#it's past my bedtime but here pls have these girls loving each other!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonwoosthetic · 5 months

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series masterlist

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a/n – you guys are really loving this omg😭😭😭 I’m so grateful, thank you thank you thank you🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 just a little side note: I haven’t been able to watch anything past EP2-4. yet, I’m SO BEHIND, I KNOW😭 but I didn’t want to not upload since I promised it to you guys! So pls just know, that EP2-5. will be added at a later point probably next week ˙ᵕ˙

Go Together NANA TOUR EP2 🌷Minnie

parts written in italics were out of camera shot ˙ᵕ˙

EP2-1. Good Morning

Gathered around the table, the idols passed each T-shirt to the designated member until everyone was in possession of their personalised top for the show. Minnie had gotten her own as well, holding it up to look at her name in big black letters printed across it. Before her eyes even found the little icon that was different for each singer, Joshua had looked over her right shoulder and caught a glimpse first.

"Aww!" He pointed at the shirt, making her look down, finding a small drawn mouse holding onto a much bigger flower, what appeared to be a tulip.

"Oh my God, that's so cute," she smiled at the clothing item, before turning her head to the producers, "Thank you!" Beaming at them with a bright smile.

After they all got to admire their T-shirts and got a hold of a charger for their own, the group split up again to their designated rooms. Next on the list was getting bedtime ready. After not having lived together as a group all together, the idols had almost forgotten about the struggle of sharing a bathroom. The apartment they were staying at had two, thankfully, but still... 13 people and only two showers... it was about to get stressful.

Thankfully, sleeping in a room right next to one of the bathrooms, Minnie got the privilege of being one of the first members to wash up. She had washed her hair and went through some steps of her skincare routine with the products in the pouch she had taken with her from the plane. While the rest of the members were looking for time slots to jump into the shower, she was on her bed, now in the shorts and shirt provided by the producers as she put on a clean pair of socks, not wanting to walk around in shoes anymore or barefooted.

She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, trying to dry it as much as possible as she had yet to find a hairdryer. After a few minutes of looking around the flat, she had given up the search and retreated back to her room, using the towel to squeeze out the last drops of moisture that were left in her long hair. That's when Mingyu suddenly walked in, making her turn around to look at him.

"What are you doing?" Minnie asked him.

The rapper passed her, and crouched down right behind her, "Your room is the only one with a socket close to a mirror." As he stood back up, the girl's eyes dropped to the device his hands were clinging on. So that's where the hairdryer had suddenly gone. Mingyu turned it on and started drying his hair with the hot air, brushing through it with his fingers.

Minnie got up from the bed and walked over to him. With her hand on his upper arm, she looked up to meet his gaze through the mirror.

"Can you leave the hairdryer here after you're done?"

He must've not understood her probably, the blasting air being way too loud, as he turned to the side, subconsciously crouching down slightly as he had done so many other times before.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows in wonder.

"Leave the hairdryer here when you're done. I need it too," Minnie raised her voice to speak clearer before moving away to walk out of the room.

A sudden soft grab of her arm made her stumble back slightly. Looking back, she glimpsed up at her fellow '97 Liner, who motioned for her to turn around. With a gentle push on her back, she turned, now facing the door. Only a second later, Mingyu had moved the hairdryer from blow-drying his own hair to hers, using his fingers as a brush to detangle some of her strands. Carefully, he moved some of her hair to the side, splitting it up into sections, to make sure he was drying it correctly. Minnie moved her head along, leaning it to one side, so the hair would stay in the position Mingyu had put it in.

Once she noticed, it was getting harder for his fingers to glide through her strands, she turned around to stop his movements. Pointing over to her bedside table, he found the brush the girl was trying to tell him about. He handed her the blowdryer for a second as he walked over to get the brush, only to hold it in his own hands a few seconds later, getting back to help her with her hair.

The two members moved in complete silence the entire time. No talking, only grinning at each other through the mirror at most or Mingyu mouthing a 'sorry' whenever he'd get stuck on a knot in her dark mane. The only time either one of them had opened their mouth to speak was when Wonwoo appeared in the doorway, smiling over at the duo before knocking on the bathroom door. He asked who was inside, but had only gotten an incoherent answer back, so Minnie had to help him.

"Jeonghannie-hyung!" She called out to the '96 Liner, who turned to glance at her with awaiting eyes, asking her what she had said.

"Jeonghannie-hyung is in the bathroom," she repeated louder, getting a nod back in return.

After most of the members had each finished their shower, they moved on to brushing their teeth, which turned out to be another hurdle as there was only one tube of toothpaste. They had somehow managed to get a little bit for each one of them, brushing their teeth while walking around the apartment or sitting in their rooms.

Finished with everything, and even almost completely dry hair, Minnie had found herself in the kitchen, sitting between Wonwoo and Jeonghan, while Hoshi had taken a seat on the opposite side of the table, his toothbrush still dangling in his mouth. In the middle of their conversation, Dokyeom walked out of his room, joining the small group of four. He stopped by the table to look at his fellow members.

"It would be too greedy to ask for hair essence, right?" He asked everyone.

Right away, a nod and a hum came from the rapper, followed by an agreeing, "Yeah," from the Vice-Leader.

Minnie chuckled softly, "What? No, it's not. I asked for some too," turning towards the '96 Liner to her right before glancing over at Dokyeom again. "I put it in the little pouch on my bed. You can use it."

"Really?"

The girl nodded, "Of course."

[sharing is caring with SEVENTEEN]

As soon as the main vocalist left the room, Hoshi spoke up, "Wishing for too much is not what a vacation is." His voice still muffled by the toothpaste foaming at his lips. "You need to give up on things you can."

The girl leaned back with a deep breath in, stretching her shoulders. "Some of us just want to still look presentable. Even if we're on vacation."

"You shouldn't worry about that," the performance leader commented back.

"If I didn't use any hair essence, I'd look like a lion," the girl stated, referring to the long mane on her head, that would quickly turn into puffy dried weed if not being taken care of properly.

With scrunched eyebrows, Hoshi took the toothbrush out of his mouth, looking at her in confusion. "What's wrong with looking like a lion?" To which Minnie could only shake her head with a chuckle, the other two members following her, laughing along at the sound of pure offence coming from the '96 Liner.

Most of the group was already snuggled up in their individual beds. Only a few were still walking around, cleaning up after themselves or laying out their clothes and wet towels to dry somewhere in the apartment. Wonwoo and Dino had found comfort in sitting in the kitchen, with the only source of light coming from the hallway and music from the maknae's phone.

Before she would let herself get a good night's sleep, Minnie decided to keep up her habit of having either a glass or bottle of water next to her bed. She made her way into the kitchen, not expecting anyone in there anymore as it was dark, explaining her wide eyes when she entered and found the duo by the table.

"Oh," her hand came up to her chest in surprise, "What are you guys still doing?"

"Drinking," Dino answered her, nudging his head to the beer bottles on the table.

Followed by Wonwoo, who just got done with his next bite of the Ramen he had made, "And eating."

With a nod, the girl chuckled, walking over to the sink without another word. The room had fallen quiet as the rapper was focused on his food and the maknae had turned his full attention to the '97 Liner moving around the kitchen, looking for a glass or anything remotely close to a cup.

The sound of Wonwoo slurping his noodles got a chuckle from the youngest in the room.

"Noona, did you know Wonwoo-hyung doesn't chew his Ramen?" He asked her.

From her place by the counter, up on her tippy toes, she turned around, "Yeah," she smiled, "He inhales them." Getting a laugh from the maknae in return.

"Exactly! That's what I said."

"Why are you two making fun of me?" The oldest of the three joined the conversation, glancing over at the girl to see her struggle of not being able to see to the far back of the overhead cabinet. He got up from his chair in an instant.

"We're not making fun of you," Dino argued.

Wonwoo got next to Minnie, easily reaching to the back of the cabinet, where a few glasses were, reaching for one before handing it over to her.

"But I told you it's bad for you," she smiled up at him, taking the cup from his grip. "Thank you."

Without another word, the '96 Liner sat back down and his focus was back on the food in front of him.

Minnie turned on the Fausset before she let her backside rest against the counter, taking a sip of the glass she had just filled up.

Dino's eyes were locked on her form. "You're drinking straight from the sink?"

The female member nodded, "You can do that here. The water is clean." Making the maknae nod, clearly impressed by the info he had gotten.

"Do you want to drink with us?" He asked her, sitting up a slight bit straighter, ready to get another beer out of the fridge. But Minnie shook her head,

"No, thank you. I'm tired, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Ah, ok." Defeated, with his arms crossed, the youngest sank back into his seat.

Before she made her way back to the room she shared with Jun and Dino, Minnie took a few steps forward until she was right behind Wonwoo's seat, placing a hand on his shoulder, to make him look up.

"Good night," she whispered. As soon as their gazes met, she leaned down. The rapper straightened his back to meet her halfway where their lips touched for a soft kiss. She could feel the palm of his hand resting on her left hip.

Dino's hand immediately came up to cover his eyes, even turning his head slightly away. Once they separated and their eyes fell on the maknae, the two chuckled in unison. The teasing would never find an end. Even in a group like Seventeen, where open displays of affection in any way, romantic or platonic, weren't a rarity.

Minnie shook her head, smiling at the maknae, while Wonwoo went back to eating the last bites of his cup noodles. Checking for clear waters, the '99 Liner dropped his hand, smiling at the couple before the girl turned her back to them to leave the room.

Early in the morning, every member was still deep in their slumber. Well, everyone, but two - Minghao and Vernon. The roommates had gotten up earlier than the rest, with a specific plan in mind. A plan that required money from the 'manager'.

Thanks to the girl's light sleep, she was woken up by the sound of footsteps around the room. Opening one eye at first, the sun that had just started rising, hit her view, making her squint, wanting to close them immediately again. But another footstep made her whip her head around. Her eyes landed on the intruder.

"Hao?" Her voice was still raspy and laced with sleep. To get a clearer view, she rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust them to the brightness of the room.

Minghao raised a finger to his lips, begging her to stay quiet to let the other members rest.

"What are you doing?" Minnie whispered.

"Vernonnie and I want to go out for breakfast, but we need money," he explained, tapping the shoulder of the maknae as he whispered out his name to wake him up. Right after he had given his 'okay' to take the money they'd need, Dino closed his eyes again to fall back asleep.

Minnie stayed sat up on the mattress, her hand running through her hair as her eyes were focused on the sunrise outside of their window.

"Minnie-ya," Minghao's voice drifted her attention back to him, "Do you want to come too?"

For a quick second, the girl stayed quiet, trying to gather her thoughts before nodding her head.

"Sure."

Hao copied her action, his light footsteps carrying him to the other side of the room where he had seen her personalised shirt hung up on the handle of the closet. Minnie had decided to only sleep in the Calvin Klein sports bra the producers had provided her with. That way, she could feel comfortable wearing the T-shirt around the city that day.

He pulled it off the hanger, "Here," he threw it over to her on the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered back to him before he disappeared through the doorway again.

Out in the warm morning air, the three members started looking for a breakfast place in the area. While the temperature was slowly rising, getting up to the normal summer heat Rome was faced with each year, there was still a fresh breeze blowing past the old buildings. Minnie pulled the black zip-up hoodie she had thrown over her shirt closer around her body. The sleeves were long enough to cover her entire hands as well.

Minghao found a restaurant around seven minutes away from their current location that was already open, even at the early morning hour they had decided to get up. The close distance let the trio walk through the ancient streets of the city, taking in the old-stone structures that were so iconic for Italian architecture.

Each building they passed was more fascinating than the one before. From normal apartments to churches, or even just stores and supermarkets. The vintage design of downtown Rome was too different from their home in Seoul to not let them be amazed by everything they saw.

Arrived at their destination, the group found the restaurant to be relatively empty, making finding a table much easier. Minnie and Vernon took the booth seating up against the wall, while Minghao sat across the table from them. The waiter arrived only shortly after they had settled down and greeted them with a kind smile. Ordering was easy, thanks to the older man understanding English, and done by the youngest of the three. They opted for three orange juices, pasta, a chicken meal, and a serving of ravioli.

It was then, that the girl noticed the clothing choices of each of them, giggling to herself before commenting. "Why am I the only one wearing the shirt we got?"

All eyes fell on her, eyeing her outfit.

"I thought we had to wear them all the time," she whined out loud, getting a round of quiet laughter from everyone around her. Minnie glanced over at the cameraman, who just shook his head. "You're telling me I could've looked cuter than this."

Vernon, next to her, hit her shoulder with a chuckle as Minghao smiled at her. "It's okay, you wear it very well," he reassured her.

Their food arrived a short while later. The waiter gave each plate to each member, letting them finally admire what they had ordered.

"It really looks so good," Hao commented, taking a quick picture of his plate before putting the phone to the side again.

Minnie, who was focused on her own device, typing away on the screen, looked up, "Yeah," she nodded, "You can tell how fresh everything here is."

The three started to eat, splitting their meals up between them, giving each other a small portion of everything on the table.

Lost in the smooth taste of their food, taking in each small flavour their tongues picked up, the group enjoyed their moment of silence together. For a few seconds, they were too focused on the lunch meals turned breakfast, to even engage in a simple conversation.

Vernon was the first to break the quietness when a thought hit him like a brick, whipping his head to the girl, who was pouring herself a glass of water.

"You can speak Italian, right?" He wondered, gaining the attention of the entire table.

She nodded. "A little bit. The basics I learned in school. Why?"

The younger member chuckled with a scoff, "Why did you let me order then?"

The sip she was taking from the glass was interrupted when she came to stop, her mouth closed as she giggled, trying to swallow before she could speak up again.

"You didn't ask me to," Minnie smiled. "Also, I think I would be too shy to speak with an actual person from Italy. My Italian isn't that good."

Vernon was just about to say something when Minghao shook his head. "But you should. You should get more confident in speaking foreign languages."

"Yeah, you're good at learning them anyway," the youngest added, referring to the only academic 'gift' the female member had. But she just shrugged.

A bigger group of members that had split up from the rest, found themselves in a shop recommended by Na PD himself. They had ordered sandwiches for each one of them, along with a few bottles of Coke Zero and some wine - not caring about how early in the morning it was.

Amid their meal, Mingyu suddenly found the urge to contact the leader, who was in Korea, where it was now sometime in the afternoon. He picked up the Facetime call after only a few rings but kept his face hidden as he was sitting in a salon chair, getting his hair re-done.

"Show us. Let me see your face," the '97 Liner repeatedly kept on nagging the oldest member, showing the screen of his phone to the camera to reveal his face once he'd shown it.

"But I'm getting my hair dyed!" Seungcheol argued back.

"So let us see it!" The younger rapper argued again.

"You guys keep on contacting me!" The leader whined out. "Minnie has been texting me already. I sent her a picture."

"But she's not here with us. She went out with Vernon and Myungho, so show us your face now," Mingyu told him, continuously demanding a face reveal. Cheol finally gave in, turning his camera around to film himself in the chair, while two hairstylists were working on bleaching his hair.

EP2-2. Roman Holiday

"Everyone's here!" Na PD called out after counting the members on the bus. Everyone had found a seat for themselves and was enjoying the passing view outside of the windows. "We're going to see the Arch of Constantine and take pictures today," he explained further.

Due to the large number of members, the producer split them up into smaller groups, depending on where they were currently sitting. Jeonghan's group on the left side of the bus consisted of four, as well as Seungkwan's group on the right.

"And Group 3, the line in the back," Yeongseok pointed at them with the little flag he was carrying around with him. "The members who don't listen."

"Let's gooo!" Mingyu and Dokyeom shouted out together.

"Huh?!" Minnie wondered loudly, glancing over to the loud duo on the other side of the row, who seemed to be proud of the reputation they had gained.

Dino, who was sitting in the middle caught the shocked face of the female member, "Ah, noona!" Making him laugh out loud. "She doesn't like that title, hyung!"

"Who? Minnie-ya?" The producer looked at the very back of the bus, seeing the head of the girl peeking over the row in front of her.

"We listen well!" She argued back, getting a chuckle out of the older man and the rest of the group on the bus. Everyone knew, there was only a small amount of truth to her claim.

He shook his head, "I don't think so," getting another round of laughter from the members, while the girl had to fight a smile as she sunk back into the chair.

Each group had made their way off the bus, now walking around the ancient ruins toward the arch they were supposed to take pictures at. The hot weather had let the members only walk around in their individual shirts, with some of them also wearing the different kinds of hats they had bought in souvenir shops around the city.

Minnie had put up her hair in a ponytail, and a pair of sunglasses high on her nosebridge as she looked around the open area. She decided to just enjoy the view while letting her fellow '97 Liner run around and take pictures. Na PD was close by her. A chuckle from the older man made her turn around, only to find out why. Mingyu was a few steps behind her, crouching down on the floor while his phone was directed at her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him, but he just shook her off with his hand,

"Keep on walking."

With a confused look on her face, she did as asked, continuing her casual walk, while the older man next to her kept on laughing at what was happening.

"Wait!" The rapper suddenly called out, running up to the girl. Dokyeom was still behind all of them, taking pictures of the scenery with his own phone. "Turn around and look over there," he tried to usher her to stand in the right position, moving her around with two strong hands on her shoulder. "Oh-", he turned her around for a split second, fixing a strand of hair that stuck out from the top of her head.

"You're really passionate about this, Mingyu-ya," Yeongseok commented with a chuckle, standing back with his arms crossed, watching the duo closely.

He nodded with a proud smile, "We need to get good pictures." Taking a few steps back, he crouched down slightly once again, tapping on his screen a few times while Minnie continued to pose on the opposite side of the makeshift dirt road they were walking on.

"Look here!" He called out. "And over your left shoulder!" His directions made the girl roll her eyes, a chuckle tumbling from her lips quickly after.

"Mingyu, you're being too much," she smiled at the man, who still had his knees bent, not stopping taking one pic after the other, even as she continued to get him to stop.

"You'll thank me for the pictures later," the rapper nudged his head provocatively at the '97 Liner, who took a deep breath in before fixing her hair and going after his demands of posing in front of the camera.

"Hyung!" She called out to the producer, motioning with her hand for him to come closer. "Take a picture with me! Please!"

With a shake of his head, he quickly gave in to the girl's request, jogging up to stand beside her before he slung his arm over her shoulder, posing together with her for another few pictures taken by Mingyu.

They resumed their journey through the open field with Na PD, Minnie, Mingyu, and Dokyeom walking all together.

"Ah...," the rapper sighed out in relief, "Isn't this so nice, guys?" Throwing his arms over the other two '97 Liners.

"It's really nice," DK agreed. "It kinda really feels just like youth. Like it's the last in my late 20s before ending our lives."

"What?" Minnie and Yeongseok glanced over at the singer in surprise, "What did you just say?" The girl wondered.

"Why are you ending your life? Hey!" The producer questioned the sudden statement.

Dokyeom quickly excused himself, trying to get the meaning he had originally wanted to express right, getting a round of laughter from the people next to him. Minnie shook her head with a smile, mumbling something under her breath.

"You mean, ending your late 20s well," Na PD explained for him, to which the members agreed.

The girl had kept her head down, following a stone she was kicking along with her feet as they were walking. "Yeongseok-hyung is so wise."

Her comment got a whole-hearted laugh from the older man, his hand petting her back, making her look up at him with a big grin. "Ah... that's very sweet of you Minnie-ya." Her right arm slung across his back to lean into him, pulling him in for a side hug and joining the chain the four had created.

The Arch of Constantine was even more magnificent than any of the members could've imagined. They had split up, each to be on their own or in smaller groups, taking pictures or just taking in the structure right in front of them and next to the Colosseum. Their eyes raked over each detail engraved into the old stone, pondering how it was even possible to create masterpieces like this such a long time ago.

The producers asked them to gather for the group photo, having to recall their position in the line they had decided on the day before.

A picture, a video clip, and a few more personal pictures later, they went on their way further around the city, when some of the members found a cute little ice cream stand. The members who were craving the famous Gelato were quick to get in line, their orders already in their heads. Manager Dino was right next to them, using the pocket money they were gifted to pay for each treat.

With the refreshments in their hands, they continued their way through the streets of Italy. Passing blooming gardens, trees on the side of the roads, smiling people, and more ancient buildings that made Rome oh so special.

"I think I can really go on a world trip with just a camera," Wonwoo suddenly spoke up. Minnie, only a few steps in front of him, chuckled on slowed down her walk as the rapper reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to walk right beside her.

"How many pictures have you taken yet?" She asked, to which he looked down at the apparatus.

"I don't know, to be honest. A few."

In the next moment, the female member was standing in front of a colourful they had found along their way. Decorated with graffiti and drawings by multiple different artists, it seemed. Wonwoo, in his usual fashion, was holding up the camera, looking through the lens with one eye, taking a few steps back and forward again, trying to find an angle he'd like. Minnie smiled brightly, her sunglasses still high on the bridge of her nose. While she turned away to continue their walk, the '96 Liner kept his hold on the device tightly, taking a few more shots of the girl before putting the camera down to glance around the area, trying to look for the next beautiful thing to photograph.

The group had finally made their way back into the much cooler bus. Some of the members sighed out loud in exhaustion, complaining about the heat they were enduring. Everyone took the same seats as before, letting their backs rest against the cushions.

Next on the list: Lunch.

Na PD revealed the restaurant they were heading to to be a celebrity 'hot spot'. Multiple stars, including singers, actors, football players, etc. had dined there, making it become a very popular destination for others. As an example, he mentioned Leonardo Di Caprio. The members hollered out in excitement.

"Vernonnie,"

"Vernonnie!" Dokyeom and Mingyu commented, getting a round of chuckles from the other members. Minnie, grinned at the younger member next to her, watching his lips curl up as he shook his head slightly. With a giggle, she patted his shoulder.

"Let's go eat!" Jun called out as soon as the bus came to a halt. They had arrived at their lunch spot for the day. Waiters ushered them in and brought them to the table reserved for the big group in a slightly more private area of the restaurant. The female member to her seat opposite Na PD, next to Wonwoo, at the other end of the table.

The members were more than excited. Hours of walking around the hot city had brought hunger to their stomachs, ready to get a taste of even more traditional Italian cuisine - some had already gotten a taste early in the morning.

One of the waiters came back into the room, greeting them in true Italian fashion. He rounded the table, handing out a few of the menu cards so that at least two or three members could look at one together. That's when they found a catch. Everything was written in Italian.

"Oh... I really have no idea. There's no English at all," Vernon noticed. Minnie reached for the card Wonwoo had just put down, her eyes scanning the words.

"Ah...," she repeated with a nervous chuckle, "there really isn't."

Different possible solutions for their situation were thrown around. While some members were trying to make some sense of the words they were seeing, Mingyu suggested just ordering the most expensive items of each category. What part of them forgot though was that they had two people who could converse in a basic conversation with their language knowledge.

"The one that says 'fritti' is kind of fried," Joshua explained to his half of the table. "I think it means fried." He continued to go over the menu, explaining what he thought each meal would translate to.

"Funghi Porcini," Minnie read out, just to herself and whoever would catch her voice, "is with mushrooms."

"What is Pomodoro?" Woozi wondered out loud. As Shua was still busy talking to the maknae on his right, the female member decided to answer.

"Tomato. So it's like... probably like pasta with just tomato sauce and basil."

With scrunched eyebrows, the '96 Liner glanced at her. "You understand this too?"

She shrugged, "A little bit."

Back in her own world with Wonwoo right next to her, they went through the meals together, him asking her what some of the things meant and her translating everything for him. Lost in their little convo, she didn't react when her name was first called out, only when the man next to her nudged her before pointing at Joshua, who was trying to get her attention.

"Hm?"

"Can you order for that side of the table, and I'll order for this?" He pointed to each side, as he asked her. "Is that okay?" Joshua apparently didn't forget about the mere two years she had to study the language in school.

Slightly lost in his question, the girl nodded before she could even say what she actually wanted. Because doing what he had asked of her was definitely not a thing she was ready to do. She didn't have the confidence some other members, *cough* Mingyu *cough*, were blessed with. She had never been one to just talk to random people, ESPECIALLY when those people spoke a language she wasn't fluent in. Just thinking back to her first days at Pledis. Seungcheol was the one who had to come up to her. Back then, he was surprised to find out that her Korean skills weren't half as good as he had thought. It hit her like a kick back into the past - now having to converse in a language she had spoken the last time when she was in school.

Vernon chuckled when a heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sunk into her chair. "Now you have to talk in Italian." Referring back to the morning they had spent together back at that breakfast place.

"This is gonna be so embarrassing." With a pained facial expression, she leaned over to put her forehead against Wonwoo's shoulder, taking a deep breath.

"They're not going to make fun of you," he tried to assure her, his hand patting her thigh in comfort. "They're nice. Just try it."

Minnie straightened her back again, almost quivering as her eyes fixed on the waiter walking into the room again. "They might not make fun of me openly, but they'll talk about it later. I have the worst accent when I talk Italian!" She shout-whispered, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

Wonwoo tried his best not to chuckle at her reaction. He knew the situation was only half as bad as she interpreted it - always an overthinker. With a soft smile, he placed his hand on top of hers, trying to get her to calm down with his thumb running across her knuckles.

"We all have accents when we speak English. But has that ever stopped like Seungkwan or Mingyu from speaking it?"

"Dino sometimes doesn't want to."

"But you're not Dino," he argued softly, just wanting to lean forward and gently kiss her pouty lips, but there couldn't have been a worse time or place for it than then.

"And I'm no Seungkwan or Mingyu either," she threw back, making him take a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Minnie shook her head. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop," he squeezed her hand. "Just don't overthink it, it's all good."

Their moment had to be cut short as the waiter had made his way over to their side of the table.

With a big smile, he greeted the group in his native tongue, forcing everyone to do the same. Minnie was handed the menu by Wonwoo, now at least able to point at the meals she possibly wouldn't pronounce correctly. She started off easily, talking slowly and trying to speak as clearly as she possibly could. Showing him the words on the card most definitely helped her. Every now and then, the man would ask questions as well, taking her back at first, but as he was just trying to get the order perfectly right, she warmed up to the situation.

"Jeonghannie-hyung, what do you want?" She leaned forward to get a look at the oldest member. He had not given her his order yet.

He shook his head, "I'll eat anything you order for me, Minnie-ya." A quick glance at Woozi, he told her the same thing.

"And you, hyung?" She directed her attention to the man sitting across from her.

"Oh- this one please," he pointed at the menu he was holding onto, showing her the pasta meal he would want.

As scared as the female member was of messing up, she had only stuttered twice, and that was purely because she was unsure of the correct grammatical ending she would have to use in the sentence. The waiter nodded along with her order, writing down everything she mentioned on the menu before thanking her with another kind smile and disappearing again.

With a deep breath, the girl hunched over the table dramatically. Wonwoo chuckled at her antics, his hand coming up to rub her back.

"Damn," Vernon grinned, nodding his head at her.

The oldest man at the table couldn't take his eyes off the female member. His eyes were wide and a proud smile lit up his face.

"Woah... Minnie-ya," his voice made her look up. "How- I didn't know you spoke Italian so well."

She shook her head, "No... it's no- I only learned it in school for a bit."

"But that was really good!" He complimented her.

Minnie chuckled shyly, her shoulders lifting as she subconsciously leaned to the side.

Wonwoo patted her back one more time. "Good job," sending her a warm smile that she couldn't help but reciprocate.

Even though they had already gone through multiple jugs of the homemade house wine the restaurant had to offer, Na PD had ordered another few different types. The members only noticed it when there were new bottles put down on the table, along with more glasses as well. A green bottle and the same in red again were right in front of Minnie and Wonwoo, letting them try to read what the calligraphy around the logo said. As their side of the table was the first to receive the ordered wine, the other members got curious.

Mingyu got up from his seat, making his way over to stop in between his dormmates.

"Try and see which one is the expensive one," Yeongseok challenged them.

"Oh," Minnie chuckled, her hand placed on the arm of the '97 Liner as he leaned forward to get a better look at the bottles. "Mingyu will be good at this, I think."

Minghao joined them only shortly after.

"These two are different?" He wondered while Mingyu was already taking the first sip of what he had poured.

Minnie glanced up to her left, expecting her dormmate, only to be met with Dokyeom, who had also come along to the taste test. A pat on her shoulder made her look to the right. Mingyu handed her his glass of wine without a word, which she graciously took, taking a sip of the little bit he had left for her.

"Mm," she hummed, "I like this one."

He nodded, leaning against the wall as he looked down at her. "Me too, but I think it's the slightly cheaper one."

"I want to try the other as well. You too?" The girl wondered, getting a nod in return. She reached out to get a new glass and went to pour in some of it from the other bottle when it was suddenly snatched from her grip. Wonwoo got a hold of it, placing the glass closer to him before he let the liquid fill it up with a good amount.

"Don't pour yourself alcohol," he remarked before putting the glass back down in front of her.

She nodded. "Thank you." Just as she was about to hand it over to Mingyu, he brushed her off with a motion of his hand.

"You take a sip first." Not fighting him back on it, she brought the rim up to her lips, tilting it back until the slight bitter taste hit her tongue. She took a small sip, her face scrunching up a bit as she put the glass down again.

The '97 Liner reached out to get it. "Not good?" He chuckled at her expression.

"That tastes like the red wine I usually don't like," she stated, taking a big gulp from the glass of Coke Zero by her plate.

"Oh," Mingyu commented, "I like it." After having tasted it and going back to take another sip.

"Then you can keep it," she told him, face still scrunched up by the bitterness, getting another chuckle out of him and a brush over the top of her hair.

Meal after meal was brought to their table, even more plates now filling even the smallest empty gaps. The members shared each pasta between them, handing over spoons full of each food they had ordered.

They all were very well surprised by the tastes their tongue got to explore, but one member seemed particularly happy. Vernon.

"It's so good."

"Wow, it's really nice."

"This is really good."

He kept on repeating, making the female member chuckle as she watched him closely.

She wasn't the only one to notice though. "He really likes spaghetti," Na PD pointed out, making the '98 Liner nod.

"I really like it."

"I haven't seen Vernon eat that well in a long time," Minnie commented, the corners of her lips still curled up.

EP2-3. On the Bus

The members had found themselves back on the bus after their well-enjoyed lunch break. Now, all full and happy, they were making their way up to the North, to their next destination: Tuscany.

Knowing, the drive would take a good 3 hours, some had already leaned back, ready to enjoy the long drive. They were wondering what the house they'd stay at next would look like. Knowing the production team, they probably went all out. Minnie had engaged in a comfortable conversation with Yeongseok during their lunch in the episode before, making them get closer than they were before. The girl had started to realise that this trip truly wouldn't be like the 'Youth Over Flowers' she had watched before. They had talked about the other members, life in general, and just getting to know each other member. She was definitely starting to warm up to him quite a lot. Minnie had been a fan of the man and the shows he had done in the past for quite a while, so getting to know him personally was quite intimidating. But just like the idol group as well, Na PD was too kind-hearted to not like him. The whole production crew in general. In some aspects, Minnie could see the members in some of the producers. How they could turn out in a few years, personality-wise. With shared humour and traits, it was easy to get close to them. They were enjoying a holiday together after all.

"Iced Americano...," Yeongseok suddenly spoke up.

"I love it so much."

"Is so nice."

"Thank you so much." Came from different members as answers. They didn't know yet, that the drink wasn't being offered to them.

At this point, Na PD was just showing off, as they had found out. "I really like it, that's just what I said," he commented with a devilish smile already teasing his lips. Some of the members were getting quite desperate, and he noticed it, but it only amused the older man even more.

"But... there might be some members who like it, right?" He wondered teasingly.

"Like it?" Minnie wonders out loud, her head popping out from behind the seats of Wonwoo and Woozi. "Seungkwan breathes Iced Americano!" Getting a round of chuckles from the members, including Yeongseok.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked the younger member who just so happened to sit right behind him. "Well... if there are other members that like it... we brought 13 cups just in case."

The bus was immediately filled with groans of desperation and shock, everyone surprised by the kind gesture. Especially from the members who had been living life on the limit with the caffeine deficit they had been enduring over the past few days as the espresso they'd get in the city was not pleasing their tastebuds.

So, Na PD was holding onto 13 cups of coffee, but he wasn't just going to give them to each of the members, they had found out. The production crew came up with an 'S.Coups quiz' where the prize of each rightly-answered question would be one of the cups. At this point, you could feel the heated personalities of the members rise up and physically watch as the more competitive members sat up straighter in their seats. Minnie smirked.

"As a reference, we don't know the answers either," Yeongseok explained. "We need to do a video call and find out."

"Ooooh," Minnie whispered to herself.

After going through the rules one more time, the first question was thrown at them right away.

"'Coups' quiz!" Na PD called out, "Right now, what is S.Coups doing? In detail."

A few hands shot up immediately, but Mingyu was the first to also call out his name, therefore getting picked first.

"After dying his hair, he's at home," he simply answered.

The producer repeated his answer, making sure he got each detail correctly.

"After he finished dying his hair, he went home," the '97 Liner explained one more time.

"But I'm curious about what he's doing at home right now," Yeongseong told him, making a few more hands come up.

"Minnie!" The female member shouted out, getting picked next. "He's playing video games."

"And what kind of video games?" He nagged further.

The girl sighed out with a smile, "How am I supposed to know that? He plays a lot..."

"I need to know everything in detail," the man clarified one more time.

The next member to try and get the right answer was Vernon, who repeated Minnie's answer with a little addition.

"Computer game," he stated.

"Ah, computer game? And what game?"

With a groan, the '98 Liner leaned forward, tilting his head into the narrow walkway of the bus, holding onto the handles by the seat in front of him, where Wonwoo was sitting. The older member turned to the side with a smirk on his lips,

"LoL, LoL, LoL," he kept on repeating, trying to help the younger rapper. This didn't go unnoticed by the girl, who gasped once Vernon repeated what he had just been told.

"You cheater," she whispered at him as soon as his back hit the cushion of his seat again.

"Blame Wonwoo-hyung. He helped me," he defended himself, only getting a shake of her head from Minnie in return, her lips pressed together tightly.

Hoshi, Jun, Woozi, and Joshua gave their own ideas as well, desperately hoping their answer would be the right one. Before anyone else could even be picked, Mingyu shouted out to grab everyone's attention. He had caught Minghao texting Seungcheol and filmed him to have evidence in his hands. The dancer was thrown out of this round by Na PD, making the other members celebrate in glee.

Wonwoo, Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Dino, and Jeonghan were the last ones to drop their answer - Minghao was still too sulky to give his.

Seungkwan was the one who would get to call the leader via video call. He fixed his hair while waiting for the oldest member to pick up. Dokyeom was hoping he'd be on the toilet pooping. After a good minute of silence from the other end of the line, they were close to giving up on the call when Wonwoo chuckled out loud. He had found S.Coups' 'online' status on the Discord app. They decided to call him that way, but only to tell him to pick up the video call from the '98 Liner, so they'd be able to see him. After another try, they were finally met with his face on the phone screen in the younger member's hands. They briefly went over the quiz they were currently doing before getting to the question they all had been desperately waiting to ask him.

"What are you doing?"

"Right now? Playing games," he told them, getting a loud shout of glee from Vernon in the very back.

"I said that!" Minnie argued with the member next to her, hitting his shoulder as he was celebrating his not-yet-fixed win a little too much.

"What game?" Dokyeom raised his voice so the leader would be able to hear him.

Seungkwan repeated it. "What game exactly?"

"LoL."

That's when the girl scoffed out with an annoyed smirk, letting the boy to her right shout out in glee.

"I said LoL!" He proudly announced. The girl just shook her head. He was handed over his cup of Iced Americano and took a sip, followed by a happy sigh as he leaned back.

"I hate you so much right now," the girl joked, glancing over at the younger member.

Vernon chuckled, "You should've listened to Wonwoo when he said it."

"But he said it to you! He didn't even try to help me," she whined, the feeling of betrayal hitting her. "Unbelievable," she mumbled under her breath. The '98 Liner couldn't help but laugh at her.

Thankfully, they were quick to move on to the next question.

"It's 11pm in Korea right now," Na PD started again. "Coups is currently playing a lot of LoL. BUT... before he played LoL... what did Coups eat for dinner?"

Everyone immediately agreed that the answer to this would be too hard for them to guess. After all, there were at least a thousand different things he could've ordered or made. But still, Mingyu was, once again, the first one to guess, giving his answer with, "Chicken breasts!" The leader was on a diet after all. The maknae decided on him probably not eating anything at all since the '95 Liner would be filming his part of the 'God of Music' music video the following day.

Dokyeom, Jun, and Joshua followed right after, each giving a different answer. Hoshi went against Dino's idea and threw out that the oldest of the group enjoyed a heavy meal before starting to play his game. And Vernon was the last one to give his answer.

"Did everyone guess?" The producer wondered out loud, losing count of each of the members once again.

The idols started looking around the bus. The ones who didn't want to give an answer shook their head.

"Minnie hasn't said anything yet!" Vernon called out, earning himself a nudge to his ribs.

"Oh- noona! What's your answer?" The youngest leaned forward as he glimpsed to his left to get a look at the female member.

Yeongseok pushed himself up to glance at the very back of the bus. "Minnie-ya!" He shouted out for her, "What do you think?"

"I don't want to say anything!" She whined back, still sulky from the moment between Vernon and Wonwoo.

"Ah- don't be like that," Na PD sighed. "You know S.Coups well, right?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon?!" The producer raised his voice in confusion, followed by the other members who did the same.

"Never mind," Dino shook his head, "She takes that back." His remark got a few chuckles from the others.

Seungkwan turned around, "But he has a shoot tomorrow."

"Well, maybe he wanted to treat himself before work. He likes naengmyeon," she argued back, looking over the seats in front of her.

"No... I don't think so," Mingyu muttered, daring to take a quick peek over to the side, where she was already glaring at him.

"Not everyone can enjoy a boring diet like yours," she threw at him, making Vernon laugh and push her back by her shoulders.

"No fighting, kids!" Na PD demanded with a smile and a shake of his head, mumbling something inaudible under his breath. "Let's find out."

That time, Jeonghan was handed the phone to call the leader. Within only a few rings, he picked up the second video call.

"Oh, Jeonghan-ah," S.Coups greeted the second oldest of the group, his eyes switching between looking at the phone screen and his computer.

"Hey, Coups. What did you eat for dinner?" He got straight to the point.

"For dinner?" Cheol wondered out loud. "Ehm... I had... Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon!" Jeonghan repeated it louder to let everyone hear. Loud gasps filled the bus in an instant.

Minnie shot up from her seat, "REALLY?!"

"You really ate naengmyeon?" Dokyeom couldn't believe the answer the leader had given them. "Why did you eat naengmyeon when you have the music video filming tomorrow?"

Vernon, still surprised by the actual answer, scooted forward in his seat. "Why are you eating naengmyeon?" All while Minnie was looking at the phone Jeonghan was still holding up with a big smile on her face.

A few more exclaims fell from the members, clearly stunned by the meal choice of the oldest member before Jeonghan tried to hang up the phone.

"Wait-," the leader called out, "Jeonghan. What do you think of my dyed hair?"

The '95 Liner grinned, "Pretty, pretty!" He lifted the hand that was clutching onto the phone, "Guys, Coups' hair is pretty, right?" Of course, he got each member to agree with hums, nods, and words directed to the leader.

"Oppa, your hair looks so pretty!" Minnie shouted out happily, "Thank you for eating naengmyeon!"

"What did she say?" The oldest chuckled, moving closer to the screen with scrunched eyebrows.

Jeonghan chuckled, "She says your hair is pretty and thanked you for eating naengmyeon."

"Did she get it right?" To which the other member nodded. "You're welcome, Minnie-ya!"

"He says 'you're welcome'!" The singer turned around in his seat, his eyes immediately on the grinning girl, who sent a dramatic flying kiss in his direction. Vernon pulled her down with an amused shake of his head.

A few 'goodbyes' back and forth later, the video call ended.

"So, Minnie-ya!" Na PD called out for the female member, "You really got it right!"

"I know!" Grinning from ear to ear, Minnie's smile could've lit up a dark room instantly.

"Well done," Woozi nodded to himself, "I would've never thought he'd eat that while dieting."

Wonwoo glanced at his fellow '96 Liner, "Me neither."

"Noona apparently really knows Coups-hyung the best," Dino commented, watching the grin not leaving her lips.

"Seems like it," Dokyeom agreed.

"You deserved it. Enjoy the Iced Americano!" The producer congratulated her, handing over the cold plastic cup to the back, each member passing it further until it reached Vernon, who tried to take a sip.

A smack to his arm stopped him, "What are you doing?" The girl smiled at him, getting a chuckle in return as he finally handed her her prize.

"Thank youuuu!" She shouted one more time before bringing the coffee up to her lips, a smile still plastered on her face.

In true Seventeen fashion, they came up with a deal next. Agreeing, that the S.Coups quiz might be too hard, for some, they asked for an Italy trivia quiz instead. As Na PD was very knowledgeable in the culture and history, having been here before, he let himself get dragged into the agreement. Minnie already knew she'd prefer to stay in the background, happily sipping on her coffee while she watched the chaos unfold right in front of her.

Only when it suddenly turned into a quiz just for Dino, Minnie's ears perked up.

"Listen to the question first. Just think about it," Yeongseok told the maknae, who had moved slightly forward, now sitting at the edge of his seat. "What word refers to the world-famous first division of professional Italian soccer?" The members were quick to agree that the question was easy to answer, but the youngest just nodded along mindlessly.

Na PD tried to encourage him, promising that he'd be able to get to answer while looking for others to do the same. He called out Dokyeom, who was smiling at him, expecting him to support the '99 Liner, when instead, he suddenly shouted out the correct answer.

"Serie A!"

"W-Why are you saying it?" The producer laughed out loud, the rest of the group joining him, glancing back at the '97 Liner who started to apologise, not having realised he wasn't supposed to actually answer the given question.

"Oh..." Dino sat up straighter, "Is that the answer?"

Na PD couldn't help but laugh warmly at the maknae. "This-... He doesn't even know what it is!"

"No, I thought it was Paris Saint-Germain," he explained. The entire bus filled with laughter.

The girl whipped her head to the right, getting a chuckle from Vernon, who was already clutching his stomach from the antics of the other members.

"That's the of a team!"

"That's a team from Paris!" Vernon and Minnie laughed out loud together, the younger member finding more humour in the situation while the girl looked genuinely concerned, her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips slightly agape.

Mingyu patted Dino's shoulder, "That's in Paris!"

"It's Paris!" Vernon hit his thigh, raising his voice slightly.

"Dino-ya-" Minnie started, but was interrupted.

"Wait, wait-" the youngest stopped everyone around him, "Isn't Italy part of Europe?"

The '98 Liner could barely hold himself together anymore, nudging his elbow into the maknae's side, laughing out loud as if he was gasping for air. In shock, Minnie leaned back into her chair. The rapper looked over, finding her covering her mouth with a hand and closing her eyes to take a deep breath. It only made him laugh harder.

"Is he serious?" She asked him, chuckling at how he was barely holding on. "Is this real?" She shook her head, leaning over to pat the '99 Liner's thigh. "Dino-ya," he turned his head to meet her eye, "Paris Saint-Germain is a team from Paris. Paris is a city in France. Both Italy and France are in Europe, but one thing doesn't have to do anything with the other."

"Aaaah, really?" He nodded his head. At least somebody was educating this man.

With a defeated look, Minnie let herself fall back against the cushion. A quick peek to the side made her chuckle as Vernon was already looking at her with a grin plastered on his face.

EP2-4. Today's chefs, SEVENTEEN!

The bus went on for another hour or two that was spent quietly as each member focused on themselves. Most eyes were focused on the passing landside, and others were trained on their phones. Minnie managed to catch a quick nap of only a few minutes but it definitely helped to let the time pass.

"We're arriving at the supermarket in 20 minutes," Na PD announced. "Think about what we're going to eat today."

"Who wants to go to the supermarket?" Seungkwan questioned the room.

Mingyu was quick to react, "I want to go!"

"Me too," the '98 Liner added.

As Dino was the manager who was holding onto all of the pocket money the group had received, he wondered, "Should I go?" The members agreed.

The eyes of the biggest member drifted to the other side of the bus, "Minnie-ya," catching the attention of the girl. "Do you want to go too?" Knowing she'd actually be of big help in the grocery store as the designated members would only be able to converse in English in emergencies.

She nodded with a smile, "Yeah, sure."

"Minnie, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dino," Wonwoo counted out loud, making the rest of the group nod. It was a good choice of members that would buy fun stuff, good stuff, but still responsibly.

Now that they had the chosen buyers that would hit the supermarket, the next decision would be what they'd even want to buy. What would be on the menu for the evening? It didn't take long to agree on the cuisine: Korean. None of them had the energy or confidence at that point to recreate any of the meals they were gifted during their lunch break. They knew they could cook something Korean, they just hoped they'd find the right ingredients.

The four got off the bus, heading over to get a cart first.

"Woah... it looks like an American Supermarket," the girl commented, following the '98 Liner who had already spotted the carts.

Inside, they immediately started looking for the meat section. They found the counter, with a woman and a man behind it, who was already looking at them as they got closer. Their eyes drifted over each meat they offered, trying to find something them and the others would enjoy. Minnie didn't get to say anything before Mingyu started talking to the employee, pointing at the raw meat he had found.

"Is that pork belly?" The girl wondered, stopping by his right, glancing at the butcher who was cutting it into thick pieces.

The rapper shrugged, "I think. It looks like it." They also found some pork neck, asking the man to cut some for them as well.

Next: Chicken. Just further down, they found more meat in individual coolers. Seungkwan reached out for one plastic-wrapped carton.

"Doesn't this look like chicken breast?" The maknae wondered.

Mingyu reached out to grab it, taking a closer look. "Isn't it intestines?" At the mention, Minnie's face scrunched up in disgust. She wasn't vegetarian, but she had her limits. "Do you know?" He looked down at her.

Taking a small step closer to his side, he held up the package for her. "Petto Pollo Coop? Pollo means chicken ...," she told the group. "And I'm pretty sure Petto means chest. But I don't know about Coop"

"Are you sure?" Seungkwan asked her, but her nod was hesitant.

"Like... 90%, yeah."

"That's good enough," Mingyu tossed it into the cart without another word, before leaning down into the cooler to get more. "Let's buy a lot of this."

At their stop in the seafood section, the girl stood back, letting the guys decide as she was the last person to ask when it came to a meal including anything from the ocean. The other members locked their eyes on some salmon and just decided to take a few more packages of it, not caring about anything else from that side of the supermarket.

They hit the vegetables and frozen foods section next, making a quick stop at a small stall that held freshly made warm chicken they could buy.

"The members would like this," they commented.

During their time in the drinks department, they noticed just how quickly the cart was filling up.

"The members drink a lot of Pepsi, right?" Seungkwan chuckled at the sight of multiple bottles and cans they had thrown in.

Minnie laughed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "They need their caffeine." Knowing she was one of said members.

"Underwear," the '98 Liner suddenly remembered. "Underwear for the members.

"Oh, right," Mingyu nodded, "We have slippers, but we need to buy underwear." In the aisle, the girl split from the other guys as female underwear was on the other end of the line, having to look for it herself. Her fellow '97 Liner noticed her sudden absence, walking over to where she was standing.

"Did you find something?" He wondered.

Minnie nodded, holding up her hand that was clinging onto two hangers, each with a bra, while in her other she was holding a few three-sets of underwear. Without asking, Mingyu reached out, getting everything out of her grip as he noticed her eyes were still searching for something. She let go of it easily, knowing better than to fight his stubborn head when it came to carrying things for her.

"What are you looking for?" He asked her, walking along with her as she took slow steps down the aisle.

"A bikini."

"You mean a swimsuit?"

Minnie chuckled with a roll of her eyes, glancing up at him, a knowing grin on her lips. "Whatever I can find. But preferably a bikini."

A few steps to the right, he stopped right in front of something he had found. "What about this?" He nudged his head towards the shelves. With raised eyebrows, the girl walked over, wondering what he had seen that she could want. As soon as her eyes fixed on it, she stopped in her tracks. A wetsuit. Of course.

"Funny," she jokingly glared at him, getting a chuckle out of him in return.

"I'm serious," he shrugged, knowing damn well that girl wasn't about to buy a wetsuit to wear to the pool they would have at the next place.

Minnie shook her head, her lips still curled to a smile. "No, I think I'll go with this one." Walking back to take what she had located earlier off the rack. "But thank you for your opinion."

She held it up, watching Mingyu just turn around, ready to join the others again. The female member jogged a bit to catch up with him, giggling at his antics.

On their way to the register, they passed a snack aisle, stopping there for a bit to roam around, throwing anything that looked somewhat good into their cart. Crisps, gummies, literally anything. Minnie was the only one, who pushed them towards the fruits that were lined up against the wall of the grocery store. She got a few bananas and apples, still thinking about somehow evening out their intake of unhealthy snacks - it was a bad habit of hers that was hard to get rid of.

They had texted the other members early, once they got in line, so they'd come to help them with the almost insane amount of bags filled with food, clothes, and ingredients. Only 40 minutes later, they were outside and back on the bus again.

Minnie fell into another quick nap on the bus as the darkness illuminated by the warm street lights made her even sleepier than she already was. She only realised they had arrived when groans and hollers of happiness filled the confined space.

The group got off the bus and made their way forward towards the house, some had offered to carry the boxes and bags from the grocery store along with them. Minnie was one of the last ones in line as they finally got to the old-fashioned farmhouse.

Entering it felt like almost jumping into a new universe. Old stones and ancient furniture with an Italian touch surrounded them.

"Wow...," the girl gasped as soon as she walked it, trying to take in every corner she passed. "This is so beautiful... oh my God..." The members who were in front of her agreed, each one of them not able to grasp the beauty of the building they'd be staying in for the next few days. Every detail was so simple yet so pretty, the stones on the wall adding to the vintage feeling of the house. It was old, yet cosy and warm. It felt inviting.

The house had enough bedrooms for the members to share, some holding two beds, some having three. But who would get to sleep in which one, they'd decide through a game of 'Rock-Paper-Scissors'.

"It doesn't really matter here because all of them are nice," Woozi commented, making Minnie, who was standing next to him nod in agreement.

Once it was her turn to choose a room, she started roaming around again, taking a peek into each one to see what members had already occupied which ones. The two rooms right by the front door were the last ones she'd get to look at. She walked to the one on her left first.

"Oh, noona!" Dino greeted her with a big smile. Mingyu came back out from the attached bathroom, glancing at the girl.

"You guys are here?" She wondered, to which the two members nodded. "Alright." Without another word, she exited it again, walking across the floor to the other one.

"Hello?" She called out into the, what seemed to be an empty, room. When she didn't get an answer back, she shrugged and threw the tote bag, which Jeonghan had bought for each member back in Rome, on the double bed. Only a second later, she let her body fall onto the mattress, a pleasant groan tumbling from her lips. She let her eyes close for a split second before some of the other guys suddenly appeared in her doorway.

"Do you guys already have a bed?"

Dokyeom nodded, "I'm sharing a room with Jeonghannie-hyung," he told her.

"And I'm with Vernon and Woozi," Hoshi told her, making her nod.

They were quick to walk back into their individual rooms again and Minnie decided to take a look at the bathroom, whose door was against the same wall as the bed.

"Where's a bed that's left?" The last member of the game, Wonwoo, shouted through the house. He walked into the room that was closest to him on his right. The room that Minghao and Jun shared.

"I think Minnie's alone in her room," the '97 Liner stated as soon as he saw the older member enter.

"Where's her room?" He asked them, turning around without waiting for an answer. "Minnie-ya?" His loud voice bounced off the old walls as he continued walking through the living room, towards the entrance door.

"What?" She called back, walking out of the bathroom again, towards the door to her room, stepping out to see what was going on. Her eyes met Wonwoo's, who was taking quick steps up to her

"Minghao said you have a bed left," he explained. Minnie nodded, a yawn suddenly coming up, making her cover her mouth. She walked back inside.

"You can share it with me," she spoke through the sign of sleepiness, making the rapper chuckle. The female member sat down on the bed, watching the '96 Liner put his stuff onto the chair in the corner. She leaned back to get a hold of her bag.

"Can you put my stuff there too? Please." She asked, handing him the tote bag to collect all of their clothes and personal items in one place.

The two decided to walk back outside, finding some of the boxes the members had left in the living room that were filled with ingredients that would be more suitable in the kitchen. Just as they went to pick them up and make their way downstairs, Hoshi joined the duo.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" He wondered, looking at Wonwoo who nodded at him before his eyes fell on the girl, who was carrying one of the boxes that was clearly way too heavy. "Oh- wait, give that to me."

"No, no, it's okay," she brushed him off.

"No, let me help you," he argued back, winning the fight as she let go of the carton, choosing to follow him in silence down the stairs, where their maknae greeted them. As soon as they reached the ground floor, Dino walked over to the performance leader, taking over in carrying the heavy box.

"Hyung!" Minnie chuckled at the scene in front of her, "You said you wanted to help me."

"But our maknae is so strong, how could I say no," he defended himself with a grin, making the girl shake her head.

"I worked out," Dino proudly announced with a big smile on his lips, getting all three of the members to chuckle sweetly.

They put everything on the kitchen island before going through each item individually. Minnie took a second to look around the room.

"This... this really looks like a dream house. And a dream kitchen."

"I know," Mingyu agreed, "I said to Dino this is the perfect height for a counter," before turning around, "And the stove is really good too."

The female member looked down at the surface, her hands brushing over the wood, "Really pretty."

"This is egg," her fellow '97 Liner announced, handing the item over to the youngest who was standing by an open fridge door.

"Eggs. Multiple," Minnie chuckled. She didn't correct the other members' English very often, but every now and then, she would decide that a remark was more important. Just like now.

"Eggs," Mingyu repeated, continuing to go through their groceries. "This is- OH, ice cream. Ice cream, ice cream," his tone suddenly became rushed. "Come on yo, come on yo!" The girl couldn't help but laugh at her members.

"Emergency, emergency!" Dino played into it, repeating the words over and over again while finding a place for the item in the freezer.

"You guys are weird," she mumbled under her breath with a smile, collecting the bags of salad Wonwoo and Hoshi were placing on the counter.

The rest of the group had started to come together in the kitchen, circling the island. Everyone but Jun and Vernon as they had found comfort on the couch and their bed, motion sickness from the drive slowly catching up with them.

"Then, I will start," Mingyu, the main cook of the group announced. "We just need to grill the meat, chop the ingredients and set it up." He pointed at Dokyeom, "You need to make the stew, right?"

His fellow '97 Liner nodded, "Yeah, I'll make the stew."

Hoshi, who already had his mouth full of snacks, spoke up. "There can't be too many chefs. You two be the main chefs," he decided. "Tell us if you need anything." The others agreed, knowing that too many members would just cause chaos they didn't need.

"Okay!" Mingyu exclaimed, rolling up his already short sleeves, "Let's move quickly."

Dokyeom and Minnie had gathered at the corner of the kitchen island, eyeing the meat they had bought.

"I will do about four strips of pork," the singer clarified, "Four stripes." Glancing over at the rapper of the '97 Line, hoping to get his opinion.

He nodded, "Four strips would be good."

"What can I help you guys with? Anything I can cut up?" The girl wondered, but before DK could say anything, Mingyu shook his head.

"No, it's okay."

"But I want to help," she argued, walking over to the man by the stove. "Tell me what I can do."

He turned around, pointing straight forward. At the table. "Sit there."

The female member rolled her eyes and smacked his arm, "Stop, I'm serious." Watching him move around to gather everything he'd need. "I can hand you pots or something. A cooking spoon?"

"No," Mingyu shook his head with a chuckle, "I really don't need help."

"I could-" Not even letting her finish, the rapper grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her forward, stopping by the kitchen island.

"Just stay right here." He told her before going back to the fried rice he would be preparing on the stove.

Minnie sighed in defeat, taking her place next to Wonwoo and Minghao, who were focused on DK and Dino on the other side of the island.

"Dokyeom-ah, can I help you with something?" She moved on to the next member, but he had already caught up on the conversation that happened behind him merely a few seconds ago.

"No, Minnie-ya. But thank you for offering."

Bored out of her mind, the female member waltzed through the room, looking around the walls and vintage display case in one of the corners. After that didn't seem to fill her boredom anymore, she stopped by the table. Wonwoo was already sitting on a chair on the left side of it.

"You need to leave the cooking to the ones who cook well," he stated, noticing the silence from the girl after she was practically thrown out of the kitchen.

"But I can cook as well," Minnie whined, "Or at least help." She took a deep breath in, "But I agree, you really shouldn't cook." Making both of them chuckle in unison.

"If I put my hands on it... not delicious," he stated, making the female member laugh with a nod.

She spent most of the rest of the time by the dining table, taking a few glances back at the kitchen, internally hoping, she'd get something to do. That's when her gaze fell on Mingyu, who just stood by the kitchen island... when he was supposed to be the one to cook. With scrunched eyebrows, she got up from the chair, making her way over to where more members had gathered together. That's when she saw it. Minghao had replaced the rapper's position by the stove.

She gasped quietly, "You let Hao help, but not me?" Minnie glared up at the man in front of her, who shook his head.

"Minnie-ya...," he sighed, meeting her eyes as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Maybe you should live with him," she mumbled, a pout evident on her lips.

"Stop being like that," He reached out to get a hold of her arm, but she moved away swiftly. Only that she had forgotten about his much longer legs and arms. With a big step forward, he was able to grab her gently by her upper arm, pulling her to turn back around, facing him now.

"Do you really think I cook bad?" She asked him immediately, gazing up at him with her lips almost quivering. Mingyu could tell her sleepiness was catching up with her as this wouldn't be her usual behaviour. His eyes softened. He chuckled and shook his head,

"No, I don't think you cook bad. But can you please just sit back and relax. You fell asleep on the bus twice. Just rest for now." Pointing at the table, where Jeonghan was sitting now. She had already sighed too many times to count anymore.

At some point during their food preparations, Minnie had gotten up and rushed up the stairs to get her own zip-up hoodie, the same one Seungkwan had surprised them with. Once she was back downstairs again, the table was fully set, and the members were getting ready to sit down. The seat by the corner, next to of the dining table, right next to the main vocalist was kept free, suggesting that she could claim it for herself.

"It's comfortable, right?" Seugnkwan asked her as soon as she sat down, seeing the black hoodie engulfing her body.

The female member nodded with a smile, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, "It's really warm."

Each of them was able to put on their plate whatever their heart desired, they had enough options. Dokyeom's stew, Mingyu's meat and fried rice, the salad Dino made, along with the already cooked chicken they bought in the supermarket, as well as other small things they heated up during their cooking.

Once a spoon of the stew hit her tongue, the girl groaned in pleasure, "Woah...," she sighed, "Even on the other side of the world, Korean food still tastes so good." Getting a nod from the members next to her. "Well done, Dokyeom."

The singer grinned, "Thank you, Minnie, I'm glad you like it."

The members ate well, even if they didn't think they would, recalling their big lunch only a few hours ago. But with the variety they had, none of them could say no. Minnie filled her plate with some rice, along with the Salad the others didn't touch, due to the yellow mustard Dino had used instead of honey mustard, but the girl didn't mind.

"At least someone likes the salad," the maknae commented, noticing the girl eating it. With a piece of it in her mouth, she giggled, covering the lower half of her face.

"It's still good, Dino," nodding at him reassuringly, "You did very well."

The maknae smiled proudly, going back to finishing his own plate of food.

After the last member decided they couldn't put another piece of anything on the table into their mouths, the time for cleaning up arrived. Usually, the group would play a quick game to decide on the roles, but for that evening they just agreed to do it all together. Woozi and Hoshi would be in charge of washing the dishes, while the others would be cleaning up the table and collecting trash.

"What are you going to do with the leftover nuggets?" Wonwoo wondered while most of them were gathered around the table, cleaning the plates and throwing away the remains of what they had just eaten.

"We can wrap them up and put them in the fridge," Minnie suggested, holding onto two plates, on her way to get them to the sink.

"Wrap them in plastic?" He asked further.

The girl nodded, "Yeah, I'll do it here," nodding at the now almost empty counter.

"Wrap them in plastic. Wrap them in your rap," Dokyeom just spat out.

Wonwoo chuckled at the comment, "Should I?" Not even waiting for an answer, he already started, on his way into the kitchen. "YO!"

Minnie, who came back to gather the nuggets from his hold, stopped to laugh, pushing him away from her with a slight shove.

"Oooh, nice, nice!" Joshua complimented him.

"What was that?" She chuckled along with the others. The rapper only shook his head, moving her to walk back towards the kitchen island with a hand on her back.

"What's with Wonwoo's form?" The '95 Liner wondered, still laughing along with Dokyeom.

"He really is a Hip-Hop-Unit member," Minnie commented, earning her a nudge to her side, but a round of chuckles from the guys by the table. She had found the cling foil and was about to cut a piece off it, the box of nuggets already in front of her.

"Ah..." Wonwoo sighed, "This is too big to wrap it up in my rap."

The female member shook her head again, "Stop," she couldn't hold back a giggle.

"I think we need to use Coups' rap," he explained to Dokyeom, who exclaimed his disappointment, continuing the joke.

A grin tickled Minnie's lips at the comment that came to her head. "Because he's a better rapper than you?" She teased, looking up once she heard a gasp from her fellow '97 Liner, but silence from her dormmate.

"Wow..." he met her eyes as she bit down on her lips, trying not to break into a fit of laughter. "Wow..." Wonwoo just repeated while Dokyeom was already crouching over from laughing right behind them.

Minghao, who was just on his way over to them had stopped in his tracks, "Did she say he's a better rapper than you?" With wide eyes, he glanced at the two. "Did you really?"

"I'm sorry," Minnie shyly admitted, reaching out to place her hands on the rapper's arm. Was she, though? Not really.

The reaction it got out of the members made it definitely worth it. Sometimes, they'd forget the sharp tongue the female member was born with.

"I just wanted to say because he's louder," the '96 Liner looked down at the '97 Liners who were chortling together. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry!" She laughed, wrapping her arms around his frame, her face squished up against his chest. "You're right, he's only a louder rapper than you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

#minnie 🌷#seventeen #seventeen oc #seventeen 14th member #kpop #kpop oc #added member

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sorrowsofsilence · 8 months

Text

I Was Always Yours • 2

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 5.1k

Part One

Warnings: smut 18+ (mentions of PnV, wrap it b4 u tap it pls), fluff, female/male receiving, anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, alcohol, dirty talk

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Authors note: This is part 2! Initially I wasn’t planning on doing a second part but there was a lot of love on the first <3 so thank you! Hope you enjoy this one! (With 2 scenes of smut for all of us sick fucks to enjoy!)

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

Noah’s back rested against the bedroom wall, the red LEDs illuminating his room. The clock read 3am, way past our bedtime, yet here I was, succumbing myself to Noah’s need.

“I can’t stop thinking about a few days ago,” he had said as I sat in his bed, days after we reconnected. I was playing on my phone while he was messing around on his computer, working on music. We had hung out non-stop since seeing each other; catching up, sharing stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together like we used to with an added activity.

“Me either,” I had replied, sitting up as my heart began racing thinking about it. What were we now? Were we still just friends? Things were not the same, things were different, but It was a good difference, it was how things always should’ve been…but was it the right choice?

“Nicks asleep,” he had said, turning his chair to face me. It was silent for a moment, as we had stared at each other, trying to read the expression on one another’s face.

“I need you so bad Y/N, you have me completely whipped.” He had said, before standing up and walking over to me: he had started kissing me rigidly, taking me into his arms.

“You need to earn your way back to my lips,” Noah whispered as he groaned deeply, his long, inked fingers tangled within the strands of my hair, wrapped around in a desirable hold.

He held my head in place firmly as my mouth slid up and down, hand holding the rest, tongue swirling around the tip. My legs supported me from below as I kneeled before him at his mercy.

“Christ Y/N, you got cheated on when you can suck dick like this?” Noah looked down at me, eyes fluttering closed before tilting his head back in bliss. His hips rolled into my face gently, beginning to fuck my mouth as his other hand joined the first, gripping the other side of my head, “Man's fucking loss,” he scoffed in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes and internally laughed, choking on Noah before looking up through my lashes, watching as his mouth hung open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Watching the hold I had over him turned me on immensely. He was falling apart because of me.

I gagged on him for a moment longer, pushing myself as far as I could, before pulling off of him, the string of saliva following my lips.

“Fuck,” Noah gave me a breathy laugh, looking down in awe with a lopsided grin “You were gone from me for too long, you’re telling me we could have been doing this years ago?”

I gave him a small smile, “I think we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

I wrapped my hand around him, stroking up and down, rotating my wrist, before attaching my mouth to him again. Noah’s hands gripped my hair tighter, keeping me in place once again as he fucked me.

“Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your mouth like this,” Noah pulled me closer to his abdomen as he hit the back of my throat. I gagged but closed my eyes to keep going.

“Y/N, look at me,” Noah demanded and my eyes snapped upwards towards his own, and he watched me watch him. With his lips parted he observed my every move, heavy pants heaving from his chest, shallow grunts pouring from his soul.

“Shit,” Noah’s body began to twitch, and seconds later my mouth was filled, threads of his release coating the back of my throat.

Noah tucked my hair behind my ears, rubbing his fingers down underneath my chin, “Good girls swallow,” he said, “all of it.”

I moaned at his words and obeyed, watching his eyes glint with satisfaction and complete reverence as I sucked.

Drinking in all of him I pulled away, and Noah leaned down, pulling my chin towards him, planting a kiss on my lips. I melted into him, sighing with contentment as he pulled up his black shorts.

“I was always yours,” he said, “but you keep proving to me that I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

+=+=+=+=+=+=

“Folio, Jolly this is Y/N: Y/N, this is Folio and Jolly,” Noah introduced me officially to Nick and Joakim, the drummer and guitarist, and I immediately felt giddy. Although known Noah and Ruffilo for years, I had never met the other two current members in person; only through photographs.

I had to admit I was a little excited, because I really did enjoy their music, and therefore have always wanted to meet the other two.

“It’s cool to see you guys in person and not on a screen,” I laughed shyly, shaking their hands. Folio squinted with his eyes, his crooked tooth smile even more charming face to face. Jolly pulled me in for a shake and a hug, catching me off guard. I felt flush as his long hair tickled my face, patting his back.

“Nice to finally meet you! Noah hasn’t shut up about you.” Folio said, grinning.

Noah ran up from behind, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me up. I squealed with my back against his chest, laughing as he swung me around, playfully, “yea, because I missed her,” Noah laughed, placing his face in the crook of my neck, still holding on to me from behind.

I held on to his arms that crossed my chest, blushing at his signs of affection in front of his friends.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” Jolly smiled warmly, “fucking goof.”

“So, you guys were friends growing up?” Folio asked as we all started walking towards the car. Noah had insisted I ride with the boys to the concert, coming early to spend time and see how everything behind the scenes worked. I told Noah I’d be happy to wait in line with the rest of the crowd, but he was taking this VIP very seriously.

“You want me to punish you if you don’t listen to me?”

Yes please, I had thought; but all I could do was stare up at him as he slowly backed me up towards the kitchen table.

“Noah,” I whined, tilting my head at him as he gripped my hips, his cologne filling my senses, “I’m going to watch the show from the crowd, but I’ll come with you everywhere else.”

My back hit the wood, and Noah leaned over me, placing a kiss on my forehead before kissing down to my lips.

“Good,” he mumbled, his hand sliding around my hip to behind, squeezing me, “but you better be behind the stage by the time I walk off at the end of Dethrone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Yeah, Y/N, Noah and I went to school together,” Ruffilo said, offering me a hand to pull me into the car. I sat between him and Noah, Jolly and Folio sitting in the back row.

“Cool,” Folio said, before drumming on the back of the seat. I watched him, smiling.

“You’re pretty good at that hey?” I said, and he smiled back, shrugging.

“I’m hyped for today, I fucking love this place.”

We started driving towards the venue, and the closer we got to our destination, the more I noticed Noah’s anxiety beginning to spike. The entire time he kept his gaze out the window, hand gripping my thigh, resting his chin on his palm. His leg bounced rapidly, and ever so often I felt his fingers squeeze me, his hand beginning to vibrate.

I looked at him with concern, the smile from my conversation with Jolly fading from my lips as Noah took a brief sharp exhale, staying extremely still except for his leg. I placed my hand on top of his own, and Noah immediately stopped bouncing.

You okay? I mouthed, to which he shrugged, his dark brown eyes looking at me with apprehension before turning his gaze back out the window, the concrete jungle swaying past in a grey, lifeless blur. The boys became quiet, pretending to be preoccupied but watched; knowing that Noah was beginning to have a panic attack.

I flipped our hands, entwining my fingers with Noah’s and resting them on his moving leg, rubbing my thumb delicately across his skin. His hands were clammy but I held on in compassion, creating a soothing, rhythmic touch on the top of his hand. I rested my head on his shoulder, to which he placed his on top of mine.

Without saying anything I began to inhale through my nose, expiring throughout my mouth, and Noah eventually caught on, mimicking my breathing pattern. Opening up his palm, I ran the tips of my finger up and down each appendage, tracing the outline of his hand before circling his palm, moving from the centre outwards, before repeating the pattern. Noah analyzed my movements for a moment longer, and I sat up, turning my body to face him.

He watched me, eyes still filled with worry but transitioning to appreciation, before he closed his eyes, pushing his face into the side of mine affectionately. He stayed there for a moment, the soft breath of his exhale brushing across my cheek. With my free hand, I reached up, pushing the bangs delicately out of his face, running my hands through his hair, hoping the sensations helped distract him from his anxiety, even for a brief moment.

I felt sympathy for him, knowing that this must be the anxiety Nick mentioned that Noah’s struggled with lately. Fans have been crazy, and for someone who has always had a low social battery, I can imagine it must be even more difficult for him.

I gave Noah a small smile, before leaving in, giving him a delicate kiss of love and confidence, showing him that he is supported.

“Better?” I whispered, and Noah squeezed my hand in response, eyes lingering on me for a moment more before he let out another breath.

“I don’t know how I survived so long without you.” He whispered back, almost sighing in relief.

I couldn’t help but blush, resting my head on him again, and he wrapped his arm around me now, leaning me into his chest.

Once we arrived we were rushed into the building. Thankfully there were no fans out yet because we were so early- but I was glad because otherwise, rumours would start. Noah held my hand the entire way, only letting go once we arrived at the green room, and him heading to the washroom.

My eyes followed him as he left, the door closing quickly. I then turned to look at Ruffilo who patted me on the head.

“Nice work Y/N/N.” he hugged me, and I breathed into his chest, sighing.

Folio nodded in agreement, “Wow. I haven’t seen him calm down that fast in a while.”

I frowned, looking at the three of them sadly, “this is a usual occurrence?”

Jolly nodded, “unfortunately. Ever since the fans found out shit about where we lived and dug up stuff from his past, he hasn’t been the same.”

I turned, watching the door, waiting for Noah to return, “that breaks my heart.”

The boys nodded, agreeing.

“But honestly, we still have a fuck ton of fun,” Ruffilo said, reassuring me.

“Yea,” Folio said, beginning to drum the air, “now we get to fuck around until sound check.”

I laughed, “And that means?”

“Tomfoolery,” Jolly said, a glint in his eye, “and shots!”

+=+=

“Fuck I hate vodka,” Noah grumbled, eying the shot glass with a look of disgust, lip curling.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Sebastian,” I raised a brow, the boys cheering as I downed the shot, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burned my throat.

Noah plugged his nose before shooting it back, shaking his head as he swallowed it, coughing.

“That shit is literally vile,” he whined, chugging some juice to mask the flavour.

“Don’t be so dramatic pretty boy, you’re fine,” Jolly laughed, patting Noah’s back.

“You don’t know shit about fuck,” Noah glared, laughing.

“I don’t know shit about fuckin, but I know shit about everything else!” Jolly said, downing a shot himself, and I laughed, smiling harder than I probably have in years.

“Aight boys, time for soundcheck,” Noah said, before extending a hand for me to take. Entwining our fingers he led me with them. I had to admit this was very exciting, getting to see the process of how behind the scenes worked.

Once each section was set up, Folio started drumming, and I watched in amazement as his feet followed his arms, beginning to alternating patterns, hitting the double beat and cymbals.

“He’s extremely talented!” I said, appreciating the opportunity to watch Nick without any other sound present- just the drummer.

“Folio is a complete animal on stage.” Noah agreed, folding his arms and watching in approval.

It was Ruffilo’s turn next, then Jolly, and then Noah.

Noah held the mic close, fiddling with his earpiece, hitting a variety of notes. I watched in amazement, falling completely in love with his ‘acoustic’ voice. It was rare that I got to hear him bare, without any music.

Once they finished, they packed up, and Noah explained how the rest of the show was going to work. They were going to let the audience in soon.

“Are you sure you want to stay in the crowd?” Noah asked, reluctant.

I nodded reassuringly, “of course! I gotta get the bad omen experience.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick joined us, placing an arm across my shoulders.

“But- how else is he supposed to get a good luck kiss between songs?” Ruffilo teased as I leaned into him, slapping his chest playfully.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “he never needed those before and did just fine.”

Noah gave me a cheeky grin, “ok but now that I can have a good luck kiss, it’s gotta be a ritual now.”

I shook my head, smiling at him, “Whatever, I’m going to go get my fangirl on.”

I turned into Nick, squeezing him, “break a leg, but not literally,” I said.

“I’ll try not to or will I-“ he laughed, before turning to head to Folio and Jolly.

“I’ll let security know to keep an extra close eye on you, I don’t want you getting hurt- especially if a wall of death breaks out.” Noah said cautiously, “And I want you to be against the bar the entire time, and make sure to stay centred so I can keep an eye on you, ok?”

I tilted my head to the side, giving him a ‘really’ look.

“Noah,” I grabbed his t-shirt by the collar, standing on my tiptoes as I pulled him close to me, noses inches apart. Noah’s breathing quickened, his lips parting gently as his eyes trailed between my mouth and eyes rapidly.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips, and kissing him hard. Our mouths moved together, Noah wrapping his arms around me, folding into each other.

I pulled away, Noah following reluctantly, moaning in protest.

“Good luck,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Noah kissed me again quickly, before letting me pull away. As I turned to follow security, he grabbed my wrist, holding me for a moment, his eyes darkening. I watched him confused, before the sentence left his lips.

“Don’t forget what I said, you better be backstage by the time Dethrone is finished.”

A flash of heat washed throughout my body as I nodded, and Noah smiled. “Good. See you soon princess.”

Noah walked away, turning back once to give me a brief wink, and I flushed, following security towards the stage. I hopped down, standing right against the barricade.

Within fifteen minutes the venue started filling, the string of fans running towards the front, some even beginning to push into my back. I held onto the bar firmly, not letting myself be shoved to leave the spot. I shared eye contact with a security guard and I nodded, reassuring him I was okay.

About an hour went by, and eventually, the lights went dark, and the fans erupted into a roar.

I too began screaming, the adrenaline of excitement coursing through my veins. Seconds later the stage lit up with a visual, a video beginning to play. Noah, lying on a mattress with an initiation mask began speaking:

Why do you care about these people?

They don’t care about you- none of them?

They don’t even know you- because you haven’t shown them.

Black and white visuals flashed on the screen, and my heart raced with excitement.

Every day, you’ll wake up, and there’ll be less of you.

You live your life for them,

and they don’t even see you.

You don’t even see yourself.

Jolly walked out on stage, still completely dark, but the guitar riff to artificial suicide began.

Can you hear me through the white noise?

Fans screamed, bodies pushing against me in excitement, waiting for the brunette god to walk onto the stage.

The bass dropped, Folio’s drum beat taking over Jolly’s riff, as Ruffilo walked across the stage, masked, bass pumping through my ears. Fans howled again.

“Can you hear me you sick fucks?”

The crowd went feral.

Noah strutted into the stage, the embodiment of confidence and poise, swinging his arms before stopping mid-stage, gazing over the crowd, a hand covering his chest in appreciation for the turnout. His face was covered, only his eyes and mouth barely visible, as a black jacket and hood covered his body- it was almost a shame he was so modest, but I knew that in a few songs, he would strip, leaving himself exposed in that tight, black, vest top me and every other Noah fan admired.

“Can you hear me through the white noise!” He screamed into the mic, raising it in the air as smoke filled the venue, and I hollered in awe, yelling for my boys.

“Soaked in the neon glows

Silver-forked tongues talking to you in the digital snow

A glitch in the chain, a loop in the brain

You wanted to break, but you still wanna play the game!”

Noah bobbed around the stage, Jolly and Ruffilo head banging and I took it all in. The lights flashing, the smoke, the raging excitement radiating from the crowd- I smiled, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t help but feel proud of Noah and Nick, almost in disbelief that this was for them. They’ve grown so much, and it was entirely different getting to be part of the crowd myself compared to watching them online.

I screamed until my lungs felt raw, my throat burning, sweat dripping down my face.

All of this time sitting inside, sitting in the dark

And every night I can see why you could never stop, yeah

Lying is hard, and the truth comes out anyway

You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate

Noah sat in front of me now, singing into his mic, his hair covering his eyes as I watched, completely fascinated.

There's no another way, don't let me go

Don't dig another grave today

I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know

Who I was before I faded away into the grey

I gazed at Noah as he walked across the stage slowly, singing intentionally with every word, eyes scanning the crowd before he landed on me.

The song finished, and there was a short break, before Noah came back, jacket gone, the only thing remaining a pair of black cargo pants, boots, and that stupid fucking tank top.

The lighting defined Noah’s arms, his tattoos glistened from the sweat, and my heart began to race once again. My mind began to race with a million thoughts, but it kept landing on how good he’d look with his head tilted back as I took him in my mouth- or how much I wanted him to give me everything from behind, hands wrapped around my throat.

“What is up my friends!” Noah boomed, waving his arms, as the crowd yelled.

“We are bad omens and we are so fucking thankful to be here tonight!”

Nick hit the kick peddle of the drum kit in excitement, acknowledging the fans.

“We are gonna play an old song for ya, how does that sound?”

The crowd cheered.

“Who knows if I’m there?”

The crowd screamed again.

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

Noah crouched in front of the crowd, reaching his arms out. He followed down the front, until stopping right in front of me. Arm extended, the body of hands around me grabbing onto his arms, but he left his hand open.

Noah sang into the mic, watching my eyes with every move. I stared up at him with a smile breaking out onto my face.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

I raised my arm, grabbing onto Noah’s hand, feeling my breath hasten as an immense amount of emotions washed over me. Here I was, being sung to, in front of thousands of people- yet it felt like it was just me and Noah.

His words were for me, and my heart raced, pounding out of my chest as we gazed at each other. He squeezed my hand before letting go, making his way down the rest of the stage.

There was a short intermission, and I felt my phone buzz.

Checking it, I noticed Noah texted.

‘Don’t forget what I said.’

I chuckled, shaking my head as I responded.

‘I’ll be there you dork. You guys sound fucking amazing, you’re killing it.’

Seconds later, Noah responded.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me for this next one.’

My breath hitched in my throat, and the lights dimmed inside the venue again, before the bass began, introducing The Death of Peace of Mind.

My mind began to race again, and as Noah stepped onto the stage, his eyes immediately latched onto me.

I made another mistake, thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break, need to hear you say

You're gonna keep it now

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you touch, the way you taste

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames

Hanging upside down

For granted, in vain, I took everything

I ever cared about

Noah never broke eye contact during the entire song. Despite walking across the entire stage, his eyes never left mine- and I refused to let mine leave his.

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you fuck, the way you taste

Noah ‘Look at me’ Sebastian let his fingers flow to his lips, taking the shape of a V as he licked between them, the crowd going ballistic. I felt my own stomach begin to churn.

You come and go in waves

Leaving me in your wake

You come and go in waves

Swallowing everything

Are you satisfied?

The crowd screamed again, and once the song finished the introduction to Dethrone began. I motioned over the security, who helped me crawl over the barrier and escorted me away from the crowd. As I headed up the stage and walked behind the curtain, I watched the side view of the performance, the boys thrashing out their last song of the night, all energy put into this song.

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

Don't let 'em hit you on the way out when I take your place

As soon as the song finished they walked off stage, the crowd screaming behind them. All the boys smiled as they passed me, nodding sweatily. Noah on the other hand immediately grabbed me, kissing me firmly.

“Good fucking girl.” He said, smiling as his chest heaved with exhaustion. My face blushed again, especially knowing everyone around us heard his praise.

The crowd was screaming behind us again, and the boys had two minutes to compose themselves before going out to wave and bow. I waited patiently, watching them run out and smile with gratitude at the fans below them, throwing an assortment of picks and guitar sticks.

After a few minutes, the boys came back, and before I could say anything Noah instantly grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused, but my insides bubbled with excitement.

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you,” Noah muttered through gritted teeth, sending my heart into a frenzy of nerves. He tugged me through the halls, before finding a door, shoving me into the room.

It appeared to be a smaller version of a green room, the only things inside being a washroom and a couch. Almost like it was placed here just for us.

Locking the door swiftly behind him, Noah led me to the black letter couch sitting down, pulling me onto his lap.

I straddled him, his hands working their way underneath my skirt, gripping at the now-exposed skin.

“You didn’t wear shorts?” Noah moaned, almost instantly hardening at the realization. His tattooed hands ran along the back of my thighs, squeezing periodically, bringing his lips into my neck, biting at the skin gently.

“Do I turn you on that much?” I breathed hastily, closing my eyes, enjoying Noah’s worship over my body. He was fully indulging in me, taking every moment for himself.

“You don’t even fucking know,” he whispered, tugging the shirt off of my body, letting his lips trail across my shoulders, “the only thought I’ve had lately is what it would be like getting to eat you out after performing.”

I smiled at his words, closing my eyes as his lips trailed along my torso, my hips beginning to grind into his. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?”

Noah hummed in response, squeezing me to symbolize a yes.

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality then?” I whispered, and Noah’s eyes leered at me, completely insatiable with hunger.

His hands roamed across my body, and as I rotated on top of him, digging my core into his own, he let out a low groan, body thrusting upwards, slowly.

Noah’s hands pulled away my underwear, leaving me fully exposed underneath my skirt. “God I love the idea of you having nothing on underneath this, such easy access.”

I heard voices passing down the hall, and my head snapped towards the door, chest pounding.

“Th-There are people outside this door—” I said, pushing off Noah slightly, but his inked arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Noah said, chuckling lowly, “Just sit on my fucking face already.”

Noah stayed sitting, but pushed himself deeper into the couch as I crawled up, allowing myself to be right above him, almost hanging over the couch; his breath left a cooling sensation on my skin, and I shuddered in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me,” Noah demanded, pulling at my thighs.

“Spread them wider,” he said, and I tried, splitting myself completely for his need.

“Noah, please,” I whimpered, my body soaking for him, yet dreaded not being touched.

“Look at you,” he tskd, letting his long fingers rub along my folds, “coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.”

“Please,” I whispered ever so lightly, gripping into the back of the couch.

Noah’s fingers danced around my skin for a moment longer before he explored my body, inviting himself into my space and causing my thighs to desire to squeeze shut; but Noah held a firm grip, forcing me against his mouth. His tongue circulated me, before he sucked, moaning against my sensitive skin.

“Jesus Christ, I love the way you taste,” Noah slapped my behind, squeezing so hard I knew there would be a mark. I winced at the impact, but my body began to convulse against his lips as he assaulted me where I needed him most.

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that,” I moaned, rolling myself into his skin, trying to create more friction for my need. One of Noah’s hands left my skin, trailing down towards his cargo pants as he freed himself, and began to touch his own body.

“I want you to fuck me so bad Noah,” I cried, pushing into him desperately as I watched him pleasure his own impulse, slim fingers cascading through his heat.

“You’ll get that once we get home.” He said, panting from beneath me, “I want you to come all over my face.”

My mouth hung open as my orgasm built, ears began to ring. I let out a moan way louder than intended, causing Noah to begin to thrust into his hips, his body twitching with complete craving. His breathing quickened and I felt him struggle against me as I cried out, pushing against him one final time as I came undone, and Noah released all over his taped hand, rubbing out his own desire.

I panted, pulling myself off of his face and down into his lap, sitting on his mess.

“Imagine how amazing you’ll sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” Noah’s eyes were closed as he smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, out of breath.

After a moment I pulled him into a kiss, and we whispered praises against one another’s lips, which was met with gentle moans.

“I love getting to know you like this.” He sighed, pulling back to look at me as we heaved together, exhausted.

I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his own, appreciating what Noah and I had begun to build amongst our friendship.

I kissed him again, softly, my body flushing with heat again, “Will you let me ride you when we get back?”

Noah’s deep October eyes opened with lust, staring me down once again with an immense amount of need. “Only if you moan my name for everyone to hear.”

Oh god help me

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian smut #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian davis #bad omens smut #bad omens band #bad omens #metal #metalcore #heavy metal #smut #I was always yours

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k-itsmaywriting · 5 years

Text

In My Feelings (Modern Shirakiki AU)

I need more exercise! Shirayuki tells her roommate, Kihal, that this is the reason why she walks six minutes to the bigger train station instead of two to the one before it. Even though it’s about one minute away by the actual train.

Sounds fake, but okay, Kihal says back, spreading raspberry jam over her 12am toast. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Embarrassingly enough, it actually does.

First off, going to bed thinking about how she’s going to have a nice morning walk to get Obi’s coffee from the station is nice. He always greets her with a bright smile, and sometimes a pun that makes her giggle to herself throughout the whole day.

But what is also weirdly nice when she goes to bed are…the butterflies she feels fluttering in her stomach when she thinks about her. It makes her feel like a happy, blushy schoolgirl thinking about walking that extra mile to the bigger train station to see her blonde ponytail cascading over one shoulder, over her fitted blazer taut against the backs of her shoulders—

And just like that, she goes out like a light.

She makes it to the train station at ten to seven, exactly as planned.

Obi’s coffee shop is squeezed between the station’s newsagency and a ramen bar by the escalators down to the subway platform, tiny but cosy with hanging lightbulbs and tall chairs and tables along the walls. It’s popular later in the morning with students, so Shirayuki considers herself lucky she can hang there when it’s quiet.

As she crosses the station towards it, she catches Obi saunter across his little kitchen with a takeaway cup and sing, “Kiki~ Do you love me~? Are you riding~? Say you’ll never ever leave from—”

As though on cue, Kiki steps towards the counter with a beautiful eye roll and a groan. “Okay, Obi, thank you for that.”

“And I need ya. And I’m down for you always—” Obi’s eye suddenly flickers to Shirayuki. “Oh! Miss Shirayuki, good morning! The usual?”

By the time she reaches the counter, Kiki is already sitting back down behind her. Shirayuki’s smile matches Obi’s, “Yes, please.”

“One chai latte comin’ right up! Why don’t you go sit down? Kiki’s been waiting for you all morning.”

“Obi,” Kiki grits, but as Shirayuki sits in the chair across her, like usual, she rushes to swing an arm over the back of her chair. “Morning, Shirayuki.” She takes a sip of her coffee.

Shirayuki feels like she will never comprehend how Kiki is so effortlessly cool. “Good morning,” she says, hoping Kiki won’t notice the blush dusting her cheeks. “How was your weekend?”

Deep indigo flickers to green. Kiki sets her cup down, straightening her arm to fiddle with the lid as she leans further back into her chair. “Um, good. Just stayed home and I…” she coughs, “baked a cake. With the recipe you told me about.”

Shirayuki gasps and claps her palms together. “Really?! Did you like it? They come out super fluffy, right?”

“It wobbled like jelly when I poked it.”

Kiki chuckles and Shirayuki feels her heart leap. Because she laughs into her knuckles and turns her head away shyly like she doesn’t know how pretty and soft it is or how it makes Shirayuki feel. Short golden hair falling in front of her cheek – Shirayuki just notices she cut it short since last Friday. And it’s just brilliant, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique—

“Miss Shirayuki, I know you’re convinced you’re watching an actual angel descend from the heavens, but your chai is gonna get cold and you’re both about to miss your trains!”

And she falls back down to the earth.

She whips her head towards Obi. Her reusable cup is wrapped in his hand and planted on the counter as he raises both eyebrows at her. “Right!” She straightens. “Train! Work! Adult stuff, gotta go!” She stumbles off the high chair and smacks her arm against wood as she takes her cup. “Thanks, Obi!”

As she turns to leave the café, she takes Kiki’s hand instinctively and pulls her along. “Let’s go, I don’t want to make you miss your train.”

Kiki suddenly blurts, “Shirayuki, wait.”

She turns around and looks up at Kiki. They stand just outside the café, staring at each other, until Kiki’s eyes suddenly fall to their joined hands.

“Obi was just messing with you. We still have two minutes,” she says.

Shirayuki is still staring at their hands. “Oh…” She suddenly pulls hers away, and Kiki lets go.

“Yeah,” Kiki smiles, a little nervous. How strange of her. “Idiot, right?”

An awkward laugh falls from Shirayuki’s chest. “Totally!” That was totally what she was thinking about.

“So, Shirayuki, are you…” Kiki shoves a hand into one of her blazer pockets as Shirayuki looks up at her again. She takes a deep breath, and she swears Kiki’s ears are burning. “Do you want to get brunch on Saturday with me?”

A beaming smile widens across Shirayuki’s face. “Sure!”

It’s like birds are singing when they exchange phone numbers. Like the sun shines brighter than ever through the old, greying windows of the station when they say bye to each other for the day.

And as Kiki leaves to catch her train, Shirayuki catches Obi mouthing fucking finally before high-fiving himself.

Her smile doesn’t fall even a little on her way to work, or as she feels like she’s skipping up the hospital’s front stairs and through the automatic entrance doors.

But then they close behind her, and suddenly…

“Wait,” she mutters. “Did she even mean on a date?”

They go out for brunch three times in a month and Shirayuki still doesn’t know. Nothing has happened, but they’re still going every week. It’s killing her.

The sun has already dipped below the horizon when she leaves the hospital, a trail of purple skies and silver stars painting the sky in its wake. Heart a little heavier than usual, she stuffs her hands into her coat pockets and squeezes her shoulders closer to her neck.

She wonders why she’s thinking about it again all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because she’s tired. Maybe it’s because she’s tired and it’s only Wednesday. Ugh. Maybe that’s it. And it’s why her mind is wandering to more little sad things she doesn’t want to really think about, like how she forgot about a banana she packed and now her bag smells. Or how Kiki might not see their Saturday brunches the same way Shirayuki wants to see them. Or how it’s only Wednesday. Or how Shirayuki doesn’t even know if Kiki likes girls. Does Kiki even know that Shirayuki likes her?!

“Uuuuggghhhh!” Shirayuki presses her hands into her hair and tousles it harshly. She has to clear it all up somehow, needs to get herself out of the dark. Even if it means rejection. Besides, they can still be friends!

“Shirayuki?”

She spins around, fingers still tangled in her hair and…just there she is. “K-Kiki!”

As though she doesn’t see how Shirayuki looks like she’s having a mini crisis, she smiles at her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Shirayuki flats her hair under her hands. “Are you off work?”

Kiki nods. “I was actually thinking of going for some dinner at…uh…” She swivels her head around for a moment, until she looks at Shirayuki again, eyes just as gentle and kind. “That Tanbarunian restaurant over there. Would you like to join me, Shirayuki?”

Her nose flares as Shirayuki thins her lips. It’s now or never. “Kiki…can I be candid with you?” she asks.

For an instant, something flashes through Kiki’s eyes. Confusion? Fear? The answer is uncertain, but Kiki reaches across her chest and holds her arm. “Of…of course. What is it?”

“I…” She leans forward, something suddenly stopping her, leaving her mouth gaped open dumbly. “Kiki, you’re really nice, and I love hanging out with you and seeing you every day…”

She watches Kiki’s eyes fall. She almost looks scared and Shirayuki kicks herself. Out with it! She needs to get out with it!

“I really, really like you and I wish our Saturday brunches were just…” She gulps. “Dates!”

Kiki looks at her again, wide-eyed this time and oh god, Shirayuki’s face is on fire. Who knew autumn evenings were this hot? She certainly didn’t.

“I want to go on dates with you,” she clarifies. “Because I like you.”

Kiki’s mouth falls open. “You…you mean…?”

Shirayuki’s heart pounds in her ears. “I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine! It’s okay! Please don’t feel bad just because…”

“N-no, I mean…” Kiki inhales. “You mean we weren’t…dating already?”

Shirayuki swears her face just got slapped. Because…how? They never held hands, they never kissed. It doesn’t make sense! “You thought…we were…?”

Pink streaks across Kiki’s cheekbones. She holds her fist to her mouth and coughs, “Yes. And I thought you were the one that didn’t want it that way, so I wasn’t sure what to do…”

“Oh my god.” Shirayuki puts her face in her hands. “Kiki, I’m so sorry, I don’t know how I didn’t know and I…”

Kiki’s laugh rings prettily in the air as soft hands grasp Shirayuki’s and pull them away from her face. And she’s so close now, the early moonlight gentle against her hair, her skin and her lips tinted pink.

Before she even realises it, Shirayuki whispers, “And I’ve been really, really wanting to kiss you.”

Kiki gently cups Shirayuki’s cheeks in both of their hands. Her gaze upon her is intense, but full of love and adoration that awakens within her, before she closes them and the distance between their lips.

The days of tension seep out of Shirayuki’s muscles and she lets herself sink in Kiki’s kiss. It’s soft like clouds, gentle. Her skin pricks with warmth as she holds onto Kiki’s fingers, even though she wants to float with her forever.

Kiki pulls back first and Shirayuki finds herself chasing. But when she opens her eyes, Kiki brushes a strand of fiery hair from her face and tilts her head. “Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner.” She takes one of Kiki’s hands and turns towards the Tanbarunian restaurant across the street, Kiki laughing to herself as she’s pulled along.

#shirakiki #kikiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #it's past my bedtime but here pls have these girls loving each other!!!!!#bc i love girls!!!!!!!#and NO ONE CAN STOP ME #akagami no shirayuki hime

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h0tchner · 3 years

Text

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fandom #my fics #rb!!!!!! ily!!!!!!!!!#ivyheliotrope #abby!#aaron hotch

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natrogersfics · 3 years

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After All - Chapter 1/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

In the history of work-life balances, The Daily’s has to be the most bizarre of any company, and Natasha knows that it has nothing to do with the reasonable work hours Pepper is a stickler for implementing. One would truly be hard-pressed to find another work environment where the people get along so seamlessly. Sure, they have their disagreements, and their instincts are always to engage in debate rather than shy away from it, but for the most part, the second the clock strikes five p.m., all spats are forgotten in lieu of brainstorming which watering hole to head to (Dalton’s, always Dalton’s).

To say that her coworkers are like family seems like a banality on the surface, the type of line an HR Department would print in the welcome packet for a new employee before their first day on the job. But as she stands by the doorway of Tony and Pepper’s living room, watching the very people she works with on a daily basis joyously mingle with members of her actual family, she does not know how else she could possibly define them. These people are the best of the best in the respective subjects, their combined accomplishments the envy of anyone with even a scintilla of ambition to succeed in the media. And yet here they are, holding plates filled with rainbow cake and sporting unicorn party hats, all because these happen to be her daughter’s latest obsession and they’re all powerless to deny her – especially on her first birthday.

In some ways, she knew they would be fond of Isabel, but she never expected them to adore her quite like this – for Thor to bring her a strawberry cupcake every eleventh to celebrate each new month of her life, or for Stephen and Christine to insist that they come over so the latter can personally perform routine checkups, or for Tony to customize a double stroller for when he takes both Isabel and Maria to his workshop. What’s more, they’ve all rallied around her as well, none of them ever more than a text message away when she’s in need of anything, which proved invaluable as she navigated motherhood for the first time.

This outpour of love from a group of people who are not by any stretch obligated to go so above and beyond is an anomaly, she knows. It’s going to take some kind of miracle for her to find another group of genuinely kind people who would go up to bat for her and Isabel. And it’s that very thought that wrests the sadness she’s been trying to keep at bay all day as she ponders how this may be the last time in a long while that they will gather like this.

“Are you sure you have to go?”

The question breaks her out of her reverie, and she turns to see Darcy next to her, holding up two forks in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. She chuckles, reaching for the other fork as they both take a bite and moan at the perfection that is Sarah Roger’s baking. “I already paid the security deposit on the flat we’re staying in,” she says. “So that’s going to be a yes.”

“Flat, huh? Look at you, getting in on the lingo,” Darcy teases before groaning. “But until your butt is officially across the pond, it is an apartment. And it is take-out, not take-away. Which, coincidentally, we happen to have the best of here. Where are you going to get your Nom Wah fix in London, Nat, huh? Where?”

“They have a Chinatown there too, last I checked,” she counters, laughing when Darcy rolls her eyes. “Besides, I have to go anyway on the account of me being out of a job. I do have a child to support, you know.”

“First of all, the only reason you’re out of a job is because you got a big promotion,” Darcy says matter-of-factly. “Stupid corporate ladder.”

“Big words coming from the newly minted editor of The Daily’s International section,” she says, suddenly brimming with pride.

“Only because I learned everything from you,” Darcy says quietly before sighing in concession. “Ugh! You better not forget us when you’re out there being a hotshot editor-in-chief. And you better make sure Boss Baby doesn’t forget who her favorite is!”

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” she says, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the first person to truly become her constant at work. “You are many things, but forgettable is not one of them.”

“Yeah, true,” Darcy concedes easily, causing them both to laugh.

“Speaking of the Boss Baby though,” she says, checking her watch. “It’s almost her bedtime, so I better go make sure none of her grandparents have let her eat all the icing.”

“I think what you really have to be concerned about is an aunt and uncle helpless over her charms,” Darcy says, smiling knowingly. “Last I saw her she was in the kitchen with Bucky and Wanda.”

She’s about to thank her, but before she can, Darcy’s already running towards the center of the living room at Thor’s roaring announcement that a game of Pictionary is about to commence. For a second, she allows herself a moment to watch the pandemonium unfold as her friends – her fully grown adult friends, no less – vie for the positions of team captains. “Hooligans,” she says, shaking her head fondly before making a beeline for the kitchen. She pokes her head in, finding Bucky and Wanda poring over the cheese and cold cuts selection laid out on the island before knocking on the wall to get their attention. “Any of you know where Izzie is?”

“Nat!” Bucky exclaims, “you have to try this cheese. It smells like something died in it, but it’s so damn delicious!”

She tilts her head to the side, the corner of her mouth tugging up in amusement. “Maybe later, Buck.”

“Ignore him. He’s inhaled too much cheese,” Wanda says over the rim of her wine glass before pointing upwards. “Steve took her upstairs for a diaper change.”

“Thank you,” she says, turning to leave. She makes it to the stairs, climbing it two steps at a time until she reaches the top and stops in front of the framed collage of Maria on the wall. As her eyes scan the plethora of pictures, she can’t help but smile. She’s seen this frame countless times before, can practically name where each photo was taken and how old her goddaughter is in every one of them, but for some reason, she finds herself lingering before it, as if she needs to recommit everything to her memory lest she forget. She gives herself another minute, and with a sigh, forces herself to look away and walk down the familiar path to the nursery.

“Do you know how much Daddy loves you?”

Steve’s words stop her dead in her tracks, and through the door left cracked open, she catches a glimpse of him sitting on the rocking chair with Isabel across his lap, their daughter staring up at him as he feeds her a bottle. The sight of them gazing affectionately at each other punches the breath out of her lungs, and it’s only by instinct that she moves out of view, pressing her back against the nearest wall.

“I don’t even know if I have the right words to describe how much,” she hears Steve confess with a little chuckle, to which Isabel coos, and in her heart of hearts, she knows that she should not be eavesdropping on this moment – it isn’t hers, and yet, she finds herself unable to move. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t understand me all that well yet, so I have some time to figure them out...” He sighs, long and winded. “Though, if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I ever will. There couldn’t possibly be words in existence that will encapsulate how much I love every little inch of you.” Steve’s voice cracks by the end, followed closely by a sniffle. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, fig. And I’ll call you all the time, so please don’t forget Daddy while you’re over there, okay? You’re my whole world, baby girl…”

The hallway and the stairs and the foyer are all a blur as she bolts, the air around her suddenly too thick. She makes it out the front door, but by the time she gets to the bottom step of the brownstone, her legs feel too heavy to keep herself upright and she slumps down, placing her head in her hands as the Summer night’s air blows by and the sound of the traffic on the Upper East Side rings ambiently around her. She sighs. Steve’s words weren’t even meant for her to hear. It shouldn’t affect her this way – shouldn’t hurt her this way – especially when they’re full of adulation for their daughter. And yet, it’s as if she’s taken another dagger to her already crippled heart.

“Natasha.”

She looks up in time to see her mother take a seat next to her, and in the warmth of Melinda’s embrace, she finally lets the tears fall. “Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?”

“Oh, Nat,” Melinda says, reaching over to thumb her tears away. “You don’t have to do this. You know that, right?”

“Only I do,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost immediately. “He’s had a year. Heck, he’s had more than that to say something, give me a sign.” Melinda’s expression softens at her words, and she knows that it’s because despite offering her a way out only moments ago, Melinda’s one of the few people who knows she’s right. It’s been too long since that fateful night she asked Steve if she had a reason to stay, only to be met by silence. It was damning then, and it’s even more so in the time that’s passed since they’d agreed to postpone both her move to London and the implementation of their custody agreement until Isabel turned one. If he wanted her, if he felt even a fraction for her of what she felt for him, he had countless opportunities and ample time to say so. But now here they are, their daughter past her first year of life, and a day away from each of them getting her six months out of the year. She shakes her head. “He loves her so much. That’s more than I could have ever asked for, and in some ways, that’s always been the deal.” She turns to Melinda, smiling sadly. “I can’t keep hoping anymore. I have to move on.”

With a sad smile, Melinda drops a kiss to her temple. “Okay.”

In the months leading up to this day, there were countless times Natasha had caught herself imaging how it would play out. She expected a tear or two to be shed – Sarah and Melinda being the most obvious culprits – but at the very least, she thought the massive crowds at JFK would prove a compelling enough reason for them to not only keep it together, but also to keep their goodbyes short and sweet. But here, on the tarmac in Teterboro, with the Stark Industries jet before her and her entire family close by, she realizes that this is quickly morphing into her worst-case scenario – drawn out goodbyes, too many sad eyes, and her heart feeling all too heavy in her chest.

“You tell T’Challa that I will never forgive him for this.”

Pepper’s words elicit a laugh from her. “Oh please,” she says, scoffing even as she wraps her arms tighter around Pepper and pretends not to feel the warmth of the tear that drips down to her shoulder. “If you were at all capable of holding a grudge, the three of us would’ve stopped being friends long ago.”

“That was before he plotted to steal my best friend from me,” Pepper mumbles, making them both laugh. “Do you realize that this is the first time since college that we’re not going to live within a subway’s ride from each other?”

“We’ll drop by for Christmas,” she offers quietly, unable to trust that her voice won’t falter if she dares answer the question directly. Over Pepper’s shoulder, her eyes quickly glance at the group by the stairs of the jet – Sarah, Nick and Melinda, and Bucky and Wanda all gathered around Steve and Isabel – and she finds herself relieved that she had already said her lengthy goodbyes to most of them last night. She takes a step back from Pepper as she says, “These next six months will fly by.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony interjects as he comes up next to them with Maria on his hip. “Let’s not act like there’s not going to be a Stark Industries emergency in the London office in two weeks that only the CEO can solve.” He eyes Pepper and then her knowingly before nodding towards the jet. “Best not to misuse company property more than we already are.”

She rolls her eyes, breaking away from Pepper’s embrace completely. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who insisted on this whole spectacle?”

“You were gonna fly commercial,” Tony says, his expression twisting in disgust. “We’re not savages, Red.”

Her lips quirk up at that. To anyone else, Tony’s quip drips with arrogance and reeks of privilege from a life defined by exuberant wealth. But she’s known the man for over a decade now, and though most of the time his tact leaves much to be desired, she understands him enough to know how to read between the lines. Their friendship has never been defined by heartfelt tête-à-têtes, and part of her is glad that he doesn’t seem keen on starting that now. Nevertheless, she knows that making sure she and Isabel are nothing short of exceedingly comfortable on an already difficult trip, is Tony’s ultimate way of showing just how much he cares.

“Come here,” she says, stepping forward to engulf both him and Maria in a hug.

“Oh, we’re doing this?” Tony says. “Okay, we’re really doing this.” She ignores him, but it only takes a beat before she feels his free arm wrap around her as well, squeezing back. When they pull away, he has his signature smirk on his face. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She chuckles just as she drops a kiss to Maria’s forehead. “Bye sweetheart,” she tells her goddaughter before turning back to Tony, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does that list even exist?”

Tony winks at her, prompting Pepper to shake her head at the both of them.

“Indeed, it does not,” Pepper says, linking arms with her. “Come on.”

The pit in her stomach that she’s been trying to ignore since she got up this morning rears its ugly head once more. It’s for the best, she reminds herself. These four words have become her mantra ever since she uttered them that night in Steve’s office when she had first given him the custody agreement, and though her heart had never felt as eviscerated as it had in that moment, the fact that she’s only minutes away from jetting off to a different continent is testament to the fact that there’s truth in it. That, despite all that she’d hoped would change, this is how their lives must play out if they are to make their arrangement work. She sucks in a breath at the thought, at the finality of it all, and as she huffs out, the reassuring squeeze from Pepper grounds her enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Sarah is the first to notice them as they near, and she’s quick to offer her a warm smile before turning to Steve, whispering in his ear and giving Isabel one last kiss.

“Be safe, darling,” Sarah says when she makes her way over to her, cupping her face in her hands. “And please, don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” she says, smiling earnestly. “Thank you, Sarah.” Sarah’s barely stepped away from her when she feels two pairs of arms wrap around her simultaneously, and she can’t help but laugh when she finds herself sandwiched between Nick and Melinda. “Sucking up all my oxygen here, guys.”

“Call us the second you land,” Melinda orders. “And not a second later, you hear? We have your flight plan.”

“Or by God, I will order an F-35 to come find you,” Nick adds.

She scoffs. “You’ve been saying that since I was sixteen.”

“It was true then and it’s even truer now that you’re taking my grandbaby with you,” Nick says, eyeing her pointedly. “Don’t try me.”

“Fine,” she says, chuckling softly. “We’ll FaceTime you the second we land. How’s that?”

“Excellent,” Melinda says, hugging her tightly once more. “Our girl, we love you so.”

“Love you too,” she says to each of them. Wanda and Bucky are last in line, and as she accepts a hug from the former and a kiss on the cheek from the latter, she begins to make her way towards the landing of the stairs where Steve stands cradling a sleeping Isabel. She stops a foot short of them, tucking her hands into her pockets and mustering the best smile she can. “We should get going.”

Steve nods, turning to nuzzle the top of Isabel’s head. “Be a good girl for momma, okay?” he says, and she has to avert her gaze elsewhere at the way his voice breaks at the end. “Daddy loves you so much, fig.”

Just as she had the night before, she finds herself once again an intruder in a moment she has no business being a part of as she listens to Steve whisper sweet nothings to their daughter. But despite the feeling of being so unwelcome, so unwanted, she swallows it all down along with the lump that’s formed in her throat in an attempt to keep it together. It’s only when she hears Steve mutter a soft okay that she dares look back, watching as he steps forward to place Isabel into her arms.

“Shh,” she says gently when Isabel stirs at the movement, carefully shifting her so she can rest her head on her shoulder before turning to Steve. “I’ll text you when we land and again when we get to our flat, so you know she’s safe.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, letting a beat pass before shaking his head. “Natasha…”

For a moment, she can only stand there, letting his utterance of her name hang in the air between them. Where she finds the courage to look in his eyes, she isn’t certain, but she does. The pain in them is clear as the sky above them, but for whom it’s for, she can only surmise. Surely, for being separated for the next six months from their daughter, who’s oblivious to the loaded silence between them as she slumbers peacefully against her. And though she knows she shouldn’t, she lets herself wonder – wish, really – if only for a fraction of a second, and perhaps for the last time, that maybe that pain is for her, too. And that maybe, just maybe, now he would say the words she’s been longing to hear.

Steve sighs, and she holds her breath as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “Knock ‘em dead, Natasha Romanoff.”

Her eyes fall shut at that, and though he’s close enough that she can smell the familiar scent of his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin, they might as well be continents apart already. “Thanks,” she whispers, giving him a final nod before she turns to ascend the stairs.

There’s only the whirr of the jet taxiing towards the runway as she settles further back against the softness of the leather seat. Across her chest, Isabel sleeps peacefully, her curls glowing russet in the sunlight streaming through the window and her weight a welcome distraction from the hollowness burrowing deep inside of her, settling in. By now, she realizes, the sensation is just an old friend. She sighs, running her hand up and down Isabel’s back, holding her closer. “It’s just you and me, fig.”

I’m not freaking out, you are!

Steve’s brow arches as he reads the words in the blue bubble, and he does not waste time pressing down on the file attachment, eagerly waiting for the video to take up the entirety of the screen. Once it does, Isabel comes into view, sporting a gray Dodgers jersey with her hair pulled up in two symmetric pigtails as she clings onto the edge of a coffee table. The sight pulls his lips up into a beaming smile, all but threatening to split his face.

“Come to momma, fig,” he hears Natasha encourage in the background. “You can do it!”

Despite Natasha’s message alluding to the fact that this had been a fruitful exercise, he finds himself holding his breath as he watches Isabel blink, her eyebrows furrowing in suspicion as if she’s contemplating her mother’s words. On the lower part of the screen, her foot inches forward ever so slightly, though whether it is to test the waters or tease her mother, he can only guess. But then her dubious expression fades as quickly as it had come, making way for a toothy grin, and then his eyes widen as he witnesses her take one wobbly step and then trot the rest of the way.

“Yay!” Natasha cheers, eliciting an elated giggle from Isabel, and he can’t help but laugh along as the camera flips to show Natasha with Isabel now on her lap. “We’re walking!”

He types back a quick Yes! followed by But also, uh oh! 😬 before pressing play on the video once more, this time watching Isabel walk on her own without the nervousness that had plagued him only moments ago. It seems ridiculous – though he’s willing to bet that most parents feel the same way – but he feels pride surge right through him. Isabel was just beginning to get the hang of walking while her hands were being held up during her first birthday, and now, less than six months later, she’s already cruising along by herself. Time, he muses, truly does zip on by.

Placing his phone down on the counter, he stops to ponder his last thought. If there’s one thing he’s come to realize about time, it is that it can be a real conundrum – moving faster than you wish it would when you least want it to and slowing down to an agonizing crawl when you’re all but begging for it to fly. Only, these two facets seemed to be happening simultaneously in the last six months since his custody agreement with Natasha had taken effect. On one hand, Isabel is growing and changing faster than he can keep up with, becoming her own person with every day that passes. But at the same time, it feels as if his turn to have her, to witness these milestones unfold in real time, is an eternity away.

“I don’t like that face. Not one bit.”

He turns towards the sound of the voice, chuckling when he sees his mother walking into his kitchen, a box from her bakery in hand. “So much for a face only a mother can love.”

“Of course I love that face,” Sarah says, setting the box and her purse down on the island before hopping on the stool next to his. “I made it.” Sarah snickers as he rolls his eyes. “What I don’t love is when it’s all broody and scrunched up” – she points to his head – “means something’s going on up there.”

With a sigh, he unlocks his phone, opening the video back up before pushing it towards Sarah. His mother squeals upon seeing her granddaughter, picking up the device to get a closer look.

“She’s gotten so big!” she says, her eyes on the screen. “Goodness, she’s walking. Really walking!”

“She finally fit into the jersey Thor gave her before she was born, too,” he adds, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now it’s just right.” It’s probably the tone of his voice – crestfallen, though he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way – that causes Sarah to look at him, her eyes rueful. He waves off her concern. “I’m fine, ma. Some days are just harder than most. Technology’s great and all, but I still feel like I’m missing so much. And now...”

Sarah reaches over to place her hand over his. “I’m sorry they’re not going to make it for Christmas, darling.”

“It’s fine,” he repeats. While he isn’t due to have Isabel until after New Years’, with some cajolery from Melinda, Nick, and Pepper, Natasha had agreed that she and Isabel would come visit for Christmas. That’d been the plan even before they left for London almost six months ago, and if he’s being completely honest, it’s been the day he’s been counting down to since. But then an emergency at Natasha’s work came up, preventing her and Isabel from traveling until after the holiday and successfully upending everything he had been looking forward to. He sighs. “It’s still technically Natasha’s time with her and she was being really magnanimous about sharing Izzie for Christmas anyway.” He swipes his hand out, as if to dismiss his melancholy, but even that is half-hearted. “I was just really looking forward to it, you know? Bucky already bought her a beanie with Reindeer antlers that light up and I thought maybe she could still see the Rockefeller tree.”

“Still might,” Sarah says, to which he gives a non-committal nod. “They don’t take it down right away anyway. But have you maybe considered asking Natasha if you can fly there for Christmas?”

“What?” he nearly spits out the word in surprise, tilting his head to the side as he looks at his mother like she’s grown three heads. “What’re- I mean, what in the world makes you think she’d agree to that?”

This time, it’s Sarah’s turn to look at him incredulously. “You two have been getting along great these past few months, haven’t you?”

“We text about Izzie,” he says, “and yes, Natasha’s there when we FaceTime too, but that’s because she has to hold up the phone on the account of Izzie wanting to put everything in her mouth. That is not the same as getting along great.” He sits up straighter, shaking his head. “Besides, spending Christmas together? In London? That’s not even remotely in our-”

“Oh please,” Sarah interrupts. “I don’t care what you two have written down in your contract-”

“Custody agreement,” he corrects.

“Semantics,” Sarah counters. “Like it or not, you and Natasha are forever bonded by the beautiful baby girl you two brought into this world. That makes you family, and families spend Christmas together.” Sarah shrugs, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and seemingly deliberating her next words. “Unless…”

He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. “Unless?”

“Steven, hon, you know I don’t like to pry,” Sarah says carefully. “But ever since… well, okay. I suppose I thought that maybe things between you and Natasha… especially after Izzie was born… I thought maybe you two would give it a chance. But then nothing happened, and I said I’d leave you two to it. It’s your lives. But now she’s over there, making a life for herself and you know what? Good on her. But then I see you, and I… It just seems to me like you’re stuck. And I feel like I’ve seen this before, so I have to ask… Do you maybe still have feelings for Natasha?”

His eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “That is not what-”

“And that is not an answer.”

“I…” he begins, only to pause to collect his thoughts. “I have had the tremendous opportunity of curating for a successful gallery and overseeing its expansions. And that is on top of my day job at the paper and making sure I am pulling my weight as a co-parent. I’m barely in the same place for five minutes, so quite frankly, ma, by definition I think that’s the opposite of being stuck.” When Sarah’s pointed glance does not let up, he sighs. “Look… if the lack of two more seats at our Christmas table this year is any indication, I’d say my feelings weren’t any good on a one-way street. If I were stuck, I’d still be standing on it, but like I just said...”

Sarah puts her hands up. “Well, if all the hatchets are buried…” she says as she moves off the stool and slings her purse over her shoulder. “No harm in asking then, is there?” She reaches over to the counter, pushing his phone back to him and nodding towards the screen. “You don’t get any of these moments back, Steve. So if there’s any chance you can be a part of them instead of watching from afar, try.” With a smile, she leans in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday at brunch.”

Sleep eludes him later that night as he watches the shadows dance across the ceiling, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Sarah. As he ruminates on its substance, he’s suddenly transported back to that night almost two years ago when Natasha had received her award from the Journalists’ Guild. At that point, their relationship had plunged into this strange and confusing pitfall. They had gone from living together as Natasha recovered from her awful fall, falling into domestic bliss as they did, to her serving him a custody agreement in his office seemingly in a blink of an eye. When he approached her that night for a dance, all he truly wanted was to erase the distance and the silence that had grown between them. But sometime in the middle of them swaying along to a soft string tune, she had informed him that she was going to take the job in London, and as he remembers how her words had made him feel then, hurt washes over him anew. She had pulled the rug from underneath him, sending him into free fall that, by the time she was accusing him of having never wanted their child in the first place, and asking him if she had a reason to stay, he was frozen. Speechless. Powerless to stop her from walking away and disappearing into the crowd.

Navigating their relationship after that night was incredibly difficult. They were both hurt, and understandably so, but giving each other space became nearly impossible when Natasha’s pregnancy spurned more health complications. They weren’t grave, thankfully, but it was enough to bring them to the sober realization that regardless of what had transpired between them, they couldn’t let their feelings get in the way of prioritizing the one thing that meant the world to the both of them. And by the time Isabel was born, the effort they’d both put in to make their circumstances work was so much that he told himself that it did not matter that his feelings for Natasha were not only lingering, but also brewing deep – rocking the boat was the last thing the three of them needed.

Further, what he had told his mother hadn’t been a lie. Feelings are no good on a one-way street. Perhaps there was a point where Natasha had felt the same way about him as he felt about her, but that was all moot now. In the end, she had gotten on the plane to London, and though he wanted nothing more than to tell her how he truly felt as they said their goodbyes at the airport, he still did not know with a certainty if that would have been enough. That, his love was a compelling enough reason for her to forego an opportunity that she’d been working towards her whole life. So instead, he told her the one thing he knew she’d do anyway – go and succeed. And if the reviews of the paper she’s helming and their cordial co-parenting relationship are anything to go by, it’s clear that staying mum was the right call.

It’s then that the merit of Sarah’s earlier argument becomes clear. While spending Christmas together isn’t something they’ve ever discussed, with the both of them moving forward, perhaps there really was no harm in asking. Perhaps what’s in the past can stay in the past. Perhaps Christmas didn’t have to be so somber this year.Before he can change his mind, he reaches for his phone.

Natasha holds her breath as she creeps out into the hallway, relief crashing down on her like a ton of bricks when she successfully clicks the door shut without hearing a cry. With a sigh, she brings a hand up to the bridge of her nose, pinching down and letting her eyes fall shut in exhaustion. Isabel’s been restless the last couple of days, waking up intermittently and distraught for reasons that she cannot seem to figure out. To top it all off, despite the holidays fast approaching, her workload only seems to grow exponentially, and with the recent lack of sleep, the fatigue is getting harder to stave off.With a heavy exhale, she straightens up, willing herself back to her living room and to where she left her laptop on the couch.

The words on the open document on her screen are ones she’s read enough times that she can recite them verbatim from memory, and yet, as she tries to come up with the next sentence, her mind draws a blank. With a groan, she pushes her screen down shut. Writing has always been her outlet of choice, allowing her to clear her head by losing herself in the topic of her current piece, and for it to fail her now when she’s most in need of a catharsis, she can’t help but feel even more untethered.The ding of her phone cuts through the silence, and she looks towards where it’s resting on the cushion to see an email notification pop up.

Picking it up, she glides a finger over the bubble on the screen and sighs when she sees the subject line read:

URGENT – Meeting w/ PR tomorrow

Without reading the contents, she closes her email app, deciding that at two in the morning, she just does not have the mental bandwidth to deal with any more work woes. But as she does, her photo stream appears, and a video begins to play. The camera zooms in, showing Steve carefully lifting a six-month-old Isabel up to blow bubbles on her belly, and she stops to watch Isabel giggle. In her desperation to soothe Isabel tonight, she had decided to play the video as she rocked her to sleep, and much to her relief, it had worked. Within minutes, and with Steve’s voice on loop in the background, Isabel had finally gone to bed.It’s when the frame switches to Steve and Isabel playing peek-a-boo that she finds her throat tightening. When she had moved six months ago, she had believed that not only was it the right decision, but also that the challenge of a new job and readjusting to a different country would aid her in moving on. But as Isabel’s soft coos and Steve’s laughter from the video fills the room, the sounds only seem to further underscore how big and empty her flat feels.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the audio cutting off, and she glares at the screen in anticipation of another work-related email, but her eyes only widen in surprise when she sees a text from Steve.

Hey, do you have time to talk tomorrow morning (late afternoon your time)? Just had a question…

As she reads the text, her eyebrows furrow. While they communicate several times a week, it’s only so he can video chat with Isabel or so she can send him Isabel’s latest photo. It’s not like him to shoot her a text out of the blue, and it’s even more so unusual for him to be vague about the subject. She bites her lip as she contemplates a reply, typing something out only to delete it. By her fourth attempt, her mind begins to race with a deluge of questions. With a huff, she puts her phone down, and finds herself almost grateful when she catches the porch light next door flicker on through her window. Hurriedly, she gets up, running through her foyer and hastily throwing her door open just as her neighbor is about to place their key into the lock. “Any chance you’re up for a nightcap?” she asks, biting her lip.

Her neighbor turns, looking every bit as tired as any reasonable person returning home at this hour should. Nevertheless, he smirks. “When you’re offering?” he asks. “Always.”

“Long week, huh?” she asks later on as they sit on her couch, each clutching a glass of wine.

“Endless,” he says as he angles to face her. “Two back-to-back shifts with a twelve-hour surgery somewhere in between that nearly went critical, to be exact.”

“Nothing the great Dr. Laufeyson couldn’t handle, I’m sure,” she says, eyeing him knowingly.

“The patient survived, if that’s what you’re alluding to,” Loki says, prompting them both to laugh.

Her gaze falls to her wine, watching the dark liquid swirl as she rotates the glass in her hand. “Must be nice, though,” she says, “knowing what you do saves lives.” She looks over at him as she adds, “That of children, especially.”

“It is,” he agrees. “They’re wonderful and pure, as I’m sure you know. Not yet privy to the trickery and harshness of the world at large like we adults are... But that’s a conversation for a different time.” He takes a sip of his wine before arching a brow at her. “So, tell me, Miss Romanoff. What is it that has you keeping me from my bed?”

She scoffs. “Didn’t realize I had the power to make you do things you didn’t want to do.”

“I’d do anything for you and that little angel of yours,” he says before shrugging. “You know that.”

Loki’s words bring a smile to her face. For all her struggles in the last six months, meeting and getting to know him has been one of the bright spots that’s kept her going. That, and the fact that he lives next door and is up at ungodly hours like she is, is convenient – especially on nights like this when she could really use someone to talk to. It’s with that reminder that she sighs and goes about catching him up on everything that’s been plaguing her mind since the last time she saw him. When she finally gets to Steve’s text, she hands him her phone. “I’m probably just over analyzing it,” she says. “For all I know, he probably just wants to FaceTime with Izzie more.”

“Then why not just get to it then?” Loki challenges. “Natasha, let’s be honest about what this is really about.”

She shakes her head. “I just said that he-”

“I don’t mean about him,” Loki says, sighing when she stares confusedly at him. “You’ve basically just admitted to missing the man-”

“I said no such thing!”

Loki shoots her a withering look. “Do you’ve any idea how many parents deny how much sugar they’ve fed their kids as I hold the results of their child’s blood work in my hands?” He scoffs. “It’s easy to say things, Natasha, but you cannot deny what is so. I assume you sulking in the dark and watching videos of him and Izzie aren’t just because you’re feeling nostalgic.”

“What do you want me to say, Loki?” she asks. “That I’m freaking out about this because I’m... lonely? Tired? Tipsy?” She chuckles, but it’s humorless, hollow. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she adds, “or that moving thousands of miles away was for nothing seeing as I’m still so pathetically in love with someone who clearly doesn’t love me back and who can seemingly pull me apart with a single text?”

“Only if that’s the truth,” Loki says, making her shoulders sag in defeat. “Natasha, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He takes her hand in his, causing her to look at him. “I simply wanted you to be honest about what’s at play here.” He sighs. “I don’t claim to know what or how he feels. And for that matter, what you truly do, and I will not pry. But what I do know is that you are smart, strong, gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to have you. The ones that don’t see that? They’re idiots and they don’t deserve you.” Her lips quirk at that, and he smiles. “Remember that the next time you think one text from someone can pull you apart, hm?”

Loki punctuates his words with a gentle squeeze to her hand, and as she lets the gravity of his sentiment sink in, she nods. “Thanks,” she says, laughing when he only winks and brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

By the time Loki bids her goodnight and she makes it to bed, her mind feels a little clearer. Maybe she’s right and that whatever it is Steve wants to ask her is something as small as wanting more time to talk to Isabel, but the reality is that she’ll never know if she doesn’t find out. And if it turns out to be something that takes a wrecking ball to her heart all over again, if what Loki said is anything to go by, then maybe she isn’t giving herself enough credit. She has made it this far – scars and all.

With that in mind, she reaches for her phone and searches for Steve’s message to type out her reply.

Sure! Talk to you then.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

#Romanogers #After All #A Little Favor #natrogers #natrogersfics #new fic alert #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #au #fanfic #what if

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issykiwi · 4 years

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My first ever bechloe fanfic! (pls be kind lol)

Prompt: Both like reading the same book over and over from the college library and start leaving each other notes in it as they both take it out every couple days, then finally one of them leaves their number in the book...

Chapter 1! (im gonna keep writing even if no one likes this lol)

It was only 2 weeks into the semester and already Beca knew that she hated college. From the stupid classes her dad had enrolled her in, to the fact that her only friend there was her roommate, Kimmy Jin- and they weren’t even really friends. The second Beca had moved into her dorm and Kimmy Jin had given her that look of disgust she knew this year was going to drag. The only thing that kept her going was the promise her dad had made: that, if she completed a year of college, he would pay for her to move to LA and support her in trying to live out her dream of becoming a big time producer.

So here she sat now, creating tracks on her little set up. As she scrolled through her music library, searching for inspiration, she noticed a particular song. One that seemed extremely out of place compared to the songs surrounding it. The song was “A Narnia Lullaby”, from the movie, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. To others this song would’ve seemed an odd choice for someone like Beca to even have in their library, let alone for her to actually like the song. But it reminded her of childhood innocence, hope, and her mom.

Growing up, Beca and her mom read The Chronicles of Narnia together as bedtime stories over and over as they both loved all the books. In 2005 when Beca was eleven, a movie adaptation of the first book came out and they were obsessed, they watched it so many times they could both easily recite the film from memory. Narnia was Beca and her mom’s special thing. However, within a year of the movie coming out, Beca’s mom got suddenly and extremely unwell and passed away just before Beca’s twelfth birthday. Ever since then, Beca couldn’t read or watch the Narnia series. She didn’t even listen to “A Narnia Lullaby”, it was just in her library because she needed the comfort of knowing that it was there; that a small piece of her mom was with her when she needed.

Whilst looking at the song though, she felt the urge to listen to it, to feel like her mom was there with her again, just for a second. So, she did. One minute and thirteen seconds later as the music came to an end, she had tears streaming down her face and an aching in her chest. She still missed her mom so much. She knows her mom would’ve supported her career choice, unlike her dad and awful stepmom. She couldn’t believe it when her dad got remarried to this Sheila woman just a year and a half after her mom died, she isn’t even a nice woman! From the second her dad introduced Sheila into her life she felt like shed lost both her parents and all her support. Sheila managed to change her dad completely. Prior to her, he was outgoing, funny and cared about Beca more than anything in the world; but now, all he cared about was making Sheila happy and trying to make Beca as invisible for the woman as possible. Beca had had been thoroughly miserable the past five years.

Whilst musing over all of this, her laptop suddenly pinged and a little notification came up on her screen saying she had received an email. She clicked on the notification and saw it was from the college library. Skimming over it, she gathered that it was just about the fact that they had recently had a range of new books added to the library as it had been extended during summer vacation. She clicked away and went back to her music library, immediately faced again with that song. An idea popped into her head: what if she went down to the library and took out the first Narnia book to read? Just as a celebration of finally moving out of her dad’s house and hopefully being able to live her life how she wants again. Her mom would’ve liked her to not just forget about something that connected them so much. Right? Right. She stood up out of her chair and grabbed her keys, determined to go and get this book.

As she walked into the library she headed straight for the fantasy books by authors with surnames beginning with L, ignoring everyone around her on her way. There it was the familiar cover facing outwards as it was one of the suggested and displayed books on the shelf. She picked it up and immediately opened the book to the first page, where she noticed something odd. Someone had written in it? Was that even allowed in library books? In the top left corner of the page in beautiful cursive writing was “Don't run from who you are. Love, CB” Beca immediately recognised this as an Aslan quote and felt that same feeling of comfort that the books had originally given her when she was younger; when she had felt different to the other girls at school as they all ran about chasing boys and gossiping whilst she sat alone reading a different book each day, escaping from reality and into a world where she could just be. A world where typical societal rules and expectations didn’t exist, where she could imagine living out her life with a beautiful girlfriend like Susan Pevensie, Hermione Granger or Violet Baudelaire.

Whoever CB was that had left this note would not know the importance of this single quote to her and this finalised it for her. She was going to read the book and she wasn’t going to read it in a sad way, missing her mom the entire time, but she was going to read it with hope for the future she had always dreamed of.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #anna kendrick #brittany snow #pitch perfect #fanfic #gay #wlw #lesbian #au #prompt list #books #angst #swanqueen

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exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years

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first love | myg

pairing: none. this is a solo yoongi fic

summary: nothing is for certain. except yoongi’s love for his piano. or: first love in too many words

genre: song fic, angst

warnings: some mentions of depression and yucky thoughts, potentially triggering mention of a panic attack (i tried to be purposefully vague but just in case), potentially graphic depiction of a car accident

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: hello! so uh here i am making my debut! i am still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster that was bangbangcon and it kinda rallied me into wanting to publish this?? i adore first love, i think it is such a poignant, poetic representation of yoongi’s love and devotion to music and i really wanted to explore that relationship a little in story form. i’ve had this written for a while and i’ve always wanted to write stuff on here but never had the courage. but i figure we all collectively need some respite from our emotions so here is a small gift, if anyone would like to take a look. if you do, pls enjoy and let me know your thoughts! <3

(also, please keep in mind that artistic liberties were taken despite being based off of yoongi’s life.)

Yoongi is five years old.

He wanders out of his room, looking for his mom. He just has to show her this awesome drawing that he made. He knows that she’ll love it, that she will be proud of him. Smiling gleefully, he toddles off into the rest of the house to find her.

“Eomma!” he yells, hoping she’ll hear him and give him a clue as to where she is. Maybe she’s playing hide and seek! Yoongi giggles at the thought, determined now more than ever to find her.

He checks his parents room, frowning when he realizes it’s empty. It’s not bedtime, he reasons, she wouldn’t be in here. Closing the door, Yoongi sets off into the living room to check there. But there’s no sign of his mother there either. She’s not in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open so she’s not in there either. Frustrated, Yoongi turns to go back to his room.

On his way back, he spots a door at the end of the hall. His eyes narrow as he purses his lips. He hadn’t checked there yet. Maybe she really is hiding from him. Deciding it was worth a try, he stomps over to the door and reaches up to grab the handle.

It takes a few tries but Yoongi manages to gather enough strength to push open the door. He whips his head around, checking every possible corner for signs of his mom. He’s about to let out a frustrated whine when his eyes catch on something on the far wall to his right.

A piano.

Yoongi had seen pictures of pianos before in the stories his mom would read to him before bed but he had never seen one up close. It’s massive, towering over his small frame in a way that should have been intimidating but only filled him with quiet wonder.

Scrambling up on the tall bench--which should have tipped over with the force of his jump but it miraculously stayed put--Yoongi takes in the white and black keys, marveling at the way they shine in the light coming from the window. He sticks out a small, chubby finger and presses one of the keys. The note rings out around him and he giggles in delight.

Pretty, he thinks. He begins pressing keys in earnest, playing around with different note combinations and laughing in pure joy when he finds a pair that he likes. He’s so enraptured by the piano that he hardly notices when the door creaks open.

“There you are, little one.” His mother’s voice has a playful lilt in it as she watches her son play the piano with unadulterated glee.

“Eomma!” Yoongi cries, excited to show her his discovery. “Look! A piano!”

“I see!” she laughs. “You’re quite the musician.”

“Musician,” he repeats, liking the way it feels on his tongue. “I feel so nice, mom.”

Yoongi’s mother cards her fingers through his hair fondly, chuckling at her precocious son. “Hmm, maybe the piano likes you. You two will grow up to be the best of friends.” She scoops the young child in her arms, heart warming at the squeals of laughter the action elicits.

“Come on now, my little Beethoven,” his mother says, setting Yoongi back down on the ground and taking his small hand in hers. “It’s time for lunch.”

As he follows his mother out of the room, Yoongi takes one last look at the piano. He smiles, already excited to play again.

Yoongi is fourteen years old.

The last bell rings, signaling the end of the school day but Yoongi hardly hears it, pen scribbling furiously across his paper. Inspiration had struck in the middle of math class and he has to get the lyrics down before he leaves to go home.

Finishing, he rereads through his work with a small smile. He’s quite proud of these lyrics, thinks they might be the best yet. He already has an idea for a backing beat swirling in his head, one that would really compliment the message of his rap and the new flow he’s been experimenting with. He feels giddy with excitement at the idea of playing around with some different sounds. Standing, Yoongi packs up his things, throwing his journal into his bag before heading out with the rest of his classmates.

As he walks, Yoongi is, not for the first time, conscious of how alone he is. Girls walk in line with their arms interlocked while the guys are loud and boisterous, hanging off each other with wide grins on their faces. He has friends of course, if you could call the neighborhood kids he plays basketball with on occasion “friends,” but none that he would consider particularly close to him. The thought leaves him feeling strange so he shuts it out, shaking his head roughly as if to physically dispel it.

He makes his way to the school entrance, hanging a quick left past the convenience store to the bus stop. He catches a glimpse of a group of students talking and laughing, indulging in a hot bowl of ramen before heading home. Yoongi’s stomach rumbles at the sight and he pauses, calculating. His shoulders slump when he realizes he doesn’t quite have enough, the change burning a hole in his pocket just enough to cover his bus fare home and little else. He doesn’t get paid again until Friday. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ignores the cramping in his stomach and continues on to catch his bus.

The bus ride home is, thankfully, uneventful. He trudges his way from the bus stop to his house. Like he does every day. As he climbs the steps, Yoongi thinks a little wryly to himself that the house that had seemed so huge to him as a child feels scarcely bigger than a prison cell. Maybe it’s the hunger talking.

Opening the front door, Yoongi sighs out a half-hearted I’m home! despite knowing the house is empty. He bends over to shuck off his shoes and place them in the cubby. A soft thud sounds behind him but he doesn’t notice.

Yoongi heads to the kitchen to down a glass of water in the hopes of dispelling the growing hunger pangs before shuffling to his room, tossing his backpack carelessly at the foot of his bed and flopping face-first onto the thin mattress. He knows he should probably get up and finish his homework but he still feels the residual exhaustion from his weekend shifts at the convenience store. Maybe he should ask Mr. Kim to lighten up on his hours. Yoongi would have to sell more songs to make up the income difference but he thinks it might be worth it to get some extra sleep.

He nods off for what he swears can’t be more than a few minutes but the sound of the front door shutting and the way his room has dimmed significantly suggest otherwise. Swearing, Yoongi turns on his bedside lamp and rubs a tired hand down his face. He stands, stretching his tight muscles, and moves to grab his bag from the floor. The house is eerily silent considering his parents have just come home but Yoongi brushes the thought away in favor of pulling out his textbook to get started on his homework.

Just as he’s about to sit down, a figure stops in front of his bedroom doorway. Yoongi looks up, a small smile and a greeting on his lips. They both wither at the sight before him.

There stands his father, holding his lyrics journal. Yoongi feels his mouth go dry.

They stare at each other for an immeasurable amount of time. Yoongi tries to think of something, anything, to say but his mind has blanked and his skin prickles in a cold sweat. His father recovers before he does.

“Min Yoongi,” he begin, voice deceptively calm. “What is this?”

“A-Appa,” Yoongi stutters. “I can explain--”

“I thought we talked about this, Yoongi.” He steps into Yoongi’s room and the younger boy fights the urge to cower where he stands. “You should be focusing on your studies. Not on these frivolous songs.”

Yoongi winces and tries to push down the flash of irritation. “Yes, appa. B-But I haven’t been letting it affect my grades. I get all my school work done and I try to help you and mom out by picking up extra shifts at Mr. Kim’s store--”

“And selling this drivel on street corners?” Yoongi freezes. His parents weren’t supposed to know about that. “Oh yes, I know all about your little escapades on the streets. Do you know how risky that is? What kind of danger you could be putting yourself in?”

“I…” Yoongi’s voice sounds incredibly small and he hates it. “It’s just to get my name out there. Get some experience.”

“You don’t need experience. This…nonsense--”

“It’s rap, appa. Hip hop.”

His father fixes him with a look but doesn’t comment. “This isn’t a real career, Yoongi.”

“But I… I love it,” he whispers, trembling with repressed anguish.

“Love is not enough to make a living.” His father closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “Is there more?”

Yoongi hesitates before nodding slowly.

“Give it to me.” He holds his hand out, frown set deeply on his forehead. “This ends now.”

Balking, Yoongi takes a step back, heart crawling into his throat and suffocating him. “A-Appa, no. You can’t--”

“I can and I will. Hand them over, Yoongi.”

The boy feels something akin to rage rush through his veins. He chances a glance at the doorway and sees his mother standing there uneasily.

“Eomma,” he cries thickly.

His mother looks equally as pained but her gaze flickers to her husband. “Your father is right, Yoongi-yah. This… Rap is a hobby, not a job. This could get you involved in the wrong circles. You need to focus on your school work.” She doesn’t meet his gaze.

Anger bubbles in his chest and stings at his eyes, but he chokes down the frustrated scream threatening to tear itself from his throat and moves mechanically to gather his other notebooks full of lyrics. Stiffly, he stands before his father and offers the notebooks.

His father’s expression softens minutely. “We’re doing this for your own good, Yoongi. Please do not doubt this.” With that, he leaves. A year’s worth of lyrics. Gone. His mother lingers at the door but ultimately leaves without another word.

Suddenly, his room feels too small, the faded walls of his old home closing in on him rapidly. Frustration and the anger swirl so violently in his stomach Yoongi thinks he’ll be sick. He can’t be here anymore but he also can’t leave.

So he runs to the only place he can think of.

The piano room has remained largely untouched since his younger days. The air is stale and faintly musty but Yoongi doesn’t care, can’t bring himself to care as he flings himself onto the old piano bench, arms cradling his head atop the fallboard. Hot, angry tears fall in torrents down his cheeks and his fists clench so tightly he can feel the sharp sting of his nails on his palm. He muffles his cries into his arms, into the piano, unable to keep the sounds to himself any longer.

It takes a while for Yoongi to calm down. Eventually, his tears slow and his breath evens out, though it still hiccups slightly in his chest. He sits up gingerly and stares down at the piano. He hasn’t been here in years and yet… It felt so natural to come here for comfort. Like it was waiting for him.

Shakily, he moves to slide the fallboard back, revealing the shining keys. He straightens his back, falling into position. His fingers hover over the keys, supported lightly by his wrists. The angle is different now that he has grown, no longer dwarfed by the beautiful instrument. Hesitant, Yoongi tries to recall one of the songs his music teacher had taught him and begins to play stiltedly.

It’s awkward; his fingers can’t quite move the way they used to and his new height works against him as he tries to find a comfortable position to play. But the longer he sits, the more comfortable it becomes until he feels like he’s sat here his whole life--playing, listening, living. Yoongi feels a shiver travel down his spine, cleansing and fresh. The anguish and tension from earlier bleeds through his fingertips as he loses himself.

Gradually, Yoongi stops playing, letting the resounding final notes of his song envelop him, but he doesn’t move. He stays, basking in the warmth, a sort of quiet acceptance, that seems to cradle his body as he sits.

Caressing the keys almost reverently, Yoongi makes a promise to himself. Rap and writing lyrics and music--these things make up the complex tapestry that is him and he will never let that go ever again. It’s his life to live, his destiny to choose, and he will not let anyone make that decision for him. Not even his parents.

And as he sits there, the boy with his piano welcoming the dawn, he feels the weight on his heart lift just a bit.

Yoongi is nineteen years old.

The rumble of the small bike he uses to make deliveries is the only thing keeping him awake as he drives to his next customer. He’s been pulling more all-nighters as he and the other guys work toward debut, writing songs and going over choreographies. It’s an endless loop of meetings and practices and Yoongi can feel the strain on his frayed nerves. He knows he’s been moodier with his members, too.

His members, he thinks wryly. It wasn’t exactly what he had imagined when he accepted his position at Big Hit but he figures it’s the only way to get what he wants. Music is more important to him than anything. If it requires him to play nice with others for the time being then he can do that.

Yoongi rolls to a stop at a traffic light and lets out a small sigh, foot coming down onto the pavement to steady himself. The roads are practically empty and it does nothing to quell the exhaustion weighing down his eyelids. It seems like no matter where he is, work will always be a constant in his life. He hadn’t even meant to get another job on top of his producer gig but he’d seen an ad looking for someone to make deliveries a few times a week. The pay was pretty decent and it would be a nice supplement to what he was receiving at Big Hit so he took it.

It was, however, coming back to bite him in the ass now that things are starting to pick up for them. Just a little longer, he figures. Once they debut, he’ll probably have to quit anyway so might as well enjoy the little extra paycheck for now. Yoongi taps his foot impatiently on the ground as he waits for the light to change, sighing in relief when bright green washes over him and signals him to go.

He’s not quite sure how it happens. He remembers picking his foot up off the ground as he releases the clutch, crossing over the line into the intersection. He thinks he recalls the distant sound of a horn blaring, of a bright light flashing, but that’s overshadowed by the sudden force pushing him onto the ground. His head cracks back against the pavement and thankfully his helmet bears the brunt of the impact but Yoongi still feels the sharp pressure against his skull, a dull ringing sounding in his ears.

Yoongi’s eyes had closed when he was thrown back and he pries them open, vision fuzzy and unfocused, only to be met with the daunting image of a car wheel right in his face. Belatedly, he registers the sound of a bone-chilling scream. He tries to turn his head to find the source of the sound but he realizes with haunting clarity that it’s coming from him.

Just as he makes the connection, Yoongi begins to hurt. White-hot pain radiates from his shoulder so potent it chokes him. He hears the sound of an engine revving and the wheel in front of his face starts to move away. It catches on his bike, sending it crashing into his shoulder, and another scream of agony scrapes his throat raw. Tears stream from his eyes, further obscuring his vision, but he can still make out the image of the car speeding away, tires screeching as exhaust spews from the pipe.

Yoongi is torn between the excruciating pain and the disbelief that someone just fucking hit him and drove off without even stepping out of the car. He wants to shout curses at the retreating vehicle but the throbbing in his shoulder has intensified even more, churning his stomach so violently it’s a wonder he doesn’t throw up right there.

Hours pass, it feels like, before a strange sort of numbness begins to filter through his limbs. His body is heavy, and his eyes can no longer hold themselves open. He’s not sure how long he lays there, disoriented and unable to move before someone takes notice of him but he thinks he hears someone frantically calling 911. Soon he hears the sharp siren of an ambulance, lights blinding Yoongi even as he teeters between consciousness and unconsciousness.

The ride to the hospital is a blur. The paramedics had tried talking to him but he was just so tired and everything hurt so bad he could hardly focus long enough to force his lips to form words much less complete sentences. They must hook him to an IV because he feels a sharp prick on the inside of his arm and suddenly his muscles relax. He knows he can’t sleep though so he fights to keep himself awake.

He barely registers arriving at the hospital, the jostling of the stretcher the only indication that he’s moving. A doctor asks one of the paramedics for the report and Yoongi only hears bits of the diagnosis. He knows his shoulder is fucked but the way they’re talking about it unnerves him. He’s anxious now, heart rate spiking as he thinks of the implications this could have on the group. His breathing stutters, sending a shooting pain through his ribs, and he can feel the beginnings of a panic attack tightening in his chest. This catches the attention of the doctor and nurses and they’re suddenly focused on him.

“Yoongi-ssi,” the doctor begins, voice soft and cajoling. He vaguely wonders how he knows his name but then figures the paramedics must have found his license. “You’ve had quite the accident. I know you must be in a lot of pain but is there someone we can call to stay with you and sign some papers?”

Yoongi stares unseeingly at the doctor’s face and really tries to get his voice to cooperate. He knows he can’t call his parents, not yet at least, so he says the first name that comes to mind.

“N-Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.” He rattles off what he hopes is his phone number before the effort becomes too great. He tries to fight it, he really does, but the events of the night begin to take its toll and his eyelids slip closed as he falls into the beckoning darkness.

When Yoongi comes to, he’s greeted with an annoying beeping somewhere off to his left. He squints, eyes blinking furiously to clear his vision from the blinding white of the hospital room. Moving to sit up, he winces and immediately stops trying to move. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck, which is not too far off, he thinks a little dryly.

A movement to his right makes him flick his gaze to the window where a figure he hadn’t noticed before jumps up from their position in a chair. It’s Namjoon.

“Hyung,” he cries, eyes wild as he practically sprints toward the bed. Yoongi would laugh if he weren’t sure he looked just as ridiculous. “What happened?”

Yoongi scoffs only to grimace when the small movement jerks his shoulder. “Oh, you know, just a casual Friday night.” He tries to joke but Namjoon just gives him a deadpan look so he clears his throat and looks away. “I was making deliveries and some asshole ran a light and hit me. Pretty sure they crushed my shoulder.”

Namjoon nods. He had heard as much from the doctor when he had come in. He seemed to be unimpressed with a barely legal kid coming as Yoongi’s “guardian” but Namjoon couldn’t have cared less in that moment.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Nah, the bastard sped off as soon as I went down.” Yoongi watches as Namjoon’s face drops in horror, head tipping back in disbelief.

“Goddammit.” He runs a tired hand through his hair before sliding it down his face.

“What time is it anyway?”

Namjoon glances at his watch. “Almost eight.”

Yoongi releases a breath. “Fuck. There goes morning practice.”

“Hyung.” Namjoon’s voice has deepened into his leader voice and Yoongi fights the urge to wince again. “Be serious.”

At his sides, Yoongi’s fists clench. “Does anyone else know?” He raises his gaze to look at the younger man. Namjoon shakes his head once, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Keep it that way.”

The leader balks at that. “What?!” he splutters. “You can’t be serious--”

“Joon.” Yoongi cuts him off with a look, voice softening into a desperate plea. “Please.”

This stops Namjoon short. Yoongi is so rarely vulnerable with him but they have been working and living together for two years now. They’re coworkers and, dare he think, friends. He doesn’t know the full story but he does know that Yoongi’s life has been anything but easy. He has his own reasons for doing the things he does and Namjoon has to understand and trust that Yoongi knows what he’s doing.

Although it goes against everything his mind is screaming at him, Namjoon nods at the elder. “Okay, hyung. I won’t say anything.”

Yoongi relaxes then, thankful that the younger has decided to trust him.

The next few hours pass relatively quickly. The doctor comes in shortly after their talk and gives Yoongi a run-down of his injuries. His shoulder is practically nonfunctional and he has to keep it wrapped and in a sling for at least six weeks, possibly longer. He doesn’t have a concussion, thank goodness, but the doctor reminds him to come back if he experiences bouts of nausea and recurring headaches. He looks reluctant to say so but he tentatively tells Yoongi that he can leave the hospital but he strongly recommends that he stay at least a few days. Yoongi immediately refuses.

They discuss proper care of Yoongi’s injuries before he’s finally released downstairs to fill out his discharge papers. Namjoon sticks close to his side, listening attentively to the doctor’s explanations and helping Yoongi fill out the papers he can’t quite lift his arm high enough to sign. His ears burn hotly with embarrassment but he’s thankful for Namjoon’s presence nonetheless.

The trip back to the dorm is silent but not uncomfortably so. They hail a taxi from the hospital entrance and Namjoon helps the older into the back seat, opening the door and steadying him as he sits. Yoongi wants to protest that he’s not an invalid but he sort of is. Also, try as he might, he can’t quite stop the swell of affection that overtakes him as the younger fusses over him so he sits back, silent.

Yoongi doesn’t bother to try and hide it from the others. Can’t, really, since they’re all sitting in the living room waiting for them as soon as they step through the doors. Seokjin is the first to reach them, brow furrowed in concern as he takes in Yoongi’s haggard appearance and his sling. He places a hand on his good shoulder, squeezing gently and moving to cup the side of his neck in a tender gesture, before murmuring something about making something for him to eat.

Jeongguk is next, doe eyes puffy and shining with tears, and he looks like he wants to launch himself at Yoongi but Hoseok has a strong grip on his forearm, other arm rubbing soothingly down his side. Yoongi reaches out and ruffles the youngest’s hair, lips quirked in a small smile to let him know that he’s alright. A small whimper escapes the boy but he valiantly keeps his tears at bay, returning a watery smile before retreating further into Hoseok’s hold. Hoseok looks deeply into his eyes, tense posture relaxing as he gives his hand a squeeze. Jimin and Taehyung stay back but look at him just as sadly as the others. Yoongi shakes his head and offers another smile he hopes is reassuring. He doesn’t think it works.

The boys fuss over Yoongi well into the night and he tells himself that he’s too tired to be annoyed at their coddling. Namjoon basically moves into his and Seokjin’s room, insisting that he help take care of his injuries as per the doctor’s instructions. Showering proves to be a challenge and it takes both Namjoon and Seokjin to help him undress and cover his cast so that it doesn’t get wet. Yoongi practically dies from the mortification but he’s grateful for the two of them.

Yoongi resumes their regular schedule of activities, much to the disapproval of the rest. He hides his sling and cast under massive t-shirts and jackets that swallow his slender frame whole. Dance practices are hard but he forges ahead, pushing his shoulder to limits he probably shouldn’t but it gets the job done and keeps the suspicious eyes off of him. He pays for it later, though, in the confines of his room after Namjoon and Seokjin have fallen asleep, when he has to muffle his sobs of agony against his good arm.

He likes to think he’s been managing fairly well all things considered but one practice tips him over the edge. It’s been three months since the accident and his shoulder has healed almost entirely but it still acts up every so often. This morning had been particularly rough and no amount of pain-killers had been able to take the edge off.

The choreographer had just left, leaving Hoseok in charge of the rest of practice. Yoongi sits heavily on the floor, chest heaving, and grabs his water bottle before guzzling the contents. They’ve been going at it for the better part of four hours now and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight.

“Hoseok-hyung,” Jeongguk pants, flicking his t-shirt against his body in an effort to cool down. “Can we take a break? Please?”

“Soon, Guk. I just want us to do a few more run-throughs before we call it a day.” Hoseok’s eyes don’t leave the mirror as he completes a step and repeats it again.

Jeongguk pouts but doesn’t protest further. Namjoon flickers his gaze over to Yoongi before heading over to Hoseok, clapping a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Hoseok-ah. Why don’t we take fifteen and recuperate a little. Then we’ll get back into it.” He sends a pointed glance to where Yoongi sits near their things and the elder man bristles slightly at that.

“Namjoon. It’s fine, let’s just keep going.” He tries not to snap but he knows it comes out far more bitter than he means.

“Hyung, I just think--”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi launches himself from the ground and takes his position in front of the mirror. “From the top.”

Namjoon and Hoseok share a look as the others stare in silence but Yoongi ignores them in favor of analyzing his form in the mirror. His shoulder throbs insistently.

“From the top,” Hoseok repeats lifelessly, and everyone falls into position.

They manage a few more rehearsals before Yoongi truly starts to feel the consequences. He’s sore and sweaty and his shoulder seems to have developed its own pulse, pounding painfully in time with the music. One move in particular sends a shooting pain down his arm so sharp he yelps in surprise, doubling over with the effort to breathe. The others are on him in an instant.

“Hyung, are you alright--”

“Yoongi-yah, why don’t you just sit--”

“Hyung, come on, let’s all just--”

“I said I’m fine!” Yoongi roars, irritation peaking. “Would everyone please just stop treating me like I’m made of fucking glass?”

No one answers, no one even dares to breathe. Five heads swivel to Namjoon who seems just about as bewildered about the outburst as everyone else.

Yoongi is breathing heavily now, part from pain and part from the force of his outrage. He knows he’s being irrational but he’s sick and tired of having them hover around him like he could collapse at any moment. He’s fine goddammit!

Another long moment passes and Yoongi can’t face them again, not when he feels so unstable. Frustration--at them, at no one, at himself--forms a heavy lump in his throat and he swallows thickly to dislodge it.

“I’m heading to the studio. Don’t wait up.” He grabs his bag and practically flies out the door, heading to the second floor. He flings his studio door open and quickly closes it behind him, breathing heavily.

His head falls into his hands before they move into his hair and tug harshly. Hot tears prick at his eyes and Yoongi can’t stop the anguished cry from leaving his lips as he crumples in on himself. He’s just so tired and stressed and in so much pain. He knows the others mean well but he hates this, hates being reminded that this only happened because of his stupidity. He was the one with the second job, he was the one who got in that stupid accident, he was the one who forced them to keep it a secret. It’s hard on everyone and Yoongi has no one to blame but himself.

He shouts in frustration, throwing his bag down harshly onto the ground. The action seems to awaken a deeper desire to destroy, to hurt just as he is, and before he can think through it, he’s overturning the small armchair and coffee table with a yell.

Red flashes behind his eyes and the emotions that have been simmering low in his stomach boil over, running hotly through his veins. Yoongi screams at the furniture as if they’re the cause of his suffering and he lands a violent kick to its surface, once, twice. His desk chair receives the same treatment and he turns to grab the baseball bat he keeps by the door. Stalking toward his electric piano, he raises the bat above his head to strike but he hesitates. Another harsh ripple of pain rushes through him and that’s all it takes.

Dropping the bat, Yoongi falls to his knees just as the first tears fall. He cries and cries, clutching his shoulder as if it were the only thing anchoring him. He can’t do this anymore, he can’t. He’s not cut out for performing or music or any of it.

Maybe his parents were right.

He stays there for a while, hiccuping in the silence of his studio. His breathing eventually slows but the heaviness in his heart remains. Looking up, Yoongi takes in the sight of his piano. It’s obviously different from the one he has at home but it’s still familiar, comforting. He rises slowly, taking care to mind his shoulder, and grabs the small bench from underneath the stand. Sitting, his body moves almost automatically into position. Yoongi’s shoulder twinges again but it’s more manageable this time. He takes a deep breath, centering himself, and plays.

He’s not sure what he’s playing, just letting his fingers glide across the keys as they see fit. He almost wishes he were recording himself so he could listen to it back but he doesn’t want to stop playing even for a moment to pull out his phone. So he doesn’t; just keeps playing. And playing. And playing.

It’s hours later when Yoongi finally stops. The last note lingers delicately in the air and he doesn’t breathe for fear of shattering the serenity that had settled around him. Only when it’s silent again does he exhale and he feels different. Still hurting, still heavy, but peaceful.

Sighing, he stands up from the piano and goes to right the furniture he upended during his tantrum. Once everything is back in order, he looks around the room until his gaze lands on the piano. It just stands there, unmoving, unchanging, just as it always has, and an unnamed emotion tightens in his chest. He lingers, letting the feeling seep into him until he’s filled with it. He closes his eyes.

Yoongi knows he can’t guarantee his future. Hell, he can’t even guarantee the next five minutes. But, he thinks, as he picks up his things and leaves the studio, sending one last glance at the instrument, perhaps that’s alright, as long as he has this.

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