward, not with the force of his earlier anger, but with a hesitance that speaks volumes about the gravity of this moment.

"Y/N," he begins, and his voice is different now—quieter, almost tentative. His hand extends towards you, hovering in mid-air like an unspoken offer of peace. "I'm... I'm sorry."

You can hear the sincerity in his tone, feel it in the way his fingers twitch ever so slightly as if yearning to bridge the gap between you. But apologies are just words, and right now, they are drops in an ocean of hurt and misunderstanding.

"I didn't mean to get angry." A sigh escapes him, heavy with regret. "Seeing you fall... I was scared too."

His gaze meets yours, searching for understanding—for some sign that you believe him. The guilt is evident in his eyes, clouding the once vibrant hazel with shades of remorse. For a moment, you see a glimpse of the boy who has been by your side through countless adventures, always quick with a joke or a reassuring smile. Now, that same boy stands before you, struggling to articulate the depth of his concern.

"It's just..." He pauses, looking down at his hands as if the answers might be written there. "When I think about you getting hurt when you’re alone, it scares me more than anything else."

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Sirius steps forward. The anger that had once painted his features in sharp lines is gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. He stops just short of touching you, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on your lap. There's a moment of silence, and then he speaks again—his voice low and filled with an emotion you can't quite place.

"Every time I see you struggle... every time you wince or stumble..." Sirius trails off, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the images from his mind. "It feels like someone's squeezing my heart, Y/N. Because I know—I know—that it's not supposed to be this way."

His words hang heavy in the air, each one punctuated by the faintest tremor. You watch him, seeing the frustration etched into his face, but there's something else too—a fear that mirrors your own. It dawns on you then that perhaps Sirius isn't just angry at the world for putting you through this; maybe he's also scared.

Scared of losing you. Scared of watching you suffer. And most of all, scared that no matter how hard he fights, it won't be enough to keep you safe.

"I just... I hate feeling helpless." His eyes meet yours, and they're shining now—not with rage or defiance, but with something akin to desperation. "Watching you fight this battle alone... it terrifies me, Y/N."

There's a raw honesty in his confession—one that leaves you breathless. Because for all his bravado, for all his stubbornness, Sirius Black has never been good at hiding what he truly feels. And right now, standing before you with his heart laid bare, you can see just how deeply this affects him.

"I was wrong," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Wrong to help when you asked me not to. Wrong to let my fear control me instead of listening to what you needed."

The admission hangs heavily in the air, its weight pressing down on both of you. But there's a strange sense of relief too—the understanding that while the path ahead may be fraught with challenges, neither of you are alone.

You close your eyes, gathering your thoughts as the lingering tension from their outbursts still clings to the air. The silence that follows is a welcome respite, allowing you time to find the words buried beneath layers of frustration and fear.

"It's not just about the walking," you begin, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "Or the falling. It's about... control." You open your eyes, meeting their gazes head-on. "It's about being able to decide when I need help and when I don't."

For years, this has been your reality—navigating a world that doesn't quite understand, finding ways to adapt even when it seems impossible. And while they've seen glimpses of your struggle, there's so much they haven't witnessed: the countless falls, the days when pain is your only companion, the nights spent wondering if tomorrow will be any easier.

"Sometimes, I do fall. Sometimes, things don't go as planned. But I've learned to live with that because I have no other choice." Your gaze hardens, determination seeping into every word. "And I refuse to let it define me or limit what I can do."

Their expressions are unreadable, but you see something shift behind their eyes—a flicker of understanding, perhaps, or the dawning realisation of how deeply this runs. You pause, giving them a moment to process before continuing.

"I appreciate your worry. Truly, I do. But part of caring for someone is trusting them to know their own limits. To respect their decisions, even if you don't agree with them."

Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You watch them closely, searching their faces for signs of understanding, of acceptance.

"You're right." James breaks the silence first, his voice barely above a whisper. "We should've listened..."

Remus steps forward from where he's been standing silently, observing the confrontation unfold. His eyes meet yours—kind, understanding—and with a gentle touch on your shoulder, he offers an anchor amidst the chaos.

"They just want to be there for you," he says softly, "not to rob you of your independence but to ensure you never have to face this alone."

His words flow over you like a soothing balm, easing the raw edges left behind by the earlier argument. There's no judgement or blame in his tone, only empathy—the kind born of shared experiences and unspoken understandings.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead—a gesture so familiar, so comforting that it tugs at something deep within you. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into the contact, to draw strength from his presence.

"It's okay to let them help sometimes, Y/N," Remus murmurs against your skin, his breath warm and steady. "But it's also okay to do things on your own terms. We'll make sure they understand that."

It's a promise—one that holds more weight than any reassurances James or Sirius could offer right now. Because Remus has always understood this delicate balance, this dance between offering support and respecting boundaries.

He pulls back slightly, giving you space yet remaining close enough to provide comfort if needed. His hand remains on your shoulder, a silent reminder that despite everything, you're not alone.

"Thank you, Remus." Your whisper barely reaches your own ears, but you know he hears it. He has always heard you, even when others didn't—or couldn't.

For a moment, silence settles over the room again—a respite from the storm, a chance to breathe and regroup. And as you sit there, surrounded by those who care for you most, you can't help but feel a faint glimmer of hope stir within you.

"Let me help, Y/N," James urges gently, his hand still cupping yours. His thumb traces a small circle against your skin, grounding you in the moment. "I'm sorry, I... we should have understood better."

For a long beat, all you hear is the sound of your own breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as James shifts closer. Despite the warmth radiating from his body, you can't shake off the chill that has settled deep within your bones—a lingering reminder of the fear that had gripped you earlier.

"But I need to learn how to let go, too." He admits, his fingers tightening around yours ever so slightly. "I just hate seeing you struggle when I could—"

"No, James." You cut him off mid-sentence, pulling away from his grasp. "That's where you're wrong. It's not about what you could do for me—it's about what I need to do for myself."

His gaze falters, but he doesn't look away. Instead, he seems to search your face for answers—as if hoping to decipher some hidden meaning behind your words.

"You're strong, sweetheart. That much is clear." There's a new edge to his voice now—one tinged with admiration rather than frustration. "But strength isn't always about doing everything alone. Sometimes, it means knowing when to accept help—even when it's hard."

You want to argue, to tell him he's missing the point. But the words catch in your throat, leaving you staring back at him in silence. Because part of you knows he's right—accepting help isn't a sign of weakness, no matter how much it feels like surrender.

"I promise, Y/N," James continues, his voice steady even as his eyes betray a hint of uncertainty. "We'll try to understand. To give you the space you need while still being there for you when you call."

He pauses, letting the words sink in before offering you a small smile—one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, but carries an earnestness you can't ignore.

"Forgive me, Y/N," Sirius says quietly, stepping closer so that the space between you is barely a breath. His hands move tentatively to your face, cupping it as though he's afraid you'll pull away.

His fingers are rough, but they're gentle against your skin, warm and grounding. A silent apology for what has transpired, seeking forgiveness without words.

"I didn't mean to make you feel...inadequate." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort. "I just need to learn how to handle my fear when I see you getting hurt."

He brushes a thumb across your cheek, tracing over the skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you—the contours of your face, the softness beneath his touch. And in this moment, there's only him—only Sirius and the raw sincerity etched into his features.

Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss to your lips—a stark contrast from his usual confident kisses, this one is filled to the brim with emotion and an unspoken promise to do better.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close until there's no room left for doubts or insecurities—just the steady rhythm of two hearts beating as one.

And for the first time since the fall, you let go completely. The tension seeps out of your muscles, replaced by a warmth that radiates from where his body meets yours. You melt into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, to be comforted, even if just for a little while. Then you feel the other two’s arms wrap around you—three layers of warmth and protection. You let out a shaky breath, your body trembling from the onslaught of emotions.

Remus's lips meet yours with a tenderness that mirrors his soul, the soft pressure like a balm on unseen bruises. His kiss whispers of promises meant to heal, not harm, and you find yourself leaning into the contact. Your fingers thread through the strands of his hair, anchoring him to you as if he could somehow lend you the stability his presence always brings.

And then it's James, his kiss warmer, more insistent—a reflection of the fire that fuels his spirit. The familiarity of his taste stirs memories of shared laughter and stolen moments, each one a testament to the bond that has weathered so many storms. His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing the curve of your cheeks in a gesture that anchors you to the here and now—to the reality of their return and the reconciliation it offers.

"We're here, love," Sirius murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His hand reaches for yours, fingers threading through yours in a silent vow of solidarity. "We've got you."

You feel the weight of the argument lifting as the four of you sit there, pressed together, the closeness and love between you reaffirmed. In the quiet aftermath, the boys promise to respect your need for independence while making sure they’re there when you do need them.

"We'll work on it, Y/N," Sirius says, his voice rough with emotion. "Just...give us time."

"And let us help when we can," James adds, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "Not because we think you're weak, but because we care about you."

It's not perfect, this resolution. There are still edges that need smoothing, hurts that need healing. But it's a start—a step towards understanding and acceptance.

#meant to be: hogwarts era #Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic

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kmazine · 1 year ago

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I Can't Have You

bestfriend!jinyoung x female reader

genre : angst

For some reason, the walk back home feel so long and painful.

"Why it can't it be me?"

"I love you, Jinyoung"

You silently mutter under your breath. The words that you couldn't even say to him. The tears you don't bother to wipe, streaming down your face.

"Jinyoung, you okay?" You ask your best friend over the phone when your best friend called you an hour ago. It was late at night so you wonder why he call.

It was silent for a few seconds until you heard sniffles taking over the background noise that you register was from some television show. You didn't think much more. You immediately jump out from your bed and run towards your door.

"I'm coming" You heard Jinyoung replied with a sad hum and probably a nod, and that makes you fasten you steps. Luckily his apartment is not that far so you already in his apartment within minutes.

"Hey, you okay? How many days you've been drinking like this?" Closing the door behind you and took off your shoes, you can see few empty bottles of soju on the floor next to him. You immediately sit beside him on the floor. Your heart sank at the way his shoulder slouch, arms hugging his knees. He looks up to you when he hears your presence. And you look at him. Eyes swollen and he looks gaunt too. You scoot next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulder, hoping that you'd bring him comfort.

"We- we broke up" His tears starts to roll down his cheeks again as he said that. You let out a pain sigh, slowly wiping his tears with your fingers and pat his head softly.

"It's okay, Jinyoung. You will get through this. You will be fine okay?" You still stroking his hair, like an adult trying to persuade a child to not cry over candies.

"But I really love her, Y/n. It's been a few days and it hurts me that I can't see her face and listen to her voice. I can't do this Y/n. I miss her so much I feel like -- my heart..." He sniffled between words and voice quavering at the last part as he tapping his chest harder each sentences as if that will ever chase the pain away. You take his hands away and give him a tight grip, as to tell him, you're there for him. Your heart clenched to see him like this.

You know falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea. You've been liking him even before you became friend. Stealing glance at him during the class or sometimes exchanging smiles and nods when you saw each others is your definition of happiness back then. Then one semester, you and Jinyoung were assigned together for university projects and both of you clicked right away and the next thing you know, you two are inseparable as best friends. When you thought it's going to be easy for you and your feelings, but it was far from that.

Because from then on, Jinyoung see you as his best friend and best friend only.

Then start the cycle of your crumbling love story. You listen to his sobbing stories after the break ups like a best friend do. He try to match you with his other good friends because as a best friend, he want to see you happy with a good guy. Once, you ended up help him with the girl he likes because he just can't stop begging you.

Even after graduating and working on different companies, the cycle never end. And that's why it's hard. It's harder now to confess and tell him you love him. After everything, after all these years.

Especially this time, the relationship didn't seems like the others. He wasn't just smitten, and she didn't seem like the other girls she dated in the past. As much as you hate to admit it, he's definitely in love. You never thought they'll break up if you're being honest. She's a perfect woman any man can ever wish. It was perfect, as if they're actually made for each others.

You know asking him what happened now wont help him so you decided to make him a meal and tea to calm himself down. It was hard forcing the man to eat but you do every way you can and he finally give in.

"I don't know what will I do without you. Thank you Y/n" He give you a sad smile as he lays down on the couch. Deep sighs never left his mouth. You put the empty bottles in a plastic and put them aside and clean his messy living room.

"Glad I could help. You look too miserable for me not to to do that. I know it's hard but please, do not skip meals." You grabbing the blanket to cover his full body.

"Y/n?" He called for you so you lower yourself so your eyes meet on his level.

"Is it always this hard after the break up? It hurts so much. How can love be this painful huh? "He chuckles - probably knows how pathetic and sad he sound right now. You didn't say anything, just let him rambles more and give him another sympathetic smiles.

You make sure he was sleeping when you decided to leave. You're about to close the door when you heard his phone rings. You can hear Jinyoung shuffles to get up and the last thing you heard his voice saying her name. You closed the door shut, hoping that your heart closed the same for him.

There is a person that you can’t have even when you love them,

Just look at me, I’m next to you but I can’t have you,

I can’t have you.

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a.n : this one have been sitting in my draft for months now. This is based from Bank's I Can't Have You (korean old song) and the lyrics are just heart breaking so here we go. Again, please do not mind the grammatical mistakes and typos. I will fix it later from time to time. Because the more I re-read, the more I want to delete this so I'll just post first.

#got7 imagines #got7 oneshot #got7 scenarios #got7 angst #got7 x reader #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung oneshot #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #jinyoung angst #park jinyoung imagines #park jinyoung angst #park jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung imagine #park jinyoung oneshot

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jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 · 1 year ago

Text

Misunderstandings and Secrets

Summary: Ever since Bang Chan's mother met Y/N's father, their lives have been nothing but chaos. Can these two step siblings solve their differences and come to a conclusion. Bang Chan has been bullying reader because he doesn't know what to do with his feelings towards her.

If you do not like stepcest please move along this fic is not for you!

Content Warnings: dead dove Do Not Eat, sibling incest, step sibling incest, stepcest, cursing, pet names, oral (female and male receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), bullying, angst, fluff and angst, smut, angst with a happy ending, college au

Word Count: 4,227

Navigation

some background for the story

Bang Chan and Y/N had always known each other during their school years being only a few days apart in age, they're even in the same college. Y/N had even had a little crush on the brunette boy but recently all that changed.

Bang Chan's mum met Y/N's dad at a bar one night and that's when their worlds collided, they'd never been too close before but now they were forced to endure time together as their parents started to date.

It only took a short amount of time before they married and now they're all living together in the same house. Y/N has assumed Bang Chan must hate her now because his treatment of her has worsened over time and now he basically bullies her whenever they bump into each other at college which is how we get to this part of the story.

Main story starts here

Bang Chan is towering over Y/N as she sits trying to eat her lunch with a small crowd of 'friends' I guess you'd call them "look who's here boys" the brunette says to you as he wears a look of total distain on his usually pretty face. Y/N sighs at his antics "what do you want Bang Chan?" She lowers her eyes not wanting to meet his gaze "we just wanted to come and play with our toy" he leers putting on a sickly sweet voice as he grips her arm "get off me" she spits as she pulls her arm away from his grip but he follows as she tries to leave "why? You're my little toy remember? I wanna play with you now" his voice may sound sweet but his expression tells her a different story "fuck you!" She pushes him away and runs off to an empty lecture hall.

Bang Chan runs after her sadly and with his athletic build is easily able to catch up with her though without his friends following behind "stop running and come back here!" She shakes her head as she tries to jump away from him but he simply grabs her waist and pins her to the wall, his strong arms caging her in. She grunts in pain as her back hits the wall "What do you want from me Bang Chan?" He sinister looking grin crosses his face as he responds "I want you to sit there and take whatever I give you." Before she can ask what he means she notices he's taken his phone out and started snapping photos of her in this precarious position "I want to show the boys how cute my baby sis is" Y/N quickly turns her back embarrassed by his actions "Stop Bang Chan! Why are you sending them photos of me? And I'm NOT your baby sister I'm like 6 days younger than you!" She whines hiding her face against the wall away from her step brother "oh I haven't sent them just yet but I will and it's because I'm proud of you! Look how adorable you are, you're my adorable baby sister" he turns his phone to show her the photos he has snapped which only causing small tears of embarrassment to fall from her lashes.

In a small, broken voice she hardly recognises as her own she asks "please stop". A look of something she doesn't quite understand crosses Bang Chan's face but he shakes his head "oh don't cry. It only makes you look more adorable" Bang Chan grabs her face and uses her thumbs to wipe the tears away "see how adorable you look now?" Her brows furrow in confusion as she shakes her head sniffling slightly when she realises he's still holding onto her face ever so gently, catching stray tears with his thumbs. As another sniffle makes it way out of her body he frowns "what? You don't think your adorable?" Bang Chan's hold moves to her chin making her look at his face but again she shakes her head with tears rolling down her cheeks, a sob racks through her shaking chest "never thought you'd say something remotely nice to me... thought you hated me..." Her bottom lip wobbles slightly as more tears fall. Bang Chan lets out a deep sigh as he caresses her cheek before he smiles "no I don't hate you I never have. I think your absolutely adorable. And how can I hate something I love?" A look of shock flashes through her eyes "you love?" She gulps back some of the saliva pooling in her mouth at her nervousness "Since when have you ever loved anything about me?" Another sigh is released from his body and his posture slumps as though he's being weighed down by something "since you walked through our door with your dad. I'd always thought you were kinda cute but that day I realised I couldn't help but to feel an attachment to you. I couldn't understand everything I was feeling then but the more time we spent together... the angrier I got at our situation because I realised I liked you and there was fuck all I could do about it" his head drops now away from her eyes "so I just pushed you away, pretended I hated you because it was easier than loving someone I could never have" after his confession Y/N is frozen in her place against the wall "say something" Bang Chan whispers in a soft voice as he leans forward to kiss her cheek as delicately as he could as if she would crumble away at his touch.

She squeaks out a gasp at his words "I- I'm so sorry I didn't know... But our parents, we're step siblings now" she looks down at her shoes biting her lip as if to stop more thoughts tumbling out and ruining a surprising sweet moment between them "I never liked treating you so harshly, hearing you cry most nights broke my heart but it seemed better than admitting my feelings for you. Now I've told you though I don't know how I'll hold them in. And it makes me want to hold you close to my chest, makes me want to shield you from other men" Bang Chan bites him lip waiting for her to say something to him but all she does is scoff while looking down "got a shitty way of showing people you care huh?" She still hasn't looked at him yet, eyes on the floor when she hears him groan loudly "I'm poring my heart out here and you say that! I'm trying to tell you I care about you... A lot, okay!" Bang Chan takes hold of her face again and brings it close to his own face, his sudden movement has left her speechless as she lets him move her face as he wants, her eyes wide with shock at his outburst.

As Bangchan smiles at her he gives her a quick kiss on the lips "see I told you I care for you" Bang Chan chuckles softly to himself as he looks at her, her fingers tentatively move to her lips touching where he kissed her before she looks up to him still quiet from the shock of how things have suddenly changed between them. Bang Chan used his fingers to move some hair away from her face as he looks at her pink face "I love you" he murmurs sweetly "do you love me too?" Bang Chan tilting her chin up to look into her eyes.

Her eyes flit up to his own at the word 'love', she thinks for a moment before she slowly nods "... I- ... I've always wanted us to be closer, for you to actually like me even a little but I've always known that deep down I was disappointed that you would be my big brother because I knew I really liked you" he can't help but bite his lip at her words "well now I hope you know how much I care for you. I know we started out on the wrong foot, but I'll be better just for you okay Y/N?" Bang Chan gives her a tight hug as he smiles.

Y/N smiles brightly at his words, hugging him back tightly hiding her face in his buff chest "I'd like that Bang Chan" the brunette hugs her tighter to his body "I'm going to do everything I can to make you happy. And I won't treat you bad again, no more bullying either" Bang Chan nuzzles her head into him and holds her close.

She nods at his words her face still hidden in his chest before she looks up at him as he asks "wanna go home? I want to cuddle" Bang Chan grins "sure let's go home" she smiles as she pulls him out of the main entrance doors, she stops suddenly "what about your friends? Won't they wonder where you've gone" She asks with a sour look on her face at the mention of his friends. The man at her side scoffs at her question "oh don't worry about them, I'll tell them that I got sick or some shit. I can't let them ruin our moment" Bang Chan smiles as he pulls her into a dark alley and bends to give her a sweet and soft kiss "now lets head home". She follows him back to their home "We're back!" She shouts as they enter the living room but no one responds back showing the house is empty "are we alone?" Bang Chan asks as she looks around the room.

She hums to herself as she quickly checks the rooms downstairs "must be, lets go to your room" she tugs his hand as she leads him up the stairs "are you sure you wanna go to my room? I'm sure your room is prettier and cosier than mine? I want you to be comfortable Y/N" a small blush spreads over her cheeks as she nods "never been in your bedroom yet, was too scared to ask before" Bang Chan laughs as he pulls her to his door "are you sure your not scared of me? I'm a scary person remember?" He smirks while opening the door for them both to enter, she shakes her head and smiles as she moves into his room "not anymore" she intertwines their hands shyly "fuck you're so cute when your shy" Bang Chan closes the door behind her and locks it.

Y/N takes a moment to look around her step brothers room before she hears him speak again "now, lets cuddle shall we?" Bang Chan suddenly picks her up and runs with her throwing her into his bed while she giggles, then he snuggles up next to her looking down into her eyes as he strokes her face making her blush. Bang Chan cages her body under his own with his hands at her head holding his body up as he looks at her face before leaning down stopping himself just before her lips "can I?" He asks tentatively as his eyes drop down to her lips "yes" she whispers as his fringe tickles her forehead, at her confirmation he leans down and steals a kiss from her lips.

Bang Chan's kisses are soft and gently as he uses his hand to caress her face "I know it's wrong but I can't stop myself" he murmurs against her lips "I don't want you to stop Bang Chan" she loops her hands around his neck pulling him closer to her body as she kisses him back passionately tugging his plump bottom lip between her teeth as she pulls away.

Bang Chan groans against her lips stuttering out a broke "F-Fuck~" at her teasing actions, he moves his hand down to her back as the other hand gently goes to her hair. He presses his body against hers as he continues to kiss her with passion "I can't control myself anymore little sis" Bang Chan's face turns red as he smiles down at her pretty face "don't hold yourself back from me, I want you" she brushes her fingers down his chest as she lifts his shirt over his head admiring his defined abs.

Bang Chan shivers as she touches his body, he kisses and nibbles her neck leaving small red and purple marks as he goes "I want you so badly too baby" he whispers softly. Y/N can't help but admire his chiseled upper body, never having gotten a good look before now. She presses delicate kisses to his chest then up to his collarbone, leaving little nips as she goes along with her hands roaming his sides down to his pants. Bang Chan groans loudly as she kisses his chest and he pushes her up against his body.

Bang Chan's lips go back to her neck as he bites softly drawing soft moans from Y/N "you shouldn't mark me like this, people might ask questions... We can't... Answer..." Her thought trails off as she sighs contentedly, head tilting back as she feels his teeth graze her soft spot. She lifts her body up slightly parting their bodies just enough to pull off her shirt and unclasps her bra "who cares if they do, let them ask. I want to show you're mine" Bang Chan smiles down at her as he runs his fingers softly up and down her back.

Bang Chan pushes his body up for a moment to look at her breasts "fuck... I love your body babygirl, so much better than I ever imagined it'd look" a pink blush paints her cheeks as he stares at her body "Stop teasing me Bang Chan please~" she pulls him back down to her body "sorry, Y/N. I can't control myself after holding myself back so long" Bang Chan lays on top of her as his hand finds its way to her chest as he massages it.

Bang Chan moves down her body pressing kisses to her breasts and leaving kitten licks across her nipples, teasing them into small peaks "Mine" he mumbles possessively as he plays with his step sisters body, he grips onto her hips as his lips suck against her sensitive nipples one last time before he looks at her as she squirms in his hold "are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" She nods her head to show her understanding "I want this Bang Chan, want you, want us" she responds quietly as she shimmies out of her skirt then removes her panties too, showing her step brother she wants to give herself to him "fuck okay, just know that once we do this it'll be hard to go back" Bang Chan gives her a quick kiss on the lips as he smiles.

She nods again "I understand" she smiles at his insistence that this is something she wants before she spreads her legs to invite him in as her hands grip his strong arms, he grins widely as he moves between her thighs spreading them apart allowing himself access to her pretty pussy "are you ready babygirl?" he smirks and his hands lay against her spread thighs.

She blushes a soft shade of pink but smiles "I'm ready Chan" she bites her lip as he leans his head down pushing out his tongue to take a tentative lick at her slit, groaning as he gets his first taste of his sweet step sister "Wet already babygirl? Fuck~ all I did was play with your pretty tits" he can't help the smirk that finds its way to his lips.

He moans as he takes a long lick from bottom to top of her pussy, making her squirm slightly as he grabs her ass cheeks gently squeezing them and spreading her out further for his tongue to explore her body. She tips her head back as she feels his warm tongue spread apart her lower lips trailing kisses up until he reaches her clit where he sucks her into his waiting mouth, licking as he sucks gently. He growls softly as he continues to lick his step sister's pussy, enjoying every second of tasting her slick as he pushes two fingers inside her tight pussy while licking and sucking gently on her clit.

Her hands reach above her head to grip Bang Chan's bedsheets tightly as she falls apart on his skilled tongue, gasps and moans falling out of her mouth as she throws her head back into his plush pillows, legs starting to shake against his head "F-fuck Chan" he chuckles softly as he hears his step sisters moans, continuing to eat her out as he slides another finger inside her wet hole stretching her open ready for his thick cock. His other hand grips onto her thigh firmly keeping her steady as he licks faster and harder over her sensitive spot, tracing his name across her clit with his tongue "What is it babygirl? has no one fucked you this good with their tongue before" he teases possessively as he grips her thigh tighter.

She hiccups softly as tears start to roll down her cheeks, white hot pleasure coursing through her body "Never had a boy make me c-cum befo-" a moan cuts off her words as his fingers brush against her sweet spot "then let me give you something to remember, baby girl. I'll have you screaming my name all night long" he growls as he licks her clit using his tongue to tease her swollen nub, rubbing and teasing her walls with his fingers hitting her g-spot with every thrust. He uses his free hand to push her hip further to the side giving himself more space to work his magic on her, he thighs don't stop shaking as she grips his hair tightly in her dainty fingers.

Bang Chan has a smirk on his face as he continues his sensual actions "That's it little sister~ Cum on your step brothers tongue like the good girl you are" his fingers rock into her spasming walls faster as she squeezes his head between her thighs tightly the pleasure too much as one last suck to her clit tips her over the edge, she cums hard against his talented fingers. He plunges his finger into her slower now as he helps her ride out her orgasm, her breathing heavy as her body shakes.

He continues to finger her slowly taking his time to ease her down after her intense orgasm, he pulls back slightly to gently suckle on her clit before pulling back to look into her eyes and smirks "told you I'd give you something to remember babygirl" with her breathing still ragged she nods before grabbing his arm to pull his head back to her lips, kissing him passionately as she tastes herself on his tongue "your turn" she smiles as she pushes him onto his back and crawls down his body, kissing down his chest until she reaches his pants.

He chuckles lightly as she kisses his stomach, biting playfully at his skin as she undoes his belt buckle and unbuttons his jeans letting them fall around his ankles exposing his throbbing dick "Mmmh..you're such an eager little thing aren't you?" she immediately gets to work on his pretty cock using her tongue to lick up the pre cum leaking from his red and swollen head, after cleaning him up she takes him into her mouth using her tongue to massage the underside of his shaft as she sucks.

He groans loudly feeling her warm wetness engulfing his hard shaft, he grabs onto her hair firmly but not painfully as he gives her hair a little tug to get her attention "As good as your throat feels against my cock- Fuck~ I need to be inside you like now" he grunts as he feels her give his throbbing member one last suck before pulling off with a 'pop'.

She looks at him confused "But I haven't gotten to taste your cum yet" she whines feeling frustrated at being stopped but his soft chuckle lifts her attention back to her lovers face "You can taste me later babygirl~ right now I need to fuck you" he laughs softly seeing how cute she looked all pouty like that, he leans forward placing gentle kisses along her jawline and neck making sure to leave hickeys everywhere he went "you'll let me fuck you full of my cum, yeah?" he bites his lip looking at her cute face.

His words cause a whimper to fall out of her throat as she nods her head fast before laying herself back down on his bed with her arms held out to him, he grins to himself as he makes sure to tease her by running his cock up and down her slit taking extra time to rub his cock head against her clit, enjoying the moans and whimpers she made in response. She whines frustrated "Chan please" she shudders at his teasing before he finally holds his cock firmly in his hand before lining himself up with her pussy and slowly easing his cock into her wet warm hole.

He moans deeply feeling her tightness engulfing his member, he starts to pump in and out of her slowly as he pushes in until his full length has disappeared into her body, enjoying the way she grips onto his back as he moves within her, he leans his head down locking his lips with hers as they kiss "fuck Chan~ h-harder, need to feel you harder" she whines as his cock pounds into her causing her to grip his back tighter leaving small crescent shapes in his skin.

His smile widens even more hearing this, he speeds up his thrusts rocking the bedframe into the wall loudly with each thrust before he suddenly pulls out leaving her to whine in frustration "On your hands and knees babygirl~ I'll make sure to fuck you right~" she can practically hear his smirk as she maneuvers herself into position about to complain at the lack of dicking down she's getting when he re-enters her suddenly pushing her back down so he can pump into her faster and deeper making her wail out his name in pleasure.

He chuckles lightly seeing how much she enjoyed being taken roughly, he continues to pound away at her relentlessly not giving her any chance to catch her breath or rest "That's right babygirl... take every inch of your step brothers fat cock!" she's gripping the sheets in front of her tightly as he pounds into her, her mouth slightly open as he takes her from behind when he suddenly reaches his hand down to rub his fingers across her clit in time with his thrusts making her moan louder with each.

He smirks seeing how turned on she was by him rubbing her clit, he then grabs hold of her hips pulling them towards him and slams his cock deep inside her once again making her scream out loud "I want you to always remember how good I felt fucking your tight little pussy~" he softly nibbles her ear as he fucks into her wet hole making her thighs shake from the position he has her bent in "fuck~ can't last when you're sucking me in so good~" he moans as she clamps her walls down on this throbbing dick, he's rubbing her clit faster now matching his thrusts to hit her g-spot each time "Need you to cum first babygirl~" he groans as his grip on her hip tightens.

He begins pounding into her harder and faster his balls slapping against her ass each time he pumps his cock deep inside her. He lets go of her hip to push her body back down to the bed so he can slam his cock deeper inside her making her squirm beneath him "Cum for me babygirl~ I wanna feel that pussy soak my cock in your slick~" the repeated pounding of her g-spot and his fingers diligently rubbing her clit has her tumbling into orgasm faster than she expected, she falls forward thighs shaking as she shouts "C-Cumming Channie!" she grips the sheets tightly as she cums hard squeezing his dick tight as her cum leaves a ring of slick around the base of his cock "Good girl~" he chuckles as he feels her tight little pussy clamping down on his cock as she cums.

He thrusts into her one last time, slamming his dick inside her as he cries out her name "I'm going to cum babygirl~ Fuck! Fuck!" with a low groan he cums shooting his cum straight into her spasming pussy walls, he gives her a few shallow thrusts gripping her hips tightly as he comes down from his intense orgasm.

He pulls out slowly letting his softening member slip free from her well fucked cunt. He rolls himself off of her onto the bed before he looks at her lovingly and smiling mischievously asks "So how did it feel finally having a man make you cum?" she rolls onto her back and giggles "Good, really fucking good Channie" without thinking she cuddles herself into his strong arms leaving little kisses against his sweat streaked chest as their breathing evens out.

He kisses the top of her head before he speaks, his voice a raspy whisper "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself babygirl~" he pulls away to look at her and brushes her hair from her face "I know we've got a lot to talk about, about us and what we've done... but let's wait until tomorrow yeah? For now we can just enjoy each other" he bites his lip as he waits for her response. She nods her head agreeing to his words, they share a soft smile before he rolls out of bed to get a damp cloth cleaning Y/N off first then himself, throwing the cloth into a bin near his bed he lays back down with her in his arms so they can share soft kisses and sweet words before she inevitably has to go back to her own room as to not to arouse suspicion from their parents.

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sugolara · 9 months ago

Text

For as long as we live

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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Turns out, Tomura did trust Shoto to finally allow him to visit Sorston, or he was giving the boy comfort and when he least expects, Tomura will cage in. But, for now, he'll give the leader of Sorston satisfaction along with Shoto's friends. Though with Dabi by his side, they won't have a chance to talk and instead only share glances of worry like they're doing now.

Snapping his singers in the air, Tomura eyed Toga, "Go."

With a sickening grin, she yanked Ochaco and Izuku to her, happily skipping to the vehicle where Compress would also be joining, "Bye-bye! Don't wait up!"

Briefly, Izuku and Ochaco shared a glance at Shoto who had every right to worry about his friends leaving with a crazed murderer who has done unspeakable things. While their glance was to reassure each other, not even the two knew they were to be with the girl. Hopefully with Compress there, he'll deescalate the situation before things take a wrong turn.

"Are we ready to begin?" Nezu asked, clasping his hands behind his back. As for Tomura, he smiled, not a good intent was behind it as he began to move, "Show me the way, leader."

With exiting the gates and in the passenger seat, Izuku looked to the side-mirrors where Sorston would soon fade into the background. Thankfully, Katsuki and F/n left before Tomura arrived, or so he thought.

"That's the last bag." F/n said, throwing the remaining seeds to the chicken in their small pen.

From the sidelines, Katsuki watched. He had been given the same task, but after a chicken peeked his shoe and felt like he would accidentally step on a baby chick, he refused to do the job and instead let the girl do it. Besides, she had experience, "I can't believe you convinced me to do this shit. You know Glasses is out looking for guns, right? Since when did you ever pass that up."

She shrugged, flicking her fingers as a few seeds were stuck on her skin, "I don't know. I think ever since I found love I've decided to turn over a new leaf."

He looked at her with an unreadable expression, "...Seriously?"

"No." She scoffed, balling up the empty bag, unaware of the relief breath that he let out, "It is pretty shocking I passed on that, but for some reason I don't feel like going. It's weird—I feel weird."

He didn't know what to say to that as his attention averted to the side of them where the entrance to the farm was placed. He could hear chattering and faintly see a figure he didn't recognize, "You probably feel weird 'cause you have never been in a society with this many people on your own terms. Your ass was desperate for human contact and now that you have it you don't know what it feels like."

She gave him a quick glare, feeling rather offended, "...I guess."

"You guess?" He continued to eye the figure and when he saw more, he concluded they were Tomura's men, "More like I'm right."

Hearing a cluck below her, she crouched to pick up the hen that gave no fight, allowing her to hold it. She then stood up, holding the hen in her palm, having the small animal lean to its side as her other hand caressed its shiny coat of feathers, "I think I just like chickens."

He rolled his eyes to her, though when he did, he flinched back, startled by the hen's head only a few inches away from his eyes, "Why are you touching it without gloves!? Little shits probably contaminated with diseases!"

"Nah." She waved him off, giving a tiny smile to the anilama, "Little Lady looks healthy to me."

"Do not start naming it." He kept his distance, "You'll get attached to the thing and when she's the last chicken to remain she'll be everyone's dinner—including yours."

"Yeah, yeah." She ignored him, her eyes still on the small animal. With that look in her eyes, he would have guessed the hen was her long lost love. Either that, or she really loved chickens. It was actually kind of cute. Especially when she moved her hands to move the chickens body and its head staging in a single position.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he reluctantly looked away, "Put it down before you start another virus."

A sigh left her, "Fi–"

"Give it." At the sound of an unfair voice, they turned to look at the person and up realizing it was Tomura's men retrieving his supplies, her resting face returned as she handed the hen over to the male whoo then walked away. However, when his glare was no longer in the wait, her eyes widened as she made eye contact with Shoto. The same went for Katsuki, but knowing his older brother was bedside him, he kept a low profile and looked back at the girl, hoping to catch her attention.

He never did as her eyes scanned his fure to see if he held any injuries, though it was tough to tell from his clothed figure. To the naked eye he looked fine, even healthy, no doubt from the endless food of the building where he was being held.

As the gate to the small chicken land was next to her. She opened it to head for Shoto, but with the blonde quickly stopping her and at her glare he glared back. With talking in the background it helped silent Katsuki's voice, "Don't. His brother's next to him."

When looking at the raven male, her mind clicked. The resemblance was there. She never once looked away even when the older male turned to her, both silently and judgingly staring. It was Katsuki who then once again blocked her vision, giving the satisfaction to Dabi who began to walk away with Shoto, helplessly following behind.

The mismatched boy did look back to them before turning away. It did feel good to see they were doing alright and it made him feel better to see she never left as the second he heard he was going to Sorston he felt overwhelmed at the fact he'd never see her. While the overwhelm over her left, it grew onto Izuku as he caught the eye of a psycho.

Taking in a breath, he hoped he was alright—Izuku and Ochaco.

"Breathe in the fresh flowers, Ochaco!" Toga excitedly placed an artificial flower near her nose, "Doesn't it smell nice?"

"Toga, it's fake." Compress mumbled, eyeing the expiration of a painkiller. He then handed it to Izuku—who kept a close eye on the pink-cheeked girl. If anything were to happen there's not much he could do. All his weapons were confiscated, leaving him with nothing. If a rotter appeared, Toga or Compress had to take care of it.

And speaking of the dead, the growls and mangle figure emerging from the shadows of the store gathered their attention. The freckle male placed his bag on the floor, carefully watching as the dead approached him, "Hand me a knife and i'll take care of–"

A knife then flew past him. He saw the blade shine from the sunlight hitting it before it penetrated the dead's head. Behind him, Toga threw her balled fist in the air, "Alright! One point to me!"

"You're getting pretty good at this." Mr. Compress said, heading to retrieve the knife while passing Izuku, he smiled underneath his mask, "Just pack the supplies, boy. Your safety is in our hands."

Toga zoomed past him with a grin on. While it wasn't best to have her back turned to Izuku and Ochaco, she knew they wouldn't try anything as she'd easily take them down, especially since they had no weapons. With her focus on the dead, the pink-cheeked girl moved to her past crush, quietly speaking to him, "It's not what you expected, huh?"

He turned to her with a puzzled expression, slinging his bag to his back, "Expected?"

She looked out the window next to them, "When looking back before arriving, you wouldn't expect to be here with someone who has an obsession and could easily kill you."

"Oh." He frowned, looking at the rack in front of him. He picked up a credit card of video games, "No, but, I should have. When Eijiro first told us about Tomua, I overlooked it. I was more focused about the idea of not having to be outside, somewhere I could comfortably live. I should have been more focused on the danger than what I really wanted."

A quiet sigh left him, pacing the gift card back into its slot, "Having to watch your back every second gets paranoiac. It's exhausting and...I'm just really tired of everything."

There was a different meaning in what he said and she knew it all too well, "There's a price to everything, but I don't mind when I'm with my friend. Being outside the walls gets lonely and if I had given up I would have never gotten the chance to see any of you again."

"You weren't completely alone, though. You had someone with you, right?" He questioned whilst eyeing her, expecting—or wanting her to admit she had company, but the look on her face said otherwise and he had brought memories of her parents. "No."

She grimly smiled and avoided looking at him, "It was just me for months."

He frowned with bows furrowed in despair. While he was with people, she had to endure loneliness and being alone is no way for a human to live. After they had departed from her, she had came home to no sight of her parents as the only thing that remained was a dead with a bulging stomach. With sorrow he tried to reach and place a comforting hand on her shoulders, but a knife flew between them, halting his movements.

"What are you talking about?" Toga smiled with narrowed eyes. She pointed her knife at them, "Why are you guys being so secretive?"

Quickly, Izuku spoke up, "I was just wondering what she had been doing before arriving at the community. That's all, nothing secretive is going on."

When Toga's eyes moved to Ohaco, she nodded, "We didn't want to annoy you."

The blonde stared at them for a couple seconds before replacing her knife away, "Hurry and get everything. There's a couple more places we need to go before night."

Letting out a sigh from his nose, Compress waved his hands, "Come along this way, kids."

Passing by Toga, they released an internal sigh of relief.

Throwing in crates of fresh produce in the back of the truck, Shoto held in his own several series of sighs. For the time he's been gone, it seems like Momo had been growing the vegetable without him. He wanted to get a chance to speak with her about where she was held at the beginning of the apocalypse if she wasn't with him. Her family was also important, but he was kind of glad she wasn't here. Otherwise she might have cracked under the pressure of the looks of the males around.

Reaching for another crate in the rolling cart, a different set of hands came into view, causing him to look and whisper, "They see you helping me and it's not going to end well. Leave."

"Tsk." Katsuki glared down at the items, "They told me. Said something about a crazy bitch coming anf wanting everything to be packed. DOn't know, they just oiinted at me and told me to help."

He hummed softly, pushing a crate to the front of the truck and allowing more space, "...Where's F/n?"

They both gave a glance, hiding in their surprise that they made eye contact. Despite the contact lasting a couple seconds, they instantly knew what it was. "They had her do something else."

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Dabi speaking with someone else, "How are you?"

"What do you think?" Katsuki scoffed, crouching down to pick up a box of what seemed like canned food, "It's not all sunshine and rainbows like we thought."

However, a sigh then left the blonde's lip, tasking in the sour of his words that easily escaped his lips, "Apart from Deku and F/n. In their world, it's filled with disgusted kisses and love. Gross."

Shoto halted his movements and it didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. It was a good thing Shoto never went through in sending those letters, otherwise, it'd be an intense moment with his friends. Displaying the grim feeling, he continues in moving the supplies, "I didn't know... Since when?"

Katsuki shrugged, staring off in the distance, "Hell if I know."

"Wha–" The bi-cloed male was then interrupted by his brother. "Shoto, there are more here. Tell your friend he's done."

Giving each other a goodbye glance, the blonde walked away, reluctantly. He made no move in looking at Dabi as if he did, who knows what his outcome will be. While it was good to know Shoto was okay and in custody of his brother, it did concern Katsuki of his future. Whether Shoto decided to return all would be well. Though if the chances that he would instead stay where his brother resided, he hoped he was ready for whatever would come next.

Green orbs stared at what appeared to be a reptile cage. As said for the reptile, the lizard had already decomposed, leaving no sign of it ever existing. It went the same for every animal, though looking at a few broken cages, Izuku wondered whether some had managed to escape before succumbing to death.

Holding in a shiver, Izuku stood to his height, "What's here that we need?"

"We're supring Spinner with a lizard." Toga smiled, looking at every glass, "Even if it's a dead one."

"They all escaped." Izuku mumbled as they entered the fish station.

She hummed, eyeing the broken tanks before her eyes flickered to him, "You know, Izuku, I was thinking you would be better off coming with me—you and Ochaco. There's nothing for you in your community, so there's nothing you would be missing."

He averted his attention to her with bros slightly furrowed, hesitating to speak. She was wrong. There are a few things he'd be missing. Everyone he knew resided in that community and he wasn't just about to leave them to please her. Their views were different and no way in hell was he going to change everything he went against.

"I know Shoto would like the company." She smiled balefully as she looked at the pretty, shiny shard.

But on the other hand, Shoto has no one, "...I'm not useful, so I wou–"

"Of course you are!" She exclaimed, startling him as she grinned with a dark blush, pricking her finger purposefully, "You're a smart guy, Izuku. You'll quickly figure out your role and if you haven't then we'll help."

Dropping the shard, it broke into tiny pieces. Her lips then rested, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice, "I've noticed, you're very observant. In a world like this, that's very useful. If we had found you first, you would've been a great addition and those morals you're still holding onto would easily disappear with us. Everyone thinks we're the bad guys, but we're only trying to live, just like you. If I hadn't been around the area Tomura was, I would probably be dead with all those freaks and you know what? I've never felt more happi–I found my family and so will you. Don't think you're any less than what you really are, Izuku. You're not that much different than us."

There was a different look in his green eyes. This time, it didn't hold distaste.

"Toga." Mr. Compress came into view with Ochaco behind. The sun was dying and they needed to return back, "It's time to head home."

She nodded, grinning once more as she held the hands of Izuku, skipping towards the exit. He understood him, but he was left with conflicted feelings.

At the gates, the sun had already gone down. Nezu and Tomura were finishing up and thankfully, Toga had herself distracted with the supplies, giving Izuku time to speak with Shoto. They shred a glance, a silent heavy breath escaping their chest. "I'm glad to see you're okay."

"Me too." Shoto replied, giving him a tiny smile, but it left the moment he remembered who was the one keeping him company at nights, "How did the run go?"

"Surprisingly," Izuku gave him a half-smile, "It went well."

They both hummed, a breeze in the air sending chills.

"Do you know..." Izuku hesitated to continue, feeling unwell about his question. He wasn't sure if Shoto had decided to stay with his brother, on his will. If that was the case, then he hoped nothing would change between them, "when you'll be coming back?"

His lips were pressed tightly together, looking to where Tomura began to get into his vehicle, signaling it was time to leave, "...I'm not sure."

But between them, they both knew he wasn't returning anytime soon.

Seeing Dabi send a look to Shoto, Izuku let out an internal sigh filled with unhappiness. To reassure Shoto—but most himself—he smiled, "I'll see you next time...?"

Hearing his brother call him, Shoto returned the smile, "'Till next time, Izuku."

Only the sounds of their vehicles could be heard leaving and soon followed the gates shutting close. With their headlight no longer lighting the area, Izuku stood in the darkness, eyeing the gates that had its tarp over, fluttering thanks to the wind. Only after the night patrol took their shift did Izuku go home where he saw Katsuki cleaning the kitchen.

"Finally, you're home." The blonde placed the last plate away, "We thought your ass went with that psycho chick."

The freckle male hummed, his smile coming back, "I was talking with Shoto. Did you get a chance to see him?"

"No." He lied as he along with F/n were supposed to be with Tenya. It was best to not start an argument this late, "What did he say?"

"Honestly...not much." Izuku mumbled, "He did look okay and I think with his brother there it helps keep him afloat."

"Yeah." The blonde replied, "Anyways, I made dinner—which you're fucking welcome. For someone who was raised by a survivalist and raised by a single mother, neither of you can cook for shit."

"Thank you, Kacchan." He offendly looked at him before looking at the direction of the stairs, "Speaking of F/n, where is she?"

Katsuki glared at the ceiling which would be where their room was placed, "Probably asleep. She's gotten lazy."

Seeing Izuku leave and his steps thumping against the stairs had Katsuki tightly close his eyes with hands clenching.

Arriving at the door, Izuku smiled as she placed a shirt over tank top, "Hey."

She looked over, "Yo."

"Did you eat dinner?" He asked and she shook her head, "No, we decided to wait for you...or until we got tired."

He let out a breath. Before he could continue, her voice rang out. "You know, I was thinking of going somewhere."

Confusion was written on his face. There wasn't anywhere to go and he wondered if she was implying on leaving like she always wanted, "Where would you want to go...?"

She shrugged, looking at the photo of the day when Hanta turned 15, "I was thinking...Tokyo."

At that he let out a short laugh, "Tokyo? What are we going to do there? Considering its miles away it would take days to even reach the city, besides, I'm sure there's nothing left."

"It's my fantasy." She replied, smiling as he sat next to on the bed, " Tokyo's pretty big, so maybe we'll find something..."

Her brows furrowed as the sudden idea had her wondering what life could have been like if they had met before the apocalypse. With Izuku talking in the background, she imagined it. She could imagine going shopping. Holding hands. Eating each other's unhealthy food and even kissing in public like those couples she'd often glare at when they blocked her path. She would do cliche stuff, because that's all she knew. Would she even talk about how much she loved him like it would be the last time she would see him? A definite yes, because she did love him.

"...Maybe even have a dog named Little 'Suki." She mumbled to herself, but with Izuku next to her he had heard and let out a laugh that brought her back to reality.

"Are you implying that Kacchan's out dog?" He said with a big grin and the most noticeable blush on his freckled cheeks.

"It's fitting—don't tell him I said that." She felt warm and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. If she had the talent of never blinking she would stare at his magnificent, unspeakably soft face. She was lucky, incredibly lucky like the gold star she always often dreamed of, "..I love you, Izuku."

She wondered if he even heard her as she softly said, but she was proven wrong as he placed a kiss on her forehead, her skin tingling at his lips, "I love you, F/n."

#izuku x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto x y/n

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lilmeowzsworld · 3 months ago

Text

Blades of Passion - Chapter One

Pairing: ice skater!Yoongi x costume designer!OC

Summary: Min Yoongi, a skating prodigy with a troubled past, is determined to win the championshio and honor the memory of his late mother. But when his management team brings in Kim Iris, a bold and fiercly creative costume designer, their worlds collide in an explosive clash of personalities.

Warnings: mentions of death

Word count: Almost 8K

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A/N: Idea brought by an AI picture. I'm gonna try to write it til the end, but no promises on posting on regular basis. I didn't proof read, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize

The rink echoes with the sharp rhythm of blades cutting though ice. Min Yoongi glides across the surface with calculated precision, each movement executed like a well-rehearsed machine. His body follows a famliar pattern – flawless jumps, seamless spins, every angle sharp and deliberate. He knows exactly what comes next. But underneath the quiet determination, the strain is obvious. His brow is furrowed, a tightness in his face that betrays the calm he forces on the outside. His body moves as if it knows what's expected of it, but there's a disconnect in the way he carries himself, as though the performance is a burden.

He lands a particularly difficult jump, his legs absorbing the impact, but the relief of completion doesn't come. The quiet hum of the rink is deafening in his ears, and for a moment, he feels weightless, not in the way he expects, but as if he's fading from the world around him. The ice beneath him feels less like a foundation and more like a void.

He takes a slow breath, his chest tight, but it's not the physical strain he's fighting. It's the void. The hollow space that's grown between every move, every jump. His performance is precise, but it no longer brings the rush it once did. The perfect routine – something he's spent years crafting – feels meaningless. Like a ghost of something he lost. What is he missing? Why isn't the satisfaction there? The question lingers as the ice beneath him reflects only the cold, perfect relfection of someone who doesn't know what he's skating toward anymore.

From the sidelines, Mr. Park's voice cuts through the rhythm of the ice, sharp yet laced with concern. „Yoongi, focus! You're rushing it.“

Yoongi barely hears him. His body moves on autopilot, pushing him forward in a blur of praciced motions. He doesn't slow down, doesn't take the time to process the words. The frustration clings to him like a weight, something that sits heavy on his chest and refuses to let go. It's easier to move faster, to keep the rhythm of going, to outrun the discomfort that tightens around his throat. His mind is numb, his movements mechanical, driven more by instinct than intent. But even the instinct feels cold, distant, disconnected.

Each jumo, each turn, is a calculated step, but there is no relief. The need to control is suffocating, the drive to succeed almost a compulsion. Beneath it all, something else stirs – something that refuses to stay burried. A pain, raw and familiar. The grief that has been gnawing at him, lurking beneath the surface, is now impossible to ignore.

He spins again, the force of it dizzying, but the air feels thick, almost suffocating. The tightness in his chest deepens. The need for perfection grows louder, but it drowns out everything else – the ache in his ribs, the emptiness inside him that his flawless routine can't fill.

Mr. Park's voice is just noise now. Distant, muffled, fading into the background like all other voices that have become white noise. They're just things to push away. Things to block out, just like the grief. Just like the memory of her.

Yoongi doesn't answer, his mind too clouded by frustration to even register the coach's voice. The words fall away, irrelevant against the rising tide of tension within him. He drives himself into the next jump, pushing harder, faster, as if the sheer physical exertion will quiet the chaos in his head. The effort feels empty. His body is tight, coiled with frustration, but it does nothing to release the pressure building inside him.

As he spins, the air around him feels thick – his movements stilted, ungraceful. The height is off, the angle wrong. The landing is far from the perfection he demands, and he stumbles, the edge of his blade scraping against the ice with a shrill screech that slices through the rink's quiet.

The noise rings in his ears, and a flash of anger surges through him – sharp and quick. His hands slam the ice as he crashes down, fingers curling into the cold surface, grounding him in the sting. The pain feels like a brief anchor, but it's not enough. It doesn't dull the weight pressing on his chest, the suffocating frustration that has been building for days, for months, maybe longer. The perfection he chases slips further out of his reach with each failed attempt, and something deep inside him snaps.

Without a second thought, he's up again, standing before the sound of the fall has even died. He doesn't care that his body aches or that the fall could have been worse. There's not time for weakness. No time to feel anything other than the drive to keep moving on, to keep fighting. The ice is cold beneath him, but it doesn't matter. Everything inside him is colder still.

„Again,“ Yoongi mutters under his breath, the word barely more than a whisper. It's not meant for anyone else. It's a command to himself, a demand to move past the mistake, to force the imperfection from his mind. He doesn't allow himself the space to breathe, to process the failure. There is no room for it. Not here. Not now.

He resets himself, positioning his body with precision. His muscles are tense, rigid, each movement a deliberate attempt to block out the unease gnawing at him. His mind is a blur, thoughts rushing forward like a clock ticking too fast, pushing him to focus solely on the next attempt, on the next perfect jump. But the weight of the routine is like a stone in his chest, pressing down, relentless. Every move feels like it has to be flawless – not for anyone watching, but for him.

The air around him feels thick with expectation, suffocating him. He wants to control it all, to force everything into perfection, but the harder he tries, the more it slips through hs fingers. His hands tighten at his sides, the palms slick with the same nervous tension that coils around his insides.

He can't stop. He won't. Not until he gets it right. The drive to push through is instinctive, rooted deep in him. It's the only way he knows to exist in this moment: to keep moving, to keep trying, to drown out the frustration with more effort, more control. Because if he stops, even for a second, the weight of everything will break through – the grief, the loss, the emptiness – and he won't know how to handle it.

Mr. Park steps onto the rink, his presence calm but unwavering. The sound of his boots crunching on the ice cuts through the silence, a contrast to the constant rhythm of Yoongi's movements. He walks toward Yoongi, his gaze steady but unreadable. „Yoongi, stop. You're overthinking it. Let the routine breathe. Trust it.“

Yoongi's jaw tightens, his hands stilling at his sides, but the frustration rises quickly. The words don't settle in him – they grate, they irritate. His eyes narrow, a flicker of anger pulling at the corner of his expression. They feel like a challenge, like a challenge he can't afford. But they also feel like an accusation.

He's worked for this. Eery practice, every move has been meticulously planned, perfected, all in an effort to control the outcome. Control the performance. Control himself. Each repetition has been a step toward his idea of success, and he's used the perfection of his routines as armor to block out everything else – the grief, the emptiness. The thought of letting go, of trusting the routine, feels like an invitation to fail. To risk it all.

To hear his coach – someone he respects, someone he's relied on for guidance – tell him to trust the routine, to let it breathe, is a betrayal of everything Yoongi has built. It's not just advice. It's a shift in the foundation of what he's been trying to do. Mr. Park is asking him to release control, to embrace imperfection, and Yoongi can't let go of the thought that doung so would unravel everything.

In the silence that follows, Yoongi feels the weight of Mr. Park's gaze, steady but firm, not understanding the pressure Yoongi is under. The coach's calm contrasts sharply with the storm brewing inside him. Mr. Park doesn't see the space Yoongi is trying to fill with his skating – doesn't understand the reason perfecton has become his shield.

„It's not about breathing,“ Yoongi spits, his voice biting, cutting through the silence with a sharp edge. The words come out before he has a chance to think, a reflexife response to the frustration building inside him. „It's about winning.“

The words linger in the air, heavier than he expects. He doesn't even try to soften them. They are a declaration, as much to himself as to Mr. Park. The truth, or at least what feels like the truth, to him right now. He wants to win. That's what this all has to mean. The skating, the routines, the control – it's all about proving something. Not to the world, but to the only person who matters in these quiet moments.

For a brief second, his gaze slips away, avoiding Mr. Park's steady stare. The weight of the coach's calm, his unwavering presence, makes Yoongi feel exposed. Like the thin facade of control he's built is being stripped away, piece by piece. But the thought of his mother, of her endless expectations, pulls him back. It's sharp, like a jolt to his chest, and he doesn't have time to process it fully before the need to prove himself surges forward again.

He has to win. It's the only thing that matters. The only thing that makes sense. If he wins, he'll have done something. If he wins, maybe then, the emptiness inside him will be filled, even just for a moment. The victory will be proof – not just for others, but for her, for the memory of everything she wanted for him. The sacrifice, the years spent training him, the dream she held on to. He can't fail. Not now.

„Skating's not just about technique,“ Mr. Park counters, his voice softer now, but still steady. „It's about telling a story. You've forgotten that.“

The words hit harder than Yoongi expects. It's not just criticism – it feels like something deeper, a challenge to the way he's built his entire approach to skating. He can feel his jaw tightening, his chest tightening, as if the words are an assault on everything he's tried to rpotect. His eyes flash with irritation, the frustration that's been simmering now turning into something sharper, something darker.

He moves forward, his body instinctively moving closer to Mr. Park, but it's not to engage in conversation. It's a challenge, a defense. „I don't ned stories,“ Yoongi snaps, his voice low but raw. There's an edge to it, a frustration that surprises even him. The words come out but before he can stop them, as though the thought of skating as something more than a methodical task is an offence to him. „I need results.“

His hands curl into fists at his sides, the physical manifestation of the battle raging inside him. There’s an ache in his chest, an unsettling tug at the back of his mind. The idea of skating as an art form, as a medium for something deeper than mere precision, is so foreign to him that it feels almost threatening. It opens a door he’s been keeping locked for so long – a door that leads to emotions, to vulnerability, to the kind of uncertainty he can’t afford to confront.

Vulnerability isn’t an option in his world. Not anymore. Not since everything changed. Since he learned to block out the things that hurt, to control every movement and every part of himself so that he wouldn’t have to feel the weight of his mother’s absence. The thought of skating as an expression of emotion, of telling a story, feels dangerous. It feels like a crack in the armor he’s worked so hard to build.

On the ice, he needs certainty. He needs control. Stories are messy. They make room for weakness. And Yoongi doesn’t have space for that. Not here. Not in this arena where every slip, every mistake is magnified. The ice isn’t just a place for competition – it's a place to prove that he has mastered every part of himself, that he doesn’t need anyone’s approval, anyone’s emotional connection.

The coach sighs, his gaze softening with something that Yoongi can’t quite place, but it’s not concern. It’s something else – something closer to resignation. His voice is quieter now, a note of sadness threading through his words. „You’re pushing too hard. You can’t outrun your grief with this perfection.“

The words hit Yoongi with a force he wasn’t prepared for. They cut through the rigid control he’s carefully built, striking a nerve he’s been guarding for so long. His jaw tightens again, a muscle in his cheek twitching with the effort to hold back the surge of anger rising in him. He looks away quickly, unable to meet the coach’s eyes. The last thing he wants is for someone else to see what he’s been so carefully hiding. His face hardens into the mask he’s perfected over the last few months – emotionless, untouchable.

„I'm not grieving,“ he spits, his voice colder than before, but there’s a sharpness in it that betrays him. His words feel like armor, but it’s fragile. The denial is loud in his mind, but the silence between them is deafening. He wants to believe it, wants to convince himself that it’s true. He’s not grieving. He’s skating. Skating has always been the thing that kept him focused, kept him from falling apart.

But the weight of his own words sits heavily in the air, thick with tension, with the refusal to acknowledge what’s been buried beneath his attempts at perfection. The grief is always there, lurking just below the surface, and no amount of control, no amount of precision on the ice can change that. It doesn’t matter how many routines he perfects, how many flawless performances he delivers. It won’t fill the space left by his mother. The ache doesn’t go away, no matter how many times he spins or jumps or lands perfectly.

He doesn’t need anyone – least of all his coach – telling him what's burried under all the skill and the control. That part of him, the one that hurts, the one that misses her, has no place in his world. Not here. Not in this space where everything has to be precise, calculated, controlled. The ice is the only place where he feels like he can hold everything together. But even that feels like it's slipping away, the cracks widening with each moment he has to face reality.

It's easier to bury it all, to focus on the next jump, the next routine, the next perfect move. It’s easier to chase perfection than to confront the raw, jagged truth of what he’s lost. He knows this. But the more he pushes, the more he denies, the heavier it all feels. And yet, he can’t stop.

He takes position again, his body stiff with focus. Every movement is precise, deliberate – too precise. There's no room for anything but the routine, no space to let anything slip. His arms stetch into the perfect arc, his posture an image of control, but beneath the surface, the effort to maintain that control is immense. The tension in his shoulders is so tight it almsot feels like it could snap. His face is drawn, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck taut from holding back the emotions he refuses to let surface.

Each spin is a deflection. Each line in the air, a refusal to admit that there's something more he needs than the perfection he's so determined to achieve. It's a silent rebellion against the very thing Mr. Park suggested – the the idea that he might need something other than the cold, unyielding drive for victory. But he can’t let that idea in, not now. If he lets it in, if he acknowledges it, everything will unravel. The grief, the frustration, the guilt – all of it will flood back, and he won’t be able to contain it. Not here, not in this space where he’s supposed to be invincible.

So he skates alone. It’s always been this way, and it’s easier to stay here, in this self-imposed isolation. The ice is a safe place – a place where the emotions he’s learned to bury don’t have room to break free. The people in the stands, the noise of the arena, they’re all distant. He’s untouchable, an iceberg, a wall of discipline and effort that keeps the world at bay. But as much as he wants to appear untouchable, something is slowly cracking. His chest is tight, the weight of the grief still there, gnawing at him beneath the cool exterior.

He doesn’t let anyone in. Not even Mr. Park. Not even the memory of his mother, whose image he’s pushed away every time it threatens to resurface. Winning is the only thing that matters. Winning is the only thing that will keep him from drowning in all of it – the loss, the emptiness, the things he doesn't know how to fix.

Yoongi steps into the locker room, the familiar sting of exhaustion settling into his muscles. Every movement is slow, deliberate, as if he can delay the inevitable ache for just a moment longer. The ice still clings to his skin, the burn from hours of practice not quite fading. He runs a hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that seems to gather faster than he can push it away. His mindm though, feels just as heavy. The emptiness that's followed him all day is more pronounced now, and no amount of skating, no amount of perfection, seems to fill it. It's there, persistent, and it's settling deeper in his chest.

He wants nothing more than to be left alone, to let the cold of the locker room seep into his bones and numb everything for a while. Maybe then the ache will fade. Maybe then the pressure to keep performing, to keep up the mask, will subside, even just for a few minutes.

But as he's about to peel off his gear and give into the quiet, he hears a voice – a voice he's come to dread, though he won't admit it.

„Well, if it isn't the ice robot himself.“

The words land with a weight. They always do. Yoongi freezes for a moment, a muscle in his jaw tightening instinctively. He doesn't turn around, not yet. It's not that he doesn't know who it is; he knows exactly who is speaking. The tone is familiar – mocking, but with an undercurrent of something he can't quite place. He just doesn't want to face it. Not now.

His fingers twitch, a reflexive motion toward the gear that feels like it might as well be weighing him down now. The voice, the words – they they only serve to remind him of the distance he’s created between himself and everyone else. To be called a robot, to be reduced to a machine on ice, is the last thing he needs. But he knows the label fits. That’s how he’s built himself – detached, focused, devoid of anything that might make him seem weak or vulnerable. And yet, hearing it out loud still feels like a punch in the gut.

Yoongi finally looks up, his gaze cold, to see Kang Hyunsoo leaning casually against the lockers. The smirk on Hyunsoo's face is familiar – too familiar – and it makes Yoongi's stomach tighten. It's the kind of smirk that speaks of someone who enjoys pushing buttons, who relishes in finding weaknesses in others. And Yoongi's weakness? It's always been the cracks in his control.

Hyunsoo's presence is like an itch Yoongi can't scratch, always there when he doesn't need it, always ready to disturb the quiet space Yoongi has carved out for himself. The smugness is irritating, but more than that, it's predictable. Yoongi has been here before, over and over. Hyunsoo isn't just another rival. He's a reminder of everything Yoongi works hard to keep hidden. The things he doesn't want to acknowledge about himself.

The comment stings more than Yoongi wants to admit, and he forces his face into an unreadable mask. His mouth tightens, but he doesn't respond right away. He doesn't need to. Hyunsoo's words are just noise, designet to rattle him, to draw him out of his carefully constructed shell he's built. but Yoongi's control is a fragile thing. Every word from Hyunsoo chips away at it, each jab a reminder of his own insecurities.

„You looked good out there,“ Hyunsoo continues, his voice too sweet to be genuine. „For a guy who moves like he's got a stick up his ass.“

Yoongi doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. His body is still, as if the words don’t reach him, as if he’s already distanced himself from the conversation before it even begins. He pulls off his skate guards with a steady hand, every motion deliberate, controlled. There’s a strange comfort in that – knowing that the world can throw whatever it wants at him, but he will remain unaffected. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He glances at Hyunsoo, his eyes cold and indifferent, a mask he’s perfected over years of practice.

„I don't need your approval.“

The words come out flat, almost mechanical. They don’t feel like they belong to him, but he says them anyway. Hyunsoo, however, won’t let it go. The way Hyunsoo moves closer, the gleam of amusement in his eyes, reminds Yoongi that this is what Hyunsoo thrives on – provoking, testing, finding the cracks in the armor Yoongi works so hard to maintain. It’s always a game to him.

„It's not approval you need,“ Hyunsoo taunts, his voice dripping with mockery. „It’s passion, something you clearly don’t have.“

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, the words finding their mark. It’s not the first time he’s been accused of being cold, of skating without feeling, but it never gets easier. The comment is a jab at the very thing Yoongi has spent years hiding. His entire identity, everything he’s built, revolves around keeping his emotions in check. To be called out for that – his lack of passion, his refusal to let anyone in – it hits deeper than he lets on. He tells himself that passion is a weakness. That it has no place on the ice. But deep down, somewhere he refuses to acknowledge, he wonders if it’s true.

Hyunsoo steps in even closer, his voice lowering, taunting. „You skate like a machine. It’s no wonder you’ve got no heart in it. No wonder you’ll never really make it.“

Yoongi’s jaw tightens at Hyunsoo’s words, his breath catching for a brief moment. A flicker of something darker flashes behind his eyes, but it’s gone before anyone can notice. His reaction is brief, but it’s there – the sting of Hyunsoo’s words cutting deeper than he’s willing to admit. It’s not the first time Hyunsoo has provoked him, and it won’t be the last. But today, the words hit harder than usual. They cut through the thin veneer of control he’s been clinging to, a reminder of how much he’s trying to hold together.

He’s learned not to react. Not outwardly, at least. But the pressure inside him is rising. The anger is there, raw and immediate, but it’s not the anger that scares him – it's the frustration. The sense of being seen, really seen, by someone who knows exactly how to get under his skin. Hyunsoo’s words are meant to break him, to expose the cracks he’s so carefully hidden, and for a second, Yoongi feels the weight of that. It’s like Hyunsoo can see through the walls he’s built. The cold, controlled exterior, the mask he wears every day, suddenly feels fragile.

Yoongi’s hands curl into fists at his sides, the tension in his body betraying the calm he’s trying to project. His breathing slows, deliberately controlled, but it’s getting harder to keep it in check. The heat in his chest begins to build, spreading through him in slow waves. Anger. Frustration. Hurt. They mix together in a gnawing, restless churn. It’s a familiar feeling, one he’s learned to bury deep, to shove down and forget. But Hyunsoo’s words make it harder to ignore.

„I'm not here to entertain you,“ Yoongi says, his voice steady, but there’s a hint of a crack in it – a slight tremor of something he’s trying not to let slip through. He knows Hyunsoo is watching for it, waiting for him to react. The words sound rehearsed, distant, as if saying them makes them true, but inside, he feels the tension building. His chest tightens with the need to keep it all locked in. To not give Hyunsoo the satisfaction of seeing anything real.

He can’t afford to lose control. Not here, not in front of someone who thrives on this. Not in front of Hyunsoo, who has always been able to make him feel like a puppet, pulling at strings Yoongi didn’t even know were there. But the harder he tries to suppress it, the more it claws at him, threatening to break through the cracks. He shoves it all back down – the anger, the frustration, the hurt – and buries it beneath a layer of indifference. It’s what he’s always done. It’s what he has to do.

Yoongi stands still for a moment, his muscles coiled with the effort of not reacting. Hyunsoo’s laugh rings in his ears – sharp, mocking, and as familiar as it is aggravating. „Oh, I know. You’re too busy trying to be perfect. Too busy pretending you’re above it all.“

Yoongi doesn’t respond, but the sting of the words cuts deeper than he cares to admit. The idea that he’s pretending to be above it all, that he’s so caught up in the pursuit of perfection that he’s lost something crucial – it feels like an accusation, even if Hyunsoo doesn’t realize it. But Yoongi won’t let that show. He won’t give Hyunsoo the satisfaction of knowing that, for a second, the words hit closer to home than he’d like.

Yoongi grabs his bag with deliberate slowness, the weight of it a small comfort in the moment. He moves mechanically, keeping his gaze fixed ahead, not giving Hyunsoo any more attention than he has to. Each movement is controlled, calculated. Every step is a defense against the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He won’t let it out. Not now. Not in front of Hyunsoo.

As Yoongi walks past, he doesn’t look back. His gaze is cold, almost like a wall. But behind the mask of indifference, his heart is still pounding, the remnants of the conversation gnawing at him. The words Hyunsoo threw at him keep replaying in his mind: „oo busy pretending you're above it all,“ „No passion, no heart.“ He tries to push them away, tries to drown them in the silence of the locker room, but they linger.

Passion. Heart. Hyunsoo doesn’t understand. No one does. Yoongi has never been the type to let his emotions rule him. He’s built his entire world on control, on precision. Emotions are messy. They get in the way. They’re distractions. And yet... something in him shifts, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. That whisper, soft but persistent, gnaws at him. What if he's right? What if there is something missing? What if all this control, all this striving for perfection, has left him hollow?

He tries to shake the thought away, but it’s not that simple. The question lingers in the back of his mind, something he can’t quite suppress. He forces himself to keep moving, to focus on the familiar routine, on the one thing he knows he can control. But as he steps out of the locker room and into the cold hallway, Yoongi can’t ignore the feeling that something has shifted inside him – something that he’s not sure he’s ready to face.

Yoongi steps into his apartment, the familiar coldness of the space settling around him like a blanket. The apartment is everything he’s made it – immaculate, sterile, a reflection of the walls he’s built around himself. The surfaces are polished to a fault, the lines sharp and clean, just like the distance he’s maintained from the world. Everything is exactly where it should be, but it feels more like a trap than a sanctuary.

The dissonance between the perfect order of his surroundings and the chaos inside his head is undeniable. It’s the same sense of control he’s tried to impose on every aspect of his life – everything has to be perfect. But the moment he steps inside, the emptiness that’s been following him throughout the day feels louder, harder to ignore. The silence of the apartment presses in on him, amplifying the disquiet in his mind.

His gaze drifts toward the kitchen counter, where a few empty bottles of soju lie scattered. The bottles are a small testament to the nights he’s spent trying to drown out the feelings he doesn’t want to confront. They are reminders of the attempts to escape, to push aside the grief, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss that never quite goes away. The half-empty bottle near the piano catches his eye, and for a brief moment, he can’t help but notice how unfinished it is, much like the moments he’s tried to numb. It’s like even his attempts to escape are futile, not fully realized.

Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, the fabric slipping from his shoulders and landing carelessly on the couch. His movements are quick, almost automatic, as if he's trying to discard more than just the jacket – trying to rid himself of the weight he's been carrying, but it never really leaves. He doesn’t look at the jacket. Doesn’t think about it. Just another thing to push aside, just like everything else. He’s too tired to engage with any of it, too drained to feel the full weight of the moment.

His fingers move mechanically as he pours the soju, the glass filled with practiced ease. He doesn’t have to think about it; it’s a routine now, a reflex. The liquid burns as it slides down his throat, but the heat never reaches the cold that clings to his insides. It’s supposed to help, to numb the gnawing thoughts at the back of his mind, but it doesn’t. It never does. He drinks because it’s the only thing that gives him a moment of quiet, a brief break from the noise of grief, but it’s only temporary. The ache – the raw emptiness left by her absence – doesn't fade. It’s always there, always just beneath the surface.

Another sip, another attempt to drown it out. But his gaze shifts to the piano, drawn to the photograph of his mother that sits on top. It’s the only thing in the apartment that feels like it belongs here, like it’s part of him. The photo is old – her smile captured in a moment of pure warmth. Her eyes, bright with life, staring back at him as if she’s still here. As if he could reach out and touch her.

The sight of the photograph pulls him up short, and his breath catches in his throat. For a long moment, he just stands there, rooted to the spot. It’s as if time stalls, as if he’s caught between two worlds – the one where she’s gone, and the one where she’s still here, just out of reach. Her presence haunts him, but it’s not the comforting kind. It’s the kind that feels like an open wound, still raw, still seeping. He can’t bring himself to move closer, to touch the picture. Because if he does, he’ll have to confront what’s been sitting in the back of his mind every single day – the pain of losing her. And that pain, that grief, feels too much to bear right now.

He wants to push it away, to bottle it up, just like he’s done with everything else. But it refuses to stay buried, resurfacing in the quiet of his apartment, in the stillness of the night when there’s nothing left to distract him. He doesn’t know how to let go. Doesn’t know how to stop missing her.

His expression softens, the tightness of his features easing for the briefest of moments. It's as though, for a fraction of a second, the walls he's built up around himself are crumbling, allowing something – vulnerable, fragile – to show through. But the softness fades almost instantly, replaced by the familiar, hard edge he’s come to rely on. He blinks, the mask snapping back into place, the weight of the grief he’s been holding down pushing against his chest. But he won’t let it escape. Not now, not in this moment. It’s easier to hold it inside, to bury it where no one can see it.

With a heavy sigh, he lowers himself onto the piano bench. The creak of the keys under his weight echoes in the quiet room, the sound filling the space between him and the silence. For a moment, he doesn’t move, the glass of soju still gripped loosely in his hand, forgotten as his attention shifts. His fingers hover above the piano, trembling slightly as if they already know what’s about to happen. It’s the only time he lets himself feel something real.

He closes his eyes, the weight of his mother’s absence settling in his chest. The first note spills from the piano, quiet and haunting, like a sigh he can’t hold in. It’s not just a sound – it's a release, a small part of himself slipping through the cracks. He doesn’t know why it’s easier to express himself through music than through words, but it always has been. The melody, raw and unrefined, reflects everything he’s been too afraid to acknowledge – his grief, his anger, the loneliness he’s been pushing down.

Each note is like a breath he hasn’t taken in years, a hesitant exhale that threatens to become something more. It’s not just the music – it's the emotion behind it, the things he can’t say out loud. There’s a tightness in his throat as he plays, an ache in his chest that grows with every note. The melody feels like a confession, and with every passing second, it’s a little harder to keep it in check. The music is a mirror of everything he’s buried, and yet, it’s the only way he knows how to face it.

As Yoongi’s fingers move across the piano, the melody becomes a conduit for something much deeper, something he hasn’t allowed himself to acknowledge in a long time. The music that once felt like a release now feels like a suffocating weight. Memories begin to resurface – his mother’s voice, full of warmth and encouragement, the sound of her laughter filling the room when he was younger. It was always her voice he heard when he practiced, her gentle reminders to push harder, do better. But now, all he hears is the silence that followed her passing. The stillness that has lingered ever since, swallowing everything in its wake.

His fingers stumble over the keys. The melody falters, the notes no longer flowing with ease. It’s as if the piano is rejecting him, as if the music itself is reminding him of the void that’s taken over. The memories are a cruel reminder of the things he can never get back – the sound of her voice, her presence in the room, the certainty that she was always there. Now, there’s nothing. Just the silence, thick and heavy, that presses in on him from all sides.

He finishes the drink in one go, the sharp burn momentarily cutting through the fog of grief. For a brief moment, the sting distracts him from the ache in his chest, but it’s fleeting. As soon as the glass is empty, the emptiness creeps back in, and he knows it won’t go away.

Without hesitation, Yoongi returns to the piano. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t stop himself. The melody starts again, but this time, it’s different. There’s a rawness to it, a tension in the way his fingers move across the keys. It’s no longer just music; it’s an outlet for the grief he’s been running from, for the guilt that’s been building in his chest. Every note feels heavier now, like he’s forcing out something he’s spent years burying. The perfectionism he’s relied on, the cold detachment he’s built around himself, is slipping through his fingers. And for the first time in a long while, Yoongi lets himself feel it – the full weight of the grief, the anger, the guilt.

The music doesn’t sound beautiful anymore. It sounds desperate, like he’s trying to claw his way through the pain, but the more he plays, the more he realizes it’s futile. No amount of music, no amount of perfection, can fix what’s been broken. The melody, once soothing, now feels like a constant reminder of everything he’s lost – his mother, his ability to connect with anyone, and the piece of himself that has slowly chipped away over time. The harder he plays, the more the music seems to unravel, the more the grief pushes against him, refusing to be ignored.

He doesn’t stop playing, not because it’s helping, but because he’s afraid to stop. If he stops, he’ll have to face the silence again. He’ll have to face the grief, the guilt, the feeling that he’s failed her. And that’s something he can’t bear.

So he plays on, the music becoming a raw reflection of everything he’s been trying to outrun. With each chord, he allows himself to feel it – feel the loss, the longing, the anger. He doesn’t want to. But in this moment, the music is the only thing that feels real.

The morning air bites at Yoongi’s skin, the cold wrapping around him like a familiar, unwelcome presence. He pulls his collar up higher, but the chill still seeps into his bones as he steps into the rose garden. It’s a place he’s come to find some peace, though even here, it’s hard to escape the weight pressing down on him. The city is distant, its noise muffled by the walls of the garden, but the stillness only amplifies the thoughts swirling in his mind.

The roses are a sharp contrast to the frost clinging to their edges. Where the world feels cold and unyielding, the flowers remain stubbornly vibrant, their deep colors popping against the white of the morning. It’s the kind of stark beauty that only exists in moments of contrast – fragile, but fierce in its defiance of the season.

Yoongi moves slowly among them, his breath visible in the air, each exhale hanging for a moment before dissipating. The familiar scent of earth and petals fills his senses, grounding him, if only for a moment. The soft rustling of the branches in the wind sounds like whispers, and for a second, he imagines his mother’s voice, carrying through the garden as if she were still here, tending to the roses as she always had. Her hands had always been gentle with them, coaxing beauty from every bloom. There had been a softness in her presence, an ease that Yoongi now longs for.

Now, everything feels different. The roses are still here, but they’re not hers anymore. They belong to the space she left behind. The thought settles over him like a weight, heavier than the cold. He kneels in front of one of the bushes, his fingers brushing against the petals with the same care his mother used to. But there’s no warmth in his touch. Only a coldness, a distance that has been growing between him and everything he once loved.

His fingers curl around the withered petals, carefully removing them. The snip of the scissors is sharp in the quiet, each cut deliberate, controlled. There’s a precision to the way he moves, a mechanical quality to the way his hands work the same way his body moves on the ice. It’s a way of doing things that doesn’t allow for mistakes. No room for failure, not here, not in this place that is both a sanctuary and a reminder of everything that’s gone.

The roses are still beautiful, but they are no longer full of life. Some are fading, and no matter how much he trims, no matter how much he cares for them, there’s a truth he can’t ignore. His mother isn’t coming back. He can’t fix what’s been broken. But the roses – he can tend to them. He can make sure they don’t wither away completely. He can control that, at least.

The thought is hollow. It doesn’t soothe him the way it used to. It only makes him feel more detached, like the beauty he’s surrounded by is something he has to preserve, something he has to maintain, even if it’s not enough to fill the emptiness that’s gnawing at him.

As Yoongi’s hands move through the familiar task of tending to the roses, his thoughts drift back to memories of her. Her voice, always gentle, urging him to skate with his heart, not just his body. A sudden, sharp pang of guilt cuts through him, so fierce it’s almost physical. He inhales sharply, trying to push it down, but it lingers, settling deep into his chest. He’s failed her.

The weight of that realization presses harder each day. In his pursuit of perfection, in his obsession with control, he’s strayed from what she had hoped for him. She never wanted him to be perfect. She wanted him to feel, to connect with the ice the way she once did, to let passion guide him rather than a cold, calculated drive for results. The thought is suffocating. A bitter taste rises in his throat, like the burn of alcohol he’s come to rely on to quiet his mind. But the emptiness it brings only makes things worse, not better.

His fingers pause as they brush against the petals of a bloom, the soft texture grounding him for a moment. He’s momentarily lost in the memory of her – her laughter echoing in his ears, warm and full of life, her hands guiding his when he was young and unsure, the steadiness in her voice as she helped him tie his skates before every practice. He can still feel her presence, still hear her encouragement in the back of his mind, as if she were standing next to him. But it’s a fleeting sensation, slipping through his grasp like water. For a brief, painful second, he almost believes she’s still here, that he could reach out and touch her once more. But the reality always sets in – she's gone. And no matter how much he tries to fill that void with his perfectionism, nothing can bring her back.

The guilt festers, the regret sharp against the hollow feeling in his chest. He hasn’t just lost her; he’s lost the connection to the very thing that once brought him joy. The ice should have been where he found her again, but now it’s a battleground. The weight of his failure to live up to her expectations, to her belief in him, is heavier than anything he can skate through. The roses, her roses, are all he has left, and even they can’t fill the space she left behind.

Yoongi bends down, his fingers brushing against the soft petals of a single rose. The deep red hue catches the light, a sharp contrast against the gray of the world around him. The color brings with it a wave of bittersweet memories – his mother’s devotion, her hands carefully tending to the flowers, each bloom a reflection of the love and care she poured into everything she did. The image of her, always so present and steady, hangs over him like a weight he’s carried for too long.

As he straightens, the wind stirs the roses around him, and for a moment, it feels different. The breeze isn't just the cold, indifferent winter air. It’s something more, like a gentle touch, like her presence, as if she’s here, watching him. Waiting for him to find his way back. His breath catches, and the weight of her absence settles heavily on him. It’s a brief illusion, one that he can’t quite hold onto, but it’s enough to make his chest tighten with longing.

„I hope I'm making you proud,“ he whispers, barely audible, as if the words might slip away if he speaks them too loudly. The voice feels strange in his throat, unfamiliar, but it escapes before he can stop it. It’s a confession, a plea – something he hasn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. He’s been chasing perfection, but it’s always felt like running away from something, not toward it. This moment, this quiet admission to the wind, is the closest he’s come to confronting the void she left behind.

The rose, delicate in his hands, is all he has left to offer. A small gesture, an attempt to honor her in some way. But it feels hollow, like he’s performing a ritual without the belief to back it. Still, he moves toward the centerpiece vase, his steps deliberate, the weight of his thoughts slowing him. He places the rose inside, the thud of it landing on the water seeming too loud in the silence of the garden.

For a moment, Yoongi stands still, his gaze lingering on the flower, on the place that holds the remnants of his mother’s care. But it’s not enough to fill the emptiness that stretches inside him. It’s not enough to bridge the gap between the boy who skated for her and the man who can’t seem to find his way back to that love. His hand lingers near the vase, his fingers brushing the edge as if to connect with something, anything that could bring him peace. But there’s nothing.

With a sigh, Yoongi pulls away, the sound of his footsteps soft on the gravel path. The garden remains behind him, a silent witness to the memories that have rooted themselves in the earth. He doesn’t turn back. The garden, the memories – everything that's tethered to her – remains, but it’s a place he can’t stay in for long. The world outside moves forward, and he has to keep up, no matter how cold or unforgiving it feels.

Taglist:

@lovelyjinxx

#min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x oc #suga fanfic #suga fic #suga x oc #min yoongi bts #yoongi bts #suga bts #min yoongi series #yoongi series #suga series #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x oc

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j0kers-light · 10 months ago

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okayy, so, how would Joker react if reader was obsessed with history?? Like, really obsessed, she knows how long Napoleon's d_ck was, has been to france over a hundred times just to see Marie Antoinette's bedroom, has watched and read every historial movie/book possible and is yapping all the time about weird history facts??

One and half inches.

So....... basically you want me to describe myself? Aight. Let's get into it! I sincerely hope you enjoy love🖤✨

Joker knows you're a history buff. You're always sounding off random facts during normal conversations that he's used to it by now.

If he says something inaccurate, rest assured, you take a deep breath and hit him with the "well, actually..." A normal correction rant lasts about 5-30 minutes or 1-2 hours if he's completely wrong.

He doesn’t have a clue about what you’re saying majority of the time but he’s a supportive lover so he’ll listen more so to the sound of your voice rather than what you’re saying.

That being said, Joker uses your extensive knowledge of things to his advantage. If he brings you to a meeting, he purposefully says something incorrect to get a reaction out of you and you fall for it every single time. For example…

“Historically, The Battle of Agincourt was an astonishing victory for the English despite the reported 25,000 French forces that showed up. It was won not by luck.. but military tactics like using the terrain and basic human instincts. Imagine stepping over your fallen comrades wearing armor weighing 60 pounds through thick mud and..."

Annnnnnnnd you begin an impromptu history lesson. This is gonna take a while.

All Joker said was, 'get your feet out of the mud and focus.' How you connected his comment to facts from a 14th century battle, Joker will never know. It’s a hidden talent of yours.

Now you're educating his goons about the historical importance of the English longbow and quoting excerpts directly from Shakespeare's play Henry V. The crazy part, they're actually listening!

His bunny is weird. That's all he can say. He doesn't bat an eyelash when you beg him to go on another trip overseas.

There's a new exhibit at the Palace of Versailles and you have to see Marie Antoinette's bedchambers again! Like it changed since last year.... 🙄

He takes you anyway and you know more than the tour guide that tourists are following you around the vast estate learning odd facts and trivia.

You have too much information stored in that silly little head of yours. Can someone really be that smart?

You know about every little thing to the point that it should be annoying, but Joker loves watching you nerd out over documentaries, books, and etc. You can easily be a historian or curator.

Joker does not dare bother you when a new research article or accredited documentary drops because you are laser focused, mouthing the new knowledge under your breath as it gets absorbed in.

Do you really need to know that much about the past? Yes, he doesn't understands how history repeats itself but come on! Some of this stuff is useless knowledge....

Your interests span from the Byzantine empire to modern day culture ranging from crucial facts to funny tidbits.

Joker is not exaggerating to the boys when he says, "Y/n. Knows. Everything."

"Alright lightening round. I'll stop if you're incorrect. You ready Y/n?"

You nod at Morgana and close your eyes to concentrate. In the background, Joker and his loyal three were scheming a new mission at your dining room table. You and Morgana are forced to entertain yourselves until they finish.

They stopped discussing plans the second Morgana started asking random questions.

"Modern day Persia is located where?"

"Iran!"

"When did construction on the Tower of Pisa begin?

"Uh... it took 199 years.. ooh! August 9th, 1179!"

"China's first emperor." Morgana asked. You opened your mouth to answer, but paused.

"Male or female?" You asked.

She smirked. Okay.. you understood the assignment.

"First male emperor, Qin Shi Huang who invented the title emperor and created the Qin dynasty. The first any ONLY female emperor, is my girl Wu Zetian! A true, started from the bottom now we here! Her epitaph remains left blank."

Morgana resumed her quick fire questions ranging from the ancient and modern world with you answering all correctly and adding a cool side fact.

It was rather impressive.. until Joker decided to have a little fun. "Since ya know soooo much Bunny. Do ya know Batman's identity?"

You were halfway answering the process of explaining Venetian architecture, when you heard Joker’s comment.

The room went quite waiting for your answer. Frost and Joker lock eyes but they quickly dart over to you when you finally respond.

“I don’t know everything J. Batman’s identity is a well guarded secret however he and I are on speaking terms. I can ask him whenever we ever bump into each other again. Not like I’ll get an answer, but it’s worth a shot.”

You nod to yourself and without missing a beat, you resume explaining to Morgana how the floating city of Venice was created one wooden pile at a time.

Meanwhile Joker is fuming at the table. “Whaddya mean bump into him again?!” Why does this sound like a common occurrence?

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caravelstan · 3 years ago

Text

(too little) too late | s. kiszka

authors note: slowly starting to write again thanks to gvf so :P here’s another sammy one. i’m slowly working on a jake one so that may be posted as well. i also suck at endings so... im sorry!!!! anyways hope u like it lol again sorry if its rough i’m going on 4 years of absolutely no writing lol

pairing: sam kiszka x fem!reader

warnings: angst lol but then fluff????

word count: 1.6k

summary: right person, wrong time. will they finally get their chance?

Her hands still as she hears her phone ring from beside her, brows furrowed in confusion. She leans over to look at the caller ID and her heart sinks, seeing his name come across her screen.

Sam Kiszka is calling...

It's not like they hadn't spoken in years or months, it's probably been about a week since she heard from the boy. There's no bad blood, never has been, but that doesn't stop her stomach from dropping. She places her guitar on the ground next to her, reaching for her phone.

"Hello?" She says softly, already chewing on her thumb with nerves. She hears Sam take a deep breath on the other side.

"Y/N..." He says, voice quiet but filled with so much emotion. She frowns.

"What's up?"

She supposes he's at a bar with the rest of the boys because she can hear chatter and music in the background, muffled, so she assumes he's stepped outside.

"They're playing your song." Is all he says. She can't help but laugh, leaning back against the couch behind her.

"Gonna have to be more specific than that, Sammy." She teases.

He chuckles, but it sounds forced. "The one you wrote for me."

She goes silent. She knows exactly which song he's talking about and a wave of sadness washes over her. It'd been a song she wrote in over a night, so overcome with her feelings and the heartbreak of Sam getting into a relationship, and then overcome by the guilt she felt. She hadn't deserved to be upset with him getting into a relationship when she had done the same to him almost a year prior.

Right person, wrong time is what she refers to her relationship with Sam. Their timings were always wrong, but deep down, they both were hoping for the other to be the right one.

"Yeah?" She finally speaks up, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a bit depressing for a bar?" She tries to joke, but her laughter falls flat.

"Maybe," He's silent for a beat. "I never told you how beautiful I thought it was."

She smiles bashfully at the ground, watching her fingers pick at the carpet. "I never expected you to say anything about it."

"I never knew what to say. It's so... devastatingly beautiful. Josh cried the first time hearing it." She can hear the frown in his voice. "I'm sorry for doing that to you."

It's her turn to frown. "Sam..."

"Can I say something?" He cuts her off.

"Of course." Her frown deepens when she hears him take a shaky breath on the other end, her fingers clenching around her phone.

"It was always you, you know?" His voice sounds small, almost like a child getting scolded by their parents. It makes her stomach drop. "From the moment we met it was always you. I think I was too scared to admit that then and when I finally did it was... it was too late."

"That's in the past, Sammy." She says softly and tries to ignore the way her voice breaks at the end.

"I know, I just... never got to apologize. For doing that. To you."

"I'm sorry too." She doesn't realize there's tears in her eyes until she feels that familiar burn, a stray tear sliding down her cheeks.

They both stay silent and all she can hear from the other end is the sound of Sam's breathing and she tries to focus on that, eyes fluttering shut to calm herself down.

"I'd take it all back if I could."

"Why are you telling me this now?" She all but whines down the phone, eyes screwed shut as she tips her head back. The sound he makes on the other end is pitiful - a mix between a laugh and a cry.

"Because you're still the only thing I can think about," He says with a shaky voice. "Because no matter what I do, whenever I close my eyes all I see is you. Not her - you."

She should be angry at him. She should be yelling at him, telling him to go back inside to the boys and to her and to not call again. To stop thinking about her and them and to get over it because that's in the past, but she can't. She could never be mad at Sam.

"Sam," She breathes. "Why are you doing this?"

"I broke up with her."

Her breath hitches at his confession and she has to grip her phone in between her fingers, scared if she loosens them her phone will fall to the ground.

"When?"

"Um," He mumbles and she hears him sniffle. "A few months ago, actually."

"Why?"

He lets out a sad laugh. "She found out I still had feelings for you."

"Oh."

She's not sure how she should feel. Warmth washes over her body at the thought of him still having those same feelings for her, even after all this time, but she's still sad. She hadn't even done anything and yet she still was the cause for the end of Sam's relationship, something she promised herself she'd never do.

All she wanted was for Sam to be happy, and right now, he sounds anything but.

"Please say something."

Her heart lurches at his pleading tone and her eyes burn with fresh tears. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"That you still love me." His voice edged closer to a beg. "That I'm not too late this time."

"Sam..."

"Please." He begs.

"Of course I still love you,” She huffs out, reaching up to wipe at her nose. “I have loved you this entire time.”

She hears him let out a breath on the other end in only what she assumes is relief. She tries to smile at that, the warmth washing over her body again, but she can barely muster one up as more tears begin to fall. This has been the moment she’s been waiting for and all she feels is sadness.

This is not what she should be feeling right now.

She should be jumping for joy, proclaiming her love down the phone to Sam, but instead she’s sitting in silence with the boy on the other end.

“Can I come and see you?” Sam finally speaks up, voice small. She sniffles.

“Why?”

“I want to tell you I love you to your face.” He says quietly. “I want to do this right. I want you.”

She stares down at the carpet again, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “And what if we’re too late?”

“I don’t think we are.”

Another silence fills the air but she doesn’t feel as heavy as she did just a few moments ago. She listens to Sam’s steady breathing on the other hand, her fingers picking at her leggings she wore. His words filled her with hope - only a bit. She tries to never get her hopes up with most things, especially with Sam, but she heard the determination in his voice. He was being serious.

“Alright,” She says, fighting the new and very real smile from forming on her lips. Her eyes flicker around the room before dropping back to her hands. “You could fly out this weekend?”

“Or tomorrow.”

“Or this weekend.” She says, a laugh bubbling out of her from his eagerness. “You said you wanted to do this right.”

Sam sighs but she hears the smile in his voice. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“I think you can wait a few more days.”

“I’d wait forever for you.”

Her cheeks heat up at his words and she can picture his smug grin on the other end.

“Always the romantic, Samuel.” She says with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m serious,” He says. “I’ve waited all this time, I’d wait even longer. I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N.”

Her heartbeat quickens beneath her chest at his confession and she covers her mouth with her hand to keep in the squeal that wanted to escape, happiness finally filling her body. If this all works out, if this all goes as she hopes, maybe - just maybe - they could be happy. Together.

It’s all she’s ever wanted.

“Well, you won’t have to wait too much longer.”

“Not long at all.” Sam says. “I’m booking a flight once I go back inside.”

“That eager to see me?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

They both laugh together until silence fills them again, but this time it’s comfortable. She’s smiling at the ground, tears long gone, and mind wandering to the whirlwind of emotions she felt in the last thirty minutes. She never expected this conversation to happen, let alone it ending in Sam coming to see her.

“I should go. Josh just came out here and he’s looking at me like I’m crazy.”

She laughs. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I will.” Sam says, and she can just imagine the smile he’s sporting at this very moment. “I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”

“Yeah, you will.”

There’s another beat of silence before Sam softly says, “I love you.”

Her heart flutters, cheeks hurting from how wide she’s smiling but she doesn’t care. Any other time she’d tease him, remembering him saying he wanted to tell her those three little words to her face. She’ll just wait to do it when he’s here with her.

Just the thought makes her heart race.

“I love you.”

They say their goodbyes and she hangs up the phone, sitting it on the ground beside her long forgotten guitar. She stares off into her room, basking in the silence. She’s not sure what will happen from here on out with her and Sam, but maybe this time is their chance to do it right. She tries not to think of the what ifs, finally allowing herself to be happy for once.

Happy with Sam.

A giggle escapes her at the thought and her smile never leaves her face, not until she falls asleep, dreams filled with the brown eyed boy she fell in love with years ago.

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet imagines #sam kiszka fan fiction #my writing

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summercreolefanfictioner · 2 years ago

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when the doll invades the serpent's dream || keiichirou and maya (feat. ayato, yui, and kanato)

A/N: TW for violence. And yes, thanks to @gingerall creating Keiichirou. I hoped I portrayed an evil?? side of him. Because yes, we all have our demons lurking around, waiting to come out. Sht got dark, I know.

Maya didn't mean to—never intended even—to use her powers in a situation like this. But for some reason, there was a force that ignited her to do so. For one, she'd been seeing this man hang out with the Sakamaki brothers, especially Laito and Shuu. Maya thought this man, named Keiichirou Seong, is just your typical boy-next-door with red hair, tall height, a dazzling smile, and good looks.

But she can't help but sense an air of danger and curiosity from him. Yes, the same air she felt when she met Kanato for the first time in the forest, where she lost her voice and became an incomplete vampire.

However, the more Maya sees him around school, the more she thinks he might not be that bad.

Dangerous, but not entirely bad.

But now, Maya thinks her relationship with this man will change. Everything happened so fast. One moment, she was approaching Ayato and Yui to inform them that their next class was up; the next thing, she and this Keiichirou guy were staring at each other's eyes and she saw flashes of memories that didn't belong to her.

Screams of pain. Terrorizing taunts. Gaslighting remarks. Broken violins. Feet gliding on ice. And then, there was Eden with a woman eating the apple given by a snake.

On the other hand, Yui and Ayato stared between the two, waving their hands in front of them to gain their attention, but nothing was working. It's like they're trapped in their own trance, not minding their surroundings.

Afterward, Keiichirou was standing in the middle of a dimension with nothing but a pool of blood and dozens of skeletons lying everywhere. When he turned around, Maya was dressed in a gothic Victorian dress, caressing a skull in her hands as she takes careful steps toward him. He was confused as to what was happening.

Blank red eyes gazed up at his cold, blue ones. "Keiichirou Tae-hyun Seong."

How does she know my full name?

Maya touched his hand gently.

That's strange. We have never met.

"Please forgive me."

And his life flashed before his eyes in an instant. He thought he had buried them all, but all the pain and agony he felt years ago came rushing back. He wanted to scream and cry in pain, feeling the overwhelming sorrow he had crushed to pieces come back to life.

Stop!

Please make everything stop!

STOP—

"Maya-san," they heard Kanato's voice in the background.

And then, they were all gone. Keiichirou was snapped from his senses, looking down at Yui who was worriedly shaking him with Ayato confused as to why there were tears on his face.

What tears? What does he mean—

And when he touched his cheek, it was right there.

Fuck.

Meanwhile, Kanato was covering Maya's eyes, pulling her closer to him so she would stop shaking from fear. Unlike Keiichirou who had finally calmed down, Maya was still crying from all the memories she had seen. It was as if she felt all the pain he's been carrying.

Most of all, she can't forget who he was.

The Serpent of Eden. The one who is destined to tempt Eve and destroy Karlheinz's plan.

When Kanato finally felt Maya's body slackening, he removed his hand from her eyes and found that she had fainted from the shock.

He sighed, carrying Maya in his arms with Teddy placed on top of her. "She shouldn't have overdone it," the middle triplet muttered.

Keiichirou raised a brow in confusion. What the hell?!

He knew about the Sakamakis and the Mukamis being vampires, but he had never taken his time to meet this one. Heck, he is sure they have never talked before. Yes, everyone calls her the 'Sakamaki doll,' but that's it. Everything about her is vague.

But she saw my memories. The ones I don't tell anybody.

Keiichirou swallowed deeply at that, his mind registering the word 'vulnerability' in this girl's presence.

Oh, dear. I just wish she wouldn't be brazen enough to tell anyone about it, he thought bitterly. But if she does, I'll destroy her.

"Are you done staring at my wife?" Kanato inquired, his frown in top form as he glared subtly at Keiichirou.

And as usual, Keiichirou flashed his signature smile. You know, the smile the devil makes to mask his curiosity over something so trivial.

Like how that girl invaded my memories and sent me to a dream.

Kanato turned to Ayato and Yui. "I'll be taking her to the infirmary."

But before he could go, Keiichirou blocked his path. Well, he could just call his name, but he doubts the middle triplet will listen to him. Besides, it's not like they're close enough to be familiar with each other.

"May I know the name of this one?"

"Who? Teddy?"

Keiichirou shook his head, his pretentious smile still intact. "The girl you're carrying."

Now that didn't sit well with Kanato, his purple eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What of it?"

"It's strange that she knows me so well."

Kanato immediately got the hint based on the taller guy's words. So curiosity led his wife to invade this person's memories and judging by how she fainted from the shock, she must've seen gruesome shit.

It's nothing new. She had seen mine countless times, even the nightmares.

"You're clearly mistaken," Kanato stated. "Maya-san has nothing to do with strangers like you."

"Ah, so her name's Maya," Keiichirou remarked in glee, reaching out a hand to touch her face, "how lovely—"

Kanato swatted his hand away, scooting away so his wife would be out of his reach. "Please refrain from touching my wife so casually."

"But I haven't even touched her," Keiichirou was being devious, humoring himself in making fun of the purpleheaded vampire, "... yet."

Kanato only gave him a hard stare. Whatever it was, he's sure Keiichirou has something against his wife. And with a huff, he continued walking, not minding if Keiichirou was watching him from afar.

The redhead smirked.

Sakamaki Maya, huh? I wonder what you will do about this afterwards?

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rubysunnday · 3 years ago

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rooftops

A/N: The finale to my part in Olive's (@lxncelot) , writing challenge! This is fic 3 out of 3 (congrats if you made it this far, well done!) Again, prompts are all from Olive's dialogue and song prompt list) : 3) “I’ll miss this — us.” | 17) “Are we friends?”`| 26) “I could be in love with someone like you.” | rooftop kiss — james horner

Fic 1 | Fic 2 | Fic 3

The wind was howling outside the whaling hut. It was so harsh the windows and doors were rattling in their frames, fighting to stay put. But the two occupants inside didn't notice. They were both too cold and uncomfortable and pointedly ignoring the other to do much more than sit by the fire, bundled in furs, wearing someone else's clothes underneath.

Of course, they were both as far apart from each other as physically possible whilst also staying within the warmth of the fire. Matthias was silent. Y/N was silent. Neither said a word.

Matthias leant forward and poked the fire with the poker, nudging the logs around. They sparked and crackled as fresh wood was added, feeding the fire. Matthias glanced over at Y/N, barely visible under the furs. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"That does not matter," Matthias said, leaning back. "Because you're so cold it means you don't feel hunger. Your body needs to eat."

"I'm fine. I just want to sleep," Y/N muttered, tightening the furs around her, trying to block him out.

Matthias looked back at the pot that was simmering over the fire. "If you sleep, you'll likely not wake up again."

"Oh, good, that saves you from having to kill me," Y/N said, refusing to look at him.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now," Matthias replied, rolling his eyes as he spooned the soup into two bowls. "Now, eat," he said, holding the bowl out to her.

Y/N reluctantly reached out a hand from underneath the furs and took the bowl, putting it on the floor in front of her. "And if I don't want to eat?"

"Then you'll succumb to hypothermia and pass out," Matthias said, shrugging. "All Drüskelle learn that mistake in their first few months. Most recover. Some don't. Brum always says that a Drüskelle-"

"If I eat the damn soup, will you shut up?" Y/N snapped, turning to glare at him.

Matthias nodded. He watched Y/N intently as she picked up the bowl and took a small sip of the soup, letting it digest before taking another sip.

"It's good soup," she reluctantly admitted, dipping her spoon back in. "If you've poisoned it, I won't mind dying this way."

"For Saint's sake," Matthias muttered, swearing in Fjerdan under his breath. "I haven't poisoned it! I am eating it too."

Y/N raised her eyebrows but returned to her soup.

Silence fell in the whaling hut again.

"You can have the bed."

Y/N looked over at Matthias as she finished her soup. "Don't be ridiculous, there's room for two of us." Matthias was silent so Y/N looked at him again. "Oh, don't tell me little Matthias is scared of sleeping next to a woman."

"I am not..." He paused, forcing himself to calm down. "I am not scared."

"Good, then we will before sleep in the bed," Y/N said, standing up, setting her half-eaten soup aside.

Matthias reluctantly stood up too. He watched as Y/N clambered onto the bed, wrapping herself up in the furs and getting comfortable.

"Oh for Saint's sake, stop being such a prune and come here," she snapped. "You're the one going on about hypothermia and yet you're over there, freezing."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, look how the tables have turned," she muttered.

Matthias climbed into the other side of the bed and lay down on the very edge - as far away as possible from Y/N.

"Drüskelle," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Do you want to freeze to death? No? Then move closer."

He shuffled closer.

"Closer."

Mattthias shuffled even closer. Y/N could feel his cold skin against her back and shivered slightly.

"There, now neither of us will die in the night and we can go back to hating each other in the morning, happy?"

Matthias grunted, burying himself under the furs. Y/N turned onto her side and pulled the furs up over her shoulder, tucking them around her. She closed her eyes and wriggled down a bit, getting comfortable.

The wind kept on howling.

Matthias awoke suddenly as something jolted him. He sat up, expecting to see Y/N standing over him with a knife, about to cut out his heart. But the room was empty. It took him a moment to realise that someone was crying and that the someone was lying next to him.

He looked down at her and could see the tears falling down her face, the terror clearly written on her face as she relived something. Matthias wasn't sure why, but he felt his heart ache for the girl. He wasn't immune to nightmares - no one was.

Part of him wanted to leave her. A Grisha deserved to live through the terrors they had seen as punishment. But he couldn't believe that this girl - barely younger than him - could be so heartless and brutal. at such a young age, what could she have possibly experienced and seen that would have traumatised her in such a way.

Matthias reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Roëd," he said, for he didn't know her true name. Neither one had decided to share that information.

Y/N let out a panicked yelled and sat up, almost falling out of the bed. She pushed Matthias' hand away, flinging back all of the furs until she was just in the shirt and pants she'd found in the corner of the hut. Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and bolted from the room and out into the cold, cold night.

Matthias quickly got up and followed after her, not wanting her to get lost in the Fjerdan landscape or end up being attacked because, despite the death threats and the mutual hated, he did care for her. She'd saved him from the shipwreck and, somehow, they were still going.

Y/N fell to her knees in the snow - in the dark - and plunged her hands into the cold, wet snow, needing it to ground her and wake her up from her nightmare. Matthias stood in the doorway, watching warily in the background.

"Sorry," Y/N said quietly, her voice almost being lost in the wind. She sniffled and ducked her head, hiding her face. "I'm sorry."

Matthias approached cautiously. He hovered behind her for a moment before kneeling down behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry for something you can't control."

Y/N chuckled, a shiver wracking through her body. "You surprised that Grisha have nightmares too?" She asked, turning to look at him. "That we're human?"

Matthias was silent. Y/N scoffed quietly, knowing she was right.

Their silent argument ended abruptly when a wolf let out a loud howl, only a few feet away. Both Y/N and Matthias looked up, struggling to see the animal through the dark and blinding snow.

The wolf stalked forward, baring its teeth at Y/N. She didn't move.

"Don't attack it," Matthias said quietly, slowly rising to his feet.

"No offence, Drüskelle, but I'm not going to let a wolf attack me because it's a sacred animal to you," Y/N hissed.

"Just wait," Matthias insisted. "Let him move first. If he attacks first then we know."

"And if he just stands there?"

"Then we wait."

The wolf snarled, taking another step forward. It howled. And then turned around and walked off.

"Get up, slowly," Matthias said, holding a hand out to Y/N.

Y/N reached behind her and took his hand, letting him pull her into his side. Matthias wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to warm Y/N up, as they watched the wolf walk off into the night.

"I've never seen a wolf just leave before," Y/N said quietly, shivering under Matthias' arm.

"They're mainly peaceful if not provoked," Matthias replied.

"As are Grisha."

Matthias looked down at her, his eyes finding hers. He looked at her for a moment in silence. Y/N looked up at him. She met his gaze for only a few seconds before she swayed against him, her knees giving out and plunging her back into the snow.

Matthias fell to the snow with her, pulling her into his side and putting an arm under her legs, another around her back, and lifting her up out of the snow. He carried her back inside, sitting her in front of the fire.

He grabbed the furs off the bed and piled them onto her, wrapping them around her shivering form. Y/N didn't protest, her eyes closing involuntarily as she tried to stay focused on the fire.

"Now who's dying of hypothermia," she muttered, her teeth chattering as she gave Matthias a half-hearted smile.

Matthias sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder as he tried to warm her up.

"For a man who hunts Grisha for a living, you are very determined to keep me alive," Y/N said quietly.

Matthias sighed to himself. "It was Grisha who killed my entire family. They set the village on fire and let it burn. My mother, sister and father all died. Because of Grisha."

Y/N was silent. Eventually, she spoke, her eyes focused on the fire. "Not all Grisha are good, Druskelle. Not all Grisha are bad. Like people. The Grisha who murdered your family are the minority. We are not all like that. And we are certainly not witches. We create from elements that already exist in the world."

"Such as?"

Y/N pulled her arm out from under the furs. She looked up at Matthias. "Are we friends?"

Matthias nodded. "We are."

Y/N nodded. She held her hand palm up and then made a scooping motion, her eyes closed. She felt Matthias stiffen as fire appeared in her hand, orange flames dancing around her fingers.

"It's not magic. I simply summon all the combustible gases in the world, for there are thousands, and fire appears." Y/N waved her hand and the fire vanished. She pulled her hand back inside the furs. "That's all it is. Small Science, as we call it. No magic."

Matthias nodded. He didn't seem to be able to speak. He eventually decided on what he wanted to say. "What was your nightmare about? Only if you want to tell me."

Y/N shifted closer to Matthias. "I'm sure you've heard of General Kirigan - or the Darkling."

"I think it'd be impossible to find someone in all of Ravka, Fjerda and beyond who hasn't heard of it."

"It?"

"It was not a man, nor a human. It is simply it."

Y/N smiled to herself. It slowly faded as she returned to her mind. "I was a Grisha under his orders when Sankt Alina first appeared. I was fresh out of school - a young Grisha desperate to prove herself. And he used me like he used hundreds of others. I was trapped under his control until King Nikolai broke us out.

"But the Darkling had done enough by then. Being used by him - controlled by him is something I do not wish to repeat. Sometimes in the night, I think I see him. I know he is long dead and burnt but... I hear his voice in the wind, I see his shadows in the darkness and all I can think about is what he did to me."

Matthias was silent. He knew about the Darkling. Everyone did. But very few knew about what it did to the young Grisha under its command.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, by the way," Y/N said quietly. "I feel like since I'm pouring my heart out to you, we should know each other's names."

Matthias smiled. "I'm Matthias Helvar."

Y/N nodded. She dropped her head onto Matthias' shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Matthias."

Matthias sat there, an arm around her shoulders, watching the flames dance away until morning came.

It took them five days to find civilisation. The snowstorm passed after three days and it took them two days of walking - and almost falling off a cliff - to reach safety.

The inn wasn't much - it was full of Fjerdan sailors on their way out or back from long trips out at sea. But it was warm and it was safe - for now.

"I don't know how I feel about stealing," Matthias said as Y/N unlocked the door to their room.

"I didn't steal, I borrowed," Y/N corrected, walking inside.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Indirectly, yes."

Matthias laughed. Y/N stared at him.

"Saints, Matthias, I didn't know you could laugh!" She exclaimed.

Matthias chuckled as he took his coat off and sat down on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"It appears we have learnt a lot about each other this past week," he said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N approached him and sat down on his right, dropping her head to his shoulder. "You know, I have no idea what Roëd means."

"What?"

"The other night, when I was having a nightmare, you called me Roëd..."

Matthias' smile grew. "It means red in Fjerdan."

"Red? Why red?"

"Well, when we first met -"

"When you kidnapped me, you mean."

Matthias rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a red skirt, like the one you're wearing now. Since I didn't know your name... I thought Roëd was subtle."

Y/N nodded, a smile working its way onto her face. "I like it."

Matthias put his arm around Y/N's shoulders - an action he'd found himself doing numerous times over the past week. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, gently following an imaginary line.

"What will you do now?" Matthias asked quietly.

The question had been praying on his mind for days now. What happens next. He could easily go back to Brum, resume his training, tell his tale. Y/N could easily return to wherever she came from - carry on leaving her life. Nothing would change.

Except something had changed. The world had shifted. Just a bit, but enough to know that there was no going back to the before.

"Find a ship back to Ketterdam," Y/N said softly. Her left hand was entwined with his, her fingers playing with his. "Tell my boss what happened and hope he gives me my job back. What about you?"

"I don't know."

"Have I changed you that much, Druskelle?" Y/N asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

Matthias looked down at her. "Perhaps. What is... Ketterdam like?"

"First of all, excellent pronunciation," Y/N said, looking back down again. "Second of all, it's shit."

"Then why would you want to go back?"

"Because it was the only place to welcome me after I left Ravka. I fitted in seamlessly there. No questions were asked about me or my powers. I got a job and they treat me well. It works for me."

"I cannot imagine what it must be like to be... persecuted everywhere you go."

"Saints, I have changed you!" Y/N said, looking back at him. She smiled. "It's hard. Trusting people is harder. I haven't used my power in years as a result but... I prefer it that way, oddly. I was used and wanted for my power in Ravka. In Ketterdam I am just me. I'm just Y/N."

Matthias stared at the wall for a moment. "I'd like to go somewhere like that. Where it is simply just... you and I. Simply Y/N and Matthias."

"No prejudice."

"No hatred."

"Just us."

Matthias looked back at her and leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a kiss before she had a chance to move. He leant back and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'll miss this," Matthias said quietly, knowing deep down, that it would inevitably end as all good things did. "Us."

Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. "You know, Matthias, I could be in love with someone like you."

"I know. As could I."

And that was the truth. She could love him and he could love her. Despite the ways they'd been raised. Despite what they'd lived through and experienced at the hands of their people, both of them, Grisha and Druskelle, could and did love each other.

It was the truth and the pain of it. Knowing that their love was never meant to be.

And that it was never destined to last.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows imagines #six of crows x reader #angst #oliveswc #matthias helvar #matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar imagine #matthias helvar imagines

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hiraethenthusiast · 3 years ago

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The Hollandairé | t.h.

pairing: ceo!tom x ceo! reader

word count: 16k+

synopsis: exes cross paths on a big event. will they be able to forget each other's mistakes?

warnings: language, sexual innuendos, mentions of an anxiety attack (if you squint), talks about miscarriage, my favourite angst.

a/n: well, well, well im back from a very shitty writers block! look at me, writing angst with exes? oof. can you tell that i absolutely love angst and makeouts in the end? i was somehow inspired by 'idfc' by blackbear to write this fic lol. it took some time and ofcourse i went overboard with it, so hope you enjoy! don't forget to like and reblog! (i even made a moodboard kinda thing uwuwu)

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Conan I won't hesitate to knee you in the crotch if you don't stop pulling me off this sofa right this second" You tell your roommate, who is desperately trying to get you to go to a gala with him. Being a CEO brings its pros and cons. Pros being, you have a private jet, you're your own boss and you can shout at people with a reason. Cons being, annoyingly nice roommates. You had just shifted to a penthouse in downtown London with your friend Conan, because you refused to stay alone in this bigass house. (You tried living alone once, you were bored to death)

"Conan leave me alone yoo!" You said whining and hunching back into the sofa.

"Get the fuck up and get ready for the launch dude you promised me you wouldn't leave me hanging" Conan shouts over the voice of the t.v. blaring in the background. You pull you hand away from his grip and reach for the remote to shut off the t.v., focusing back on this tall red-headed figure in front of you.

"You know I don't like fancy shit." You grumble.

"It's YOUR fancy shit, get up Y/N." He says and reaches for your arms now, finally making you stand.

"Call Laura, I really don't want to go." You say pulling your phone out from your back pocket and handing it to him.

"If you haven't realised, your manager is the one who forced me to force you to attend the introduction of your fashion line" He fights back.

"- and Y/N. Hey, look at me. You've dreamt of this for how long? Almost all your life. And if you miss the chance to see your empire expand, it's gonna be devastating. You'll obviously miss the fashion show who's got the actual Rudy Pankow walking on a ramp, you'll also miss the opportunity to see people happy with YOUR work. Now get your ass up and get ready." He says and leaves the room, to get ready himself.

It's not that you don't want to go, you really do. Afterall, all of it is your hardwork. But the reason you're not going is because of that asshole. That asshole with whom you used to go out with once, the one who's current goal is to bring you down. The one and only, Tom Holland. You two used to date at some point, the ones who were in love actually, but the rivalry you two have got going on now has lead to you two knowing too much about each other. More than you know about yourself, the other knows it all. Small arguments turned into big ones, that eventually lead to the two of you leaving each other alone. You don't want to go because whenever you meet him, it all turns up into a big mess and your night is typically ruined, and you weren't in the mood for that, atleast not today. He's just a narcissistic bitch who thinks of nothing but degrading you. And that's the reason you don't want to go. Because you know if you talk to him one more time, these banters will persuade you.

But you do realise that you have to go. You have to go because you haven't gone to the last two launches for your perfume and swim line as well, and if you don't go today, Laura will actually end you.

So you just chug all your tea, leaving the kitchen with a grunt to go get ready.

"Hey Marco, can you send in that pantsuit I got done the other day? Look over for modifications if possible, although it looks great in just the solid colour, and please get it drycleaned." You tell your designer over the phone, to which he agreed and you go into your room to get your hair and makeup done.

"Wear a dress to the launch of your fashion line when it gets famous, yeah?"

"Pantsuits all the way Holland, you know I hate dresses."

"I know you do."

You remember the faint memory from over two years ago, that dream actually coming true, just without the person you dreamt it with.

You put your hair in a low bun with a middle part, giving you a classy formal look, and you do a almost non existent makeup look, only your eyes bold to accent with your outfit. Marco drops off the forest green pantsuit at your house, you giving it a twist with wearing a lace corset beneath the blazer.

"I look hot." You told yourself.

You and Conan leave for the event, you fidgeting in between 15 minute durations, Conan reassuring you that he'll be with you until the night ends.

That didn't last long. You lost Conan as soon as you entered the venue, so you occupied yourself with having conversations with other company owners, hearing how they're doing in the industry, blah blah blah.

"Do I look like I care?" You say to yourself.

You move ahead, only to cross paths with the one and only. He was wearing a cherry coloured perfectly tailored suit, adding a hint of Tom with the glasses. He looked good.

"And what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Y/N?" He says, twirling his champagne glass in his hands.

"Look Holland I really don't have time for this shit, please take a goodie bag on your way home" You say with a bit of sass and start to move away, only to get your arm held back, making you bump in his chest.

"I see you wore the pantsuit you always wanted to wear at your event, angel " He says, making you pull away from him.

"Don't ever call me that again, and this is a warning." You were about to continue further with your answer, but you were utterly shocked to see the person in front of you.

"Is that the Y/N Y/L/N, in person, the one who's way too busy to answer my phone calls?" He says, making you laugh a bit.

"Jaeden?" You say, laughing heartily.

"In the flesh, tigeress." He says, doing grabby hands at you as an indication to pull you in a hug. You oblige and walk towards him and give him the biggest bear hug you've given anyone in two years. You pull back just to hit him on the chest once, playfully ofcourse.

"Tigeress. Oof haven't heard that in a while" You keep your conversation going on with Jaeden, while Tom is absolutely dumbfounded about whatever just happened in these past few seconds.

There's this hot guy named Jason or whatever, who calls you 'tigeress' and you aren't pestering him for calling you with a nickname but you definitely were ready to give Tom a piece of your mind when he called you 'angel'? Who is this guy?

Tom goes off to find Conan, who was situated at the bar downing a shot of tequila.

"Hey who's that guy Jason?" He asks him, pointing towards you and Jaeden in the middle of the hall.

"You mean Jaeden?" He says, biting onto a slice of lemon.

"Yeah whatever who is he?" Tom asks again, turning towards to bartender asking for a glass of whiskey.

"Why do you want to know?" Conan shoots back.

"Just curious. Can you just fucking tell me now?" Tom tries again, getting frustrated now.

"Chill dude. Jaeden used to work with Y/N a long time ago. He had this crush on her for like forever, but then Y/N went in for entrepreneurship and they were just not in contact with each other." He says.

"Crush huh?" Tom says, gripping onto his glass so tight that his knuckles almost turned white.

"Why do you look like you're about to murder someone?" Conan asks, getting concerned.

"Because I might." Tom says, grinding his teeth while forcing a smile.

The night goes by pretty smoothly, for you. You and Jaeden were clinged to each other almost the whole night, and then Tom watching you both from a distance, trying not to snap hard at people. He just took enough of it, he had to do something. He wasn't really sure why was he jealous, 'maybe because you love her' his heart said, but his mind crossing paths with a 'no you don't' in the middle. He was in a dilemma, but was mostly leaning towards his heart's side. He finally got up from his seat and walked towards you.

"Y/L/N." He says, keeping his composure.

"Yes?" You turn around to come face to face with him, laughing on something Jaeden had said.

"Board of Directors want to meet you on third floor. I was going that way only, wanted to inform you." He says.

"Oh okay. Jaeden I'll be back in a few. And tell me about that Mario Kart incident." You say, your laughter dying as you walk towards the elevator, motioning Tom to move as well. You both enter the elevator and you click the button for third floor.

"So Jaeden's a long lost friend, I assume?" He tries to small talk, failing miserably.

"Yeah, I used to work with him a long time back. Why do you ask?" You say, being the nicest you've been to Tom in two years.

"Just making small talk. So, exactly how long ago, you used to work with him?" He tries again.

"A really long time ago." You tell him.

"When we were dating?" He says, hesitating.

The elevator dings and you reach third floor, both of you moving into a very empty hallway.

"Why do you care Tom?" You say, making him frustrated even more.

"Because you're my fucking ex-girlfriend whom I'm worried about because that asshole has a mega crush on you" He says, making you jerk your head towards him.

"How many whiskeys have you had?" You ask him, because he was sounding oblivious that's for sure.

You turn around to open the meeting room to find it empty, making you glare at Tom once again.

"Why the fuck did you bring me up here Holland, where's the meeting?" You say, narrowing your eyes towards him.

"There is no meeting Y/N, the Board didn't show up this year, remember?" He says moving and fidgeting around the room.

"Then why did you bring me up here, dumbass?" That put him over the edge. He starts walking towards you making you take a few steps back, finally cornering you in the room.

"Because that guy is fucking flirting with you Y/N. That guy has been roaming around the whole night with my girl, touching and hugging my girl in front of me and you expect me to keep my calm? Huh? I don't fucking care okay? You're supposed to be mine and I was a jerk who let you go. I can't stand seeing you with other people. What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N, why did you leave me?!" He shouts at you, making your blood boil even more.

You push him back and stand in front of him, glaring as if you were going to rip his head off.

"No Tom, YOU left me, alright? I cried almost every night after that day when you left, and you didn't even have the empathy to give me a call. You, are too self-absorbed, and not me Tom. It was all you. I haven't been to even one of my launches just because I know you'll be there, you'll be there to put me down again. And why the fuck do you care about whom I talk to huh?" You shout at him.

"Why would I come to every single one of your launches Y/N?! To see you! To see the person who understood me more than I did, just to fucking see your face and calm my nerves!" He shouts back. He moves towards you and holds you chin to put your eyes at his eye level.

"Look at me Y/N. Look at me. Did we mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you? Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. Tell me I meant nothing to you and I'll leave this second. Tell me that this was all a lie." He says, making your eyes water.

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Then why do you keep hurting me Y/N?! You hurt me so much! You left me when I needed you the most! I wanted you and you weren't there-" He shouts again.

"SHUT UP TOM, SHUT UP! Stop it! Stop! Please. Stop." You're crying hysterically now, hunching up in a corner trying to calm yourself down. Tom immediately sees it and runs towards you holding your hands and cradling them.

"Hey, hey Y/N. Look at me, look at me baby. It's Tom. Hey baby. I'm here, yeah? I'm here. Stop crying come on babe, please. Love, look at me. I'm here." He says, now running his hand over your cheeks wiping your tears.

"Go away. Go away from me." Is all you say, which makes his ears perk and brings water to his eyes.

He stands up and moves out of the room, closing the door just to hear you crying again. He sits down on the floor with his back on the door now, crying, waiting for you to say something.

"Please, open the door." He says, bursting into tears and hugging himself with his arms, wishing it was you.

Fifteen minutes pass by and you still haven't said anything. Tom misses you so much, and it was so fucked up of you to leave him like this. He was hurt, but he could never stop loving you. Ever.

"Losing you would be a nightmare that I'd beg to be awaken from everyday." You say opening the door, your eyes blood red, hair disheveled making Tom look at you, whose eyes were blood red too.

"What?"

"I was pregnant, Tom." You tell him, making his eyes widen and holding your hand for comfort.

"The day-" You clear your throat "The day we fought is when we lost the baby. I was going to tell you I was pregnant that day, but then that happened." You were crying a bit more now, but still held you composure so you can handle Tom from now.

"The argument gave me too much stress and, and it was affecting the baby so as soon as you left, um, my stomach started aching really badly and, and yeah we lost our baby then. That's why I left." You say, you were crying on his shoulder now, intentionally ignoring his reaction because you knew it would hurt him.

"We, we- lost our baby?" He says, a bit shocked but choking on his tears. You remain silent.

"Hey, hey. Listen. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I shouldn't have fought with you. You were already really worried and I just added onto your pressure. I'm so sorry baby I'm so so sorry." He was full-on crying now, he sniffled in your neck because he was too afraid to show his emotions.

"It wasn't your fault Tommy, it was ours." You say, running your hand in his curls. The way you missed his chestnut curls. It was all good again, well atleast you hoped.

Tommy. That always brought butterflies in his stomach.

You talked everything out in the bathroom, while washing your faces and cleaning up. You both understood that everything was going back to normal, just like the old times. One conversation lead to another, and you spent two hours on the bathroom floor just laughing and having gossip.

"It's been a while." You say laughing, looking at your watch.

"Yeah."

"Why did you say 'my girl' Tom?" You ask him directly.

"Hm?"

"You called me 'my girl' in the conference room. Why?" You tell him, and he instantly remembers that he did do that.

"You're in my head almost everyday Y/N. Even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't have been this hard letting go, but it was. I still love you, even if you don't." He says, taking some tissue paper off the counter.

"Who said I don't love you?" You say, making his eyes widen.

"Wha- wh- what are you implying here?" He stumbles upon his words, making you laugh.

"I still love you, you goof."

"Y/N you have to be serious you're making me want things I can't have." He says wholeheartedly.

You say nothing but grab him by his collar and kiss him with full force. After two years, you felt those soft lips on yours again, reminiscing every moment you had missed in these past years. They felt the same, soft and plump, just as if they were made for you. They fit in with yours like a puzzle, that was meant to be solved by these two hearts which were tangled, but now, in a right way. Tom kissed back almost immediately, feeling your lips was like a dream come true. A recurrent dream in his mind. You both pull back to see red and puffy lips and give out a light laugh. He doesn't stop, he keeps leaving peppery kisses all over your face mumbling sweet words again and again.

"I missed you so, so much angel." he says leaving a kiss on your nose.

"I missed you too bubba." you say leaving a small peck on his lips.

"Let's go now, we've been here for almost two hours." You start to move towards the door, but get pulled back by your waist.

"Tell Jaeden to maintain distance, yeah?" He says.

"Or what?" You say in a playful tone.

"Babygirl, I think you've forgotten what I'm capable of." He says, kissing your neck.

"I think I have. And stop kissing me I look shit." You say, laughing.

"I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss you senseless right now." He says leaving another harsh suck on your skin, which can hopefully be covered by your blazer.

"Are you going to eyefuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?" You say, now kissing Tom's sweet spot.

"Finish this event in the next half an hour. I'll see you at my house babe." He says leaving one last peck on your lips.

You both reach downstairs after fixing your makeup and hair, you reach upto the stage and and hold onto the mic.

"Thankyou all for attending the event. We look forward to having more business with you! Don't forget to post something about our line 'The Hollandairé' on your social media platforms and don't forget to tag us! We are, The Y/L/N's thankyou have a good night!"

He listen to you and smirks to himself, because you do do what you say.

"I'm going to name my first fashion line 'The Hollandairé' " You say making a banner with your hands.

"And I'll be right with you then baby" He says, kissing your cheek.

Looks like he kept his promise too.

tagging some friends whom i think would like to read!:

@hollandslittlekoala @hollandsmushroom @leafy-holland @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @t-lostinworlds

(pls do tell me if you don't want to be tagged further on!)

don't forget to reblog!

ilysmmmm. tpwk y'all!

#tom holland #tom holland and reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland gifs #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #raya writes #raya is a mohmaya #q #smut #angst #fluff #makeout #jealousy

190 notes · View notes

hwangsies · 4 years ago

Text

zephyr

(n) a gentle breeze

pairing: seo changbin x female reader (hwang hyunjin x female reader)

genre: rebound to fwb to dumbasses to lovers(?), college!au, undergroundrappers!3racha

warnings: angst: mentions of infidelity, heartbreak and abuse, seemingly unrequited love, they are both so dumb and prideful its annoying, fluff, bad attempt at comedy, minsung on the side, cursing, alcohol consumption, smut: protected piv, oral (f), studio sex, praise, mild degradation, hair pulling, mild spanking

wc: 10k

enjoy <3

September

"y/n?" you hear your roommates faint voice calling out your name.

You dont bother to answer because you know she's going to come into your room at any second now.

And you're right. "y/n??" Your door opens a few seconds later.

You groan in response, not looking up and instead staying in your little cocoon of blankets.

"no babygirl what are you doing?" you feel the bed shift under lias weight when she sits down.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" you grumble back, her hand gently rubbing over your arm.

"sulking, babe" she replies, dropping her purse to the ground.

"10 points for griffyndor" you sniffle as you scooch and sit up, pushing the blankets half off of you at which she sighs.

"wooyoung was not that good of a boyfriend for you to still be crying over him" lia presses her lips together concernedly.

She's right, you know it. It has almost been two months and you still feel like crying everytime someone mentions him.

"i know" you nod somewhat defeatedly "still, i was with him for almost a year and" you hiccup "he literally ripped my heart out and trampled on it"

"i know" lia nods understandingly "but i do think it would help if you went out again, even if its just for a night, you know just to be around people"

"it probably would but i just dont have the energy for it" you shrug your shoulders.

"i get it, girl, i really do" she pats your knee "both of my exes cheated on me, my only luck was that they were both awful at hiding it so i found out pretty quickly" she huffs.

You force out a chuckle, from what you heard from one of the girls that wooyoung cheated on you with, was that it started 3 months into your relationship.

"this the most humiliating thing ever, lia" you scoff "being with someone for so long, trusting them and telling them all your secrets and you think they are doing the same for you but then realizing that they were faking it all along to have multiple side chicks, and the fact that i was too oblivious to figure it out is the icing on the cake" you rub your forehead, feeling a migrane approach due to the sheer amount of crying you've been doing.

She seems to know what's happening and hands you the water bottle next to your bed "hydrate, sis"

So, you do. Taking four big gulps out of the water bottle.

Once you place the bottle next to you and tie your hair in a messy bun, you look at your roommate more thuroughly now that the tears are wiped away.

"you look pretty" you compliment her makeup and casual yet chic outfit "what'd you do tonight?"

Her contagious grin spreads over her face, eyes turning into little crescents.

"chris took me to the fair in town" lia grins before her face drops "I'm sorry, this is maybe not the time to ta-"

"No! It is, tell me about it" you interrupt her.

"O-okay" she nods hesitantly "well, i dont know if you've been keeping track but today was our fourth date and it was amazing" she gushes.

"I cant believe how much i like him, like, its crazy" she squeals a little, at which you giggle.

"so, fourth date huh? And he hasnt tried to get into your pants yet?" you quip.

"nope, i initiated our first kiss and other than that nothing" she whispers the last words before laughing.

"thats great" you smile, genuinely happy for her.

"Hmm yea" she sings as she gets up "i'll go to bed now too"

"Oh, hey, i have an idea" lia speaks up when standing in your doorway "chris has this performance thingy in two days, you should totally come!" she offers enthusiastically.

"he has a band?" you ask, partly to distract her from her offer.

"Hmm not really a band, they're a trio and there is this performance on saturday where a bunch of underground artists perform, i didnt fully listen if im honest" she giggles "but you should come with me!!" she jumps excitedly.

"i dont kno-"

"y/n pleasee? You'd do me a huge favor too because i dont know anyone there" lia pleads, clutchig her hands together.

"you know chris" you rebuttal.

"and what am i supposed to do when he's performing? stand around like an idiot? please y/n" she pouts.

"I dont really think this is my type of crowd..." you scratch your head.

"please please please" she jumps once more.

You sigh and tilt your head as you look at her sternly.

"one of his friends is single" she adds carefully.

"and cute" she sings "from what ive seen in pictures" she adds.

"lia" you groan.

"I'll do your laundry for two weeks if you come with me"

"you will?" Your head snaps towards her.

"yes i will! i promise, just come with me, please?"

A long sigh leaves your lips "okay"

The strong bass of the loud music rings in your chest as soon as you step foot into the club where “3racha” is supposed to be performing tonight.

Lia comes to a halt and you almost run into her because you were to busy checking out the venue and the other people around you.

“sorry” you mumble and hold onto her arm to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

She pulls out her phone and clicks on her and hers and chris’s chat, to figure out where to meet them, you assume.

“okay” lia puts her phone back into her jeans pocket and grabs your hand “they’re backstage, lets go”

“can we just go there?” you almost yell for her to understand what you’re saying.

“yea! Chris said he’ll make sure we’ll get in, come on” she tugs at your hand for you to walk faster.

You waddle behind her, barely dodging some drunk guys beer that goes flying before you arrive at the sign that says “artists only” and a black curtain behind it.

The guy standing infront of it raises a brow at the two of you before pointing at said sign “read ladies, no fans allowed”

“hey, they’re with me” a guy, you assume to be chris, taps on his shoulder and shows his artists badge, half of his body still covered by the curtain.

The bigger guy sighs and lets you through.

“thank you” lia lets go of your hand to loop her arms around chris’s neck once behind the curtain, they kiss and you look around.

Not because you are particularly uncomfortable, maybe still just a little bitter at happy couples.

You audibly clear your throat when they are still making out after a good ten seconds.

“oh-uhm” lia looks back at you after breaking the kiss “chris, this is y/n, y/n, chris” she giggles.

“hi y/n, nice to meet you” he gives you a quick hug and a smile full of dimples, finally understanding why your roommate is always swooning about him.

“hi” you smile back, somewhat forced.

“lets go to our dressingroom” chris suggests and leads the way.

Opening the door, he lets you and lia walk in first.

One guy is dancing around in the middle of the room, singing along to the current song that’s being played in the background with a water bottle as a pretend mic.

Another is one sitting on the small couch and laughing at him.

“oh, hi” the guy stops singing and quickly hides the bottle behind himself at which chris chuckles.

“guys, this is lia and y/n” chris points at the two of you before closing the door behind him.

“ooo the lia?” the waterbottle guy wiggles his eyebrows, at which you cant help but laugh as well, he isn’t very tall but looks lean.

“what is the lia supposed to mean?” lia laughs when chris comes up and slings an arm around her waist from behind her.

“I..well-I talk about you sometimes-“

“sometimes my ass” the guy sitting on the couch scoffs amusedly, your eyes shift to him.

He’s wearing a white baseball cap and a pretty tight fitted black Versace shirt, making his shoulders and arms look broad.

His hands clad in black half-gloves, he adjusts his cap before locking eyes with you and quickly looking down again.

“channie hyung must’ve forgotten his manners, I’m jisung” the waterbottle guy speaks up “and that’s changbin hyung” he points at the most intimidating-looking of the three of them, on the couch.

“channie?” lia squeals as she sits down with chris on the couch changbin is sitting on as well, jisung coming up to you.

“hey, you want something to drink?” he asks, pointing at the mini bar feigning cockiness “we have a mini bar”

“woow” you chuckle, playing along “sure I’d love a drink”

“how come we’ve never met on campus before?” jisung asks after mixing you a vodka soda and sitting down on the second couch in the room.

“oh, you all go to uni here as well?” you ask surprisedly as you sit down next to him..

“yea” he grins “that’s how we all met” he points at lia and chris almost sitting on top of each other “and those two”

“oh I didn’t even know that” you take a sip, trying to loosen up “I guess I wasn’t listening when she was ranting on about him”

Jisung laughs and changbin joins the two of you as he sits down next to jisung.

“they just started calling each other bubs I feel like throwing up” changbin groans as he drinks from his beer.

You huff before jisung speaks again, looking from his friend back to you “he’s usually more romantic” he quips.

“I bet” you joke with him.

“yup” changbin locks eyes with you “that’s why I’m single, I’m just too romantic” he shakes his head sarcastically.

“ooh” you squint your eyes “emotional unavailability? love that in a man” you grin, at which his eyebrow quirks up amusedly.

“speaking of man, did minho hyung text you when he’d be here?” jisung asks his friend.

“yea he said he’ll be here in 5 and that you should finally buy a new phone” changbin answers, reading it from his phone at which jisung scoffs before turning to you.

“minho is my boyfriend” he explains “he’s hot” he grins at which you laugh “I bet”

“so, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” jisung asks after taking a sip of his drink

“not anymore” you scoff, jisung inhales excitedly “guess what, changbin is single as well” he grins from ear to ear, comically looking back and forth between you two.

“oh, please dont start like lia” you chuckle, leaning forwards to lock eyes with changbin “no offense, but I only attract assholes”

He shakes his head, amusedly raising his brows “none taken” he grins at which you huff before a young woman comes into their dressing room to tell them they’re up next.

Back in the crowd, you and lia find a good place just as the lights dim and the music begins to play.

Suddenly you feel someone run into your side “woah I’m sorry” he quickly apologizes “this guy pushed me” he looks behind him.

“its alright” you nod, loud enough for him to hear.

Once they come outside, the crowd goes wild.

“jisungieee” the guy next to you all over sudden screams, you have to smile when looking at him.

“are you minho by any chance?” you ask him.

He nods aggressively “yea! do you know jisung?”

“I just met him backstage” you yell over the loud bass.

Minho laughs and nods before the bass drops and chris starts the first verse.

“he’s great right?” lia screams into your ear when the first chorus ends.

“yea” you nod, actually surprised at how good their music is, now understanding as to why the crowd loves them so much.

Changbin starts his verse and suddenly you feel somewhat entranced, his voice is rough and his bars are hard, definitely fitting his appearance but what entices you is the passion with which he appears to be performing.

Throughout their whole performance you cant take your eyes off him, the way his arms flex when he grips onto the microphone a little harder or the way his jugular sticks out when he growls into the microphone.

Not to mention the thighs you somehow didn’t notice in their dressing room, you watch them strain against his leather pants and feel even hotter suddenly.

Their last song ends and lia is quick to be in your ear about going backstage to chris again.

“oh you know chan hyung?” minho overhears and chimes in.

“yea she’s his date” you point at your overly excited roommate.

“changbin just texted and said they’re upstairs in the vip lounge, come with me” the brunette holds out his hand for you to take, which you do and grab lia with the other one.

“do you know where you’re going?” you ask minho after a minute of pressing yourself along sweaty dancing bodies.

“yea! they’re here a lot” he yells back “its right over there” he points to a flight of stairs where yet another bouncer is standing in front of.

“hey minho” the bouncer greats him with a fist bump “these girls are with you?” he points at lia and you.

“yea” he nods.

“trying something new, I see” he laughs atw hich you frown.

“oh, nono” minho chuckles uncomfortably “I’m still with jisung”

“ah-alright well, have fun” the bouncer moves after looking you all up and down, letting you walk up the stairs.

“wow, you’re famous” lia giggles at which minho huffs and shakes his head amusedly “yea, for being the only non-straight person they know”

“baby” you see jisung jump up from his seat in the spacious lounge as soon as you enter.

“hii” minho holds out his arms for him to run into, you cant stop yourself from smiling when you see jisung jump into his boyfriends arms.

“lia, y/n come over here” chris waves at the two of you.

“you were so good, baby” you hear minho praise jisung behind you as you walk over to the large round sitting booth where chan and changbin are sitting.

Lia slides into the booth and cuddles into chans side “you were awesome” she squeals as you sit down on the other end and grab a fresh glass from the middle of the round table, holding it next to changbins where he’s pouring cherry vodka into.

“can i get some?” you ask, he glances at you and smirks before silently filling your glass with a double shots worth of the slightly rosy liquid.

“so, how did you like it?” he asks as he leans back, taking a swing of his drink.

“you guys were really good” you nod “to be honest I didn’t expect such high quality music”

He laughs, leaning his head back a little, his adams apple bopping with it.

You cant help but notice the sheer sheen of sweat that expands over his thick neck, obviously coming from their escapades on stage just now.

“what did you expect? a bunch of drunks playing wonderwall on the guitar for more drunks?” he grins, straight white teeth on display.

“hey, don’t come for wonderwall” you raise your hand jokingly at which he laughs.

“I wouldn’t dare” he raises his hands comically.

“hey” you whip your head around to see jisung and minho “scoot, please” jisung speaks again.

“oh-yea” you grab your drink and scoot further into the half circle-shaped booth.

“so what do you study?” changbin asks, his voice catches you off guard because you hadn’t calculated how close you’re sitting to him.

You turn to him to realise you’re close enough to smell his perfume and aftershave.

“uh- I- art” you answer shakily before taking a sip of your drink just to pull a face afterwards.

“jesus christ” you cough a little and hold your chest as changbin laughs.

“its stronger than you’d think” he grins “can you handle it?” he teases when your eyes get a little watery.

You stare at him for a second before playfully rolling your eyes “im good”

His eyes trace over your face as you look around before he breaks the silence ”i can get you something else if you want” he offers.

“oh-uh no, I’m just being dramatic its fine” you chuckle.

“so...what do you study?” you change the topic.

“I’m majoring in music” he says, stretching out his arms over the backrest “all three of us are”

“oh, so you like, produce all your own stuff?” you ask, your eyes jumping to where his forearm touches your shoulder, that’s leaning against the backrest.

“yea, channie hyung composes the most, me and ji write a lot” he explains,

“thats really cool” you nod, looking over to the mentioned guy.

Changbin follows your eyes and huffs when the both of you see him and your roommate sucking face again.

After a few seconds they stop and giggle before standing up to go somewhere.

“where are they going?” you huff.

“I guess they want some alone time” he chuckles, lifting the arm close to you to take off the cap he’s still wearing.

You flinch when his forearm brushes your shoulder.

“are you scared of me?” he asks slowly, stopping his movements, cap still in hand.

“no- no” you shake your head, chuckling “I- its just been a while since I’ve gone out and I don’t know” you shrug “I feel a little lost”

“hm” changbin cocks his brow at your words, running one hand through his dark brown locks.

You divert your eyes from his bulging bicep back to his face quickly when he speaks again.

“any reason why?” he leans back again.

“oh, just a shitty ex and a shitty breakup” you shrug “I’m gonna spare you the details”

“aw, no please, tell me he had a small dick and everything, now im invested” he jokes.

You tsk at him and push his arm playfully, feigning annoyance.

“that still doesn’t answer my question as to why you jumped like that when my arm touched you” changbin raises his brows expectantly.

You open your mouth to speak but-

“we’ll go get some more to drink” minho interrupts you at which changbin nods.

“so?” he asks again, once minho and jisung leave.

“did that ex hit you? give me his address I’ll beat him up for you” changbin deadpans.

“no” you shake your head after taking another sip “he didn’t” you huff incredulously.

“its just- you look kinda scary” you blurt out finally.

His eyes widen before he falls into a boyish laughter, which you cant help but join.

“me?” he points at himself before laughing again, the image you had made up in your mind about him cracking.

“yea!” you raise your brows “when you look like this” you furrow your brows and lightly squint your eyes to mimic his resting bitch face.

“what the-” he splutters laughingly.

“stoop, don’t laugh” you hold onto his forearm, still giggling yourself.

He calms himself, subconsciously scooting closer to you in the now empty booth.

“maybe scary wasn’t the right word” you snicker, looking down.

“I think the word you were looking for was: sexy, hot or mysterious, maybe handsome-” he quips, grinning to himself when you start laughing again.

“no, no, I know what I meant” you joke back, just now noticing how close he is, his knee touching yours as his whole torso is turned to you.

“so none of my suggestions are accurate?” he cheekily raises one brow at which you scoff playfully.

“maybe one or two” you see his eyes jump to your lips.

The air suddenly feels thick around you with tension, changbins tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip while his eyes are still locked on yours.

You breathe in before the two of you lock eyes again "so…are you gonna kiss me, or just stare?"

He raises his brows at your sudden boost of confidence, grinning amusedly.

"what happened to me being scary?" he counters before urging you to swing one leg over his thighs with gentle hands.

You take a seat on his lap, straddling his thick thighs before looping your arms around his neck "i dont know, i think i'm into it" you quip.

His hands wander up your waist "well then i wont make you wait any longer" he grins, looking at your lips one last time before closing the gap inbetween you two.

You meet him in the middle, changbins grip on your waist tightens when his plush lips land on yours.

He pulls you closer to him, pushing his tongue past the seam of your lips.

You can taste the cherry vodka on his tongue but it riles you up even more, sucking at the wet muscle before his hands wander over the swell of your ass and each grab a handful of the flesh; your short skirt riding up when you subconsciously grind against his lap.

“be careful” he mumbles against your lips, gently tugging down the piece of fabric so you don’t expose yourself to bywalkers.

“where’s the fun in that?” you cock your head to the side teasingly.

Changbin scoffs and leans in again but you get interrupted by jisung.

“hey, we-oh” you whip your head around.

Jisungs frown turns into a grin “uh” he chuckles “we dont mean to interrupt but chan hyung texted minho and they’re going to your place” he points at you.

“ugh, seriously?” you mutter.

“I’m sleeping at minhos so, hyung you’ll have our place to yourself” he winks at changbin.

“so, we’re out too, have fun you guys” minho waves teasingly as jisung drags him away.

For a second you stare after them, until a gentle squeeze at your waist makes you turn around again.

“you could come over to my place if you don’t want to go to yours right now” he offers, eyes flickering to your lips when you bite at your lower one.

This is usually like not you, letting some guy you barely know take you home.

But here you are the next morning, looking up at the ceiling, changbins room flooded with daylight.

You sit up and look at the still unconscious changbin next to you. His blanket had fallen down and exposes his toned torso, barely covering his private parts.

A tingle forms in your lower abdomen when you think of what happened here a few hours ago.

But you pull yourself together and start looking around for your clothes.

You spot your bra on his desk and your skirt and shoes on the floor, gently shimmying out from underneath the blanket; you grab your skirt and slide it on without your panties, not being able to find them anywhere.

Right as you clasp your bra behind your back, changbins morning voice makes you flinch “you would’ve just snuck out?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as you look back at him.

“what? did you take me for a breakfast lover?” you quip as you slide into your shoes, looking around for your shirt.

“damn, that’s cold” he chuckles lowly, sitting up and watching you stride around his room.

“where did you put my shirt?” you ask, bending down to look under his desk.

“maybe you should worry about your panties first” he snickers, eyes glued to your core when you look back at him.

You kiss your teeth and straighten up quickly, having forgotten about your lack of underwear.

“not that that wasn’t a great view just now-“

“you’re not helping” you interrupt him, eyes lighting up when you spot your shirt in the hallway.

“why so serious all over sudden?” he grins “last night you were everything but tense”

You scoff as you pull your shirt over your head and stuff it into your skirt before grabbing your purse and phone.

“I have an exam in 2 days and I haven’t studied yet” you exhale.

“I could drive you home-“ he runs a hand through his messy hair.

“I’ll call a cab, uhm- thanks for last night” you hurriedly smile before walking out.

“bye” changbin calls after you, frowning and dropping back down onto his bed when he hears the door shut behind you “have a nice day I guess” he mumbles to himself.

October

You cling your jacket closer to your body as you walk through the howling wind the seasonal change had brought with it.

When you arrive at lias faculty building you take out your phone to see if she texted you about when her lecture would be over.

lia : hey babe, chris took me to his place -received at 4:17 pm

You roll your eyes, typical you think.

you : are you serious? you begged me to walk home with you -sent at 4:25 pm

You see her the little blue bubble pop up, indicating that she’s writing a message.

lia : im sorry!! please don’t be mad, he surprised me :((( -received at 4:25 pm

You scoff and turn off your phone before slipping it in your coats pocket alongside your hands. Typical, you think, ever since that night at the club the two of them have become inseparable and lia cancelling on you had become a regular thing. You are happy for her but you also miss your friend.

“y/n?” a familiar voice calls after you right as you start to walk away, you freeze and turn around.

“yea?- oh” you swallow harshly when you see changbin walk your way.

“hey” he smiles brightly and you have to bite back a grin at the cute beanie he’s sporting alongside his slightly red nose due to the cold weather.

“hi” you smile timidly.

“you never texted” he tilts his head at which you nod.

“yea, sorry I actually never got your number” you look at the ground “uh- what are you doing here?”

“oh um im on my way to the studio” he points at a nearby building “that’s the music faculty”

“ah okay, well” you lock eyes “have fun then” you turn around again, ready to walk away.

“hey” he catches up with you “you wanna join me? check out some of our new stuff?” he burries his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I don’t know, changbin I really don’t want to date right now-“ you start at which he chuckles.

“I didn’t ask you to marry me” he stops in his tracks, grinning when you do as well, locking eyes “come on, I just need an unbiased opinion on some new tracks” he tilts his head.

You inhale before looking around you “I could drive you home after? So you don’t have to walk through this weather?” he offers, raising his brows at which you purse your lips.

“alright” you give in, changbin smiles and extends his elbow for you to hold.

You simper and coyly hook your hand around his arm as the two of you start walking.

“this is awesome!” you point to his laptop a minute after he played the first song for you.

Changbin grins bashfully and leans back into his desk chair “you think?”

“yea, the hook is super catchy” you bob your head as his eyes fix on your profile “you’re really talented, changbin” you catch him blushing before putting on another song.

After a few other songs, he takes off his headphones when you take off yours.

“can I ask you something?” he asks, you glance at him.

“you just did” you quip at which he huffs, “sure” you nod.

“how much of that night do you remember?” he fiddles with one of the rings on his left hand.

“why?” you ask back.

“well, you seemed really upset the next morning so I got kind of scared that you didn’t actually want it and I kind of took advantage of you” he recalls the night the two of you spent together.

“oh, no. you didn’t take advantage of me, I wasn’t even drunk and I would’ve told you if I had changed my mind or something. That was just the first time I ever spent the night at a guys house for a one night stand” you absently pick off some fuzzies from your jeans.

“plus I had just come out of a relationship so I was a little too emotional anyways” you chuckle.

“alright” changbin nods “just wanted to make sure” he smiles down at his hands “cause I remember all of it”

You whip your head, scoffing when you see him with a shit eating grin on his face.

“hm” you feign ignorance as you lean back “I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot to remember” you grin mischievously.

He laughs out loud, leaning forwards “no?”

You shake your head, pursing your lips comically “nah”

“cause I remember you shaking and screaming” he grins.

You shrug your shoulders “weird, must’ve faked it” you deadpan, fiddling with the headphones you’re still holding.

Changbins tongue prods on the inside of his cheek, huffing when he catches you grinning.

“right” he grins slumping into his seat a little further.

A thought flashes in your head when your gaze drops to his crotch and thick thighs, you swallow some spit in frustration as you feel your core getting hotter.

He was right, the night was amazing, maybe that was even part of the reason you stormed out the way you did.

You clench your thighs for some relief, anything really.

“want me to refresh your memory?” your eyes jump up to meet his, you open your mouth but nothing comes out; do you want him to?

Yes. Yes you do.

So, you get up and straddle him on his chair: his hands instantly gripping at your hips, pulling you closer.

“someones eager” he grins, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“shut up” you whisper before crashing your lips onto his.

Changbin groans when you tug at his hair, inviting you to slip your tongue in between his lips and grind your hips over his crotch.

He hisses before propping himself up on one armrest and holding your lower back with the other as he stands up; you squeal but he holds you before sitting you back down on the desk, next to his laptop.

“now who’s eager” you grin when his hands find the waistband of your leggings and tug them down with your panties in one.

He huffs as he bunches your leggings and panties around your ankles before slipping underneath the fabric barrier and inbetween your legs.

“by the looks of it..” he runs a finger through your wet folds “still you” he quips before pushing one finger in without warning.

You moan, you head dropping back onto the hard wooden surface.

“look at me” changbin orders as a second finger prods at your entrance, you whimper but prop yourself up on your elbows.

He curls the two fingers and pumps them almost violently, the palm of his hand smacking your clit with every pump.

“oh god-“ you yelp, your eyes scrunching together as your hips buck up.

“its changbin but god is fine too” he quips as he lowers his head, you curse at him, even though you have to laugh a little.

“you’re so annoy-ah!” you cry out because suddenly his tongue is lapping over your swollen clit, sucking on it forcefully when you claw one hand into his already messed up dark locks.

“fuck-bin- gonna cum” your hips stutter and you feel the pleasure that’s blooming in your tummy is getting ready to snap.

“mmh” he humms against you “cum then, baby” he moans, knowing full well what the added vibrations are doing to your body when your chest arches and your mouth drops open.

Your cries fill the studio as you clamp down on his fingers; he rides your through your high, holding down your hips with his unoccupied hand because you squirm with the euphoria that’s filling your veins.

“good girl” he mumbles, removing his fingers from you before bringing them up to your lips “now, suck them clean for me, yea?” he grins, lips and chin shiny with your cum.

“finally” you huff when arriving at 3rachas lounge in a club out of town; where they had just performed “this club is huge” you breathe, jisung scooting and changbin letting you squeeze past him to take a seat in between them as they chuckle.

Lia and chan already lost in their own world again as she drags him to the dancefloor, squealing when chan teasingly squeezes her sides as they disappear into the crowd.

“they are made for each other” minho sighs, sitting down and giving jisung the second beer from his hands.

“I know right” you lean back, breathing in.

“you’re still out of breath?” changbin laughs at you at which you hit his arm.

“stop it, oh my god” you feign annoyance “you know how exhausting it is to dodge beer bottles and not loose lia? she’s like a Chihuahua, I swear, you loose her once and its over” you chuckle, jisung and minho laughing too.

“you just don’t have any endurance, woman” changbin grins teasingly.

“that’s so not true” you laugh incredulously “what about two nights ago-“

“AH-“ jisung interrupts you, placing his hands over his ears “please spare us your sex stories, I hear enough of that when you’re over, babe”

You huff and changbins cheeks turn red.

“you guys are fucking?” minho asks, eyebrows raised as he takes a swing of his beer.

“good job keeping up, baby” jisung pats his boyfriends thigh teasingly at which he tsks at him.

“are you together or what?” minho props his elbow on the table to support his chin with his hand as he looks at the two of you expectantly.

“no, we’re not” you chuckle somewhat uncomfortably before looking over at changbin who just grins awkwardly.

“just here to be a good friend and keep the groupies away” you joke “right?” you nudge changbin with your elbow at which he nods swiftly, looking down again.

“yea, baby don’t be so old fashioned” jisung teases his boyfriend who just rolls his eyes playfully.

“speaking of groupies” minho mutters, spotting a group of girls just before they approach the lounge.

“hey jisungie, you wanna dance?” a pretty blonde girl bats her eyelashes as she leans down a bit to expose more of her cleavage, making jisung grin.

“baby, you’re gorgeous but I’m very gay” he nods apologetically, “Oh” she straightens up “really? You sure?”

You and changbin have to bite back a laugh when jisung nods again “very sure, thanks though, for coming”

She shrugs and looks at changbin “what about you? Wanna dance?”

“uh-“ changbin starts but you cut him off “he’s with me actually” you tilt your head.

“for real?” she stems her hands into her hips as she looks back at her posse, scoffing.

“yea” changbin loops his strong arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him “that’s my girl, so a little respect, please”

“aww” you coo dramatically as you play along, putting your hand on his jaw to turn his head towards you before you lock lips.

“whatever” you faintly hear the girls voice get quieter when changbin slips his tongue in between your lips.

“they’re gone” you hear minho but changbin pulls your legs to dangle over one of his thighs as he grips your waist.

“guys” jisungs voice only registers in the back of your head when changbin sucks at your bottom lip and you run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“can I get you some more beers?” the waitresses voice pulls the both of you out of your trance as you break the kiss abruptly.

Jisung laughs, shaking his head at the both of you before turning to the waitress “we’ll take a round of shots I think”

November

“fuck-harder” you gasp “..mhh binnie-shit” you moan while changbin pounds into you from behind, gripping your hip tighter with one of his hands; the other one migrating up your back to gather the legth of your hair, twisting them before he pulls at their root.

You groan when you feel your hair getting pulled back, neck stretching as he picks up his pace.

“like this? fuck you love this don’t you?” he breaths ragged, but you can hear the dirty smirk that lingers on his lips every time you have rough sex..

You moan out loudly when he releases your hair and pushes your torso down onto the mattress, your hand pulling at the sheets , needing something to grip and release the pleasure.

“fuck- answer me, slut” he grunts and delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

You cry out “yes-yes-fuck-love it” you desperately gasp as he leans down to you, earning a low chuckle which sends shivers down your back.

His lips latch onto your shoulder blade and start sucking on the skin until a purple mark blooms under his lips.

“fuck” you let out a strangled yell when the hand on your hip makes its way to your front and he started circling your clit with his fingers, the pace and firmness matching his thrusts.

You cry out for him as you clench furiously around his cock “that’s a good girl” he whispers, only letting go of your clit when you flinch in overstimulation.

“cum for me- fuck baby, cum for me and let the others know who’s fucking you this good” he rasps in your ear. Not 5 seconds later, your orgasm ripples through you and you would’ve collapsed completely if he wasn’t holding you up.

You’re still panting when both of his hands go back on your hips and push them down, laying you flat on the mattress before he picks up his pace again with his last left strength to reach his own high.

“shit- y/n“ he grunts when you tighten around him again and you feel him filling the condom with some drawn out groans and a sharp hiss.

After a few seconds of nothing but heavy breathing filling the room, he pulls out and falls next to you on his bed.

You wince at the soreness that’s already presenting itself when you turn around on your back, looking over to him; you watch as he ties a knot in the condom and throws it into the trash next to his desk.

“kobe!” he exclaims gleefully at his perfect throw before looking back at you to see if you saw.

“jesus christ why am I sleeping with you” you hold your hands over your face, hating the fact that it made you laugh.

He gasps, feigning to be offended “that’s not how you speak to the guy that just made you cum three times”

“you are so full of yourself, seo changbin” you shake your head amusedly as you sit up.

“wait, I’ll clean you up” changbin is quick to rise from his comfortable position to grab some tissues from his nightstand.

“come here” he mumbles, gently urging you to lie back down before carefully wiping your own cum off your inner thighs and mound.

You watch him as he gently moves to wipe the tissue over your puffy folds, your hips jumping a little when he accidentally passes your clit.

“sorry” he grins, pressing a kiss to your angled knee; at which you feel your heart lurch forward a bit.

Woah, wait.

You’ve been seeing changbin just for sex for almost two months now, you’ve even gone with him other performances and after parties to keep groupies away and be his arm candy and never has your heart done this.

Mayday. Abort mission.

“should be good for now” changbin shrugs, shooting you a sweet smile before turning away from you to also get rid of the tissues.

You use the opportunity to shuffle to the side of his bed and slip on your panties before grabbing your bra.

“hey, you wanna leave already?” changbin asks “I thought we could hang” he tucks his hand under his head as you look back at him, clipping your bra closed “watch a movie or something”

“sorry, I promised lia I’d help her clean the apartment today” you lie, surprisingly quick, before pulling your hoodie over your head.

“so you’re just gonna fuck me and leave again?” he jokes dramatically “I don’t even get cuddles?”

“shut up” you chuckle.

“am I nothing more to you than a pretty piece of meat?” he continues as you slip into your jeans, rolling your eyes playfully.

“a toy you use when you need stress relief??” he holds his chest dramatically.

You step into your shoes and raise your brows at him.

“are you complaining?” you ask playfully.

“nahh” he pulls his covers over his abs as he watches you grab your jacket from his desk chair.

"At least give me a 'gopdbye, thanks for the bomb dick, kiss" He grins when you scoff at him. So, you lean over him and press a quick peck to his lips; he whines playfully when you lean back up again, sitting up and catching your lips with his roughly once more.

“alright, see ya” you shrug."

And shit, your heart does it again. What are you doing?

You break the kiss and ruffle through his hair.

“ugh” he huffs annoyedly, fixing his hair “I hope you have trouble walking” he quips as you go for the door.

“I’ll text you if I don’t” you wink at him before closing his door, leaning against it from the outside and closing your eyes.

“fuck” you whisper to yourself before making your way through the guys apartment.

“don’t break his heart, y/n” minhos voie comes from behind as you twist the doorknob.

“huh?” you trun around to look at him, he’s wearing a shirt that you know to be jisungs so he must be staying over.

“I’ve known changbin for a while, he seems tough but he’s a softie deep down” he crosses his arms over his chest “he hurts easier than you think”

“we- we’re both not in this for anything serious” you stammer “what do you mean?”

“I see the way he looks at you, y/n” minho smiles softly “I’m not telling you how to live your life, just, be honest with him… and yourself for that matter” he quirks one brow up, smiling before disappearing around the corner.

You squint your eyes as you’re trying to make out the label of the cereal boxes in the upper shelves, looking back at your phone you check to see what brand lia had texted you about so you don’t accidentally buy the wrong thing.

“fuck” you mumble when you see her desired cereal at the top of the shelf, so you reach up but to no avail.

“y/n?” you lower your heels to the floor again before turning around to see…

“hyunjin?” you face drops in awe.

“hey!” the tall young man smiles widely, opening his arms and inviting you to a hug.

“wow, hi” you hug him back.

Damn, what happened to him? The last time you saw him was before he moved away in 10th grade.

You used to be good friends with him, or, well, the freakishly skinny and lanky highschool version of him you met in dance class.

By the feel of it, even through the trenchcoat he’s wearing, you can tell he’s bulked up quite a bit.

After letting go of him, you cant help but stare.

His acne had cleared up and his brown hair is chin length with the top parts pulled back into a little pony tail, leaving some face framing strands in the front.

“wow- you look-“ you blink a few times to make sure you’re not dreaming “…really good, hyunjin”

He smiles on the ground, his pretty plump lips parting to reveal beautiful pearly whites which used to be covered by braces.

“so do you” he grins.

“no- I mean you look… good-good” you splutter, laughing awkwardly “like what are you a model now or something?”

“actually, yea- part time” he chuckles.

“oh” you huff “wow of course” you shake your head laughingly, blushing furiously when he doesn’t break eye contact.

“so- uhm” you gulp, making him grin even wider “what are you doing here?”

“I’m transferring here” he nods “better dance programme” he explains shortly.

“oh you still dance” you observe out loud “I haven’t danced in a while” you look down.

“you should come by after practice sometime” he offers “to catch up- or dance if you want” he giggles, a little dimple appearing on his left cheek.

“yea, I’d love that” you smile, nodding before he takes out his phone.

“put in your number, I’ll text you” he smiles softly when holding it out to you.

“mhm” you agree, saving your number in his phone and trying not to think about him staring at you the whole time.

“alright well” he checks his phone for the time, you guess “I gotta get going, only came here for this” he chuckles, holding up a carton of milk that you, weirdly enough, haven’t noticed until now.

“alright” you nod before he moves in for a hug again.

“bye” he smiles when loosening his arms again.

“bye” you mumble, staring at the back of his perfect head as he walks away.

You were about to pull out your phone and rant to lia about what just happened, when he stops in his tracks and turns around.

“almost forgot” he grins, reaching up and getting your cereal from the top shelf; winking when he places it in your hands, your body freezing.

“bye” he grins, walking away before you could thank him.

You had taken hyunjin up on his offer and met him in the dance studio after class where he showed you some of his contemporary pieces before you made your way to the popular coffee shop on campus together.

“-no seriously the second piece was my favourite I think, but they were all amazing!” you smile up at him at which he shakes his head cutely.

“can you stop complimenting me, y/n I’m getting all nervous” he laughs softly.

“oh please” you quip “with your talent and looks I would think nothing could make you nervous” you roll your eyes playfully.

Hyunjin huffs, opening the coffee shops door for you “you can” he says softly as you walk past him, you turn around to him to see him blush a litte but diverting his eyes to the big menu above the counter.

Did he just flirt with you? No, you must be tripping.

You look around to see only two other people sitting in one of the booths together, the cold must keep most people home, you think before hyunjin gently pulls at your sleeve to get your attention.

“what do you want?” he asks, the barista looking at you expectantly.

“uhm- a hot chocolate please” you say, reaching in your purse to get your wallet.

“I’ll take the same” hyunjin smiles politely, giving the barista money.

“on me” he smiles down at you.

“oh, thank you” you smile sheepishly, letting go of your purse again.

Once your hot chocolates are ready, you sit down in one of the booths, hyunjin sliding in to sit across from you.

“I was back home last week before I came here, you’ll never guess who I met” hyunjin grins.

“who?” you ask curiously.

“tim” he grins.

“tim?” your eyes almost pop out of your head “as in my first boyfriend tim?” you laugh, holding your hand to your face incredulously.

“but he moved away as well?” you half ask.

“yea he said he was visiting his grandparents, but guess the best part” hyunjin bites his lip

“what?” you chuckle.

“he got a nose job” hyunjin bites back a laugh when you gasp surprisedly “really?”

“one word” hyunjin says “botched…”

“aw no, poor tim” you frown, looking down at your hot drink as memories from back in the day come back to you.

“he always used to put his hand up my shirt when hugging” you frown, making hyunjin laugh.

“it was 9th grade y/n what did you expect?” you scoff at his rethorical question.

“I don’t know, some basic manners maybe?” you counter playfully…slowly letting the conversation die down as you both take sips from your cocoa.

“how come we never dated?” he asks softly after aminute of silence, looking up at you.

“we were friends?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“come on” hyunjin sits back in his booth “you must’ve known I had the biggest crush on you”

“you did?” you almost launch forwards in your seat, making hyunjin laugh.

“well, I guess you didn’t know then” he giggles, hiding his face in his hands embarrassedly.

“anyways, I would’ve paid good money to be able to slip my hand up your shirt” he jokes, cheeks reddening when you laugh.

“I honestly liked you a lot back then” you say “if you would’ve said something we might’ve actually gone out” you shrug gently.

“damn, way to rub that in my face” hyunjin grins.

You hold his eye contact for a few seconds before you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks again, quickly lifting up your mug to take a sip and partly cover your face.

When you put your mug back down, hyunjin grins widely, mumbling a “cute” before slowly bringing his hand to your chin and gently swiping his thumb over your top lip where a foam mustache had formed.

You gulp when he swiftly sucks the foam off his thumb, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

When he notices, he leans over, slowly as if scared to overwhelm you.

That’s when minhos words pop up in the back of your head.

“be honest with him, and yourself for that matter”

But you aren’t together, and hyunjin is great and you want to kiss him but you know it would be wrong.

However, before you know it his lips are on yours and you’re not doing anything to stop him.

They are soft and inviting and you let him swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips, but then the little doorbell rings and you hear lias voice, followed by a male one before they abruptly stop, making you pull away abruptly.

Oh.

There they are, lia, chan, jisung and changbin; looking at you.

“y/n” lia grins widely, approaching your table “aren’t you gonna introduce us?” she squeals, hyunjin clears his throat and sits back down.

The three guys hesitantly follow lia when-

“woah- hyunjin?” chan speaks up.

“chan-hyung?” hyunjin gets up from his place to receive a hug from the older one as your eyes divert to changbin who is looking at the ground.

You aren’t together. Then why do you feel so guilty and why does he look so disappointed.

“he’s cute, girl” jisung grinningly interrupts your daydreaming, nodding towards chan and hyunjin who are still talking.

You force out a smile.

“how do you two know each other?” lia asks curiously.

“he went to my highschool, the last few years” chan grins.

“what a coincidence” you mumble, almost ironically.

“I went to highschool with y/n too, the first couple years though, then I moved away” hyunjin explains “oh, im sorry, I’m hyunjin by the way” he turns to jisung and changbin.

“I’m jisung, this is changbin” jisung smiles, pointing at his grumpy friend.

“I’m lia” lia grins “his girlfriend and her best friend” she points at chan before snuggling up to you, giggling.

Jesus, woman where do you get the energy? Is what you want to ask but you just flash another forced smile, hoping this moment will pass quickly.

“where were you guys?” you change the topic, hoping changbin would maybe look at you if you spoke up.

“oh, I caught them all huddled up in the studio” lia grins “they probably haven’t been outside in a week again” she giggles.

“true” jisung quips.

“hey lets all sit down” hyunjin suggests.

“I’ll get a coffee” changbin mumbles, walking back to the counter.

You usher lia to make way for you to get out of the booth, following him.

“bin” you stand next to him as he looks up at the menu but he ignores you.

“you could at least acknowledge my presence, your highness” you quip annoyedly.

“what do you want me to say, y/n?” he mutters.

“I didn’t know this would happen with him or I would’ve told you” you say, looking back at the other four talking and laughing in the booth.

“we’re not together y/n, you’ve made that very clear; if you wanna kiss lord farquaad go ahead, I’m not stopping you” he looks over to the booth as well.

“jesus christ” you huff “why are you so defensive then?”

“hi” changbin greets the barista who just came from the back “I’ll have an iced coffee to go, please” he orders.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you y/n, maybe I’m having a bad day” he answers when the barista makes his way to the coffee machines, you feel a lump from in your throat.

“yea, well thanks for making mine bad as well” you turn on your heels to join the others, hyunjin sees you coming back and scooches to make some space for you next to him.

You smile and thank him quietly when he also gives you your mug.

“everything alright?” he asks quietly, as to not disturb the others conversation.

“yea, just had to ask him some stuff” you smile at which he smiles back, turning back to the others.

After a minute changbin approaches the booth with his iced coffee “hey, I’ll run back to the studio I gotta finish that track”

“ugh, changbin I just dragged you out of there, stay for a second” lia protests and jisung nods along.

“nah, gotta get it done tonight” he shakes his head.

“alight see you later” chan nods.

“nice to meet you, man” hyunjin says, nodding at him as well.

“yea” changbin answers tight-lipped before walking out.

December

”I’m sorry, hyunjin” you frown “I’m just not ready for a relationship after what happened with my ex-“

“its alright y/n” his large hand encases yours “you don’t have to explain yourself to me”

You sigh in relief “I’m sorry I tried to rush things, it just, seemed to good to be true to find you here and everything” he says.

“but I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you want” he looks up at you.

“oh, jinnie you shouldn’t have to do that” you shake your head “I’m sure there are great girls out there who are emotionally ready to be with you”

“yea, but you’re the girl I want to be with” he says softly and your heart shatters into pieces because you’re not sure he’s the guy you want to be with.

You fight yourself through the crowd at 3rachas last performance of the year, at the same venue where you met them for the first time. Just like the time before, chan makes sure lia, hyunjin, minho and you are able to come backstage.

“I’m excited to see you perform, man” hyunjin grins at chan, patting his shoulder “your stuff was already dope back then…” they continue speaking as you enter their dressing room.

Jisung greets his boyfriend as you and lia sit down on the leather couch.

Changbin is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair before his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, but he just diverts them to chan who’s grabbing a beer for hyunjin and himself, you guess.

“did you have to invite him?” changbin semi-whispers to the older one, nodding at hyunjin, chan just frowns confusedly,making changbin shake his head and walk out.

You look at hyunjin who is talking to minho and jisung, and doesn’t seem to have heard changbin. So, you get up to follow him out but lia holds your wrist “y/n you cant keep running after him” she hisses.

“he cant keep treating me like im invisible, I just want to clear the air” you free your arm and walk out to see changbin almost at the end of the corridor, walking out of a heavy door which, you think leads outside.

After reaching the door you open it to find him outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking down at his phone.

The cold air hits your skin and you shiver, only wearing a top and some jeans since its warm in the club.

Changbin notices you and looks up “what do you want, y/n?” he asks.

“that was real classy back there” you comment, holding your arms to your body to preserve some warmth. Changbin huffs, unfazed as he looks back at his phone “whatever, y/n”

“no, not whatever bin” you step closer to him “he asked me to date him” his head shoots up and you lock eyes, for a second they are soft in the way they look into yours but something changes and they turn mean when he speaks again.

“so? that’s a you proplem” he shrugs.

“its not a problem at all, he’s sweet and loving and cares about me but for some reason im standing here, hoping that you’ll give me a reason to not be with him” you feel your throat closing up with anger mixed with confusion when he starts chuckling.

“you’re not serious are you?” he squints and your heart drops, tears pooling at your lashline.

“of course not, I couldn’t expect someone as stubborn and- and comunicationally incompetent like you to understand anything about feelings” you turn on your heels when a teardrop rolls down your cheek.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, making you turn back “I’ve wanted to be with you since that moment in the club where you kissed me infront of all these girls. It was always you who was stubborn y/n, you never wanted to spend anymore time with me other than fucking” he snaps at you, taking a breather to start another sentence but you cut him off.

“-then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask quietly and he looks down.

“because- fuck” he lets go of your wrist “I didn’t want to scare you away, you in my bed was better than no you at all. But then fucking prince charming appears out of no where and sweeps you off your feet-”

“but I don’t want prince charming I want you” you blurt out, tears now streaming down your face, making him take a step back as his eyes soften.

“then why didn’t you say anything?” a small smile tugs at his lips as he closes the distance between you, gently running his hands up your arms, feeling the goosebumps brought on by the cold.

You huff, looking down and watching one of your teardrops melting a tiny hole into the snow before looking back up “because I’m stubborn and comunicationally incompetent” you sniffle “and stupid apparently”

A grin spreads over changbins face as his hands cradle your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs “so, you wanna be stubborn and stupid together?” he whispers, locking eyes with you.

You press your lips together, trying to keep yourself from sobbing even more as you nod.

He chuckles softly ”you can stop crying now, baby” at which you nod beathing in shakily but smiling when he pushes some hair out of your face.

“can you kiss me now please” you sniffle whiningly, huffing in a laugh when he pulls a face.

“i dont know babe, you’re a little snotty right now-” he jokes.

“shut up” you hit him, chuckling when he pulls you even closer by your waist and gently connects his lips with yours.

A soft wind blows through your hair and you loop your arms around his neck even tighter, deepening the kiss at which he moans, holding your waist tighter to his body.

The door creaks open and “are you guys finally together?” minhos voice makes you break the kiss.

“yea” you grin when jisung comes out after his boyfriend.

“nice” he grins, nodding at you.

“yea yea nice, beautiful love whatever, hyung we’re up, lets go” jisung rambles, laughing and running back inside when changbin pretends to hit him, minho shaking his head and following him.

“you’ll watch me yea?” your boyfriend grins at you, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

“from the front row, baby”

a/n: omg im finally done wth this took me so long yall, i started writing this sin september (which is why the fic starts in september as well lol) sorry about the winterly feelings i’m pushing onto you in the end but last week it literally snowed where i live so i was like uh?!?!?!? okay lets write some snowy shit, global warming ftw i guess....anyways i hope u liked it pls leave some feedback and/or ur favourite part ig lol i would appreciate it alot <33 (not proofred yet oopsie)

---

taglist: @kpopscape @oopsie-whats-this @zhaqifa @synnocence @changlix-mp4 + some besties who always inspire me wether they know it or not😭 @bangtantaegi @hanflix @bruh-changbin @hyunyin @yyxgin @hyunsluvv @unstableskzstan @violethhj @missskzbiased @cartierbin @dom--minnie

#kpopscape #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids #changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #zephyr

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

Text

the guy at the rock show

she/they reader x Spencer Reid

request for @boba-king-iroh ♥︎

summary: Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions, friends to lovers, idiots in love, PDA, secret relationships

word count: 5666

a/n: there will be a smutty part 2 eventually because I can't not do that

THE PLAYLIST THAT GOES WITH THEIR SETLIST IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN WHILE YOU READ

Read on Ao3 here!

Taking Garcia’s last name wasn’t something they had to think hard about, Penelope basically raised them; she was like a sister, a best friend and a mother, even a bit of a fairy godmother to Y/N.

They met when Y/N was 17, they were sitting at a support group for dead parents in D.C. Right beside the lovely, overly cheerful, always helpful, Penelope Garcia. At first, Y/N couldn’t stand her, wondering how a person like that could be running a group for mourning people, it made her sick.

It wasn’t until she heard Penelope’s story for the first time, knowing how similar it sounded to her own and how, actually, you can take your grief and turn it into something beautiful. After the meeting, they pulled Penelope aside and gave her a big hug and a thank you.

It was the start of a lovely friendship, one Y/N didn’t know they needed until they were smothered in all the love you could possibly imagine.

The age gap between them wasn’t too big, Penelope was 10 years older than them which meant she was always one step ahead of Y/N and full of advice. Be it fashion, boys, girls and everything in between. They bonded in a way that was unbreakable, they were each other's family.

Penelope even helped her get into med school before she eventually switched to forensic science. Taking on the FBI academy, unlike Penelope, and joining the bureau officially. Penelope was there for her every single step of the way, making her career possible. She loved her dearly and wanted Y/N to succeed more than anyone in the world.

Getting to introduce herself to people as Agent Y/N Garcia, not to be confused with technical analyst Garcia, was one of the best feelings in the world.

Not many people ever mistook them, however, for whatever Penelope was, Y/N was the exact opposite.

Y/N preferred all black everything, she didn’t enjoy partying or close contact or the in-your-face-ness of Penelope’s way of life, she loved her band and motorcycle and being alone. They were quote-unquote edgy, not just for effect, but because it was how they felt the most comfortable, it was who they were and they liked it that way.

They were possibly the best Forensic Specialist the FBI had, keeping her in DC for all the most important cases. Helping her avoid Penelope and the BAU team as much as possible. They were great people, she didn’t hate them at all, it was just a lot of energy that they didn’t have to give to 7 other people all day long.

Spencer was the only one she could tolerate. Rather, he was the one she wanted to spend the most time with, even more than Penelope. He understood Y/N in a way others didn’t.

He was also quiet, like them, he didn’t pick on them or call them mini Garcia, baby-baby girl, or infant as some of them started to call her more recently.

He called them Y/N, he talked to them about star trek whenever he was visiting Penny, and he respected their pronouns. Using both she and they interchangeably, when he spoke of them, unlike most people who only used she and her because it made more sense in their small brains.

However, she wasn’t the only one who got teased. Spencer did as well, almost more because he was around the BAU team constantly. She hated hearing them bully him, he didn’t even count it as bullying but it’s basically what it was sometimes.

They put him down, they didn’t clue him in on things, they called out his stims and didn’t let him finish his sentences, especially when it had to do with his hyper-fixations. He was the brightest light in the room and they just picked his brain till he wasn’t useful anymore, before trying to turn out the light. It made Y/N furious.

They got called Mr and misses genius when they were on a scene together, remembering the first time she ever had a case with the BAU which was also the first time she snapped at someone for being mean to Spencer.

Someone asked Spencer a serious question, to which he did his fucking job and answered. Giving as much detail as humanly possible, being the absolute genius he is and should be praised for, only to have Emily poke him in the cheek and say; “wow, he’s so life-like?”

“Well yeah, cause he’s a fucking human who deserves respect from the people who use his brain all day,” Y/N cursed under their breath from the crime scene, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Leaving the sweetest man on earth to find them later and give them a hug. Thanking them for all that they do, and appreciating what he has to offer. That’s when she realized she liked him, more than just the guy who sometimes sleeps on her couch because he’s friends with her sister.

It was difficult being surrounded by men unlike Spencer, specifically the older men in her field who didn’t understand anything outside of money, guns, and violence. The worst part of the job being the politics in the background; the hierarchy and ass-kissing all because she worked in the nation's capital.

They were sure it was probably better in a smaller facility, a local police station where no one knew her and they could finally have some peace and quiet.

But she’d miss Penelope, and Spencer too for that matter.

At first, they’d hide in their room when Penelope brought him over for movie nights or when he crashed on the couch after bringing her home drunk from the bar. In the early days, she worried that he was going to be her new boyfriend, taking all of Penelope’s free time and leaving Y/N with nothing.

But then he started coming over all the time just to hang out, sitting on the couch with nothing to say, being the third wheel while Y/N and Penelope spent time together. For the last 7 years.

Over that time they had many conversations alone, she learned that he was really smart, he was a lot younger than most of the team because he blew through high school by the time he was 13, and he was genuinely the sweetest man in the whole entire world.

One time, Penelope was running late when Spencer showed up at the door with chips and candy, ready to watch his weekly movie with his friend. Only she wasn’t going to make it home in time, and Y/N didn’t want him to have to go back to his apartment all alone.

“You can come in and watch it with me if you wanted to?” She offered, smiling softly. “What was it you picked for tonight?”

“It was Penelope’s night to choose, so you can pick instead if you want?” Spencer offered right back, walking in like he owned the place.

He was more confident now than he was in the beginning, but that was probably because he was 23 and she was 18.

Back then he’d barely look at her and sometimes he’d shake when they made eye contact or when she got drunk and hugged him goodbye after a long night with Penelope. He was like that with Penny in the early days of their friendship too, apparently, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.

He warmed up eventually, making her wait 7 years for him to do something about the growing feelings they both shared.

“You like Marvel movies right?” She bit the inside of her lip as she waited for his answer. Watching him walk around the kitchen for a bowl that he could put his snacks in.

“Yeah they’re great, I haven’t watched past the second Thor, I think the next one is another Captain America?” he’s all smiles as he joins her on the couch, closer than normal, as close as he’d sit with Penelope, but then again she was a cuddler and Y/N wasn’t.

Sometimes Y/N would come out of her room to find Spencer’s head on Penelope’s lap, resting on a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair to soothe his perfect mind after a long day. A few times she’s walked in on him crying or even sound asleep in her arms. They had a friendship Y/N admired, they were each other's person.

They comforted each other in the exact way they needed it; Penelope giving him the physical touch he craved and he would often compliment her. He was always telling her she was the best and buying her gifts to show his appreciation, calling her the most beautiful and smartest person he knew. He knew that she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance that she was still a good person and he made her believe it.

It made Y/N love him more seeing how much he cared for her sister.

“The winter soldier is the best!” She gushed, sitting close so they could share the chips as she waited for the movie to load up.

He was very quiet when he watched movies, smiling and laughing at the right parts but typically he paid so much attention it was like he was a statue. Y/N spent more time glancing at him than the actual movie.

“Is there something on my face?” Spencer asked, nervous when he noticed her glance at him for the 100th time that night.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panicked lightly, swallowing quickly before looking away.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fascinating,” she whispered because then she didn’t really say it, and it didn’t really count.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, leaving it at that and forcing his attention back on the movie.

After a while, Spencer started to get even closer. He put the bowl on the coffee table and sat back almost on top of her, reaching an arm behind the couch so that Y/N was right against his side. He had done it with Penelope before, confident in this little living room, almost forgetting it was Y/N beside him.

Y/N rested her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb over his jeans in a soft little circle as she pretended to watch the movie. More concerned with Spencer’s breathing and the feeling of his hand inching towards their shoulder than anything else.

Then they heard keys at the front door. Pulling away from each other quickly to curl up on opposite sides of the couch and pretend they weren’t just cuddling.

“Hey, you still came!” Penelope cheered, a little drunk from whatever she was doing before.

“I’d never miss a night with the Garcia’s,” Spencer smiled at her, looking calm and collected as ever while Y/N turned bright pink.

“Oh, I love Bucky! Oh my god let me go change and I’ll come watch too!”

That was just the first time they ended up cuddling, certainly not the last.

—

It wasn’t often that Penelope was too busy to spend time with Y/N, rather the contrary. Sometimes Y/N had to beg her to leave her be at certain events. Like when their band was playing at any of the local bars and Penny started inviting everyone she knew to come and watch her sister play.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Y/N loved her support.

When Y/N peaked her head out to see the crowd before a show, normally Penelope was sitting in the front with a drink and at least 4 friends, cheering and chanting their name, ready to rock out to their covers.

Tonight she didn’t see Penelope at all, she knew she wouldn’t, Penelope was in London visiting Emily with Derek for the second time in the past year, leaving no one to come to the monthly show Y/N’s band put on, or so she thought.

Spencer came all by himself.

He was sitting in the front, at a table with a bowl of pretzels and a ginger ale, not interested in the drinking or the socializing, just there to support Y/N. It made her feel giddy, like a schoolchild seeing their crush at recess.

It was so nice of him that it gave her butterflies, and normally that didn’t happen. They could go on and play a show in front of ten thousand people and feel nothing, but the second Spencer Reid was there to cheer them on, they were a mess.

“What song are we doing first again?” Y/N asked Evie, their lead singer and best friend outside of work.

“Who are they?”

Y/N was taken aback, “What?”

“You’ve never been nervous, who came to see you?” Evie clarified her question.

“No one, for fuck sake, I thought we left all the profilers at home tonight?” she sighed, shaking the nerves out of their body as they jumped up and down lightly.

They paced back and forth for a few minutes to wear down the nerves but only managing to make herself sweat to death and discard the leather jacket she always wore on stage. She walked in a circle aimlessly, remembering the setlist in their mind and how the spotlights typically made it so they couldn’t see the crowd anyway so it’s not like she could fuck up by making eye contact with him.

And it’s not like it was the first time he had seen her play, Spencer comes every month with Penelope, he liked a lot of the music they covered from when he was an emo teen in university. They’ve bonded over it before sharing albums and records back and forth, but she was still scared shitless at the prospect of him caring about her enough to come alone.

Especially when he hated being in situations like this in the first place.

It was their turn to go on, the manager of the bar gathering them and telling them to go on and so Y/N started walking towards the stage door, only to be pulled back harshly by Evie’s cold hands.

“Don’t forget your sticks, god who do you wanna fuck so bad it makes you this stupid?” She placed the drumsticks in Y/N’s hands, “get it together.”

“Sorry, it’s the guy in the sweater vest, front row,” they whispered in response, putting their head down and heading to the stage before she could tease them about it.

“The Forensic Lyricists are here once again folks!” The Manager introduced them to the crown, “get ready for them to dig up some classics!” Always the same dumb joke before every show.

Opening with crushcrushcrush by Paramore, thank god she remembered, it was an easy song to play as they warmed up and pushed the nerves away. They could play it in their sleep, with their eyes closed, and so that's what they did.

Eyes closed, mouthing the words as the adrenaline of the night took over the anxiety and made them go insane, like most nights. They didn’t need drinks or drugs to feel hyped at most shows, all she needed was a smile from penny and a good luck text from Spencer.

Playing by memory until she felt more confident and then getting into it. “They taped over your mouth, Scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies…”

“Crush, crush, crush, crush crush two, three, four!!” Y/N sung backup for each chorus, finally getting into it.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again.”

They tried their hardest to push the images of that night on the couch with Spencer out of their mind as they sang along, trying to harmonize and cover the backup for Evie as best as she could.

“Let’s be more than this now!”

She always took the bridge, as the drummer and the most passionate one, it only made sense. Y/N always got the crowd on their feet, roaring along as they jumped to the beat.

“Rock and roll, baby, Don't you know that we're all alone now? I need something to sing about. Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? I need something to sing about! Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? Give me something to sing about!”

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, let’s be more than, noOoo!”

She had a crush on Spencer fucking Reid and one now noticed as they tried their hardest to focus on the words when all that came to mind right now was his body heat and how good he smelled and how nice it was that he came to support them.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, Let’s be more than this, more than thiiiiiis, oooooooh, mmmmmmhmmm,” she sang the ending of the song along with Evie, their harmony sounding more perfect than any performance before.

Critics always said the performance is better when you mean the words you’re singing. With that, they accepted their crush on Doctor Spencer Reid after 7 long years of knowing him. They pushed through nerves so that they could go and see him after and do something about it, now that Penelope wasn’t home to tease her for it.

Leading right into Dear Maria, Count Me In. Their bass player, Kat taking the lead for her favourite song. Being an all ‘girl’ punk band was her idea, and now they all enjoyed taking turns singing their favourite songs in front of mostly strangers, once a month.

Every single song made her think of Spencer in some way as she remembered the rest of the set, it had 5 songs in total and each one included at least one reference to something she knew about Spencer.

It was hard to not think about him while he stood at the edge of the stage with everyone and bopped his head along to the beat, a smile growing on his face as he also noticed the little references to them in the songs.

The Rock Show by Blink182 was going to hit a little too close to home as she sang the words all but to him, making eye contact with him as he moved to the best spot to see them play, much like Penelope would do every time.

She didn’t realize how much this song actually represented her life before tonight, starting to sing her song alone while Spencer watched. Deciding on the spot to dedicate it to him in the most fucking obvious way possible, taking her chances because he must have come for a reason.

“Hanging out behind the club on the weekends. Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends, I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour, I remember that it's the first time that I saw him there!”

Spencer was smiling then, noticing the lyric change as they made eye contact, nodding along as he watched. Genuinely enjoying himself and the show, it was lovely to see. She couldn’t help but smile against the mic as she sang and played. Wondering how his face will change with the next verse she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Her bandmates turning to see her as they played their guitars, nodding in agreement at the lyric change, they knew what she was up to. It wasn’t the first time they used the stage to bring someone home with them.

“He's getting kicked out of school cause he's failing. I’m kinda nervous, cause I’m sure all his friends hate me! He’s the one, he'll always be there, I took his hand and I’ll make it I swear,

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!”

Spencer’s smile was priceless, it made them even more confident to sing all the words, wanting him with zero shame, it’s not like anyone who knew him would know about this.

“When we said we were gonna move to Vegas I remember the look your mother gave us 17 without a purpose or direction We don't owe anyone a fuckin’ explanation”

“Black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting, and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance, because he kept me waiting!”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town,”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” She had never been this passionate while playing this song in all the years they had played it together.

Her bandmates taking the lead singing, “with the guy at the rock show!”

“I’ll never forget you,” she sang in the middle of their chants, “I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget tonight, I’ll never forget tonight…”

She shot a wink at him before turning back in her seat to face the drum set the best way. The last two songs were Evie’s and Kat’s, she covered the backup vocals, making the occasional glance towards Spence as she thought of him.

Counting down the minutes till she could go see him.

Come a little closer by cage the elephant, an obvious title with lyrics that would clearly bring every memory of brushed hands against lower backs as they slipped past each other in crowded rooms, lingering as long as possible before they were gone again. Goodnight hugs when Penelope was already asleep and he could hold her a big longer and tighter, resting his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back and breathed him in. And that night on the couch, not to mention all the mornings she walked in on him sleeping peacefully, brushing the hair out of his face, softly, in the hopes he didn’t wake up.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see, Come on, come on, come on, Things aren't always what they seem to be… Do you understand the things you been seein' Come on, come on, come on! Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming… Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!”

And even when he did she had a coffee ready for him when he sat up and smiled, giving them a few hours alone before Penelope would wake up. Talking all morning about star trek and dr. Who, smacking his knee as he made jokes that genuinely made them laugh while trying to keep her voice down so they didn’t wake Penelope.

Not many people made her feel like that in her life.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!” Staring at him, enticing him to do it the next time they had the chance.

The intro to I’d Do Anything by simple plan was one of her favourites to play, smiling wide as she began to drum as her best friends sang the words.

Waiting for the chorus to sing the words at Spencer, really sending the message, he wasn’t dumb, not in the slightest, he would get it. He had to, she had already been so obvious there was no turning back now.

“This could be the one last chance to make you understand,”

Her arms were starting to hurt as she played along with the most energy she has had in years, playing like a teenager whose parents just died and she needed to hit something, once again. It was freeing, playing with what she could only imagine was love in her chest instead of anger. It’s how she was supposed to play.

"I’d do anything Just to hold you in my arms To try to make you laugh Cuz somehow I can’t put you in the past I’d do anything Just to fall asleep with you Will you remember me? Cuz I know I won’t forget you,"

Focusing on the drumming and ignoring the lyrics as her bandmates covered the lyrics, letting her go hog fucking wild on the drum set, almost kicking the chair out from under herself as they kept going. Joining for the chorus again before beating the shit out of her drum set.

I close my eyes And all I see is you I close my eyes I try to sleep I can't forget you Na na na And I'd do anything for you Na na na Naaaaaaa

“I’d do anything!” She closed her eyes as she pushes the words past her vocal cords, again and again, passionately playing the drums as her hair flew all over the place, worried she might break the sticks as she played.

“Cause I know I won't forget yoooou!” She plays the end of the song, snapping the left drumstick in half before throwing the right one into the crowd, right into Spencer’s hand, sending him a wink before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Sweaty as hell from playing the drums, they brushed their long black hair back behind their ears and in a low ponytail so it would fit under her motorcycle helmet on the way home. Putting their leather jacket back on and heading into the main bar to find Spencer.

“Hey,” he smiled as she walked towards him, the drumstick now resting in his pocket as he approached her.

“I can’t believe you came here all by yourself?” Y/N laughed slightly before pulling him into a thank-you hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, I’ve been coming for a year now, it’s always a great time,” his smile was perfect, his teeth were so white and straight and she wondered how they’d feel against her neck.

“It’s been that long?” She pretended that she didn’t notice, biting their lip as he ran the calculations in his mind.

He nodded with a soft, pressed-lipped smile, the Spencer classic. “Yep, it’s been exactly 14 months straight now.”

“I know you don’t like bars and loud noises and people you don’t know, or germs which makes this like a nightmare of yours I guess because of the close proximity of people and the germs being spread as everyone screams in a crowd,” she ranted before he was pulling her into another hug, “so this means a lot to me,” she finished her thought beside his ear for only him to hear.

“Anytime,” he whispered as he held her, his arm on her back and chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did you need a ride home?” She offered, thinking about how nice it would be for him to wrap his arms around their body as he sat behind her on Patsy, her motorcycle.

“Yeah, unless you wanted to go to your place and watch another movie? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Yeah, I’d love that, it’s been lonely while Penny’s gone,” a smile erupting on her face as she got the reference, “come on then.”

She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and dragging him backstage towards her locker. She had a space to keep her things for practice and other shows she did during the week, keeping an extra helmet and jacket in the locker for nights like this, however, normally it was a cute stranger. Not the man she’s been crushing on since she was a teenager.

“Oh, you brought Patsy,” Spencer’s face went white.

“Did you not want to ride her? Come on, everyone wants to ride her at least once,” Y/N teased him as she put the helmet in his free hand.

Her bandmates staring at her with proud smiles as she took the guy from the rock show home; the one in the sweater vest from the front, the one who was the most into the whole show, they both gave Y/N a wave and a smile as they slipped out the backstage door.

They walked out to the parking lot, still hand in hand with their helmets in the other. Stopping at her dark purple Suzuki GS650 GT, it was her most prized possession because it used to belong to her parents.

She put her hair in the right spot before putting the helmet on, sitting down and starting the engine, revving it for everyone in the lot to see as Spencer put his helmet on and threw a leg over the seat, nervous as ever.

He fit behind her perfectly, just enough room on the seat for his chest to press against her back as he placed his hands gingerly on her hips. It made her laugh.

“You’re going to want to hold on better than that pretty boy,” she teased him before revving the engine once more, kicking the kickstand up and speeding out of the parking lot.

Spencer gripped her tightly as she took off down the street, taking the longest route possible to her home. She didn’t hit a single red light for at least 5 blocks, zooming through traffic as Spencer squeezed the life out of her.

He felt amazing, his hands were so big as he fully wrapped around her, reaching around completely so his right hand was on her left hip and vice versa. He was so close she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

He was nervous, he flinched every time she turned and held on even tighter somehow.

So she did another lap of the block, around the park’s bend so she could lean the bike as far as possible as Spencer’s fingers dug into her hips fiercely. Breathing deep enough that she could hear him over the engine, but he wanted her to keep going. Not ready to let go of her yet, this is the closest they had ever been to each other.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, they bumped over the curb and his hand grazed Y/N’s boob, he pulled back so fast it was barely there, she just shook her head and laughed. Parking the bike and putting the kickstand back down.

Spencer let out a sigh, relaxing against her as he rested his chin on her shoulder again.

“Have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he laughed, his voice deep and dry from breathing with his mouth open, it was cute.

He got off first when his legs were finally able to work again, still vibrating from the rev of the engine he walked like Ariel when she got her legs. It was priceless, no one has reacted like that after getting a ride from them, not even Penelope.

She took her helmet off while still on the bike, shaking her hair out of the ponytail as provocatively as possible before getting off. Spencer’s jaw fell open once more as he watched, breathlessly, just as she expected.

Either he liked them before and never told them, or he was going to start now.

Either way, it excited Y/N to their core, taking his hand once more and leading him inside, this time they could be as close as they wanted to and no one was going to walk in on it. She stopped at her locked apartment door, looking at Spencer as softly as possible so he’d know her feelings were real.

“I know this will cause the teasing we already get to skyrocket, so if you wanted to keep it between us, I fully understand,” she whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

He was so sweet it made her heartache, never before had anyone made her feel like this; like she wasn’t in control of her body or mind, like an override in the system her brain and heart chose Spencer and there was no stopping them.

“I just told a whole bar of people that I’m in love with the guy at the rock show before taking you home in front of everyone,” she laughed, “I don’t care if people know, I just hate when they tease us, they belittle everything we do like we’re 17 forever, it’s not fun for me.”

“I hate it too,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly once more, “I’d like to keep you to myself for a while.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled in, pressing her lips against his as they both tried to repress their tightlipped smiles. Finally, finally kissing after all those years staring at each other's lips while they explained something, passionately as ever with the most attentive ears.

“Exactly, me too,” she smiled wider as she pulled back from him, unlocking the front door and pulling him inside for that movie he mentioned.

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