#To the point where I was always mentally bracing whenever i stood up from a chair

[mactiir]

The very funny thing about having finally recovered from depression after being depressed for literally decades is. Even though I'm no longer depressed. My kneejerk initial reaction when I get overwhelmed is like "fuck it time to die" and then, because I have spent a lot of time and intention and money on therapy, my IMMEDIATE next thought is "no you won't babe, eat some broccoli. Go for a run. Go see ur friends" and the moment I've done any combination of those things I'm like singing showtunes about how good life is. Like ok brain i understand you spent the last fifteen years in a critical state but maybe we can do the broccoli first next time. Vegetables before defaulting to Habitual Symptoms please.

[fruitcoops]

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “—as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

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

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 06 (knj)

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I Miss You-s

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together.

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly.  “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

———————————-

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit.

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses.

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence.

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing.

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

———————————-

Namjoon: I’m back!!! Namjoon: I miss you!!! Namjoon: Come over!!! Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!! Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later? Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get? Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you! Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it? Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER. Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell… Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour? Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie Y/N: I miss you too btw Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy.

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following.

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later.

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you.

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud.

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you.

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy.

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his.

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest.

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice.

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

——

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[spider-pxrkers]

flustered || peter parker x reader

summary: peter decides to flirt with the new avenger, y/n. he doesn’t expect her to flirt back and fluster him, making him realize he needs to get the upper hand.

request:  can you do a peter x flirty reader where at first peter is flirting buts the reader flirts back making him flustered?

a/n: the BIGGEST thank you to the loml @drusilla-as-in-blackthorn who helped and co-wrote this fic with me! she has some amazing fics, go check her out!

warnings: making out, sexual tones, swearing, sam and bucky being sam and bucky.

masterlist || co-writer ||  add yourself to my taglist!

i do not own any gifs used. all credits go to the original creator.

“Just be cool man. We practiced for hours, she’ll totally be into it.”

Ned’s voice echoed in Peter’s head like a tape stuck on loop as he entered the Avengers Compound. He puffed out his chest as he stepped into the elevator, trying to assert some sort of confidence within him to prepare himself for what he was about to do.

Steve had called for an Avengers training session today, which meant Peter got to see you again. He’d first met you during a robbery in Queens where he’d gotten tangled up. The thieves would’ve gotten away had you not shown up and ever since that day, he’d been in awe of you.

When he found out you were an Avenger too, he swore he felt his stomach do flips. His crush on you began shortly after meeting you those six months ago and is still very much there. For a while, Peter didn’t know what to do about it, but around two weeks ago Ned convinced the boy to go old school and try the one tactic ‘all the ladies loved’, and that was flirting.

He was skeptical at first, but he eventually figured he’d give it a try. And so Peter spent the whole of the night before googling pick-up lines and watching ‘flirting 101’ videos on YouTube in preparation for today. He was satisfied with his research and felt confident.

As the elevator doors opened, he took bold steps towards the rest of the team and waited for instructions from Steve. Not everyone had showed up, but you were there, leaning against a wall as your fingers mindlessly played with each other, your eyebrows furrowed as you listened to what Steve was saying. He felt his breath falter as he looked at you, you wore simple grey sweats and a ‘Stark Industries’ tank top. It was a simple outfit but for some reason Peter couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your eyes eventually wandered towards the boy, noticing his stare. You gave him a light wink, causing his cheeks to stain red, his eyes immediately looking away.

After the briefing, Steve announced today’s training would consist of sparring in pairs. Peter silently pleaded as he grouped everyone together and he felt his heart jump when Steve announced he would be paired with you.

Everyone made their way over to their assigned partners and he watched as you walked up to him. He mentally prepared himself, taking a deep breath as you approached. He was ready.

“H-hey, Y/N.”

Shit.

He stuttered.

Why did he have to stutter?

He glanced up at you to see if you noticed but all he saw was an amused look in your eyes, as if you could somehow tell he was beating himself up. “Hey, Parker.” You grinned at him. “You ready?”

“I-” He sighed. “Yeah.”

The two of you got into your own individual sparring stances.

He could do this. He was a man of science and he had studied for this. How hard could it be to flirt with you? He had watched other members of the team flirt with each other enough to know that he could play it off as a joke if you didn't respond well. That, or he could throw himself out the window of the forty-sixth floor, whatever would be easier. 

You threw a punch at him and he dodged it, then another, then a kick. You were on the offensive side which was fine with him, he could do defense in his sleep. It gave him time to think about what to say. He had to do this right, mostly because he knew you had at least four knives on you but he was also really worried about embarrassing himself. 

 "Hey Y/N,” He let out as he parried away from a kick, recalling one if the lines he'd memorized. “If you're enjoying yourself here, I know other ways we could use this much energy." He ducked under another one of your high kicks and punched at your stomach. 

You hadn't even faltered in your attack so he wasn't sure if you had even heard him. "Yeah, I do too Spidey, but unfortunately Steve frowns upon people fucking on the sparring mats." You eyed him, the corner of your lips tugging up at his expression.  He faltered at your words, not expecting such a direct comeback, and you took the opportunity to crouch down and took his ankles out. Suddenly he was looking up at your smug expression from the floor with, what he knew, was a violent blush on his own face. "What's wrong Parker? Cat got your tongue?" You asked tilting your head to the side, a look of feigned innocence coating you. You sauntered away back towards the starting point and raised your fists, obviously waiting for him to join you. 

You had both been sparring for about an hour and since he wasn't allowed to use his web shooters, you happened to be winning - in both the sparring and the verbal back and forth. He didn't understand how you were doing it, everything he said, you countered with something equally as clever. He was grasping at straws at this point. "Y-you sure you're not tired Y/N? Cause you've been running through my mind all day." 

He was throwing hits in your general direction with no real heat. You actually laughed at that one, no wonder. "Nah, don't worry about me Parker. I can go all night." He sighed as you landed him on his ass for the third time in a row, he wasn't going to concede but you weren’t giving him much of a choice.

"I'm not a genie but I can make all your dreams come through." He groaned as he tried to get back up.

 "Yeah and that’s if I rub you hard enough?" You lightly moved your leg to push him back on the mat. When he went to stand back up, Steve shouted that everyone could take a break. He sighed. 

You and he walked side by side to the cooler where the water bottles were kept. He went over to his gym bag and saw that he had three missed calls from Ned. He dialed back.

"Hey man how's it going? You ask her out yet?" Ned sounded excited on the other line, Peter smiled, he loved his best friend so much.

"Nah, buddy it's not working.” He sighed into the phone before bringing his bottle to his lips. “Everything I throw at her she hits me back with something better. I think I should just give up."

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, earlier I said to her 'Hey can I borrow a kiss, I promise to give it back?' and she pinned me to the mat and said I could have as many as I liked." Peter replied, looking at you from the corner of your eye talking to Steve.

 "Wait, okay, no, so she's flirting back with you? That's a good thing isn't it?" Ned asked.

Peter thought about it and how smug you looked whenever you managed to knock him down. "I don't know Ned, I think she was just doing it to get the upper hand in training."

 "Well are you still training now?"

 "No we have a break just now for a bit."

 "Well,” Peter could practically hear Ned smile through the phone. “I would say kick it up a notch, hit her with something and if she says something suggestive back then act on it, kiss her or whatever."

 Peter watched you move back to your own gym bag, watched you reach down to put your bottle in it. He thought about just grabbing you and kissing you, he wanted to, really, really badly but what if you stabbed him, or worse, laughed at him? 

 "I don't know Ned, I think I'm just going to give up." 

"Well okay man, but you have my opinion." Peter almost winced at the distaste in his friend’s voice.

"Yeah, yeah, bye bud, love you."

 "Love you too." 

Peter hung up the call, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do, he wasn't the kind of guy who could just make a move on someone, and he didn't even know if you'd ever actually thought of him that way.

You were walking towards him, looking beautiful as always, a ray of light in a dark world "I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art." He said in almost a whisper.

But you heard him, you had a playful look in your eye. "Well if you wanna pin me up against the wall then go ahead." 

Something came over him, he didn't even think about what he did next. He shot a web out and grabbed you as soon as the words left your lips, faster than the eye could see. He twirled so you ended up braced against the wall with Peter pinning you down, one hand holding yours above your head, the other holding your hip down.

His legs braced yours, with his super strength, you couldn't move even if you wanted to. "Well if you insist." He mumbled, his eyes darting between yours and your mouth that was currently parted in.. shock?

He was waiting on you kicking and screaming, or at least coming up with a witty comment or a joke. What he wasn't expecting was a fierce blush to rise up your cheeks and your eyes to avoid looking into his. "I, eh, I, uh well, h-h-hi." You were stuttering, he had actually managed to fluster you. The same girl who’d been spewing filthy lines back at him a few minutes ago looked so small under his lock now.

He opened his mouth to say something before hearing someone clear their throat behind him. Your eyes widened as you looked over Peter’s shoulder at Steve and the rest of the team staring at the two of you while Peter’s gaze still remained on you.

You pulled out of his grip, side stepping and moving away, quickly walking back to the training mats. Peter’s arms dropped to his sides, his eyes never leaving the wall he just had you flustered against.

You avoided Peter for the rest of the session, opting to spar with Natasha while he trained with Sam. You stood opposite Nat, dodging and throwing as many hits as you could as your mind wandered. Moments ago he was the one blushing after everything you’d said, you were sure you had the upper hand. But after he held you like that, something snapped. You could still feel his fingers brushing against your hip and you cursed yourself for getting so flustered. At first you thought his flirting was cute and just for fun, but something about the way his eyes looked into yours made you think differently. Was he taking advantage of you?

Or did he actually like you?

Training ended and you quickly gathered your things, darting out of the room. You made your way into the corridor to your room before hearing footsteps after you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

You silently cursed as you sped up your pace, walking into your room and turning to close the door before a foot appeared, halting it. You looked up to see Peter place a hand on the door as he tried to push it a bit more for him to enter. You placed your hand on the other side trying to close it. “Go away, Peter.”

“Look,” he pushed at the door harder but was met with you pushing back with equal force. “Listen I’m sorry if-” You pushed back again. “Sorry if I- would you stop?” He finally sent a stronger push this time, successfully opening the door and stepping in. You backed away from him, dropping your bag figuring he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

He shut the door behind him as he made his way over to you. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line back there, I just wanted to-”

“Why did you do it?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Wh-why did I do what?”

You scoffed at him. “I don’t know flirt with me? Pin me against the fucking wall in front of the team?” You shook your head at him. “What? You think it’s fun messing with people like that?”

Peter’s stance grew defensive. “You flirted back!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I thought we were fooling around! Not that you actually-” You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t admit your feelings to him, that you actually thought he liked you back.

He seemed notice your uneasiness however, walking closer to you. “Not that I what, Y/N?” His tone was softer now, almost warmer as he now stood directly in front of you. His brown eyes bore into yours as your eyes wandered around his face, looking for any sign of insincerity.

You shook your head as you moved to walk away from him. Instead, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you into him as he kissed you. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall by your bed with a thud. Your eyes widened before relaxing at his touch, your arms gripping his hair and neck. You felt his teeth nip your bottom lip before down to your jaw and eventually to your neck, where you let out a whimper as he began sucking on your skin, earning a smile against on your neck.

Your hands left the curls in his hair and trailed down his chest to dip under his shirt and pull it over him before discarding it to the floor. His lips reattached to your collarbone as his hands slipped down your hips to your legs, hoisting you up to wrap around him. He kissed back up your neck to your mouth where you moaned as his tongue met yours, moving you away from the wall and laying you on your bed. His forearm found its place by your head, holding him up as his other hand held you by the side. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he lay above you, the two of you caught in your make-out session as if you were the only two people in the world.

You finally pulled away after what seemed like forever, your chests connecting as you tried to catch your breath. A light smile found his face as his hands moved to cup your cheek, studying your shut eyes and now swollen lips and tangled hair while you lay under him.

“I was stupid,” he breathed out causing you to open your eyes and meet his. His fingers continued to tug at the corner of your mouth. “I thought these stupid pick-up lines would..” He trailed off as he gently shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Would finally make you like me back.”

You softly laughed at him, your fingers drumming against his bare chest. “Well it worked didn’t it?”

He chuckled as he leant down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Yeah, yeah it did.” He leaned back in to kiss you again.

“Hey Y/N, Nat wanted to know if you were- holy shit.”

The two of you turned to look at Sam at the door, his eyes widening at the sight before him before a grin covered his face. “Well I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He said smirking as he leant against the doorway. Peter’s cheeks turned red as he pushed off of you, reaching to get his shirt.

You got up and glared at the man, clearly annoyed. “What do you want Wilson?”

Sam smirked at you as he laughed. “Oo, she ain’t takin’ it too well. Hey, Bucky!” He called out.

“Oh my god.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Peter put his shirt back on, a light smile finding his face as he glanced between the two of you.

Sam kicked off the wall before winking at you, walking back down the corridor. You could still hear his voice as he walked off. “You owe me fifty bucks sergeant!”

Peter laughed as he reached his hand down to yours, pulling you up. “You alright?” He asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." You nodded your head as you smiled walking out of the room with him before clearing your throat. "After damage control,” you said gesturing with your head to the kitchen where Sam now gathered the entire team while your hands gently tugged at the waistband of his pants. “What do you say you and I pick up where we left off?” He froze as he stared at you, his eyes widening. You grinned at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek and pulling away, skipping down the hall and leaving a very very flustered Peter Parker behind you.

[thefinalcinderella]

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 2)

Glad that Kakeru matured but part of me wished he pushed Sakaki down the mountain

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. The Hakone Tozan Line is a mountain railway that goes up Mount Hakone

2. The Tokyo Big6 Baseball League is a baseball league that features 6 prominent Tokyo universities and the oldest in Japan

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In addition to regular training, they also started to do trial runs of the actual course. Since there was a lot of traffic on all the roads, test runs were prohibited, but that didn’t mean the day of the race would come without them having run it even once.

Early in the morning, when there were fewer cars, the members of Chikusei-sou got into the van and headed out, sometimes to the Otemachi area, other times to the Shonan coast. They tried to run the course with their own feet, little by little, in small chunks. They engraved into their minds and bodies the ups and downs of the road, and what sort of landmarks were at each kilometer mark.

Kiyose already seemed to have a rough idea of who would run which leg in his head.

When they were doing a trial run near Yokohama Station, Kiyose said, “Kakeru, do you want to run the second leg?”

The second leg, which went from Tsurumi to Totsuka through Yokohama, was also called ‘Leg 2 of Flowers’ and the aces from each school were often entered into it. Even if you ran a good time in the Hakone Ekiden, whether that was in the second leg or the other legs would make a difference in the backing you got from corporations.

“No,” Kakeru answered.

He wasn’t fixated on Leg 2 of Flowers. No matter which leg he got, he was going to run with all his strength as long as there was a road.

“I see,” Kiyose said, and then silently checked the course.

At the end of October, they went to do a trial run at Hakone. The mountains of Hakone were a single, winding, narrow road. Even though it was a little early for the leaves to have changed color, it was still congested at the weekend.

Kiyose parked the van in the parking lot in front of Hakone-Yumoto Station.

“Now, let’s all run to Lake Ashi,” he said.

“No—!” The twins protested without a moment’s delay.

“On that tough slope that’s hard to even walk up normally? You’re telling us to run twenty kilometers up that?”

“Isn’t it better for only the person who’s running this leg to do the trial run?”

The leg from the Odawara relay station to Lake Ashi, the finish line for the outward route, was called the fifth leg. Most of it consisted of climbing up the slopes of the mountains of Hakone. The sixth leg return trip on the next day was conversely nothing but downward slopes. They had to ascend and descend more than eight hundred meters of altitude all at once.

Each school entered uphill and downhill specialists for the fifth and sixth legs respectively. They were legs that didn’t just require running ability, but also mental and physical strength suited to mountains; the way of doing things was different from running on a flat road. The runners of the fifth and sixth legs needed the tenacity to face the endless uphill slopes, or the courage to go as fast as they could on sudden downward slopes without getting cold feet. Naturally, it put a lot of strain on the legs, so it was preferable to have a body that was not prone to injuries.

“Shindou-san is a shoo-in for the fifth leg,” Prince said. “Upward slopes are his specialty.”

“We came all the way here together and I’m the only one running?” Even Shindou’s expression clouded over, probably thinking about all the uphill climbs that lay ahead.

“Everyone’s climbing,” Kiyose asserted. “Don’t you want to see the place we’re heading for as we hand over the sash? You know, Lake Ashi? The most scenic spot near Tokyo?”

“We’ll see it on the day of the race, so I’m fine for now,” King said.

“I don’t think there will be many people who will be able to see it on the day.” Kakeru tilted his head. “We're short on people, so we not only have to run, but also attend to the runners at the relay stations.”

“Then we’ll see it on TV the year after next!” Jouji struggled in vain, but Kiyose had already stopped listening.

“Okay, get ready.”

The mountains of Hakone were more perilous than they imagined. The zigzagging upward slopes went on for what seemed like an eternity.

Kakeru resolutely ran up the mountain together with Kiyose and Shindou. Kiyose was giving Shindou detailed instructions on where to find the places that would tell him his distance and what to look out for when running. However, the others tried to get on the Hakone Tozan Line (1) whenever they saw a chance. Eventually, their speed was no different from walking.

“Maintain your pace,” Kiyose said as he let Shindou go ahead of him. He then looked back. “What’s wrong, you’re too slow!” Kakeru also stopped and waited for everyone to catch up. From the windows of the congested cars, people were watching the jersey-clad Kakeru and the others with great interest.

After much pestering, they finally managed to reach the place with the “highest point” sign.

The highest point of Route 1 in the Hakone mountains was 874 meters above sea level. At that point, the road became wider and the view opened up. The wind was much colder than in Tokyo, making the zebra grass fields ripple like the sea. Kakeru zipped up his jersey all the way to his neck.

A little way down from the highest point, Shindou was waiting for everyone to join him.

“Oh my, that is…” Musa frowned.

Shindou wasn’t the only one there—there were several people wearing TSU jerseys gathered there. They also seemed to be doing a trial run like Kansei. When Kakeru saw that Sakaki was among them, he thought, I don’t like this.

When Sakaki saw that all the members of Chikusei-sou were gathered, he approached them. Kiyose looked unconcerned, pretending not to recognize him, but Kakeru braced himself. Not only the twins and the second-floor residents, but even Nico-chan and Yuki, who usually maintained their mature demeanour, turned toward Sakaki menacingly.

Sakaki didn’t even seem to care that he wasn’t welcome. He stood in front of Kakeru and called out to him amicably.

“Hey, Kurahara. You were great in the qualifiers.”

Kakeru felt disappointed; it was the first time in a long while that Sakaki hadn’t been provocative. Not knowing how to respond, he mumbled, “Ah.”

“Are you doing a trial run today? Kansei’s been training pretty hard too, I see. Let’s both do our best in the race.”

Sakaki looked up at Kakeru, smiling. What’s wrong with him? Kakeru wondered suspiciously. It was weird, since he only had the gift of coming at him as soon as he saw him. However, he might have been more inclined to acknowledge Kansei now that they had advanced to the main race. Maybe he realized that Kakeru was still serious about running and that had melted away his ill feelings from high school. If so, he was glad.

“Yeah,” Kakeru nodded. Sakaki was a former teammate who he once ran with—it was tough for Kakeru to always treat him with a thorny attitude.

Sakaki looked meaningfully at the members of Chikusei-sou standing behind Kakeru.

“You guys really are training hard. We were talking about it just now; about what would we do if we were Kansei runners.”

“What do you mean by ‘what you would do’?”

Kakeru didn’t know what Sakaki was trying to say. It didn’t matter what team you were on, you had to keep practicing and running.

Sakaki told him without dropping his smile.

“No matter how much you train, Kansei only has ten people, right? If just one person gets a cold and has to drop out, then it’s all over. Even if you somehow get into the top ten and get a seed, the fourth years are going to graduate, right? What are you going to do next year?”

Kakeru was taken by surprise: he was aiming to run the Hakone Ekiden with the members of Chikusei-sou; he was seeking his own running; he was so focused on those things that he didn’t even think about the future.

He knew that Kiyose had rejected the people who wanted to join the team after the qualifiers. Even if they wanted to join, they didn’t know how serious they were; there was no guarantee that they would want to join again next spring. No matter how hard Kakeru and the others ran in the Hakone Ekiden, depending on the results, they might not be able to get any new members. If that happened, the ten-member Kansei University team would be finished after only one year.

The truth pointed out by Sakaki caused a quiet disturbance among the members of Chikusei-sou. The twins’ expressions obviously stiffened, and Shindou, Musa, and King looked at each other uneasily. Nico-chan and Yuki tried to silence Sakaki with a look, as though to say, “That’s none of your business.” Only Prince, who was squatting on the roadside from exhaustion, yawned like it had nothing to do with him.

Just as I thought, Sakaki hasn’t forgiven me. He only approached me with a smile in order to shake up the Chikusei-sou residents.

Kakeru was exceedingly hurt by that, but this was no time to hang his head. It would be bad if things went on like this—there was no way they could run a good race in the Hakone Ekiden if their minds were wavering. Kakeru glanced at Kiyose. Kiyose’s face was cold and expressionless, like he was wearing an iron mask. Only his eyes told Kakeru, “You do something about this.”

Sakaki is talking to Kansei with hidden meaning in his words because I’m here. Kakeru desperately tried to think of a way to argue with him. But before he could gather his thoughts, Sakaki said, “See ya,” and went back to his teammates.

Why do I have a hard time coming up with words? If it was just running, then cheetahs and ostriches can also run. Doesn’t this mean that I’m on the same level as an animal? Kakeru was dejected, and then he felt frustrated. He was angry with himself for letting Sakaki go after letting him say whatever he liked.

“He’s a diligent guy, in a certain sense.” Yuki watched Sakaki go, looking impressed.

“Just the fact that Kakeru didn’t try to hit him is progress. Good job,” Kiyose said, his face still an iron mask.

That’s true, Kakeru thought. In the past, he wouldn't have let Sakaki get away with such needless meddling, but he had been so preoccupied with searching for words of rebuttal that he had forgotten that he could have hit him. It would have been quicker if I had punched him. Kakeru felt a growing sense of frustration as well as bewilderment at the change within himself.

I was trying to choose a non-violent approach.

He felt uneasy, like he had been defanged, but he was also a little happy because he felt like he was getting closer to Rikudou’s Fujioka.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kiyose told everyone. “Come on, we’re almost at Lake Ashi. Let’s go.”

Mount Fuji, as seen from the front, was crowned with pure white snow. The members of Chikusei-sou ran down the last slope to Lake Ashi in one go.

“Even though he tells us not to worry about it, we will.”

Kakeru didn’t miss Jouta’s mutter and Jouji’s nod.

Because of Sakaki’s words, the rifts in Chikusei-sou seemed to have become more apparent.

After resting a short while near the lake, they were ready to take on the return mountain descent. Even Kakeru was surprised.

“Aren’t we going to stay overnight?” he asked.

Kiyose answered, “Where would we find that kind of money?” Prince slowly retreated to the bus stop for Hakone-Yumoto.

Kiyose laughed and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to run, Prince. Mountain descents tend to cause injuries, so I’ll only ask the ones who might run the sixth leg to run. The rest of you can take the bus back to Hakone-Yumoto first.”

Kiyose designated the twins and Yuki.

“So does that mean it’s okay if my legs get injured?” Yuki didn’t seem convinced.

“You and the twins rode the Hakone Tozan Line from Oohiradai Station to Kowakidani Station, didn’t you? Did you really think you could do that behind my back?” Kiyose said. “You should have enough strength remaining to descend the mountain. And Yuki, your center of gravity is low and stable, probably because of your kendo background.”

Yuki shut his mouth. The twins were still whispering to each other.

“We’re tired, and now we have to run back too.”

“There’s no point in training this much.”

“Twins, if you have any comments, I’m all ears.”

The twins shook their heads in unison.

Kiyose was going to run down the mountain with the twins and Yuki. Kakeru was worried about his injured right leg.

“I’ll go, Haiji-san. You shouldn’t force yourself.”

“I’ll be going slow, so I’ll be fine. Look, the bus is here.”

At his urging, Kakeru got on the bus.

The bus got stuck in traffic in the Hakone mountains, and Yuki and the twins, who were running down the mountain, caught up with it. Even though he said he would go slowly, Kiyose was following the three perfectly as they ran down the mountain, seemingly giving them instructions and warnings.

Kakeru and the others watched the scene from the bus windows as they passed each other repeatedly.

“It might have been faster if we had just run,” Nico-chan muttered impatiently as the bus crawled forward.

“I’m never getting off,” Prince declared from the seat he had taken up residence in. Musa and Shindou observed Yuki running with a long stride down the steep incline.

“I see, if you do not have flexible hip joints, you will not be good at mountain descents.”

“In order to soften the impact of landing, you need flexible leg muscles and strength in your hips and knees.”

King was unusually silent, watching the running twins with a serious expression on his face. I see, Kakeru thought.

What’s the point of participating in the Hakone Ekiden if there’s nothing to connect to next? Sakaki had said. But that was wrong—running should be a pure act for oneself.

It was true that “for oneself” might extend to “for the team” in a long-distance relay race, where everyone aimed for the finish line while handing over the sash to each other. However, that was as far as it went.

In the end, it was you and your teammates who were running. The fate of the team after that wasn’t something to be considered while running the Hakone Ekiden.

The first people that came up with the idea of running a relay race between Tokyo and Hakone and put it into action—they must have done so because they loved running. There was no guarantee what would happen to the team, or if the race would be held in the same way the next year. Even so, they probably couldn’t help but start the Hakone Ekiden, because they dreamed of running. And they believed that those who shared their passion for running would continue it after them.

That was why the Hakone Ekiden was always open to all universities in the Kanto region. That made it different from the similarly traditional Tokyo Big6 Baseball League (2); since the race was not limited to specific universities, no matter which new school you were a student at, any runner who wished to participate in Hakone was given equal opportunity.

This was probably what Sakaki wanted to say: “At a powerhouse school, I devote myself to running with other members who are good runners. That is how to do sports and compete. That is the meaning of running.”

Sakaki isn’t always wrong in what he says. But it’s not the same for me; it's somewhat different from what I’m looking for, what I hope to find through running.

That’s fine, Kakeru thought. Being different isn’t bad. But it was a little sad. They used to run on the same team, and they were still looking in the same direction when it came to running, but there was a definite disconnect between him and Sakaki; it was difficult to deal with the fact that the conflict that had grown between them over the years was finally becoming clear.

Kakeru waited with everyone in the Hakone-Yumoto parking lot for Kiyose and the others to finish running. When everyone climbed into the van and departed for Chikusei-sou, it was already evening.

Inside the van, Kakeru spoke.

“When I was a kid, I used to watch the Hakone Ekiden on TV every New Year’s Day.”

“Oh, me too.” Shindou was bewildered by Kakeru suddenly talking, but he calmly responded.

“I always thought, ‘I want to run like that someday, too. I want to be in the Hakone Ekiden, too.’ I’m happy that my dream came true.”

Kakeru earnestly searched for the words, in order to convey them to everyone in the van with him. “That’s why, I think it’s fine not to think about what will happen to Kansei next year. Even if Haiji-san and the others graduate and there are no longer ten people on the team, it doesn’t mean that's the end. Maybe there will be a kid somewhere who sees us on TV and thinks running is cool, just like how I thought that when I was a kid. I think that’s pretty great.”

“Is that…” Prince spoke up. “...A Kakeru-style response to what that TSU first-year said to you earlier?”

“Yes.”

“That kind of thing means nothing if you don’t say it to him directly right then and there.” Nico-chan rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“Kakeru is too slow with everything but running. You have to train yourself to use your brain a little more.” Yuki’s cheek twitched.

“I’m sorry,” Kakeru apologized.

“But Kakeru has come a long way in being able to properly express his opinions.”

“That is right.”

Shindou and Musa kindly backed him up.

“You guys are complimenting him like he’s in kindergarten,” Jouta teased, and Kakeru felt his cheeks turning hot with shame. He always missed the timing on what he should say, and he was irritated and embarrassed at himself for that.

“But, Kakeru.” King poked his head forward from the seat behind him. “Aren’t you just glossing over the problem?”

“He’s right.” Jouji crossed his arms next to Kakeru. “It doesn’t matter how many little kids get into running, since it doesn’t have anything to do with us. Isn’t that pointless?”

You have a point, Kakeru was about to nod, but then hurriedly shook his head. Some part of him screamed, “No!”

“I think I continued because it was beautiful,” Kakeru said. “Because the running form is beautiful. That’s why the people who watch the Hakone Ekiden think, How wonderful, and support it and try their best to run as well.”

For the sake of the team, for the children watching the Hakone Ekiden on TV—and more than anything, running beautifully and powerfully for yourself; that was all he focused on.

“Kakeru really is stoic,” Jouji let out a sigh that could have been either amazement or surrender.

Kiyose wordlessly turned the steering wheel and the car pulled onto Odawara-Atsugi Road as night fell.

Previous | Next

[queenofimagines]

Questions

Request: “can I get a jj x reader where y/n is being abused at home and jj finds out when he’s not suppose to. Y/n likes to hide it so when jj asks she denies. She comes up with lies and when jj tries to get the group involved they believe y/n’s lies. Jj tries to convince them but y:n breaks down and is denfensive at jj. But finally admit. Anyway I love ur work sm💜💜”

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. It’s kind of detailed in the beginning and even though it’s mostly just yelling and verbal fighting it can be triggering so please proceed with caution.

Waking up sore was definitely not how you planned your day to go. Every day since last Friday, it seemed, the aches in your body were getting worse and worse. The pain itself you could handle pretty easily, some pain killers in the morning and maybe a couple more throughout the day and you’d be set, what you really couldn’t stand was how you had come to be so sore.

It was an accident, honest to God. You went out with your friends and it had gotten late so you opted to have dinner with your friends. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, your father never cooked and your mother split when you were just a baby, so most nights you were left to fend for yourself. You had texted your father, letting him know that you would be out late but you had neglected to tell him you would be eating dinner with your friends on account of the fact that it just didn’t make sense to tell him, especially since he paid such little attention to you in the first place. So when you got home, stuffed with the free food that Kiara had convinced her parents to give you and the rest of the Pogues, to see your father sitting at the dinner table with what looked like a full meal for himself and half a sandwich for you, you knew that little good would come out of whatever you had just walked into.

“I got you a sandwich.” Was all he said. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He hadn’t gotten you a sandwich, you knew him better than that. No, what happened was that he had only eaten half of his sandwich for lunch and had given you the other half after he realized he hadn’t thought to buy you something from whatever restaurant he decided stop by on his way home.

“Thanks. I’ll take it for lunch tomorrow.” You responded. You began making your way up to your room when his voice stopped you.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No, I had dinner with my friends.” You braced yourself for the inevitable. You knew it was coming, the screaming, the insults. You had dealt with that on nearly a daily basis. On cue, your father slammed his fist into the table and began berating you about what an ungrateful child you were. About how he took care of you, clothed you, housed you, fed you. ‘Bullshit’ you wanted to say. None of what he said was true. You bought your own clothes with the money you made from the various odd jobs around town. You were the one who learned to cook so that you could scrape together just enough to get you through the day. And if it weren’t for your people skills and the money you were able to pull together, there wouldn’t even be a roof over your heads.

‘Whatever’ you thought. It didn’t matter, he would be done yelling soon and you could leave. But it didn't stop, not like it usually did. Today was just a bad day for him you guessed because it seemed like every move you made, every twitch and every glance, was somehow you showing him disrespect that he “didn’t deserve,” although you would have argued that he deserved much more than what you were giving him.

The panic really began to settle in when he began to move closer to you. Your father was prone to temper tantrums and you knew on days like this what would come next. You backed away the closer he came but soon found yourself trapped against the wall with nowhere to go. He reached you soon after, his hand enclosing around your throat and putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure on it before releasing you in order to hit you. First it was a slap to the face, then a punch to the gut that had you on the floor, then he began kicking you over and over and over again until you could see black spots in your vision and taste blood in your mouth.

‘Just a few more’ you kept telling yourself. How you wished you hadn’t. If you had stood up to him this time, if you had fought back, maybe you wouldn’t be laying in bed too sore to even sit up. If you had done something, anything, maybe the first thought in your head this morning wouldn’t have been about how to cover the bruises that were left on your skin.

As slowly as possible you sat up, gently moving your feet to the ground in order to stand and staying still for just a moment while your head stopped spinning. You definitely had a concussion, you concluded, but the only way to heal it would be with time. You slowly shuffled to your closet, grabbing a white long sleeved shirt and some capri shorts. Most of the bruises were along your torso, your limbs not bruising as easily with the exception of  your bicep up near your shoulder. After you changed you quickly made your way to the mirror to make sure everything was hidden, opening the blinds when you found the light in your room to be too dim, although opening the blinds didn’t do much since your window was facing another building. You used what little light you could get to do your makeup, using a color corrector under your foundation to hide the bruises that were forming along your jaw and neck.

“It’ll have to do.” You said to yourself after assessing your work, then making your way to the bathroom in order to grab some pain killers from the cabinet. You quickly located a bottle of pain killers you had gotten from CVS and popped the cap off only to find it empty.

“Fuck.” You groaned, a vague memory of you waking up in the middle of the night and downing the last two in the bottle hitting you. Sighing, you headed back to your room, grabbing your jacket before creeping downstairs and out your front door, relieved to see that your father’s truck was gone. Down the street you could see JJ already waiting for you. You did your best to adjust your pace so that the slight limp you had developed wouldn’t be so noticeable while also keeping up speed so as not to arouse any kind of suspicion.

“Hey babe, what’s with the shorts?” JJ asked. You didn’t usually where capri shorts, in fact, JJ was pretty sure that you hated them.

“Laundry day.” You answered, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the Chateau. You were thankful that JJ didn’t question it, instead changing the subject to whatever scheme the boys had cooked up the night before. You tried to listen to what he was saying but in all honestly, you just couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain you were in. For the entirety of your walk you told yourself that you could make it to the end of the day and after JJ dropped you off at your house like he always did, you could go to the store and get some kind of over the counter pain killer. But the pain was beginning to be too much. There was a Walgreens just ahead of you and you couldn’t resist the urge to go in and get anything to ease your pain.

“Hey JJ?” You asked, gently grabbing his attention.

“What’s up?” He answered.

“Can we go in for a second? I have some stuff I need to get.”

“Anything for you, my love.” JJ said, bowing towards you in an attempt to make you laugh, smiling when he pulled a light chuckle out of you. His happiness quickly turned into concern when he saw you wince and hold your stomach.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just um... period cramps.” You answered before ducking into the building. JJ almost believed you, key word almost. He knew your cramps got so bad sometimes that you couldn’t even get out of bed, but it was for that exact reason that he knew you were lying. JJ had your cycle memorized just so he could always be prepared for when your period started; the week before he would always stock up on snacks and make sure that the heating pad he kept at his place was always fully charged. JJ’s first thought was that he had forgotten, panic slowly rising in his throat, but he also had a gut feeling that that wasn’t the case. JJ checked his phone to settle his confusion and sure enough, your period wasn’t due to start for at least another couple of weeks. JJ followed you in, upset that you would rather lie to him than tell him something was wrong.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” JJ asked.

“Pain killers,” you answered.

“Why?”

“Like I said, cramps.” You had just turned down the first aid isle when you realized JJ was staring at you.

“Something wrong?” You asked.

“You’re not on your period.” You froze, mentally facepalming at how dumb of an excuse you had come up with. Of course JJ would have caught your lie, he had been so amazing whenever your period came around, always being prepared and willing to give you whatever you needed. You were hoping that JJ would have blamed his own carelessness on the matter, but what you didn’t know was that when it came to you, JJ always made a point to be deliberate with his actions.

You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. Should you keep with the lie? Maybe say your period came early? Or should you come clean? But coming clean would mean telling JJ what really happened and you knew he would blame himself for it, even if he had nothing to do with it. Luckily, or maybe not so, you didn’t get the chance to respond.

“You’re in pain,” JJ took a step towards you. You almost took a step back but resisted the urge to last minute, memories of last Friday suddenly bombarding you. JJ slowly grabbed your hands.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked. You were surprised, having expected him to demand to know why you were hurt.

“My legs.” JJ raised an eyebrow at you, knowing that you were still hiding something.

“A-and my shoulders.” You didn’t dare look at him, afraid that you would break down if you did, instead deciding to fiddle with a piece of paper you had left in the pocket of your shorts.

“There’s more, isn’t there” It was more of a statement than a question but the way JJ said it, in an impossibly soft voice that he just knew you couldn’t say no to, made the thought of telling him all the places you were bruised seem less daunting.

“My torso kind of hurts too, and my jaw. Um, also my neck.” You whispered.

“Why?” Such a simple question, you thought, a simple inquiry that would be sure to break you both. You didn’t answer, eyes trained on the floor while you thought about how stupid it was for you to have believed that being honest with JJ about your pain was a good idea. You had kept it a secret for so long and in one moment of weakness you had jeopardized it. If you hadn’t been so weak, you thought, then maybe you could have avoided all this and just gone to the Chateau instead of being here practically breaking right in front of JJ.

JJ watched you chew your lip, seeing the conflict in your eyes and chastising himself for putting you in such a state of distress, but the pain he felt in that moment couldn’t compare to the pain he felt in the next. JJ saw the purplish bruises on your jaw and neck that were partially being hidden by your hair, the makeup you had used to cover it evidently being inadequate. It was enough to go unnoticed if people weren’t paying any particular attention but it wasn’t blended well in some places, making it easy to see the slight difference in pigment between the bruised and unbruised skin. By now JJ was shaking, gently holding your face so that you would look at him.

“Who did this to you?” His thumbs gently caressing your jaw. “Was it your dad?”

“No,” You slightly jerked away from his touch. “He would never do that JJ. I’m not being abused or anything I’m just clumsy that’s all. You know me, I never pay attention to where I’m going!” You laughed, hoping that it would be enough to make JJ believe you. He didn’t, not even for a second.

“Y/N if he’s hurting you, you have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you said, beginning to get defensive. “My dad isn’t hurting me JJ so stop with all the questions. And stop thinking that just because you’re my boyfriend means that I owe it to you to tell you.”

You were being harsh, you knew that, but you needed JJ to leave the subject alone and the only way you knew how was to get him to be angry at you. You hated it when JJ was mad at you but desperate times call for desperate measures.

JJ did let the subject slide on account of the fact that he knew if he kept talking he would definitely say something he would regret. He wasn’t going to let it go completely, though. If you weren’t going to tell him the truth then surely if he got the Pogues to intervene too, if he could somehow convince you that they were all on your side, then maybe you’d feel safer talking about it. What he didn’t understand is why you would be willing to protect someone who was causing you so much pain. He knew about your strained relationship with your father, that in and of itself already drained you so much, but your father physically hurting you was a whole other problem. Still, given how much you hated your father he didn’t know why you were protecting him, but that wasn’t what you were doing. In all honestly, you were ashamed that this was happening in the first place. You felt like you were a pretty independent and strong willed person and knowing that one man could render you so powerless made you feel weak. On top of that you felt like you were drained enough as it is, adding the fuss that you would have to deal with when your friends found out was just something that you didn’t think you had the energy to handle.

You quickly found some pain killers and paid, making your way towards the Chateau faster than you ever had. The walk with JJ had turned awkward and you felt like if you were with him alone for a second longer you would explode, so when you had crossed paths with Kiara and Pope you were glad to have someone else to break the tension. From then on it was smooth sailing for you, despite the fact that you spent almost the whole time avoiding JJ. You figured you were being subtle enough but the way JJ was practically glaring at you tipped the boys off.

“Hey, is something going on with you and Y/N?” Pope asked.

“Yeah it seems like she’s been avoiding you. Did you guys get into a fight or something?” John B added.

“I think Y/N is being abused.” JJ answered, not even bothering to sugar coat it.

“What?” Both Pope and John B spoke at the same time, eyes wide.

“She has bruises on her neck and jaw and earlier, before we came he, we stopped by Walgreens so she could get some pain meds. She lied and said she was on her period but it isn’t due for another couple of weeks.”

“Well, that could be anything JJ...” John B said, but it seemed like he was trying to convince himself as much as JJ.

“It’s not. I think I would know. We have to do something.”

“No, what we need is proof,” Pope spoke up. “Even if abuse seems like the likely reason for her bruises there's still a chance that it is something else. One of us could ask her.”

“Sure Pope, instead of helping my girlfriend, who just so happens to be one of your best friends, we should definitely just outright ask her if she’s being abused. She’ll be really eager to answer that honestly.”

“I meant that one of us should ask how she got the bruise. And unless you have a better idea I don’t see what else we could do.” JJ fell silent at that. He knew Pope was right, so the boys joined you, Sarah, and Kiara. The boys exchanged looks, trying to decide who would ask. JJ was already out of the question but they didn’t know if the question would sound more innocent coming from John B or Pope.

“Hey Y/N, what happened to your jaw?” Pope finally asked.

“Yeah, I thought your neck looked a little off too. You okay?

“Oh, yeah! You guys remember a couple days ago when I fell off the boat? Turns out I hit my chin pretty hard and it caused this ugly ass bruise to pop up. I tried to cover it but you know how crappy the lighting in my room is.” You laughed. Now that you had calmed down, lying came easy, and having had a couple of hours to prepare your answer made it all the more easier. Your friends seemed pretty convinced by your answer and you were satisfied that you had avoided the subject.

“What about your legs then?” JJ asked, pushing you. “And your torso, hm? What about those?”

“Uh, well we did do a lot of swimming-”

“No more than we usually do. Plus you’re on the swim team, you don’t get sore from swimming.”

“What are you implying JJ?”

“I’m implying that you’re not telling us the truth.” By now both you and JJ were on your feet and breathing heavily. You were angry and panicked that JJ was pushing you so far. JJ was desperate to help you and even if he was going about it the wrong way he didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay guys just calm down,” Sarah said, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you to sit, John B soon doing the same with JJ.

“Y/N is JJ right?” Kiara asked. You picked up the pillow that had fallen to the floor when you stood up, picking at a loose thread at one of the corners and refusing to answer. It had been a tough day already and right now you felt like you would break at any moment, but you were exhausted. Exhausted from fighting with JJ and from having to lie to your friends and completely defeated by the fact that this had become your life.

“Y-Yes,” You admitted, finally letting the tears fall. “He just- he just get’s so mad sometimes and he can’t control it and I get it because there’s no one else to take it b-but I don’t know what to do because I can’t leave, I have no where else to go.”

You were sobbing at this point, holding onto the pillow in your lap like a life line. JJ was the first to react, practically jumping over the coffee table to hold you. The rest of the Pogues soon followed, hugging you while their hearts broke more and more with each sob you emitted.

“You’re wrong,” John B spoke after a few moments. “You'll always have a place here.”

“I can’t just leave.” You responded, taking deep breathes to calm down.

“I know it’s hard,” JJ stated. “But we’ll be here for you okay? We’ll call Child Protective Services and sort this all out so you never have to see him again.”

“B-but what if they take me away? I don’t even know of any other family I have.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Kiara said, gently squeezing your hand. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah. And anyway we could always bribe the officer.” Sarah agreed, trying to lighten the mood which caused you all to laugh.

“It’s settled then! You’ll stay here with me and JJ and tomorrow morning we’ll all go to your house together to grab your stuff, okay?” John be asked. You thought it over. This, this was your light at the end of the tunnel. An end to the constant fear you felt. You’d thought of a moment like this a million times over but each time you always figured that you’d have to refuse it. But now that you were here, faced with the decision, you knew you’d be an idiot to say no. A smile slowly spread across your face.

“Okay.”

[wendimydarling]

No Mercy

Title: No Mercy

Summary: Henry’s not in charge for once.

Pairing: Henry x Anonymous Girlfriend

Word Count: 2352

Warnings: 18+, bondage, foreplay, sex.

A/N: So I’m away from my computer and I couldn’t write anything new, cause formatting is damn difficult on a phone. @littlefreya @sciapod @thiccgeralt I’ll get to our imagine at some point, but for now enjoy this one that I wrote years ago. Also, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’ve got a bit of a tickle kink cause it’s a great non-painful power play. Sorry, not sorry. 😁 Constructive criticism is always welcome, so long as it’s done nicely! Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry was in trouble and he knew it. His girlfriend had been unusually handsy at the restaurant, stroking him secretly under the table while she chatted with his friends, and openly groping him in the car while they drove home. She was completely silent though and he wasn’t quite sure what he was in for; the way she was acting meant she was clearly in the mood, and she had him so riled up he was willing to say yes to anything she had in mind.

No sooner had he pulled into the garage than she was unbuckling her seat belt and climbing on top of him, hiking up her skirt so that she could straddle his legs. Her hands were everywhere and she was grinding down hard, making his head swim. She kissed him roughly, then moved to his neck when he broke off for air. “Maybe... maybe we should take this upstairs,” Henry panted, doing his best to sound seductive while secretly hoping she’d agree to go inside, which would give him a chance to collect himself.

She pulled back and stared at him, her expression unreadable. In his peripherals Henry saw her fingers wrap slowly around the car door handle. She opened it and wordlessly slipped off his lap and out the door, turning to look back at him with a sultry glance as she walked into the house. Henry felt yet another familiar twitch below and sent a silent thanks upward for this vixen he got to call his, taking a deep breath before scrambling to undo his seatbelt and follow her inside.

He found her standing in the bedroom, stripped down to her underwear (though she’d left her heels on). Henry gave a throaty groan of approval at her attire, removing his shirt and stepping towards her and the bed. She placed her hand flat on his chest to stop him and shook her head briefly, looking over at the corner. He turned to look and discovered she had brought one of the kitchen chairs up with her. Henry looked back at her with suspicion, eyebrow raised.

At his hesitation, Henry’s girlfriend kissed him again and pushed him backwards towards the chair, undoing the button and zipper on his pants at the same time. She stepped away and motioned for him to continue which he obeyed quickly, removing the rest of his clothes while she disappeared into the bathroom. Her silence was driving him crazy, but in a very good way. She knew him well.

Henry sat down in the chair, hissing a little as the cold wood met his bare flesh. He heard his girlfriend come back into the room but before he could turn to look at her something soft was slipped over his eyes. Holy shit, he thought to himself, feeling himself grow even harder at the idea of not being able to see. Once the blindfold was secured, he felt open-mouthed kisses trail from over the blindfold on his temple down to the pulse point in his neck. His girlfriend’s hands slid down his arms at the same time, pulling them behind the chair. “Bloody hell, woman,” he breathed, fighting his arousal as she looped what felt like rope around his arms, cinching them tight from his wrists to his elbows. “What are you planning to do to me?”

Henry got no response, which he expected. His back and shoulders were flush against the back of the chair while his arms were wrapped around it, and while he was slouching he couldn’t really bend forward, so his hips slipped a little towards the front of the seat. He felt a hand slide down his chest to his right leg, where another rope was used to anchor it to the chair, once at the knee and once at the ankle. The same was repeated on the other side, just as tightly and peppered with kisses. Henry suddenly felt very vulnerable. He tried testing the restraints and found that he could move very little. He made a mental note to later ask his girlfriend how she got so good at tying people up. She sat sideways on his lap now and kissed him again, but every time he tried to deepen it she would pull away. The woman had complete control over him, and he loved it. She stood up and walked away, and he was left to wait.

Adrenaline and excitement coursed through Henry as he waited for what was next. He didn’t know how much time had passed since his girlfriend had kissed him but it was far too much time for his taste, and he had no idea if she was even still in the room. “You still there, Fireball?” He called out in a husky tone, using her nickname in the hope for a reply. He heard a soft moan, and turned his head toward the bed. Another breathy moan came from that direction, and then a gasp. Henry focused and heard the squelch of wet flesh being repeatedly exposed. Realization struck him: she was masturbating. “You bloody minx,” he exclaimed, arousal dripping from his voice as he listened to her get herself off at the sight of him tied up. He couldn’t touch her, and why that made him more excited he had no idea, he only knew it did. A throaty gasp left his girlfriend as her release hit her, then once again there was silence. Henry waited impatiently.

After a few more agonizing minutes, just when he began to assume that she had left him alone, Henry felt something soft brush against his erection. He cried out in surprise, then again in pleasure as whatever it was did it a second time. Slowly at first, the soft object would repeat its motion. Down, then up, then down and up again. It alternated sides, swiped through the slit of his head and down towards his base, always catching him off guard and never revealing any kind of pattern.

All at once, he realized what she had done. “Oh god,” he breathed, connecting the dots in his head. He’d been had. The whole night so far had been a ruse to get him here, where he couldn’t escape. The silence, the urgent kisses, grabbing at him under the table at dinner, even jumping him in the car. She’d used everything he liked and she’d played him like a fiddle. See, Henry’s girlfriend loved to tease, but whenever she would tease him like this during sex he would always get too frustrated and end up flipping her over, having his way with her before she was finished playing. This way, she had Henry completely at her mercy. The touch hadn’t stopped, and he growled in frustration as he tried to pull back from it, held still by the rope.

The object (he assumed a feather) disappeared, and Henry was left alone again, panting, his erection pulsing in anger at the lack of friction. He tried to steel himself mentally, knowing that it was only going to get worse and that this time he couldn’t take control and distract his girlfriend. He wasn’t wrong.

Fingertips replaced the feather and with the lightest touch traced the outline the feather had left. Henry grunted and threw his head back, trying to ignore the sensations. Every time his girlfriend stroked down she would get closer and closer to his balls. His breath would hitch and his body would try in vain to get up from the chair, which he knew was only egging her on. At random intervals, she would grab his shaft firmly and pump a couple of times, only to release him and go back to the slow, light torture of her fingertips. “Christ, love, that’s not fair!” Henry barked at her, head coming back up, chin against his chest. Once she finally reached his base, she went back to the top and started the process all over again. He knew she was grinning, and he hated and loved it at the same time.

Four more times she started over. Henry was panting heavily by the time she was done, every now and then pleading with her or throwing a curse her way. His balls were aching to be touched and he was leaking, which didn’t help his cause. Every time he did his girlfriend would lick it up, making him gasp in pleasure. She never kept her tongue on him long though, only enough to leave him wanting more.

After the fifth time Henry felt his girlfriend’s fingers travel finally, FINALLY to his balls, but she didn’t move them, she just held them against his skin. Anytime he’d push to gain more pressure, she’d remove her fingertips and he would be left with nothing. Henry writhed in agony, so turned on by her power that he could barely think. “Fuck, you bitch, would you just fucking do something already?” He growled at her, trying to make her mad enough to give him something, anything. Her hands left his body and he heard her heels clack against the floor in the hallway, leaving him alone.

Henry cursed himself, and tested his bonds again. They held firm. I really am going to have to ask her how to do that, he thought again, smirking at his predicament. He knew it didn’t show but he was actually enjoying being pushed to his limits, which surprised him. He might have to give her more opportunities to do this. He heard his girlfriend back in the hallway and braced himself, wondering what she was going to do.

His girlfriend came back into the room and Henry felt her fingers tilt his chin up. He was expecting to be punished for calling her a bitch, so it surprised him when she kissed him fully, giving his upper lip a small lick when she pulled away. Before he could come up with an apology, something sticky was placed across his mouth, and he was quite literally rendered speechless. Outwardly he grunted his protest, but inwardly he knew that he deserved it.

What he did not think he deserved, however, were the fingers that were suddenly drilling themselves into his rib cage. Henry squirmed hard, trying to get away, but he was stuck and his girlfriend was mad. Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he laughed into his gag. That was not what I had in mind! The tickling only lasted a minute or two to remind him who was in charge, but it felt like longer before she stopped. A gentle slap on the side of his face when she was done let him know he was forgiven and brought him immediately back to his arousal. He whimpered repeatedly through the gag, breath coming out sharply through his nose. He was ready to come, needed it. His girlfriend straddled his lap and he groaned as she tilted his erection up, still not providing any relief. She ran her fingers through his hair and placed her mouth on his temple again, next to his ear. A quiet ‘shhh’ escaped her lips; the first sound she’d made all night.

The tape was removed slowly from his mouth and Henry gave her a mumbled apology mixed with incoherent pleading, to which another ‘shhh’ was issued. His girlfriend hugged his head to her chest and soft kisses were planted on his hair as soothing hands squeezed up and down his shoulders, her favorite muscles of his. He felt the skin of her breast brush against his cheek and he realized she was naked; she must have removed the rest of her clothes while she had masturbated.

His girlfriend shifted in his lap and Henry uttered a loud sigh of relief as his throbbing erection was completely enveloped in her warmth. No mercy was shown or needed as she began to ride him in earnest; she was clearly as desperate as he. Her breaths became more shallow and she bit his shoulder in an effort to keep quiet as she came close to the edge. Henry urged her to come, murmuring dirty words into her ear as she rocked back and forth on his lap. He felt her walls tighten around him as she sat up and the blindfold was ripped off his head, allowing him to watch her come apart.

Her eyes were open and staring into his as she came, still riding him hard. Henry was close, but something was missing. His girlfriend snaked a hand behind her and pressed her fingers into his balls, and at the same time leaned forward and whispered in his ear three words that did him in every time she used them: “You’re my favorite.” Head bent into her shoulder, watching himself slide in and out of her center, Henry finally came, a reverent and lengthy “fuuuuuuck” escaping his lips. His girlfriend slowed down her thrusts and brought her hands around to cradle each side of his neck, resting her forehead on his.

They sat there a moment, chests heaving as they came down from their high. His girlfriend started kissing him again and Henry tugged his arms, whining a little in pain. She took the hint, reaching around the chair and pulling just one string while still kissing him. The ropes fell away and Henry pulled back to look at her incredulously, thinking it would have been so easy for him to escape the whole time. She laughed at his expression, her cheeky grin telling him that she clearly thought she had won.

Finally able to use his hands he grabbed her neck and fervently resumed their kiss. She reached down to release his legs and once he was free he picked up a length of rope and grabbed her ass, standing up and carrying her to the bed. Dropping her unceremoniously onto the mattress, he held up the rope and smirked down at her. “Just so you know,” he warned her, “payback’s a bitch.” She simply smiled at him and held her hands out in surrender, taunting him with her words. “Do your worst.”

[dinosaurtsukki]

❀ promises | “a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want” feat. iwaizumi hajime + pacific rim AU

⇢ day 10 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: you knew the risks that came with the job when you agreed to co-pilot a jaeger with iwaizumi, even more so when you two grew close. every time you get sent out on a mission, you wonder if both of you would be coming back

⇢ content warnings: character death, suicide attack

⇢ a/n: so, back in the day (probs 2015) i was reading this notoriously long and famous hq!! pacific rim AU and it was amazing so i wanted to write my own (it’s nowhere near the quality of that fic tho but i tried ;-;)

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

⇢ word count: 2.5k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

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nothing else in the world could compare to the feeling of co-piloting a jaeger. you always remember the first time you saw one up close: all metal and weapons as far as the eye could see, being dropped into the ocean to fight off a kaiju. it looked invincible, it looked like humankind’s problems all solved. 

co-piloting one was absolutely nerve-wracking. just the idea of being able to control a large weapon of that size with your mind and have it imitate your body movements sent your head spinning. even now, as you made it move across the ocean towards where the kaiju was, you still felt that unease.

“hey, don’t act like this is the first time you’re doing this,” iwaizumi’s voice and thoughts interrupted you. he flashed you a cocky grin, shaking you out of your thoughts.

of course, you weren’t doing it alone. a jaeger could never be piloted alone, both in the physical and mental sense. “sorry, just had something on my mind,” you chuckled nervously.

“yeah, well the sooner you get that out of your mind, the sooner we’ll be able to beat this thing and still be able to get something to drink later,” iwaizumi, your co-pilot and lover winked at you.

“is alcohol always on your mind, iwaizumi?” you teased.

“you know for a fact it isn’t, l/n,” he grinned. you smiled, squaring your shoulders in-sync with iwaizumi as your jaeger stood before the prowling category 3 kaiju. 

“let’s do this thing.” 

...

“what did you say, cadet?” 

“i said, i can beat you in five moves,” you retorted, jutting your chin up as you stared straight into the eyes of iwaizumi hajime, one of the youngest jaeger pilots who also happened to be your trainer.

“i’d like to see you try,”  he narrowed his eyes at you before jerking his head in the direction of the training mat in the center used for sparring matches. you strode to your end of the mat and got into fighting stance. it wasn’t that you didn’t respect iwaizumi, quite the opposite actually, but you were eager to prove yourself, eager to get recruited to become a co-pilot. 

and besides, as someone who had to fight every single day when your town was destroyed, you were confident in your skills.

but so was iwaizumi, who had been a cadet when he was just a teenager and a pilot when he hit eighteen. he had fought people and kaijus alike and expected that he would make you eat your words seconds into your sparring match. 

what neither of you expected was that you would be trading blows, without ever landing a single hit, for quite some time. it came to a point that not only the cadets but other officers nearby came to watch the match unfold. suddenly, both of you were stopped by the captain and head of the base.

while you felt a sudden rush of adrenaline at his approving gaze, iwaizumi felt as if a weight was dropped in his stomach. there was a chance that you two were drift-compatible.

...

“let’s finish him off!” iwaizumi exclaimed. 

“you read my mind!” you grinned as the two of you raised your jaeger’s plasma cannon and aimed it at the badly wounded kaiju. there was a loud hum and the crackle of electricity as the plasma cannon charged before firing a shot. you watched with a smile on your face as the kaiju was blown to pieces across the ocean.

“well, that’s that then,” iwaizumi said. 

“good work you two,” your captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “as expected of miyagi base’s best duo.” 

“we have to come up with a flashier name,” you told iwaizumi as you two maneuvered your jaeger back to base. “i mean, that just sounds like a mouthful and not nearly as fear-striking.” 

“oh yeah?” iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “how about the miyagi demons?” 

“why demons? aren’t we supposed to be helping people?” 

“yeah but from the kaiju’s perspective, we’re the demons.” 

“i don’t know if they’re capable of having that opinion,” you snorted. 

“hmm, miyagi menaces!” iwaizumi said proudly, causing you to laugh. 

“you are such a dork, you know that?” 

“shut up, i don’t see you coming up with cool names,” he pouted. 

“we have the rest of the night to come up with all the cool names,” you smiled, visibly relaxing now that the entire ordeal was over. even though it was an honorable job, being a jaeger pilot meant that whenever you and iwaizumi went out on a mission, there was a chance that you wouldn’t come back. you had lost too many friends and acquaintances along the way from kaiju attacks and each time you and iwaizumi made it home only felt like you had prolonged your death date. if it wasn’t today, it was going to be on another day.

‘but not today,’ you smiled to yourself as you and iwaizumi headed back to base. only, you were suddenly interrupted by your captain’s voice on the radio.

“l/n, iwaizumi! our signals have picked up something new!” he exclaimed. you felt iwaizumi’s panic first hand as you two quickly turned around to find the spot where you had just killed the category 3 kaiju turn red, meaning another was about to surface. 

“a double attack?!” you verified, hoping you were wrong.

“i-it wasn’t in the prediction,” your captain replied. “some kind of anomaly or the enemy just getting smarter.”

“either way, we still have to kill it, right?” iwaizumi growled, hefting the plasma cannon up. 

“i don’t feel good about this...” you murmured as you two got into stance.

“neither do i,” iwaizumi said through gritted teeth. “but i’ll make sure you get back home in one piece. i promise.” 

“alright,” you nodded, smiling a tight-lipped smile at him before turning your attention to the kaiju that rose to the surface. this one was much bigger than the one you had just faced before, probably twice the size of the jaeger you were in. and to make matters worse, you could tell that it’s entire body was covered with armor plating and it had a long tail with spikes on the end.

with your thoughts connected to iwaizumi’s, you could feel even his unease wash over you like a wave. who knew if either of you were going to make it?

...

it was the drifting that you were worried about. almost anybody could train themselves physically in preparation to become a jaeger pilot, but very few had what it takes to expose themselves mentally with someone else. it was easier for people who were siblings or lovers or best friends, but you and iwaizumi didn’t know each other prior to your first meeting. even after you two were forced to share a living space in the base so that you two would get closer.

but you and iwaizumi were guarded with your own demons that you were reluctant to expose to the other. the first time you tried drifting, neither of you were willing to open your minds and ended up with both of you getting kicked out of the drift. 

which was why you and iwaizumi finally decided to sit down inside your shared bedroom to have a little sharing session. you couldn’t help but laugh when he suggested it but both of you knew just how much you needed this. it was either that, or pass on the role of co-piloting to other cadets.

“okay, i guess i’ll be the one to start,” you exhaled, gripping the sheets under you for comfort as you told iwaizumi how you ended up in the co-piloting program. you lived in a town near the coast and when the kaiju started showing up, it was one of the first ever places that was hit. nobody was prepared, especially not you. 

“i’m sorry,” iwaizumi whispered as you recounted how you were running through the city, pushing past the crowds, only to turn around to see that your parents who were supposed to be right behind you were lying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“all the more reason to fight them, you know? so less people end up like me,” you shrugged. “you... don’t have to open up again if you don’t want to.” after all, iwaizumi and his former co-pilot, oikawa tooru, had been quite famous back in the day for being young, amazing jaeger pilots. that is, until they faced a category five kaiju with a broken plasma cannon. 

you still couldn’t forget the sight of the kaiju punching a hole through the jaeger, through the pilot’s chamber. you could only imagine how it felt like for iwaizumi.

“it was... intense,” he exhaled, his brow furrowing. “one minute he was just there and the next, the drift connection had completely disappeared but i could just feel him leave. luckily i was able to activate the escape pod.”

“we’ll fight them,” you said, resting your hand over his. “together. we’ll fight as many of them as we can.” 

for the first time in a while, you and iwaizumi had come to a mutual understanding. iwaizumi had a legitimate reason for not wanting to be in the pilots’ chamber again, so you wanted to make it worth it.

...

you were living right in your worst nightmare. 

fighting category five kaijus was nearly impossible without some form of back-up. the miyagi base sent in their jets to fire bombs at the kaiju but with its armor plating, it had little to no effect. your only hope was aiming at the kaiju’s underbelly, but even that was difficult.

your own jaeger was beat up, thanks to the kaiju’s tail and from sustaining a flurry of hits. “brace yourself!” iwaizumi yelled as the kaiju closed its jaws around your jaeger’s right arm and using it to haul you up and toss you to the side. the force of the impact was absolutely jarring and it felt as if your entire head was scrambled.

“y/n! are you alright?” you heard iwaizumi call out to you. the side of his head was bleeding after you were both thrown against the back of the pilot’s chamber. luckily, you were both still strapped into your suits and still very much in the drift. you both got to your feet to find the kaiju still prowling towards you, taking its sweet time.

“how are we going to beat this thing?” your voice shook, knowing that iwaizumi could feel your hopelessness. your mind through the memories of earlier that day: you and iwaizumi eating cereal while watching TV, watering the little succulent you kept by the window, eating and joking around with some of your friends at the base, iwaizumi giving you a quick kiss before you both suited up. was this going to be your last memories?

“hey. we’ll be alright,” iwaizumi said aloud, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. you wondered how he could even smile like that in this situation. “i promised, didn’t i?” 

you nodded slowly. as a jaeger pilot, you were always prepared to die when you went out on new missions. and if that meant going down fighting, hopefully taking the kaiju down with you, with the man you loved, you were prepared to do just that.

...

it wasn’t that rare for couples to end up as jaeger co-pilots, or for co-pilots to end up as couples. but that only made it all the more tragic whenever one or both of them died during a mission. you knew fellow co-pilots who had postponed their weddings only for them to die, or for one co-pilot to be driven mad after losing their partner. it was enough to deter you from having feelings for iwaizumi, but not completely.

because of your drift connection, it didn’t take long for either of you to discover your feelings for each other. after a particularly hard mission where both of you almost died, iwaizumi ended up confessing to you in the changing room after you both departed your jaeger. 

and seeing that it was impossible for you to be apart from each other, both of you gave in.

“do you think we would have met if it weren’t for the kaijus and the jaeger program?” you asked one night while the two of you were in bed, your head laying on his chest. 

“i like to think that we do,” iwaizumi chuckled, running his hand through your hair. “maybe we’d meet each other in high school or university or something.” 

“what would you have wanted to be?” 

“a sports trainer,” iwaizumi said softly. “i was actually into playing sports back then. how about you?” 

“i wanted to own a flower shop,” you chuckled.

“you? a flower shop?” 

“don’t laugh!” you smacked his arm lightly. 

“you’d make a wonderful florist,” your boyfriend laughed and kiss you on the forehead. “maybe i’d run into you while buying flowers for my mom on mother’s day.” 

“and i’d definitely remember the large, muscular guy who entered my shop,” you giggled. “do you think it’s possible? for things to go back to normal? for us to actually survive this whole thing?”

“i don’t know,” iwaizumi replied honestly. “but i know what i want: a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want.” 

...

“i’m sorry, y/n.” 

that was the last thing you could feel him think before iwaizumi kicked you out of the drift, sending you reeling. the kaiju was approaching and fast. 

“hajime! what are you doing?!” you panicked, turning to look at him but his brow was furrowed in concentration as he manipulated a few buttons on his controller. he was piloting the jaeger by himself. before you could say anything else or force yourself back into the drift, you felt yourself being pulled back by the security straps attached to your suit. you recognized the sensation back from when you were still in co-pilot training practicing the emergency protocols for evacuation.

evacuation.

with sudden horror, you realized what iwaizumi was planning, what he planned all along, to do.

“captain? i’ve initiated emergency evacuation for l/n,” you heard him speak into the radio. “please, please make sure to get to their escape pod.”

“understood, iwaizumi,” your captain’s voice crackled over the speakers. “we can’t thank you enough for your bravery and sacrifice.” 

“no! hajime don’t! let me stay! let me do this with you,” you screamed even as you were loaded into the escape pod. 

“sorry, y/n,” you finally heard him speak. it was as if time had slowed down as he turned to look at you once more. you didn’t want to believe that this was going to be the last time you would see iwaizumi’s face ever again. you would never wake up next to him in bed or eat cereal from the same bowl or dream about a future that you knew now you could never have.

“i... i don’t want to go back if you’re not coming with me,” you said.

“i know it’s going to be hard but, try to live well, alright?” iwaizumi said and pressed the button, fully ejecting your pod out of the jaeger before you could say anything else. your screams filled the escape pod as you hammered against it uselessly, even as the kaiju descended on the jaeger with its lone pilot before iwaizumi pressed the self-destruct button.

you’ve always hated funerals, having gone to far too many of them. especially when the deceased co-pilot’s partner was there to receive any medals of honor in their place. that was the first thing you thought of as the people in the base helped you out of your escape pod, offering messages of sympathy for your loss. because of his sacrifice, iwaizumi was surely going to be granted quite a lot of medals with you receiving them in his place. as if they could be enough to make up for the space in your bed and the house by the sea that would forever stay empty. 

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event taglist: @himikadafangirl @swoona-rintarou @l-dokisaki-l @laure-chan @aonenthusiast @ah-kaashi @just-a-gay-bean @linyu-sees-you @alto-march-of-death @newfriendjen @shrimpypenis @tenyafacesquish @mkkhaikyuu @animeismysleepparalysisdemon​

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[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 6

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I miss you-s

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

---

“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together. 

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly.  “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

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

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit. 

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses. 

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence. 

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing. 

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

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

Namjoon: I’m back!!!

Namjoon: I miss you!!!

Namjoon: Come over!!!

Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!!

Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later?

Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get?

Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you!

Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making

Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it?

Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER.

Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell...

Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour?

Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw

Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie

Y/N: I miss you too btw

Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy. 

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following. 

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later. 

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him. 

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you. 

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud. 

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him. 

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you. 

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy. 

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his. 

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest. 

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice. 

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

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[skylarmoon71]

TMNT 2014/2016 Raphael x Reader-(Short Story) Chapter 2

"You should have just let me take him, he was right there! "

"Come on Raph, we're just supposed to help not make it worse. Besides, we stopped the train. They won't be bringing in any more weapons." Raph grumbled, sheathing both his blades. Apparently they were discussing what took place in their most recent case. Raph lived to defy Leo, it wasn't anything new.

"Whatever, next time I'm going out on my own." he shoved Leo as he brushed passed. Leo grabbed his shoulder, halting him. 

"You're not going out on your own, we do this together Raph!" You really hated it whenever they fought. Despite that, you never said anything when it got like this. Even Mikey and Donnie knew better. Raph pushed Leo back roughly, and the blue bandana turtle hit a shelf close by. Lucky for him he had his shell to take the brunt of the hit. Unlucky for you, you didn't. You were on the other side of the cupboard, and when it started to fall you panicked.

Raph saw it falling, yelling out for you. You braced your hands, closing your eyes. You heard a few items clattering to the floor at the sides of you, but when you realized you were unharmed you looked up. Donnie had his arms spread, holding up the cupboard. He lifted it in the other direction, bracing it back against its previous spot. "Are you alright?" Leo was at your side in an instant, and you sighed relieved. You smiled at Donnie who was already checking your body for injuries.

"T-Thank you Donnie you might have just saved my life." He gave a sheepish smile rubbing his neck.

"I-It was nothing. "

Now that the danger was over, Leo glared at his brother. He stomped in his direction enraged. "What the hell are you doing! You could have really hurt (Y/N)!" You stepped over placing a hand on Leo's arm to calm him down.

"I-It's fine Leo. I-It was an accident. H-He didn't mean to." Raph would never intentionally harm you.

"Yeah Leo, listen to your girlfriend. " That made you a little annoyed. Because he was already angry, you just let it slide. Leo was still sizing Raph up, and you knew you wouldn't be able to handle it if they got into another fist fight because of you. Leo glanced down at the unease in your eyes. Reluctantly, his shoulders slumped. He stepped down, and Raph just wore an arrogant smirk.

"Just like you to fold. Sometimes I wonder why you're the leader." Leo didn't reply, taking your hand and guiding you out the room. You wanted to stay there and try to get both brothers to work out the problem, but you didn't have it in you to pull away from Leo's hold, especially since he looked so worried when he thought you would get buried under the cupboard. So as he pulled you along, you sent a longing look in Raph's direction. He looked up at the last second, right before you went around the corner. That split second, you could have sworn you saw a hint of hurt in his eyes.

~~~

"Are they still fighting?" you were chatting with Donnie on your cell phone. It was pretty late, and you knew you wouldn't be able to sneak out, so you were in your room, laying down on your bed.

"Yeah, don't worry too much. Master Splinter will make sure they don't go at each other's throats." you smiled.

"That's good to hear. Well I'll check in tomorrow. Spring break is about to begin so I'll get to spend more time with you guys."

"That's-"

"Hey is that (Y/N)? Dude what's up!!" you laugh hearing Mikey in the background.

"Hey Mikey, I was just telling Donnie about the upcoming break. We may finally get to settle that score in Call of Duty."

"I'm so gonna kick your butt!" You couldn't wait.

"I'll be looking forward to it." you spoke. After giving your goodbyes, you hung up the phone, flopping back on the mattress. Somehow you'd become a little better at interacting. Before meeting the turtles you pretty much avoid interacting with people.

For good reason to. But with them, it was never a challenge. Leo was like an older brother. Mikey the goofy childish younger brother. Donnie was like a middle child. Smart, techy and a little bit of a dork. Raph was obviously the rebel. Even with all their differences, it was weird that you found comfort trusting them rather than your own species.

Maybe it was because the turtles lived by a code. They were natural born protectors, saviors. At heart, their main purpose in life was helping. And they did. They helped you, not just physically. But also mentally, emotionally. If you could offer them the world, you would do it without a second thought.

You flinched when you heard a small knock on the glass on your window. You looked over at the curtains. Maybe it was a bat? You stepped out of bed, moving to check the glass. When you shifted the curtain, you were shocked at who was hanging unto your window sill.

"R-Raph!" you slapped your hand against your mouth, because that came out much louder than intended. Opening the window, you ushered him inside quickly. As soon as you did it you ran over, turning the latch on your door.

He was lucky your room was located in the back of the house, covered by trees in your yard. It would be pretty awkward if you had to explain him to your neighbors.

Now that you were no longer in autopilot, you stood by the door. Raph was still by your window. He rolled his shoulders after climbing through the small space. And now he was just standing there, clearly unsure of what to do, or say.

"This is awkward.." you had absolutely no idea why he came, and the fact that neither of you had ever had an actual conversation alone didn't help your nerves.

"This is stupid." He groused. You kept playing with your fingers. "W-Why are you....is something wrong back home with Leo?" at the mention of his brother's name his face turned sour. "It's always about him isn't it. Leo. I came all the way here to apologize to you and that's all you have to say!"

Unconsciously you took a step back. You never did like it when he yelled. Especially since this was the first time it was directed at you. Not just that, but yelling right now wasn't the best thing since your parents were only a couple doors down. He must have realized, because he turned his head. "Forget about it. I don't even know why I came." You could feel him fuming from all the way over there. And as much as you wanted to say something, you'd already irritated him, you didn't want to say anything to make it worse. Although at this point just about anything would.

"I'm sorry." you whispered. Raph stopped in his spot, looking over his shoulder.

"I-I know I barely ever talk to you. And I always make things awkward when it's us two. I don't mean too. A-And I didn't mean to get you in trouble with Leo the other day. I-It's my fault that you guys are fighting right now." In a way it was.

Raph sighed defeatedly. He came to apologize, and instead he scared you into doing what he should have done the moment he stepped in, instead of picking a fight.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one that always messes everything up."

"That's not true." When you said that he turned to you fully. You burrowed your hands behind your back, finally feeling a little confident now that he wasn't as pissed.

"You do have a bad temper, and you suck at taking orders, but you don't mess things up." Where those words came from, you had no clue. But you were liking your sudden boldness.

"Your brothers depend on you. You guys have each other, no matter how much you think you mess up, they'll always be there for you. You just need to be better at working through your issues rather than just walking away from them."

Raph was just standing there listening, he seemed to be actually taking in you words. When he sent you a small grin your cheeks darkened.

"Here I thought you were just a little shrimp. You're a lot braver than you look. " you giggled softly. "I mean, compared to you guys I really am." you joked. Raph was smiling at you, actually smiling. He looked so damn sexy when he smiled. "No! Stop it stupid brain! I'm actually having a conversation with him, don't' ruin it!" Right now really wasn't the best time to fall for his charms.

"Thanks (Y/N)." He was thanking you. Could your night get any better.

"(Y/N) sweety are you alright?" you stiffened, and Raph looked side to side panicking.

"Aw shit!" he mouthed. You shook your hands advising him not to make a sound or move.

" I thought I heard yelling."

"I-I'm fine Mom. It was j-just a nightmare. I didn't want to wake you or dad. I-I'm sorry."

"Nightmares, do you want to talk about it." you could tell she was offering to stay awake longer to help you.

"I'm really fine mom, I promise. It was nothing. I'm going to go back to sleep. "

"Are you sure? I can make you a cup of tea or something. "

"There's no need. I promise I'm fine. Just go back to sleep." She lingered at the door for a while, before she relented. "Alright, but if you change your mind let me know."

"I will. I love you mom."

"Oh sweetheart I love you too. Try and get some rest okay. "

"Yeah I will." You waited in your spot until you heard her footsteps retreating. When you heard her bedroom door close, you sighed, placing a hand to your chest.

"That was close." you whispered. Raph was smirking at you, and it did weird things to your chest.

"W-What?"

"Nothing." It didn't look like nothing.

 "Come on tell me why you're wearing that smug little woah!" you had planned to march over, but you slipped on something on your floor. Raph was quicker, he caught you almost instantly. You must have stopped breathing for at least a few seconds, because you just stayed there in his arms. Your eyes connected, and that's when you let out a shallow breath. Raph was just as taken as you. He didn't move a muscle, just held you upright. You palm flattened against his chest, eyes never straying from his hypnotic gaze. With him slightly bent, all you had to do was lean up a few inches and you could close that space.

"Raph.." the sound of his name broke the spell. He straightened your body, pulling away. He cleared his throat, taking a couple steps back. "I should get going I need to-" he knocked into your desk behind on his way to leave and you winced at the sound that echoed. Raph froze, listening to make sure he didn't give your mother another reason to come back. When there wasn't any sound he relaxed, moving to your window.

"Be careful." you said gesturing to his head as he almost ran right into the glass. He just gave a force laugh, raising the window glass. You smiled. He was sort of cute like this. All fidgety. He ducked, creeping out the way he came in. "I'll come by tomorrow." you stated.

"Yeah..." he responded, but it didn't sound like he was really listening. He looked distracted.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

He nodded, inching up the wall.

"Yeah tomorrow." And just like that, he was flipping to the top of your roof. You bent your head, watching as he took off into the night.

You were looking forward to tomorrow, that was for sure.

[honsoolie]

don’t rush | 01

pairing: Yoongi/reader 

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, eventual smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings (for this chapter only): y/n has awful stage fright/performance anxiety, alcohol is mentioned, swearing, sexual references

words: 6.6k 

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi's face isn't screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you'd have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: I’ve been reading fanfics for years and finally bit the bullet! I’m currently working on the other chapters and will have them up soon... and I promise there will be significantly more action in them ;) This is also crossposted to ao3, so you can check it out there too! 

You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Even the back of his head is enticing as you stare at him in the middle of your Beethoven lecture. You struggle to focus to take notes on Beethoven’s genius deviations from sonata form, as Yoongi leans back and stretches his arms above his head. You wish you could see him from the front, see what his expression looks like when he’s not telling you to get the fuck out of his practice room. Instead, you settle for watching him bounce his leg up and down, now hunched over his notes.

Fuck, it’s been a long time since you’ve felt that uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. The butterflies start to bubble up every time you see him, even in passing. You’ve never been able to escape his presence on campus, seeing him everywhere but never actually speaking.

Any time you’ve seen him on campus, he’s always with Taehyung - Taehyung being the other violinist in the tiny music department. You see them often on campus, walking together between the cafe and the music building. You see Yoongi when he’s alone in the cafe, nursing a coffee and brooding over some orchestral score, or in passing when you’re run-walking between classes to reserve your favorite practice room before anyone else can. And since both of you are music majors in the same year, you’ve shared a majority of the music classes that you’ve taken up until now.

You wonder if he can see the longing written all over your face when you see him in classes, but he never spares you more than a second glance. If that. The most likely scenario is that he doesn’t know you even exist.

Whenever you see him though, all you can do is bite down the nervousness and replay the last (and also first) time that you spoke to him. The hard look in his eye, the way that he slammed the door in your face.

The first time that you talked to Min Yoongi, you could barely look him in the eye. And it’s not because he’s maddeningly gorgeous and even more intimidating. Well, a little bit.

The lack of eye contact had more to do with the fact the headache that had been plaguing you was starting to threaten your ability to stand up straight. Even through your blurry vision and the disapproving pout on his face, he was still so. Fucking. Hot. How was any of this fair?

The exchange you shared with Yoongi was just another incident in the long string of unfortunate mishappenings that one Tuesday morning.

That morning, you weren’t sure if it was your alarm or your throbbing head that woke you up. If the alarm was bothering your roommate, she didn’t stir from her side of the room. You had tried to will yourself awake, making out patterns in the ceiling tile, vision blurring.

You remembered weighing your options, like you did every single morning. You could drag your ass out of bed, and pick up some coffee before rushing to reserve your favorite practice room in the music building. You could take the time to run through some drills for your lesson this week, a little extra practice to escape the scrutiny of your violin teacher.

Or, you could go back to sleep for another couple of hours and just tell your teacher that you’re sick. You groan, knowing what the answer is supposed to be.

The air was cold when you pushed the covers off your body. Even in the dead middle of a long and difficult winter, your university was still too cheap to enable the central heating in your building. You didn’t need to look outside to know that it had been snowing, your room awash in a white glow that you were all too familiar with. Your roommate was still sound asleep, and you had felt the fleeting spark of jealousy at how peaceful she had looked. You still tiptoed around the room trying to get dressed quickly. You just knew you didn’t get enough sleep last night when it started to feel like you were fighting gravity just trying to put pants on. Everything moved in slow motion, shifting like sand.

When you finally started walking, no, trudging , to the music building, you were disappointed to learn that you were right and that it had been snowing. The wind bit at the soft skin underneath your collar, seeping through the fabric of your jeans. The arrival of your every breath was announced by a plume of white vapor. You fucking hate the cold.

Call it intuition, but you could already tell from the start that today wasn’t going to be a good day. The coffee that you had ordered did nothing to soothe the cold that was beginning to ache from the inside out. It left a waxy taste in your mouth when you knocked back some ibuprofen. As you continued the trek to the music building, coffee kept dribbling out from under the lid and into the sleeve of your jacket. Several times you slipped on the melting ice, only catching yourself at the last moment.

Your hands were numb through and through by the time you got inside, struggling to open the locker that kept your violin safe. Shivering and clutching your violin case in your stiff hands, you made your way inside the hall. The inside of the music building of your university was hardly any refuge compared to the conditions outside. You braced yourself, knowing the ordeal you were inevitably going to go through tuning your violin.

Your violin was a fickle mistress. Be it cold, warm, humid, too humid, not humid enough, or even just bad vibes, your violin would go out of tune. The winter weather had not been easy on your instrument, going sharp at even the drop of a hat.

At that early in the morning, you had (foolishly) hoped your favorite practice room was unoccupied. Well, it’s everyone’s favorite practice room. It’s the only one that isn’t completely gross inside, but it’s really just the better of two evils. It has the newest piano of all the other ones in the building, and also the only room without a draft in it, so you won’t go completely flat after twenty minutes of practice.

With your case in one hand and a coffee in the other, there wasn’t a whole lot of grip you can use to open the door to the practice room. You settled for forcing the crook of your elbow into the doorknob and leveraging your body weight against the door. It took a couple tries, when but you got it open, it wasn’t the empty silence you were expecting.

In the dim light of the doorway, all you saw was the shadow of someone hunched over the piano pressed up against the wall, facing away from you. He was so immersed in his playing that he hadn’t noticed you at first. His sheet music was laid out before him in a neat row, and even from your distance you saw the meticulous markings over the music. It looked like a scene out of a movie, the way it took over his whole body, the way he moved over the keys. You saw it in the way that he moved with the phrases, dipping and swelling. He looked like he had always been there, and he’ll always be there.

The figure stopped playing, back still turned to you. He turned around, looking you in the eye.

Of course. Of all the music students to interrupt, it just had to be Yoongi. Fuck, you hate walking in on people practicing. It’s already like competing in the Hunger Games trying to find a suitable practice room. And half the time the rooms stink of dampness or dining hall food or the tears of the hopeless, so imagine adding salt to the wound by interrupting a practice session.

Your genius first reaction was to jump out of the doorway and let the door slam shut, startled.

Even now, sitting two rows behind him in lecture, weeks later, you still cringe at what you had done. You grip your pen a little tighter, trying to keep up with the rest of the class. But you still can’t help yourself from reliving the memory.

~

You had stood outside, frozen in shame.

Before you had the chance to flee, one Min Yoongi appeared at the door. His face was twisted not into a grimace, but it definitely wasn’t a smile, either.

“What do you want,” He huffed out, “I was in the middle of something.”

“Sorry, I-I thought this room was empty.” The words get caught in your throat. You mentally kicked yourself for starting to blush.

“It’s not.” He gestured at his backpack on the ground, various method books littered at his feet. You two stared back at each other, at an impasse.

You remember his tired sigh. “Do you need anything else?” You couldn’t read anything in his expression, taken aback at how curt he had been.

“Uh, no.” You tightened your grip on the handle of your case, and felt the warmth of the coffee seeping into your palm. At that point, there wasn’t a lot left tethering you right now. The heartbeat in your head was beginning to become tangible.

“Okay then. I’m sure there are other practice rooms you can use.” He shut the door, returning to whatever he was practicing, leaving you in stunned silence. If Yoongi was playing right now, you couldn’t hear it.

So there you were, standing in the hall of the music building in the early morning, two hours left until your lesson. Coffee was still dripping down your sleeve, Min Yoongi just slammed a door in your face, and your head feels like it’s going to fucking explode.

Damn you, you had thought to yourself, cursing him through the door. Damn you and your arrogance, and your trendy wire-rimmed glasses, and your long delicate fingers. You stormed off (more like stumbled, given the state of your head) to the adjacent practice room, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Okay, maybe you were being a little overdramatic. He didn’t exactly slam the door in your face. And you didn’t knock. If you didn’t know any better, you would have assumed that he was just being cold. But you’ve been the person in the practice room and you’ve never been thrilled to find that someone had walked in on you after fighting tooth and nail for a practice room.

In a way, it was also about power. You walked in on him in a compromised position, like he was in a state of undress. Well, he kind of was. In your own experience you hate to have anyone hear what you haven’t chosen to show, anything you haven’t perfected to show the outside world. You hate being walked in on, but maybe it’s just you.

Maybe Yoongi was pissed that you had heard him working on a piece that he was struggling with. Maybe he hated your guts. Maybe he was so overwhelmed by your powerful sexual presence that he had no choice but to close the door in your face. You would ponder his intentions more, but class was over. You’d have to wait until Friday to see him again.

~

Johann Sebastian Bach is not a bad person. He’s never done you wrong. In fact, you have never even met him. He’s dead, for god’s sake.

But it really does feel something like vengeance from beyond the grave when it’s two a.m. in the morning, slogging through his music and feeling your shoulder burn under the weight of your violin and the unending pressure of never feeling good enough for anybody.

It’s not like you’re playing Bach’s music for your own selfish enjoyment. His piece, the one you’ve been working on, is your one way ticket to a spot in the annual Bach Festival next month. The festival is the pride and joy of the music program, pulling in big performers and big crowds. Any classical musician has a soft spot for Bach, even just a little. Even you do too, but it wouldn’t be fair to say that right now. Not after you’ve spent the better part of an hour trying not to rip your hair out over the same section. Even without the music of the festival, it’s always a good excuse for the performing music majors to get together afterward and get trashy drunk.

Last year at the afterparty, Taehyung had drunkenly told you that he was jealous of your vibrato while Yoongi stood by, watching in abject embarrassment. Even then, Yoongi didn’t offer you any words.

And it’s not like you are playing in the Bach festival out of your own free will. After some gentle coercion (read: the cold, hard eyes of the music department head, Dr. Yang, boring into the depths of your puny musician soul) you found yourself with a whole new piece to add to this semester’s repertoire and only a month to bring it some musical justice and to commit it to memory.

Don’t ever let Dr. Yang ever hear this, but you’ve never liked this partita this much anyway. Fighting the cold dead ghost of J.S. Bach and his charming partitas is the last thing that you want to do every evening when you really could just be doing anything else.

It’s most definitely not like you’re any stranger to performing and you really want this opportunity, truly. But blending into the gentle melody of the rest of your string quartet or the roar of the orchestra is worlds away from being alone on stage. There’s a comfort in the safety that comes from numbers. It’s easy enough to play for your teacher. The space that the both of you exist in is just right: you see her once a week, and she’s paid to deliver you with honest criticism. It’s straightforward, a mutual agreement.

But performing is different. It’s easy enough to be vulnerable like that in front of someone that just wants you to do better. Someone that you pay to make you get better. Someone that’s been doing it for the better part of their life and will understand the craft better than you ever will. But an open concert hall with anyone? That’s too much.

You’ve tried everything short of hard drugs to remedy the stage fright. Deep breathing exercises, imagining everyone before you is naked (which really, really makes it worse), carbo-loading. At this point, your body rejects performing. The fear is all-consuming and overwhelming. And the worst part is you know it’s all in your head.

What could you possibly be afraid of? You know you’ve paid your dues, prepared months in advance for these performances and yet your head swims, your heart plays pinball in your insides, your hands tremble at the prospect. There is still something profoundly vulnerable about stepping out on stage alone, the click of your heels echoing through the concert hall, a prelude of what’s to come. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise knowing that every eye in the room is trained on you.

You really don’t have a choice in the matter. Your role in the Bach festival was long decided before you ever stepped foot on campus this semester. The music department has been planning this since the beginning of the academic year, and it’s not surprising that your name might have come up during the meetings that decided who would be on the program.

Even so, these kinds of late nights are not new.

The pressure of this semester took you off guard. The coursework is more than you’re used to, stretched too thin between violin lessons, quartet rehearsals, orchestra rehearsals. Neverending rehearsals.  And then there’s the matter of your actual classes. You cringe at the thought of the philosophy paper due next week, the calculus problem set (which, by the way, why the hell did your advisor make you take this class?) due two days from now, the growing number of readings that you always mean to do. (But never do until the night before the midterm.)

After running through the same sections over and over with little progress, maybe, you decide, it’s time for a little break. Eyes bleary, you stifle a yawn as you place your violin back into its case. You gently sweep the rosin off the strings and the varnished exterior with a soft cloth, with the kind of love that a mother has for a newborn baby. You elect to leave your backpack and violin case in the practice room, promising yourself to come back and work on it some more before you leave for the night.

The only thought on your mind is the comfort of the broken-in couch that lives in the hallway of the second floor of the music building. It’s been there longer than you have, longer than anyone at this school has been. The couch is shaped like a lopsided smile, creaking underneath your weight when you lay down on it.

This is the only relief you’re going to get today, aside from when you finally go back to your dorm room to sleep. Just a couple minutes out here to rest, and you should be able to go inside and maybe run through the piece a couple more times.

When you finally relax, your joints ache and the pricking pain comes back to your fingertips. Blood wells up in the calluses on your left hand, but it’s nothing new. Maybe you have been overworking yourself a little, but all of that pales in comparison to the deadlines looming over your head for the next couple months. A couple sleepless nights mulling over pieces in the practice room are likely necessary to be able to meet your goals. Well, it's been more than a couple sleepless nights, actually. The past three weeks were all spent here. Anyone in the music building in the evening, any evening, could hear the warble of your violin if they strained their ears enough.

The couch feels too much like the lumpy mattress sitting in your dorm room. Better, actually. A couple minutes of quiet contemplation pass, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. Your eyelids keep closing not of your own volition, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to open them each time. You drift off into a restless sleep, murky dreams shadowed by all the work that you have cut out for you for the rest of this week.

~

“Hey, hey, y/n.” Something, or someone, rouses you from your sleep. A gentle hand on your shoulder, a soft voice in the distance. You’re too stunned and groggy to do much of anything than bring a hand to cover the lights overhead.

Min Yoongi stands before you, coffee in hand. He’s making that face that he’s always making, lips drawn in a tight line and brow furrowed in what looks a lot like disdain.

Before you get the chance to say anything, memories of the last time you spoke flood you.

“It is y/n, right? Your name is y/n?” You realize your compromised position, prone and folded up on the sagging couch.

“Um, yeah.” You sit up, running a hand through your hair, trying not to make your embarrassment apparent. He doesn’t say anything else, just looking at you, evaluating your mess of a person.

“Sorry,” you say, sounding sheepish despite yourself. You can only hope that you weren’t sleeping with your mouth open.

“Sorry for what? The only thing you’re doing wrong is sleeping on that damned couch. Do you know how many people have fucked on that thing?”

You stutter, lost for words. Laughter comes out at the seams. It’s the second time that you’ve spoken to him and that’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth, but what else would you expect? Most of your interactions with him to date involve you trying not stare in the middle of your species counterpoint lecture. But who cares about writing perfectly structured harmony when you can stare at his perfectly structured hands?

It’s unfair how good he looks right now, at the witching hour on a weeknight. The aloof, barely present, I-could-totally-be-anywhere-else thing works for him. It works for you, at least.

But none of it matters now, both of you are talking now. It’s past midnight in the creaky music building, anything can happen.

“It’s Yoongi, right?” You question, the grogginess leaving and something else settling in. It’s all for show. Of course you know his name.

He nods in affirmation.

“Why did you have to wake me up in the first place? You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s getting late, you know. I didn’t want you to wake up and realize you’ve been locked inside the music building.” Min Yoongi adjusts his glasses, genuine concern in his eyes when he continues, “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

You relax a little, softening at the edges, leaning more into the sinking couch and away from his imposing gaze. The butterflies return again, and your mind blanks thinking of a response to his concern. You must be really fucked if simple eye contact reduces you to a dysfunctional mess.

“I-I’m fine, just working on this stupid piece. And I can say the same for you. Why are you here so late?” You stutter over your words. Get yourself together. This is your chance to finally talk to him. Just don’t fuck it up now.  

Yoongi bristles where he stands. “Same as you. Why else would I be in the practice rooms so late?” He returns your knowing smile.

“I mean, it’s a college campus. They’re private, soundproof practice rooms. He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious?” Your eyes crinkle at the corners when you smile up at him.

“You’re overestimating me.” He chuckles low and it goes straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Are you playing at the Bach festival?” Yoongi says, moving to sit down next to you, The couch sinks ever lower under his weight. Yoongi was right: people really are fucking on the couch after hours.

“Hoping to, at least. This partita will be the end of me.” You put your head in your hands, groaning. The memory of your previous practice session returns, reminded of all the hours left that you’ll spend chipping away at all the notes. It feels like a weight has returned to your shoulders. Even the thrill of getting to talk to Yoongi isn’t enough to distract you from all the stress of the Bach festival.

“I’m sure it’s fine. You’re here all time, hogging the nice practice rooms. You can’t be practicing this much and have it sound bad.”

“That’s because you’ve never heard me play,” you jab. This conversation isn’t going anywhere, maybe you read it all wrong.

“Well,” he quips, “Maybe you should let me hear you.” When he meets your eye again, there’s something else in his expression.

You weigh your options. This might be one of the only times that you ever speak to Min Yoongi again for the rest of the semester.

Pros: You get to talk to him for longer than three seconds. You get a second, outside opinion from someone who doesn’t play violin.

Cons: You have to actually show him what you’ve been working on.

“If you’re up for it, maybe you could hear me now. I could really use a second opinion on this piece before my lesson next week.” Ugh, fuck it.

You can feel it bubbling up now, the same anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You’ve felt it in the sweltering heat of the backstage behind a velvet curtain, and now you’re feeling it in the stagnant air of the second floor of the music building. But if it gives you a chance to talk to Min Yoongi, you might as well take it.

You watch him consider your words. A silence falls between you both, widening into a maw. Were you too forward? Maybe this was all a mistake. You’ve offered something that he doesn’t want, and this is all going to fall apart, and he’s going to think you’re weird for propositioning him.

You can see it now, two days from now when you see him in your Beethoven lecture. He’ll avoid your gaze as you walk into the classroom, and he’ll have forgotten your name by next semester.

Before you can berate yourself further, Yoongi smiles. He looks surprised, like you’re doing him a favor. “You’d really let me hear you play?”

Relief colors your smile.

“Of course. The best pianist in the whole department, all to myself?” Flattery makes Min Yoongi blush, you discover.

“It’s nice to have someone finally admit it,” Yoongi trails off. “So, are you going to let me hear you play? Sitting on this couch is nice, but you know what this couch is really for.”

“Ha, ha. Sure.” Both of you shuffle to your practice room, Yoongi holding the door open for you. When you brush past him, you can smell the lingering coffee on his breath and whatever laundry detergent he’s using. It’s dizzying.

You begin to take your things out of your case, taking extra care to rosin your bow even though you did it earlier. You take the extra time to wipe the varnished wood of your violin, sweeping at rosin marks that aren’t there just to stretch the time out more.

“So,” you begin, “What were you working on in the other room?”

“I was actually just working on some drills, nothing in particular.” In the meantime, Yoongi takes a seat at the piano bench and it looks like he’s always been there. Like he belongs there, just like that morning in the practice rooms.

Yoongi can tell that you love what you do in the careful, practiced way that you open your case and delicately tighten your bow. He’s never seen you in your element before, not like this, not in this proximity. Yoongi straightens himself in his chair when he realizes that his eyes have trailed from your shoulder rest to your ass.

“Hm, yeah. I should work more on technique practice too… I’ve just been working on repertoire lately. To be honest, I don’t run through my scales as often as I should.”

“You know, it might sound familiar to you. The etude I was working on, I mean. It was the one I was working on when you so rudely barged in on me that one time.” He says, all arrogance. Smugness all over his smile. You hate him for it.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry about that!” You cringe at the memory, “I can’t believe you remember that.” Your efforts at setting up your shoulder rest are twice renewed.

“Of course I do. How can I forget something like that?” Yoongi crosses his arms, leaning back. “Now you’re just making it even.”

You’re too flustered to tell if he’s genuinely flirting, but whatever it is, it does nothing to calm your nervousness.

“Um, before I start, I should probably tell you that it’s kind of rough. Like, I started on it recently, and I’m still not that happy with it…” You trail off, looking unsure. Your violin begins to droop from where it’s resting on your shoulder. The pit of your stomach feels light again, but it’s not arousal or attraction this time, just the same stage fright that’s tormenting you since forever. Yoongi is worried you’ll give into it, put your violin back in the case and pretend this never happened.

“Hey, I really don’t know that much about violin and I don’t even know what your piece is. I just want to hear you play,” Yoongi’s soft tone surprises you. He pauses, slowly meeting your eye, “Please?”

You would do anything to hear that again. To see and hear Min Yoongi sitting before you with those asking eyes, saying please just one more time. Maybe it’s the late hour or lingering delirium from your fevered sleep, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t usually show that to just anyone.

You pretend to consider his words, but you were bought the second that he asked you “please.” You drag out the act as long as you can muster.

He’s still looking at you, asking with his eyes.

“Hmm, okay,” You dig your toe through some invisible spot on the carpet, now too shy to meet his gaze. You move your sheet music on the stand, not that you need to, realizing that your hands are trembling. Performance anxiety bubbles up within you, shaking your heart and hands the same. You tamp it down.

“I’ll show you. But it’s only for you, okay?” This is a low risk situation, he doesn’t know what it sounds like, and if it all goes to shit, just skip sections, you tell yourself, stilling the frantic breath in your lungs. You shut your eyes, blinking, placing your hand in the correct position and the bow resting lightly on the string. One more deep breath and you start to count off in your head, reeling up to play. It’s okay. It’s fine, everything is going to be okay. You ignore his gaze, on you and only you. There’s nothing else to look at but you, anyway. There is only the soundproof padding and the panel mirror mounted to the wall, the piano that sits pressed up against the wall in this cramped up room. You work your way through the scale patterns and the rolled chords that Bach laid out centuries ago, easy going so far. You shut your eyes again.

Yoongi can tell that you’re nervous. Really nervous. He can see the tension in the way you stand, in the way that you tremble when you lift your bow. It doesn’t sit right with him that his simple presence in the practice room unnerves you so much. But it’s not like he’s completely unaware of what he does to you. Yoongi remembers that morning in the practice rooms, vividly. He remembers your doe-eyed expression, silently begging for forgiveness. He also remembers all those furtive glances you take in lecture together, like you didn’t think he’d notice. He thinks it’s cute. Endearing, almost.  

It’s unfair how nervous you seem when he knows how good you are. God knows there have been enough hazy Saturday nights when he’s tipsy, Taehyung’s tipsy, everyone’s tipsy - and Taehyung is complaining about the cute violinist girl with impeccable vibrato and is always hogging the best practice room.

He can see you starting to relax, the passion alight in your eyes, so awake and alive even in the dead of night. You sway on your feet, like this is somewhere glamorous and not a dingy fluorescent practice room. He blushes when the tempo picks up, something else in your expression now, and he notices how dexterous your hands are. What’s even more attractive is the way you seem so removed from everything. He watches the way that the world around you fades away. It’s just you and your music, nothing else that matters in the world.

How could he have ever strained his ears for your muffled playing outside the practice rooms, if this was what was inside?

It’s easier to focus on the sound when you’re not looking at him looking at you. The muscle memory comes back and your mind goes elsewhere, anywhere away from Min Yoongi. You can only hope you’re not pulling an ugly smile, and that your shoulder rest isn’t giving you a double chin. You try to put your focus on the right amount of vibrato, your bow control, the dynamics. Like always, the music sucks you up and pulls you in (even if it is an overplayed Bach partita), pausing only briefly to turn the page on your music. It’s not until the thirty-second note runs until you begin to stutter. Your fingers trip over themselves as you struggle to play them on tempo and that’s when you stop, finally meeting Yoongi’s eyes for the first time after.

“And that’s about as far as I got. I’ll spare you from what the rest sounds like so far. I’d rather show you what I have on tempo first.” You are breathless, but so is Yoongi, but he’d never tell you that. His eyes are dilated, lips parted, cheeks pink. But at this distance you don’t notice, too self-conscious about your performance to focus on anything else. Yoongi hasn’t said anything, just looking at you intently, looking lost in thought. The silence is heavy.

“So… what did you think?” You look less confident than before, more wry and unsure of yourself.

“It was, wow, they weren’t wrong. You sound really good. You are really good.” Yoongi rubs his hands up and down his thighs, hands clammy. He rambles on, “That was great. Thank you, thank you, um, for showing me.”

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little, just to clear the suddenly serious atmosphere. “Who is they?”

“Well, everyone thinks that you’re an amazing violinist. Taehyung has said a lot about you, and some of my other friends have too.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that I had a reputation.” You take the shoulder rest off your violin and put it back into its rightful place, the tiredness settling in deeper into your bones. It’s truly late now.

“Of course you have a reputation, have you heard yourself?” Yoongi sounds incredulous.

“I mean, I thought I was just okay,” You nervously run a hand through your hair. You wipe your violin down again, just to give your hands something to do. You shut the book on the music stand and stow it away in your case.

“You’re more than okay. It sucks to see you doubt yourself. I hope that’s okay for me to say.” Yoongi follows the movement of your hands as you close the clasps on your case, everything packed away. Is it really time to go already?

“I haven’t met a single musician that doesn’t feel that way about their own playing.” You sit next to him on the piano bench. The conversation is more heavy than you would like, too late at night to be introspective, and you just want to get that disappointed expression off his face.

“But yeah, it sucks.”

Yoongi sucks his lower lip between his teeth, sucking in breath. There is mirth in his eyes. “Well, I never get nervous about playing.” He places his hands on the keyboard, taking a sharp breath again. “You’ve probably heard it before, but the trick is to pretend like you know exactly what you’re doing. You just really have to believe in it. And that everyone in the room is naked.” You don’t notice the way that his eyes travel down your body when he says “naked.”

He makes a big show of playing Chopsticks, but he can’t hide his laughter. Neither can you. By the time he’s finished, you are collapsed over the keys, doubled over in laughter. Yoongi stands from the bench and takes a bow. If you weren’t still so nervous, you might have noticed the flush on his cheeks, creeping down into his collar.

“Thank you, thank you.” He pouts. “Where’s my applause?”

You clap your hands for him, greatly exaggerating the motion. “Bravo, bravo,” wiping fake tears from your eyes.

When the laughter fades away, and your heart has calmed down, the silence settles in again. You want to flee, worried that you’ll end up saying the wrong thing. You get up from the bench, stretching your legs a little, not missing how tired your body is. You pick up your case.

Yoongi can’t hide the disappointed expression on his face. “Oh, are you leaving?” He checks the time on his wristwatch. “It is pretty late after all…”

You check the time as well, shocked at the hour. You must have slept longer than you thought, or maybe spending time with Yoongi flew by. “I should be getting back to the dorm, I have early classes tomorrow.”

“Do you live on campus?” Yoongi gets up as well, putting his hands in his pockets, “I could walk you back, it’s not really safe to be walking alone at this hour…”

“Yeah, I live on campus.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and hug your case to your chest. At this proximity, Yoongi seems a lot taller than you had previously thought. “And that would be really nice. Do you live on campus? I don’t want to make you walk too far.”

“I live in an apartment close to campus, walking distance. It’s really not too much.” Both of you head for the door, exiting the music building into the harsh winter chill. You hug your case a little closer to you, shivering in your thin sweatshirt.

The walk back to your dorm is shorter than you would like, and you are back before you know it. Yoongi distracts you from the bitter chill with his voice on the way back, regaling you with tales of how he discovered what Taehyung was doing with Jungkook, the resident bassoonist, on the couch that you were sleeping on just hours ago.

“Ugh, gross. I’ll never be able to look at the couch the same.” You wrinkle your face in disgust.

You turn around to face him at the staircase in front of your dorm. “So, um, thanks for walking me back.”

You really don’t know what to say to him, so you settle for, “That was fun.”

So that’s all there was. It’d be a lie to say that you weren’t a little disappointed that you couldn’t talk to him more, turn this into something more. But you got what you wanted, didn’t you? You got to talk to him for longer than three seconds, and now the night is over. It seems like he’s forgotten your previous practice room blunder. You turn around again, key in hand. You wonder what else you might have been able to say to him, if maybe you were just a bit braver.

“Bye,” you say, but it comes out as a tired whisper.

“Wait.” His hand closes over the slope of your shoulder, so gentle and featherlight, but your tired body stumbles back anyway.

“Could I-could I maybe… get your number? You should… you should let me return the favor sometime. You can hear me play, if you want to.” When you turn around again, the same pleading, asking expression is back. You follow the movement that his hand makes when he runs his hand through his hair, settling on the nape of his neck. He looks unsure. Like before, you would give anything to see that expression on his face again.

“Silly goose, I’ve already heard you play,” You play coy, but both you and Yoongi can see through it.

“Ha. Ha. I mean really, you should hear me play something a little more difficult. You should see what these hands can really do.” He waggles his fingers, and there’s relief in his eyes when he hears your answering laugh.

“That sounds good. Sure, you can have my number.” Yoongi hands you his phone and you type your number in.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

© honsoolie. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

These works are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[floatingpetals]

Thief in the Night

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: literally all fluff

Word Count:2000+

Summary: She tried to talk to him about it. It’s been an issue with Steve for as long as she could remember. But every night, it always ended the same.

A/N: There is like no plot to this lol. It’s just all fluffy goodness. I needed a little break from my series stuff and this just kinda crapped out. I hope you all enjoy! Please reblog and let me know what you think! ❤❤

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

Frigged cold air licked at her legs, instantly causing Y/N to curl up in a ball deep in her sleep. The sudden temperature changed made a frown to tug at her lips and her brows to crease. Her teeth started to chatter, and her body trembled as the chill set in. It didn’t take her long to wake with a start and blink groggily. In her haze, Y/N’s wondered just why the hell she was so freaking cold.

She groaned and stuck her hand out behind her, blindly reaching for the sheet and comforter she was one hundred percent certain she had wrapped around her when she fell asleep. She paused when she felt a lump behind her, a warm thoroughly wrapped up lump that was happily snoring away.

“Of course,” she grumbled.

Y/N rolled over to her back and glared at the back of her sleeping boyfriend beside her. Just because she couldn’t see his face, didn’t mean she wasn’t fully aware of the relaxed and unfazed expression on his face. Steve Grant Rogers had gone and done it again. Not like she could really get upset with him; he didn’t exactly mean to steal the sheets. But he was the reason the room was so stupid cold; Steve ran insanely hot at night for some reason and needed the air in the room to be cooler to not overheat. Y/N didn’t’ mind that. She did, however, not appreciate him stealing her comforters.

She glared for a moment longer before decided to take her comforter back. It took her a moment to find a way to wiggle under the covers, but once she did, she plastered herself to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Unsurprisingly, he was radiating heat like the massive furnace he was. He didn’t even flinch when she settled against him, his snores continued without missing a beat.

Well, that can’t do, Y/N thought to herself with a wicked grin. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck and she let out a breathy sigh. She couldn’t hold back her grin as she shuffled her legs further under the sheets and pressed her frigid feet against his stupidly warm calves. At the same time, she slid her equally freezing hands up under his white t-shirt and shoved them up to rest on his pecks.

His reaction was instantaneous. His eyes flew open with a hiss and his body reflexively lurched to get away. Y/N giggled and tightened her grip around his chest and slid her feet up his legs.

“Jesus Christ!” He yelped when her freezing foot climbed up his thigh. He shot a hand out to stop her from going higher, his grip tight in warning. “Why are you so damn cold?!”

“Me?” Y/N counter indignantly. “You’re the butt munch who stole the sheets! Again!”

Steve bit his lip, the frustration of being woken up fading away when he took note of his position under the several layers of blankets. It was an old habit of his, from before the serum when he lost body heat regularly. Bucky always used to say he looked like he was in a cocoon whenever he’d spend the night on Bucky’s old couch. He didn’t realize how inconvenient it was until he started dating Y/N a year ago and they had the same outcome every night they spent together. Sighing, he unclenched and started unwrapping the blankets to drape over her behind him.

“’M sorry,” He murmured. Y/N snorted and snuggled closer against him. If she couldn’t get her own space, then fine. She’d cling like a koala and he’d lose his.

“I know you are.” She sighed and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. A purr rumbled in his chest, the soft-touch causing his eye to flutter close. One of his hands reached under his shirt to cover hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the back of her hand. “Still doesn’t mean we’re gonna overlook your problem.”

Steve smirked and shook his head. He had a feeling this wasn’t gonna end that easily. She had already given him an earful about it a few nights ago before bed. He wasn’t intentionally ignoring her. It was a work in progress.

“I know.” He murmured. “I don’t mean to…”

Y/N hummed and let her head fall on the pillow. She let out a heavy sigh and tried to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Once she was up, it took a long while for her to fall back asleep, unlike the thief in the night who could fall asleep on a dime. She hated that but also loved knowing it was because of her presence that Steve to felt safe enough to fall asleep so quickly. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders, so any help she could give, Y/N was happy for it.

However, for her, her brain just wouldn’t stop thinking. It was a constant buzz in the back of her head that no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to shut up. Ever. Case in point, right now it kept asking the question what the hell made him still yank covers despite his temperature running higher than it used to be.

“Steve,” Y/N whispered. Steve answered with a teeny groan. Y/N pouted and tried again with a shimmy of her hips. “Steve.”

He didn’t respond and when he started to snore, Y/N knew he was back asleep. The giant jerk. Well, that just wouldn’t do. She was up because of him and he wasn’t getting away with it that easily. Gently tugging her hand from his grip, she reached down and dug her knuckled into his side between his rib cages. It wouldn’t hurt him, but it was a sure-fire way to wake him up. Steve snorted and jerked, his eyes flying open wide.

“Whas happened?” He slurred and blearily rubbed his eyes.

“I can’t sleep.” She stated simply. Steve grumbled and rolled over to face her in her arms. Unsurprisingly, he had an exhausted look on his face. It was clear how hard he was struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open.

“Aw, m’ sorry baby.” He cooed and raised a hand to rest on her cheek. Y/N watched amused as his eyelids drooped shut in seconds on relaxing into her bed. His hand fell with a soft smack on her cheek and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter tumbling from her mouth. Steve jerked awake once again.  

“Y/N,” He whined. Y/N giggled at his pout which only made her laugh harder. He grumbled under his breath and forced her face into the crook of his neck.

“Steve!” She snickered but didn’t fight his embrace. He shushed her halfheartedly and started to run his hand down the back of her head. Well, more like drug his heavy fingers down her head in a sleepy attempt to quiet her.

“Go to sleep,” He mumbled. Y/N scoffed.

“If only it was that easy.”

“It is. Just close your eyes and shhh….”

“But that’s not-,”

“Shh sh sh,” Steve interjected, his speech falling off as he slowly succumbed to sleep. Again.

Now her brain wouldn’t stop jumping from how she was going to wake him up again to what the hell she was going to wear tomorrow, to what she was going to have for lunch. Groaning softly under her breath, Y/N knew this was fruitless and started to wiggle out of Steve’s grip. Steve inhaled sharply, and sluggishly stirred as she shimmed off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” He called sleepily. Y/N stood at the end of the bed and looked over to Steve. He was utterly adorable, with the pile of blankets wrapped up around him and just his face peeking out of the mass as he squinted in the darkness to see her.

“I’m going to make some tea and maybe take some Benadryl so I can fall back asleep since someone was so kind and woke me up.”  

Steve frowned and rolled over, mentally debating on whether he should get up to follow after her. The bed was colder without her, the safety blanket he had gone with her. Exhaling dramatically, Steve shoved the blankets off and grabbed one of the thick blankets on top to wrap around himself. Shuffling down the hall, Steve stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and watched Y/N start the electric kettle.

She was humming softly to herself, grabbing a bag of tea from the box in the pantry completely oblivious to the looming man behind her. Y/N turned around to go to where the mugs were and nearly flew out of her skin.

“Jesus!” Her squeaked and her hand flew to her chest. “What the hell?”

“You left me alone.” He pouted. Y/N sighed and rubbed her temple.

“I went-. I told-,” Taking in a deep breath, Y/N shook her head deciding it was best just to let it go. “Never mind. You’re lucky your cute.”

A soft smile grew on Steve’s face and a warm fuzzy feeling settle in his stomach. In the back of his mind, he knew she was poking fun at him, but he was going to take the compliment at face value. It was too early to be sarcastic back. He scuffled across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Y/N waist. A sweet thought, but in his sleepy state, Steve wasn’t aware of how his body weight sagged down on her.

“O-okay,” Y/N staggered under his bulk. She braced her hands against the counter and spread her legs out keep from collapsing. “Steve, you can’t- I’m not equipped to carry you, baby.”

“Mhm.” Steve’s voice was muffled against her neck, but he didn’t move from his spot. He was comfy where he was.

“So… This is just our life now I guess?” Y/N teased. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to with his weight on her back and he only seemed to grow heavier the deeper he slipped into unconsciousness. The kettle went off, the shrill beeping pulling a pitiful groan from Steve in her ear. “Baby just go back to bed. You’re barely standing as it is. I’ll be there in a few minutes, I promise.”

He mumbled incoherently under his breath but gave in. He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, nearly missing the mark before he stumbled back to their share bedroom. Y/N giggled and made up her tea before she headed back to the room.

Steve had flicked on a lamp on Y/N’s side of the bed. She paused when she saw he spread the blankets out, putting a few extra on her spot, before crawling up underneath them. He was out like a light, his arm slung on her side of the bed snoring softly against the pile of pillows. Y/N melted at the sight, her lips turning up in a loving smile.  

Y/N set her mug on the bedside table and slowly lifted his arm to shimmy underneath. His eyes fluttered open briefly and gave her a lopsided grin. Y/N smiled back and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

“Go to sleep,” Y/N whispered gently. Steve hummed and gently squeezed her hip. She had just sat up when she heard his snores once again. That punk, she thought jealously. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her mug and settled in to be awake until her brain finally let her sleep. By the time she was able to drift to sleep, the tea was long gone, and her day was planned out down to the second. It was a good thing it was Friday and they didn’t have anything incredibly important to do the next day.

She flicked off the lamp and nestled in beside Steve with a happy sigh. Unconsciously, he pulled her close and nuzzled his face into her neck. A content sigh fell from his lips and he held her tight. She fell asleep with a happy smile against her blanket stealing boyfriend.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XI

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Idfk probably swearing?

• • • 

“How are you feeling?”

There wasn’t really an answer ready to be shot out at Owens when he asked that. It was the usual question asked by doctors when they wanted to get in your head, see what they needed to see to know if you were mentally alright. This felt like a mental evaluation after all. 

You shrugged a bit and Joyce gently elbowed your arm that was against the wooden armrest. Looking at her you saw the worried look on her face. It was just a few days before Christmas, and none of you wanted to be here, let alone you. 

No, the depression den that had become of the single bedroom apartment you’d been moved into was calling your name. The two liters of soda that contained more caffeine than necessary were also calling you. 

The fear of falling asleep was overwhelming, and you knew that the cheap concealer you’d bought wasn’t completely hiding the dark bags under your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly okay to not know how you feel. I don’t I think I would either-”

“When I was younger, my favorite movie was ‘Back to the Future,’ has that come out yet?” You doubted it, having not seen any posters or seen the VHS tape in the video store the last time you were there with Steve.

Owens mimicked your shrug from just seconds before. “I haven’t heard of it.”

“Right. Well, Marty McFly is the main character. And is forced into the past. . . 1955, I’m pretty sure. He’s from 85.’ But his parents are teenagers, his age in 55.’ When I was like four, I’d sprained my ankle at a park. We had gotten back from the ER, I was in a brace and Dad went to put my little brother down for a nap. Pa put on ‘Back to the Future.’ After that I always thought time travel was cool.” 

Joyce’s hand grabbed yours in a comforting manner, her thumb rubbing gentle circles into your knuckles while you continued speaking. 

“But in every movie and tv show they could go back. It could be difficult to do it. But they always did. They went back home. ‘Hot Tub Time Machine,’ ‘Avengers,’ ‘Doctor Who!’ They could go back. But I can’t, I’m stuck in the past and you’ve all said that I can’t go home.”

“You also said you didn’t want to go back to the ‘Upside Down’”

“You also didn’t offer any alternatives. Or even try to find them.”

Owens was quiet now, his face unreadable, blank of any expression while the two of you held eye contact and Joyce awkwardly sat and watched the two of you have an unspoken staring contest. 

“I’m sad, and I’m angry. But mostly, sad. Because my dad and my pa said they wanted to raise my brother and I. And now they can’t finish raising me, cause I’m here. And I won’t see them for another 36 years. Maybe not even then. I’ll be like, 50. I could be dead by then.”

“Y/n,” Joyce spoke softly. “Don’t say that, you’ll be alright.”

“We don’t know that.” You looked at Joyce, and while her eyes were soft and full of sympathy while she continued holding your hand while you let her. “You asked how I’m feeling?” You looked back at Owens whose own face seemed to offer sympathy as well. “I’m always sad and angry. And I feel like I’m going crazy because I can hear Danny’s voice and a woman’s and I’m sleep deprived because everytime I do sleep I have these awful nightmares-”

“Voices?” 

The moment he interrupted you, you wanted to run. But instead, you froze up. And the first thing, or rather person you wanted, was Steve. But why? You thought. Maybe it’s because he’d been there for you even though you called him in the very early morning, before the sun was even up. 

“Y/n?” Joyce questioned while you looked down at your own lap, as though the details in your high waisted jeans were suddenly very interesting. 

•••

The thing on your head pressed almost painfully into the nape of your neck and into your temples, Owens seemed to not be the biggest fan of even bringing you into this room and seemed put off when a nurse put the thing on your head. 

It was freaking you out, making you feel like you were crazy. But then again, everything and everyone made you feel crazy, or different, or like you could break in a single second. It had you wishing that you could go back to a few nights ago, where you and Steve had driven two counties over and back. This isn’t the place you wanted to be a few days before Christmas. 

“They’re going to turn on something, It could trigger the things you see, or hear, okay?” You looked up at the woman who adjusted the headpiece and nodded a bit before she left the room. 

You looked over at Owens before down at the table in front of you. The sound turned on. It was a simple white noise, with a bit of a background to it. You blinked once and heard another voice you recognized. 

“Just try, that’s all I need you to do.” Looking up you saw Brenner, a hand on a little girl’s shoulder. She wasn’t much older than three, and seemed to be in distress. You looked at the girl who then looked up at you, making eye contact from the other side of the table. She slowly turned her wrists over and on her right wrist you could see the numbers ‘012’ tattooed into the skin. 

You blinked again, and it was gone, as well as the sound. “Owens, we got something.” He left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts. 

If Eleven was ‘011’ and then that little girl was ‘012,’ were there others? And if so, how many got out alive? How did she see you? They were running through your mind at lightning speed that you didn’t notice when the sound came back on, but you did notice the little girl again, this time, maybe a bit older, staring at you intently, as if she was waiting for you. 

She looked familiar. And for a moment you could have sworn that she reminded you of your little brother. “Hi.” You greeted quietly. 

‘012’ tilted her head a bit before repeating your word back. “Hi.” Eleven had done the same thing when something like this happened. She repeated your word back. 

“Like me.” She mumbled looking at you. Now you tilted your head in confusion but she grabbed your hand from across the table and pointed to the cheap watch you’d bought after you no longer had a phone to carry around, and then to her eyes. “Like me.”

“I don’t understand?”

“You see,” She pointed to her eyes again before pointing to your watch. 

“Time?” 

She nodded.

She was gone when the white noise was, leaving you in silence, and alone in the white clinical room, with the headpiece still on. 

12, You thought. Who is she?

•••

Joyce stood by the windows of the office, looking out to see you and Will sitting in the chairs down the hall. Will was reading a comic and you were listening to your walkman, which Joyce noticed you had begun to carry with you everywhere. 

She was worried. How could she not be? You were her granddaughter who wouldn’t be born for a long time, whose mental health seemed to be spiraling down the drain. She’d noticed the amount of caffeine you drank, how your concealer couldn’t hide the bags under your eyes. It was impossible to not notice how awkward you acted around Will.

Joyce and Hopper were just waiting for Owens to come back with whatever the test results to say. They’d taken you away for hours, and since you’d gotten back, you hadn’t spoken to anyone. You just listened to your music and stared off into space.  

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Hopper spoke up from his seat in front of Owens’ desk, where you’d previously been sitting. He’d been out in the hall with Will until they took you for testing, not allowing either of them back with you. 

Joyce looked back at Hopper and gave an unsure nod. Looking back to the hall where the two of you sat, she saw Will showing you the pages of his comic. She could see the similarities between you two. The way your brows furrowed when listening to something and concentrating were the same, and the little nervous tick that Will had of picking at his jeans while sitting down, also seemed to be your own nervous tick. She’d noticed how’d you been doing it when Hopper opened the car door for you when they got to the lab, and when you’d been in the office. 

“What do you thinks wrong?”

“What?”

“Joyce,” Hopper started. “It’s obvious that you think something’s wrong.”

She sighed and crossed her arms, walking away from the window and sitting in the seat next to him. “I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling whenever I look at her. Like she- she’s my family, she’s my granddaughter, technically. But there’s something else to her. . . She reminds me a bit of Eleven.” She admitted. 

Something about you reminded her of the girl. But it was only until recently when she was able to place it. Over a month after the events of early November. Something about the air surrounding you made it hard not to be reminded of the twelve year old. 

Before Hopper can say anything, the door opened and Owens walked in, a confused look on his face while he walked the short distance from the door to his seat on the other side of the desk. 

“There’s nothing wrong with her.” is what he started with, looking confused while he opened the folder he’d carried in. “Brain scan came back normal, her psych evaluation was normal, everything about her, except for the situation she’s in, is normal.” 

Hopper tilted his head a bit, not quite understanding. They pulled you away for hours, leaving the three of them completely in the dark, only to say that you were fine? Even though you said you heard voices, and saw things in your sleep. 

“I’m sorry?” Hopper questioned.

“The most we can say is that she has PTSD, and with what little we know about it, she can have flashbacks, and auditory flashbacks aren’t out of the picture. She might just be hearing things she’s heard before.”

“Yeah, but she said she heard a woman she’s never heard before?” Joyce looked to Hopper before back at Owens who shrugged a bit. 

“Probably a teacher she mostly forgot about. It could be a repressed memory. Or it could be the voice of a babysitter she just doesn’t remember.” 

While that would make sense, considering you said the woman would sometimes sing, Joyce didn’t buy it. You said that Will stayed home while you were growing up. Working from home so he could keep an eye on you, and so you always had someone. It wouldn’t make sense for you to have had a babysitter. 

Hopper thought it was suspicious, with the confused look Owens had on his face before giving an answer he seemed sure about. It didn’t settle right with him. He was sure Owens was just giving an answer they’d want to hear. 

“Just be patient with her. I’m going have someone prescribe her sleeping pills so she can get some sleep-”

Hopper blocked out what he was saying, because the truth was, he had the same thoughts on you as Joyce. You oddly reminded him of Eleven as well and he didn’t believe a single thing that Owens was saying

•••

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @jxnehxpper @yllwtaxi @songofcosplay @potatopooper05 @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @the_passionate_freak @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes @random-thoughts-003

[forever-rogue]

Not a Chance

Summary: Y/N’s caught the eye of one particular Ben Jones (Hardy), but she’s not too smitten, while he’s very keen on her. Winter cuteness and shenanigans ensue!

A/N: This is my gift for the lovely @acdeaky for @borhapparker‘s Secret Santa event. Katie, you’re so sweet and kind, and I really, really hope you enjoy this! As always, thoughts and feedback are encouraged and welcome :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Warnings: None

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-«�� 

"Psst," you tried to ignore her and continue on cleaning the dirtied counter, but you knew she wasn't about to let it go. She had that tone in her voice and you knew exactly what that meant. When she realized you were blatantly ignoring her, she stood right next to go and tugged on the sleeve of your sweater, "psst, I know you're ignoring me. It’s going to work forever, you know.”

"What is it, Nicole?" you finally hissed, throwing the rag down and raising an eyebrow at her. The grin on her face stretched from ear to ear as she looked pointedly over your shoulder.

"In the corner," she said quietly, looking between the corner of the small cafè and you. You rolled your eyes dramatically, signaling that you weren't to give in and look, "just take a peek. I promise you won't regret it! Talk about babe o’clock.”

"Babe o’clock, really? What could possibly be so important that it's got you so excited?" you acquiesced to her demand, otherwise you just knew you’d never hear the end of it. Turning around and scanning the almost empty place, your eyes quickly landed on what Nicole had been playing at. You let out a long sigh - more of a combination of a ground and exasperation than anything before turning back to her, "that was what you wanted me to see?"

"Umm, excuse me?" her eyes widened with shock and surprise at her lack of excitement at her discovery, "have you gone blind? He's absolutely gorgeous! Look at that hair, and those dreamy eyes, that smile!”

"He's average at best," you lied, trying your best to keep your face neutral and keep yourself from sneaking another peak. She was right though - he was definitely gorgeous, and you were sure that he knew exactly what hold he had over women, "I go to university with him. I know exactly what he's like. And it's not something I'm interested in."

"Complete asshole?" her expression wavered as she grabbed your discarded rag and took over the cleaning. Whatever matchmaking scheme she had come up with had been quickly dashed. You shrugged lightly as the bell over the door jingled, and a few other boys came in, talking loudly among themselves before heading over to babe o’clock. You scoffed before mentally bracing yourself to deal with the rowdy bunch. They looked exactly how you pictured his friends would look.

"Not exactly," you responded to her, flicking your eyes back over to the table, and you founded him staring back at you. He smiled lightly before raising his hand and giving you a small wave. You didn't return the gesture and instead turned back to Nicole, "just not my style or crowd. Plus, his friends seem...a little annoying. Do me a huge favor and deal with them?"

"Seriously?" she didn't try to hide her annoyance. You nodded as you started to take off your apron and tossed it onto the counter, making it a point not to look back in their direction. As much as you wanted to admit you had thought he was attractive for the longest time, you weren’t about to admit that out loud. 

"I'm off in less than five anyway," you grinned at her, "I think you can handle it! Just turn on the charm - they’re rowdy uni boys, it’s not going to take much to impress them.”

"You're the worst, Y/N!" she groaned at you as you headed into the back to clock out for the day. You knew she was joking so you have her a big grin and mouthed a soft thank you. The bullet was dodged for now, and hopefully forever. 

You’d never seen him come in here before and you’d been working at the little coffee shop near your school for several years now. You wondered what suddenly had made him come in after all this. Not that you cared...not that much anyway. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Over the next several weeks, things were largely uneventful, except for the uptake in business, since Christmas was just around the corner. The cold weather always caused people to stop whenever they got the chance as it provided a nice reprieve from the cold and allowed them to enjoy a delicious coffee or tea as they de-thawed from the biting weather.

The one constant that you hadn’t expected came in the from of one Ben Jones. He’d started to come around on almost daily basis, or at least whenever you seemed to work, head usually buried in a book or hands flying furiously across the keyboard of his laptop. He made it a point to sneak glances at you, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was shamelessly staring at times. 

Nicole kept encouraging you to go and talk to him, that he was clearly smitten with you, but were insistent that he was just studying for winter finals. He could easily do that at home or the library she kept reminding you, but you played it off, sure that he just wanted the warmth and comfort of the small cafe.

But sometimes you weren’t so sure yourself...but surely he wasn’t there for you, right? And you still weren’t about to confide in anyone that you found him attractive with his pseudo-ethereal looks, glowing smile, and whimsical laugh. He was from a different crowd from you, and you weren’t about to overstep and try to become a part of his world.

You sighed and looked at your watch, getting discouraged when you saw that it was still almost another hour before you were off. It was a Friday night and the cafe was open late, but business was slow for the first time all week, and time was dragging on. There was only so much wiping and standing around you could do before it got boring.

“Y/N,” your boss, John, interrupted your thoughts, waving his hand in front of your face. He was a kind man, a retired musician who had decided to open a small little shop in his golden years. You always enjoyed working with John, usually finding yourself listening to him talk about his youth and all the shenanigans he and his friends had gotten into. You snapped back into attention and gave him a shy smile, “go on and clean down the tables and everything in the back. It’s slow enough to justify some deep cleaning, don’t you think?”

“Deacy,” that was his nickname and he loved when people called him by it; it always brought a smile to his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat when you realized the spot he had indicated; it was right by Ben naturally, “it’s Friday night, is it really the time for torture?”

“What else are you doing to do right now?” he asked, and you realized he was right, “I can handle the customers that come in. Besides, the time will fly by if you’re actually doing something.”

“Haha,” you rolled your eyes at him before ducking under the counter and grabbed a few cleaners and rags to get going on your assignment, “I’d tell you shove it, but you are the boss man.”

“You’re lucky you’re my favorite,” he winked at you as you begrudgingly made your way over to where Ben was. You had already decided that if he was going to try and speak to you, you’d only provide simple one word responses. Short, sweet, and to the point. A perfect solution to your little predicament.

Humming slightly under your breath as you started to clean, you trained your eyes on the table. Ben’s eyes had wandered over to you as soon as you had started walking over and prayed that his paper or whatever he was working on would be more enticing. But once again, you were proven wrong.

“Hi,” it was soft and you weren’t sure at first if he had said anything, but the way his green eyes met yours told you he did. You suddenly found yourself lost for words, opening and closing your mouth a few times, “I-I’m Ben. I don’t know if you remember-”

“You’re in four of my classes,” there was your voice, and you internally cringed a little bit at your outburst, “I know who you are. Everyone does.”

“Oh,” his smile flickered ever so slightly at your response and you felt bad. It hadn’t meant to come off as condescending, but apparently you had, “I just...we haven’t really spoken much, so I wasn’t sure if you knew...”

“Do you even know my name?” you weren’t sure if he knew the answer, but you were genuinely curious. You remembered you were wearing a name tag and quickly covered it up, giving him a cheeky look, “no cheating!”

“Y/N,” he answered quickly, “Y/N L/N.”

“Well, you’ve got that correct,” interesting  you thought to yourself. You weren’t sure he’d ever paid much attention to you at all. He smiled, clearly pleased with himself, “is there anything I can get you? I’m, ugh....pretty busy and don’t have time to chat.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and realized that the excuse was pretty lame. You bit your lip and nodded weakly as you scanned the almost empty place. John was intently pretending not to watch the two of you as he whistled to himself. 

“Uh huh,” grabbing the rag, you scrubbed the table, “sorry!”

“You can get me one thing actually-”

“Oh?” you momentarily wondered if he was going to be cheesy and ask for your number. Not that you’d give that to him...not at this point anyway.

“What’s your favorite color?” it was a surprising question and you definitely weren’t expecting it. You put your hands on your hips and stifled a small laugh, “what?! I’m being serious.”

“Seriously serious?”

“Dead.”

“Yellow,” you answered honestly, watching his face light up. It wasn’t a color most people favorited, but it always managed to cheer your up and brightened your day.

“Yellow’s a pretty one,” he replied, “like you.”

“Very subtle, Ben,” you groaned as a light blush crept into his cheeks, coloring them a soft shade of rose, “now get back to studying. I’ve got work to do anyways.”

You quickly scurried away from him, and back behind the safe refuge of the counter, heart thumping wildly in your chest. John was bemused, and just shook your head at him.

“He fancies you,” he stated simply, cleaning under the items on the counter. You sighed heavily at his astute observation.

“Not a chance,” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek in order to keep from smiling too much, “he’s just a customer.”

“Mhmm,” he wasn’t discouraged, “a customer that comes whenever you’re working and just told you that he thought you were pretty. All very subtle signs.”

“Stopppp,” you groaned at him, “otherwise I’ll quit here and now!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, “no need for the theatrics. I’ll stop for now...just remember, no making out on the job. No one needs to see all that PDA!”

“JOHN!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were working a morning shift, a rarity for you since you generally had classes in the morning, but Nicole had asked you to cover a shift for her and your class had been cancelled, so you figured you might as well. It was a chilly morning, a fresh layer of soft snow covering the ground, and a few people milling about, drinking their coffees and eating pastries. 

It nearing Christmas and you had the spirit running throughout your body, so much that you had even decided to let Christmas music flow throughout the cafe. John had decked the place for the holiday, no corner left un-decorated, and he’d decided to be extra, just like his old friend Freddie had always been, and put up mistletoe in several strategic places. You had sighed and complained heavily at him, but he had carried on, a smirk on his face as he blissfully ignored your grievances. You knew exactly why he did it too. You had no doubt that it was all for a certain customer named Ben Jones.

He’d continued to hang around the cafe, and by this point you were sure it wasn’t just for the study environment. It was often crowded and loud at the times he came, times you generally worked, and you could tell he wasn’t that deeply engrossed in his work. The semester was pretty much over and since you shared a lot of classes you knew there weren’t many more assignments left, only a few finals coming up, but you knew those would be easy. Maybe Nicole and John had been right in the first place...what if he was there for you? 

At this point, you didn’t even mind seeing him almost every day; he’d become the most steadfast part of your day and as it turned out, he was often the best part. 

Sometimes when it was really busy there would only be a few rushed exchanges, but if it was slower, there’d be deeper more intimate conversations, which, truthfully, you didn’t even know he was capable of at first. He’d ask you all sorts of things about yourself, like your favorite flowers, songs, movies, what your family was like, what you wanted to do in life, what you planned on doing after graduation, and what kind of pizza you favored. At first you had played it off and tried to seem disinterested, but soon enough, you weren’t even bothering to hide how happy you were to see him. There was something about him that you just couldn’t get enough of, and you wanted to everything about him too.

“Not a chance, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself as you set a freshly prepared cup of coffee onto the bar for whoever had ordered it, “he’s not here for you.” 

“What was that?” the voice that had become oh so familiar over the past several weeks interrupted your thoughts as your eyes flicked up to meet Ben’s. Both of his hands were behind his back, and unless you were hallucinating, you were sure he seemed nervous.

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to figure out what he was hiding, not even bothering at this point to hide your smile, “whatcha got, Benny boy? Something good I hope?”

“I hope you like them,” he finally revealed what he had been hiding from you. It was a beautiful bouquet of all colors and shades of daises, the majority of them were a wonderful yellow. Your heart seemed to burst as you looked between him and flowers, “well...do you like them?”

“Yes,” you admitted as you walked around the counter and stood in front of him, taking them out of his hands and giving them a good smell before clutching them to your chest, “I love them. Thank you so much...but to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“No reason in particular,” he said sheepishly, “just felt like doing something special for the prettiest girl.”

“Oh? Who should I give these to then?”

“Shut up,” he joked, nudging your arm slightly as you both laughed, “I dunno...just wanted to give you a little something special.”

“They’re lovely, really. Thank you, Ben,” you weren’t sure if you should hug or kiss him, not wanting to overstep your boundaries. So you shyly stuck out your hand, settling on giving him a handshake. He was just as surprised as you at the lukewarm response, but he took your hand in his and gave it a firm squeeze. 

“I guess I should let you get back to work,” he said quietly, not wanting to end the conversation, but not wanting to drag it out either.

“Guess I should go and work,” you could feel a pair of eyes on your back and you just knew that John was watching what was going on, probably silently celebrating since this is what he had expected to happen all along. You grabbed his coffee and handed it to him, hand trembling slightly with nerves, “well, I hope you enjoy...”

He took it with a grateful smile, about to turn away and head to the table that had become his unofficial spot, but something compelled him to turn around and stay, “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” your heart was starting that same rapid beating, butterflies all in your stomach. There was something about damned smile and those gorgeous eyes that made you weak in the knees; you had sworn you wouldn’t give into him, and yet here you were, putty in his hands. 

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” he blurted out suddenly, his voice climbing about an octave higher than normal as he anticipated your response.

“Yes,” you answered before you could even think about it. Even if you had thought about it, it wasn’t going to be a no anyways.

“Great,” he bit his lip and you thought you had almost died and gone to heaven. You were sure there was almost no better sight in the world, “then it’s a date...”

“It’s a date,” you repeated, feeling like your face was about to break in half from the giant grin, “oh! Actually I work till 6, but we could do something afterwards?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great! Is there someplace you wanted to meet? ‘Cause I kinda feel you’ve got this whole thing planned.”

“How about I pick you up?” he suggested, “and if you must know, I do have something in mind. It’s only taken me what...about two months to pluck up the courage to actually ask you out? Needless to say, I’ve had plenty of time to think about all of this.”

“I knew it!” John had somehow inched his way closer and become privy to your entire conversation. The two of you turned to face him, and as much as you tried to be annoyed, the both of you couldn’t help but giggle. John gave you a gaptoothed smile before going back to the espresso machine, pretending to be engrossed. I guess they were right after all you thought to yourself. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you turned back to him and he bobbed his head up and down, “thank you again for the flowers. I’m sure Deacy is going to arrange them perfectly in a nice vase for me, aren’t you?”

John played deaf as you exchanged a look with Ben. Ben reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek and causing a jolt of electricity to flow throughout your body, “see you tomorrow, love.”

He turned on his heel and left, turning around to shoot you one last wink before disappearing outside and into the lightly swirling snow. You watched him go, rooted in your spot as you swayed lightly on your feet. Was this real life or fantasy?

“I hate to say I told you so, kid,” John reached for the flowers so he could store them properly for you, seemingly approving of Ben’s choices, “but I told you so. He is completely smitten with you.”

“How do you even know that?” you followed him behind the counter, your face feeling warm, “he just seemed so...”

“Interested?” he suggested and you wrong nonchalantly as you hopped onto the counter, “how was it not obvious to you? No man comes to the same place to study as frequently as he did.”

“Oh. Oh?”

“Besides that,” he started arranging the flowers, “he asked about your schedule ages ago. And about what your favorite flowers were.”

“He what!?”

“Don’t act so shocked,” John seemed right pleased with himself as you tried to keep yourself together, “maybe you should have listened to me.”

“You’re the worst, Deacy,” you shook your head at him, wondering when and how you had warranted a wing man such as him, “the absolute worst.”

“Whatever you say,” he snorted, “you know, all this reminds me, I should go and get some flowers for Veronica. We’ve got a date this weekend, but I think she’ll enjoy some now!”

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you reminded him. He always beamed like no other when he talked about his wife, or any of family; he really was the gentlest soul, “tell her I said! And Cam and Luke! I’ll hold the fort down until next shift comes in.”

“You’re the best kid!” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The rest of the day, and the next day if you were being honest, were filled with nervous anticipation as you tried to figure out what Ben had possibly planned. For a second you wondered if this was some sort of colossal mistake and he was planning on kidnapping you, but you quickly pushed that out of your mind.

Was it something formal or fancy? If you dressed up would it end up being over the top and ridiculous? But if you went too casual would you look silly and out of place? You let out a long sigh as you flopped onto your bed and buried your face into your pillow. You never would have cared this much with anyone else, but suddenly with Ben you were over-analyzing every little detail. Who would have thought?

After calling your best friend and trying to get her reassurances and opinions, you settled on a silver dress that had some gold details on it. That way you figured it was ever so slightly festive, and could be either casual or more dressy. If you continued to think about it anymore, it would drive you crazy, so you decided to let it be. Whatever happened at this point would happen.

“My, my, my,” Nicole was practically beaming at you when you walked into work, looking way more done up than necessary for a regular shift a. You shrugged lightly before turning around and giving her a twirl, “you look stunning!”

“Really?” you asked her nervously, “I probably spent way too much time thinking about this stupid outfit. I’m actually nervous!”

“Just relax,” she encouraged you, “it’s just Ben. And it’s not like you haven’t already spent ages talking to him.”

“I know,” you walked behind towards the back to go and clock, hoping the time would go by quickly, “and yet that’s why I’m nervous!”

“You’re a bad ass, babes,” she reminded you. You gave her a nervous little smile as you ducked into the back, “you’ve got this!”

The majority of the afternoon was busy and it didn’t give you much of a chance to indulge in your own thoughts as you flitted from customer to customer. Busy was good, but it did make the time go by quickly. And as the time for Ben to pick you up came closer, your nerves grew exponentially.

“Hey,” Nicole whispered under her breath as she gently nudged your arm. You looked up to follow her line of sight, and immediately felt like the wind was knocked out of you at the sight. Ben had come in and he looked even better than he normally did, if that was possible, brushing a few flakes of snow from his golden hair. She sighed wistfully before turning back to you, “you are so lucky.”

“I suppose I am,” you responded, looking back down at the counter, trying not to get caught staring, even though you knew it didn’t really make a difference at this point.

“Go on,” she pushed you towards and him but you reminded rooted in your spot, “Y/N! Go say hi, I can cover the counter!”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

With that, you tiptoed around the counter and walked over to Ben, who was sitting near the back, a smile etched on his face as he scrolled through his phone.

“Hey stranger,” you joked softly as you waited for him to notice you. It only took a millisecond before he put his phone and looked at you, eyes widening in surprise. You could feel your entire face heating up under his gaze.

“Wow… you look beautiful,” he jumped up almost instantly and tucked his phone into his pocket, giving you his full attention. He looked just as handsome as ever, all done up in a button down and dress pants, his golden mane expertly tamed. Had he always been so good looking?

“So do you,” you managed to blurt back at him, “well handsome anyway. I’m glad I decided to dress up since you haven’t exactly told me what we’re doing.”

“It’s all a surprise, love,” he shrugged as he raised his eyebrows at you. He paused for a moment before casting his eyes upwards. It took you a moment before you realized what he was doing, but followed his gaze and spotted what had caught his eye: a beautiful fresh bundle of mistletoe.

“Of course,” you laughed nervously, “all courtesy of John.”

“You know what mistletoe means, right?” his voice was low as he stepped closer and grinned at you. You nodded as you felt yourself leaning closer into him, your body naturally responding.

“I think it means you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back at him, the two of you grinning at each other like shy little schoolchildren. You were sure that you had everyone’s eyes on your back and you thought about turning back and telling them to go away, but decided against it, too enthralled in the moment. 

“Is it okay?” he asked quietly and you found yourself only able to nod in response. He put his hand on the side of your face, skin so much more delicate than you would have thought, before you leaning down slightly and gently pressing his lips to yours. 

You thought your heart might burst with happiness as you leaned into him, not wanting the moment to ever end. He tasted sweet, almost like cocoa, his plush lips softer than your dreams even, to put it simply: perfect.

“Wow,” whether or not it accidentally came out, you weren’t sure but you found your hand going to face as he just grinned at you, “oops?”

“No oops,” he said as you heard the sound of clapping coming from behind you. You turned on your heel and found Nicole and John watching the two of you chattering among themselves, “umm...I guess they’re supportive?”

“They’ve been waiting for this moment, I think,” you admitted as you shook her at them and gestured for them to go away, “should we go...before they decide to come with us? Last time I checked this was supposed to be a date, not a friendly outing.”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, giving you that million dollar smile you already adored, “I’ll wait outside for you. Do you have a coat?”

“Yes,” you answered, “I’ll be there in just minute!”

Rushing back behind the counter you dashed into the back and quickly clocked out, taking your apron off and hastily grabbing your stuff, throwing your coat. You shook your head at your boss and friend before shouting, “I swear there better be no stalking on this date, or I’ll quit and never speak to either of you again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nicole grinned at you, giving you a cheery wave as you dashed out and in the chilly evening, “have fun, lovebirds!”

Snow was lightly falling from the sky as you stepped outside, Ben waiting there for you. It was the perfect, if not overly cliche, moment, “hey!”

“Hey,” you beamed as you almost skipped over to him, taking his outstretched hand in yours. He wasted in no time in lacing his fingers through yours, “so what did you have in mind for this evening?”

“I was thinking, and tell me if this horribly cheesy or not, that we could go and look at all the Christmas lights and displays,” he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, “and then we can go and get dinner? I have this place I really like and I think you’d enjoy it too.”

“That is all terribly cheesy,” you agreed as you stepped in stride with him, body pressed against his as much as closely as possible, “but I love the sound of it all. Lead the way Mr. Jones!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he seemed visibly relieved, “but first, we need to make a stop at my favorite, well second favorite, cafe. They had amazing everything there, and I think you’d like it. You said you like cocoa, right?”

“I did,” you grinned, happy to see that he remembered all these little things about you, “I’m impressed, you actually have quite the memory!”

“Don’t let this pretty face fool you.” he threw his back with laughter, “I’m actually smarter than I look.”

“Please, carry on and continue to impress me,” you said as he came to a stop in front of a small, quaint looking little shop. It looked old, like it was straight out of a vintage Hollywood movie, and you could already tell you were to like it, “okay, I’m already impressed!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he opened the door for your and ushered you inside, the delicious smelling space, “now let’s this date started properly.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next several hours were spent walking around hand-in-hand as Ben led you around the best Christmas and light displays around downtown London. It was almost as though he had intricately planned every step and turn and made sure you were going to be dazzled, and you definitely were. 

There were moments when you weren’t sure if you were more amazed by the lights or Ben; the way he talked about anything and everything that crossed his mind, or how his face lit up at every little display of lights, how he actually had paid attention to all the things you had told him over the last several weeks. It was all like it was almost meant to be. 

“Y/N?” you hadn’t realized you had tuned out of what he was saying, just staring at him as he told you a story. You shook your head and tuned back in and turned to him, “thought I lost you there for a moment.”

“Sorry,” you felt your cheeks heat up, “I was distracted by...”

“The lights?” he teased, but you both innately knew what you had actually been distracted by, “I can understand. The...lights are quite beautiful.”

“The lights,” you bit your bottom lip and Ben couldn’t help but stare, enthralled by your every move, “are pretty.”

“It’s getting chilly,” he swayed lightly on the balls of his feet, “are you ready to go and get dinner? It’ll definitely help us warm up.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is your favorite place?” you asked, looking around the quaint little restaurant. It was cozy and had a warm feel to it, and you were mildly surprised to find that he liked a place such as this. It seemed out of character for him, but you realized that there was a lot to him that you didn’t know yet. The more you got to knew him, the more he realized how much you actually did like him. He was much different than you had originally thought he would be.

“Is it that surprising?” he teased, nudging your leg with his under the table. You just shrugged at him, “did you really think I was just some silly jock?”

“I mean...kind of?” you admitted, poking around at the food on your plate. Needless to say your first impression of him had been wrong, very wrong. He was much more than just a pretty party boy, he was a kind and gentle soul who genuinely cared for you. You finally met his sage eyes and found him watching you curiously, "I guess I was wrong after all. You have definitely proven me wrong in all the best ways possible."

"I'm glad to hear that," he took a sip of the wine he had picked and shot you a wink, which made melt in your set a little bit, "you have not proven me wrong at all."

"Oh?" you snorted lightly as you sat back in your seat and waited for him to expand further.

"Nope," he took a bite and chewed it as slowly as possibly, purposeful with every movement. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at him, and he finally swallowed, with a little bit of laughter, "I always knew you were smart, funny, wonderful, and pretty."

"Shut up," you blurted out without even thinking about it, garnering the attention from the people at the nearby tables. Ben's shoulders shook with laughter as you cleared your throat, "I mean, what, really? I'm just...me. I'm nothing special."

"See, that's where you're wrong," he insisted, leaned in from across the table, "you are amazing though. Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean that others don't. I don't necessarily think incredibly highly of myself, but the why you make me feel is incredible."

"Oh? Really?" your voice cracked ever so slightly as your stomach seemed to do somersaults, "I mean, I like you, obviously, so yeah."

"I like you too, obviously," he confessed, although at this point it wasn't really much of a confession, "at the beginning there, I wasn't sure if you were ever going to actually going to give me the time of the day!"

"So you did come all the time for me," you realized that John hadn't been lying the whole time after all. Ben's face couldn't have been redder has he nodded and stared at his plate, "holy shit."

"Holy shit good or bad?"

"Holy shit good," you grinned at him, "definitely good."

"I mean, I thought it would be obvious that I wasn't studying that entire time!"

"It was...but you know, you can never really tell," you stuck out your tongue at him, "what if you had been there for someone else?"

"Who else was there?!"

"I dunno, Nicole?" you tried to downplay how excited you were, knowing guys like Ben usually went for all the other girls, not you generally. But the fact that you were here with was evidence that not everything was at it seemed, “she’s pretty, funny, nice.”

"That may be trust, but she’s not you. It was you," he said, "always you."

"That's super cheesy," you found yourself shyly giggling at him, "like mega, almost Hallmark status. But it's cute. You're cute."

"Yeah?" he seemed unsure of himself at first, but the grin that was pulling at the corner of his face suggested that he was indeed very pleased, “like honestly?”

"Obviously,” you took your wine glass and clinked it against his before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. You took your time tasting the liquid before washing it down, “I’m a busy person, Ben, just like I know you are, and I don’t like having my time wasted or wasting my time. And this? This is definitely not a waste of my time.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he let out a low sigh of relief, his nerves visibly calmed, “because I really don’t wasting time either, and you are definitely not a waste of time either. I like giving you my time....this is cliche? This is terribly cliche, isn’t it?”

“The most cliche thing I’ve ever witnessed,” you agreed, “but it’s Christmas time and life is all sort of a big cliche, isn’t it? I think we should toast to that.”

“To Christmas time cliches?” he asked as he held up his glass and you followed suit. You nodded and tapped your glass against his, letting a pleasant sound ring between the two of you.

“To Christmas time cliches,” you agreed and the two of you drank hearty sips before setting the glasses back down, “to this one and hopefully many more cheesy cliches to come.”

“I like the sound of that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Well, this is me,” you had made to the front of your apartment building much faster than you would have liked. The walk back from the restaurant had been pleasant, a peaceful quiet falling between the two of you as you walked hand in hand, Ben occasionally humming along to the Christmas music that flooded from every shop and home. 

“You live close to me,” he mused as you started to make your way up the steps, “I live a few blocks down. Good to know I can come and bother you pretty much whenever.”

“Ha ha,” you waggled a finger at him, unsure of what to say, but also not wanting to end the evening. If you could have had it your way, it would never have ended. He seemed to notice your reluctance in letting him leave, so he took a step up so he was almost eye level with you, staring at you with such an intensity that you were sure he could see into the depths of your soul, “well...I guess this is it.”

“Don’t make it sound so permanent,” he joked, subconsciously licking his lips, which you definitely noticed, “it’s just for tonight. If you’re working tomorrow, I have a lot of studying to do, or if you’re off, I have a lot of movies that need to be watched, and blankets that to be used sooo....”

“It just so happens that I’m off tomorrow,” you grinned at him, “and I think that a movie marathon sounds pretty good. It just so happens that I can make a mean bag of microwave popcorn.”

“Oh?” he threw his head back with laughter.

“Oh yeah,” you tried to keep a serious expression on your face, “you know, unwrapping it, sticking it in the microwave, and pressing the button...it’s hard work. But I’ve got it down, pretty well, not to brag or anything.”

“I’ve very much like to see those skills in action.”

“I guess you’d better come and pick me up tomorrow, huh?”

“How does noon sound?”

“Perfect to me,” you bounced on the heels of your feet, “I’ll see you then.”

“Yes,” he took a deep breath before giving you a small wave and turning to leave, “good night, Y/N.”

“Good night Ben,” you said quietly as you watched him leave, while you didn’t mind the sight, you still didn’t want him to go. When he was almost halfway down the block, you ran off the stairs and after him, “Ben!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked as turned to find in front of him, breathless.

“Nothing,” you admitted, “it’s just-”

Before you could say anything, Ben’s hands were on your hips and he pulled you into his body and crashed his soft lips onto yours, giving you a passionate kiss. You only took you about a second to respond, snaking your arms around his neck and keeping him pressed against your lips. 

When you finally pulled apart, you were both red faced and breathless, a dusting of snowflakes covering both of you. 

“This might be the most cliche thing of all,” he laughed as he brushed some of the flakes from your locks, “you actually came after me-”

“You kissed me,” you reminded him, raising a eyebrow, “technically. You just beat me to it.”

“And it started snowing,” you reached up and wiped some of the snow out of his locks, “almost too disgustingly cute.”

“But perfect,” you whispered softly.

“But perfect,” he agreed, “absolutely perfect.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[lightisdays2k]

Day 3: High School

Burning Phoenix here with Day 3: High School AU. This one is much shorter and more subtle, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same.

Noctis usually enjoyed stopping by the arcade after school has ended. But these days, he found himself preferring the calm and cozy quiet of a certain café. At least, that was what he told himself and the others. The other reasons would be how good the menu was; the coffee—both hot and cold—and the pastries…

Of course Noctis did find something else rather alluring, besides the peppermint mocha. And he had an eye on that reason.

Lightning could feel his eyes on her again. She had noticed Noctis coming in rather often these days; usually she would see him head off down to where the arcades were, and he would sometimes be followed by one of his friends. While Lightning herself would head to her job after school.

“Looks like you have an admirer.”

She sighed and looked over to the young woman tending the counter. Lebreau smirked at her and winked; for some odd reason, she seemed to think Noctis was coming to the NORA café just to see Lightning.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on work rather than trying to start a gossip chain?” Lightning frowned as she picked up another order and placed them on her tray.

“I am working. And so are you; therefore I can and will remind you that you do indeed have an admirer. I can tell he likes the food and drinks, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. Namely anywhere you are.” Lebreau teased.

Lightning just rolled her eyes. “You’re seeing things. Maybe you need those glasses after all.”

Without another word, she continued with her work and Lebreau pouted playfully. She was not going to let that sour puss’s temper get her down; she knew a smitten guy when she saw it. And that Caelum kid was smitten.

He would steal glances at Lightning and sometimes just blatantly watch her, only to look away if Lightning should turn in his general direction, and not necessarily notice him. Sometimes he would opened his mouth and move slightly as if he wanted to say something to her, only to back down before he even started.

The poor buy was obviously the shy type, even though his outer appearance screamed ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. Or at least, ‘two-inches-taller-than-Lightning’. If he did not act soon, he’d surely regret it and still not make a move. Men.

“Hey Lebreau, shouldn’t you be manning the counter instead of daydreaming?” Yuj said, snapping his co-worker out of her daydream.

“I am working! I’m working on a way to get that boy to actually grow the balls to talk to good ol’ Rosebush!” She protested.

Yuj gave her a look. “Matchmaking isn’t in the job description…”

The brunette scoffed. “Oh hush, you! What do you know about feelings and potential romances?”

“I know they shouldn’t be forced, or forced down people’s throats. I know that two people have to actually get to know each other and learn to get along and interact like…well, people!” Yuj listed down, unaware of Lebreau’s growing grin that was borderline devious.

“Well it looks like you do know a thing or two! In that case, welcome aboard! You can help me with Lightning’s little admirer!”

Yuj did a double-take. “What? No way am I getting involved in your schemes!”

“First of all; it’s not a scheme. And secondly; why not?” Lebreau frowned at him, placing her hands to her hips in disapproval.

“Because I’m not suicidal; I value my life. I’m not gonna risk getting pummelled by Lightning Farron if she catches us interfering with her love life! And some guy’s love life.” Yuj exclaimed. He then cleared his throat and waved apologetically, when the nearest costumers turned their heads to look at him strangely.

The female barista huffed indignantly. “We’re not going to be interfering! We’re simply going allow things to continue on naturally and happen naturally. And all we’ll really be doing is giving them a little push in the right direction.

“… That’s still interfering.”

As the two bickered, Lightning just did her best to ignore them and continue with her serving the customers and keeping things going. Whatever it was Lebreau and Yuj were arguing about, they should leave until their break or once work was done.

Noctis watched her intently, mentally kicking himself for always chickening out whenever he made an attempt to try and talk to her. He couldn’t even get one word out; he’d freeze up.

“Come on. Just walk up to her,” He muttered to himself. “Walk up to her and ask her ‘Hey Lightning can we go out for dinner or something…’ No, that’s stupid…”

“Need anything?” Lightning’s voice asked from above.

Noctis nearly jumped and looked up too Lightning standing by his table, her expression neutral. He had to admit she looked good in a uniform; even a uniform of a café. His face flushed slightly but he cleared his throat.

“Uh…another peppermint mocha…?”

“Was that a question, or did you really want another peppermint mocha?” Lightning questioned, giving him a look.

Noctis coughed. “You always treat your customers this way?”

“Only if they kept coming over and looking as if they were spacing out constantly,” She retorted lightly.

His eyes widened and he glanced away. She noticed him coming in often? This was either really good, or really bad. And he wanted to be a good thing rather than the bad. But how to get the ball into his court?

A thump on his table snapped him from his thoughts and he saw a grande-sized peppermint mocha being placed in front of him. His usual order. Noctis glanced up at Lightning.

“You were spacing out again, so I got your drink. Didn’t think you’d stay stuck in your head for that long. And the process to make this takes a while, especially with more than one customer needing their orders.” Her deadpan stare told him she was serious.

“Had no idea.” He admitted and sighed. “Thanks.”

Lightning did not move and just stood there. “Why do you keep coming here?”

Noctis, having started on his drink, choked and coughed as the liquid and whipped cream caught in his throat. “Ah…! I…what…?”

Seeing that he was a little out of focus in the head, Lightning sighed in defeat. “Listen, I’m off work in a few minutes. Mind sticking around for a bit?”

“Wha— I mean… Yeah, sure. I guess. I got time.” He shrugged, trying to keep his cool. Hopefully she didn’t want to just punch him in the face for looking like a fool.

But he did do as she requested and sat in his usual seat until Lightning would come back out, her work uniform now changed to casual clothing. She had her bag over her shoulder as she approached Noctis again.

“Alright, come on. Let’s take a walk,” She said, nodding her head over to the door.

From the counter, Yuj and Lebreau watched the scene with quiet surprise. Though Yuj was glad that he was proven right in his sureness of things working out on their own. Unfortunately for him, this only spurred Lebreau on even more.

“See? They won’t need a ‘push’. They’re doing fine on your own!” Yuj exclaimed.

Lebreau chuckled. “Nah! They would totally need it! Maybe not now, but maybe later! And you’re gonna help along with this!”

“No I’m not! I didn’t agree to anything!”

Of course their bickering went on, even while the two continued their work.

Out of the caf��s range, Noctis found himself trying to find the right words to start off their conversation. Whatever that might be. He wanted to say something, anything! But most importantly, he wanted to ask her out on a date. Or at the very least, hopefully become friends rather than just simple classmates.

He struggled with himself internally and Lightning glanced at him. She was not sure if Noctis was aware of the amusing expressions he was making. That boy was so deep inside his own head, it was a wonder he did not bump into anything during their walk.

Deciding that she would need to take matters in her own hands.

“Mind telling me what got you so interested in Café NORA?”

Noctis looked confused. “Is it a crime to frequent a café and enjoy the food and drinks?”

Lightning raised an eyebrow. “You seriously expect me to believe that’s the only reason? You always run off with your friends to the arcades, and suddenly you suddenly decide a cozy little café is your scene? If that is the case, why aren’t your friends with you?”

Damn. She had she been aware of all that the entire time?

“Well…I thought a change of scene once in a while would be good. I mean I did end up liking the coffee and all. And the food’s good too…” He admitted.

“But…?” She coaxed.

“Come on Noct, this is your chance. Just say it already, damn it!” He scolded himself. “I thought of… Maybe…”

Lightning sighed. “Maybe…what? Get to the point.”

He looked so damn nervous, even if he did not notice he was being a little bit obvious with his expressions. It made him look slightly constipated. It was both amusing and a little irritating; he was choking up so much to the point that it was clear he would never be able to spit words out. Lightning she was wrong about that.

“I kinda kept wanting to talk to you,” Noctis admitted. “Something important.”

That was a start at least. Though Lightning wasn’t fond of beating around the bush. “What for? We go to the same school, you could’ve approached me then, or after. Work keeps me busy, and I can’t just idle around talking to a classmate.”

Noctis winced. “Because…it’s kinda…private.”

“Fine. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Noctis almost forgot how to breathe. Lightning patiently waited as he struggled with himself internally while trying to form whatever words he was attempting to get out. Hopefully he would not take all day until the sun went down and it was the day after.

Finally, his shoulders seemed to slump over in defeat. “I…wanted to…ask you out on a date! Ugh! You can punch me if you want.”

There was a long silence when Noctis braced himself for an impact to hit his face. When none came, he lifted his head to look at Lightning. She was giving him a blunt look, a hand on her hip. That sort of reaction was not something he had been expecting.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She said after a moment.

“What…?” He was taken aback.

Lightning smirk. “Was it so hard to say that?”

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda…”

“To answer you; sure. Why not. As long as you know a good steakhouse. That’s my condition,” Lightning said. Her tone had a teasing tinge to it.

It was still hard to believe but Noctis had to smile. She actually accepted his invitation for a date? Was he daydreaming or did he really get lucky. Either way, he was thankful. He had admired Lightning for a while; she was tough to get to know, but he did also see the good side to her.

For her part, Lightning had taken notice of Noctis as well. He may not be a shining example of…anything, really. But he was a good student with good grades. He was also polite and sometimes shy, though he seemed to have this habit of trying to seem unaffected, and cool. Trying to keep up an image.

But when Lightning was around, he seemed to forget himself. Even when he tried to keep his cool image. Something made her rather curious about him. Why not take the chance to know him? Right?

Noctis was still smiling and his hand hesitantly reached for hers.

Lightning moved away ever so slightly. “One step at a time, Princess.” She actually gave him a gentle smile.

“Right. Yeah, we can do that,” Noctis agreed. He still felt happy that he may be able to spent time with Lightning properly, even outside of school grounds. Hopefully they could learn more of each other as they went along.

Of course when they returned to Café NORA after school, once it was it Lightning’s next day of work, it was both at the same time. At that point, Lightning had allowed Noctis to take a hold of their hand in public, and though Noctis himself was not showy about it, he still felt pleased with himself. And for that, she was thankful that he was not some show-off.

Lebreau had been surprised, of course, and Yuj felt smug and reminded his colleague that he did mention how neither Noctis nor Lightning needed a push in the ‘right direction’. Yet, ever the stubborn romantic, Lebreau still denied a push was not needed.

For her part, Lightning ignored the gaping looks she got from her co-workers and went to the back to change into her work uniform, and Noctis went to his usual seat at the café.

He had given his friends another excuse as to why he couldn’t join them again. But this time his excuse was no longer some fib he concocted. He did not have to; Lightning had practically walked up to him and had bluntly announced her involvement with Noctis.

Surprisingly, his friends let him go easily. Probably planning on teasing him later, but were also happy to cheer for him in the background. Finally; he had been able to confront his crush with his affections.

Lebreau approached his table and grinned. “So…Noctis, was it?”

He looked up at her. “Uh, yeah?”

“How do you feel about having a part-time job here…?”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Not Alone

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: John, Scott, EOS

John makes a miscalculation with unexpected consequences.

Another @badthingshappenbingo​​​ this time with the square “Home Invasion” - with John (as requested by @such-a-random-rambler​).  A surprisingly light-hearted number this time, considering the challenge name...

I’m still taking prompts for non-Scott TAG characters for the other squares!  If you’d like to see what I’ve received already, head over to the Challenges>Bad Things Happen Bingo page on my blog but duplicate requests are fine, too!

John didn’t remember who decided this was a good idea, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had been past-him, approximately twenty-four hours previously.  That was unlike him – bad decisions got people killed so he’d learnt early on not to make them.  Always work with all available data to reach the optimum plan of action and proceed accordingly.  Maybe not simple, but certainly efficient.

He must have been more tired than he’d realised to make such a large error in calculation.  It was a flaw of supernova proportions that at least one of his siblings must have also noticed, but in true annoying little brother fashion, none of them had said anything, leaving him to dig his own grave.

“John!  What’s the kill switch for this virus!”

He put his head in his hands and pretended he didn’t hear Scott roaring in the kitchen section of the gravity ring.

Get Scott off the planet a while.  Give him a break from the stress of life and International Rescue by relocating him to Thunderbird Five where he could spend extended time away from younger brothers he refused to break down in front of – John was a long-standing confidante, the advantage of being second eldest.  Keep him out from under everyone’s feet while he was grounded, because a grounded Scott was a nightmare.

That was probably why none of the others had pointed out the flaw in John’s plan.  An escape from Scott at his most frustrated wasn’t something they’d willingly give up.

“John, your brother is attempting to destroy the bagel toaster.”

A week, they’d agreed. A week of Scott on Thunderbird Five, some nice brotherly time without little brothers interrupting every two seconds.

A week of Scott and EOS trying to kill each other.

How John had forgotten that Scott and EOS were both terrified of each other – and both manifested their fear as aggression – he had no idea.

“EOS, did you throw bagels at him?” he asked, quietly despairing.  It was one of her favourite pranks – harmless if annoying – but while John was now used to it, Scott…

Well, Scott was still stuck back when EOS was trying to kill them.  Launching projectiles at him was a bad idea.

“Analysis suggested that humour is often used in bonding,” she not-answered, telling John everything he needed to know.  He groaned, head still in hands.

“Don’t throw bagels at Scott,” he told her, wincing as the sound of his brother’s frustration made its way to his bunk.  “We want him to like you, remember?”  And trust, more importantly, but trust was going to be hard to cultivate if they kept winding each other up.

Why had he thought this was a good idea?

With another groan, he stood up and made his way through the gravity ring before Scott broke something. To think he’d been looking forwards to this.

“Scott, please don’t wreck my kitchen,” he sighed as he entered the compartment to see Scott banging on the top of the bagel maker with his good arm.

“I’m not!” Scott protested with all the righteousness of an eldest sibling before landing another hit.  John winced and hurried over to his side, catching his hand firmly.

“Scott,” he insisted. “If that breaks there’s no breakfast until it’s fixed and I, for one, don’t plan on spending the day fixing a perfectly functioning toaster.”

Scott scowled and pulled his hand back.  “Your pet virus corrupted it,” he grumbled, and John rolled his eyes.

“EOS isn’t a virus, Scott, and nor is she my ‘pet’.”  He cast a quick eye over the machine, but it didn’t seem like Scott had managed to damage it.

“I suppose it isn’t,” Scott grumbled darkly.  “If it was, you’d be able to control it.”

John knew better than to get into a debate with Scott about EOS when he was in a black mood.  There was a conversation there that needed to be had, but not now.  “Her.” Well, most of it wasn’t to be had now.  “EOS is female.”

“How is a virus a female?” Scott snapped.  “It’s just a jumble of numbers.”  Behind him, one of Thunderbird Five’s internal cameras ringed itself with red dots but EOS, thankfully, remained silent.  Hopefully she realised interrupting would do more harm than good.

“You don’t have any problems calling MAX ‘he’,” John observed, and watched Scott’s jaw stiffen as his teeth ground together, braced for the next comeback.  When Scott was wound up, logic wasn’t always an effective weapon against him.  Sometimes he just had to rant it out before he was open to listening to reason.

When the expected retort didn’t come, Scott stood stiffly in what was effectively space-rated civvies (because even though he was on Thunderbird Five he was firmly off duty) in the middle of the kitchen, John mentally ran through their exchange, trying to pinpoint the reason for the uncharacteristic- ah.

MAX.  The Aurora Generator.  Virgil.

The real reason Scott was off duty and effectively kicked off the planet by their younger siblings.

Colonel Casey – and therefore the GDF – had been told that Scott had been injured trying to secure the conductor in order to prevent the explosion.  While it wasn’t quite a bare-faced lie, it was hardly the whole truth.

He’d first wrenched his shoulder when he’d lost control of the pod and flipped it on the ice. Virgil had patched that up during their brief camp, only for him to jar the same arm again being flung from the top of the spire by the charge that had shot through him – John was grateful for their suits being able to redirect enough that only the inner electronics had fried, and not Scott himself.  Physically, Scott just had to take it easy for a few days.  The sling was for the Colonel’s benefit whenever she made contact, and Scott wore it with minimal complaint.

To anyone who knew Scott, that was a massive red flag.  Scott was incapable of ‘taking it easy’, and definitely refused to show weakness if it could at all be avoided.  It helped sell him being off duty to the GDF, but to his family – all well aware that it wasn’t as bad as it looked – it betrayed the deeper problem.

The only time Scott willingly showed one weakness was to hide another.

John wasn’t known for physical contact compared to his more tactile siblings, but he put a hand on Scott’s shoulder.  His brother stiffened, but didn’t shrug him off.

“Come on,” he coaxed, drawing his brother away from the kitchen, the topic of EOS dropped for the moment.  Scott followed, head down and reluctant.  He’d never give in so easily at home, but that was why he was up on Five, away from the brothers that looked up to him for strength.  John did, too, but John was older, saw more, and had never let Scott hide from him.  Up on Five, it was just Scott and John, alone together in a way that almost never happened ever since Virgil had been born.

There was only one bed on Thunderbird Five.  It was all she needed, most of the time; John generally didn’t have guests ‘overnight’. John sat down on it, and after a moment Scott joined him.  Neither of them spoke; John looked down past their feet to the view of Earth passing by before they slowly turned away to face the depths of space.  It was a calming view for him.

Scott, shoulder pressed lightly against his own, was never quite as comfortable in space.  Still, he too was looking out through the clear floor of the gravity ring.

They had a week before Scott went back home.  A week of Scott being technically off duty in the communications centre of International Rescue.  John had no illusions about Scott actually sitting back and doing nothing.  It wasn’t in his brother’s nature.  No matter that he was supposed to be unwinding and trying to relieve some of the piles of stress on his shoulders.

“What am I doing, John?”

He hadn’t expected Scott to address the issue so quickly, but that just proved how shaken up he was. Not pulling his eyes away from the starry view below his feet, he leaned into his brother’s shoulder just a little more, a subtle acknowledgement of his words.

That was all Scott needed.

“I don’t know how Dad did it,” he continued.  The arm closest to John shifted; if he looked, he knew he’d see Scott had his head in his hands – both of them, sling be damned.  John would have to check his shoulder later.  “He never gave up, always gave everything he had…” he trailed off for a moment, but John still didn’t interject.  He knew where this was going, knew what the difference between Dad and Scott was, but that wasn’t what Scott needed to hear.  Not yet.

This was why Scott was grounded, why he was up away from the world in Thunderbird Five.  As far as physical injuries went, Scott’s was minor, but the rescue had brought to light all the cracks behind the façade Scott tried to put up.  He pushed too hard, too fast, and there was only one person still alive that he’d ever properly open up to.

John wasn’t naïve enough to think that Scott would spill everything going on in his head; long-term confidante he might be, but he was still Scott’s little brother.  It didn’t matter that John saw everything on Tracy Island – more than he ever let his brothers know, and he’d had to disconnect some of his usually-open links before Scott arrived to hide the fact that he constantly kept an eye on them even when they thought they were alone – Scott wouldn’t tell him everything.  But it would be more than he’d tell anyone else.

Sure enough, when Scott started again, it was painfully obvious that he was choosing his words.  John listened, anyway, hearing the words he said and the insecurities he didn’t.  Not being good enough, never being good enough, failure.  Scott never said as such, but he didn’t need to; John knew his brother well enough.

“You need a break,” he said finally, once Scott had said all he was going to.  Scott sighed, deep enough that John could feel his shoulder shift.

“I know,” he admitted, words that would never have passed his lips before the Aurora Generator and the groundwork Virgil laid, not even to John.  “But I can’t.”

“That’s why you’re here,” John reminded him, pressing against him for just a moment before letting the pressure fade away to nothing as he stood up.  It was late, Tracy Island time.  Thunderbird Five only had one bed.  “Get some sleep.”  He didn’t need it, not yet, and while the bed could take the two of them if they curled up together tight enough, it made more sense for them to sleep in shifts.

John sincerely hoped Scott and EOS wouldn’t tear each other – or Thunderbird Five – to pieces while he took his naps later.

Scott didn’t protest, aware of both the bed situation and John’s different sleep schedule.  “Wake me if you need me,” was all that he said, and John made a noise of agreement before leaving the segment.

The first thing he did was disable the emergency alarms to the sleeping quarters.  Off duty or not, Scott would come running the moment he heard that there was a call.  John dealt with them solo all the time – it was his job, after all – and now he had EOS to streamline things further.  He wouldn’t need Scott.

“I do not understand why your brother insists on referring to me incorrectly despite repeated reminders,” EOS said suddenly, the moment he finished.  Glancing up at the camera she was currently inhabiting, because dealing with EOS required visual cues rather than audial, he grimaced.  Her lights were yellow, not outright hostile, but not pleased, either.  “I understand that I am not liked, but he does not respect me, either.  Why did you invite him up here?”

There was nothing he could say that would appease her.  Explaining Scott’s situation, exposing the weaknesses and fears he had shared knowing John would never tell, would damage his relationship with his brother irreparably, and he couldn’t do that, not even to teach EOS.

“Scott doesn’t like change,” he said instead.  Not a lie, but a broad enough truth.  “It takes him time to accept.”  Scott was good at adapting, had learnt the skill far too young when he’d ended up for all intents and purposes parentless with four younger brothers to raise, but adapting on demand was not the same as accepting the reason for the adaptation.

“None of your other brothers continue to refer to me as a virus,” she pointed out.  Yellow lights flickered.  “Why is he different?”

Because he’s scared of you.  Because if you wanted to kill me he knows he couldn’t stop you.  Because he couldn’t even tell I was in danger when you impersonated me.  You almost made some of his worst nightmares come true.

“Humans are all unique,” he said out loud.  “Every one of us learns and applies our knowledge at different paces; there’s no set formula for it.”

“That sounds very inefficient,” EOS commented.  Her lights flickered again.  “And very inconvenient.”

“It is,” he agreed whole-heartedly.  “But it’s a quirk of humanity we have to accept and work around.”

“When will your brother stop insulting me?” she asked.  “You are his brother; you must know his unique formula.”

John sighed, glancing back at the closed doors separating him from his hopefully-but-probably-not-sleeping brother.  “It isn’t that simple,” he tried to explain, walking further away from Scott.  Overhead the camera whirred and followed him.  “There isn’t a formula for a person’s actions. It changes every time; there’s no quantitative time frame.”

“That means there is a possibility that Scott Tracy will never accept me?”  Lights flashed red, unhappy and threatened.  Hunted.  John felt a flash of fear; he trusted EOS, but if she and Scott never reached an understanding, what would she do?

“He will do.”  John would make sure of it, because he had to protect EOS but he had to protect Scott, too.  Besides, Scott trusted him.

“How can you be certain when there is no reliable data?”

“Because he’s my brother,” he said.  “I know him. If there was no chance, he would never have let you stay.”

“It was not his decision to make.”

John remembered the veiled order, the you know what has to be done.  Scott could have overridden him, ordered the destruction of Thunderbird Five, and Alan would have obeyed.  He hadn’t, but he could have done.  Scott had made his decision then about EOS’s fate, even if he didn’t yet know it himself.

Now they just had to at least manage to be cordial to each other – a task they were both making out to be far harder than need be.

A distress call chose that moment to come in, and John let the matter drop.  It was something the two of them would have to handle between themselves.  He just hoped he’d have a Thunderbird left by the time they were done.

Three days into Scott’s week off-planet, multiple rescues and occasional interference from a brother who refused to sit back and do nothing, even if all he could do was instruct over comms while John scavenged up data, Virgil called to check in on their older brother’s progress.  Dishevelled and about ready to tear his hair out, John dived into a section away from both Scott and EOS.

“It’s awful,” he told his younger brother, whose face immediately took on a look of panicked concern. “Get me out of here.  Please.”

“Get you out of there?” Virgil asked, confusion edging in over the other emotions as he registered John’s desperate plea.  “What do you mean?  If Scott’s not okay-”

“Scott’s fine,” John interrupted.  He was. More than fine, in fact.  A chaotic headache on a brother who hadn’t lived in such close proximity with his big brother for years and had forgotten how terrible it could be.

And now there were two of them.

“Then… what’s awful?” The concern had all but faded away, Virgil’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “If Scott’s okay, then that’s good, right?”

“No.  Well, yes, of course it’s good.  More than good.”  He was babbling.  That was bad. He was the Voice Who Answers, the one on the end of every call.  He shouldn’t babble.  “But they’re tag-teaming me!”

“They?  Who- oh.  EOS?” Virgil’s frown got deeper.  “I thought Scott and EOS didn’t get on?”

“They didn’t,” John agreed. “Then they realised they had something in common.”  Waking up sometime around the forty-eight hour mark into Scott’s visit to find the pair of them talking politely to each other – EOS’s lights green and Scott with a small grin on his face – had been fantastic.  No more feuding, no more ‘virus’ accusations and red lights turning his Thunderbird – his home – into a warzone.  John had been delighted.

John had been a fool.

“Something in common?” Virgil asked.  “John, what happened?”

“EOS’s first priority is self-preservation,” he explained.  “I promised to protect her when I invited her to stay, so apparently, her idea of self-preservation is now protecting me.”

“And that’s a problem?”  Virgil stared at him.  “John, you know we’re always worried about you being alone up there.  That’s why you’re always on the wire with us.  If EOS is looking out for you, then that’s a good thing.”

John buried his face in his hands.  Virgil was missing the point entirely.

“Scott agrees with you,” he said into his fingers, voice muffled but still clear enough to be picked up by the comm.  “Scott also thinks this is a good thing.”

“Of course he does,” Virgil shrugged.  “That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

Still missing the point.

“He’s teaching her to be a smother hen,” John hissed.

Virgil laughed like the annoying little brother he occasionally could be.  John had been hoping for a slightly more sympathetic reaction.

“You’re a big boy, Johnny,” he grinned, ignoring John’s eyeroll at the despised nickname.  Virgil was spending too much time around Gordon.  “You’ll survive.”

“John!”  Scott’s voice reverberated through the gravity ring. Thunderbird Five had never felt quite so small before.  “Where are you?”  John looked up at Virgil, still openly amused, and then towards the door Scott would no doubt be walking through within the next few seconds.  Time to employ a time-honoured tactic: playing his brothers off against each other.

“Virgil called,” he commented waving a hand towards the hologram as Scott inevitably walked in.  “Why don’t you two catch up while I go get dinner ready?”  Scott had yet to get the hang of cooking in space, and he didn’t give either brother a chance to protest before he ducked out of the segment.  Hopefully Virgil would snap back into medic mode and grill Scott about his physical state – and probe his mental one – before they started discussing Scott’s new protégé.

In the meantime, now that the opportunity had finally presented itself, John had damage control to do.

“EOS.”

Instantly, the nearest camera whirred into life and followed him to the kitchen – he did need to get dinner, after all.  “Is everything alright, John?  Your blood pressure and heart rate are both slightly elevated and your voice is modulating outside of recorded average range.  Do you need assistance with anything?”

John was going to murder Scott.

“No, EOS, I’m fine. But we need to talk about what Scott’s telling you.”

“Scott is assisting me with identifying signs of stress, illness and other afflictions that cause sub-optimal performance,” EOS informed him, her lights flashing green.

John sighed.  “I do not need my vital signs analysed constantly,” he protested.  “I’m glad you and Scott are getting on now, but you don’t need to follow everything he says.”

“I understand,” EOS told him.  It was probably supposed to be a reassurance, but she ruined it by continuing with “Scott told me you’d say that.”

“Of course he did.” Scott had raised four younger brothers, including him.  He was, therefore, unfortunately wise to the majority of their tricks and could predict their reactions with a reasonable accuracy.  John cast his mind to find something, anything, he could use to get EOS to back off.  “Did he also tell you to report every deviation to him?”

“Scott requested that I keep him informed whenever your vitals leave normal parameters,” EOS replied, and John groaned.

“Okay, no, that’s not happening,” he said firmly.  “EOS, you are not reporting every fluctuation to Scott.”

“Scott said that you would not like it.”  No, Scott was not defeating him on this.

“EOS, most fluctuations are normal and no reason for concern,” he ploughed on.  “Informing Scott of false positives won’t help. Look up the parable ‘the boy who cried wolf’.”

“There is no wolf in this situation, and both you and Scott are considered to be legally adults in all cultures who define adulthood as reaching a certain age,” EOS observed, and John rubbed at his face.

“It’s a parable, EOS. Look it up.”

“Very well.”  Her lights shifted to white and he was left in silence for a minute or so, which he used to tackle dinner.  Reheating pre-packaged food wasn’t exactly difficult, but retaining as much taste as possible was a skill John had down to a fine art at this point.

“John, I do not understand.” He glanced up at the camera, still with white lights surrounding the lens.  “Why do humans stop responding to repeated calls for assistance?”

“Because they get tired of reacting only to find they didn’t need to,” John explained.  “So, for example, if you were to keep telling Scott every time my vitals moved a little outside your expected parameters, if it’s always natural and of no concern he’ll eventually think that will always be the case and stop reacting.”

Her lights flashed yellow for a moment.

“So how do I maintain urgency?” she inquired.  “I understand that Scott would be distressed if he overlooked a concern.”

Distressed was putting it lightly.  Scott would be devastated.

“Only report if it’s serious,” he answered.  “Loss of coherency, loss of consciousness, that sort of thing.”

“I do not think Scott will agree with that,” EOS pointed out, and John rolled his eyes, because no, his smother hen of an older brother would not.

“Talk to him about it,” he suggested, hoping Scott would see some sense.  Otherwise, he’d have to give him a not-so-subtle shove.  “And tell me what you two decide.”  If he was going to be constantly monitored like he monitored his brothers (the irony was not lost on him), he was going to be aware of it.

“I will.”  The topic was dropped and John retrieved their now-edible food from the kitchen.

Surprisingly, it was Scott that next brought up the subject, several hours, one meal and two rescues later.

“You compared surveillance on your welfare to cry wolf?” he asked, throwing himself onto the bed, where John had been attempting to read a book to destress.  Not much reading had happened since Scott arrived.  “Really, John?”

“She was under the impression you wanted her to report every little fluctuation,” John retorted, not looking away from the pages.  “None of us have time for that.  I’d rather you didn’t have her reporting on me at all.”

“No chance,” Scott told him firmly.  “Living in space is dangerous, John.  If something happens…  We need as much warning as we can get to reach you in time.”  John’s mind flashed to a blurred red and white shape before darkness, and waking up a moment later to Alan’s worried face in Thunderbird Three’s cockpit.  From the look on Scott’s face, he wasn’t the only one remembering that close call.

“It’s never been a problem before,” he pointed out, but Scott shook his head.

“We didn’t have the capacity before.  EOS gives us that capacity, and it would make me feel a hell of a lot better about you being up here if we used it,” his older brother admitted.  “You’re not alone up here now, but EOS still listens to you more than me.”

“It wasn’t long ago that you wouldn’t talk to her,” John reminded him, selfishly glad that despite their sudden and intense camaraderie, EOS still prioritised him.

“She nearly killed you,” Scott retorted.

“A misunderstanding,” John corrected.

“Doesn’t matter.” Scott shook his head again.  “If you’d died, you’d still have been gone, misunderstanding or not.”  There was pain in his voice, and John abandoned his book to look at his brother.  “You trust her, and I agree she means it when she says keeping you safe is a priority, but I can’t forget what nearly happened, John.  What if your line had snapped?  The airlock blew?  Different cause, same result.  If EOS can help me get here faster, alert me sooner, if something happens, then dammit I’m going to take every extra second she can give.”

Scott looked tired, worn, and John abruptly remembered the whole reason he was grounded and on Thunderbird Five in the first place – the stress of command, of responsibility.  He’d mistaken that for just being all the back to back missions, three younger brothers in the thick of it and more and more people calling for their help as their reputation continued to grow.  The idea that John himself, up in Thunderbird Five and only Brains’ genius between him and certain death, had also been one of those weights had slipped his mind at some point.  Thunderbird Five was his home now, and while he knew the dangers of living in space, he’d become desensitised to the risks.

Apparently, Scott hadn’t.

“Okay,” he agreed, leaning so that they were shoulder to shoulder again.  “I won’t stop EOS from reporting to you.”  The smile that spread across Scott’s face was one of relief.  “But it won’t be every tiny, insignificant fluctuation.  Leave it to when there’s actually a danger, not when I’m panicking because you stopped answering your comms.  Again.”

Scott at least had the grace to look slightly sheepish at that.

“We’ll come up with the parameters together,” he agreed, though.  “You, me and EOS.  You can’t say I’m overreacting then.”

John grinned.  “You can’t help being such a smother hen,” he teased.  Scott swatted at him, but there was a grin on his face, too, and they fell into a companionable silence.

He’d just returned to his book when Scott broke it.

“John… I’m glad you’re not alone up here anymore.”  The grin was gone, replaced with heartfelt sincerity.

John glanced over at the door separating the sleeping segment from the next one, where EOS no doubt lurked. He was used to being alone.  Thunderbird Five wasn’t designed for cohabitation, Scott’s constant presence making her seem so much smaller.  Even EOS, despite not having a physical presence to crowd him, changed something about his ‘bird, and that was before Scott started training her up to be her own smother hen.  Life in space was never going to be the same again.  But…  “So am I.” John was fine with that.