#but helping last minute is so. deeply chaotic.

[chilapis]

Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.

[dira333]

This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader

there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.

Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu

“Where’s Kageyama?”

The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen. 

“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”

- Meanwhile -

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”

“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.

“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering. 

“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”

“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”

“Karasuno.”

“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”

“First. Your serve-”

“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”

Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little. 

“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”

“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.

To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.

“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”

“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”

He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”

“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.

“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.

“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”

“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”

Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.

“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”

“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

Karasuno wins. So do you. 

No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.

“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”

“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”

“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”

“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”

“Exactly. You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”

“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”

“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face. 

“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”

“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.

“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”

And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.

Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.

“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”

“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”

“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.

You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.

But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…

Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.

Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.

College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load. 

He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old. 

“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived. 

He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.

“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”

“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”

He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”

Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”

You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”

Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.

“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”

“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.

“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”

Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”

“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he’s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.

“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.

You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.

“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.

That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.

You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.

Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball. 

“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.

Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker. 

He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.

You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway. 

But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend. 

One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.

If only you could let yourself have this. 

But does he even think about you that way?

X

“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”

He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.

“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Even if it’s with a girl?”

Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.

“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”

Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.

He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass. 

“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”

“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”

“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”

“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”

“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”

Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”

“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”

“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”

Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.

“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”

“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.

His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.

Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.

Yours is different altogether.

The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.

Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.

Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.

You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.

Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.

When he has to leave you hug him goodbye. 

For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.

For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.

But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.

“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question. 

Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend. 

He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.

He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats. 

You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because. 

Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.

“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.

But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it? 

After all, he’s so much younger than you. 

Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?

Your hand fits perfectly in his.

Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.

You’re real and you like him, still.

“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.

“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat. 

Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.

But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.

He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.

X

“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”

“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.

“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”

You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”

“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in. 

“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.

“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”

“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.

Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.

You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.

From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late. 

Tobio has already turned away.

He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.

It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.

Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.

But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.

“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”

Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.

If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.

“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.

“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.

“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”

“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”

You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.

“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”

His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.

You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them. 

And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.

“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”

“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”

“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.

You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.

“Are you jealous, Tobio?”

“Should I be?”

You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?

He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”

Your mouth turns dry.

“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”

“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.

“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”

“Can’t we talk now?”

And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.

There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.

As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.

“Where’s Kageyama?”

You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”

“Good and good. Our last match-”

“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”

“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”

Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”

“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”

Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.

“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”

“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”

“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”

Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”

“I do. They are adorable.”

Tip me?

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Harry Styles x Wife!Reader

summary: Harry’s final show is over, and now the aftermath is hitting.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: crying, mentions of pregnancy (I couldn’t help it, sorry 👉🏻👈🏻), and dad-to-be!Harry, fluff, soft!reader, soft!Harry, more crying, just fluffness, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I only could watch parts of the livestream and saw videos on Twitter, and because I was so emotional over this, I had to write something. This is my first time writing in a while, so please bear with me, thaaaaanks

* * *

YN would have to lie if she told anybody her eyes were entirely dry over the course of his final show. No one would believe her anyway because the internet was full of evidence that she certainly had been crying—she had been a never-ending waterfall from the minute the intro had started, and Harry arrived on stage.

Maybe her hormones were already more chaotic and over the top than she had anticipated.

But seeing him falling to his knees, overwhelmed by all the emotions crashing down on him, seeing his loyal fans in numbers of thousands gathered to celebrate him and his last night on tour, also took her in. A moment after, she had found herself in the embraces of Anne and Gemma, all three women watching the man they loved so deeply and dearly doing what he loved the most while the venue cheered for him. It was an otherworldly moment, YN was sure of it. Her heart ached in astonishing proudness, in overwhelming love and devotion, but also in sympathy because the woman already knew how hard this was for Harry. He just loved his work just as much as he loved her. But she would be ready to catch him from falling and build him up again if he needed it.

Apparently, Harry’s goal tonight was to make this even more emotional than it already was, to ingrain it in her memory for all the years ahead of them, as he stood again and slowly, still in awe, walked back to the microphone stand, the Love Band in his back. YN only could wipe away the last fallen tears, her head resting against Anne’s shoulder, feeling Gemma’s head resting on hers, before Harry’s next words let new salty oceans well up in her already red eyes.

“This-this tour was the biggest adventure so far in my life, and-and I will be forever grateful for the experiences I was fortunate enough to have, thanks to all of you. I will never forget that. Never. But now—“ His still watery eyes searched through the crowds until he seemingly found her, a knowing smile stretching over his lips. “Now, I’ll aboard the grandest adventure of a lifetime, feeling prepared enough not to make a fool out of myself, for not letting this gorgeous, gorgeous woman—“ He pointed in her direction, and the fans screamed as some of them seemed to realize what he was telling them. “—down and disappoint her. You helped me to grow over the past two years, and becoming a dad isn’t so frightening anymore.” Now, everyone caught up to it, the venue boomed and buzzed with excitement, and YN couldn’t hold back the pent-up tears and the smile appearing on her face.

This really was a final show to behold.

“Thank you to all of you. I might be gone for a while, but I’ll come back with something magical. I promise. Stay true, stay wild, stay kind. Remember everything will be alright.”

* * *

It took almost two hours until YN saw Harry rounding the corner and walking toward her in their hotel room. She had already gotten ready for the night, had ordered dinner for them, and got the place as cozy as possible. They wouldn’t stay long here before finally heading to Harry’s Italian sanctuary, reveling in the endless amounts of free and uninterrupted time together, distressing from this incredible tour, and preparing everything for the new addition to their small family.

“Hey,” she whispered as Harry wordlessly sank to his knees in front of the bed, kneeling between her legs and resting his head against her chest. YN could hear him humming in contentment as her fingers started to card through his still-damp hair, not caring for the sweat clinging to him. “You were incredible. I am so, so proud.” She continued to whisper praise after praise, interrupted only by soft kisses to the top of Harry’s head until she felt his shoulders shake under her loving hands and the quiet sobs pressed out against her top. “Oh, baby…” Tightly, they held onto one another, feeling each other as closely as possible while he drenched her shirt in much-needed tears and never let go of her.

YN didn’t care a millisecond for her clothes and let him cry until the only sounds inside the hotel room were his heavy, shaky breaths and her soothing voice, whispering sweet nothings into his soft curls, against his forehead, his temple. She felt his strong hands on her back, his long fingers burying into the soft fabric of her shirt, which had been once his a long time ago. Not able to stop, YN continued to press kisses to every spot she could reach and gently guided him through the emotional turmoil of the aftermath as best as she could.

After some time, Harry inhaled deeply before a long, deep sigh released it again, his body now unmoving resting against hers, slowly relaxing in her embrace. In one moment, he was like warmed clay under her hands, molding perfectly against her, and in the next, his hands had wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her wordlessly into the adjacent bathroom, gently placing her on the bench next to the shower. YN knew he needed her close, even though he stepped under the warm water stream alone at first. Without so much as a second thought, she discarded the clothes, ignored the fact that she had already showered earlier, and stepped right behind him into the glass cabin.

Hands softly, lovingly, glided over his hips before arms wrapped themselves around it, a face pressed against his back, fingers slowly tracing every single dark inked line on warm skin. Featherlike kisses flew over his back, and she could hear him sigh again, still not saying a word, still contemplating the last hours. Another heavy, shaky inhale was the sign of the next set of tears, and now, he turned in her arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her as closely as possible to hold onto something in the sea of overwhelming emotions.

“It’s okay, love. Let it out. I’m here,” YN could only mumble against his shoulder, feeling somewhat helpless and on the verge of crying herself while the hormones started to run havoc inside her once again. But she never had liked seeing him upset or even crying, to begin with, too empathetic not to be fazed by it. Most times, she had cried alongside him until they laughed under tears which had always changed the mood to something brighter. But now, YN felt it wasn’t her place to cry along, so she bottled it up, forcing the traitorous tears down and let her hand find his cheek to gently caress it with the pad of her thumb.

Harry mumbled something inaudible against her neck, grabbing her tighter than before. “Hm? What was that?” YN asked quietly, her words almost drowned by the still-running shower. “Don’t think I’m mourning this tour more than I want to spend time with you,” he repeated himself and pulled his head back to let their foreheads meet again. “My career isn’t more important than you. Or the family we’re starting.” Blinking stunned, YN softly furrowed her brows, slowly shaking her head. “I’d never think that,” she finally whispered, not sure where this came from all of a sudden. Her thumbs wiped away the remaining tears. “There wasn’t a single moment in the past eight years where I felt like a second choice. I never thought you prioritized your career over me. So… Never think that. Okay? We know we’re loved without measure, beyond compare, H.”

At that, Harry started to smile, eyes still watery, and placed one of his hands over the place where his second true love was safely growing. “Thank you, sunflower.” It was only a whisper, voice filled with wonder, as he looked down at the woman who had decided he was worthy enough for her love all those years ago and who had grown alongside him. And now she gifted him the most precious thing he could ever ask for: fatherhood with the woman he loved more than anything else at his side.

YN smiled up at him and let Harry kiss her softly. “Nothing to thank me for, love. It’s my job. I’ll always be here to catch you, just as I have always done.“ Mumbling against his lips, she couldn’t let go of him, but soon, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and Harry lovingly dried her hair, always watching her through the mirror above the sink with a loving expression. She watched him just as closely, seeing that one familiar spark of inspiration lighting up in his mesmerizing eyes, but he contained himself. YN couldn’t have any of that. “You can go and do your magic, y’know? Dinner should be here soon, and the little bean and I can entertain ourselves.” But she should’ve known better and allowed Harry to pull her back against his chest. “The music can wait. I need this. Need you. Time with you. Wanna talk about anything and everything. Want to talk to the little bean. I want to have dinner with my wife on the balcony. I want to sleep in with her tomorrow before we head out to the villa.”

Sometimes, YN couldn’t comprehend her luck, couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for someone to love another human so deeply. It was like a miracle.

Grinning, she let both brows wander up in question. “Have you ever thought about telling your fans that the Harry Styles is not only becoming a dad but is also a married man?” A chuckle escaped them at that, and she still wondered how they had been so successful in keeping secrets from the world. “Maybe after coming back,” he continued to chuckle as he bent down and kissed her right shoulder, his thumbs now sweeping over her skin like soft feathers.

The moment of contentedly looking at one another through the slightly fogged-up mirror was over as the sound of knuckles against the wooden hotel room door echoed through their rooms. Harry bent down once again, his index finger resting under her chin and turning her face to capture her lips in another kiss. He just couldn’t get enough of her. “I’ll set up dinner, and you’ll get cozy again, sunflower.”

And with that, he ventured out of the bathroom, leaving a smiling YN behind.

* * *

As usual: Thanks for reading, folks <3 If you like my work, I’d be very happy if you reblog it because reblogs are super great! And I love to hear your thoughts, so hit me up whenever and however you like

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part six —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this was longer but i decided to break it up sorry :p

The last glimpse of civilization you had was a chaotic one.

It was the first day of the outbreak.

Freshly infected running around. Bodies scattered in the streets like dead flies. Screaming. Paul grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the treeline. Your nephew shrieking in your sister’s arms. It’s funny how trauma likes to grab hold of the minute details. You can also recall seeing a bus pass by with an ad for some superhero movie. You had planned on seeing it. The bus crashed into a house and the ad was licked by flames.

Paul was always the one to make the trips to pharmacies and markets. He was the one who wielded a gun, not you. You were the one to stay behind, fortify the fence, and watch over the two broken members of your family.

Society's dust— that is what you leave Ghost’s territory for.

You know you need to.

You wait for your period to end.

Freshly spilled blood is not a scent you want to carry. Greys are drawn to it like flies to rot. Something you learned the hard way once during a hunt with Paul. They were able to catch your scent from a further distance than usual because of it.

To your relief, Ghost lets you look at his map.

Of course, you can’t take it with you.

“Jus’ memorize it,” he grumbles under his breath.

So the evening before you venture out, you study the map of Northern England. Ghost brought out a whole stack of them from the room you’re certain is his. You notice a map of the European continent on top, briefly catching a glimpse of a black circle drawn in the middle somewhere, but he is quick to move it underneath the pile.

You focus on the one you need.

There is a black dot to indicate where their camp is amid the forest. Some 20 kilometers south is the closest city. Or village rather. Ribchester. Maybe that is a safer bet than going by yourself to a big city like Manchester. You may have a bow and knife and some strength, but you don't have a car or guns like he does. Or companions coming with you.

Blue helps you turn your pillowcase into a strapped bag with some scissors. You need something to carry what you find. Ghost isn't willing to let you leave with his backpack. Bitterly, you get it. It’s a useful item.

The next morning, you feel as prepared as you can be. You wake up earlier than usual, before Blue has the chance to poke inside your shed with Grim. You eat a big breakfast of two dried squirrels. You have a third one to take with you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Blue picks at her breakfast as she sits beside you at the table. Her lips twist around thoughtfully.

You glance between her and Ghost. His stare is unreadable like usual. Dark, stoic, and hiding under lowered brows. You wonder what he thinks— if he would be secretly relieved if you don't make it back alive. Probably. He could get rid of you without Blue pointing the blame at him.

"Medicine is important. I need to find my own.”

We can’t risk sneaking anymore, you would say if he wasn’t right there. But by the way she slides her blue eyes to discreetly meet yours, you think she gets the hint.

"Just be careful, okay?" You nod. "And remember—" she lifts a finger, "—you have to shoot those fucks in the brain."

"I know. I've been practicing my aim a bit."

The smile you offer is only half-there. The truth is, you are risking your life with this. Part of you wonders how deeply she has processed that.

Despite her lips appearing more chewed-through than usual, they give a wary smile in return.

“Yeah, we could hear you hitting the trees. Right, Ghost?"

He hums low, but characteristically, doesn't have much to say about you.

But when you head for the cabin door after eating, his firm hand surprises you, gloved and skeletal. It wraps around your bicep and brings you to a halt before you can step outside. Heat spreads through his glove and the layers of your clothes. You turn around just as a metal object is silently offered to your chest. Ghost holds your stare before you look down at what he is giving you.

It's the revolver. The one they collected from that man.

The gun with only one cartridge.

"Thanks."

You bite your cheek to hide the dry tone, slipping the revolver into your coat pocket. Maybe it will come in handy. At least he now trusts you enough not to immediately point it at him or her.

Blue is the one to follow you out to the gate of their camp.

"I hope you find something good."

"Me, too."

"You know, Ghost and I only went on one trip that I can remember," she says as she unlocks the bolts for you.

"Yeah?"

"To get him more ammo from a military base," she explains with a wave of her hand. "It was pretty close, though. He says that we went on one other trip back to Manchester when things first happened, but he carried me on his back the whole time so I don't remember much except for all the loud sounds.”

This part she adds quietly: "Think I closed my eyes for most of it."

"I would have closed my eyes, too, Blue.”

The next glimpse of civilization you get is a desolate one.

Again, you are on your own. Though, maybe you’ve been alone this whole time in a way.

It is that weird time between winter and spring when the air is crisp but the sun is bright. You hope to complete the trip in one day, which gives you about nine hours. You walk and walk, leaving Ghost's familiar territory behind until the trees become new to you again. You’ve never gone south before. You stop by a creek to drink some water along the way. By high noon, you exit the forest for the first time in five years.

You can see it. Overgrown shrubs and dry vines that crawl over cracked concrete. A road. A billboard arches over with a peeled ad for shaving cream, the woman’s face looking mangled. Your bow is poised as you follow the highway towards the village, recalling a time when you used to take the bus ride down this very route to visit your sister’s home. You liked watching the trees and rolling hills pass through the window as you tucked your ears under headphones.

It is so strange.

The air is quiet with abandonment.

Briefly, you ache for a world that once existed and the life you once lived. Car rides. Music whenever you wanted. Drunk outings on the weekends when you were supposed to be studying for nursing school. Hope for a family of your own someday.

But you have to ignore all that to stay focused on the present. Now, life is whittled down to basic needs and protecting yourself the best you can.

The village soon appears as stone buildings with unkempt wisteria scaling the sides. Abandoned cars haphazardly parked throughout the streets. You keep your guard up and your nose flared as you approach. There is a faint, awful scent that looms in the air, but it is not strong enough to cause concern. Not yet.

A pharmacy.

You need to find one.

If you want to make it back to their camp by nightfall, then you can only waste about an hour or two here. You could spend the night in a tree and trek the 20 kilometers tomorrow, but sleeping in a branch is even more unpleasant than your shed and it is risky. You were willing to do it when you had no other choice, but what if some unfriendly people find you this time? Perhaps even unfriendlier than the threat of Ghost's knife to your neck.

An hour is killed just searching for the pharmacy.

You roam the empty streets.

Finally, you catch sight of the faded sign and your heart leaps. But the excitement fades away when your nose and eyes detect the group of Greys just outside the building in an empty parking lot. Their pale eyes aren’t pointed at you yet, so you move behind a crumpled car for cover. If you had gotten any closer, they surely would've smelled your human flesh.

You take a deep breath. How many are there?

Carefully, you poke your head out just an inch to survey the threat. Six of those fucks. That is doable given the range.

The last time you ran into Greys, you had no choice but to run because of the bow Ghost stepped on. This time, you can kill them off with the bow carved by his hands.

You are quick with it. You stand and release arrow by arrow. Four of the six are headshots. You aren't perfect. The last two receive arrows through their shoulders, but this type of wound means nothing to a Grey. It is their brains that are infected with the virus, just like Blue said.

These two begin running towards you, now catching a whiff of your scent.

You climb on top of the car. Hitting a running target is far trickier. You go for the faster one first, using two more arrows before hitting the skull, grey chunks of brain splattering onto the concrete. The slower one just barely reaches the car before you finish it off, the closer distance sharpening this final hit.

The pharmacy is reachable now.

As you run over, you gather the used arrows. Precious ammo. You pull them out of their bodies with a twist and a putrid squelch.

When you push through the doors to the pharmacy, you almost choke. The shelves— they are empty. You breeze through every aisle, eyes and hands seeking anything that could be left, but there is nothing. You check the back. You check the shelves behind the counter.

Empty, empty, empty.

“Oh, fuck me,” you croak. Hot tears spill down your cheeks.

You half expected this.

But you’ve come all this way.

You need something.

There must be somewhere else you can look.

The cars maybe. Most people used to keep med kits somewhere inside. There is a slight chance that one could’ve been forgotten. It is worth a try.

You keep moving, not wanting to return with an empty bag. The white sun hangs high. The dry air turns your tear-stained cheeks sticky. You pick up rocks to begin breaking the windows of the abandoned cars, poking your arm inside to undo the locks, and rummaging through the glove compartments.

CDs, magazines, condom wrappers.

Nothing.

“Please, please.”

You make it down the street like this, checking every single one. Distracted, you shatter the glass of a white sedan without noticing the shadow laying in the backseat.

Fingers wrap around your wrist as you reach for the inner lock.

A maggot-filled mouth lurches for the flesh of your hand.

An arrow won't work here. With a cry, you use your free hand to grab the revolver from your pocket and shoot its head. The sound echoes. The single bullet burrows right between its eyes. The Grey writhes for a moment before going limp against the seat.

Panting, you have to pry the bony fingers off your wrist.

Again, you search the glove compartment. In this car where the stench is thick enough to sicken you, a med kit and a Twix bar fall into your hands.

“Fuck— thank you.”

You stash both into your homemade bag.

You could leave now, but you are itching for some antibiotics. The kit will help you clean wounds without Ghost's help, but it won’t save you if you develop an infection.

The next idea you have is to check a house.

By the look of the sky, you can fit in at least two quick searches. You run over to the next street and kick at the front door of the first one you see. Nothing but knocked-over furniture and torn wallpaper. The bathroom cabinet is empty.

The next one you fight inside is decorated with furniture that smells like faded perfume. The first room you check is a bedroom. In the center, a full set of bones lies on the bed, void of any meat after God knows how long its been there. You try not to look at it. On the floor lies a pile of clothes. You could use some more, still dressed in the ones Ghost found you in. You don't even look at them, just grab what you can fit in your bag and move on to the bathroom.

Here, beside a pair of molded dentures, you find two half-full bottles of pills.

Amoxicillin.

Paracetamol.

You cry some more.

It's not much, but it is enough for now.

Your muscles are fatigued by the time you make it back.

You reek of sweat. It is a long walk. You run into a few more Greys but manage them. You eat the squirrel you brought.

Darkness covers the forest just when you spot the camp's fence in the distance. Relief. You actually did it. Some pride breathes into your tired lungs.

As you get closer, you make out two silhouettes leaving the gate. One is a girl who you tiredly smile at the sight of, and the other is a bulky tank.

You leap over the trench.

But when your boots land on the other side, the end of a rifle pokes your breastbone and prevents you from getting any closer.

"Ghost."

You can't help but shout at him, eyes widening. He is pointing a gun at you? You were just beginning to think he could tolerate you enough to not threaten murder anymore. The memory of your first encounter resurfaces.

"It's just me! What the hell are you doing?"

Panic finds you once again. Your chest rises and falls under his gun’s touch. You glance at Blue, who tries to get near you, but he sticks out an arm to keep her away.

"Dad," Blue groans, "Do you really have to— ”

The tip of the rifle brushes up over your collarbone and toward your neck. Your nerves awaken under cold metal.

"Let me see." His voice is firm.

Oh. Bites. He wants to see if you have any bites.

"Okay, okay." You nod breathlessly.

Swallowing, you gather your braided hair in your hands as he clicks on a flashlight. You have not been offered string to tie them with so most of the hair has fallen out as always. You roll your neck to one side, and then to the other to show him the unmarked skin. But he is not satisfied yet.

He moves the rifle down to the hem of your shirt and uses it to lift up the fabric just beneath your breasts, revealing the skin of your stomach and ribs. You should feel exposed, standing here with your bare midriff under the light, but the two of them have already seen this much of you. You are more concerned about the fact that he could kill you if he actually suspects you could’ve been bitten.

The cold air invites a shiver. Your teeth clench as you stare at him. In the darkness, his eyes almost lean red.

He lowers your shirt.

"Roll 'em up for me,” he demands, now giving a nod to your trousers.

You bend over to roll up the pantlegs, all the way up to your knees so he can’t complain about it. All that is revealed are your unshaven legs and sweat-laced socks. You are sure they can smell them from where they stand.

"She doesn't have any stupid bites, Ghost, alright?"

Blue tugs at his arm with a huff. Finally, the rifle lowers. You straighten back up and exhale the short breath you were holding.

There is a silent moment where the three of you just stand there. An owl hoots. Ghost rubs at his masked jaw and looks you over some more, eyes flicking to the filled bag over your shoulder with a raised brow.

And then, something unexpected.

A small body whirls into yours and you almost stumble back in a step. Blue wraps her arms around your waist and excitedly breathes out, "I knew you'd make it back. Ghost said you wouldn't. I told him you would."

What?

It is a short-lived hug.

But still, the first one you have had in a long time.

After this tiring day, your eyes close with some more moisture. It is a strange feeling, her young embrace. Her palms spread flat against your back and she presses her forehead to your shoulder because she is tall enough to reach it. You are just about to hug her in return, move your arms around her shoulders out of instinct, but she is soon tugged away by a skeletal hand. Her blue eyes drift down to her boots. She looks a mix of irritated and embarrassed.

In a daze, you end up back in the warmth of the cabin.

Blue begs you to show her what you found. You dump the contents of your pillowcase onto the table. Her father’s shadow lurks behind you somewhere, always watching and taking up space, but for now, you ignore him.

You cannot recall a time when you were in this kind of mood. It is enough to surface the waters of your grief. Because now, your survival does not have to rely so much on Ghost's mercy or the risk of Blue’s sneaky hands. Food, a med kit, one type of antibiotic. It should all be enough to keep you alive - to take care of yourself - for at least however long you end up staying here.

"Shit balls." Blue rummages through the goods. "You did pretty good."

"Right? I can't believe it," you whisper numbly. You wipe your eyes.

She holds up the clothes first, starting with a large, floral blouse that looks like something an old lady would wear. Her head tips back with a giggle.

"This is way too big for you."

"I'll make it work," you say, shrugging, but almost manage a quiet laugh, too. You don't really give a fuck what the clothes look like. At least you can change finally into something else - something that didn’t belong to your dead companions.

Where you care about the medicine, Blue is far more intrigued by the candy bar she discovers. She holds it up, and inspects the wrapper with curiously wide eyes, shooting a glance at her dad.

"T-w-i-x," she sounds out with pinched brows. She looks back at you. "What's this?"

"It's like... chocolate," you tell her.

"Oh— no way. Could I try some?"

You don't really care about the Twix bar. You almost forgot about it since the moment you found it in the car. But before you can tell her she can just have it as a late birthday gift - because she has done so much for you - Ghost moves to take it from her hands.

He puts it back down on the table.

“What’s hers is hers, kid. That’s how it works here.“

[sscieloz]

Just Pretend

Im Nayeon x member!reader

Synopsis: looking back on the day it happened.

Warnings: angst. overdosing. hard use of drugs. self-harm. agressive behaviors.

Word count: 3.4k

Notes: -

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6

Without them, you are worth nothing.

The manager’s words echoed in your head as you entered the apartment, dragging your feet in exhaustion.

He wasn’t wrong, as much as it hurt to admit. You were far from being the most popular member, often preferring to be in the back and step aside to give your bandmates the spotlight. You weren’t as good of a singer as Jihyo, delicate as Mina or as smooth of a dancer as Momo. You’d never be half as good as your bandmates were, no matter how much you practiced and worked to improve. You knew that, they knew that; it was a well-known fact, even though everyone refused to acknowledge out loud.

Were you ever going to be anything other than mediocre?

The thoughts were overwhelming, running through your head at high speed. You threw yourself in your massive bed, the pillow muffling your screams as you tried your best to suffocate, shrink and just disappear. You felt the tiredness up in your bones, the weight heavy and crushing down on your lungs until you were unable to breathe; all you could do was choke in your tears, grasping desperately for a comfort that would never be provided to you.

You were trying so hard. Every day, you did the best you could to keep speaking, breathing, working. Why did no one recognize that?

Why were your efforts never enough?

You screamed, yet no one came. No one heard; no one cared.

You’d once told your bandmates you didn’t mind living alone —you were used to it, after all. Being raised in a small family, it was only natural for you to seek a place for yourself after the girls decided to leave the dorms. You had opted for complete silence and privacy, just as you secretly wished after so many years of a chaotic dorm life with your bandmates.

As much you were thankful for the times you had shared: the late night talks, being spoiled by the older girls, or just hanging out together 24/7… you missed the loneliness your body had grown up with, being alone most of the day as a little girl while waiting for your parents to return home, from work.

That’s what you had told them: you didn’t mind living by yourself. It was quiet, organized, and nice, surely different from the life you’ve experienced as a trainee, but nothing you weren’t used to. You liked being able to relax, to be vulnerable without having to worry about being caught. This way, you didn’t have to think about being a burden to your bandmates, no matter how much they’d argue against it.

That’s how you’ve always seen yourself. As a burden, an unnecessary member, a selfish human being and most importantly, a horrible friend to your bandmates, who you loved to pieces. You’d never be worthy of them. Would never be half of all they were.

A failure. That’s the only thing you excelled at being.

Your mind, the thoughts… it was too much of a burden. You were— you’ve been exhausted for so long. If only the intensity of the memories, the hypothetic situations plotted in your mind would cease, even if just for a few seconds. Then you’d rest, finally, without them bothering and being an ache in your head. Silence, at last. You’d do anything to have it, no matter if the quietude was for a single minute.

After what seemed so long, your loud sobs faded to whimpers, and the banging in your head resumed to a fading headache. With that, you were able to think a little clearer, although still deeply hurt. Your mind went immediately to your unnies, seeking comfort. You knew they’d be more than eager to help you, doing everything in their power to make you feel better — however you simply couldn’t; it was almost like something physical; your stomach prickled, and you felt like throwing up every time you thought about bothering them, even more to talk about something as stupid as your feelings. No, you couldn’t. They were all also struggling, each with their own demons to battle. You’d never ask for help.

Even though you desperately needed it.

As you sat down on the bed, you thought about your oldest bandmate, Nayeon. Always so energetic, with her bunny smile and an infinite wish to have fun and enjoy her life. Picturing her big, loving eyes, you know just what to do to forget such heavy feelings that nested and suffocated your heart.

-

“I’m sorry, Y/nnie.” Nayeon’s voice sounded baffled through the phone, since she was clearly in a loud space. You recalled the oldest member talking about shooting for a magazine, but you didn’t quite remember the details. “Could you repeat yourself? What is it that you want, my dear?”

You took another long gulp of your mixed drink — it tasted awful, since you’ve never seemed to get the dosage of alcohol right, but you didn’t really care. All you wanted was to numb the pain and silence the thoughts, anyway. “That skirt of yours, unnie. The one you were wearing at Louis Vuitton’s fashion show? I also have a shooting later today, and I’d really, really like to wear it. Please?”

She took long to answer, and you weren’t sure if it was because she was busy or simply wondering what was happening to you. Once again, you hated yourself for disturbing her, but the desperation in your bones hurt enough that you’d do anything for it to stop.

“I don’t remember you having a solo shooting anytime soon, baby. It wasn’t mentioned in our monthly meetings, at the company. Who is it for? Tell me all about it, maknae. I want to know.” You could hear people calling her, throughout the line — but she was quick to silence them all, asking for a few more minutes of break. Nayeon’s smart, and knows you too well. She was aware something felt off: whether it was the heaviness in your tone, or how you were stuttering slightly, the words coming out unclear and hesitant.

You were prepared for it, though. You’ve rehearsed all of your words before dialing her number.

“It was a last-time arrangement.” You answered promptly, walking around in your apartment. “Manager-im said the company didn’t really want it, but they’ve let me do it today, finally. It’s for ELLE Korea.”

Nayeon hummed, and you could imagine her shoulders relaxing in her shooting’s dressing room.

She was falling right into your trap.

“Oh, wonderful.” She was probably smiling, her bunny teeth all in display, and the thought of that made you guiltier than ever. You were despicable, not worthy of her love at all. You needed punishment, to hurt and to— “I’m free in a few hours, then I was supposed to meet Momo for dinner. Maybe you could join us, my love? I’ll give you the skirt there, then. You’ve been so distant later, Y/n. Me and all the girls… we miss you.”

Her words forged a bulge in your throat, your defenses falling off instantly. You did your best to hold the hiccups that threatened to leave your lips, frail and insecure. Nayeon’s warmth always made you feel so small, cared for and comforted. Any words from her are enough for you to go running into her arms, crying and confessing all of your deepest fears to the oldest member.

It was an easy thing to do, in theory. But in reality, how hard it was to know you were surrounded by care, yet a thick wall prevented you from feeling the love you so desperately claimed for.

“C-can’t I just stop by your house and grab it, unnie? I’ll be quick and won’t make a mess, I p-promise.” You couldn’t tell her how much you were hurting. The words didn’t come out, they never did. You’ve tried to do so countless times.

They’d never know your troubles, your pain. And it was your fault.

Nayeon sighs, and you know she’s tired. You were exhausted, too.

Regardless of anything, though, you were still the maknae. The girls always granted all of your wishes.

“Sure, baby. I’ll message the doorman so he’ll let you in. You know the code, right?” She was respecting your time, giving you as much space as you needed, to heal from the demons she did not comprehend.

Again, you didn’t deserve her.

“I do.” You bit your lip, unsure of how to express yourself. After so long of keeping your soul hidden, it’s difficult to let the light shine through. “Thank you, unnie. I love you.”

She knew you weren't talking about her skirt.

“And I love you, my dear. We all do, very much.” You heard another muffled voice, sounding much more incisive, even though you couldn’t understand the words clearly. “I’ll talk to you later, ok? Call me whenever.”

You hung up, somehow feeling worse than before.

-

Nayeon’s apartment is a familiar scenery to you. It’s where your most precious memories live, from times when you weren’t so broken and scared. Tracing the walls with your fingers, you reminisced the best ones: weekly movie nights with the girls, the times when Momo baked you cookies because you were feeling down. Being alone in Nayeon’s lavish, grand place feels weird— almost wrong. As if you’re entering a dangerous part of your brain, one you kept carefully hidden because looking back at it hurt too much.

Have you always been like that? So dull and lost?

It’s winter, and Nayeon’s not home, so it’s only natural that the house is cold. However, you felt a different type of freezing feeling in your bones. One so strong it left you shivering, mouth colorless and fists closed, your long nails inflicting pain upon the palms of your hands so you’d focus the discomfort somewhere else, if not your entire body.

Her room, messy as always, brought enough comfort that you found yourself smiling; at least some things never changed. You went straight to her closet, although not for the excuse you’ve told your unnie. Her skirt was there, naturally — but you were looking for something entirely different.

Nayeon has always been energetic. She enjoyed socializing, partying, and, most importantly, having fun. You know it well.

Her personality was the reason she had the perfect distraction for you. At least for a few moments, the thoughts would cease. You’d no longer feel the heavy burden that was being alive. Silence, that’s all you wanted.

You already knew where to look. You’d caught her reaching out for it before attending Jennie’s birthday party. ‘Just to have a little fun, love.’ she had told you. In the last drawer on the left, behind layers of thick winter sweaters and scarfs, the drugs she’d use recreationally were carefully packed in a small metallic box, sparkling at your touch.

Your phone lit up, the familiar notification sounds distracting you from your task. You put your phone on DND, leaving it on one of Nayeon’s jewelry drawers as

your trembling hands held a small sealed package, filled with pills. You hated smoking — the smoke irritated your throat, and somehow you’d never gotten a high, so you found it awful. You despised the taste of alcohol too, often choosing not to drink during gatherings, which cooperated to your title of baby of the group.

Being naturally shy, and more reserved than the others — as well as the youngest, meant you’ve been protected your whole life. Whether it was your family, your members, or the staff, people have always been somehow gentle to you: giving you less revealing clothes, so you’d be comfortable, answering evasive questions in your place, giving you relationship advice and warnings in advance, protecting you from possible dispatch scandals… and most importantly, giving you the drug lecture. You’ve heard it countless times, about how drugs led to addiction and its side effects destroyed people’s lives, along with their loved ones.

But Nayeon used them, and you were sure the other girls were no saints, either. You were all grown women, aware of your actions. Besides, didn’t you deserve peace? You’ve asked Nayeon about what it felt like before, which was why you were sure it was just what you needed.

An escape, something to distract yourself from the rage and the pain, to have you relax for a bit. What were some substances to a body that was already filled with numbness? You just wanted it all to stop, to not feel so overwhelmed. You wanted to be a better idol, a better daughter, a better friend. But you knew that, for such thing to happen, you’d have to be born again; to be someone else.

You could never be anything but mediocre.

That was the reason, even though you were afraid, you still gathered some pills in your hands, looking at them with tears in your eyes. You struggled to breathe, and you lacked courage.

Even that you couldn’t do. A coward — no, you refused to be called that. With a deep sigh, you took a single one, at first.

I did nothing to ease your nerves. You were curious, and so desperately wanted the thoughts to stop, so you took another handful of them. You had never taken anything before, you had no idea how it worked. You expected something immediate, brief but strong, but instead, you just felt the usual numbness. Worse than that, you were starting to overthink about what such substances would do to you. Were you that useless that they didn’t work?

Instead of feeling light and bubbly, you simply felt like you had to throw up. Your entire body was prickling, and your long nails furiously scratched your skin in hopes I’d stop. There wasn’t enough air — as if you forgot how to breathe. It was a mechanic movement, and it terrified you, having to remember to recharge your lungs at every second. Despite the cold, your palms started sweating, and you felt sore and dizzy.

This wasn’t at all how you’d envisioned it. The thoughts were not gone, they’ve worsened, instead. They passed like flashes through your head, a million possible outcomes being presented to you through horrible insights, like you were a character living a thousand lives.

It terrified you. You didn’t want any of it anymore. It was all a terrible mistake.

After what felt like hours, you managed to get up from where you had been kneeling all this time. Balance had left your body, and you felt truly sorry for breaking one of the pretty vases that hung near the tv in your unnie’s room, as well as tearing down many little objects she had left dangling through her drawers. Leaning on anything you could see with your shitty vision, the ground moved like you were in a roller coaster.

You’d have to apologize for making her room even messier, later. Great; one more thing to feel guilty about.

Somehow, you managed to reach her on-suite bathroom. Your hands were now vigorously shivering, a clear message you were not well in the slightest. You needed it to stop, to do something, anything. Feeling heavy with regret, and desperation, you opened her mirror to reach out for your other option: Nayeon’s sleeping pills. Surely, sleeping through all this mess would make it pass quickly. You’d deal with all the consequences later. At the moment, you only needed to rest.

The medicine worked: you felt better instantly, no longer like you were going to throw up at any instant. Calming down, you were able to think clearly, although your heartbeat echoed loudly through the silent house. For the first time in weeks, you stared at yourself through the mirror.

The girl that started back scared you. Your hair lacked its usual thickness and shine. Your eyes were dull, lifeless, with heavy eyebags. And you were thin, so much your current clothes looked huge under yourself, as if they were someone else’s.

Maybe they were.

Those were your last thoughts before the world went pitch black. You lost control of your legs, and slowly felt your body getting closer to the ground. The world finally went silent, and it felt like you’d finally rest.

-

Nayeon knew something was wrong from the moment you called her.

Her nervousness only went further once the doorman confirmed to her that you had indeed gone to her apartment, but he hadn’t seen you leave ever since. In her heart, she already knew what was up.

Just refused to acknowledge it.

“Y/n?” Momo’s voice reverberated through the cold open area of her duplex’s first floor, not getting any response.

It’s okay. She told herself, trying to calm her heart, that felt like was going to fall from her chest. Y/n’s always been quiet. It’s okay. She’s okay.

Both women walked slowly to Nayeon’s master bedroom, looking at each other briefly before entering the room. The oldest gave Momo a faint nod before opening the door, unsure of what to expect.

Her room was normal, as much as it could be. It was a mess, naturally — her mess, but something felt.. off. There were a few things splashed on the ground that she was sure that were not her doing, and… her vase was broken?

What had Y/n done?

The lights of the closet were still on, so it was were she rushed, not looking back to see if Momo would follow. Truthfully, she hoped her friend and ex roommate didn’t.

She sighed in relief once she didn’t find the maknae in the room, but the scenery was not what she was prepared to see. Her drugs, the ones she’d hidden so carefully were all messy on the ground, in all the possible places.

It clicked, then. Your questions, the innocent curiosity whenever you’d mention about it… Nayeon suddenly felt so, so stupid. And deeply worried, too. She felt her rapid breathing as her shaky fingers shoved the drugs back to the drawer, a single question roaming like a silent scream inside her head.

Where was her baby maknae?

Nayeon didn’t have to wait long, though. A terrified scream followed her worried thoughts, confirming her deepest fears.

She didn’t want to look. Couldn’t master the courage to do so.

With her mouth dry, she forced herself to get up and follow Momo’s gasps. The sight presented to herself was one she was sure she’d see in her nightmares every day until she died.

It would haunt her forever.

Momo laid beside your fragile frame on the ground, vomit splashed in your shiny, porcelain ground. Nayeon didn’t mind that — she’s taken care of her members while they were passed out drunk many times, but what terrified was the way your body moved, limp yet frantic, a pool of white foam leaving your mouth while your eyes, while and lifeless, showed no signs of conscience.

She’s had a bad seizure. They doctors would explain to Nayeon, later.

It looked like hell on earth. Her baby, shaking so much there was blood on your head, hurt from the repetitive movements.

“U-unnie?” Momo’s voice faltered, her body covering half of the tragedy. It was selfish, but she was grateful for that. That she hadn’t seen it all. “Call the ambulance.” She was crying, Nayeon noticed, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move — she was useless, frozen, unable to do anything to help.

Momo’s hands went to your hands, trying to lock your arms in attempts of making you stop moving so aggressively and stop hurting yourself, even in your unconsciousness. “Unnie? Ambulance. NOW.”

Momo’s desperate tone is what brings Nayeon back from her trance. Her movements are mechanic, and she has no memory of the words she’d told the operator.

The only thing Nayeon truly remembers is holding Momo’s hands in the way to the hospital, as salty tears clouded her face. The paramedics screams were nothing in her ears, muffled by the loud banging inside her mind, with only one thing she was sure of.

She was to blame.

[skzoologist]

Hidden flaws

word count: ~2.4k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguments

summary: Nobody is perfect, and emotions help highlight those flaws.

a/n: I know this isn't the best I had written and most probably not what any of you expected, but I wanted to show that Bae has his flaws too, that he isn't all those wonderful things he shows to everyone. I hope you guys will still enjoy reading this drabble nonetheless.

Back to the masterlist

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

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A heavy sigh left his chest, his shoulders sagging in temporary relief as the hefty bag was gently thrown into the corner. The door let out a soft click as it closed shut behind his exhausted form, something that only hunched over more as he’d noticed how a certain few pairs of shoes were chaotically thrown in the way. He knew which pair belonged to who, of course he did, and that only heightened his frustrations as he had already asked them several times to not do this.

But no matter. He was way too tired to deal with this right now.

The place was fairly quiet, save for some gentle murmurs of far-away conversations and the occasional shouts of Felix and Jeongin, who were most probably playing some kind of video game against each other -if the cursing was anything to go by, that is-.

And so Bae simply stood there for the next few minutes, drinking in the quite rare moment of silence after a particularly hectic day of work, even though every muscle and tendon inside his body screamed for rest, to just lay down and not move for the next 12 hours. He listened to the passing vehicles down below, the gentle tip-tapping of the water droplets as they hit the windows, of the continuous shuffling of fabric from everyone’s rooms down the hallway.

With each familiar sound his shoulders relaxed, that deeply-etched line between his eyebrows becoming faded and less visible.

But of course, peace could never last long in that dorm, in the one the nine of them shared.

As Bae moved towards his room to rest, his arm dragging his bag behind on the floor, his shoulder was pushed away so violently he nearly tripped backwards, were it not for the wall to catch his stumbling form.

“Jesus christ, watch where you’re going. I nearly fell because of you.” - one of the youngest spat out, anger and frustration dripping from each word.

The tired idol could only watch Seungmin’s leaving form, all his attention stolen from the lack of honorifics and the form of someone else passing by as he immediately closed his eyes so tightly it looked painful. His lung filled to the brim with another intake of air, this one much more urgent than the last, trapped inside until his veins screamed for release and comfort.

It was fine.

He was fine.

After hauling his bag into his room, his eyes momentarily got caught on the clean, folded clothes he had asked someone to put away. But before he could even fully process that information he had heard shouting from the way he had just come from, the two participants of the heated argument painfully obvious. It wouldn’t have been hard to guess anyway, with the mood Seungmin had just been in.

Sure enough, it only took Bae a few steps to witness that exact member and Changbin looking ready to tear each others’ heads off, a sight rarer than ever.

While Seungmin had always been one to stay calm and jokingly teasing, it was even rarer to see Changbin so ready to fight another member. The gym enthusiast always had a heart of gold, exercising his frustrations out instead of throwing it at any of them.

Both of them were only growing more heated with each passing second, veins visibly jumping underneath their skin with fiery anger. Changbin’s fists were both clenched to the point Bae was sure the skin would break, while Seungmin was biting his lip to the point of drawing blood between each violent word he’d stabbed the shorter male with.

Naturally, this drew the attention of every else in the dorm, each pair of eyes wide in disbelief at what was happening. The sight caused them to freeze, unable to believe that out of everyone, these two were having an actual argument and not just a playful banter they always had instead.

But Bae had been there before them by a few minutes, having already witnessed it all, and thus he was able to force his body to move, to act, his hands pushing at the arguing duo’s chests firmly. Two pairs of vicious eyes zeroed in on his form, yet only one’s owner spoke up.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You can barely stand, for fuck’s sake! You come back late, you don’t know anything that happened, and yet you dare get between us? You always do this, playing the peacemaker in this group, as if you’re some kind of goody-two-shoes. You’re such a faker!”

It was silent after Seungmin’s words, the entire atmosphere turning chilly and dangerous. Changbin immediately backed down as if he was scorched, Bae’s hand now uselessly lifted in the air and staying completely still, until it returned to his side and clenched into a fist. Still, it was unable to fully conceal the swirling emotions residing deep within his chest, everything that had happened that day, that week, now desperately trying to spill to the top and consume him alive, injuring not only him in the process, but others as well.

A droplet of blood slithered down the cracks of his skin while nobody dared to move, the uttered words hanging in the air, letting their owner realise their meaning as they dug deeply into everyone’s skin like a vicious parasite.

“Seungmin-” “No, Chan. It’s okay. He’s right. In his eyes, I am what he just called me as.” “No, Bae-”

It all happened in an instant.

In one moment, Bae was standing between Seungmin and Changbin, Chan just far enough to not be able to prevent what was to come. Because in the next moment, Seungmin laid on the floor, dishevelled and panicked as Bae loomed above him, an unconcealed rage filling his once kind eyes. Bae’s chest burned with each intake, veins on the verge of bursting from the sudden added pressure and he was sure he would be chipping a tooth if he continued clenching his jaw as hard as he had been doing so far.

But he couldn’t stop himself anymore. It was all too much. All reason was thrown out the window after that comment, something that dug deeper than Seungmin would have ever thought it would.

He’d stepped on a lion’s tail, and now he had to face the consequences.

Bae’s chest heaved violently, his heart hidden inside thumping so fast it was a wonder how it had remained in its rightful place. That vicious, disgustingly familiar feeling gripped at his throat, nearly choking him to death if he didn’t let it out.

In a blink his arm moved to grip the younger’s hoodie better, shouting breaking out around him. The boy in his grip, locked underneath him, looked like a deer caught in headlights, his entire being shaken down to its core.

Bae hated that look. Hated whenever someone looked at him that way, those wide, fearful eyes haunting him in his nightmares relentlessly. He hated how Seungmin visibly shrank in on himself when one of his hands moved, a breath caught in his throat from the sheer fear, even though it wasn’t a movement fueled by violence. Bae hated how those eyes glistened, hated how that revolting feeling inside him writhed in delight at the sight, but out of everything, he hated the most how Seungmin thought he would actually hurt him.

He hated how even that wasn’t enough to cool himself off, the need to move around and destroy still resided inside besides that deep hurt, begging to take control.

So, with a silent exhale, he stood up and wordlessly went to the door, not answering anyone’s questions as only a silent click could be heard behind him.

He’d heard Chan explaining to the others what had happened as he was leaving, the older aussie being the person who had helped Bae keep his anger issues in check easier. Because as calm and collected as he could look, Bae was only a human with countless flaws. And this one, this one had to be his least favourite. He’d gotten better at controlling it over the years of being an idol, but he couldn’t get rid of it. At one point, this bubbling anger would always break onto the surface, burning everyone around him.

And he never failed to dread that moment.

That was how he always found himself in the gym, the punching bag taking all his frustrations and anger away slowly with each punch, his head feeling calmer and emptier. It was how he had gotten into regularly exercising, actually, the act being his much needed anchor.

Because even after all those words, all the days’ frustrations as he filmed countless scenes and practised certain moves over and over again, he would rather die than hurt one of the members, people who had become his family.

“Hey.”

Changbin’s soft voice was a sudden change, something that Bae wasn’t expecting and so his next punch missed, the bag hitting his body instead and causing him to nearly fall to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.” - the younger male said, helping Bae gather his balance once more. “No, it’s okay.”

It was a bit awkward after that, none of them uttering a single word, merely shuffling in place or fixing their clothes. Bae of course knew why his dongsaeng was there, it couldn’t have been more obvious. Changbin’s eyes looked everywhere but at him, no matter how hard Bae had tried.

A heavy sigh left the younger’s lips, eyes finally meeting Bae’s with a heavy gaze, yet no words accompanied them.

A droplet of sweat glided down the taller’s skin as he closed his eyes, a silent sigh leaving his form.

“It’s okay. I heard Chan hyung explaining things after I left, and the younger ones had to know about it sooner or later.” - Bae said, his voice softer than he had hoped for. “But-” “No buts, Bin, it’s okay. And it wasn’t your fault either. I just… didn’t have the best day. I apologise, truly.” “You aren’t completely right, Hyung. Comeback season is on our necks and this time around, you have the most work put onto your shoulders. Every day you come back past midnight, looking like a zombie, and yet you keep doing chores around the dorm as well. You shouldn’t need to come back to such a scene on top of that, where two of us are fighting, especially when I know how you can be.”

Bae could merely blink down at his younger friend, not having expected that at all.

“Oh come on, say something, don’t just blink at me with those pretty eyes of yours!”

A faint red dusted Bae’s ears at those words, smacking Changbin’s shoulder in return.

“But what was that about anyway?” “You mean the argument? Oh, well… We just haven't really seen eye-to-eye with each others’ performances lately. I… I kept criticising every line he sang, and in return, he kept doing the same with my rap. It all bursted out when I mentioned how he should redo a few lines tomorrow.”

Bae didn’t need to say anything, he could see how Changbin had already reflected over his actions. Regret was clearly written on his face, a slight frown always sitting on his pouty lips. And those deep, dark eyes of his told entire tales of the same thing, and thus, Bae just stood beside him silently.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hyung! I know I fucked up, okay? I shouldn’t be this harsh on him, but I just. I just want him to do his very best, y’know? Because I know he can. He’s our main vocalist, and this track suits him so well.” - Changbin’s voice turned so tender near the end that it almost broke Bae’s heart, because he understood it all.

He also wanted the others to do their very best, to encourage them and help them become that new, best version of themselves. Everyone wanted that from the other, and sometimes that want turned into something hurtful, as regretful as it was.

“Anyway, come on, let’s go so we can both apologise to him, yeah? I would hate for him to go to sleep like this, to actually believe the stupid things I accidentally threw at him.”

With Bae’s silent nod the two were off, the short journey back to their dorms passing in silence. Both males were stressing over their apologies, which words to say that would earn them forgiveness. But deep down Bae feared that he wouldn’t ever be forgiven, his actions harsh and unlike him when his anger took the reins. He knew that all too well. After all, that was the reason why he always went to hide away at the gym at such times.

His stomach churned and rolled around with each step, and much too soon, they were at the door already. Neither of them reached for the handle, as they just stood there, hesitant.

Much too suddenly the door swung open, the person they had least expected standing on the other side, having expected them.

“Come in.” - he said, the two obediently following him into the living room.

It was clear Seungmin had been crying, the skin underneath his eyes scrubbed red and raw. Bae’s heart clenched at the sight, that deep-rooted self hatred only burying itself deeper into his chest. There was a lump growing inside his throat, and he knew that if he were to just stand there, he would be unable to say anything later.

“I’m sorry, Seungmin.” - he whispered out, his voice nearly breaking from hidden emotion.

He turned away to leave, that familiar burning appearing behind his eyes, but something held him back. A quick glance told him that it was Seungmin himself, his small hand peeking out from his sweater paws. A habit he only practised when he was feeling upset.

“No, Hyung, stay. Please.” - the boy whispered out, tugging at his sleeve once more with such desperation that Bae couldn’t deny, even as a stray tear rolled down his skin.

And so the three stayed in the living room over warm cups of tea and ramyeon, talking everything out. Although the damage had been done, scars could heal if looked after properly; and none of them were planning to leave.

[yumicreatesworld]

Rivals To Romance: Frozen Hearts - Lee Jeno

Summary: A tale of rival hockey teams stranded by a storm, where animosity thaws into camaraderie and unexpected romance blooms amidst adversity.

Pairing: hockey player!Jeno x cheerleader!reader (featuring hockey player!Mark)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6.7k

Genre: Romance, Drama

Warnings: thematic elements, intense situations, emotional intensity, cringey hockey team names (sorry)

I’ve never watched a single hockey game… so let’s write about it!

The arena is a sea of noise and excitement, with fans from both teams filling the stands, waving banners, and chanting. The ice gleams under the bright lights, ready for the players to carve their paths across it. The game is in the middle of the third period, and the scoreboard reads 3-3, reflecting the intensity of the match between Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters.

You’re on the sidelines with your fellow cheerleaders, your uniform vibrant and your movements precise. Every cheer you lead is filled with energy, your voice blending with the roars of the crowd. Your eyes occasionally flicker to the ice, following the rapid movements of the players.

Jeno, the center for Neo Resonance, catches your eye. He moves with a combination of speed and grace that is mesmerizing. You watch as he intercepts the puck from one of your team’s forwards, his expression one of fierce determination. He speeds towards the goal, skillfully dodging defenders. The tension in the arena spikes, and you can’t help but feel a mix of apprehension and admiration.

Jeno takes a powerful shot, aiming for the goal. The crowd collectively holds its breath. Your goalie leaps, making an incredible save, and the puck rebounds back into play. The ensuing scramble is chaotic, players from both teams crashing into each other, fighting for control. The noise level in the arena reaches a fever pitch as everyone anticipates the next move.

Your team’s cheerleaders are giving it their all, and you’re no exception. You lead the crowd in chants, your voice loud and clear, encouraging the Drifters to push harder. You notice Jeno again during a brief pause in the game. There’s a moment where he and one of your team’s players exchange heated words, the rivalry between them palpable.

“Nice dive, Jeno!” shouts Ryan, one of your team’s defensemen, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Trying out for the swim team next?”

Jeno skates closer, his eyes blazing. “At least I don’t need to slash to stay relevant, Ryan,” he retorts, his voice steady but edged with frustration.

Ryan scoffs, stepping closer as well. “Keep talking. Maybe that’ll help you win a game for once.”

The referees quickly intervene, separating the two before the situation escalates. The tension between the teams is clear, and the rivalry is deeply personal.

As Jeno skates back towards his bench, you focus on leading another cheer. The final minutes of the game are a whirlwind. Jeno, unwavering in his determination, rallies his team for a final push. The Daredevil Drifters’ defense is formidable, meeting every advance with fierce resistance. You’re on the edge, cheering with all your might, willing your team to hold strong., as the opposing cheerleaders do the same.

With mere seconds left, Jeno takes one last, desperate shot. The puck flies across the ice, and time seems to slow. Everyone watches as it heads for the goal. The buzzer sounds just as the puck strikes the post, narrowly missing the net. The game ends in a draw, the tension unresolved but the rivalry even more intense.

The arena explodes in a mixture of cheers and groans. You’re breathless from the excitement, your heart pounding. As the players leave the ice, you can see the frustration and determination on their faces. The rivalry between Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters is far from over, and you know that the next game will be just as intense, if not more so.

You and your fellow cheerleaders gather your things, exchanging high-fives and compliments on a job well done. As you make your way towards the exit, you can’t help but notice Jeno walking nearby with his teammates. His expression is a blend of frustration and determination, reflecting the intense effort he put into the game.

“We had them, Mark,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he pulls off his helmet. “That last shot should’ve gone in.”

Mark claps Jeno on the shoulder. “We’ll get them next time, Jeno. Don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes slightly at the confidence in their voices, feeling a flicker of irritation. Your own team had fought just as hard, and you can’t help but feel the rivalry pulse through you.

As you and your fellow cheerleaders make your way through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bump into Jeno. The sudden contact causes both of you to pause and glare at each other.

“Watch where you’re going,” you snap, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jeno’s eyes narrow. “Maybe you should try that too.”

You huff in annoyance, squaring your shoulders. “Maybe if you focused on winning instead of whining, you’d have scored that last goal.”

Jeno’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something else, but he just shakes his head and steps aside. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

You walk past him, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and something you can’t quite identify. The rivalry between your two teams is more than just a game; it’s personal.

As you exit the arena, the cold night air hits you, a reminder of the storm that’s been forecasted. You see the buses for both teams and cheerleaders lined up, ready to take everyone back to their respective locations.

The buses for both teams and their cheerleaders pull out of the arena parking lot, heading towards their respective destinations. The night air is cold, and snow begins to fall more heavily, the flakes growing larger and the visibility decreasing rapidly.

You sit with your fellow cheerleaders, chatting and laughing about the game, trying to shake off the tension from earlier. The bus moves slowly through the increasingly treacherous conditions. You glance out the window, noticing how quickly the snow is accumulating on the ground.

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” one of your teammates remarks, peering through the frosted window.

As the bus trudges along the icy road, the snowstorm intensifies, transforming the landscape into a blur of white. The driver squints, trying to navigate through the blizzard, but the conditions worsen by the minute. Eventually, the bus comes to a halt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have to pull over,” the driver announces, concern evident in his voice. “The roads are too dangerous to continue. There’s a lodge up ahead where we can take shelter.”

The news spreads quickly, and the atmosphere on the bus shifts from casual conversation to murmurs of worry. You grab your bag and follow your teammates off the bus, huddling together against the biting wind.

As you trudge towards the lodge, you see the Neo Resonance buses pulling in as well. The players, cheerleaders and their staff disembark, and you spot Jeno among them, his expression hard to read.

The lodge is a rustic, cozy building, its wooden beams and stone fireplace giving it a welcoming feel. Once inside, the warmth is a welcome relief from the cold outside. Players and cheerleaders alike start to unload their gear and lay it down in available spaces. The lobby quickly fills with bags, hockey sticks, and other equipment.

A few of the players drop onto the couches and chairs, groaning as they stretch out tired muscles. The exhaustion from the game is evident on their faces.

“Man, that game took it out of me,” Ryan says, rubbing his neck. “I feel like I got run over by a truck.”

“Tell me about it,” another player replies. “I’m going to feel this one tomorrow.”

There’s some friendly banter as the initial tension begins to ease slightly. Players from both teams, though still wary, exchange comments about the game and the weather.

“This storm’s insane,” Mark from Neo Resonance says, shaking snow from his hair. “Hope we’re not stuck here too long.”

“You and me both,” one of your fellow cheerleaders replies. “But at least it’s warm in here.”

Jeno and some of his teammates start organizing their gear, making sure everything is accounted for. You and the other cheerleaders find a spot to lay down your own bags, spreading out blankets and setting up a makeshift area to rest.

The lodge manager steps forward with a flashlight and a serious expression. “Alright, everyone, listen up. We’re in for a rough night. The storm is getting worse, and it looks like we’ll be here for a while. We need to make sure everyone is safe and comfortable.”

The players and cheerleaders nod, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. People start settling in, trying to make the best of it. Some players stretch out on the floor, using their bags as makeshift pillows, while others huddle together, sharing snacks and stories to pass the time.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and then go out completely, plunging the lodge into darkness. The murmurs of conversation turn into gasps and exclamations of surprise.

“Great,” you mutter, reaching for your phone to use as a flashlight.

The lodge manager’s voice cuts through the darkness. “Looks like the storm knocked out the power. We have some emergency supplies, but we’ll need to work together to get through this.”

There’s a murmur of discontent from both groups. The rivalry is still fresh, and the idea of cooperating with the other team doesn’t sit well with anyone. But with the storm howling outside, there’s no choice.

“Alright, let’s divide into teams,” the manager continues. “We need people to gather firewood, distribute blankets, and set up a central area for everyone to stay warm.”

You’re assigned to gather firewood, and to your dismay, so is Jeno. He gives you a sidelong glance, clearly not thrilled either.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath as you pull on your coat and gloves. “Just what I needed.”

“Trust me, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Jeno replies curtly, grabbing an empty bag for the wood.

You both head outside into the biting cold, the wind whipping the snow around in a frenzy. The task is made more difficult by the rapidly falling snow and the need to trudge through drifts to find suitable wood. You quickly realize that your cheer uniform offers little protection against the freezing temperatures, and you start to shiver uncontrollably.

Jeno notices your shivering and stops. Without a word, he unties a jacket from around his waist and hands it to you. “Here. Put this on.”

Surprised, you hesitate for a moment before taking the jacket. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on. The warmth is immediate and much needed.

After a short pause, you add, “I didn’t see you grab this jacket.”

Jeno shrugs, his expression unreadable. “I grabbed it before I followed you outside. Thought it might come in handy.”

The revelation makes you pause. Despite the rivalry and the tension between you, Jeno had thought ahead and brought the jacket, anticipating the harsh conditions.

“Well, thanks again,” you say, this time with a bit more sincerity.

Jeno nods, not meeting your eyes. “Let’s just get this done.”

The two of you continue working in relative silence, the only sounds the crunching of snow beneath your boots and the distant howl of the wind. Despite the lingering tension, the shared challenge of gathering firewood in the storm creates a small, unspoken truce between you.

“We should split up,” Jeno suggests after a while, his voice cutting through the silence between them.

You hesitate, glancing around at the thick blanket of snow. “Are you sure? It’s hard to see in this storm.”

Jeno nods, his breath visible in the freezing air. “Yeah, but we’ll cover more ground that way. Just stay within shouting distance.”

Reluctantly, you agree, and you separate, disappearing into the swirling snow. Alone now, you focus on the task at hand, scanning the ground for fallen branches and small trees that have succumbed to the weight of the snow.

It’s slow going, each piece of wood a small victory against the elements. Your fingers ache from the cold, despite the gloves, and you find yourself constantly wiping snowflakes from your face. You glances over at Jeno occasionally, seeing his figure moving steadily through the storm. Despite you rivalry, you grudgingly acknowledge his determination and efficiency.

After what feels like hours, you reconvene near the lodge with your haul of firewood. Some of the other players and cheerleaders have also returned, their faces red and their breaths visible in the cold air. There’s a collective sense of relief as they deposit their bundles of wood in a growing pile near the lodge entrance.

Jeno approaches you, his expression more serious than usual. “Good work,” he says simply, his voice carrying a hint of begrudging respect.

You nod in acknowledgement, surprised at the genuine appreciation in Jeno’s tone. “You too,” you replies, feeling a twinge of the camaraderie that comes with shared hardship.

You exchange nods before moving to help the others with the remaining tasks. The storm rages on outside, but inside the lodge, a small seed of trust has begun to sprout between you both, nurtured by the necessity of survival and the mutual understanding that sometimes, cooperation is stronger than competition.

Outside, the storm continues to rage unabated, its fury relentless as snowflakes swirl around in a blinding frenzy. You and Jeno, along with a few others, brave the elements once more to gather the last batch of firewood needed to sustain you all through the night.

As y’all venture further from the lodge, the terrain becomes increasingly treacherous. Ice patches lurk beneath the fresh snow, threatening to send you slipping with each step. You shiver despite the jacket, the cold seeping through your cheerleading uniform. Your breath comes out in visible puffs, and you focus on keeping your footing.

Suddenly, a patch of ice beneath you gives way, causing you to lose your balance. You start to fall backward, but before you can hit the ground, strong hands grip your arms and pull you upright.

“Careful,” Jeno’s voice cuts through the howling wind, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle.

You blink in surprise, catching your breath as you steady yourself. You look up at Jeno, his face partially obscured by the falling snow. “Thanks,” you manage, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Jeno nods, releasing your arms and turning back to the task at hand. “Watch your step. It’s slippery out here.”

You continue in silence, your movements more cautious now. Each piece of firewood you find is a small victory against the storm, and you work together to load them into your bags.

As you trudge back towards the lodge, you steals glances at Jeno. His jaw is set in determination, his eyes focused on the path ahead. Despite your rivalry and the tension that still lingers between you, you can’t deny the sense of security you feel with him beside you.

Back at the lodge, you deposit the firewood with the others. The lodge is warmer now, the fire crackling merrily in the stone fireplace.

Jeno meets your gaze briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You’ve faced a challenge together and come out stronger for it. It’s a small step, but one that has begun to bridge the gap between rivals.

Others notice the subtle change in your interaction, exchanging surprised glances and murmured comments. The tension that once filled the lodge has eased somewhat, replaced by a tentative camaraderie born out of necessity.

As you all settle in for the night, you find yourself sitting closer to Jeno than you would have imagined possible earlier in the day. Your rivalry is far from forgotten, but for now, you share a mutual respect forged through hardship and the realization that, perhaps, you’re not so different after all.

With the fire crackling warmly in the lodge, the storm outside seems a world away. Players and cheerleaders alike find themselves clustered together, seeking comfort in the flickering light and the shared struggle of the evening.

You sit near the fire, your cheeks flushed from the cold but your spirits lifted by the relative warmth. You glance around, noticing Jeno on the other side of the room, engaged in a quiet conversation with Mark, his teammate. Despite the lingering tension between them, there’s an undeniable sense of relief in the air.

After a moment, Jeno catches your gaze and nods in acknowledgement. You return the nod cautiously, unsure of what to make of your newfound understanding.

As the night wears on, conversations start to flow more freely among the group. Laughter echoes off the wooden beams, breaking the silence that had settled over them earlier.

You find yourself drawn into a conversation with a few of the other cheerleaders of both teams, exchanging stories about past games and funny mishaps during practices. You steal glances at Jeno occasionally, noting his occasional chuckle or smile as he listens to his teammates.

Eventually, You decide to approach Jeno, cautiously navigating the still-present tension between you. You find him sitting alone near the fire, staring into the flames with a thoughtful expression.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, keeping your tone neutral.

Jeno looks up, surprise flickering in his eyes before he nods. “Sure.”

You sit in companionable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you . You shift slightly, unsure of how to break the ice.

Finally, Jeno speaks, his voice quiet yet oddly open. “So, uh, what made you want to be a cheerleader?”

You blink in surprise at the unexpected question. You hadn’t expected Jeno to initiate a conversation, let alone about something personal. “Hmm, well, it started when I was little,” you begin, a small smile playing on your lips as you recall fond memories. “I used to watch my older sister cheer at her high school games. She always looked so confident and happy out there on the field. I guess I wanted to be like her.”

Jeno listens intently, his gaze fixed on the flames. “That’s cool. Must be tough, though. Cheering at all those games, I mean.”

You nod, a hint of pride in your voice. “Yeah, it can be challenging, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. You get to be part of something bigger than yourself, you know?”

Jeno nods in understanding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get that.”

After a short pause, Jeno speaks with a tentative curiosity. “So, uh, what do you do when you’re not cheering?”

You smile, appreciating the opportunity to share a bit of yourself beyond the cheerleader persona. “I enjoy hiking and exploring new places,” you begin, your voice soft yet filled with enthusiasm. “There’s something about being outdoors, especially in the mountains. It’s like a different world out there.”

Jeno listens attentively, nodding in understanding. “That sounds peaceful. I’ve always wanted to do more hiking, but hockey keeps me pretty busy.”

You continue to exchange stories, discovering shared interests and hobbies beyond your respective roles in sports. Jeno talks about his passion for photography, how capturing moments off the ice helps him unwind and see the world differently. You share your love for cooking and experimenting with recipes, finding joy in creating meals that bring people together.

As you converse, a sense of ease settles between you, the initial tension of rivalry giving way to genuine curiosity and mutual respect. You find yourselves laughing over shared anecdotes and nodding in agreement over favorite books and movies, opening up in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The tension between you eases as you discover common interests and experiences beyond your roles on the ice and the sidelines.

“It’s funny,” You muse after a while, a small smile quirking your lips. “We spend so much time competing against each other, but we probably have more in common than we realize.”

Jeno nods thoughtfully, a faint smile on his face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe there’s more to this rivalry than meets the eye.”

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of camaraderie settling between you. “Who knew a snowstorm could bring us all together like this?”

Jeno’s smile widens, reflecting the warmth of the fire. “Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.”

You both laugh softly, the sound blending with the crackling of the fire and the distant howl of the wind outside. In that moment, the rivalry between you fades into the background, replaced by a tentative bond forged through shared moments and unexpected conversation.

As the storm continues to rage outside, You and Jeno find yourselves leaning closer to the fire, grateful for the unexpected connection that has begun to grow between them in the heart of the blizzard.

Inside the lodge, tension hung thick in the air as players and cheerleaders from SM Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters found themselves unexpectedly stranded by the intensifying snowstorm. The previous evening, when the storm was less severe, they had settled into the lodge with trepidation, each team staking out their areas and eyeing each other warily.

Jeno, Mark, and Y/N had found themselves near the fireplace, a makeshift center for gathering and discussion. They had talked quietly, trying to make sense of their predicament and what steps to take next.

As the storm intensified overnight, sleep had been fitful and short for most. The wind howled around the lodge, and snow piled high against the windows. By morning, it was clear they were snowed in completely, communication lines severed, and any hopes of immediate rescue dashed.

Now, in the harsh light of day, they convened again near the fireplace. Jeno glanced out the frosted windows, squinting against the relentless flurry. "This storm came out of nowhere. We need to figure out our next move."

Mark nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. "Yeah, it's intense. First things first, we should gather everyone and take stock of what we have—food, water, and firewood."

Y/N, her voice steady despite the tension in the room, nodded in agreement. "Let's get organized. We need teams to check supplies and secure the lodge."

Quickly, they gathered the others, navigating through worried conversations about when help might arrive. In the main area, Jeno stood on a chair to address the group, his voice projecting above the storm’s howl. "Listen up, everyone. The storm has cut off all communication. Our priority is safety and conserving resources. We'll divide into teams—some gather firewood, others check the pantry and water supply."

A Drifters player spoke up skeptically, "You sure your team can handle this?"

Jeno's teammate shot back defensively, "We'll manage. How about your team?"

Y/N stepped in, her tone firm yet diplomatic. "Let's focus on the tasks. We're in this together, no matter the jersey."

Despite initial tension, teams formed and began their tasks. There were terse exchanges and competitive undercurrents, but also moments of cooperation as they secured supplies and fortified the lodge. Leaders emerged naturally, coordinating efforts to maintain morale and safety.

Near the fireplace, Jeno helped stack firewood brought in by his teammates. "Good work out there," he acknowledged, a nod of respect exchanged.

His teammate nodded back, the rivalry momentarily set aside. "Thanks. Your team's not bad either."

Meanwhile, Y/N moved among the groups, offering encouragement and helping to allocate tasks. She noted moments where players from both teams worked side by side, a silent acknowledgment that survival depended on unity despite the rivalry.

As the day wore on and the storm continued unabated, a fragile sense of cooperation began to settle in. They were rivals on the ice, but here, in the face of nature's fury, they were teammates striving toward a common goal: survival until help could arrive.

In the flickering light of the lodge, amidst the howling wind and swirling snow, bonds were forming that transcended the competition they knew so well.

Inside the lodge, tension hung thick in the air as players and cheerleaders from Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters found themselves unexpectedly stranded by the intensifying snowstorm. The previous evening, when the storm was less severe, you had settled into the lodge with trepidation, each team staking out their areas and eyeing each other warily.

Jeno, Mark, and Yourself had found yourselves near the fireplace, a makeshift center for gathering and discussion. You had talked quietly, trying to make sense of your predicament and what steps to take next.

As the storm intensified overnight, sleep had been fitful and short for most. The wind howled around the lodge, and snow piled high against the windows. By morning, it was clear you were snowed in completely, communication lines severed, and any hopes of immediate rescue dashed.

Now, in the harsh light of day, you convened again near the fireplace. Jeno glanced out the frosted windows, squinting against the relentless flurry. “This storm came out of nowhere. We need to figure out our next move.”

Mark nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. “Yeah, it’s intense. First things first, we should gather everyone and take stock of what we have—food, water, and firewood.”

You, your voice steady despite the tension in the room, nodded in agreement. “Let’s get organized. We need teams to check supplies and secure the lodge.”

Quickly, you three gathered the others, navigating through worried conversations about when help might arrive. In the main area, Jeno stood on a chair to address the group, his voice projecting above the storm’s howl. “Listen up, everyone. The storm has cut off all communication. Our priority is safety and conserving resources. We’ll divide into teams—some gather firewood, others check the pantry and water supply.”

A Drifters player spoke up skeptically, “You sure your team can handle this?”

Jeno’s teammate shot back defensively, “We’ll manage. How about your team?”

You stepped in, your tone firm yet diplomatic. “Let’s focus on the tasks. We’re in this together, no matter the jersey.”

Despite initial tension, teams formed and began their tasks. There were terse exchanges and competitive undercurrents, but also moments of cooperation as you all secured supplies and fortified the lodge. Leaders emerged naturally, coordinating efforts to maintain morale and safety.

Near the fireplace, Jeno helped stack firewood brought in by his teammates. “Good work out there,” he acknowledged, a nod of respect exchanged.

His teammate nodded back, the rivalry momentarily set aside. “Thanks. Your team’s not bad either.”

Meanwhile, you moved among the groups, offering encouragement and helping to allocate tasks. You noted moments where players from both teams worked side by side, a silent acknowledgment that survival depended on unity despite the rivalry.

As the day wore on and the storm continued unabated, a fragile sense of cooperation began to settle in. You were rivals on the ice, but here, in the face of nature’s fury, you were teammates striving toward a common goal: survival until help could arrive.

In the flickering light of the lodge, amidst the howling wind and swirling snow, bonds were forming that transcended the competition they knew so well.

As evening descended, fatigue and tension hung heavy in the lodge. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on weary faces. The teams gathered once more near the fireplace, the flickering light offering a brief respite from the relentless storm outside.

Jeno glanced around at the tired but determined faces of his teammates and their rivals. “We’ve done well today,” he began, his voice carrying a note of exhaustion tempered with satisfaction. “We’ve secured enough firewood and stocked up on essentials. We’ll need to ration carefully, but we’ll manage.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his expression serious yet relieved. “We’ve got a plan in place. We’ll keep watch through the night, make sure everyone’s accounted for.”

You chimed in, your voice softer now, filled with a blend of weariness and quiet resolve. “It hasn’t been easy, but we’re getting through this together. Tomorrow, we’ll reassess and see where we stand.”

There were murmurs of agreement and nods of tired acknowledgment. Despite the rivalry that had defined you on the ice, here you were united by a shared struggle against the elements. The lodge, once a battleground of opposing teams, had become a sanctuary where survival depended on cooperation and mutual support.

As you settled in for another night of uncertainty, the fire crackling in the hearth seemed to echo the flickers of camaraderie and understanding that had begun to thaw the ice between you. In the quiet moments that followed, the storm outside seemed to relent, if only slightly, as if acknowledging the resilience and newfound unity within the lodge walls.

Inside the lodge, the atmosphere was subdued as you faced the harsh reality of your prolonged isolation. The storm continued unabated outside, and inside, conversations revolved around their dwindling supplies.

Jeno, Mark, and You convened near the dwindling fire, once again. Your expressions grave as you assessed the situation.

Mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “We’ve burned through more firewood than I expected. And the food supplies… they’re not going to last much longer.”

Jeno nodded grimly, his gaze flickering to the small stockpile of provisions they had managed to gather. “We need to ration what we have left. Maybe skip some meals to conserve.”

You frowned, your mind racing with possibilities. “We should check if there are any emergency supplies we missed. Maybe a hidden pantry or storage room.”

You organized teams once more, this time with a renewed urgency. Some searched the lodge thoroughly while others doubled efforts to gather firewood in the worsening storm.

Tensions simmered as the reality of your predicament settled in deeper. There were terse exchanges over who should eat what, and frustrations occasionally boiled over. Yet, amidst the strain, there were also moments of quiet understanding and cooperation as they realized their mutual dependence for survival.

Near the fireplace, where the warmth offered a brief respite from the cold, Jeno and a Drifters cheerleader worked silently together to ration out the remaining food supplies. “We’ve got to make this last,” Jeno muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

His teammate nodded in agreement, a shared determination replacing the rivalry that had once defined their relationship. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Meanwhile, you worked with another group to search every nook and cranny of the lodge, hoping to uncover any overlooked resources. “Check behind those crates,” you directed, your voice steady despite the fatigue evident in your eyes.

As the day wore on and your efforts continued, a sense of unity began to emerge amidst the strain.

By nightfall, despite the challenges that lay ahead, you all gathered once more near the fireplace. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on weary faces.

“We’ve made it through another day,” Jeno said quietly, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and resolve. “We’re holding on, but we need to keep going. Tomorrow, we’ll need to be even more resourceful.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his gaze steady as he looked around at their makeshift community. “We’ll get through this. We’ve come this far together.”

You added with a hint of optimism, “We’ve proven we can adapt. We just have to keep working together.”

As you settled in for another night of uncertainty, the firelight seemed to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded you. Despite the challenges of the storm and the dwindling supplies, you found strength in your resilience and in the bonds that were slowly but surely forming between you.

As the third day of the relentless storm dragged on, the lodge felt more like a refuge and a prison simultaneously. Jeno, standing near the frosted windows, watched the snow swirl in gusts outside, obscuring the landscape beyond. The atmosphere inside was heavy with the scent of woodsmoke and a mix of tension and camaraderie that had developed among the players and cheerleaders from Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters.

Amidst the shuffle of tasks and attempts to stave off boredom, Jeno found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. You moved with purpose, checking supplies, offering encouragement, and managing disputes with a calm demeanor that belied the stress of your predicament. He admired your resilience and the way you had managed to keep spirits up when the temptation to succumb to anxiety loomed over everyone.

Later in the afternoon, as you found a rare moment of solitude near the crackling fireplace, Jeno decided to voice his thoughts. The firelight flickered across your face, casting shadows that danced in your eyes as you looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips.

“You’ve been holding up well through all of this,” Jeno began, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and introspection.

You nodded, your gaze meeting his with a hint of gratitude. “Thanks. It’s not easy, but we’re all doing our best.”

Jeno nodded in agreement, his mind grappling with the emotions swirling within him. “Yeah, it’s just… being stuck here makes you realize what’s important.”

Curious, you tilted your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… it’s made me appreciate the people around me more. Like you.”

Your smile widened slightly, touched by his honesty. “That’s sweet of you to say. I think situations like this bring out the best in people.”

You both lapsed into a companionable silence, the crackling fire filling the space between you. Jeno’s thoughts raced as he dared to consider the possibility that his feelings for you were deeper than he had initially realized. He admired your strength, your kindness, and the way you effortlessly brought people together, even in the midst of uncertainty.

As the storm raged outside, inside the lodge, a different kind of storm brewed within Jeno—a mix of conflicting emotions and a growing awareness of his feelings for you. For now, he kept those thoughts close, content to let the warmth of the fire and the companionship you shared ease the chill of their isolated reality.

Inside the lodge, the fourth day of isolation brought with it a renewed sense of hope as communication flickered back to life intermittently. Players and cheerleaders from both teams gathered around the radio, your ears straining for any updates or signs of rescue.

You, Jeno and Mark hovered near the radio, your expressions a mix of anticipation and relief as static-filled voices broke through the silence.

“We’re not alone anymore,” Mark murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It won’t be long now.”

Jeno glanced out the window, the storm still raging outside but with a newfound optimism. “We need to be ready when they arrive. Make sure everything’s set.”

Teams mobilized once more, this time with a sense of purpose fueled by the prospect of imminent rescue. You gathered supplies, organized a makeshift signal outside the lodge, and prepared to make your departure as swift and efficient as possible.

Throughout the day, the tension that had gripped both teams began to ease. Laughter returned to the lodge, mingling with stories of your time spent together, and reflections on what you had learned about yourselves and each other during your unexpected ordeal.

Near the fireplace, where the fire now burned brightly against the fading light of day, you and Jeno found a moment to yourselves. The weight of your shared experience hung between you, unspoken but understood.

As day four unfolded inside the lodge, the sense of hope grew palpable, as sporadic updates through the crackling radio hinted at the approaching rescue. Both teams gathered around the hearth, where the fire crackled with renewed vigor against the backdrop of the dimming daylight outside. The warmth from the flames not only thawed the chill in the room but also kindled a newfound camaraderie among the once-rival teams.

You three found yourselves drawn together near the fireplace, one last time. Your expressions reflecting a mix of relief and quiet contemplation. The tension that had hung heavy in the air for days began to dissipate, replaced by a shared understanding that you were nearing the end.

"It's almost over," Jeno murmured, his voice carrying a weight of gratitude as he looked around at his companions.

Mark nodded, his usual stoic demeanor softening slightly with a smile. "We've come through. Together."

Your gaze flickered between them, your smile reflecting the relief and friendship that had blossomed amidst the challenges you had faced. "We made it," you affirmed, your voice steady with resilience.

In that moment, Jeno couldn't help but admire your unwavering strength and the way you had kept the teams’ spirits up during the darkest hours of their confinement. Your shared experiences had forged a bond that transcended the rivalry they had known on the ice, revealing deeper layers of respect and admiration.

As night descended and the fire crackled warmly, casting dancing shadows across the worn faces of the group, they gathered one last time near the hearth. The flickering light seemed to echo their shared relief and anticipation for the coming rescue. Tomorrow promised an end to your isolation and a return to your normal lives, but for now, you lingered in the quiet companionship that had grown among you—a testament to their resilience and newfound unity.

Tomorrow would bring your rescue, but tonight, as you stood together by the fire, Jeno felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected bonds that had formed and a silent hope that this newfound connection with you would endure beyond your shared predicament.

As the morning sun finally began to peek through the dissipating storm clouds, the atmosphere inside the lodge buzzed with a mix of relief and anticipation. Rescuers had arrived overnight, their vehicles parked outside ready to transport the weary group of players and cheerleaders back to civilization.

You and Jeno found yourselves among the bustling activity of packing bags and saying hurried goodbyes. The sense of companionship that had developed over the past days was palpable, yet there was an underlying tension as you prepared to leave behind the lodge that had become both a sanctuary and prison.

Near the buses, amid the flurry of activity, Jeno caught your eye. He motioned for you to join him aside, away from the others. With a mixture of nerves and determination, he took a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” Jeno’s voice was earnest, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

You nodded, a flicker of concern crossing your face as you followed him to a quieter spot. “What is it, Jeno?”

He hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I… I know this might not be the best time, but these past few days have made me realize something important.” Jeno’s voice was steady, his gaze unwavering despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

Your brows furrowed slightly, sensing the weight of his words. “What are you trying to say?”

Taking a step closer, Jeno reached out to gently hold your hands in his. “Y/N, I’ve admired you for a long time. Your strength, your kindness… everything about you. And being here with you, through all of this, I’ve come to realize that my feelings for you go beyond just rivalry.”

Conflicting emotions played across your face. The loyalty to your team, the uncertainty of what lay ahead, and yet, you couldn’t deny the warmth in Jeno’s eyes or the sincerity in his words.

“But… our teams,” you began softly, torn between the bond you had forged and the rivalry that defined your lives.

Jeno nodded, his thumb gently caressing your hand. “I know it won’t be easy, Y/N. But I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. Because you mean more to me than just our teams.”

A moment of silence hung between you, the sounds of departure fading into the background. And then, with a mix of resolve and vulnerability, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Your lips met in a tender kiss, a silent promise of what could be despite the challenges ahead.

As you pulled back, your eyes met, each filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Around them, the world seemed to pause for that brief moment, encapsulating the journey you had shared and the new path you were embarking on together.

With a final squeeze of hands, you turned to join your respective teams, ready to leave the lodge behind and face the future—one where your rivalry would no longer define you, but rather, the bond you had discovered amidst the storm.

And as the buses pulled away from the lodge, carrying them back to their lives beyond the snow-covered wilderness, you and Jeno shared a glance, knowing that whatever lay ahead, you would face it together.

Fade to black. Lmao. I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did! Love you all!

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[whitelionspirit]

Been a minute but some thoughts about linguistics reader! In bayverse.

You met Optimus and the others during the beginning stages of working with NEST. While young you were one of the more skilled people in their arsenal as you took special interest in the ancient language that is Cybertronian.

Being the only human who could decode and understand the language you became crucial in communication with the Autobots as you gain the attention of Optimus who was very interested in your work and your grasp on understanding their language to any capacity.

As a being who cared deeply for history and science youboth got along swimmingly. It baffled everyone especially your superiors but they decided to use it to their advantage.

Over the course of the years working together the two of you developed a deep bond. One that was ripped away when the world turned on your friends.

It broke something inside of you when you thought they had been killed when forced to leave your planet.

Even when you found out they survived everything quickly changed and everyone had to flee. They tried to contain you to use you as a bargaining chip for Optimus but you were thankfully saved by Ratchet.

It put a target on everyone’s back and you soon found yourself being forcefully separated from the people who were your family.

For three years you were on the run constantly hiding until they finally caught up with you. Taken back to Chicago you were forced to work and be used as bait for Autobots.

It disgusted and devastated you to see humans experiment on Cybertronians as if they were just heaps of metal to dissect and create weapons from.

The day you were rescued was chaotic you were nearly fired on as you ran for safety in the lab. If you hadn’t been grabbed by Joshua and presented as a prized horse in front of the Autobots you probably would have tried to escape in the chaos.

You defended yourself explaining they had kidnapped you and forced you to do this.

They were shocked to say the least and from the look on Optimus’ face you felt the last of your already broken heart shatter. His last reigning hope had been soiled.

Even after leaving for whatever reason despite everything Hound scooped you up and carried you away from that hell of a place.

No one said a thing until you reunited with Bumblebee and the humans that they were protecting.

You nearly burst into tears at the sight of the yellow mech.

The talks of leaving and the revelation of Galvatron shocked even you. The questions turned to you to ask what you knew of this. You knew nothing and said so.

When Lockdown suddenly appeared you did your best to stay out of the way but got caught up in the fighting.

You and Tessa were taken aboard the ship. You tried to be a distraction for Tessa so she could get away as Lockdown spotted you and were forced from the car you had hidden in. He called you a rare prize indeed a human with the knowledge and history of Cybertron imbedded into your mind. Favored by the leader of the Autobots.

He tossed you into a cage near Optimus as if to taunt you both.

You didn’t speak at first but eventually you did not being able to bare the silence any longer.

“I’m sorry about the others. I didn’t want to help them but they forced me I didn’t know where you were but they knew just using me would attract them out of hiding.”

He was silent for a long time and it made you hate yourself more.

“It is not your fault my spark.”

The last of your sanity burst at his words as you began sobbing uncontrollably.

[marksbear]

could you write a dom male reader or an oc x marc spector? They have one teen son (adopted or fostered) and maybe another younger son and the kids are chaotic but they all love each other. Marc still has DID so steven and jake have appeared in the past and sometimes still do but since he feels safe and happy its a rare happening and the reader or the oc have autism? The sons love to bicker but the older son is very protective of his whole family and maybe the youngest son gets bullied at school so the oldest steps up and beats the crap out of everyone including an asshole parent :] and marc and the male reader were at home finally having an off day alone and things were getting steamy untillllll the school calls them 🙈

Took me a minute to write this, but nonetheless I hope you still enjoy it! I hope I wrote everything that you asked sorry if not! I love writing stuff for dad reader it's so fun!

Os/n= Older son name.

S/n= Son name.

Warning! Cussing, Lemon/spicy, making out, school fight, badass son, detailed fight, blood mentioned, shoving, pushing, stomping, punching. Laid back dads!

Dom Dad dilf reader x Dad Marc spector

Marc wakes up slowly from all the noise and yelling from outside his bedroom. Marc peaks open his eyes looking to the side of him.The spot on the bed was empty and still warm. Marc sits up and stretch’s his body. After a while Marc stands up from the bed walking outside of his bedroom.

Marc steps into the living room and looks around.

His youngest son S/n was on the floor drawing as his older brother beside him messing with him.

“Dad!! Os/n keeps messing with me!” The younger son shouts putting his pencil down before pushing Os/n away from him.

“Os/n! Stop messing with your brother.” Y/n shouts back from inside the kitchen.

“I’m not even messing with you stop being a crybaby!” Os/n says rolling his eyes.

“Hi dad!” S/n says greeting Marc with a smile while Marc does the same “Hi kid.” Marc says going over to him and crouches down messing up his hair.Marc turns to his side looking at his oldest son and reaches out his hand ruffling his hair.

“You boys come eat alright.” Marc says one last time before getting up going inside the kitchen. Marc stares at Y/n watching as he put the food on the plates.

“Need any help?” Marc asks moving forward to Y/n. “Nahh… I got it.” Y/n answers before turning his head around.

“Good morning! I woke up very early.” Y/n says putting the last plate of food down and moves closer to Marc wrapping his arms around him.

“Good morning, and why didn’t you wake me up then after you woke up?” Marc questions with a raise brow.Y/n doesn’t answer only closing the distance between them kissing Marc deeply on the lips. Marc melts into the kiss moving both of his hands to Y/n’s shoulders.

Y/n moves his hands on Marc’s hips brining him close. Marc ruts his hips into Y/n’s crotch as they makeout.

“Ahem!” Os/n clears his throat as he covers his little brothers eyes.

The two adults pull away from each other looking at the teenager.

“Sorry kid.” Y/n apologizes letting go of Marc’s hips and turns back around getting the plates of food.Os/n moves his hand away from his little brothers eyes and follows his dad into the dinning room.

Y/n puts the plates on the table waiting for everyone else to be in their seats before sitting down.

As the family eat S/n rambles on to his family about his latest school project. “A-and also that my teacher says that I may win 1st place!”

“No one cares S/n” The oldest son blurts out teasingly rolling his eyes as well. “Shut up!” S/n responds back shoving his brother a little.Marc only rolls his eyes at the kids antics and continues eating as his husband Y/n pick and stare at his food.

“You guys are gonna miss the bus if y’all keep arguing and not eating.” Y/n says randomly with a smirk. The boys stared at their father thinking to themselves.

“Your dad’s right, I’m pretty sure the bus is already in the neighborhood.” Marc adds before standing up.

The boys scramble to their feet rushing out of the dinner table going straight to their rooms to get their things.Marc laughs at the sight and starts to make the boys their lunch putting it in their bags.Y/n still is at the dinner table finishing his breakfast before anything.

Os/n is done first picking up his bag back and stands by the door waiting for his brother. “S/n! Hurry up before I leave you!” Os/n shouts tapping his foot impatiently.

S/n rushes out his room trying to fix his hair as he scrambled to put his bag back on.Os/n opens the door pushing S/n out before turning to his parents. “Bye dads!” Both boys says at the same time. Both parents wave off their sons watching them leave.

Once the boys were on their way to the bus stop Marc shuts the door and turns around to Y/n.

“You didn’t have to lie to them.” Marc says with a light chuckle walking back to his seat at the breakfast table.

“ I know… I just wanted us to have some alone time. And especially when we adopt a new baby.” Y/n says with a smile reaching out his hand to Marc’s thigh.“We’re gonna need all the time we can get. Even if that means lying to our kids about the bus almost being here.” Y/n adds in leaning in close to kiss Marc.

Marc closes the distance kissing Y/n on the lips passionately.

Y/n melts in the kiss standing up slowly from his chair as Marc does the same. Marc leans against the table as Y/n is in front of him holding onto his waist. Marc sits on the edge of the table wrapping his legs around Y/n’s hips.

Y/n wraps his arms Marc’s lower back holding him tight and close.

TIMESKIP

It was in the middle of the day of school only a few more class periods left and they’ll be done with the day.

Os/n walked around the halls with his friend group going to their next destination.

“And I’m telling you guys she was so fucking hot—“ Os/n gets cut off by bumping into someone.

“The fuck? What the hell.” Os/n breathes out looking around looking at the large crowd he just bumped into.

As Os/n and his friends push past the crowd trying to see what’s going on Os/n heat drops.

S/n bag back and his things were scrambled around the floor.

“Hey Os/n isn’t this your brothers bag?” One of his friends questions as she picks up the bag back and some of its stuff.

Os/n only tunes her out and feeling more determined to figure out what’s going on he pushes people out of his way.

“Get out of my way!” Os/n shouts pushing and shoving people.

Os/n steps in the middle of the circle of the source.

Os/n’s hands closes into a tight fist as his knuckles turns white.

S/n was on against the locker tears running down out of his eyes as kids no doubly bigger than him push and hit him.

Os/n drops his bag back running up to the group of guys grabbing onto the nearest guy shoulder spinning him around and punching him square in the face.

With the new found adrenaline Os/n moves around the boys fighting every single one of them.

Os/n fist flared around punching the boys where it would hurt the most.

As S/n leaned against the locker weakly as he watch his brother fight like hell.

Even though Os/n was clearly out numbered he still fought hard and clearly winning.

Once their was only one man left probably the leader Os/n pounced on him tackling him to the ground as he punch him in the floor repeatedly.

His hits were repeatedly aimed at the face and head even sometimes yanking the boy by his hair and slamming his head back down. Os/n fist were bruised and bloody as he punch the boy again and again. Os/n was on a rampage as he got off the boy and kicked him dead in the stomach.

As teachers run to the scene Os/n fights the boys who got back on their feet sending them back on the ground.

Finally once S/n went back to reality he pushed himself off the lockers and runs to his brother pulling him away as well as the teachers.

The kids who was recording and the others ran away the scene screaming and talking about it.

Teachers quickly pull Os/n and S/n out of the crowd and straight to the office.

TINY LITTLE TIMESKIP.

Both brothers sat side by side inside the front office waiting to be called in.

A parent probably one of the boys Os/n messed up was inside the office walked back and forth stressed.

“Is my boy going to be okay!?! I mean have you saw what that monster did to his face!” The parent screamed having no clue that the monster he’s talking about was in the same room.

“Sir please calm down—“ One of the staff says but gets cut off by the dad again.

“Calm down!?! How do you expect me to clam down especially knowing that some monster fought my kid! I swear to god if I meet that boy’s parents I swear! Who is that boys parents? Animals!?! Because obviously they aren’t real ones.”

The dad exclaims catching Os/n attention.

S/n side eyes looking at his older brothers pissed off face already knowing what’s going to happen.

“Hey asshole! What did you just say about my parents?” Os/n questions with a shout standing up from his chair. “Usually I don’t ask questions, but this time I wanna hear you say it.” Os/n adds walking closer to the parent unfolding his arms.

“So your the boy who stared all of this… Wow I can’t believe you or your idiotic parents—“ the man gets cut off by a fist swinging out out no where connecting to his cheek.

The father head turns to the side in pain and shock.

Os/n wastes no time to punch the man right in the stomach causing the man to hunch over. Os/n hand reaches out to the back of the man’s head grabbing onto his hair tightly before slamming it onto the wall.

Immediately staff pulls Os/n back as S/n grabs both of their things following them into a different room.

Once the adults left the room so it’s only the brothers in there S/n begins to panic.

“What if we get in trouble! Dads are gonna be so pissed! What if you get in jail!—“ S/n nervously blurts out but gets cut off by a pair of arms hugging him tightly.

In the room only soft sniffles could be heard as Os/n cry’s softly onto his brother. “I-I was so scared for you… I’m sorry that I wasn’t there fast enough.” Os/n says weakly as the guilt settles.

“W-were not gonna get in trouble alright. So don’t be scared alright dork.” Os/n says giving S/n a light kiss on the head.

WITH Y/N AND MARC

“Ohh!~ fuck Y/n!~ Hurry up and give it to me!~” Marc moans out as he laid on the bed legs out spread. Y/n held onto Marc’s thighs as he slowly moved the tip of his cock inside of Marc’s hole.

*Ring!!*

The men look away from each other at the phone of the dresser.

“Ignore it!~ HmMm please!~” Marc moans out as he grinds his ass against Y/n’s cock.“You know I can’t.” Y/n responds back rolling his eyes a little before reaching out to the night stand picking up the phone.

“Hello?” Y/n questions as he uses his free hand to jerk Marc off.

“Yes I am their father…” Y/n answers giving Marc a worried look.

“Mhm. Uhm yes I’ll be there with my husband.” Y/n says hanging up the phone.

“School called… And Os/n got into a very serious fight. They even said he fought a kids dad.” Y/n let’s go of Marc’s cock and moves off the bed walking into the closet getting clothes for the both of them.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to continue this later.” Marc says getting up from the bed.“Yeah… sorry.” Y/n apologizes as he puts underwear and pants on.

Marc cups Y/n face in his hands smiling at him.

“It’s not your fault Y/n…” Marc says giving Y/n a light kiss.

TIMESKIP

Marc and Y/n walked inside the office looking around for their kids.

Y/n takes a mental note of how messed up a group of boys and even a man looks.

“Fuck Os/n” Y/n thinks to himself before looking at the principles. The principles able gestures the man inside. With one last look at each other Marc and Y/n steps inside the office.

“Sorry if you two were busy.” The principles says looking at the both of them. Y/n shakes his head no with a smile taking a seat by Os/n as Marc sits by S/n.“The woman on the phone already gave me a run down about what’s going on so could we just go straight to the chase.” Y/n says as Marc talks to their sons getting their side of the story.

“We’ll witness says that S/n was getting bullied and his brother came and saved him, so the punishment won’t be to bad—“

“Punishment? You just said it yourself my son was getting bullied and his brother came and save him since everyone else wasn’t doing anything.” Y/n cuts off the man.

“I know Mr L/n, but there’s no excuse as to why Os/n fought an adult.”

“Because he was talking shit about me and my family!” Os/n exclaims.

“Can’t we just negotiate a reasonable punishment for my son and the other kids please.” Marc says as Y/n agrees. “If that what you’d two like to do.”

“Yes we’ll like that a lot.” Y/n says before adding “Could we host a meeting tomorrow here. It will be easier to talk to all the parents since some is probably working now.”

The principle nods and types in his computer probably documenting this.

“Well then… See you tomorrow. Nice talking with you and please tell the father that my son fought that I say my deepest apologies.” Marc says with a fake nice tone before standing up with the rest of his family leaving.

Once the family is leaving the school and at the parking lot waking to the car Marc breaks the silence.

“So I see you used some of my moves huh?” Marc teases looking at Os/n

“No! I was using my own moves you should had saw!”

THE END

[babyhedonistt]

Too Close To Touch // SIX

warning: violence, swearing

Bad Omens : Concrete forever , Show 19 / 20

It’s not like you wanted to wait this long to lose your virginity. You just never got around to it. And as far as you were concerned, first and last person you were ever with, just so happened to be Noah Sebastian, who broke your plump little 20 year old heart 3 years ago. Somehow, the universe keeps pushing you two back together. Your brother doesn’t even know the half of what went on between you two. You don’t want him to know. You shudder at the thought of Folio finding out that Noah took—

You shake your head at the thought. Red crept across your cheeks as you place your palms on your warm face to calm yourself down. Noah and your brother have been friends for as long as you could remember, but if Folio were to have found out that Noah did that with you…… he would want his head on a stick.

“Y/N.” Ruffilo snaps his fingers, and you snap out of your head. “Huh?” Your drumsticks almost roll out of your lap as Ruffilo was waving his hand at you while you were zoning out. “ I was asking if you wanted to come to the meet and greet with us.” His eyebrows crease, slightly concerned.

“I don’t see why I would. No one knows me as more than a substitute. Why can’t Folio go to the meet and greet? He’s not crippled.”

Ruffilo snorts. “He is coming. Noah just thought it would make sense if you were there too.”

You could physically see the confusion spread across your face when Ruffilo said this. He noticed it and shrugged. “Guess he had a change of heart. C’mon, it starts in 10.” He ushers his head to the door. You nodded and set the drum sticks on the table before pushing off your knees to stand up.

--

The meet and greet was chaotic. The boys were trying to get as many fans along as possible and you felt so out of place. You stood on the end, collecting dirty looks from every girl who stood in line. The minute they all took their photos, they gave inquiring looks as to why you were even there. You were used to being overlooked, you just don’t know why Noah even wanted you there.

The meet and greet paused for a brief intermission while everyone dispersed to the backstage area. Jolly and Folio getting a sip of water while Ruffilo was talking with Matt about the setup of the concert. You rubbed your eye, pulling out your pack of cigarettes from your pants pocket, heading towards the back door for a smoke break. The door to the outside opens outward which scares you nearly half to death as Noah stands in the doorway before grabbing your wrist, pulling you outside.

“Jesus CHRIST Noah.” You clutch your chest as his large hands rested on your hips, pulling the cigarette box fom your hand. “Now what were you planning on doing with these?” He asks, a grin pulling at his lips. “I’ve been trying to quit.” You lied. “Why aren’t you with the rest of the boys, out here?” You asked, trying to pull the box back from his hand but he holds behind his back.

“Needed a break from the goo goo eyes for a minute.” He chuckles. “Can you blame them?” You ask, sighing deeply. He merely shrugs before pulling you into a deep kiss. You let him take you for a minute before you put a hand on his chest, slightly pushing him back. “Noah, we’re going to get caught.” You explain, concern in your voice as you look around. “No we won’t. The others don’t even know about this area because they all quit smoking.” He chuckles. “Why did you add me to the meet and greet? The fans acted like I was the plague.

“Because, you’ve been helping this band, I’m sure at least a few fans would want to meet the drummer. Especially because you’re related to Folio.” He explains. Well he guessed wrong.

“I’m surprised they don’t want to burn me at the stake.” You shrug, looking at your feet. You could feel the confusion radiating from Noah. “I mean, it’s not like we kept our relationship private when we were together before, keeping it private now seems wrong.”

“3 years ago, our band wasn’t what it is now baby. I’m not ashamed of you. I’m just waiting for the right time.”

Anxiety filled your body as you took a deep breath. You couldn’t keep a secret from anyone and the fact that it felt like Noah was tying your hands, but that’s show biz wasn’t it?

“Hey.” He whispers, kissing your forehead gently before bringing his face to your level. His brown eyes were so captivating. You couldn’t look away from him. “Trust me. Okay?” He cups your cheek before kissing your lips gently, eerily gently, almost thinking if he were to kiss you any harder, you would disappear. The door shoved open behind the two of you which scared you both. Noah had slightly bitten your lower lip so you made a noise as he pulled away from you. You turned around and see Ruffilo standing in the door way, a look of surprise plastered on his face. You looked at Noah before looking back at Ruffilo. You felt warmth of embarrassment flush over your face before your fight or flight kicked in and you shoved past Ruffilo, back inside.

**Noah’s POV**

The minute Ruffilo opened that door, the entirety of my fucks flew right out my head. Did I want him to catch Y/N and I in the back alley? No. But was I upset that he did? No. It was going to get out eventually. Ruffilo doesn’t say anything before he steps outside, closes the door with a loud slam and shoves me square in the chest. I stumble back with a grunt before I catch myself from falling flat on my ass. “What the fuck, Nick?” I groaned, placing my hand on my chest, rubbing it softly. “I knew you were an idiot Sebastian, but I never took you as a fool.” He pointed at me. “Why the hell are you macking on Folio’s sister? Huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Don’t bullshit me. We’re almost done with our tour and you pull a stunt like this? I always knew you had feelings for her but I never thought you’d be stupid enough to act on them.”

Punch. I punched my best friend square in the jaw. The minute I did it I regretted it because he retaliated by shoving me and he started swinging. I’m not sure if it was the testosterone that got the best of me, or the feelings I had pushed down about Y/N for so long, but they finally reached the tipping point. Nick kept swinging at my face and I tried to hold his wrists when my voice of reason came back to my conscience, but he wouldn’t stop.

My lip split and I felt bruising starting to form around my eye, until I heard the door open. “Nick!” Matt rushes out of the building, followed by Jolly and Folio. Jolly and Matt try to pull Nick off of me. With a bit of a struggle, they were successful. Jolly helped me up and Matt was furious. “Just what the FUCK do you think you’re doing Ruffilo?” Matt yells, holding Nick by his chest until he had calmed down. Y/N peeked her face out of the door, trying not to be part of the fight. She genuinely looked crushed and frightened. Nick had never blown up like this before, let alone on his best friend. The minute her eyes landed on me and my fresh injuries she looked like she was going to cry.

“Nick, what the hell?” Folio asks. Nick chuckles, astonished as he shook his head. “You all are so oblivious. Noah’ s been fucking Y/N under all of our noses while our band is supposed to be nearing it’s peak.” The area filled with silence. “That’s not true Nick.” I tried to defend Y/N, only to earn an eye roll form him. “Please. I come out here to see you shoving your tongue down her throat. What, are you black mailing her to play for us? I wouldn’t put I by you, Noah.”

** END OF NOAH’S POV**

With that comment, you could tell something set Noah off because he tried to get out of Jolly’s grasp. You could see the flames light in his eyes as he approached Nick and grabbed him by the collar, shoving Matt aside briefly. “You ever say some shit like that about her, I don’t care if you are my best friend, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

“Noah.” Matt snaps as Noah lets Nick go, and doesn’t even bother to go back inside past you. He walks in the other direction, into the parking lot, and he doesn’t look back.

“Noah, get your ass back here right now, we have a show to do! You can’t leave!  Matt exclaims. Jolly starts slowly jogging after him before you lock eyes with your brother. You couldn’t read his face but you could see an exhale exit his chest before he walks towards you. “Come with me.” Folio whispers grabbing your wrist gently.

One thing about your brother, is that when he was quiet after something of this sort happens, shit was about to hit the fan.  

Thanks for the support babies <3 love you and your thoughts always

[onyourhyuck]

Special Mittens. | Park Jisung (M)

prologue- “You look beautiful wearing that apron and mittens on.”+ “ Special mittens saved the day.”

summary: your boyfriend Jisung is spending Christmas over at your family’s house for the first time. you’re nervous and excited because you are determined to move your relationship with jisung to the next level. But first you both need to get your mittens on and celebrate the holidays!

the warnings: Christmas lovers. First time sex type a thing. Jisung and Y/n are college sweethearts(?). Y/n finally goes back home to introduce her boyfriend to her family. Christmas theme. CONSENT. Suggestive. Wholesome fluff :)

notes- KINKMAS FIC.

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Cinnamon rolls and jingle bells ringing like a wind up carousel, you already know what time of the year it is. It’s the festive season. Your family take Christmas very seriously, always going full out and competitively at that. They were the family in the neighbourhood that try their hardest to be the best christmasy- decorated house with the most try hard obnoxious weirdest cardboards of santa clause and the reindeer crew.

At one point last year, your family managed to make a fountain of Santa Claus. All from their hands. Seriously, hand made santa clause statue??

You’re overwhelmed because Jisung is quite timid. Unlike your family, yours are much more on par between manically insane and heavily chaotic. Your family thrive on it. Jisung and his family are very much more laid back, chill and very comforting people who prefer to be reserved and peaceful. You’re a little over-worried about your boyfriend of five months, considering he’s nervous about making the best impression on your entire family.

He seeks their approval and their validation on here. You’re aware of it, he spoke about many scenarios late at night on facetime where he states if your family don’t like him, he might bury himself six feet below. If your family don’t like him, how will this relationship survive? You sorta understand him and his worrying but you don’t think he has much to worry about.

Your family are twice as excited to meet Jisung. You spoke only the good things (it’s not like he has anything bad flaws anyways) so really, all he has to be is to be himself.

“Wait. I’m scared.” Jisung stops your hand from ringing the front doorbell of the house. You turn around sighing deeply. “Ji you’re going to be fine.” You comfort the anxiousness tall boy standing next to you. The door swings open with your large family shoving to get through the entrance to greet and welcome the two of you.

Your mother reaches to hug Jisung first, completely dismissing you. You stand there with a blank smile, as your siblings rush to welcome you inside the house. Jisung’s overwhelming anxiousness was put to a stop once he was in your mother’s hands, nevertheless he is chaotically moving around in the house with your family members. Rushing side to side, helping out with the turkey and other side dishes— lunging himself towards your father who would be in the garage fixing the bicycle that one of your little siblings happened to break on their way to school. Paying attention to you was one thing he has not been able to do so, but it would be the same with you. You were completely invested in decorating the Christmas cookies that were in the oven baking.

Your little sister kneels down to watch the cookies inside the oven, gasping a little ‘wow’. “Hey Y/n when will they be finished?”

You smile. “In a few minutes. Now tag along to help grandma and grandpa with setting the dining table.” The little girl with two pigtails nods rushing out the kitchen. Behind you would stand a taller figure, your boyfriend with a sheepish smile flashing to you. Something you grew to be wary of.

“What’s that smile for?” You interrogate with gushing suspicion of your boyfriend who seems a little too playful right now, it was like he was questioning and teasing you of something you’ve done. Or rather someone you know. He lightly shrugs his shoulders towards you and leans to the kitchen counter.

Jisung sweetly sang. “Ohh nothing.”

Your face drops at the words, it most definitely did not seem like ‘nothing’ in that tone and facial expression. It was so obvious he had something to say. You sigh out. “Whatever you want to say, say it.”

Jisung straightens his body posture no longer leaning on the kitchen counter. He kept behind you as he truthfully and fully spoke. “You look beautiful wearing that apron and mittens on. Domestic lifestyle looks good on you.”

The way those compliments roll of his lips like poetry made you seemingly weak on the knees. You brush it away however putting up a tough act. Not wanting to get flustered over such small words from him; it’s ridiculous. The slightest compliment he does makes your confident boost high and higher than before. It’s his fault if you end up having a goddamn god complex. You kneel down watching the cookies in the oven, rather turning your attention on to that. Jisung slowly ventured closer to your body till his arms reach down to your waist. With a single impactful pull he had you close to his body from behind where he towers over you. The height difference was visible. You reach perfectly to his chest halfway. He had so many inches on you, it was impossible to ignore the cute feature between you two.

His hands slide to your waist and around your stomach where he caressed it. Palming your stomach in gentle and affectionate manner. His head fell into your nape inhaling your scent. His hair prickles your skin on your shoulders and your face grew into a wide smile.

He whispers close to your ears. “I finally have time to spend with you. Your family are lovely though. I really worried my ass off for nothing.” You couldn’t agree more. Your family were going to love him anyways. You turn around to face him, your eyes land upon his lips as he was staring you down with love-struck-eyes.

“God you’re distracting me Jisung.” You fully blame him for the way he takes your mind and makes it his home. You can barely focus on Christmas.

��I’m glad.” Jisung proudly tells you as his hands crawl to cup your sides jawline. “Y/n. What would you say if i want to…”

He pauses abruptly making your ears perk up. The butterflies in your stomachs couldn’t be contained and no longer were they only floating in your stomachs, they fill your heart now too. It’s the way he stops to look at you, as if he were rethinking the decisions if he should say what he wants to say. Your intuition is telling you he wants to finally take the relationship to the next level just like you— to finally sleep together. You’ve been waiting for the perfect moment. You weren’t in a rush to lose it with him. You’re both as inexperienced as the other. But perhaps this could be a new awakening for the both of you? Christmas is supposed to be a new beginning for couples. Maybe, this is the perfect time to move into the next chapter of your relationship.

You softly reply back. “Jisung whatever you want to say i will not judge.”

“I know baby.” Jisung says against your head as he plants a kiss on your skulls crown. “I was thinking we could…Y’know maybe do it tonight?”

Your eyes light up as if your prayer was heard from god. You smile. “Really? Are you sure?” He hums. “After seeing your family and you being so happy around them. It made me think maybe we are ready to actually go into that stage of a relationship.”

“And…I do want to marry you in the future.” Jisung cutely mutters quietly though your ears heard every word clearly. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into a warm kiss. “I am dating to marry. I wouldn’t of asked for a better marriage material.”

“Yah! The cookies! Stop flirting in middle of my kitchen!”

A voice brings out a sudden shock from the both of you. An older and feminine striking tone that seems to be scolding you for almost burning the damn house down. Your mother sighs when she sees you push aside Jisung who looks as flustered as a tomato; you bring your mittens back on and grab the scorching tray with nearly burnt Christmas cookies. You sigh nervously.

Jisung whispers awkwardly to you as your mother shakes her head. “Special mittens saved the day.” She can’t believe you guys would makeout in front of the Christmas cookies that aren’t too badly down. Thankfully.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! REBLOG THIS FIC AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE UPDATES.

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ King of Calm }

Summary: Steven takes ridiculously good care of Emma while she's having a rough mental health moment. Pairing: Original Character { Emma Harper } x Steven Grant, mentions of Emma Harper x Marc Spector && Emma Harper x Jake Lockley Contents: fluff, psychic connection, energy healing, hurt/comfort esque, happy ending Warnings: severe mental illness { hallucinations, overwhelm, overstimulation, anxiety, instability } didn't super go into detail in the piece but it's kinda the main part of this one. nothing else really I don't think? Author's Note: Was gonna do some more angst and then I just couldn't last night. This piece had been sitting in my wip drafts for a bit. This one does again, tap on the psychic connection between Emma and the boys that is prevalent in most of my works. They are deeply connected and can communicate telepathically, empathetically, etc. You'll notice Emma is able to hear everything in their minds and vice versa. Word Count: 771

She can feel her mind’s instability, her brain seeming to be sore and weak. As the overstimulation begins to take over more, her breath begins to get more shallow.

Everything is too loud, too bright even as she puts in her earbuds and turns on some music known for its nervous system regulatory effects. She hides her face beneath a pillow to get away from the light.

“You’re up, Steven,” Marc says quietly as he makes his way down the hallway, relinquishing control of the body.

Steven freezes for a moment as he adjusts, mumbling, “Cheers, mate...” He doesn’t pause again until he slides up behind her in the bed, kissing her shoulder firmly.

‘Hello, love…’ he murmurs in her mind softly.

Emma’s quick to scoot back into him, settling into his arms as she tries to focus on any one thing.

He tightens his arms around her, giving another slow kiss to the nape of her neck. He breathes deeply against her, settling a hand onto her abdomen as if silently encouraging her to breathe with him.

She follows suit almost immediately, taking in each inhale with him and releasing it on his exhale.

She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, clutching the pillow over her eyes more snugly.

Steven’s thumb gently grazes over her stomach, releasing a soft sympathetic sound as he attunes himself to her presently chaotic mind.

‘You’re alright, angel—we’ll pull through just like we always do…’ His warm voice resonates through her mind, not wanting to overwhelm her even more.

At his words, she shifts to face him, hugging herself tightly to his front and hiding her face in his neck. One of her earbuds falls out and he’s quick to retrieve it and return it to its place.

He then begins rhythmically stroking his fingers up and down her spine, tucking his head over hers protectively.

Minutes pass as he continues to do what he can to soothe her overstimulation. Truthfully, he’s not sure it’s as effective as he hopes but he doesn’t stop.

She takes what seems to be a much deeper breath on her own, as well that her body seems to unwind a little.

He's relieved to say the least as she continues to slow down, her thoughts quieting.

Emma can feel a low buzz resonating out through her spine into the rest of her body, likewise traveling up into her brain. It feels so nice and so peaceful—not to mention familiar, that she starts to wonder.

She frowns lightly, shifting back away from him just enough to face him.

“Steven…”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you—…did you just—”

His scowl of concentration matches her own, suddenly more worried again, “what is it? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” She murmurs, a little stunned, “it just felt like you were—…performing reiki…on me…”

“Oh bollocks, did I do it wrong? I was just—I mean—I thought it might ‘elp ya know—take the edge off and—bugger, I didn’t ask for consent first and—”

“Steven—Steven!” She calls gently to him, shaking her head and putting a hand to his cheek. “You didn’t do it wrong…and it did help…” She reassures him, giving him a soft smile.

“When did you learn how to do that?”

“Well, I just—y’know—I find so much of well—what you do, absolutely fascinating and I figured—‘f one ‘ve us knew how to do some of the healing bits it might help, what with y’know your conditions…’course Marc could do with some bloody healing t—”

She can’t help but beam at him as he rambles, silencing him before he can finish by rushing forward to catch his lips.

Steven’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips forming to hers in surprise but quickly moving firmly against them.

His eyes squeeze shut tighter as he shifts to pull her closer, almost completely forgetting everything else for a split second before retreating. Stumbling quietly, “maybe we shouldn’t, ya know…--I mean you aren’t feeling well…”

Emma rolls her lips in, the dimples dipping into her cheeks, her lashes fluttering shyly as she tells him softly, “thank you…”

When she gives him that look, he all but short circuits, getting stuck on her with a lopsided grin at his mouth, half in a daze, “For what, love?”

She pokes him in the chest a few times, timidly, “you know what…”

Quietly in their minds they can both hear a smug, ‘Steven Grant, King of Calm…’

Emma’s eyes flash down, trying to conceal a smile and failing as her cheeks begin to heat.

‘Oh yeah—overstimulation doesn’t stand a chance…’

[spencer-charnas-ix]

The Day in the Life of SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner - A Criminal Minds Fanfic

A/N: Credits for this idea go to @criminal-minds-quotes and credits to @cassioxpeiaxmgg for telling me to write this madness because this was so much fun to write, and I just wanted to make Hotch really sassy, sarcastic and petty because it's funny lol 🤣 SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner's day in the BAU was typical, except when he had to deal with his chaotic work children. Hotch walked into the bullpen, Coffee in hand. His eyes were baggy, but he still looked bright and professional in his crisp suit. 'This is going to be a long day...thank God for coffee,' he thought as he walked past his chaotic work children who were causing chaos as usual, whilst he was wishing he could have a break. Just one damn break! Was it so hard to ask for? In Hotch's case. Yes. Yes, it was. It would have to be a miracle for him to actually have a long break. Hotch walked into his office, sat in his chair, sipped his coffee and sighed deeply, waiting for the caffeine to kick into his system. Just then, he heard a knock on the door. "Come in..." Aaron said, sipping his coffee, waiting for the chaos to ensue. SSA David Rossi, Hotch's best friend and co-worker, walked in and said, "Hey Aaron, we've got that meeting with the BAU directors in a few minutes." Hotch facepalmed, "Oh, for god's sake, I hate those meetings; they're so boring, even for me! A person who likes meetings." "Look, let's just get this over with; I even bought some liquid luck." Rossi pulled a flask of whiskey from his jacket pocket, opened it, and sipped it, handing it to Hotch, who also sipped from it. "Well, here goes nothing", Hotch said, taking a deep breath, handing the flask back to Rossi as they walked off to the meeting. Hotch was sitting in his chair, bored out of his mind during the meeting. He looked off into the distance, wanting to be in his office working. "Agent Hotchner, do you have anything to add about the safety of the BAU?" Erin Strauss asked as Hotch just rolled his eyes

"Yeah, tell them to cry a damn river, and yes, I put them in bad situations, but who cares? I have to deal with my team, or as I call them, my chaotic, mentally ill work children, with Rossi's help since he's my work husband."

Apart from Rossi, who was on the verge of trying not to laugh, everyone was stunned. "But what about your team?"

"Oh please, they're way too mentally ill not to get into trouble; just last week, I had to stop Emily from setting something on fire again." "I-how did that happen?" "Derek gave her a lighter and told her to 'do crime', and then, well, she tried setting fire to the bullpen; it was chaos." "Right, I see, but it's bad; you do it all the time and it's rude-" "Oh, your feelings are hurt; oh no, do I need to call a wahhhbulance?" Hotch mocked sarcastically "Hotch, what the hell has gotten into you?" Another person in the meeting asked, raising an eyebrow in shock

Rossi kept trying not to laugh, but it was getting harder each time for him to hold in his laughter. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I just think this meeting is so boring that I'd rather listen to Reid blabber on about something for hours," Hotch replied sarcastically. Meanwhile, Rossi couldn't take it anymore and fell on the floor laughing his head off; everyone turned to look at him in shock, except for Hotch, who was just trying not to laugh himself. "Hotch, you're being way out of line-" Erin said, annoyed as Hotch interrupted her scoffing. "Oh, I'm sorry, Karen. What are you going to do? Speak to the manager or, better yet, throw a tantrum?" Aaron said condescendingly as he rolled his eyes, checking his nails Rossi ended up laughing his head off as he rasped, "THAT'S MY WORK, WIFE!! YOU GO HOTCH" he cackled as tears of laughter ran down his face After the meeting was over, Hotch was in his office with Rossi, drinking some whiskey and laughing "I cannot believe you said all that," Rossi said, sipping his whiskey Hotch laughed. "I regret nothing from it" Rossi chuckled. "I still can't believe you called Erin a Karen" "David, you know as well as I do that she's a Karen sometimes." "More like all the time." Both Hotch and Rossi burst out laughing and continued sipping whiskey and continuing their day as the tired, work parents of the BAU

[mcu-binge]

Love in Brooklyn pt 16

**SMUT WARNING**

Steve knew I'd been struggling, even if I tried to hide it for days. I'd lost my home, my sense of security, and nearly every connection to my old life. My family and friends thought I'd just vanished, and I couldn't contact them to explain why. All of it weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. So, when Steve appeared beside me, a soft smile on his face, I immediately felt my nerves settle just a bit.

"Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "Come with me. I have a surprise."

Curiosity tugged at me. "A surprise? Steve, you didn't have to—"

"Just trust me," he said, offering his hand. I took it, letting him lead me down a dimly lit hallway and up to the rooftop of the compound.

The moment we stepped outside, I gasped. He'd set up a small table under strings of soft, warm lights. There were flowers—wildflowers, like the kind you'd pick on a hike I could see the roots and dirt pooling at the bottom. The thought of Steve running around the woods collecting flowers made my heart happy—and even a couple of candles flickering in the gentle breeze. It wasn't extravagant, but it was thoughtful, and in this chaotic life we were trapped in, it was perfect.

"Steve...," I whispered, touched beyond words. "You did all this?"

He shrugged, a shy smile spreading across his face. "I just thought you deserved a little normalcy. It's something...just for us."

We sat down, and he poured me a glass of wine, his eyes never leaving mine as he handed it over. For a few minutes, we simply ate and talked about silly things—memories of Brooklyn, favorite foods, embarrassing childhood stories. I almost forgot we were stuck in the middle of a crisis.

But as we sat there, he grew serious, setting his fork down and reaching for my hand. "Dani, there's something I need to talk to you about."

I nodded, bracing myself. "What's on your mind?"

"I know you're not used to this life. And I know how much it's taken from you," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "But I need you to be prepared. If it ever comes down to it...I need to know you can protect yourself."

I swallowed, trying to push back the doubt that crept in. "Steve, I don't know. This world—it's so far from anything I ever imagined. I feel like I'm just...in the way. I mean, I almost got Bucky killed for my recipe book."

"You're not in the way," he said firmly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. "You're brave, Dani. I can see it. You just need the right guidance. Let me help you, please. It's the last thing I'd ever want, but if something happened and I wasn't there to protect you... I need to know you can take care of yourself. We have the best people in the world to teach you."

There was a vulnerability in his voice that made my heart ache. I could feel how much he wanted to shield me from every danger, how deeply he cared. And somehow, seeing that made me want to be the person he believed I could be. If he could see that strength in me, maybe it was there after all.

I took a shaky breath, nodding. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll train. For you."

A look of relief washed over his face, and his hand tightened around mine. "Thank you, Dani."

Silence stretched between us, comfortable and warm. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and I felt...safe. It was surreal, considering everything that had happened, but here, with Steve, it felt like the world had faded away.

After a while, he reached across the table, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of my jaw. "You're incredible, you know that?"

I felt my cheeks heat up, but I held his gaze, a small smile on my lips. "I think you might be a little biased."

"Maybe," he murmured, leaning closer. "But I know a good thing when I see it."

And just like that, the tension in my chest loosened. In the middle of all this chaos, Steve had a way of grounding me, reminding me of who I was. And for the first time in days, I felt something stir in me—a flicker of hope.

"I always thought our first date would be going out for a dance," he started and I saw him pull out his phone. "And I know this isn't exactly the ambiance we would get from at an actual nice place." He pressed play and I heard a song begin to play, nothing I recognized but I'm sure it must've been a favorite of his. pulled me into a quiet dance, humming softly as we swayed under the lights, just the soft hum of the city and his steady heartbeat against mine. And for a moment, everything felt...right.

After a few quiet moments of swaying in Steve's arms, he pulled back slightly, looking down at me with an affectionate smile. "Come on," he said, still holding my hand as he led me back inside. "There's one more thing we need to go over."

As we walked through the halls of the compound, I could feel the lingering warmth of our rooftop dinner still holding me steady. But all of that faded quickly when we turned a corner and found Tony waiting in the briefing room, several folders spread out on the table in front of him.

"Good evening, lovebirds," he greeted us with a smirk, though his tone turned serious as he gestured for me to sit down. "I figured it was time to walk you through your training schedule."

I blinked, momentarily stunned as I sat down and glanced over the paperwork. Each folder had my name on it, along with a daunting series of words like "Boxing Basics," "Hand-to-Hand Combat," "Knife Techniques," and even "Firearms 101."

Tony adjusted his glasses and tapped the table, pointing to the schedule. "We're putting you on a pretty intensive program, Dani. Boxing and close-combat training with Steve," he started, nodding toward Steve, who gave me an encouraging smile. "Knife and gun training with Barnes. And basic self-defense with Natasha." The weight of his words settled over me like a lead blanket. I tried to take a deep breath, but each name, each skill they wanted me to master, pressed in on me, making my heart race. Fighting with Steve was one thing, but knives? Guns? A whole new wave of doubt crept in. Could I really handle all of this?

Seeing my expression, Tony softened his tone, but he didn't sugarcoat it. "Look, Dani, we're throwing a lot at you. It's going to be hard, probably the hardest thing you've ever done. They'll be bruises and injuries. But we don't do this because we think you're helpless. We do it because there's a fire in you, and we're going to make sure it's ready for anything."

My fingers fidgeted with the edge of the folder, my mind swirling. I could feel Steve's reassuring presence beside me, but it was the look in Tony's eyes that kept me grounded. He wasn't trying to scare me—he was being honest.

Taking a shaky breath, I finally spoke, trying to keep my voice steady. "So...boxing, knives, guns, and self-defense...oh my." I joked trying to lighten the mood despite the anxiety tugging at my stomach.

Tony chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Now that's the spirit. I knew there was some fight in you."

I straightened up a little, squaring my shoulders. "Alright, then. I'll do it. I don't know if I'll be any good, but I'll give it everything I've got."

"That's all we ask," Steve said softly, his hand resting on my shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

Tony gave me one last look, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "Welcome to the team, Dani. Now go get some rest. Training starts tomorrow at sunrise."

With that, he gave me a nod and walked out, leaving Steve and me alone in the quiet room.

I looked down at the folders in front of me, the list of skills I'd need to learn feeling both daunting and exciting. "Guess I better get ready," I said, standing up and glancing back at Steve with a smirk. "And you better be prepared to teach me everything you know."

He grinned, a playful gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I think you'll be a quick learner. Something tells me you're tougher than you look."

I chuckled, but inside, I knew he was right. I'd already lost so much. It was time to gain something back—to take control of my life, no matter how terrifying it might be.

—————

As we settled into bed, Steve reached for the remote, scrolling through the endless list of movies until he found it—the one we'd both somehow always loved, a classic that never seemed to get old. Dirty Dancing.

"You sure you're up for this one?" he teased, glancing over with that gentle smile that made his eyes crinkle just slightly.

I nudged him playfully. "Please, I'm the one who introduced you to this masterpiece."

He chuckled, pressing play as he shifted to get comfortable, one arm sliding under my shoulders. I leaned into him, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat a gentle backdrop to the opening credits. It felt safe, easy. Everything else faded away as we sank into each other and into the familiar lines we both knew by heart.

15 minutes in, I felt his hand lazily tracing circles on my arm, grounding me in a way I couldn't quite put into words. The movie played on, but I found myself watching him more, the little details—the way he'd chuckle at the funny parts, the way he'd glance down at me like he was taking a mental picture.

"You're missing the best part," he whispered, noticing me looking at him instead of the screen.

"Maybe," I whispered back, "but I kind of like this view." My words seemed to have an effect on him and he put his head down to kiss me. The sweet kiss soon enough turned into a sensual battle for dominance. He pulled away and I lifting my head not wanting to stop and I saw a smirk on his lips. "Watch the movie Daniela." He said sternly and the way he said my name made me crave him immediately. He moved me so I lay on my side his front pressed against my back. I felt his hand come around me and he slipped it into my shorts.

He ran his fingers below my belly button making me giggle.

"So you're ticklish," he whispered in my ear. I kept my eyes on the TV and nodded.

"And I don't like being tickled," I warned. He stopped and brought his hand up my shirt. My breath hitched when he cupped my boob.

"How do you say boobs in Spanish?" He asked taking me by surprise

"What?" I laughed.

"Tell me." He pressed as he massaged me. "I wanna know."

"Well there's a few ways to say it especially in slang terms. You can say tetas, chichis, the formal way would be senos."

"Hmmmm I love your tetas." He whispers in my ear making me laugh. Captain America just said tetas what is my life. I stopped laughing when I felt his pinch my nipple. He circled it various times with his index finger and a moan escaped my lips. "Did that feel good?" He asked in a low raspy voice. I nodded my head and pushed my back against him I could feel his hard on pressed against my ass.

"You're so soft," he whispered as his hand trailed down my abdomen back into my shorts. "So beautiful." He adds against my neck I feel his fingers against the place I desperately want him to touch. He starts with small circles with the just he right amount of pressure. 

"Mmmm, that feels so good," I said softly. I feel his finger move down to collect my excitement. My mouth hangs open as I watch him bring his fingers to his mouth. His eyes closed as he wrapped his mouth around his fingers. When he opened them I didn't see the light blue eyes I was used to. They were dark--lustful. He leaned down kissing me. I felt him pulling my shorts down with one hand and quickly helped him take them off. 

"I need to feel you," I said as he kissed me. My hands came down to his shorts and I slide them down. He kicked them off and took his shirt off. I looked up at him marveling at how amazing he looked. He hovered over me, but I moved fast and pinned him down on the bed.

"I see the training with Nat went well." He huffed with a proud smile. I kissed his lips and then started making my way down his jaw to his neck enjoying how hard he was breathing. I continued down his chest and defined abs until I made it to his rock hard dick. I grabbed it at the base and teasingly ran my tongue across the tip tasting him. I moaned and moved my hand to stroke him slowly. I put my lips around the tip and continued to stroke him.

"Dani..." he moaned softly. I flicked my tongue against him and his hips bucked up pushing him further into my mouth. "Take more of it," he encouraged and I immediately pushed my head down further. "Good girl." He praised. I bobbed my head up and down using my hands on what I couldn't fit in my mouth. "Your mouth feels so good," he moaned. I removed my mouth and decided I had waited enough. I got up to straddling him. My wet heat against his throbbing member. I moved my hips grinding down on it slowly at first then adding more pressure. I moaned as his tip rubbed my clit just right. His hands came to my hips and he guided me. I looked down at his face seeing his eyes closed and mouth parted open in pleasure. I lifted my hips and reached down to grab his member. I teased it against my entrance a few times hearing him moan when he felt how tight I was. 

I finally lined him up and began easing onto it. I gasped at the feeling and stopped.

"Are you ok?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Yeah, I just need to adjust."

"Ok baby take your time," he encouraged even through I could see how much he wanted more. I sinked down on the rest of it and screwed my eyes shut. He gripped my thighs tightly, his breaths coming out short and shallow. I rocked my a little bit and his grip got tighter.

"You're so tight." He said with his eyes closed. I brought my hands to his chest and circled my hips. I felt his hand come up and grab a fist full of my hair bringing me down to his mouth. I felt his hips move up taking me by surprise. I moaned against his mouth as he did it again and again hitting me in just the right spot. My legs began to shake and that familiar build up was growing. Steve moved suddenly and put me on my back. He hooked his hands behind my knees spreading my legs wide looking down at me hungrily before inserting himself back inside me. The new angle feeling better. I reached up and gripped his biceps. He thrusted him hips so hard the sound of slapping skin was loud over the movie. He reached down between us rubbing me where we met. I moaned at the feeling loving every second of it.

"You like that?" He asks.

"I love it," I reply. He leans in to give me a kiss and brings my left leg up. "You're so deep." I moan louder. 

"I want you to come all over me." He says against my ear. "I want to feel it," he orders and it turns me on even more. I begin to feel the familiar buildup and he doesn't stop. "that's it," he coos moving to kiss my neck. "Tighten up." He hits my g-spot just right over and over again and I feel myself come undone with a string of curse words coming out of my mouth. "Good girl." He says as he continues to thrust into me. A few seconds later I feel him twitch inside of me and the warmth of his release. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and his body falls limp on mine. 

"You did so good," he praised moving to lay next to me. He brought my body close to his and he embraced me for a while. I loved feeling his heartbeat and rapid breathing. 

"That was amazing." I said pressing a kiss to his chest. He grinned, pulling me in closer, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. We stayed that way, wrapped in each other, letting the movie fill the spaces between us. And for a little while, it was just us—no worries, no danger, just us and the quiet comfort of being together. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

———-

As I stepped onto the mat, I could feel the intensity radiating from Natasha before we even began. She was already in full Black Widow mode, and while she wasn't saying much, her stance and the steely look in her eyes said everything: this wasn't going to be easy, and that was the whole point.

"Alright, Dani," Natasha said, motioning for me to take up a defensive stance, "I know you're new to this, but you need to be prepared for anything."

I nodded, swallowing my nerves as she squared off with me. "Show me what you got," she added, her voice calm but serious.

I threw a jab as she instructed, and she blocked it effortlessly, her movements fluid and razor-sharp. Then, before I could even react, she countered with a quick flick of her wrist, a maneuver meant to test my reaction speed. I stumbled a bit but managed to pivot out of her reach, finding my footing again.

Nat didn't ease up. For the next several minutes, she tested my limits, pushing me with calculated moves and precise strikes that forced me to stay alert. The more she challenged me, the quicker I adapted. Each correction she gave me—"Keep your guard up," "Move your feet," "Watch your balance"—clicked in my mind. My arms were starting to shake, but I could feel myself catching on.

"Not bad, Dani," she said, a rare smile breaking through her serious demeanor. "Let's try something a little harder."

She feinted left, and instinctively, I dodged, remembering her advice to move my feet. Just as I thought I'd sidestepped her, she took hold of my arm, sweeping her leg under mine and sending me down to the mat. I landed with a grunt, my whole body jolting with impact. But as soon as I hit the floor, I was already thinking about how to avoid it next time.

"Alright," I said, pulling myself up, breathless but grinning. "Bring it on."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly approving of my persistence. "Good," she replied, a hint of respect in her voice. "Let's keep going."

With each round, I could feel myself growing more confident, more resilient. Natasha's encouragement was subtle—a nod, a slight smile—but it fueled me, and I found myself wanting to push harder, prove myself worthy.

As the session ended, I stood on shaky legs, drenched in sweat but exhilarated. Natasha walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You did well today, Dani," she said softly. "Keep this up, and you'll surprise even yourself."

As exhausted as I was, her words made me feel powerful. It was the first time I thought maybe—just maybe—I could handle this.

As I wiped the sweat from my forehead after the intense session with Natasha, I noticed Bucky leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a smirk that was both playful and... something else. His eyes held that confident gleam, the kind that spoke of someone who knew exactly how to get under my skin.

"Look at you, taking on the Widow herself and still standing," he drawled as he sauntered over. "Color me impressed, darling."

"Darling?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow, but couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at my lips. "Isn't that a bit old-fashioned, Barnes?"

He chuckled, shrugging one shoulder as he came to stand right in front of me. "Call it a classic." His eyes flickered down to my hands as I flexed them. "Besides, suits you. Though after seeing you hold your own out there, maybe I should call you a doll instead."

"Doll?" I shot back, crossing my arms and trying to look unimpressed.

He laughed, low and smooth. "GI Jane." I rolled my eyes at his stupid joke and watched as he reached into his jacket, he pulled out a knife, and not just any knife—this one had a worn leather handle, clearly used but well cared for. He held it out to me, the metal catching the light. "Figured I'd loan you one of my favorites. If you're serious about learning, that is."

I took the knife, turning it over in my hands, feeling the weight of it, the texture of the leather. "You're trusting me with one of your prized possessions already?" I teased, glancing up at him. "I thought that came after the divorce?"

Bucky's smirk softened into something warmer, his gaze steady. "Relax, just don't go putting any nicks in it, alright? Or do I need to start you off with the dummy version?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I tried to ignore the way his closeness made my pulse quicken. "Oh please. You think I can't handle the real thing?"

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little. "you talk big for someone who's still figuring out her stance."

My eyes narrowed, refusing to back down. "Keep pushing me, Barnes, and maybe I'll show you just how 'big' I can talk with this knife."

His grin widened, his voice dropping a little as he said, "Now that's what I like to hear."

I tried to ignore the warmth flooding my cheeks and pointedly turned toward the practice dummy. "Alright, since you're so eager to be impressed, let's get started. Where do I aim?"

He stepped up behind me, his presence solid and warm. Reaching over, he adjusted my grip on the knife, his hand lingering on mine longer than necessary. "Right there." His voice was low, almost a murmur in my ear. "Now, aim for the chest—straight in, twist, pull back."

I took a steadying breath, focused, and made my move. The knife hit the target close to where he'd indicated, though not perfect. I glanced over at him, expecting that cocky smirk, but his expression was surprisingly... approving.

"Not bad for your first try," he said, crossing his arms. "But let's see if you can do it again without flinching.

"Oh, I can do this all day," I shot back, echoing a line I'd heard Steve say a hundred times.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Alright, then. Show me what you got, doll."

With that, we settled into a rhythm. He'd demonstrate a move, then step back and let me try. Every now and then, he'd throw out a teasing comment, like, "You call that a grip?" or "Don't go getting soft on me, now." And every single time, I'd fire something right back, refusing to let him get the last word.

As we were wrapping up, I felt the burn in my muscles, but the satisfaction of actually getting the hang of something for once. Bucky was leaning against the wall, watching me with that same smirk as he tossed the dummy knife up and down in his hand.

"Alright, doll," he said, nodding toward the target I'd just hit dead center. "I gotta admit, you've got a little fight in you. Who knew?"

I snorted, trying to act unfazed. "Maybe you're just easy to impress."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Keep thinking that, sweetheart." His voice softened, almost serious. "But if you keep this up, you might actually give me a run for my money someday."

"Someday?" I repeated, feeling a bit bold as I held his gaze. "I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it right now."

His smirk faded just slightly, his eyes flickering down to my lips before he straightened up and slipped the knife back into his jacket. "Guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?" His voice was low, almost a murmur, but his eyes held that spark of challenge I was starting to get used to. "Same time tomorrow, sweetheart. Try not to let me down."

With one last wink, he turned and strolled out, leaving me there, heart pounding and completely thrown off balance.

After Bucky left, I stood alone in the quiet training room, the steady hum of my heartbeat the only sound. The sharp scent of metal and sweat lingered in the air, and I closed my eyes, still feeling the weight of his hand as he'd corrected my grip, his voice low in my ear, calling me "doll" like it was some kind of secret nickname just for us.

The practice knife felt solid in my palm, a grounding reminder of everything that had changed so quickly. Only a few weeks ago, I was just Dani—head baker, daughter, occasional optimist. Now, here I was, training to fight, to survive, to actually defend myself.

My mind drifted back to Bucky's parting words, his steady gaze, the way his voice dropped just a bit when he called me "sweetheart." It was disarming—dangerous even—but I pushed it aside. I had to focus. Steve's face flashed in my mind, his reassuring smile, his unwavering presence. This wasn't about anyone else, not even Bucky. This was about proving to myself that I could handle this new life, that I was capable, and that no one would ever catch me unprepared again.

I walked to the far side of the room, switching off the lights, but I stopped before leaving. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall, I saw the way I was standing just a little taller, the faintest trace of a bruises from Natasha's earlier training already beginning to show.

Despite everything, a small, unexpected smile tugged at my lips. Maybe I was tougher than I'd thought. And maybe, just maybe, I was ready to face whatever came next.

With one last glance at the darkened training room, I walked out, determined to keep my focus—and my heart—in check.

[lost-girl-2021]

In the last chapter, Spider mentions how his dad helped him comb his hair for twenty minutes. Can you write a one shot with it? That sounds so sweet

I've been meaning to respond to this for forever, but here it (finally) is.

Spider’s hair process was chaotic and ever-changing. Despite his friends trying to help him manage the ever-growing curls for actual years, he didn’t have the patience to put care into his hair most of the time. He liked his long hair, but hated to waste time with it. Ponytails and beanies existed for a reason.

At the same time, he wasn’t really surprised with how knotted his hair had gotten since the last time he’d washed it. Sitting on the bedroom floor of his father’s apartment with part of a broken comb, trying to yank out the other half, he regretted his lack of care.

From the open doorway, his father appeared, brow raised. “You okay, tiger?”

Spider frowned up at Quaritch, holding up the busted plastic.

The man snorted. “Need a hand?”

The teenager stared at his father’s short hair. He wondered if his help would just make things worse. Then again, he wasn’t sure if it could get worse at that point. He sighed deeply, which the man seemed to take as a yes. He disappeared into the bathroom for a minute before returning with a handful of products, pulling Spider’s desk chair so he could sit behind him.

“What is all of that?” Spider wondered as his father sat down. “You have, like, an inch of hair.”

“And you have, like, a couple feet of it.” He joked, waving a spray bottle in front of his face. “This is Detangler. And I got this curl cream shit— so you go from sasquatch to nice young man.”

Spider doubted a hair product could do that. Still, he let the sweet-smelling stuff get sprayed onto the worst of his curls, his father going section by section to detangle his hair. He started at the ends, something Spider remembered Kiri doing for him in the past. Spider never really saw the point— why bother starting at the end when he’d have to brush back over it again anyways? Then again, Kiri had never lost a comb in Spider’s hair. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” He asked after a few moments, scrunching his nose.

“Who do you think maintained these curls when you were a baby? Your mama’s idea of hair care was using as much spray and gel as possible to slick it back.”

Oh. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“I also changed your diapers.” The man reminded. “And fed you baby sludge. You loved peas.”

“Gross.”

“Nah, it wasn’t gross until you’d try to offer me some.” Quaritch chuckled. “You used to get pissed when I wouldn’t eat it.”

Spider rolled his eyes. “You’re weird.”

“At least I don’t have half a comb stuck in my hair.”

“I had it handled.” He frowned down at the remaining half still in his hands. “It’s the cheap-ass comb’s fault.”

“Sure it is, son.”

[axailslink]

Hi love! I hope you’re well, it’s starting to get cold outside and Im not sure if you’re experiencing that but if you are I hope you stay bundled up and safe. I just wanted to start this with saying that I love your writing! I was wondering if I could request a Shuri x Fem! Reader where they both just have a lazy day and spend it with each other, with lots of tooth rotting fluff. If not I completely understand. Thank you for reading!

Chaotic but lazy day

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Warning: smoking weed

A/n: It is also cold as shit where I am love and I am staying very warm you do the same also this ended up taking a turn and just ended up being a fic with chaotic Riri and the reader where they are being them

Summary: Finally it's the weekend Riri's done all of her work early and so have you so what does that mean? Chaotic but lazy weeknd with your girlfriend.

You and Riri have been working up to this weekend where you can do absolutely nothing you encouraged each other to finish any work you hadn't already done so that this weekend could only be about you two. When you got to her place she opened the door and you picked her up happily before kissing her "damn I couldn't be a real thug if I wanted to" you laugh as you put her down "girl you are 5'1 thug my ass baby thug maybe" she laughs and hugs you "aight enough of that" she grabs your chin and kisses you while closing the door. She repeatedly pecks your lips teasingly they're lazy kisses but also well needed ones you smile at her when she completely pulls away. "So what are our plans today baby?" You ask as hands keep her close to you as they grip her waist she just smiles "a trip to Walmart for everything we need to be completely fucking lazy until Sunday." You smile and peck her lips gently before you push past her and grab her hoodie off of her bed. "No I want to wear that one" you look her up and down "find another one I like this one" Riri already knows she's not getting that hoodie back none of her hoodies are actually her size so they fit you well. You smell the hoodie "where the perfume? I don't smell that bath and body work perfume" she laughs and hands you her perfume "that's because it's new" you spray yourself in her perfume and breathe in deeply "you smell so good I hope you know that" Riri smiles as she grabs her wallet "you say that every time you come over trust and believe me I know by now."

Riri glances at the box in the corner of the room I forgot to mention our matching playboy bunny pajamas came. You glance at the box "for real?" You open up the box and look back at her "you got the jump suit I got the shorts" you smile "I want to put it on now Riri glances you up and down and shakes her head "absolutely not you not going to Walmart with me with ya ass cheeks out" you look her up and down "I'll wear sweats over it but to speak if I did want to it without them I still would...what you gone do bite my ankles?" Riri glances you up and down "miss thing you best believe imma bite the hell out your ankles if you test me tonight." You laugh as Riri playfully nips at your neck causing you to laugh and peck her lips.

You both rip and run through the Walmart hitting each other with shopping baskets and in between collecting the stuff you need like junk food, a few sodas, and water. When you both get to self-checkout Riri runs off you continue scanning your items maybe she's going to get something last minute you're used to doing that. When she gets back she holds a can of silly spray "Riri I just got my hair done so please test how well God loves you tonight. Put. It Back." she only smiles as she scans it "I need a reason to get you in the tub with me tonight sounds like a perfect reason to me." She also scans a few movies she got from the big box and you swipe your card sighing "I will fuck you up if that gets in my hair" Riri only kisses your cheek as she smiles and you can't help but smile too.

When you both get back to her dorm you put the drinks in her mini fridge and make yourself some popcorn "babe put on a horror movie I need a reason to cuddle you." she smiles as she opens her laptop and slips the movie into the disc on the side she props the laptop on her bed and grabs her can of silly spray seeing that you're busy watching your popcorn. She ducks and sprays you you immediately feel the cold all over your back and neck causing you to toss the popcorn box at her she of course blocks her face. you kick her in her leg and yell curses "I fucking told you not to spray me with that shit you always playing Riri" she laughs at your mad expression "awn you mad?" you glare at her as you straddle her lap and snatch the spray can from her you make sure to spray her in her face and on her skin she only laughs and grabs your hands she leans up and kisses you smearing the silly spray on your face "eww Riri" you push her back and back up gently wiping it off your face. "I'm gone beat your ass you always playing and sh- what's that smell? you made me burn my fucking popcorn" you open the microwave and immediately start laughing as the smoke puffs into the air Riri closes the microwave and shrugs "fuck the popcorn come get clean with me" she grabs your waist and you just laugh as her face is still covered in silly string.

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Riri rubs your back as you lay on her chest and take a drag from your blunt "it still smells like burnt popcorn" you say laughing she smiles "I should have sprayed you in your fucking eye..." she hums "you mad violent today.

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you and Riri cuddle in your little pajamas Riri laying on top of you as you try not to listen to the thoughts that keep replaying in your head grab her ass grab her ass you eventually give in just full on cupping her ass in your hands' nails gently digging into her revealed skin. She sits up and looks at you "you were contemplating doing that shit weren't you?" you laugh as you continue to gently squeeze and bite your bottom lip she grabs your face causing you to panic but she only kisses you. you let your hands slip up her thighs "can we get through the movie before you just start groping me?" you think about it but shake your head "absolutely not" she gets in front of you and lays on her side as you slip your hand in her pants and just let it stay there unmoving. "What are you doing?" you kiss her neck and smile "I'm just waiting for the movie to end." She smiles because you think you're slick but she already knows this movie is about to be very well forgotten.