#maybe focus on moving his other dirt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solelifauna · 3 months ago

Text

But You Belong to Me (You Belong to Me) - (Yandere Jason Todd x Reader) (Prologue Pt.1)

When (Y/n) (L/n), resident Gotham Prep scholarship student, meets the new son of Bruce Wayne, a friendship like no other is formed. However, maybe what she's feeling is more than just what friends feel for each other. It's too bad that she never gets the chance to tell him before he, Jason, her first real friend (and real love) meets his brutal demise at the hands of the Joker.

Three years later, she finds herself still acquainted with the Bat's nightlives, comfortable monitoring them from her seat in the Batcave. The scars of Jason's death still run deep, yet, just when life starts to become a little normal, a new crime lord pops up out of nowhere.

Insert The Red Hood and his duffle bag full of heads, and he's here to collect what he was promised long ago.

Heavy rain pelts down onto your frame, coveted in all black; what a bleak day it was, but you guessed the weather was befitting the occasion. There are three other people standing next to you also dressed in black. There was a hand on your shoulder (you don't know whose though, and you can't seem to care either), most likely in place to comfort you, or to try at least, but you couldn't focus on anything else but the too small coffin being lowered into the ground.

It was mahogany, a deep brown casket with gold details, something fancy. You knew if Jason were alive to see it, he'd hate it. He likes–liked red, he would have wanted a red one. But no, he was busy being lowered into the ground instead. Tears streamed down your face but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them. What good would it do you? It was raining anyway.

The funeral comes to a close, although you're not sure when (how) time passed so quickly, leaving Jason, your best friend, the boy you loved, buried six feet under. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you can do. You just stand there, unable to move. He's dead. He’s dead. You’ll never see him again, he’s dead. You'll never sit on the couch with him arguing over his book of the week, he’s dead. You'll never get to stay up and watch the stars with him, he’s dead. You'll never get to tell him how you really feel, he's dead.

It's only when Bruce, his father, gently tries to guide you to the car you came in, you break. You lash out, twisting away from his hand as you trip over yourself trying to get to Jason’s headstone. Bruce and Dick, Jason’s older brother, exclaim in surprise and then follow after you. You collapse on your knees near the freshly lain dirt, sobbing with your full chest.

You could hear Bruce and Dick stop a couple of feet away from you, unable to comfort you in their own grief. That was fine though, you're not sure what you'd say or do if they tried to. They let you have your time with him, knowing it was just as difficult for you as it was for them, but as time ticks by another hour has passed and you’re still kneeling by his grave, no longer crying, but still unmoving.

You stared blankly at his headstone, still trying to realize that he wasn't coming back. When you feel someone grab your shoulder this time, you know it's Alfred. And you know what he's going to say to you, the words you’ve been dreading to hear.

“It’s time to go Miss (Y/n).” Alfred says gently, his own voice filled with grief at the loss of his grandson.

You don't say anything, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfred only sighs, before taking his leave. Good. Nobody was taking you away from here. A couple more minutes pass when you hear another pair of footsteps headed towards you. Bruce.

“(Y/n),” Bruce calls softly, yet voice still rough and raw from his own sorrow, “It’s–It's time to go now sweetie.”

You don't even turn around from where you were sitting. “No.” You say firmly.

Bruce and Alfred exchange a look.

“Miss (Y/n),” Alfred starts, “ you’ve been sitting out in the rain all day. Wouldn't you like a change of–”

“No!” You shout out this time. You flinch back from the sound of your own voice, and you could tell Alfred and Bruce were taken aback by your behavior as well.

With a sigh, Bruce decides that he'd come get you himself, any longer out here and you'd be sick for a week. His hands come around to grab you, to pull you up and you scream, kicking and fighting your way out of his hold.

“No! No, I wont leave him! I'm not gonna leave him! Let me go!” You cry, banging your punny fists against Bruce’s chest. He doesn't even flinch, he just holds you and lets you cry, kick, and scream.

“Please let me go! He–he doesn't like being alone, I promised him–I promised I'd never let him be alone.” You cry out again, your voice fizzling into another sob as your fussing stops. You just stand there, slumping into Bruce’s arms, sobbing once more.

He doesn't say another word, he just brushes your tears away and leads you towards the limo where Dick was already situated. Alfred sits you down into the limo, making his way to the driver's seat. Bruce slides in next, eyes aghast and tired, clearly haunted by the loss of his youngest. Dick is turned away from the rest of you in a similar state. The car starts, heading towards the manor.

It was a silent and short ride over, nobody daring or having the strength to say anything. The vehicle comes to a stop, everyone numbly piling out the door and into the Manor. Dinner would be forgotten tonight as everyone went to their own respective places to continue grieving. Bruce, to the Batcave; Alfred, to the Library; Dick, to patrolling the streets of Gotham (knowing that if he stayed in the manor, he’d end up breaking something); and you, to Jason's room.

You crumpled onto the maroon carpet, gazing around his room, hoping that you'd see him pop up and tell you it was all a joke. But he wouldn't. You saw his mangled body. You knew that he was never coming back. What's even worse, is that you could still see Jason’s unfinished math homework lying on his desk, the paper slightly crumpled from when he would undoubtedly grip and erase out of frustration. Mrs. Delaurier’s algebra II homework would forever remain unfinished.

You promptly break into tears once more.

~~~~~~

(3 years earlier)

Chilly air swept through the halls of Gotham Prep, but you, (Y/n) (L/n), hardly noticed as you rushed to your next class. As a scholarship student among Gotham's elite, you had learned to keep your head down, focus on your studies, and ignore the gossip that buzzed in every corner of the prestigious school.

“Crap, crap, crap!” You huffed under your breath, picking up speed to reach your next class.

You were late, incredibly so by at least seven minutes. Sure, it isn't that crazy of an offense if you really think about it, but at Gotham Prep? As a scholarship student, you'd be crucified. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but still, the point was there. You’re forced to break out of your thoughts when the familiar door of Mrs. Banfield’s 7th grade English class comes into view.

Practically sliding into a halt, you nervously open the door, ready for the earful and cruel laughter you were sure to receive. You walk in, ready for the heat of Mrs. Banfield’s rage, only to find her standing at the front of the class, a boy with black hair standing right next to her. It seems you’ve actually interrupted her speaking, whoops. Everyone turns to you as you give your teacher a sheepish smile.

“Miss (L/n), so glad of you to finally join us.” She scorns, “Now please take a seat, we don't have time for dilly-dallying today.”

You just let out a meek “Yes ma’am.” and “Sorry ma’am.” as you take your seat near the windows. The desk pushed up next to you on your right remains empty, nobody in their right mind wants to sit next to the “charity case”. Well whatever, it was their loss anyway, you were awesome.

“Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Mrs. Banfield says giving you a pointed look. You just shrink back into your seat, “We have a new student joining us today, please welcome Jason Wayne-Todd.” She continues.

The class breaks out into excited clamor as everyone says their own rendition of a “welcome”. Of course, just what you needed, another stuck-up brat to put up with, and a Wayne too at that–god knows how far there's a stick shoved up his ass.

“Hello everyone, I'm glad to join y’all this school year.” Jason says, giving a nice wave to the class.

Others smile back, however, you could see their true intentions, they were only after his money and name. Your teacher says some more thing which you drown out, only to be pulled out of your day dream when you hear a mention of your name.

“Jason, your seat will be over there by (Y/n). (Y/n) please put your hand up!” She all but yells, glaring in your direction.

You tiredly put your hand up as Jason makes his way to you. He puts his backpack on the bag hook attached to the desk before sitting right next to you. He gives you a one off glance before he pulls out his notebook and turns his attention to the front. You glare at him.

‘How rude.’ You think to yourself, before you do the same show of pulling out your supplies. He didn't even bother talking to you, let alone acknowledge you. What a jerk.

You huffed quietly under your breath and focused on the lesson, but the boy sitting next to you lingered in your thoughts. So that was Jason Wayne-Todd—the son of Bruce Wayne. Another rich kid who’d probably never give you a second thought, just like everyone else at Gotham Prep. You convinced yourself that it didn’t matter. He was just another asshole.

But then, a few days later, everything changed.

It was lunch period, and as usual, you sat alone. Not that you minded, really. It was quieter that way, less drama to deal with. You had found a nice spot beneath a tree, away from the main courtyard, where you could enjoy your food in peace.

You were halfway through a sandwich when you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel. You glanced up and there he was again, Jason Todd. He stood there for a moment, looking at you like he was sizing you up. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something curious.

“You always sit alone?” he asked, his voice casual but direct.

You blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah. So?"

He shrugged and then, to your utter shock, sat down next to you without asking for permission. “Guess I’ll join you then.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what his angle was. Jason Todd didn’t seem like the type to care about someone like you—someone who wasn’t from the same world as the rest of these privileged kids. But there he was, sitting with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “I mean, don’t you have other people to sit with?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, popping open a juice box with a smirk. “Maybe. But they’re all boring and stuck up rich kids”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Aren't you a—how'd you put it? A boring, stuck-up rich kid too?” You say, quoting him.

He just looks into you with his blue eyes(Jesus, how were they so blue?), confusion swimming on his face.

“I'm adopted?” He says, all but a question. How did you not know that? It's like the only thing the news and everyone at school are talking about.

“Oh,” You blank, “but you look just like him?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot, it's kinda scary how similar we look.” Is all he says.

“So you’re not just some rich asshole with a stick up his ass?”

He stares at you, expression neutral before he erupts into laughter.

“No, no, god no! I'm from Crime Alley!” He exclaims through laughter.

Your jaw nearly drops at his words. Crime Alley? The notorious part of Gotham, where crime and poverty thrived like the weeds in the cracks of forgotten streets? Jason Todd, the new Wayne, adopted into Gotham’s wealthiest family, was from Crime Alley?

Jason noticed your reaction and grinned, amused at the disbelief on your face. “Yeah, don’t look so shocked. Not all of us were born into the lap of luxury,” he said, leaning back against the tree, his juice box still in hand.

You blinked, trying to process the unexpected revelation. “I didn’t realize,” you said, more quietly now. “I just assumed—”

“That I was like all the other rich kids?” he finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t be. I get it. It’s Gotham Prep—it’s all about money and status. But I’m not like them. Never will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel intrigued by him now. He wasn’t what you thought—far from it. There was depth to Jason, a complexity that set him apart from the rest of the students. Maybe that’s why he chose to sit with you, the ‘charity case.’ He didn’t fit in either.

“You’re not like them,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “Neither of us are.”

Jason’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he studied you for a moment. Then, he shrugged and took a sip of his juice. “Guess that makes us both the odd ones out.”

You shared a small smile with him, a strange warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you’d arrived at Gotham Prep, you didn’t feel so alone. Jason might’ve been the new kid, but somehow, sitting next to him, you felt a connection. Like he understood what it was like to be on the outside looking in.

And from that day on, Jason Todd became your closest friend. The two of you spent nearly every lunch together after that, sharing sandwiches and laughing at the ridiculousness of the rich kids around you. He introduced you to his world, the one he came from, telling you stories about life in Crime Alley that were equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.

He told you stories about Bruce Wayne, about how nice he was and about his brother Dick Grayson, who doesn't really like him that much. You frowned at that. How could anyone not like Jason? With his pretty blue eyes and warm smile, his rambunctious laughter and humor, his kindness and—What the hell was wrong with you?

Anyways, you in turn told him about your family. How you were an only child, how you used to have a pet dog named Pudgy, how both your parents worked all day and every day, leaving you with enormous amounts of free time. They weren't neglectful, or at least they weren't on purpose, but they needed to make money. Your family wasn't living in poverty, but you would be if your parents didn't take on the crazy hours they did.

So you understood. Sure it sucked, but what could you do? Besides, it wasn't all that terrible; when your parents did have free time you’d spend the day laughing in the kitchen with your mom or fixing something in the garage with your dad. You knew they loved you, and that was all that mattered.

Over time, Jason slowly introduced the idea of you hanging out at his house. The first time he asked, you refused, saying how you didn't want to intrude or be a bother (much to Jason’s dismay and Alfred’s amusement when Jason would complain about your stubborn behavior). But of course, there were only so many times you could refuse Jason's begging and puppy-dog eyes, and before you knew it, you were being picked up by Alfred Pennyworth in an expensive limo that you didn't even know the name of.

That first ride in the limo was surreal. You had tried to focus on anything but the fact that Alfred Pennyworth was sitting just a few feet away from you, his calm, dignified presence making the luxurious car feel even more intimidating. Your heart pounded in your chest as the car wove through Gotham’s bustling streets, and you found yourself fidgeting nervously with your hands.

“Are you all right, Miss (L/n)?” Alfred asked, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.

You startled at the sound of his voice, managing a small, sheepish smile. “Y-Yeah, I’m just not used to all this. I’ve never been in a limo before.”

Alfred’s expression softened, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I assure you, Master Jason and Master Bruce will be pleased to have you. No need to be nervous.”

But how could you not be nervous? You were about to step foot inside Wayne Manor. The home of Gotham’s most powerful, wealthy family.

What if you broke something?

What if Bruce didn't like you?

What if he doesn't like you so much that he tells Jason he can't be your friend anymore? Your thoughts continue to devolve into frantic “what ifs” as the drive continues.

When the car finally pulled up to the massive iron gates, your stomach twisted into knots. You stared out the window as the gates opened slowly, revealing a grand driveway that led up to the imposing structure of Wayne Manor itself. It was bigger than you’d imagined—an intimidating, sprawling mansion that looked more like a castle than a home.

You swallowed hard. Jason lived here?

Alfred parked the limo and got out to open your door. You stepped out slowly, feeling incredibly small as you gazed up at the manor. Before you could fully comprehend your surroundings, the front doors of the manor burst open, and there he was, Jason, running toward you with that infectious grin on his face.

“You finally made it!” Jason called out, his voice filled with excitement as he approached. He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the house, practically dragging you up the steps. “Come on, I’ve got so much to show you.”

“Jason, slow down!” you laughed, feeling your nerves start to ease a little in the face of his enthusiasm. He always had a way of making you feel comfortable, even in situations as intimidating as this.

As you crossed the threshold into Wayne Manor, you were struck by just how massive it was inside. The ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly above you, the halls adorned with intricate chandeliers and elegant artwork. It was the epitome of wealth and luxury, but it didn’t feel cold or lifeless. There was warmth here, in the way the soft light filtered through the grand windows, and in the way Jason moved through the space like it was his own.

“Whoa,” you breathed out as you took it all in. “This place is huge.”

Jason laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit much, huh? I didn’t know what to do with myself when I first got here. But you get used to it. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

You let him lead you through the grand corridors, trying to keep your awe in check. As you passed by one of the doors, you spotted a tall, dark-haired man walking by—Bruce Wayne himself. Your eyes widened, and you froze for a moment.

Bruce glanced your way and offered a small, warm smile. “You must be (Y/n) (L/n),” He says, reaching his hand out for a handshake. You nervously reach out and shake his hand. “ Jason’s talked a lot about you.”

You blinked, stunned. “H-He has?”

Bruce nodded, his expression becoming one of amusement as Jason blubbered behind you. “Oh yes, he never really stops actually. So it’s nice to finally meet the person who–”

“Okay! That's enough dad, we’ll see you later!”

You could see a tint of red on Jason's cheeks, clearly embarrassed by his dad, as he dragged you towards his room.

Finally, you reached Jason’s room. It was more modest compared to the rest of the house, filled with a mix of personal items that spoke to his life before and after Wayne Manor. Posters of action movies and comic books adorned the walls, and his bed was piled high with mismatched pillows and blankets. It wasn’t neat, but it was cozy. It felt like him—chaotic, comfortable, and completely unpretentious.

“Welcome to my domain,” Jason announced with a grin, flopping onto his bed and patting the space beside him.

You sat down next to him, finally letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The day continues like it was normal, with you and Jason playing games of hide-and-seek, tag (much to Alfred’s displeasure), and some video games in the playroom. The day comes to a close as Jason drags you down for dinner, saying how “There's no better cooking than what Alfie makes.”

You’re bound to disagree until you take your first bite of food. You turn to Jason, fork halfway in your mouth, with a look of pure bliss in your eyes. He meets your gaze with a smudge expression of “I told you so.” Bruce just watches fondly, glad that Jason is adjusting and glad that he has a friend he is comfortable with. You were a sweet girl, Bruce concurred, and with what Jason told him about your family’s situation, he was more than happy to have you around.

Soon, you were parting ways with the Waynes for the night, Jason giving you a big hug whilst Bruce relayed to you that you were welcome over any time. On the drive back to your house, Alfred tells you how thankful he was that someone “as kind” and “lovely” as you had come into Jason's life. A blush blooms on your face as you squeak out an embarrassed “No problem Mr. Pennyworth.”

The months continue on as you and Jason head into 8th grade, finally having more classes together in your schedules. The days were seemingly normal as you continued to spend time at Wayne manor, now becoming more comfortable with Bruce and Alfred; you spend time in the ginormous library as Jason helps you with your English homework and you help him with math or simply chill in Jason's room or by the pool.

Things take a weird turn one day when Jason comes to school more tired than usual. He looks like he's been run ragged, a couple of purple bruises on his arms. You worriedly fret over him as he laughs saying he just fell down the stairs. Your jaw drops as you turn on him for being so stupid.

However, the bruises never stop. But that's not the only new thing, Jason looks bigger. He's got new muscles and everything and he's also gained more inches over you. As much as his new physique makes you blush, it worries you that he continues to come to school for the next three months, tired and aching, continually avoiding all your questions and being secretive. You hate to admit that his secrecy hurts more than you wanted to realize.

In the far back of your mind, your suspicions lead to Bruce. You liked Bruce, he was fun, he was nice, and you really couldn't imagine him doing something like this to Jason. He loved Jason. So, you let the thought fade. You knew Bruce would rather kill himself than ever lay a hand on Jason. But still, something was going on. Not long after, big news spread through Gotham. Headlines like “Return of Robin!” or “Batman’s New Sidekick!” are all the rage. You never cared much for the vigilante stuff, but even you had to admit Batman was cool, but his new Robin? Well–

Jason casually brings it up on day during one of your regular dinners. You’re busy shoveling noodles into your mouth when Jason asks you something.

“So (Y/n), I never really got to ask, but who's your favorite superhero?”

Unbeknownst to you, Bruce and Alfred share a knowing look before turning their attention to you. Yes, Bruce was curious too.

You think for a minute before coming up with your answer.

“Hmmm, if i had to pick, I’d say Batman.”

Bruce grins in a silent victory whilst Jason scowls.

“What!? Why him?!” He all but yells.

“Well don't you think it's cool that he still fights even though he has no powers? Plus, he dresses up as a bat, I like bats, they’re cute.” You say.

Bruce just lets out a small, thoughtful “huh” as he continues eating.

“But seriously, Batman??” Jason questions incredulously.

“Well, if you want me to be completely honest, Batman isn't my actual favorite. My real favorite superhero, well, everyone says that he doesn't count ‘cause he's a sidekick, so.”

“Well pray tell, who is your real favorite Miss (Y/n)?” Alfred now asks as he picks up some empty dishes.

“It's Robin of course!” You say smiling. Jason proceeds to spit out his water and Bruce chuckles.

You glance worriedly at Jason.

“Are you alright Jay?”

“Y–yup! Now what was that about m–Robin?”

“Oh yeah, he's super cool bro! He fights side by side with Batman, and he took down Ivy all by himself, and he’s super cute too.” You gush, unable to help yourself.

Jason’s face bursts into red as he stammers about how he's suddenly full. Bruce continues to smile like a cat that just caught a canary.

After you head home, Bruce continues to tease Jason, resulting in a multitude of pillows being thrown at Bruce's face.

~~~~~~

You only come to discover Jason's secret about five months later, completely by accident by the way. It was a school event, a student showcase. The halls of the venue were filled with kiosks and booths where parents could see and celebrate the accomplishments of their children. Yet again, you found yourself at your section alone, standing in front of a painting you had made.

It had won second place, a blue ribbon tapped to its side and you were so proud of yourself. You knew your parents were too, they had told you themselves, but unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to make it. That's okay though, you knew they were working their tails off so that they could provide for you. A missed school showcase was the last thing they needed to worry or feel guilty about. Besides, it wasn't like you’d be completely alone, Jason, Bruce, and Alfred would be here soon.

With that, you continued thanking the random people who congratulated you on your placement, waiting for Jason and his family to show up. Of course, that's when disaster struck. An explosion goes off in the cafeteria as you get thrown back from its force. Your ears ring as you hear muffled screaming and cries, smoke making your vision blurry with tears.

You cough, trying to pick yourself off of the ground, a burning pain shooting through your leg as you do so. You sluggishly look down (god your head hurts) only to be met with blood all over your right leg. Jesus, that was a lot of blood. So much in fact, you couldn't even really make out what your injury looked like.

Tears flow down your face at the pain. God, everything hurt, but you needed to get out of here. Wait–oh no, Jason! You didn't know where he was! You pray that he was still on the way over when the explosions went off. With a sharp cry, you begin limping towards an exit, trying to stay conscious and on your feet with all the chaos going on around you. People push and shove, trying to get out but you just grit your teeth and fight to stay standing because you knew that if you went down, you weren't too sure if you'd be able to get back up.

Through the cacophony of screams and explosions, you realize that a fight is happening. You see the familiar figures of Batman and Robin battling with the ever terrifying Joker. Another explosion rocked the venue, shaking you out of your thoughts as debris fell around you. You barely managed to avoid a chunk of falling concrete, throwing yourself against the nearest wall, the pain in your leg intensifying as you cried out. You needed to get out of here.

You try to move, you really do, but you can't get your leg to work. You collapse near a wall, clutching your leg in pain trying to get the bleeding to stop. Someone help me. Someone–anyone.

You’re crying now, your sobs being buried under the chaos of the battle. You sit there for god knows how long, praying that it ends, the screaming, the explosions, the carnage. You want it all to stop. And it does. The Joker is caught and shipped off to Arkham Asylum as Batman, Robin, the police, and paramedics start sweeping through the rubble. However, right now, there's only one thing running through Robin’s mind.

He has your location pulled up, thank god he gave you that bracelet with a tracker. He knew it’d lead him to you, you always wore it. He could hear Batman telling him to slow down but he couldn't bother to listen. He has to find you.

When he does, his heart breaks. You were curled up against a crumbling wall, hands and legs covered in blood as tears marred your now grime and dust ridden face. His mind went blank, panic rising in his chest as he sprinted toward you, the world around him fading into background noise. Nothing else mattered right now—only you.

He fell to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as they hovered over your body, unsure where to touch, where to help without hurting you more. You blinked up at him, eyes unfocused and wet with tears.

“Robin…” Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but the relief in your tone was unmistakable. You reached out, your hand trembling as it found his.

“My friend…I have a friend, Jason–Jason Todd. Find him please–he's still out–” You’re unable to finish as you break out into a coughing fit.

Jason’s heart stopped at the sound of his own name leaving your lips. Here you were, injured and bleeding, worrying about someone else. His chest tightened as he watched you struggle, your blood-stained hand trembling in his grasp, pleading for help that he had already given. He wanted to tell you—needed to tell you—but now wasn’t the time.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking despite the mask. “I’m right here.”

You blinked through the haze of pain, your brow furrowing in confusion. “No... I meant Jason, he—he’s still out there—”

Wait a minute, that voice–you knew that voice. You’ve heard it a thousand times, every day. Jason. That was Jason's voice. You don't care if you were probably concussed, you knew his voice.

“J–Jay?” You slurred out, trying to get closer to him. Robin freezes, Jason freezes. You recognized him.

[All right folks, that's it for part 1 of the prologue. I hope you guys enjoyed it, expect part 2 soon! I want to preface two things though: 1.) The reader is not adopted/going to be adopted by Bruce 2.) The 2nd part of the prologue will still be taking place as a flashback. You won't get into the actual main plot till chapter 1.]

764 notes · View notes

minuino · 2 months ago

Text

SAFE WITH YOU

pro hero bakugo x fem!reader ꕀ angst to fluff ⸝⸝ bakugo returns home injured, and his girlfriend tends to him while expressing her concern. 1.1k words. established relationship / injury recovery

the news blares through the living room, every word sharpening your focus as you sit cross-legged on the couch. the anchor’s voice, sharp and urgent, recounts the aftermath of the villain attack. you’re perched on the edge of the couch, the remote clutched tightly in your hands as you stare at the screen, your anxiety growing.

“Dynamight and his team have successfully neutralized the threat downtown,” the reporter announces, and your chest tightens as the camera cuts to the scene. and then, there he is. Katsuki stands amidst the destruction, his hero costume barely holding together. his sleeves are ripped clean off, revealing bloody scrapes and bruises along his arms, and his pants have a jagged tear exposing a gash on his leg. dirt streaks across his face, his spiky blond hair disheveled and coated in ash. the weight of the battle is evident, but he looks tired. his eyes are half-lidded, his mouth slightly open as he takes in deep breaths, his chest rising and falling with each one. his focus is unwavering—until the reporters begin crowding around him, bombarding him with questions.

“Is the situation over? Are we all safe now?” one of them asks.

his eyes snap open slightly, and in an instant, his tough persona is back, his guard rising as he forces his usual glare. his posture straightens, and he inhales sharply, as if to hold onto his strength for just a little longer.

“Yeah, it’s done. It was nothing," he growls, his voice low and rough. “The bastard wasn’t even that tough. Don’t panic, and stay the hell home where it’s safe. We’ve got this handled.”

he turns and walks away, but you know better. you’ve seen him push through tough moments before, but even now, he exudes confidence. he always does, but you catch it—the way he shifts his weight ever so slightly to his uninjured leg, the fleeting grimace that flickers across his face before his scowl returns.

the broadcast moves on, interviewing the other heroes on the scene, but you’ve already tuned it out. pacing the room, you glance at the clock, your heart thrumming with anticipation. the tension in your chest doesn’t ease, even as the clock ticks closer to the time he usually comes home. when the front door finally creaks open, your heart lurches.

“Katsuki?” he steps inside, his boots dragging against the floor. his usual commanding presence feels dimmed, his shoulders slouched in a way that immediately sets you on edge. he mutters a quiet “Hey” and trudges to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. you follow him quickly, your worry evident in your voice.

“Katsuki, what happened? You’re hurt.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles, leaning back and shutting his eyes as if that could dismiss your concern.

“It’s not fine,” you snap, crouching beside him to get a better look. “You’re bleeding, for god’s sake. Don’t try to act like this is nothing.” he grits his teeth but doesn’t fight you as you grab the first aid kit. his silence speaks volumes.

as you return to his side, you notice the way his hands are balled into fists, his jaw tight with pain.

“Sit up,” you command gently, and though he groans in protest, he does as you ask. you settle beside him and start cleaning the gash on his arm. he flinches at the first touch of antiseptic.

“Damn it, that stings!”

“Good,” you bite back, your tone sharper than you intend. “Maybe next time you’ll stop acting like you’re made of steel.” he huffs, but there’s no real bite to it. you focus on the task, your hands steady despite the emotions churning inside you.

“This is why I tell you to be careful,” you say quietly, your voice cracking slightly. “You get so careless sometimes. I get worried that one day you’re not going to make it home, that you’re going to be caught underneath all that debris and—” “That’s not gonna happen,” he interrupts, his voice firm but softened by a rare gentleness. his crimson eyes meet yours, and the weight of his gaze is almost too much to bear. “I’m not that dumb, alright? I’ll always come home to you. So don’t worry so much, okay?” your breath hitches, and you press your lips together to keep them from trembling.

“I can’t help it,” you murmur, focusing on wrapping his arm with a bandage. “I don’t care how strong you are, Katsuki. You’re not invincible, and the thought of losing you—”

“You won’t,” he cuts in, his voice quieter now. he reaches for your hand, his grip firm but reassuring. “I mean it. I’m too damn stubborn to go down like that.”

the corners of your mouth tug upward, but the lump in your throat doesn’t ease. you move on to the scrape on his knee, carefully cleaning and bandaging it while he watches you in silence. when you’re finally done, you sit back and exhale a shaky breath.

“There. All patched up.”

he leans his head back against the couch, his eyes closed, but you can see the tension starting to leave his body. the sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so human—makes your heart ache. without thinking, you reach out and brush a hand through his unruly hair, brushing away the bits of dirt and soot still clinging to it. his eyes flutter open, and for a moment, he just stares at you, the fiery resolve in his gaze replaced by something softer.

“You’re such a pain,” he mutters, but there’s no venom in his words.

“And you’re impossible,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck. the sudden intimacy makes your cheeks flush, but you don’t pull away. instead, you let your fingers trace soothing circles along his back, feeling the tension melt away beneath your touch.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Always,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

the two of you stay like that for a while, the weight of the day slowly fading as his breathing evens out. for all his strength and bravado, it’s moments like this that remind you just how much he lets you in—how much he trusts you to hold him together when the world threatens to tear him apart. and though you still worry, you know one thing for certain: no matter what, you’ll always be there to patch him up and remind him that even heroes need someone to come home to.

a.n — thank you for taking the time to read my second fanfic ! this was my first time ever writing angst to fluff, so i hope i wrote it well enough for you all. I just wanted to write a bittersweet story forgive me LOLOL (*/ω＼). but how did i do? please tell me ! until next time, thank you again for reading XOXO 💕

488 notes · View notes

undreaming-fanfiction · 11 months ago

Text

I don't even have a clear storyline in mind for this, but I just really, really want to see a modern AU with Eddie as a detective who investigates the Harrington Pharma company. The company is huge and looks clean on paper, but Eddie has a nose for these things, he knows something is wrong. He knows that Richard Harrington ran some sketchy trials and some of Wayne's friends have lifelong health issues, Chief Jim Hopper included.

The company looks almost impenetrable, but Eddie digs. No detail is too small for him. He crosses paths with the owner's son and a board member, Steve Harrington. Eddie despises him. A fucking rich kid, making millions out of other people's misery. His public appearances are well rehearsed, but Eddie knows his type. A shallow, pretty partying douchebag who hasn't had to work a single day in his life. His PR manager Robin Buckley seems way too decent to work with such a bunch of assholes, but Eddie's seen what money can do to people. Either way she's corrupt too.

He meets the younger Harrington several times. The handsome young man is not openly hostile, but he's condescending, bitchy and he looks at Eddie as if he were dirt. "Good luck with your efforts," he sneers when he sees Eddie digging through the public records of Harrington Pharma. "But maybe get a real hobby instead? I hear golf is nice." Eddie wants to murder him.

Eddie cooperates with an investigative journalist, Nancy Wheeler, who keeps all her cards close to her chest, but she still points him in the right direction several times. He collects evidence, partners up with the public prosecutor Joyce Byers. He even meets her son, Jonathan, who is able to get the most damning photographic evidence. No one fully trusts each other, but that's okay. Harrington Pharma is their shared enemy and that's enough.

One day, Eddie makes a mistake. He sneaks into the Harrington Pharma archives and miscalculates the guard shifts. He's stuck hiding under an old desk for hours, he's slowly losing hope, he has no way to contact anyone, his legs are cramping and he's exhausted, but then he hears a familiar voice talking with the guard.

"Hi, Tommy. All good? How's Carol and the kids? That's wonderful to hear. I just need to verify some records for dad, it's not a big deal. Have you had your smoke break yet? You can go, stretch your legs. I'll be here for at least half an hour."

Shit. It's Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie tries to stay still and will his muscles to cooperate, and he thinks he's doing a great job, but then-

"You can come out now. He's gone."

Eddie freezes. How the fuck does he know?

Harrington's voice is quiet, urgent. "Damn it, Munson! You have ten minutes tops before he comes back, so stop playing hide and seek with me!"

He manages to get back on his feet, uncertain and wobbly, and when he sees Harrington leaning over the desk, he's half ready for a fight. But the other man doesn't make a move, doesn't call out to anyone. He just hands Eddie a folder, some of them are the files he selected, but some are new. "I added a few that you missed," hisses Harrington and leans into the corridor. "I'll go first, get Tommy to focus somewhere else. You run to the right and pray to anyone willing to listen. And most importantly," he says, and shit, Steve Harrington can sound serious if he wants to!, "I never saw you here. You heard me come in, used the opportunity and bolted. Clear?"

Eddie just nods. He watches as Steve extends his arm, probably grabbing Tommy by the shoulders and leading him to the other end of the building, he sneaks as far as he can and then he madly dashes for the hole in the fence he made earlier.

The files are it. With all the evidence Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie collected, Joyce can finally take that dark empire down. Eddie is there every day, watches the trial, but then he hears that there are two witnesses for the prosecution from inside the company itself.

It's Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

He sees Steve give him a wink from the stand and he wants to kiss the man. Eddie hears all of it in the following days - how Steve used to date Nancy Wheeler, but then her best friend Barb Holland died due to a mishandled drug trial for her condition by Harrington Pharma. How Nancy broke up with Steve, but even with no chance of rekindling their relationship, he vowed to stop his father for good. How he worked in the company for years, climbed the ladder, managed to make enough connections to get his friend Robin Buckley the position of a PR manager. How she helped him to keep up the charade until the very end.

When the Harrington empire finally falls, Eddie watches quietly as Steve embraces Nancy, whispering to her that she did so well, that Barb would be proud. "We finally did it, Nance. We're finally free."

And then, before Eddie can disappear, Harrington is walking towards him, the mask finally off. He looks younger now, his smile is genuine and Eddie can't help it, his traitorous heart is telling him that this is the single part of the Harrington case he'll never leave behind.

"Hi," says Steve. "I...uh. I just wanted to say sorry for all the nasty things I said before. I had to for my cover, but...I just want you to know, I really appreciate what you did."

Eddie just stares at him, blush forming on his cheeks and a crush blooming in his heart. "I'm pretty sure I just butchered your career," he mutters. "And you're thanking me?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean. I'm out of job, I'm a known whistleblower now and my dad's lawyers will probably try to sue me. So that's not great. But if you want to ease your conscience...take me out for a coffee?" Another wink, another squeeze around Eddie's heart.

Eddie fakes a deep sigh and takes Steve by the elbow. "I don't think a single coffee is going to get rid of all my guilt, but it's a start. Maybe a lunch tomorrow would help my healing process?"

Laughing, Steve nudges his side. "Anything for your peace of mind, Eddie."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie au #steddie #detective au #joyce byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

1K notes · View notes

littlelamy · 17 days ago

Note

An au request idea I can't get out of my head......Rafe is a cowboy and does rodeo shows with bulls and has just started dating Reader, On their first date, he takes her to his stables where he has a fake saddled tied up to mimick being pulled and dragged around (so he can practice). Rafe helps her up on it for fun but realises he has made a mistake when he starts having dirty thoughts from how sexual it looks and tries to be a gentlemen, being super awkward barley holding it together while she's shy and obvlivous

parings: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: none

rafe adjusted his hat, a grin playing at his lips as he led you down the dirt path toward the stables. his boots kicked up little clouds of dust with every step, the quiet hum of the countryside wrapping around the two of you like a comforting embrace.

you’d been seeing each other for a few weeks now, and this was your first proper date. rafe had been eager to show you his world, the place that meant everything to him. his excitement was infectious as he talked about the bulls, the rodeo shows, and his life as a cowboy.

“you ever been around bulls before?” he asked, glancing at you with those piercing blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

you shook your head, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “never been this close. it’s a little intimidating.”

“don’t worry,” he reassured you, his hand brushing lightly against yours. “i’ll keep you safe.”

when you reached the stables, the scent of hay and leather filled the air. rafe led you inside, pointing out the different stalls, the various equipment he used for training. your eyes widened as you took it all in, fascinated by the glimpse into his world.

then he stopped in front of a contraption that looked like a bull, but made of leather and wood, with a saddle strapped on top. it was rigged up to ropes and pulleys, clearly a practice setup.

“this here’s for training,” rafe explained, a hint of pride in his voice. “helps me get used to the movements, stay in shape for the real thing.”

you tilted your head, curious. “so you just…ride that?”

he chuckled, the sound warm and rich. “yeah, pretty much. want to give it a try?”

your eyes widened. “me? oh, I don’t know…”

“it’s safe, i promise,” rafe said, holding out a hand. “i’ll be right here the whole time.”

your heart pounded as you took his hand, letting him help you up onto the makeshift bull. his hands were strong and steady as they guided you, making sure you were comfortable. once you were seated, he stood back, watching you with an almost boyish excitement.

but then something shifted.

as you adjusted in the saddle, leaning forward slightly, rafe's breath hitched. the way your hips moved, the curve of your body as you tried to balance—it sent a jolt straight through him. you shifted your weight to get comfortable, causing your chest to bounce slightly with the movement, your breasts rising and falling in a way that rafe couldn't ignore.

he swallowed hard, his eyes fixated on the subtle motion. the gentle sway of your body, the way your thighs gripped the saddle—it was all too much. the way your shirt clung to you, outlining your curves, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you laughed—it all burned into his mind. he cursed himself silently, trying to push the images away.

“this isn’t so bad,” you said, oblivious to the effect you were having on him.

“uh…yeah,” rafe stammered, his usual confidence slipping. he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to focus on anything but the way your body moved so naturally, so sensually on the saddle. “you’re a natural.”

you giggled, shifting again, bouncing lightly to test the movement of the saddle. the slight jiggle of your breasts with each bounce had rafe's jaw tightening, his jeans suddenly feeling a little too snug. he took a step back, his hands twitching at his sides as he fought to maintain his composure.

“maybe…uh, maybe that’s enough for now,” he said, his voice a little strained. “don’t want you to get too sore.”

you frowned slightly, confused by his sudden change in tone. “oh, okay. did I do something wrong?”

“no, no,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “you were perfect. just…you know, safety first.”

he helped you down, his hands lingering a moment longer than necessary on your waist before he let go. as you landed on your feet, you stumbled slightly, pressing against his chest. the warmth of your body against his, the softness of your curves pressed into him—it was nearly his undoing. he sucked in a breath, stepping back to create some distance.

as the two of you walked back toward the house, your hips swayed naturally with each step, and rafe found himself trailing just a bit behind, his eyes betraying him as they followed the movement. every step, every sway—it all stirred something primal in him. he clenched his fists, trying to focus on anything but the growing tension in his body.

“you okay?” you asked, glancing back at him, a hint of concern in your eyes.

“yeah,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “just...thinking about what to eat.”

you nodded, your shy smile returning. “i’m fine with anything.”

rafe's eyes lingered on your lips as you spoke, imagining the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. he shook his head slightly, trying to shake the thoughts away, but they clung to him like the scent of hay in the stables.

rafe felt the tension between you grow. every glance, every accidental touch seemed to spark something deeper. and as you walked side by side, he knew it was only a matter of time before his restraint snapped, and he’d show you just how wild you made him feel.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @heywardsdoll

240 notes · View notes

simp4wom3n · 1 year ago

Text

Why Don't I Know You?

Requested: Yes/No ~ How about Regina having a crush on the reader but not saying anything bc she thinks the reader won't like her, but when the reader starts talking to her and everything, Regina is suddenly possessive ykwis

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Summary: Shocked when a face she doesn't recognise shows up in her class, Regina makes it her goal to learn everything about them, even if it leads to her gaining a massive crush. ~ Word Count: 4.1k ~ Warnings: lotta swearing, one slur, otherwise mainly fluff

A/N: HI!!! FIRST RENEE/REGINA FIC!!! she is criminally underwritten, so I thought I would do my part (other people pls do right for her I need stuff to read). I love her so so much, and I had a blast writing this, so pls enjoy <3 + I will be creating a Renee rapp taglist so comment or message me if you wanna be on it :)

The halls of North Shore High were like a second home to Regina. Some would call it her hunting ground. Each year, she relished her opportunity to prowl the hallways, hunting the new freshman as she committed every new face and name to mind, with the intention of digging up all the dirt she possibly could. With thanks to Gretchen, she knew everything about everyone.

But then there was you.

"Alright, we have a new student joining us today."

Regina's eyes widened in pure shock as you walked into the room. With your bag casually slung over your shoulder, you make a beeline for the empty tables surrounding Regina. Ignoring the intensity of her gaze, you drop your bag and settle into the chair next to her. The faint strains of music emanated from the headphones hanging from your ears as you began organizing your belongings, only to be interrupted by the teacher.

"Y/n, if you could please stand and introduce yourself."

Your eyes flicked nervously towards the teacher, and the entire class turned to look at you. The intensity of Regina's gaze made your cheeks glow with a faint red before you sighed dejectedly and reluctantly stood up, pulling out your headphones.

"Um... Hi, I'm Y/n... not really much else to say."

The teacher nodded at you before turning around to start the lesson. Watching as you sat down, Regina's focus shifted entirely to you.

She couldn't tell whether it was because she knew nothing about you, or that you were just so damn hot.

Maybe it was both.

As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Regina wasted no time storming off to find Gretchen. Having watched you for the entirety of the class, she was desperate to find out everything about you.

Strutting through the packed hallway, everyone staring at her in fear, Regina locked onto her target as she came into her view. "Gretchen!" she called irritatedly. The small girl quickly turned around as her eyes widened in fear. "Tell me... How is it that I don't know anything about this new Junior, Y/n? Why wasn't I informed? I need all the details now!"

Gretchen, scrambling to keep up with Regina's relentless pace, stammered out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, Regina! I didn't even know they were coming."

"God, you are useless!"

In only a week, not only had watching you become her routine, but she had even started to develop a crush on you, as painful as that was for her to admit.

She was supposed to be chased, not the one chasing.

Seeing you had become the favourite part of her day, even above having the whole school bow at her feet. She hadn't even talked to you. She just watched.

She meticulously studied your every move, subconsciously committing all of your subtle mannerisms to memory. Like the way you would take notes, or the way you would nibble at your fingers when you were focused. Or her personal favourite, when you knawed at the end of your pencil when you were nervous or stressed.

Fuck, she wishes she was that pencil.

She hated to admit it, but the thought of talking to you terrified her. Her usually overbearing confidence drained away whenever you sat in the chair next to her, your mysterious yet comforting presence causing her to malfunction.

And yet, as she sat at lunch with Gretchen and Karen, she refused to mutter a word about you to them. The furthest they pushed was when Gretchen asked about you after catching Regina staring at you, and the look Regina gave the poor girl made her shut up immediately.

The lunch tables were packed as usual, but Regina's eyes scanned the hallway beside them. She was well aware that you never sat at any of the tables, so she patiently waited for you to return to your locker, which was conveniently placed within sight of her table.

Karen and Gretchen's incessant babbling went unnoticed as you finally appeared. She couldn't help but notice your slouched posture and sluggish movements. You looked exhausted. Your headphones, which you always had on you, dangled from one ear as you forcefully opened your locker.

As if she wasn't already concerned, the table of varsity jocks had also noticed you, taking your clearly irritated mood as a green light to push even more of your buttons. From across the room, Regina watched with a clenched jaw as three of them stood from the table and made their way towards you.

Her body ached with anger as she watched them grab you by the shoulder and throw you against the lockers. Your exhausted expression turned to one of fear as they held you up against the cold metal doors. The guy forcefully snatched your headphones away, callously tossing them to the ground and obliterating them with a single forceful step.

Regina choked on a gasp. She knew how much you loved those headphones.

She was annoyingly out of earshot as she watched them continue to laugh at and berate you whilst shaking you against the lockers. Her blood was boiling. The others had noticed her expression and cast confused glances towards the commotion, which only confused them more.

The Regina they knew would be laughing.

After Regina's next victims finally let you go, your body shook as you realised that the whole school had just watched you get shamelessly belittled. As soon as your gaze locked with Regina's, your embarrassment grew unbearable, triggering you to hastily get your belongings before moving to make a swift escape.

The last Regina saw of you, you were frantically running away, desperately trying to hide your state as tears streamed down your face.

Those jocks had no idea what was coming for them.

The next time she laid eyes on you was the week after. She had already exacted her revenge on the jocks, having called their parents and telling them they all had STDs, yet when she caught sight of your weary expression as you entered the classroom, the familiar sense of triumph eluded her.

As the lesson passed and the teacher blabbered about a new group project, Regina's eyes never left you as you buried yourself in your notebook.

"Ok, listening, please." the teacher announced, garnering both of your attention. "The groups are as follows," you patiently waited for your name to be read out so you could go back to absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your book, whilst Regina similarly waited to hear the name of the poor soul who would be stuck with her. Yet, to her surprise, she wasn't disgusted by the name read beside hers.

"Y/n and Regina,"

With eyes wide and fixed on the teacher, Regina failed to notice the sudden blush that crept onto your cheeks, causing you to quickly lower your head. "You have the rest of the lesson to plan." the teacher mumbled before returning to their desk, where they sat silently.

Neither of you moved. After a second of secretly hoping Regina would make her move, you figured she wasn't interested in you or the project. Opening your computer and immediately diving into research, Regina sat at her desk, trying to build the courage to talk to you.

God, she hated being a coward.

After a few minutes and a few internal pep talks, she decided to take her one excuse to talk to you as she finally scooted her desk towards yours and turned to face you. As she inched closer, your heart began to race, sensing her gaze fixed on you. With a bashful smile, you diverted your attention from your screen and finally made eye contact with her.

She was breathtaking.

Clearing your throat, you quickly turned back to your computer as you scratched the back of your neck. "I-I'll just do it all when I get home," you spoke nervously, presuming THE Regina George would want nothing to do with you or the project.

"What makes you think I'd make you do it alone," she retorts, her tone more flirtatious than she had intended, but she wasn't mad about it. You looked back at her, lost for words for a second as you tried to scramble together a response.

"Well... I-I just presumed you wouldn't want to help." A small smile formed on her lips as you briefly glanced at her, "I mean, you hardly pay attention, so I just... figured." She softly giggles at your words, her laughter sending a flutter of excitement through your body.

Little did you know she was distracted by you.

"Come to mine later. We can do it together." Regina's unexpected display of confidence caught both of you off guard as her usual flirtatious demeanour made a comeback. Meanwhile, you stared at her in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. "Ugh... Yeah, sure, if that's ok?"

"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't"

As the school bell rang through the corridors, you were overwhelmed with both relief and anxiety. After enduring a tedious day at school, you were now faced with the terrifying task of not only talking to Regina but also spending hours alone with her at her house.

Walking out the doors and towards the car park, the sound of the bustling school fading into the background, your eyes catch a familiar blonde leaning up against her Jeep. Your heart began to race faster as you approached her, your bag feeling heavier with each step.

Her expression softened as she noticed you approaching, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she pushed herself off her car. "Hey," she greets softly, a soft shade of pink painting her cheeks as you both smile at each other. "Hi," you said breathlessly with a small chuckle.

Without another word, Regina moves to get in, and you follow suit, chucking your bag into the backseat next to hers before climbing into the passenger seat.

The breeze gently tousled your hair as you drove to her house, the soothing tunes of music filling the air, matching the nervous excitement between you both. Your heart beat along with the music as you snuck glances at the girl sitting next to you. With her eyes focused on the road and the wind softly brushing her skin, you were utterly mesmerised by her.

Of course, you had heard of Regina George's horror stories, but this girl was different.

Sure, you hadn't spoken till this morning, but there was something about her you couldn't quite describe. Something that brought you to school every day, comforting you as you sat in undoubtedly one of the most boring classes, and that gave life at North Shore High purpose.

Frankly, you rejected any idea of her being a heartless bitch.

When you eventually turned into her driveway, your gaze was forced away from her as you caught sight of her house, or should you say mansion. The house was almost cinematic in grandeur, your eyes growing wider by the second as you drove closer before eventually stopping at the door.

"Wow," you mumbled under your breath as you exited her car, your eyes not leaving the building as you reached for your bag. You heard Regina chuckle lightly as she led the way to her door. "My mum's not home, thank god, so we have the place to ourselves."

You nod mindlessly as you follow her through the front door. As you trailed behind her, the pristine marble floors beneath your feet echoed with each step, a stark contrast to the scuffed linoleum of the school corridors.

Just when you thought you had gotten used to it, Regina led you to her room. Stepping inside, you find yourself mesmerised by everything around you. "This is your bedroom?" you asked, clearly taken aback. Regina glanced back at you, a shy smile on her face.

"Yeah, It was my parents, but I asked them to trade me." "Right...". You couldn't help but be captivated by the array of decorations adorning the walls, taking in the posters and photos that offered a rare glimpse into her life beyond her reign as the queen of North Shore.

Sitting on her bed and removing her shoes, she motions for you to do the same. Dropping your bag next to her massive bed and grabbing everything you need, you carefully sit down next to her, leaving enough room between the two of you so you don't seem invasive.

Opening your laptop and notebook, you place them on the bed as you pull up the project materials. You can feel Regina's gaze on you even though she's trying to be subtle, and the thought instantly makes your cheeks glow softly.

"So, uh, where do you want to start?"

The next few hours flew by as you worked on the project together. Regina was surprisingly helpful, the two of you moving closer as your work drew to a close. Now that the project was over, the familiar awkwardness lingered in the air as you searched for something to talk about that wouldn't embarrass you.

"You're really good at drawing, you know." Regina compliments softly, pointing at your notebook margins before you can say anything as you blush at her words. "Thanks... I've been doing it more since-" "Your headphones broke." Regina cuts you off as you look at her surprised.

"Yeah... How did you know that?" It was Regina's turn to blush as she realised that she had just revealed herself. Stammering to find an excuse, she looks away for a second, embarrassed. "I-I'm just a very observant person."

You look at her suspiciously with a small smile gracing your lips, the thought of Regina watching you making your heart flutter.

"You're different." you find yourself blurting out, "from how everyone else describes you, I mean." you finish quickly. Regina chuckles as she smiles at you softly. "You're different too. Good different. I like it."

The tension between you grew as you stared into each other's eyes. A softness behind her pale blue eyes drew you in, and before you knew it, you were slowly leaning in. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you caught Regina glancing down at your lips, her own caught between her teeth as your faces grew closer.

"Regina, honey!" You scramble backwards as Regina's bedroom door flies open, revealing who you believe to be her mum. "Oh. Hi there!" "Mum, seriously!?" Regina yells in disbelief. Your ears begin to ring as your head pounds, thinking about what would have happened if you had not been interrupted.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realise you had anyone over." While Regina's mother was apologising, you could hear Regina sighing in frustration next to you. "I'll just go to the kitchen." Her mum suggests as she begins to leave the room, but you beat her to it. "No, Ms George, it's okay. I was on my way out anyway." You offer her a smile you hope appears as genuine as you quickly throw everything into your bag.

Trying to ignore Regina's pained gaze, you threw your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your shoes, and quickly exited her bedroom, making your way out the front door. You had no plan on how to get home, but you would rather walk than have to sit in that room after what had happened.

Walking into school the next day was like walking straight into a nightmare. You already weren't fond of the school, having been called slurs and made fun of constantly, but adding to that, your usual excitement of seeing Regina had been replaced with pure fear.

In just one night, you managed to spin every interaction you ever had with the girl, leaving you incredibly embarrassed about how you had let it all happen. Who were you to think Regina might actually like you? You were probably just a pawn in some big game.

Unlocking your locker and throwing it open, already fed up with the day before it had even begun, you began to unpack your stuff, completely ignorant of the approaching jock.

Walking into school with a similarly distraught look, Regina's mind was stuck reeling over the events from last night. The question of why you ran away was all she could think about until she heard a sharp bang.

Before you could react, you were once again thrown against the lockers, an irritated grunt leaving your lips. Your eyes met the same bastard who had made bullying you their new hobby. "Back for more, dyke?" he taunted you, your fists clenching involuntarily as you awaited the verbal abuse he was undoubtedly about to unleash on you.

Regina's head immediately whipped in its direction, a new sense of anger rushing through her body as she saw your saddened figure being pinned up against the lockers. Without hesitation, she storms towards the jock holding you against the wall with a fire burning behind her eyes.

"Fuck off, asshole!"

The boy's expression quickly shifted, causing him to release his grip on you and hastily retreat in terror. You sighed in relief as you observed Regina approaching you, her face contorted with unmistakable rage.

You found it quite amusing how scary everyone found her, causing the boy who had just been full of confidence to shrink into insignificance, like a tiny ant that she was about to step on.

"Look in her direction again, and it won't just be STDs next time."

The boy's face flashed in realisation before hurriedly scrambling off. All eyes were fixed on you as Regina directed her gaze towards you, her expression instantly softening with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you ok?" you managed a nod as the softness of her voice filled you with a comforting warmth.

"Yeah… Thanks," you replied softly, your familiar awkward energy filling the air. She watched you momentarily as you remained silent, hopeful that you would acknowledge her. Yet, as you continued to avert your gaze away from her, she gave you a soft nod before turning to leave. Her stomach sank as the failing state of your relationship grew more and more obvious.

With an unfamiliar burn of tears behind her eyes, her pace quickened as she tried to get as far away from you as she possibly could.

But you stopped her.

"Regina, wait!"

Looking over her shoulder and meeting your sorry gaze, her heart can't help but flutter as she watches you slowly jog after her. "Sorry, I-" you hesitated, feeling a surge of nerves as you came the closest you had been to Regina since yesterday. "Did you want to maybe... hang out at yours after school again?"

"Didn't we finish the project?" She seems confused, completely missing that you wanted to spend time together outside what was needed. "No, we did. I just thought we could, you know, just watch a movie or something, but if you're not into that-"

"I would love to." She interrupts your anxious babbling with a gentle laugh, her gaze filled with admiration as you stare at her in a state of surprise and joy. "Meet me at the same place, ok?" "Yeah". Regina walks away from you with a smirk as you stand there frozen.

Holy shit, you just asked Regina George out.

The trip to Regina's after the bell finally rang was much like the day before.

She waited for you by her car, dismissing her other friends when she spotted you. Greeting each other warmly before jumping in the car, you once again listened to music whilst the wind swept through your hair, a nervous yet warm sense of anticipation falling between you.

Pulling up to her house, which you were still in awe of, you jumped out of the car and walked towards the front door behind Regina. "This time, my mum actually isn't home and won't be. I made sure of it. So we really do have the place all to ourselves."

You both laughed at her words as a small blush crept onto your cheeks. You walked behind Regina as she entered her bedroom, studying the now familiar walls as she set up everything you needed to watch a movie.

After sitting on her bed with the TV switched on and Netflix loaded up, you still remained standing in her doorway, nibbling on your pencil, which you always kept stowed away in your pocket, causing her to glance at you with a puzzled expression. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft yet discerning.

Snapping back into reality, offering her a sheepish smile, you replied, "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess." taking the pencil from your lips, you slowly moved towards her bed, your eyes subconsciously scanning every inch of her body, your mind going wild seeing her so comfortable.

Her gaze fixated on you, her piercing blue eyes captivating in the sunlight pouring through the window. She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a pleasant melody. "Lost in thought or thoughts of me?"

The comment caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I… um, what makes you say that?". Regina, who reclined into her bed, gestured towards your hand, occupied by a chewed-up pencil.

"You always chew on that when you're nervous," she spoke softly. Your eyes widened in astonishment as the familiar burn returned to your cheeks. "How do you know that?" She smirked, "I notice everything." Regina's gaze never wavered as she continued watching you, a playful glint in her eyes.

"So, what's got you so nervous, Y/n?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as Regina's question hung in the air, filling the lavish room with tension. You couldn't help but fidget with your pencil, trying to find the right words to capture the overwhelming mix of emotions that Regina's presence constantly stirred within you.

"I, uh… it's just… everything, I guess. School, people, this…" You gestured vaguely between the two of you, unable to articulate the chaotic mess of feelings inside. Regina leaned up, her voice softening. "Well, you don't have to be nervous around me." Her eyes locked onto yours, a sincerity beneath the confident facade. "Now sit."

Slipping your shoes off and sitting on the bed, you move closer to Regina, who is lying against her pillows, her gaze unwavering. Eventually settling next to her, you turn to look at her, your heart fluttering as her soft eyes meet yours.

The room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy, and all you could hear was the sound of your shared breaths. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, watching Regina's eyes analyse your face. A blush painted her cheeks, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Regina seemed hesitant, her mouth opening as if searching for the right words. "You know, I've been infatuated with you ever since you first walked into class." Your heart did a somersault at her words. A dreamy smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and disbelief.

"Regina George. Infatuated with me?" you teased playfully, her confession coursing adrenaline through your veins. With a gentle laugh, she hides her face briefly behind her hand before looking back at you, matching your wide smile.

"Shut up."

Leaning towards you, Regina's hands delicately wrapped around your neck, a slight shiver travelling down your spine. The room appeared to tighten as Regina held you, her touch confident and gentle. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving Regina's as she closed the distance.

Time seemed to stand still as her lips met yours.

The touch of her lips against yours was gentle, her hands brushing your neck with a mix of desire and passion. Everything else faded away as you fell into the kiss.

Her breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own. The room seemed to buzz with an electrifying charge, and the only sounds that reached your ears were the shared breaths between you two.

As Regina pulled away, a shared moment of breathless silence hung in the air. Once buzzing with unspoken energy, the room was now filled with the soft sounds of your intertwined breaths. Regina's cheeks were tinted with a deeper blush, and a subtle smirk played on her lips.

Your mind still reeling from the feeling of her lips on hers, you speak with a breathless chuckle, "What's everyone else gonna think?". Regina smirked at your question, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled you back in, mumbling her response on your lips.

"Let them talk."

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega @thenextdawn @wol-fica

#renee rapp x reader #regina george x reader #regina george x you #renee rapp #renee rapp imagine #regina george #mean girls musical #mean girls 2024 #simp4wom3n

2K notes · View notes

pinkmoontaco · 29 days ago

Text

Melodies of Us || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Woozi x Pianist Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance, Childhood crush Summary: 'Melodies of Us' follows Woozi, a seventeen member, a music producer, and Y/N, a pianist, as they reconnect after years apart. Despite facing public scrutiny and the pressures of fame, their love grows stronger. After a brief separation to navigate the challenges of their careers, they reunite, learning to trust and support each other through the highs and lows, with music always being the backdrop of their shared journey. Authors note: Hi everyone! I’ve poured my heart into writing this story, inspired by the Woozi video one of you recommended. Your love and support mean the world to me, so please give it a lot of love and share your thoughts in the comments. Your feedback truly inspires me to keep creating and improving. I’d love to know what you think and hear your favorite moments from the story! Love you guys!!!

Shoutout to @am-injel for recommending the video

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

The small music room at the edge of the middle school was a hidden corner where Jihoon often escaped. It wasn’t because he was shy—though he wasn’t the loudest kid in the class—but because he liked the calmness. Playing the piano, even just practicing scales, was his way of unwinding.

One afternoon, as he pushed the door open, he paused. Someone was already there.

It was Y/N.

She sat on the wobbly piano bench, poking at the keys in a rhythm that sounded more like an experiment than a song. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up, her bag on the floor, and her focus entirely on the instrument. Jihoon recognized her immediately—she was a year ahead, a popular "noona" everyone seemed to know.

“Noona?” Jihoon said hesitantly.

Y/N turned, surprised. “Oh! I didn’t know anyone else came here.”

Y/N tilted her head, “You know, I’ve seen you around. You’re Jihoon, right? The guy who’s always with his guitar.”

He nodded, surprised she even remembered his name. “Yeah… That’s me.”

Jihoon hesitated. “It’s usually empty.” He stepped inside, looking at her curiously. “Do you play?”

“Not really,” Y/N admitted with a small laugh. “I just wanted to try it. But…” She pressed a few keys randomly. “I don’t think I’m any good.”

Jihoon moved closer, his fingers twitching with the urge to correct her posture. “You’re pressing too hard,” he said. “Here.”

Without waiting for permission, he leaned down slightly, guiding her fingers to the correct placement. Y/N followed his instruction, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Like this?” she asked.

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah, noona. That’s better.”

She grinned at him. “You’re good at this, Jihoon. Do you come here often?”

“Almost every day,” he said quietly, still a bit shy under her bright gaze.

“Then maybe you can teach me?” she asked, her voice teasing but warm.

He blinked, caught off guard. “Uh... if you want.”

A few weeks later, Jihoon was standing on the baseball field, glove in hand.

Jihoon caught a glimpse of Y/N standing near the sidelines. She wasn’t supposed to be there—it was a middle school practice, after all—but she was watching him, waving with a wide smile.

“Noona’s here?” Jihoon muttered under his breath, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Let’s go, Jihoon!” Y/N called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Show them what you’ve got!”

The teasing tone in her voice made him blush, with her watching, he couldn’t afford to mess up.

The game was intense, and Jihoon did his best to focus, blocking out the awkward feeling of Y/N watching him. He managed to catch the ball each time, despite his initial hesitation.

When practice ended, Jihoon walked over to her, brushing dirt off his uniform. “What are you doing here, noona?”

“I was curious,” she said with a shrug. “And I wanted to see you play.”

“Me?” Jihoon asked, surprised.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t know you were this good at baseball too.” Her grin was wide and sincere.

Jihoon scratched the back of his neck, feeling warmth creep up his face. “I’m not that good...”

“You are,” Y/N said, leaning forward slightly. “You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

That evening, as Jihoon walked home, he couldn’t stop replaying the sound of her laughter and the way she’d called his name from the sidelines. For a boy who kept most things to himself, her presence was like a bright light in his quiet world.

And though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he hoped Y/N would show up again—at the piano, at the field, or anywhere else he could catch her smile.

A few days after the baseball game, Jihoon returned to the music room after school. He expected the usual silence, but when he opened the door, Y/N was already there. She sat on the piano bench, her fingers lightly brushing the keys, as if she were waiting for him.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, surprised. “You’re here again?”

Y/N looked up, her smile brightening the room. “Of course! I figured my teacher might show up, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to learn.”

Jihoon flushed. “I’m not your teacher…”

“Sure you are,” she teased, patting the bench beside her. “Come on. Show me something new.”

He hesitated before sitting down, careful to leave a bit of space between them. “Did you practice what I showed you last time?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, though the sheepish look on her face told him otherwise. “Kind of? But I think I need a lot more practice. You’re way better at this.”

Jihoon chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Okay, noona. Let’s try again.”

As he guided her through the basics, he couldn’t help but notice how close they were. Her laughter filled the room whenever she hit the wrong key, and her determination to get it right made him smile. She wasn’t like anyone he’d met before—confident yet patient, teasing yet kind.

A week later, Y/N showed up at another one of Jihoon’s baseball practices.

“Are you going to be at every game now?” Jihoon asked as he approached her during a water break.

“Maybe,” she said with a playful shrug. “I like watching you play. It’s fun seeing you so focused.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Noona, you’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job,” Y/N said, grinning.

Jihoon glanced at his teammates, who were watching the interaction with curious smirks. He could already hear the teasing they’d throw at him later, but for some reason, he didn’t mind.

“Fine,” Jihoon said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But don’t cheer too loud next time.”

“No promises,” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

As spring turned into summer, Y/N and Jihoon began spending more time together. She would wait for him after practice, chatting about her day as they walked home. Sometimes, they stopped by the corner store to share ice cream, sitting on the curb as the sun dipped below the horizon.

One evening, after a particularly long practice, Jihoon and Y/N sat on the school steps, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink.

“Jihoon,” Y/N said suddenly, her voice softer than usual.

“Hmm?” he murmured, resting his chin on his knees.

“Do you ever think about what you want to do when you grow up?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe something with music. Or baseball. I haven’t really decided.”

She smiled, tilting her head to look at him. “I think you’ll be great at whatever you choose. You’re the kind of person who works hard for what they want.”

Jihoon turned his head, surprised by her words. “You really think so?”

“Of course,” she said, bumping his shoulder lightly with hers. “You’re pretty amazing, Jihoon.”

His face grew warm, and he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “Thanks, noona.”

As they sat there in the fading light, Jihoon realized something: he didn’t just enjoy spending time with Y/N—he looked forward to it. Her presence made the quiet moments brighter and the loud ones more bearable.

Summer break had arrived, and with it came long, lazy days and the warmth of the sun. Jihoon thought it would mean fewer chances to see Y/N, but she surprised him one morning by showing up at the school baseball field during practice.

“Noona, don’t you have anything better to do?” Jihoon called out as she leaned against the fence, waving at him.

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I’m on summer break too, you know. And besides…” She grinned. “You’re the most entertaining thing around here.”

Jihoon shook his head, turning back to the field. He tried to focus on practice, but he could feel her eyes on him the whole time. When the coach finally called for a break, Jihoon jogged over to where she was sitting on the bleachers.

“Did you come all the way here just to watch me?” he asked, catching his breath.

“Maybe,” Y/N teased, holding up a bottle of water. “Here, you look like you need this.”

“Thanks,” Jihoon said, taking it. He hesitated before adding, “You didn’t have to come, though.”

“I wanted to,” she said simply, her tone sincere.

Jihoon didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t used to people going out of their way for him.

Later that week, Y/N invited Jihoon to join her at the park. It was a warm afternoon, and they found a spot under the shade of a large tree. Y/N had brought a picnic blanket and snacks, and Jihoon had brought his baseball glove, just in case.

“Noona, you really don’t get tired of hanging out with me?” Jihoon asked as he tossed a baseball into the air and caught it.

“Nope,” she said, lying on her back and looking up at the sky. “Why? Are you tired of me?”

“No!” Jihoon blurted out, sitting up straighter. “I mean… no, I’m not.”

Y/N laughed, sitting up and leaning her chin on her knees. “You’re fun to be around, Jihoon. Even if you’re quiet.”

“I’m not that fun,” he muttered, looking down at the ball in his hands.

“You don’t see it, do you?” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re hardworking, talented, and you care about the things that matter to you. That’s why I like spending time with you.”

Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at her, her expression warm and sincere, and felt the familiar flutter in his chest.

“Thanks, noona,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied, smiling brightly.

As the summer days passed, Jihoon found himself growing more and more comfortable around Y/N. She became a constant presence in his life, showing up to his practices, sharing snacks at the park, and even challenging him to board games at her house.

But one evening, as they sat on the swings at the park, Jihoon couldn’t keep the question inside anymore.

“Noona,” he began, his voice hesitant.

“Yeah?” Y/N replied, gently swaying back and forth.

“Why do you spend so much time with me?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the ground.

She stopped swinging and looked at him, her expression thoughtful. “Because I like being around you, Jihoon. You’re different from everyone else. You’re honest, and you make me feel… calm.”

“Calm?” Jihoon repeated, finally looking up at her.

“Yeah,” she said with a soft laugh. “Like I can just be myself when I’m with you. No pretending, no pressure. Just… me.”

Jihoon didn’t know what to say to that. His chest felt tight, and his hands gripped the chains of the swing a little harder.

“You’re special to me, Jihoon,” Y/N added, her voice gentle.

Jihoon’s breath caught. He wanted to say something back, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he nodded, hoping she could see how much her words meant to him.

That night, as Jihoon lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he thought about Y/N’s smile, her laughter, and the way she made the world feel just a little bit brighter.

For the first time, he let himself admit what he’d been feeling all along.

He liked her.

The news came unexpectedly.

Jihoon had always been good at music and baseball, but he never thought those talents would lead to something bigger. So when a company scout came to his school after hearing about his musical abilities and offered him a chance to audition as a trainee, Jihoon was stunned.

“Seoul?” he repeated, sitting across from his parents at the dinner table. “They want me to move to Seoul?”

His mother nodded, her expression a mix of pride and worry. “It’s a big opportunity, Jihoon. But it’s also a big decision. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Jihoon hesitated. He thought about his small town, his school, his friends. And then, he thought about Y/N.

“I’ll think about it,” he said quietly, retreating to his room.

The next day, Jihoon found himself in the music room after school, nervously tapping his fingers against the piano keys. He had texted Y/N to meet him there, and now he was waiting, unsure of how to tell her.

When Y/N walked in, she immediately noticed his tense posture. “Jihoon, what’s wrong?”

He looked up, his heart sinking at the concern in her eyes. “Noona, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay,” she said, sitting down beside him on the bench. “What is it?”

“I got an offer,” Jihoon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “To go to Seoul. To become a trainee at a company.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What? Jihoon, that’s amazing!”

He glanced at her, surprised. “You think so?”

“Of course!” she said, grabbing his hand without thinking. “This is huge, Jihoon. You’re so talented. They’d be lucky to have you.”

“But…” Jihoon hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “It means I’d have to leave. I wouldn’t be here anymore.”

Y/N’s excitement faltered, and for a moment, there was silence.

“When would you leave?” she asked softly.

“Next month,” he admitted. “If I decide to go.”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “Jihoon, I won’t lie—it’ll be hard not having you here. But this is your dream, isn’t it?”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “I think so. But I don’t want to leave you, noona.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced a smile. “Jihoon, you can’t let that stop you. You’re going to do amazing things, and I’ll always be here cheering for you, no matter where you are.”

He looked up at her, his eyes glistening. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, holding out her pinky.

Jihoon hesitated before linking his pinky with hers. “I’ll miss you, noona.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she said softly.

The day Jihoon left for Seoul was bittersweet. His parents dropped him off at the train station, and Y/N was there, standing a little apart from the crowd.

Jihoon walked over to her, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Noona,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Jihoon,” she replied, her smile wavering.

For a moment, they just stood there, neither wanting to say goodbye. Finally, Y/N reached out and pulled him into a hug.

“Work hard,” she whispered. “And don’t forget to eat. You’re terrible at remembering that.”

Jihoon chuckled, though it sounded more like a sob. “I won’t forget.”

She pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re going to be great, Jihoon. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, noona,” he said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat.

As the train pulled into the station, Jihoon reluctantly let go of her and stepped onto the platform. He turned back one last time, waving as the train doors closed.

Y/N waved back, her smile bright even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

In Seoul, Jihoon threw himself into training. The days were long, the competition fierce, and the pressure overwhelming. But every time he felt like giving up, he thought about Y/N’s smile, her encouragement, and the promise they had made.

He worked harder, knowing she was rooting for him from afar.

Years passed, and Jihoon’s dream of becoming a successful musician became a reality. After years of hard training, countless auditions, and endless performances, he had finally made it. As a member of the group that was taking the world by storm, his name was now known, his face recognized, and his music appreciated.

But despite the fame and the accolades, something was missing.

It had been years since he last saw Y/N. The memory of her smile, the sound of her laughter, and the warmth of her words always lingered in his mind. And so, one cold winter evening, Jihoon made a decision.

He would go back to his hometown, the place where it all began—the place where he had first met Y/N, the place that felt both familiar and distant now.

Jihoon stood in front of his old school, the place where he had once walked the halls as a shy, aspiring student. The building was quieter now, its paint chipped, and the playground that once hosted their after-school games seemed smaller than he remembered. But everything still felt... comforting.

He walked through the gates, a rush of memories flooding his mind. He could almost hear the sound of the baseball hitting the bat, the feel of the piano keys beneath his fingers. And then, he remembered Y/N.

He thought he would find her here, that she might still be in this place, still waiting to see him, just like he had always imagined.

With each step, his heart beat faster, hope rising in his chest. Maybe she was still living in the same neighborhood, or perhaps she had stayed in touch with some of their old friends.

But when he asked around, no one seemed to know where she was.

“I think she moved a while ago,” one of his old classmates said when Jihoon mentioned Y/N. “She went to college in Seoul, and after that, I’m not sure.”

Jihoon’s heart sank. He had hoped, even just for a moment, that he would find her here, in the place where it all started. He wandered around the familiar streets, searching for any trace of her.

But there was nothing.

The next day, Jihoon stood in front of the old piano at his middle school, his fingers lightly brushing the keys. The room was empty now, no longer the sanctuary it once was. It felt so different without Y/N’s presence, without her laughter echoing through the space.

“I thought I would find you here,” Jihoon whispered to no one in particular, his voice lost in the quiet of the room.

He closed his eyes, thinking back to those days when everything was simpler, when Y/N had been the one person who had made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the world.

He never expected fame to come so quickly, or for it to be so isolating. But as he stood in that quiet music room, Jihoon realized something: No matter how much time passed, no matter how many accomplishments he achieved, there was one thing he could never replace.

The feeling of being understood.

The warmth of her presence.

He missed her more than he had ever realized.

The following days were a blur. Jihoon returned to Seoul, unable to shake the emptiness that lingered in his chest. He threw himself into his work, but it was harder than ever to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the girl he had left behind—the girl who had believed in him before anyone else had.

He wondered if she still thought about him.

Did she remember their pinky promise?

The thought that maybe she had forgotten him haunted him, but he couldn’t let go of the hope that their paths might cross again one day.

Months later, Jihoon was at a variety show, doing an interview with his members. They were talking about their past, their training days, and their dreams. When it came time for Jihoon to answer a question, the host asked, “Jihoon, you’ve come a long way from your hometown. Is there anyone there you still keep in touch with?”

Jihoon paused, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t really talked about Y/N in years. His throat tightened as he thought about her.

“I… I had a friend,” he began, his voice soft. “She was someone who really believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. She was always there, even when I didn’t realize it.”

The other members looked at him curiously, but Jihoon didn’t continue. He didn’t need to explain everything. His mind had already drifted back to that quiet music room, the park, the baseball field—every place where Y/N had once been.

He smiled, even though there was a bittersweet ache in his chest. He might not have found her in his hometown, but he knew that no matter where she was now, she would always be a part of who he had become.

Months had passed the group’s schedule was packed, but one evening, Jihoon’s mind was still on the past as he attended a musical performance with Hoshi.

It had been an impromptu decision—Hoshi had mentioned wanting to go see a musical, and Jihoon, needing a break from his usual routine, agreed to tag along. It wasn’t something he had planned on, but he thought a night out might give him a chance to clear his mind.

The theater was elegant, the grand chandelier casting soft light over the crowded room as they found their seats. Jihoon’s thoughts wandered during the first act, but something shifted when the curtain rose for the second.

On stage, bathed in a spotlight, sat a familiar figure—her fingers dancing over the keys of a grand piano. It was a moment of pure magic, the soft music filling the room and touching something deep within Jihoon’s heart. He blinked, certain that his mind was playing tricks on him.

But when she turned slightly, her face illuminated by the stage lights, Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat.

It was Y/N.

He sat there, frozen, his breath catching in his chest. She was performing, and she was incredible. Her fingers moved with such grace, every note she played perfectly in sync with the orchestra behind her. It was clear she had been practicing, honing her skill all these years.

Hoshi nudged him with a grin. “Jihoon, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jihoon barely heard him. His eyes were locked on Y/N, who was lost in her music, oblivious to the audience. The whole room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of the piano and the girl he had once known.

After the performance, Jihoon couldn’t sit still. He had to see her, talk to her, just to know that she was real, that she was still out there, living her dream.

As the crowd began to disperse, Jihoon and Hoshi made their way backstage, where they were told to wait for the performers. Jihoon paced nervously, unsure of what to say. What if Y/N had changed? What if she didn’t remember him?

But when the door opened and Y/N stepped into view, her face lit up with recognition.

“Jihoon?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with disbelief.

Jihoon’s heart thudded in his chest. “Noona… it’s really you.”

Y/N’s eyes searched his face, a small smile slowly forming as she took a step closer. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Jihoon. I thought you were busy with… well, everything you’ve been doing.”

“I… I didn’t expect to see you either,” Jihoon admitted, his voice shaky. “I had no idea you were a pianist in a musical now.”

Y/N laughed, the sound so familiar that it felt like a weight lifting off Jihoon’s shoulders. “I’ve been busy too, you know? After college, I decided to pursue music full-time. This is where I ended up.”

Jihoon smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “You’re amazing, noona. I didn’t know you were this talented.”

Her cheeks flushed a little, and she looked away modestly. “Thanks, Jihoon. But what about you? Look at you now. I saw your performance on TV. You’re incredible. You’ve really made it.”

Jihoon shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to her praise. “I guess so. But I’ve been thinking about you a lot. About… us.”

Y/N’s smile faded a little as she looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “Jihoon…”

He swallowed, nervous. “I went back to our hometown a while ago, hoping to find you. I kept asking around, but… no one knew where you were. I thought maybe you had moved on, or that I had forgotten you…”

Y/N shook her head, her hand gently reaching for his. “I never forgot you, Jihoon. I always wondered what happened to you. But I guess I just thought you were too busy to even remember me.”

Jihoon’s chest tightened at her words. “Noona, I never forgot you. I could never forget you.”

There was a long pause as they both stood there, the years of silence between them suddenly feeling very heavy. But as Jihoon looked into her eyes, he realized that despite everything that had changed, some things remained the same. The bond they shared, the connection they had, it was still there, still burning bright beneath the surface.

“I was hoping… maybe we could catch up?" Jihoon said.

Y/N smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up. “I’d like that. I’ve missed you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s heart raced as he nodded. “I’ve missed you too, noona.”

Over the next few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N reconnected. They spent time reminiscing about their school days, about the late-night talks, the shared dreams, and the small moments that had meant so much.

Y/N told Jihoon about her journey into music, about how she had struggled and worked her way up to become a pianist in the musical. Jihoon shared his own story, about the hardships of being a trainee, the sacrifices he had made, and the loneliness that often came with fame.

Through it all, they never once lost the connection they had.

One evening, after another performance, Jihoon walked Y/N back to her apartment. As they stood outside the door, Jihoon hesitated before speaking.

“Noona…” he began, his voice tentative.

Y/N looked at him, her gaze soft. “What is it, Jihoon?”

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know this—” He took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I want you to be a part of it. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart fluttering in her chest. She smiled, her hand gently resting on his. “You won’t lose me, Jihoon.”

Weeks passed since Jihoon and Y/N reconnected. Their lives had been different since their youth, but some things never changed—the way they talked for hours without getting bored, the way they understood each other without needing to say much. The connection they once shared had only grown stronger, and now that they were both pursuing their dreams, it felt like fate had brought them back together.

One day, Jihoon invited Y/N to visit his studio. It had been a while since they had spent time in private, just the two of them.

Y/N arrived in the afternoon, and as soon as she stepped into the studio, she was greeted by the familiar hum of creativity. There were soundboards, microphones, and instruments everywhere. She could smell the faint scent of coffee in the air and the sound of a few tracks playing softly in the background.

“Wow,” she whispered, looking around in awe. “This is incredible.”

Jihoon grinned, proud of the space he had helped create. “It’s not much, but it’s home. For now, anyway.”

Y/N laughed, sitting down on the leather couch against the wall. “This is amazing, Jihoon. I can see how hard you’ve worked to get here.”

Jihoon sat beside her, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s a lot more work than I ever expected. Some days, it’s easy to forget what I’m even working for.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression soft and understanding. “I get it. It’s hard when your dream becomes your reality, and it feels like you’re just moving from one task to the next. But I know you’re doing this because you love it. I can see that in every note you play, every song you write.”

Jihoon looked at her, the sincerity in her voice touching him more than words could express. “Thanks, noona.”

After a while, Y/N stood up and walked toward the grand piano in the corner of the room. Jihoon had made sure it was a perfect space for creativity, and now, it seemed like the right moment for her to play.

“Do you mind if I play for a bit?” Y/N asked, her voice soft as she approached the piano.

Jihoon shook his head, a smile on his face. “Of course not. This is your space too.”

Y/N sat down at the piano, her fingers hovering over the keys before she began to play a soft, intricate melody. The music filled the room, and Jihoon stood, mesmerized by the way her hands moved across the keys with effortless grace.

The piece she played was familiar to him, one she had often played back when they were younger. He smiled as the sound brought back so many memories—the late nights at their school, playing together and dreaming of the future.

“This one,” Jihoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I remember this.”

Y/N smiled as she finished the piece, her fingers slowly coming to a stop. “You always loved this one. We played it together when we were younger.”

Jihoon nodded, his heart full as he sat beside her. “It feels like no time has passed. Your playing... it’s like you never stopped.”

Y/N’s smile softened, a touch of sadness in her eyes. “I didn’t stop. I just... took a different path. But music is still with me. It always will be.”

Jihoon’s gaze lingered on her, the quiet weight of their shared history filling the space. “I’ve missed hearing you play.”

Y/N chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve missed playing for someone who understands.”

They sat together for a while, talking about the past and sharing their experiences. Y/N told Jihoon about her journey, the challenges of becoming a professional pianist in a competitive world, and how she had found herself in the world of musicals. Jihoon shared his own story, about the years of hard work and struggles as a trainee, the sacrifices he had made to make it this far, and the loneliness that often came with being in the spotlight.

Later, Jihoon decided to show Y/N some of his work. “Do you want to hear some of my recent songs?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Of course. I’d love to.”

Jihoon sat at the piano, playing the melody of one of the songs he’d written. Y/N listened intently, her fingers tapping the rhythm against her knee.

“You’re really good at this, Jihoon,” Y/N said after the song ended. “You’ve come a long way since we were kids.”

Jihoon smiled, though his thoughts were a bit more complicated. “You were always my inspiration, noona. I don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, but she didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she leaned back and looked at Jihoon thoughtfully. “I’m proud of you, Jihoon. You’ve made it, even when things got tough. I’m happy we reconnected. I’ve always wanted the best for you.”

Jihoon’s chest tightened at her words, and he looked at her, his gaze soft. “I’m glad we found each other again.”

The evening eventually came to an end, and Y/N stood to leave, the night air cooling as she prepared to go back to her own busy life.

“Thanks for coming today, noona,” Jihoon said quietly.

Y/N smiled warmly. “Anytime. I’ll always be here when you need me, Jihoon. I’m proud of you, you know?”

Jihoon smiled back, though his heart felt a little heavy. “I’m proud of you too, noona. I’ve missed you.”

As Y/N stepped out into the night, Jihoon stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her disappear into the distance. He felt a sense of peace settle over him. They were both walking their own paths now, but they had found each other again. And that was all that mattered.

Jihoon couldn’t shake the feeling that their reconnection was only the beginning of something more. Days turned into weeks, and although both of their schedules were packed, they made an effort to keep in touch. Texts, late-night calls, and the occasional lunch break together kept their bond alive.

One afternoon, Jihoon found himself scrolling through his phone, looking at the messages he’d exchanged with Y/N. Her encouragement lingered in his mind, and he realized he hadn’t seen her perform since the day they met again at the musical show.

He texted her on impulse:

Jihoon:

Noona, when’s your next performance?

It didn’t take long for a reply to come through.

Y/N:

This Saturday. It’s a small recital for a local charity event. Why?

Jihoon:

Can I come?

Her response came after a pause, but it was filled with warmth:

Y/N:

Of course. I’d love for you to be there.

Saturday evening, Jihoon arrived at the venue, a cozy yet elegant hall filled with an intimate crowd. He wore a mask and cap to avoid drawing attention, but even so, a few fans recognized him and whispered excitedly. He slipped into a seat near the back, his heart racing slightly as he waited for Y/N to take the stage.

When she finally appeared, Jihoon felt his breath catch. She looked calm and radiant, her confidence shining through as she walked to the grand piano at center stage. She bowed to the audience before sitting down, her fingers poised over the keys.

The music began softly, a gentle, melancholic melody that filled the room. Jihoon could see her expression as she played, completely absorbed in the moment. Her emotions poured into each note, and he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for her.

As the final chord echoed through the hall, the audience erupted in applause. Jihoon clapped as well, his hands stinging from the force. He was proud—prouder than words could express.

Jihoon waited for the crowd to disperse before heading backstage. He found Y/N chatting with a few other performers, her smile warm and genuine as she thanked them for their kind words.

When her eyes met Jihoon’s, her face lit up. “Jihoon!”

She excused herself and walked over to him. “You came.”

“Of course,” Jihoon said, his voice soft. “You were amazing, noona. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Y/N laughed, a hint of embarrassment in her expression. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before pulling out a small bouquet of flowers he had been hiding behind his back. “These are for you. You deserve it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jihoon, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve always supported me. It’s my turn now.”

Y/N took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against his. “Thank you,” she said softly. “This really means a lot.”

The following week, Y/N visited Jihoon’s studio again, this time bringing her own sheet music.

“I thought we could try something new,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve been working on this piece, and I’d love your input.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me to help?”

“You’re a genius when it comes to music,” Y/N replied, her tone playful. “Who better to collaborate with?”

They spent hours in the studio, blending her piano compositions with Jihoon’s production expertise. The room buzzed with creative energy as they worked together, bouncing ideas off each other and experimenting with different sounds.

At one point, Jihoon paused and looked at her. “This feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

Y/N smiled, her hands resting on the piano keys. “It does. I never thought we’d get to do this again.”

Jihoon nodded, his gaze softening. “I’m glad we found our way back to this. Back to each other.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

As the evening turned into night, Y/N prepared to leave, but before she could step out the door, Jihoon stopped her.

“Noona,” he said, his voice hesitant but determined.

She turned to face him, curiosity in her eyes. “Yes?”

“I know we’ve both been busy, and our lives are complicated, but…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose touch with you again. Not ever.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she stepped closer. “You won’t, Jihoon. I promise.”

He smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. “Good. Because having you here, in my life, it feels right.”

Y/N looked at him, her own emotions reflected in her gaze. “It feels right for me too.”

As they stood there, the silence between them spoke louder than words. Their journey had come full circle, and though they didn’t know what the future held, they knew they would face it together.

Hoshi couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. The moment he learned about Jihoon and Y/N reconnecting, he shared the news with the other Seventeen members. The group was thrilled, especially after hearing countless stories about Y/N from Jihoon during their trainee days.

“Wait, is this the Y/N noona?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes wide.

“The one he couldn’t stop talking about?” Vernon added, smirking.

Joshua leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Jihoon, why didn’t you tell us you met her again?”

Jihoon groaned, sinking into the couch in their dorm. “Because it’s none of your business.”

Hoshi clapped Jihoon on the back, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, hyung, don’t be like that! We’re practically family. If she’s important to you, she’s important to us.”

Mingyu chimed in, “We have to meet her. No excuses.”

“No,” Jihoon said firmly, shaking his head. “She’s not ready for that kind of chaos.”

“Too bad,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile. “We’re making it happen.”

Jihoon had barely stepped into the studio the next day when he got a text from Hoshi:

Hoshi:

We’re on our way. Don’t freak out.

Jihoon’s heart sank. He immediately called Hoshi, but the call went unanswered. Moments later, a knock sounded at the studio door. Jihoon sighed, bracing himself as he opened it.

Hoshi stood there, grinning, with Y/N by his side. Behind them, half the members were peeking around the corner, trying to stay hidden but failing miserably.

“Hoshi…” Jihoon started, glaring at his friend.

“Surprise!” Hoshi said, pushing the door open wider. “Y/N noona, meet the family!”

Y/N laughed nervously, looking at Jihoon. “I guess I didn’t have a choice in this, huh?”

Jihoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, you didn’t. I didn’t either.”

Once inside, the introductions began. Y/N was polite and warm, but Jihoon couldn’t help but notice her slight nervousness as she met each member.

“Hi, I’m Seungkwan,” Seungkwan said, bowing dramatically. “I’ve heard so much about you. Jihoon hyung used to talk about you all the time.”

“Did not,” Jihoon muttered, earning chuckles from the group.

“Yes, you did!” Hoshi said, grinning. “You told us about how she used to cheer for you at baseball games and play piano for you when you were stressed.”

Y/N smiled at Jihoon. “You talked about me?”

Jihoon’s ears turned red, and he avoided her gaze. “It’s not like that. They’re exaggerating.”

Mingyu stepped forward, towering over both Jihoon and Y/N. “I’m Mingyu. It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve all been curious about the legendary Y/N noona.”

“Legendary?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua chuckled. “In Jihoon’s words, you were his first inspiration.”

Jihoon groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can we not do this right now?”

Y/N laughed softly, her nervousness easing as she saw Jihoon’s flustered reaction. “It’s okay, Jihoon. I’m flattered.”

The members quickly made themselves comfortable, and before long, the studio was filled with laughter and conversation. Y/N shared stories from her past with Jihoon, which the members eagerly soaked up.

“Wait, you were there for Jihoon’s first baseball game?” Dino asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N nodded. “I was. He struck out the first time he played, but by the end of the game, he hit a home run. I’ve never seen him look so proud.”

Jihoon sighed, his face flushed. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Why not?” Jeonghan teased. “It’s a great story!”

As the evening wore on, Y/N found herself growing more comfortable around the members. They were warm, funny, and clearly cared deeply for Jihoon. It made her happy to see him surrounded by people who supported him so wholeheartedly.

When the members finally decided to leave, Hoshi turned to Y/N with a mischievous grin. “Noona, you’re part of the family now. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Y/N laughed. “I’ll try not to be.”

After everyone left, the studio felt quieter, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Y/N and Jihoon sat together, the energy from earlier still lingering in the air.

“Sorry about them,” Jihoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re a bit much.”

“They’re wonderful,” Y/N replied, her voice soft. “It’s clear they care about you a lot. You’re lucky to have them.”

Jihoon looked at her, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, I am. But... I’m luckier to have you back in my life.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she smiled. “I’m lucky too, Jihoon.”

They sat in silence for a while, the unspoken bond between them stronger than ever. Jihoon knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wouldn’t face them alone.

The weeks after Y/N’s first meeting with the Seventeen members were filled with an easy rhythm of shared time. Jihoon and Y/N grew closer, finding moments between their busy schedules to meet. She was even starting to get used to the members’ playful teasing whenever she visited their dorm or joined them at the studio.

One afternoon, Jihoon invited Y/N to his studio again, but this time, the space was quieter—just the two of them.

“Thanks for making time to come today, noona,” Jihoon said, setting down two cups of coffee on the small table.

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers lightly over the keys of the studio’s piano. “Of course. You’ve been so busy lately, I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.”

Jihoon sat across from her, his expression earnest. “Never. I just... needed to find the right moment. There’s something I’ve been working on, and I want you to hear it.”

Jihoon walked over to his computer, pulling up a file on his production software. He hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

The room filled with a soft piano melody, layered with strings and gentle percussion. It was a piece unlike anything Y/N had heard from him before—introspective and filled with emotion. As the music played, Y/N felt the weight of each note, as if it was telling a story only Jihoon could share.

When the song ended, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes wide. “Jihoon, that was... beautiful. It felt so personal.”

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen. “It is. I wrote it for someone who means a lot to me.”

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her expression. “Who?”

Jihoon turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers. “You.”

Y/N’s breath caught, and for a moment, the room felt still. “Me?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon nodded, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ve been such an important part of my life, even when we weren’t in touch. I never stopped thinking about you, noona. Writing this was my way of expressing everything I couldn’t say before.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart full as she absorbed his words. “Jihoon... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jihoon said quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I just wanted you to know.”

Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a hand on his. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. And... it means more to me than I can put into words.”

Not long after, Y/N found herself visiting Seventeen’s dorm again, this time at Jihoon’s invitation. The members were ecstatic to see her, greeting her with the same enthusiasm as before.

“Noona!” Hoshi exclaimed, practically bounding toward her. “You’re back!”

“You’re braver than I thought,” Jeonghan teased, smirking. “Coming here willingly.”

Y/N laughed, the warmth of their welcome making her feel at ease. “I couldn’t say no. Jihoon insisted.”

“Hyung, insisting? That’s a first,” Dino joked, earning a playful glare from Jihoon.

As the evening went on, the members bombarded Y/N with questions.

“Did you know Jihoon was this grumpy when he was younger?” Mingyu asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Was he always this short?” Seungkwan added, causing an uproar of laughter.

Y/N chuckled, glancing at Jihoon, who was now sitting with his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. “He wasn’t grumpy. He was focused. And for the record, he was taller than most kids his age back then.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon muttered, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“But,” Y/N added, smirking, “he’s always had that little frown when he’s annoyed. It’s adorable.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Jihoon groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Why did I even invite you here?”

As the night wound down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone in the kitchen while the rest of the members watched a movie in the living room.

“Did they overwhelm you?” Jihoon asked, handing her a glass of water.

Y/N smiled, leaning against the counter. “Not at all. They’re wonderful, Jihoon. It’s clear how much they care about you.”

Jihoon looked at her, his gaze soft. “They’re like my second family. But... having you here feels different. It feels right.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she looked down at her glass. “I feel the same way.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Noona, I know we’re both busy, and I know our lives aren’t simple, but... I want us to figure this out. I want you to be a part of my life, not just as my past, but as my present and future too.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Are you sure, Jihoon? This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’m sure,” Jihoon said, his voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

A small smile spread across Y/N’s lips, and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s figure it out together.”

Jihoon’s heart swelled at her words, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace.

It was late in the evening when Jihoon and Y/N found themselves in his studio again. The familiar hum of equipment and the soft glow of the computer screen filled the room. Jihoon had invited her over under the pretense of showing her a new song, but as she sat across from him, engrossed in the notes spread on the piano, his heart raced.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, his voice quieter than usual.

Y/N looked up, tilting her head. “What’s wrong, Jihoon?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with a pen. “There’s something I need to say. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she set down the sheet music. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Jihoon took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve liked you for a long time. Since we were kids, actually. Back then, I didn’t understand it, but now I do. You’ve always been someone special to me, noona.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. “Jihoon…”

“I know our lives are complicated,” Jihoon continued, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. “But I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I like you—not as a childhood friend, but as someone I want to be with.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment. Then, Y/N stood and walked over to him.

“Jihoon,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “I’ve always cared about you, too. And honestly, I’ve been scared to admit it. But... I like you too.”

Jihoon’s eyes widened, and before he could process her words, she leaned down and kissed him. It was soft and tentative, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When they pulled away, Jihoon’s cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

“Does this mean you’ll give us a chance?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her own smile mirroring his. “Yes, Jihoon. I will.”

It didn’t take long for the news to spread, thanks to Hoshi’s impeccable talent for eavesdropping.

The next morning, Jihoon walked into the dorm’s common room to find all twelve members waiting for him, their faces a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Hyung!” Seungkwan exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

Jihoon froze mid-step, his ears turning red. “How... How do you know that?”

“Hoshi hyung told us,” Vernon said nonchalantly, smirking.

Jihoon turned to Hoshi, who was grinning from ear to ear. “You couldn’t keep it to yourself, could you?”

“I have no regrets,” Hoshi said, laughing. “This is the best thing to happen in months!”

Jeonghan leaned back on the couch, a sly smile on his face. “So, Jihoon, when are you bringing her over again? We need to congratulate her for putting up with you.”

“Yah!” Jihoon snapped, his embarrassment reaching new heights. “Can you all not make this a big deal?”

“It is a big deal,” Mingyu chimed in. “Our stoic producer hyung has a love life! This is historic.”

Joshua patted Jihoon’s shoulder, his tone more sincere. “We’re happy for you, Jihoon. Really. You deserve this.”

Jihoon sighed, his initial annoyance fading. Despite their teasing, he could see the genuine happiness in their expressions. “Thanks, I guess. But can you all promise not to scare her off the next time she visits?”

“No promises,” Dino said, grinning.

As the members burst into laughter, Jihoon couldn’t help but smile. Their antics might drive him crazy, but deep down, he was grateful to have them by his side.

A week later, Jihoon invited Y/N to the dorm for dinner. Despite his warnings, the members were already on high alert, eager to see her again and, more importantly, to tease Jihoon mercilessly.

“Do you think they’ve kissed again?” Seungkwan whispered loudly as they set the table.

“I bet they have,” Mingyu said with a smirk.

“Ten bucks says Jihoon will get flustered if we even hint at it,” Vernon added, leaning against the counter.

“Guys, focus,” Jeonghan said, though his mischievous grin betrayed his intent. “We need to play this smart.”

Meanwhile, Jihoon and Y/N arrived at the dorm. Jihoon gave her a reassuring look as he opened the door.

“Don’t let them intimidate you,” Jihoon said softly.

Y/N laughed. “I think I can handle it.”

The evening started off relatively tame. The members greeted Y/N warmly, though their excitement was palpable. Over dinner, they chatted about everything from music to childhood stories, most of which involved Jihoon.

“Did you know Jihoon hyung used to eat instant noodles for every meal during trainee days?” Dino said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Jihoon. “Really?”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do you all insist on embarrassing me?”

“It’s our duty,” Hoshi said, laughing.

As the meal continued, the members kept sneaking glances at Jihoon and Y/N, exchanging knowing looks whenever the two shared a private smile or laugh.

After dinner, Y/N and Jihoon retreated to the balcony for a moment of peace. The evening air was cool, and the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“This is nice,” Y/N said, leaning on the railing.

Jihoon nodded, standing close beside her. “Yeah, it is.”

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss her. It was soft and brief, but before they could pull away, the sound of stifled laughter made them freeze.

They turned to find half the members huddled at the door, their faces pressed against the glass.

“Oh my gosh!” Seungkwan exclaimed, throwing the door open. “We caught them!”

Jihoon groaned, stepping back from Y/N. “Do you guys have no boundaries?”

“Nope,” Mingyu said, grinning. “This is way too entertaining.”

“You guys looked like a scene from a drama,” Jeonghan added, dramatically clasping his hands over his chest.

“Hyung,” Dino said, pretending to wipe a tear. “You’re growing up so fast.”

“Leave us alone,” Jihoon muttered, his face bright red.

Back inside, the members didn’t let up.

“So, Jihoon,” Joshua said with a sly smile, “how long have you been sneaking kisses behind our backs?”

“Yeah,” Hoshi chimed in. “And why didn’t you tell us? We’re supposed to be your brothers!”

Jihoon crossed his arms, glaring at them. “Because it’s none of your business.”

“Hyung, come on,” Seungkwan said. “You’ve got to give us something. Were you always this romantic, or is this new?”

“I’m not romantic,” Jihoon snapped, his embarrassment only fueling their teasing.

Y/N, meanwhile, couldn’t stop laughing. “You guys really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to Jihoon hyung,” Vernon said, smirking.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jihoon said, standing up. “If you’re all going to act like children, Y/N and I are leaving.”

“No!” Dino said, grabbing Y/N’s hand dramatically. “Noona, don’t go! We promise to behave!”

Y/N smiled, patting his hand. “I think I’ll be back soon enough. But for now, I should probably let Jihoon calm down.”

As Jihoon walked Y/N to the door, he sighed. “Sorry about them. They’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, slipping her hand into his. “Don’t apologize. They’re wonderful. I’m glad you have them.”

Jihoon looked at her, his expression softening. “Still, I’ll make sure they behave next time.”

“Next time?” Y/N teased.

Jihoon smiled. “Yeah. Next time.”

As she left, Jihoon returned to the living room, where the members were waiting with smug grins.

“Don’t say a word,” Jihoon warned, though his expression held a hint of a smile.

The members burst into laughter, their teasing filling the room once more.

A week after the chaos of dinner at the dorm, Y/N visited Jihoon at the studio again. This time, the atmosphere was quiet and calm—just the two of them. Jihoon had asked her to help him with a melody he was struggling to finish, knowing her insight as a pianist would be invaluable.

“You know,” Y/N said, sitting at the piano in the corner, “I never thought I’d be working on music with you like this. It feels... surreal.”

Jihoon leaned against the desk, a small smile on his face. “I’ve always wanted to share this part of my life with you, noona. It just took me a while to get here.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes warm. “I’m glad you did.”

As she played a soft tune on the piano, Jihoon watched her intently. Her presence in the studio felt natural, like she belonged there.

Just as they were starting to settle into the work, the studio door burst open, and Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Hoshi walked in with bright smiles.

“Hyung, we brought food—” Seungkwan started, but then froze when he saw Y/N. His grin widened. “Oh, noona’s here!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Why are you guys here?”

“We thought you’d be lonely,” Mingyu said, setting a bag of takeout on the desk. “But clearly, you’re not.”

Hoshi smirked, nudging Jihoon playfully. “We didn’t know you’d have such nice company.”

Y/N laughed, standing up to greet them. “It’s nice to see you all again.”

“You too, noona,” Hoshi said, then turned to Jihoon. “Were you two working or—?”

“We were working,” Jihoon cut in, glaring at him.

“Sure you were,” Seungkwan teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

As the afternoon went on, the members insisted on staying, claiming they wanted to “supervise” Jihoon’s work. They lounged around, occasionally offering unsolicited opinions on the music and cracking jokes at Jihoon’s expense.

At one point, Jihoon leaned over to show Y/N something on the piano. She laughed at a joke he made, and instinctively, Jihoon reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

The moment was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh my gosh, did you see that?” Seungkwan whispered loudly to Mingyu.

“Totally,” Mingyu whispered back, though his voice was anything but quiet.

“Hyung, stop being so romantic in front of us!” Hoshi exclaimed, dramatically shielding his eyes.

Jihoon sighed, straightening up. “Do you guys ever stop?”

“Nope,” Seungkwan said, grinning. “This is our entertainment.”

Later, when the members finally started packing up to leave, Jihoon walked Y/N to the door. Thinking they were finally alone, Jihoon leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks for coming, noona,” he said softly.

Y/N smiled, her cheeks flushing. “Anytime.”

But before they could step apart, a loud gasp came from behind them.

“You’re doing it again!” Hoshi shouted, pointing at them.

The rest of the members rushed over, their expressions a mix of shock and glee.

“Hyung! In the studio?!” Mingyu said, feigning scandal.

“I can’t believe this,” Seungkwan said, clutching his chest dramatically. “Right in front of our takeout bag!”

Jihoon groaned, his ears turning red. “Can you all leave already?”

“No way,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “This is gold. Noona, you’ve really softened our Jihoon.”

Y/N laughed, covering her face with her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

“And you still like him?” Vernon teased.

“Don’t scare her off,” Jihoon muttered, shoving Hoshi lightly toward the door.

When the members finally left, Jihoon sighed in relief, turning back to Y/N. “I’m sorry about them.”

Y/N smiled, stepping closer to him. “Don’t be. I think it’s sweet how much they care about you.”

Jihoon softened, his usual stoic expression giving way to a small, genuine smile. “They’re lucky you think that. Otherwise, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around him briefly. “I’ll see you soon, Jihoon. And next time, I’ll bring snacks for everyone.”

Jihoon watched her leave, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Despite the chaos, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

As more fans became aware of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship, the reactions grew increasingly varied. While many Carats supported Jihoon’s happiness, there were vocal detractors who scrutinized Y/N’s every move.

One evening, Y/N scrolled through social media, coming across both kind messages and a few harsh comments.

“Why her?”

“She’s not even that famous.”

“He seems happier, so I guess it’s okay.”

Though the positive comments outweighed the negative, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the sting of criticism. She closed her phone and leaned back, staring at the ceiling of her apartment.

Jihoon, sensing her mood during their usual phone call, asked, “Noona, is something wrong?”

Y/N hesitated before admitting, “Some of the comments... they’re a bit much.”

Jihoon’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, noona. I wish I could shield you from all of this.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Y/N said quickly. “I just… I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“You could never do that,” Jihoon said firmly. “If anything, you make things better. Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

Her heart warmed at his words. “Okay, Jihoon.”

The members, true to their word, found ways to show their support for Jihoon and Y/N. During live broadcasts, Seungkwan and Mingyu casually mentioned how “nice” it was to see Jihoon smiling more often.

Hoshi, on the other hand, was less subtle. In a recent behind-the-scenes video, he joked, “Jihoon-hyung has someone special cheering him on these days. It’s no wonder his melodies are even sweeter!”

Carats quickly picked up on these moments, and the majority of fans began rallying around the idea of Jihoon’s happiness being their priority.

To escape the pressures of public scrutiny, Jihoon planned a quiet getaway for himself and Y/N. They drove to a small countryside village near their hometown, where they could relax without worrying about being recognized.

The day was filled with simple joys—walking along quiet paths, visiting small cafes, and sitting by a riverbank as Y/N played a soft tune on her piano app.

“You really love the piano, don’t you?” Jihoon asked, watching her.

“It’s always been a part of me,” Y/N said. “Kind of like how music is for you.”

Jihoon nodded, leaning back on his elbows. “You’re part of my music now, noona. You inspire me.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “Stop saying things like that, Jihoon. You’ll make me cry.”

Jihoon chuckled, reaching out to hold her hand. “It’s the truth.”

As time passed, Y/N and Jihoon decided to make their relationship more public. They attended a charity event together, where Y/N performed as the opening act, playing a stunning piano solo.

Jihoon watched her from the sidelines, his heart swelling with pride. When she finished, the audience erupted into applause, and Jihoon was among the loudest to cheer.

Afterward, a few fans approached them cautiously.

“Jihoon oppa, Y/N unnie is amazing!” one fan said shyly.

“Thank you,” Jihoon said, smiling warmly. “She really is.”

Y/N, though initially nervous, found herself relaxing as fans expressed their support.

“We just want you to be happy,” another fan said.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you. That means so much to both of us.”

Back in the studio, Y/N became a frequent visitor. Though she usually stayed in the background, Jihoon would often ask for her input on melodies or lyrics.

One day, while working on a particularly emotional ballad, Jihoon turned to Y/N. “This song... it’s about us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jihoon nodded. “It’s about finding someone who feels like home. That’s what you are to me, noona.”

Y/N smiled, tears brimming in her eyes. “You have no idea how much that means to me, Jihoon.”

During one of her visits to the studio, Y/N stayed late as Jihoon finished mixing a track. When he finally leaned back in his chair, exhausted but satisfied, Y/N walked over to congratulate him.

“You’ve worked so hard,” she said, brushing his hair back.

Jihoon smiled, pulling her into a gentle kiss.

Just as they pulled away, the studio door burst open, and Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Mingyu stood there, frozen in shock.

“AGAIN?!” Seungkwan exclaimed.

Jihoon groaned, his hand covering his face. “Can you guys knock?”

“No way,” Hoshi said, laughing. “This is too good.”

“I’m telling the others,” Mingyu said, pulling out his phone.

“Don’t you dare,” Jihoon said, standing up to chase him.

Y/N, meanwhile, couldn’t stop laughing. “You’ll never get a moment of peace, will you?”

Jihoon sighed but smiled, wrapping an arm around her. “Probably not. But as long as you I don't mind"

As their first anniversary approached, Jihoon found himself brainstorming ways to make it unforgettable. He wanted to show Y/N just how much she meant to him.

“Hyung,” Mingyu said one evening as Jihoon sat in the dorm’s living room, jotting down ideas. “You’re stressing out too much. It’s an anniversary, not a world tour.”

“It’s not just an anniversary,” Jihoon replied, frowning at his notebook. “It’s the anniversary. I want it to be perfect.”

Seungkwan, who was lounging nearby, chimed in. “Just be yourself, hyung. Noona already loves you. You don’t need fireworks—although, if you want fireworks, I know a guy.”

Jihoon sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”

Little did Jihoon know, Y/N was also planning something special. She knew how much music meant to him, so she composed a short piano piece inspired by their journey together. It was her way of expressing everything she felt but couldn’t always put into words.

On the day of their anniversary, Y/N arrived at Jihoon’s studio carrying a small gift bag and a folder of sheet music. She was nervous but excited.

“Happy anniversary, Jihoon,” she said, smiling as she handed him the bag.

Jihoon opened it to find a simple but elegant bracelet engraved with the words: You’re my melody.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, his voice soft. “This is perfect.”

“There’s more,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing. She handed him the folder. “I wrote this for you.”

Jihoon stared at the sheet music, his eyes scanning the notes. “You wrote a song?”

Y/N nodded. “It’s not much, but—”

“It’s everything,” Jihoon interrupted, his voice filled with awe. “Thank you, noona.”

Later that evening, Jihoon took Y/N to a small, private restaurant he had rented out just for them. The room was decorated with fairy lights and candles, creating a warm, romantic atmosphere.

“This is amazing,” Y/N said, looking around in awe.

“It’s not much,” Jihoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanted you to feel special.”

Y/N smiled, taking his hand. “I always feel special with you, Jihoon.”

As they ate, Jihoon pulled out a small box. “I have something for you, too.”

Y/N opened the box to find a delicate silver necklace with a tiny pendant shaped like a piano.

“I thought it would remind you of how much you inspire me,” Jihoon said.

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Jihoon, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

When Jihoon and Y/N returned to the dorm later that night, they were greeted by the members, who had planned a surprise party. The living room was decorated with balloons and banners, and a cake sat on the coffee table.

“Happy anniversary!” Hoshi exclaimed, pulling them into the room.

“You didn’t think we’d let you celebrate alone, did you?” Seungkwan added, grinning.

Y/N laughed, feeling overwhelmed by their kindness. “You guys are amazing.”

As the night went on, the members took turns teasing Jihoon about being romantic, sharing embarrassing stories, and welcoming Y/N further into their “family.”

Later, as the party wound down and the members dispersed, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves alone on the balcony. The city lights twinkled in the distance as Jihoon leaned against the railing, holding Y/N close.

“This year has been the best of my life,” Jihoon said softly. “Because of you.”

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I feel the same. I never imagined we’d end up here, but I’m so glad we did.”

Jihoon turned to her, his expression serious yet tender. “Noona, no matter what happens—no matter how crazy things get—I’ll always choose you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining. “And I’ll always be here for you, Jihoon.”

As they shared a gentle kiss under the night sky, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they’d face them together.

217 notes · View notes

libbyfandom · 1 year ago

Text

"I Can Comb out The Tangles"

(((I’ve seen a couple fics that focus on Mizu’s hair and same. We’re all just staring at her pretty hair, especially when it’s down. Staring.)))

(((This is for anyone that wants to take care of her.)))

Summary: You've decided that you're gonna take advantage of Mizu's inability to move from the floor after her last fight to wash her hair.

“Stop moving.”

You see Mizu freeze from where she’s trying to push herself up from the futon. With a pointedly aggravated growl, she lays back down.

Her next words come out with slightly labored breath, “If I can move around I can heal faster.”

“What? If you move around you’re gonna rip your stitches out. Again.”

You finish gathering the last of the items in your arms and heave them over to the futon. Lowering yourself behind Mizu’s head, you spread the array of items and begin to roll up one of the towels.

She cranes her neck back to see what you have with furrowed eyebrows. “What are you doing?” She had heard the sloshing of water. She identifies a wide and shallow bowl, a bucket, a teakettle, more towels, and a vial of what she assumes is perfumed oil from the decorated glass.

“I’m going to wash your hair.” You flick open her haori to check that the new bandages are still in place around her chest-

“Hey.”

She gives an annoyed tsk as she swats your hand away. “…My hair is fine.”

“Dunking your head in rivers and waterfalls doesn’t count as getting clean, Mizu,” you close her top again.

She makes a face at that as you gently lift her head and tuck the rolled towel under her neck to prop her head up.

“Just because you disguise yourself as a man doesn’t mean you should smell like one.”

She huffs out a laugh through her nose, the corners of her mouth quirking up. She feels her hair loosening from her tight updo and spilling out onto the floor behind her head.

Her eyes close. “”The grit of a warrior is found from the dirt under his nails,”” she recites calmly, but is unable to resist the smirk that comes out. One eye cracks open to peek at you.

“You’re genuinely just trying to irritate me now,” you reply with a laugh, gathering her hair and laying it flat. You take your comb from your kimono sleeve and begin to untangle the knots from the bottom.

“Maybe,” she drawls.

You fall into silence as you work. Mizu’s hand rests on her stomach as she stares up at the wooden ceiling. The way your hand smoothes over her hair as you comb out the tangles in sections feel nice.

When you tilt her head to the side to comb the hair at the nape of her neck, the dull scratch of the teeth sends a shiver down her back. It’s like when you run your nails through her hair. Her eyes close gently with a soft exhale.

A fond smile arises on your face, but you suppress the small laugh in your chest that would break the peaceful silence.

Once her hair is all nice and combed through, you untie the scarf around her neck so it doesn’t get wet.

You lift the teakettle above the bowl and carefully pour warm water halfway through, careful not to splash so closer to her face. Readjusting the bowl to sit under her head, you once again gather her hair into your fist and place it into the bowl.

She can feel the rising heat from the water warming her scalp, and hums in interest. She’s admittedly finding the thought of you washing and massaging her hair to be very appealing now after the hair combing.

You watch as her raven hair floats in the bowl, and it reminds you of everything that’s both beautiful and deadly.

You smile softly as your fingernails drag through the hair at her temple downward. You silently watch her relaxed expression as the strands of hair slip through your fingers. Her closed eyes, the curve of her lips. A deadly beauty, indeed.

Cupping the water in your hand, you run it over the hair at her temple that isn’t submerged in the water. One hand parts sections of her hair while the other wets it down. Once her hair is soaked through, you open the vial and a powdery floral scent begins to permeate the air around you two.

You pour out a handful of the oil into your palm, and begin to massage it into the hair behind her ears.

There’s a rumbling groan from deep within her chest. Her shoulders unclench even more. Mizu feels like she’s going to melt through the floor into the Earth.

You hum with pride, having brought your vigilant lover to such a compliant and serene state.

Your hands continue to massage in circles, beginning from the back of her head upward. Her hair begins to take on a slight shine from the oil, the light perfume soaking into the strands. Pressing your fingers in, around and around sections of her hair, you wash away any lingering dirt or grime from the last fight.

Your fingers actually begin to ache slightly from the amount of time it takes to massage the oil in and cover the roots of her hair. But when you look down at Mizu, her lips are parted slightly and her eyes are fluttering.

You tilt your head down at her with a curious smile.

Is she awake? Or is she just in a meditative state? Hmm…

Her breathing is quite deep and slow now. She hasn’t spoken or even twitched in several minutes.

However deep her restful state is, you’ll leave her undisturbed and finish the task.

You pull your fingers through her hair again, drawing the oil down her black strands to the ends in the water. You glide through it over and over, coating each strand in perfume.

Satisfied with how much you covered, you lift her sopping wet hair out to quickly toss the oil filled water into the empty bucket. Water drips onto the floor before you’re able to place the bowl back under her head. You dab it away so it doesn’t begin to spread to your knees or her shoulders.

You tip more warm water from the teakettle into the bowl and begin to rinse her hair. Your heart sings, seeing how she’s yet to stir. You wash the oil from her hair, repeating the motion of tossing the used water into the bucket and filling the bowl again until the water runs clear.

Your mind has quieted as well from the repetition and the process.

Scrunching her hair up to squeeze out the water, you set aside the bowl with one hand and reach for the last towel.

You wrap her hair and gently squeeze the cloth around her hair, starting from the roots downward in sections.

“Mmng-“

You pause, a little startled at the sudden break after so long in silence.

You caress her neck, “What did you say, love?”

She doesn’t answer, settling once again.

A quiet laugh escapes your throat, half confused and half amused.

“Alright, Mizu.”

She really is out.

When you’ve reached a point that her hair isn’t dripping water continuously, you unwrap the towel again and begin to comb out the new tangles.

“There we are,” you murmur, fanning her half dried hair out under her head. You hum with satisfaction, running your hands down the smooth length. You lean back to admire your work.

You gently run your fingers up the cut of her jaw, feeling the soft puffs of airs escaping her lips against the side of your hand. Still no sign of those beautiful blues coming back out. You should take advantage of this docile state and wait to wake her up. She’ll finally get some proper rest. Yes, that sounds good.

Her haori still has flecks of dried blood and dirt, and the wound on her chest is still fresh. But her hair is washed, and her breathing is soft, and the perfume in her hair wafts around the room as you stand and head to the pot to start dinner.

Mizu’s eyes blearily crack open for a moment as the floorboards shift. The blurred sight of the wooden roof comes back into view, and for a moment she tries to force herself awake. But the sounds of humming and the smell of perfume drift around her, and the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

She’s pulled back under.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai

1K notes · View notes

hearts4johnwick · 27 days ago

Text

SUMMARY. your school has a football game against smallville. after the game clark kent approaches you and asks if you want to hang out, but there’s one problem.

CW. academic rivals—except clark and reader rlly don’t hate each other, reader’s “boyfriend” doesn’t take no for an answer, fighting, fluff.

A/N. guys… before you read, i have to say I JUST started watching smallville 😭 I’m on season 1 ep 5, so some I’m going to be improvising some stuff, so, clark isn’t going to be like s1 clark, he’s going to be a bit like red k clark? so, there’s that. the ending lowkey makes me mad 😔 but yall lmk if yall want a pt 2 maybe? 😗

you and your cheerleaders celebrate your team for winning the football game against smallville with chants, flips, and jumps. you guys were happy that you won after losing two games in a row, first one was against gotham and the other against central city, which was weird because these teams haven’t won against metropolis in decades, but, the team won once again and that’s what matters tonight.

“troy’s in for a real treat tonight, huh?” your friend avery cocks her eyebrows and you chuckle. “he scored the winning touchdown, you have to rock his world, baby.” she winks at you and goes with her other cheerleading friends. your tongue runs over your teeth as you try to hide your annoyed face.

the footballers run over to the squad and you stand aside, you’re the captain, you should be there sharing the moment with them, but you don’t, you stay a few feet away ruffling your Pom poms and smiling.

you have a few friends from smallville since you were raised there, you and your brother moved to metropolis with your parents because your father had been offered a nice job there, and he took it. you recognize lana lang, whitney fordman, chloe sullivan, pete ross, and of course, clark kent.

your dad and his were practically brothers, they were inseparable ever since the sixth grade, but as they grew older, before moving to metropolis, clark’s father suddenly stopped associating with your father. you never knew why, it wasn’t your business, but now that you see clark’s face, you might ask your father.

your thoughts are interrupted by a figure standing in front of you, you focus back and it’s none other than clark kent!

“i gotta say… your dancing skills were always bad, but now? oh, they got worse.” you raise an eyebrow as he grimaces.

“yeah? well at least i still don’t run like I’m scared of tripping my own feet.” you press your lips into a thin line.

“you know, every time your squad threw you up in the air i was waiting for them not to catch you and let you fall into the dirt.”

“i didn’t see your dad here… guess he still regrets the decision to adopt you.” you click your tongue and he chuckles.

“okay, I’m going to give you that one.” you smile and shrug.

“what are you doing here, kent?” you question.

“you’re in my school’s football field, if there’s someone that should be here, it’s me.” he furrows his eyebrows.

“yeah no, after that nasty loss? might have to claim this as our territory now.” clark scoffs and looks down. “7-24? yikes!” you exclaim and inhale sharply through your teeth. “go home, kent, or else our team will show you no remorse.” you cross your arms together and he gets closer, towering over you.

“what about you? what will you do?” your eye contact is strong, and you’re teasing him with a cocky smile, but his charming eyes get you weak in the knees, you scoff and look down, giving in.

“i’m not going to do anything, i don’t have the heart.” you pursed your lips. in a blink, you notice clark’s hand shielding your face, in his hand was the football that connor, the linebacker from your team just threw. you didn’t even notice how badly you flinched, but you stayed still, staring at clark’s heroic move in awe, your eyes travel from his hand holding the football, to him. and you swear that something inside you snapped, the way he made the football stop from hitting you, how fast he reacted, that made you feel something you didn’t even know clark kent was possible of making you feel.

“holy—! i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t mean for it to go in your direction!” connor apologizes, but you shoot him a death glare.

“what the hell is your problem, connor?!” troy pushes connor and rolls his eyes.

“i didn’t mean to throw it at her! it was meant for kent!” clark rolls his eyes and throws the football back to him.

“thank you, kent.” you slowly straighten yourself up. “that was crazy, what on earth are you training for that makes your reflexes so fast?” you question and he just shrugs with a smile.

silence engulfs the two of you and it feels awkward, the only thing heard was the screaming and chanting of your cheerleading squad and the football team. clark’s eyes narrow from all around, to you, he feels nervous around you, but, the worst thing she can say is no, he thinks, so he—

“y/n.” he calls you and catches your attention. “i was thinking if maybe you’d like to hang out… later.” you shoot him a soft smile and he analyzes your reaction. “i mean, i-if you can, I’m sure you’re going to celebrate your win with your squad and team, nevermind..” he shakes his head, regretting he even asked you. ‘it’s not like she was going to go out with you anyway, clark, she’s with troy.’ he thinks. he thought it’d be game over until—

“no, i don’t plan on celebrating, i wanna be alone, you know? i don’t want to party or anything. i-i mean, I’d like to be alone with you.” you close your eyes and shake your head once you realize what you said. clark can feel the heatness creeping up his face and he laughs. “oh my gosh… i mean that like, yes! I’d like to hang out with you!” ‘jeez, no way I’m actually this awkward. I’m literally embarrassing myself oh my God, I’m going to cry’ you thought.

“great! maybe we can meet up in the beanery? it’s—“ your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“the beanery? that old thing?” you question and clark furrows his eyebrows.

“hey!” you raise your hands in defense.

“no, we’re going somewhere better, there’s this diner in central city called dine fine, we can go there, we can dine something or share a milkshake, whatever you’d like!” you smile at him and he nods.

“okay, sounds great! it’s a da—“ your smile turned into an annoyed look when you felt arms wrap around you and lips kiss your cheek. troy, your “boyfriend” watches clark’s expression change and shoots him a wink. clark can feel his face heat up, and it’s not blushing, or jealousy, he closes his eyes to avoid burning troy to a crisp.

“what’s up, kent?” troy greets clark with a bitch attitude. “she’s precious, isn’t she?” your eyes avoid troy’s, but are glued onto clark, and he can see you’re feeling uncomfortable, and you don’t know how badly he wants to smack the hell out of troy and tell him to back off from you. and he doesn’t know how badly you want him to do it. troy raises an eyebrow, urging him to answer the question.

“yes, she is, troy. you’re a lucky guy.” clark’s eyes never leave you, troy notices how yours don’t either, and his nose flares.

“i know.” he smiles. troy pulls you aside, away from clark. “hey, we’re going out to celebrate, you want us to go back to my place, or go out?” he asks you, and you pull away, shaking your head.

“it’s okay, troy, i don’t want to go out.” you cross your arms and troy smirks, he glances at clark behind you.

“okay, so, you want to go back to mine?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“no.” troy’s eyebrows raise in reaction to your tone, and clark hides a smile, and forces back down his laugh.

“okay, whatever, we’re going to go out and celebrate, let me know if you change your mind.” you nod and he leaves. your friend alanna walks over to you and locks her arm around yours.

“ready to go?” she asks and you nod.

“yeah, give me a second, I’ll be right there.” your friend nods with a cute smile and her eyes narrow between you and clark before she walks to her car.

“so, I’ll see you maybe at 8?” clark questions.

you nod at his timing and he smiles. “I’ll see you there, kent.” you turn in your heels and walk to your friend's car.

clark admires you from head to heels and god, you in that skimpy cheerleading outfit did something to him. he blows out a breath after admiring your figure and smiles to himself, trying to hold back on his thoughts. he can’t believe he’s going to see you again later, and neither can you.

you tell alanna to take you to your grandma’s house so you can shower and change your clothes. since you visit your grandma quite often, you have clothes you wear once in a while there, so after a shower, you ready yourself and head to central city right after you’re done.

since alanna is heading to metropolis due to work, she gives you a ride to the diner where you are meeting up with clark. “have fun, sweetheart, love ya!” she blew you a kiss before driving away. you blew her a kiss back and waved goodbye.

you don’t see clark inside, but you decide to enter anyway, and just as you are a few feet away from the entrance doors, your name is called out, and when you look at where the voice is coming from you notice it’s clark, your face lights up, and so does his.

‘woah.’ clark thinks to himself, for some reason, he thinks you look better in casual clothes than in your cheerleading outfit. not that he’s complaining, he loves your cheerleading outfit, the colors favor you and it shows the perfect amount of everything.

‘damn.’ you think to yourself. he’s wearing a cap with a graphic tee that shapes his biceps perfectly. ‘forget the damn diner, I wanna dine him!’ you lick your lips to hide your smile at the thought.

“hey.” he greets you first with his pearly smile.

“hi.” you say right back and also give him your pearly smile.

he places his hand behind your shoulder and you lead the way, he opens the door for you and you go inside, the 80’s music is at the perfect volume, it smells amazing inside, and overall the vibe is nice.

you sit down at one of the benches and clark sits in front of you. “is there something you want in specific?” he asks.

“we could order some fries with some nuggets, unless you actually wanna find something?” your eyes meet and he stays silent, studying your eyes he opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. you laugh and look back at the menu.

“whatever you want.” clark answers your question. “I’m okay with whatever you decide.”

“okay, well, I’ll order some fries and nuggets, and ooh! you have to try their strawberry milkshake, it’s so good, so, we’re ordering that too!” clark’s eyes stay glued on you, your excitement makes his heart melt, he loves this side of you. ever since you moved to metropolis, he thought you’d turned into this cocky, mean, captain of the cheerleading squad, but, he’s been proven completely wrong. he still sees that little bullet of a girl with princess band-aids all over her arms, and legs in your personality. “is it okay if we order that?”

“as i said, y/n. whatever you want.” he nods and you smile widely with a chuckle. “you know, for some reason, i thought that when you moved to metropolis you turned into this mean, and cocky cheerleader, but no. can i ask? why aren’t you celebrating out there with your squad and team?”

“I’m nothing like that, the rest of my squad? maybe—except alanna! but i don’t like that whole cocky mean girl vibe, i tried it, just to fit in, but fitting in is stupid, so, outside i might seem like that, but once you get to know me, i’m not.” clark nods, paying his every single attention to you. “and the thing is i don’t celebrate with them because they have a really weird way of celebrating and i don’t want to be getting drunk or anything. I’d rather be relaxed, or hanging out with my real friends, you know?” clark nods.

“i like that.” your eyes find their way back to his and you smile. “i don’t want to sound nosy, but… you and troy?” he watches the drastic change in your face from happy to disgusted and he laughs. “that bad, huh?”

“it’s all fake. the football coach just wanted that typical “captain of the football team and captain of the cheerleading squad” love story, but, there’s not one ounce of love between us.”

“i mean, i see love in his eyes.” clark mentions and you scoff.

“lust is what you’re seeing, clark.” you hold your breath and clark closes his eyes. “i can’t stand him, he’s a jerk, he doesn’t take no for an answer and it’s the worst, someone always has to come in and step in, even his teammates.” you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” you dismiss him with a shrug. “i saw it in your eyes today, that’s what i saw, and i wanted to do something, but i thought it wasn’t my place. i should’ve done something. i hated seeing him on you like that.” clark shakes his head and looks away from your eyes, you place your hand on his forearm, your warm touch sends him goosebumps all over his body, your eyes speak a million words, and his mind runs a thousand thoughts as he takes in every inch of your perfect face, your eyes, your lips.

“thank you, for at least knowing the right thing to do. also, thank you for that crazy save from me getting hit by a football.” you both share a laugh and he nods. he places a hand over yours and smiles.

“you’re welcome, and, you’re welcome.” your smile relaxes into a softer one, and the two of you stay staring into each other’s eyes, no other words need to be spoken, your eyes already do.

his ocean eyes tell you everything you need to know, does he need to admit how he feels right now? his heart racing, how he wants to feel your soft hands all over his body? his eyes are saying all of that to yours.

and yours? your eyes are begging for him to save you. for him to make you forget who troy even is. one more look and you swear you’re moving back to smallville, or more specifically, his bed.

“clark…” the way his name rolls off your tongue is something he could never get tired of, he prays that whatever comes out of your pretty little mouth is an invitation.

“kent!” the familiar voice knocks you both out of your trance and your eyes widen. you look back and see troy and half of his teammates walk behind him. “you mind getting your hands off my girl?”

“troy…” you whisper.

“you shut up, okay? get in the car. we’re going back to metropolis.” troy points at you with his index finger, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“you call her your girl and then treat her like that?” clark raises an eyebrow and stands from the bench. your heart begins to race and not in a good way. there’s no possible way this is going to end well.

“she’s my girl, kent, that means that since she’s mine, i get to treat her however i want.” troy’s teammates share uncomfortable glances and shake their heads.

“she is not your pet, troy. you need to treat her right, like she’s the woman you love because that’s what she is, isn’t she?” clark towers over troy and you like that, you like that very much, apart from the fact that he’s defending you. but you push back your feelings and thoughts, because you’re scared right now, scared for both in reality.

“and if i don’t? you think you will? in your dreams, kent.” he scoffs, and walks over to you, grabbing your hand. “come on, y/n. we’re going home.” he raises you from your seat, and you stand beside him. just when you thought this could all end here, Clark decides to open his mouth.

“i would treat her better than you ever have.” your mouth opens, and you try your best to hide your smile. when troy’s grip around you loosens, your face drops.

next thing you see is troy swinging at clark with a right hook, you back away and troy’s teammates hold you back. “no!” you exclaim at troy’s punch. thankfully, clark reacted quickly and dodged it, but then, clark grabbed troy by the collar of his shirt and pressed him against the wall.

“clark, no!” you stop him from causing further damage and he slowly lets go of troy. you wanted to troy get what he deserved, but, just not now. the time will come. “let’s just go.”

“i don’t want to see you step foot in smallville again. if i so much as see your face, or hear that you did something to her, i’ll deal with you for good.” clark throws in before walking off. you follow behind him and leave the diner.

you were still trying to process what the hell just happened in there, clark defended you and went face-to-face with troy because he disrespected you. ‘oh my god?’

clark has his back against you, your eyes look up and he turns. “clark… what—“ you blink repeatedly.

“y/n. if he ever lays a single finger on you again, you let me know, alright?” you nod and hum. he nods and caresses your arm. “are you okay?” he asks and you hum.

“uh-huh…” clark chuckles and you inch closer to him.

you don’t exactly what you feel right now, but it feels good, and you hope he can help you with it because he’s the reason you’re feeling like this. your eyes are searching for an answer, ‘does he want this? because i sure do.’

“how far is your grandma’s house from here?” you pause in your daydreams to answer his question.

“like 15 minutes, i know the way.” you answer.

“okay, but, you’re not going alone.”

“why not? you don’t think i can handle myself?”

“oh, i know you can handle yourself, but, let me take you, ‘kay?” you smile at his offer and suck on your bottom lip before you lead the way.

the walk to your grandma’s house was silent, thankfully, it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, but the two of you were on the verge of speaking, you just had no idea of what. of the sexual tension before troy ruined it? of the almost fight? how clark defended you? why did he defend you exactly? God, you think that whatever the answer is, it’d land you both on top of each other.

clark can see how your heart is beating quickly, and he doesn’t know if it’s because you’re either scared, mad, nervous, or maybe just turned on. it’s the fourth option, you know that very well, but he thinks it’s the second.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” he speaks, breaking the eternal lasting silence between you two. “i-i didn’t mean to scare you or make you mad by what happened at the diner. it’s just… you don’t deserve that asshole.” the two of you stop in your tracks. you flutter your eyelashes at him and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, he swallows before speaking again. “and I’m also sorry that we didn’t get to share a milkshake.”

“apology not accepted,” you say. his face drops and your eyebrows furrowed. “they’re not needed, clark.” he sighs in relief and you smile. you continue your walk, you’re about 3 minutes away from your grandma’s house, but you wish it were hours instead, you do not want to say goodbye to him at all.

“i’m glad we could share this night, clark.” as you arrive at your grandma’s house, you stop your feet and turn to face him. the only light that’s making you able to see each other is your grandma’s porch lighting. “would’ve been better if we could’ve shared a milkshake, but…” you sputter and he chuckles.

“it’s okay, just a moment with you is enough for me.” his words made your knees weak, you lick your lips and suck your bottom lip in, close your eyes, and feel his index finger brushes your cheek. your eyes open and reunite with his.

“can we stay like this?” you whisper, as your eyes travel to his lips.

“yeah.” he whispers back, his finger still caressing your cheek.

his hand finds its way to your waist and he pulls you forward, your chest touching his, your breathing matches and you’re still deep into each other’s eyes.

‘if only he knew I’m sending him the most straightforward invitation to come inside.’ you think right as your eyes remove themselves from his lips and back into his eyes.

your tongue traces over your teeth and you smile. you look down to the ground and lean forward. you press a soft kiss on clark’s cheek and he closes his eyes. when you back away, your lips are so close to each other, and his eyes have the green light on for your lips to move to his, and as much as you want to, you don’t, though you could feel his slightly rose yours.

“i’ll be seeing you around, kent.” you smirk as you run your hand over his arms, again, your gentle touch sends goosebumps through his body, the second your fingertips are removed from his skin, he misses you already, all he wishes to do is turn you back around and make you all his for the rest of the night.

your heels touch the ground and you turn, approaching your grandmother’s steps, you tease him with a look back and a mocking grin, and he chuckles as he watches your expression. the second you enter the door he runs back to his house, but, safe to say that wasn’t the end of his night.

❛ ‘cause you’re a good girl and you know it

you act so different around me. ❜

#gigi writes dc ✹#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #smallville #smallville fic #superman #superman x reader #superman x y/n #superman x you #tom welling #tom welling x reader #tom welling x you #tom welling x y/n

178 notes · View notes

azullumi · 10 months ago

Text

“i wanna be yours” ; aventurine

premise — but this is what friends do, right? they slow dance together in the living room while saying sweet nothings ; inspired by this ask (though i never really followed the entire idea, my hands has minds of its own)

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff (with a little bit of angst at the end), friends but wanting more type of relationship, all written in reader’s pov, not proofread, 1.2k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs (hi boo)

note — i keep on comparing aventurine to the sun i dont even know why i do it. 9 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER

“care to dance?” the languid, lazy silence draws itself away as the honey-haired man spoke, offering you his hand as he did. the light humming of the music in the background keeps the night awake and alive, the softness of the notes intertwined in the air that settles in your home.

you stare at his hand for a moment, admiring the glistening bracelet on his wrist before you answer, tone meek and hesitant: “i don’t know how to dance.” you expected him to laugh at you for not knowing a simple and common concept; dancing was a form of art known to many and yet, you are unfamiliar with it.

but aventurine simply smiles at you and takes your hand to hold on his own, gently pulling you up from your seat and making you stumble on your feet—however, he catches you and doesn’t let you fall to the ground. you are only met with the warmth of his body and the feeling of his unoccupied hand resting on the small of your back.

“you could have warned me before you did that.” you huffed, although you weren’t exactly reprimanding him.

“i still caught you, didn’t i?” the man answers in a gentle tone as he begins to sway you to the rhythm of the song (the melody wraps itself around your form like the cradle of a warm blanket), a familiar tune that plays in your living room and now you are listening to it as you—no, as he dances and guides your movements. you try to follow him albeit like a clumsy child and silence trailed behind your steps as none of you spoke, only wallowing in this moment between you and him.

(his hand is warm against yours, fingers lacing with each other like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. you have never known how gentle he can be, have never known the warmth of his hands and the softness of his palms up until this moment. maybe it’s the feeling of his touch that’s making you drunk and aeons, you’ve never thought of yourself as a selfish person but something in the way he’s holding you makes you crave for more.)

“focus,” he whispers to your ear, catching you completely off-guard when his breath tickles your skin, “you’re supposed to look at me, not at the ground.”

you compose yourself, bringing your gaze to his face instead of the marble floors that seem to spin as you move, “i was watching my feet so i won’t accidentally step on you.”

“i don’t mind if you do, all i wish is for you to look at me and me only.” he speaks so gently, so delicately as if something akin to despair hangs on the tangled threads of his words. you study his face, looking at the lines on his features and trying to look for the gap of his expression—you could never tell what he was thinking, could never decipher the meaning he skillfully weaves to the words that he utters (you wish you had the ability to look into minds, perhaps you would have known him).

he notices your silence and smiles, “can’t a poor man have their own wishes?”

you take a moment once more to answer, “i didn’t say that.” well, in fact, you weren’t saying anything. the sound of laughter slips past his lips and perhaps, if you didn’t see the way his eyes formed into a crescent and his expression contorts one into amusement, you would have mistook the sound as part of the song.

“you should see the way you look right now.”

you raised your eyebrow at him, confusion evident in your face, “what do you mean? is there dirt on my face?”

aventurine pulled you closer to him, movements coming to a stop as you two stood still. his face is leaning down to yours, lips merely inches away from each other, and your thoughts are in a jumble as if your mind was a library of cluttered and disorganized bookshelves.

“no, i’m saying you look lovely tonight.” he whispers—and you swear, you see his eyes look down to your lips for a moment—, his voice low as if you’re the only one who’s supposed to hear and not the moon that casts its curious glow on his skin, not the stars that watched your every move, but you and just you.

(you’re left with nothing but silence and warmth in your cheeks, not knowing where to focus or even think about—the strong scent of his perfume or his words that repeatedly echoed inside your head.)

the golden-haired man doesn’t speak any further, continuing his slow dance with you in the comfort of your living room as he hums along to the melody. the night is heavy against your shoulders as the silver moonlight laid on the ground like spilled milk.

“it is quite simple, isn’t it? look, you’re able to follow.”

“aven, you’re doing all of the work.”

he slowly spins you around—the world looks slow and messy for you for a moment—before he answers, “barely.” he comes face to face with you and you don’t fail to notice the affection in his eyes when he meets your gaze.

“don’t look at me like that.” you wished he wouldn’t look at you in that way; something tugs at your heart and suffocates you.

“like what?”

“i don’t know.” hesitation follows your tone, broken and unsure, seemingly lost in an empty field full of directions. “like…” like you wanted me like a lover, you keep the words at your throat knowing you’ll choke on it one day. you don’t know how to say it, you don’t even know if you can say it. it was as if the ability to speak has been taken away from you.

the song came to its end and so was the dance.

“you should go to sleep, don’t stay up too much.” aventurine says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss on your forehead. he lets you go as soon as he parts his lips, stepping back to the distance the both of you once had before all of this happened, as if nothing occurred between you two, as if the words whispered against each other, the closeness, the intimacy were all just some silly imagination.

“are you leaving already?” you ask, your hand reaching out to tug at his sleeve as if you didn’t want him to go. you don’t even know what made you hold on to him, what made you want him to not want to leave.

the man who had the universe in his wake answers with warmth in his tone, “i can’t stay any longer.” he holds your hand and ushers you to remove your grasp on his sleeve. everything felt so different now, your thoughts were all so loud but you couldn’t dare to speak nor say something as you watched him turn away and leave—the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the corners of your home and you were left alone, in silence and in the cold.

but the comfort and warmth of his touch lingered on your skin—and you’ll remember it all; it will haunt you, follow your shadow everywhere you go, pulling on the hem of your shirt with the desperation of a dying man and you don’t know how to live knowing the way he held you on this night. how are you supposed to deal with the fact that his hands were as soft and warm as summer?

#honkai aventurine #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai fluff #honkai imagines #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #hsr #azul.writes

709 notes · View notes

deanangel · 18 days ago

Text

pairing: dean winchester x angel reader .ᐟ | minors do NOT interact

synopsis: dean winchester didn't have a good rep within the community of all things supernatural. especially with angels and demons, so when you fell from heaven, it was expected he wasn't going to be kind. however, he must've had a change of heart when it came to you.

warnings: religious maybe? , making out , oral (fem receiving) , finger sucking ...

word count: 1k+

the first time your feet touched the land you were set to watch over and protect after your fall it was like a wave came crashing over you. your body stumbled and fell like a newly born fawn trying to find it's balance. to others around it seemed entertaining, but to it was humiliating. in heaven you were known as a fierce warrior, fighting battles head on. leading armies like it meant nothing, now you had to restart. needing to learn how to live your life, this time, as a human.

it took you a while but you found your place, where you could keep your innocence and fit in. tending to the farm was your duty, it helped pass the time and gave you a sense of comfort. the longing feeling of wanting to be back in heaven never left, yet you found a new purpose here on earth. one you didn't need grace for-even though yours was slowly coming back.

the sound of your boots hitting against the dirt and sticks echoed throughout the early morning. the sun's rising figure emerged from beneath the horizon. it was normal for others to find you up bright and early, but what wasn't normal was the 67'chevy impala parked near your house.

a fellow angel castiel came out first and your body reacted on instinct, immediately rushing out towards him. in an instant you had him wrapped up in your arms.

dean was the first to notice your actions, he should've pulled out his angel blade just incase; however, something about you was alluring, dangerous even. and he wanted to know more. his piercing green eyes trailing down your body.

staring at the skin showing from the rise of your tank-top. he couldn't lie, for an angel you were a beauty. one he wanted to get his hands on and corrupt, to teach you things and pleasures you would've never known if you hadn't fallen. it felt like an eternity of staring before he snapped out of his daze. his eyes met yours, which were now in front of his face.

“and you are?” you'd ask, your lips enticing him as they moved with each word. plump and ready to be pressed against his.

“dean, dean winchester.” his name fell from his mouth with something lingering beneath that you couldn't quite understand.

you repeated his name, it sounded so sweet, sweet like honey rolling off your tongue. and, suddenly his jeans felt a little too tight on his legs and he regretted wearing that second jacket. you led them inside with a subconscious sway of your hips, all dean could focus on was what his hands would look gripping onto them; if he could make handprints appear so everyone knew who you belonged to.

your jeans were fitted against your body, leaving little to imagination. the bows that decorated your hair added on to your innocent nature.

dean couldn't wait to pull them off of you, nice and slow, teasing you until you begged for him to take you. you didn't know what you were doing to him, a little thing like you was his to ruin…

and just like that, as the sunsets and the moon rises you found yourself tangled up with the eldest winchester. your bodies almost glued together as your hands roamed each other; his with precise movements while yours were sloppy and uncoordinated. you were inexperienced after all.

when his lips found yours in a hungry and demanding kiss, every bit of self control you had left dispersed into nothing. your hands gripped onto his locks as you deepened the kiss, determined to get more, to feel more of this addicting tingle that coursed through your body.

dean's hands found their way onto your hips, gripping tightly just how he imagined he would earlier. his teeth pulling your bottom lip between them, swallowing your soft moans. the kiss was hot and heavy, both of you acting like a starved man. it didn't take long for you to find yourself under him, watching as he peeled every inch of clothing from your body. leaving you only in your panties, which had grown damp from previous activities.

“dean, please..” honestly you didn't know what you were pleading for, your mind had gone blank and the only thing that took up the space was dean.

“shh, don't worry sweetheart, I've gotcha. be a good girl f'me and lay back, yea?” this time you understood what was lurking beneath his voice.

you nodded with a small whine, bucking your hips towards him one last time before laying back being as still as you could.

you watched through hooded eyes as his body moved down until his head was pressed between your thighs and his warm breath fanned over your panty-clad cunt. his fingers hooked onto the waistband of them and he slowly peeled them away. his eyes drinking in the sight. you swear you could see him salivating.

without warning he plunged his face into your pussy, the tip on his nose hitting your clit at the right angle and your toes curled immediately. he lapped up and sucked at your juices like a mad man. you couldn't stop the noises that escaped your lips in that moment. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched off the bed when you felt him push two fingers into your tight heat. “dean, dean, dean!” his name sounded almost like a prayer falling from your swollen lips.

dean growled, the noise going straight to your core as the knot inside you tightened; it was ready to snap. he brought his lips to your clit, sucking and biting as he skillfully plunged his fingers deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot everytime.

“c'mon pretty, cum for me, cum on my fingers.” his words must've been a command from heaven above with how fast your body complied. you tightened your grip on his hair as your hips bucked and shuddered, riding out your first orgasm.

he lifted his head up from beneath your thighs once your grip loosened to look at you. your arousal coated his stubble chin and perfect lips. the sight alone made you clench around nothing. dean brought his fingers to his lips, pushing them dangerously slow into his mouth. humming at the taste of you. as you laid there, spent and satisfied. having discovered the greatness of being a human, you knew you couldn't have anyone but dean.

authors note: hii, this is my first fanfic post please lmk what you think and if i should continue writing .ᐟ .ᐟ

#lailahs fics 𐙚.ᐟ #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #spn fandom #spn fanfic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester is a munch #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x angel!reader #dean winchester x angel!reader #spn smut

185 notes · View notes

aerynwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Remember

Halsin x gn!Reader

A/N: thank you for the request @sabersandsnipers! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy! See the request here.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: kissing, love confessions, miscommunication, drunk reader, drunk confessions, morning hangovers/blurry memory, Halsin being a gentleman 🥰

The campfire burns brightly in the night, heating your already heated cheeks.

You all finally came across some good wine, pilfered from a wine cellar in a small abandoned town. Astarion practically melted as he read the labels. Practically glaring at you when you asked him what was so special.

“These are vintage darling. Practically liquid gold compared to the piss we’ve been drinking.”

Your other companions had happily helped tote crates of the stuff back to camp then, excited to finally indulge in the best, for once.

And it is the best. The best you’ve ever had for sure. At least in recent memory.

The wine is rich and decadent, passing your lips without that unpleasant burn the cheap stuff gives. It’s sweet and slides down easily - maybe a little too easily.

It turns your brain to figurative mush, your limbs starting to feel heavy despite the uncontrollable giggles slipping past your lips as Karlach acts out another one of her battle stories.

Your inhibitions have started to slip, especially those tied to your tongue. Because along with your giggles you’re unable to stop your flirtatious rambling to the druid sitting beside you at the fire. He is also taking part in the festivities, albeit more cautiously, only having had a single glass to your…

Well…you don’t know how many.

Another giggle slips past your lips as you lean into the man at your side, watching as Karlach flops down onto the ground in a reenactment of her downing an enemy. Wyll goes to help her up but is also unsteady on his feet and soon joins her in the dirt, both of them howling in laughter.

Halsin lets out a laugh of his own at their antics and you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your numb lips.

“I like your laugh,” you say, turning to look up at Halsin.

The man is taller than you even sitting down, so when he looks down to you, pieces of his hair fall forward into his face.

“My laugh?” He asks, a smile splitting his lips as he most likely finds enjoyment in your inebriated state.

You nod, leaning forward once more to rest your forehead against his chest, abandoning your goblet in favor of wrapping the man in a weak embrace.

“I just like you,” your words are slurred as you slump more into the larger man’s embrace. “And you smell good.”

Halsins chest rumbles with laughter beneath your cheek and it just further adds to the buzzing beneath your skin, even more so when you feel his hands grasp your arms gently.

Yet another thing you notice about him. His hands are calloused, roughened with years of using a weapon and tending the land and communing with nature. But he’s so…gentle. His smile, his words, his laugh, his entire being just screams safety.

It’s what draws you to him no matter how much you try to stay away. Which isn’t very much considering he has slowly started to reciprocate your attraction.

At least…you hope.

“I think it’s high time for you to get some rest,” Halsin says, moving to stand from his seat and guide you to do the same.

“What?” You ask, the world spinning slightly as you get to your feet. “But I’m having fun!”

The words are slurred as Halsin slips an arm around around your waist to steady you, slowly leading you away from the fire. You don’t miss the various whistles and hoots from your other companions as he does so.

Halsin smiles, not that you see it as you focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he leads you.

“I know you were, but it will be an ill-fated day tomorrow if you continue to drink.”

Despite your drunken state you recognize the wisdom in his words.

“You’re probably right, but -“ you pause as you struggle to take in your surroundings before you realize you’re being led away from your tent.

“Wait, my tent is that way,” you emphasize by pointing a staggering finger in the vague direction of your tent, a movement that causes your feet to twist up beneath you.

You would have fallen if it weren’t for the druid at your side stopping to catch you before opting to lift you into his arms instead.

“I know where your tent is located, but my tent is far closer.”

You hum in response, your head lolling backwards, eyes meeting the stars above you.

“I can walk, you know.”

Halsin laughs at this, shifting to support your head as he draws closer to his tent. “Your earlier attempts would disprove that statement.”

You pout your lip at him as he finally ducks into his tent. “You’re mean,” you say plainly.

“I apologize, little one.”

His words hold little apology but you don’t point it out as he finally lowers you to your feet, helping as you try to steady yourself. Only when he pulls away do you finally look up at him, and you take the moment of silence to take in the man before you.

He’s still smiling down at you, all while watching to make sure you keep your feet. His brows furrow slightly with every uneasy shift of your body, his hands tightening where they rest on your hips.

Without thinking you reach up, placing uncoordinated fingers against the scars that run over his brow. He stills at this, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed as you trail your fingers down. Your hand cups his cheek now, thumb running over where the scar ends just below his lips.

Lips you want nothing more than to kiss right now.

His eyes open then, as if sensing your questioning stare. You’ve both drifted closer to one another during this silent moment, your chests brushing together as you look up at him.

“Halsin?”

“Yes, my heart?”

Your breath stutters in your chest at the new nickname, and you can smell the faint scent of wine on his breath as he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words fall into silence, and you can practically feel the tension in the air dissipate as Halsin’s eyes close tightly, a sigh falling from his lips as he steps away from you slightly.

Your drunken mind moves before he speaks, making you stumble over your words.

“Oh that’s - I understand. I shouldn’t have asked, that was - I’m sorry I-“

Before you can ramble any further, Halsin has your face cradled in his hands, green eyes capturing your own.

“You misunderstand,” he tells you, thumbs brushing your cheek bones lightly. “I have wanted to kiss you, to touch you for longer than you can imagine,” he admits, eyes softening. “But I do not wish for our first kiss, our first coming together to be in the midst of a wine induced haze.”

He smiles.

“I want you to remember this, and I’m afraid in this state, you may wake tomorrow with no memory of tonight.” He moves to push a stray piece of hair from your face as one hand settles at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I do not want to lose a moment with you.”

His words ease the anxiety roiling in your belly, and you find it in you to nod. The sentiment increases the heat in your cheeks once again.

Halsin smiles at your ascent, and gently leads you to bed. His bed roll is set up on top of a pile of furs which cradle your body perfectly where you all but flop onto it. Your earlier statement of not being tired is quickly erased as your eyelids begin to shut, sleep tugging at your mind as you settle into the soft bed.

The last thing you remember before slumber takes you is the feeling of warm hands trailing your arms before something soft covers you and one brief thought.

He feels the same.

——————

A pounding headache is what eventually wakes you from your slumber. Your mouth is dry, tongue laying thick in your mouth as you try and fail to swallow and wet your mouth. Your eyelids feel filled with sand as you peel them open, only to be met with darkness. The only light is from the sun seeping into the tent in thin slivers from the slightly parted tent flap.

You notice multiple things at once. First being that you’re not in your tent, but in Halsins. The second being the smattering of blurry memories from last night.

Oh Gods…I basically threw myself at him!

You remember that vaguely, asking to kiss him, and then the rest is…foggy. You remember him turning you down and then not much else afterwards.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms you try to take in your surroundings, letting out a small sigh when you see Halsin isn’t in the tent with you. You can avoid embarrassment just a little longer, at least.

You quickly grab your shoes that you see at the end of the bedroll and after making sure the coast is clear you make your way across camp in the early morning light to your own tent.

The next few hours pass in a blur if periodic sleep and the eventuality of the camp stirring to life around you. A rude reminder that you can’t avoid a certain druid forever.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Karlach's voice pierces the air as she pokes her head into your tent. “Can you take firewood duty? We’re running low.”

You nod quickly. You might not be able to avoid the inevitable but…maybe a little longer.

————

The woods are quiet, this time of day, morning starting to give way to midday as you wander through the trees, gathering suitable logs for camp.

However, the tranquility of nature gives your mind time to wander back to last night, desperately trying to force memories to light. But no matter how hard you try, nothing new comes to light. Just you embarrassing yourself in front of the man who’s captured your affections.

You sigh, before gasping as the toe of your boot catches on an exposed root, your thoughts distracting you from your surroundings. The wood in your arms teeters precariously and just about falls to the forest floor before you feel two strong hands steady you.

“You look as if you could use some help,” a familiar voice says, and your stomach flips as Halsin comes to stand in front of you, smiling down at you. “Here.”

He reaches out to take the wood from you before you can protest, the pile that nearly filled your arms looking tiny against his larger frame.

You want to become defensive, but stop yourself before you can snap. Your anger is misdirected to him when you’re really upset with yourself.

You give the man a small smile. “Thank you,” you say before gesturing back towards camp. “I think that should be enough for now, we can head back.”

Halsin just nods before moving in step beside you as you both make the short trek back to camp. Neither of you speak at first - you too anxious to bring anything up and Halsin is probably too polite to do the same.

At least you thought.

“You were gone from my tent when I arrive back from a hunt this morning,” he says simply. An observation. Yet it feels like an accusation, or at least a question. But you almost feel like you can hear…disappointment in his words. Hurt.

You don’t look at him, embarrassment blooming in your chest again. You shrug. “I just…figured I’d save us both the awkward embarrassment.”

You’re at the edge of camp now, and you stop next to the dwindling wood pile and start unloading pieces from Halsin arms onto the ground.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you finally say, avoiding his gaze still. “I shouldn’t have drank so much and I definitely shouldn’t have put you on the spot and I just thought that if I left this morning it would save you from having to turn me down again and-“

The last piece of wood falls from your hands as you fumble over your words, but a steadying hand quickly reaches out to grab your own before you can move to pick it up again.

Finally, you turn to look at Halsin, and you’re taken aback to see…amusement twinkling In his eyes, his lips tugging up into a small grin.

“So you do not remember last night?” He asks, head tilting to the side slightly.

You shake your head, frowning. “I mean I don’t - I remember some of it. I remember asking to - to kiss you…” you cringe slightly at the hazy memory. “And then I remember you pulling away and-“

Before you can ramble any further, callused hands cup your cheeks and soft lips capture your own.

A memory comes to you then, as if Halsins touch alone makes it resurface. You remember what you thought was his rejection, then his confession, then his kind words after.

“I want you to remember this.”

He didn’t reject you. He returns your affections, and has for some time now it seems.

You finally kiss him back, your hands falling to his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He pulls you closer then, lips moving against yours in a way that screams desperation. He’s been holding back for so long, and so have you.

But not anymore.

Yet he pulls away all too soon, leaving you breathless and wide eyed as you look up at him, still gripping onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if he steps away.

“I don’t think I could have forgotten a kiss like that,” you say, voice soft.

Halsin laughs, a quiet chuckle as his thumb runs soothingly over your cheekbone.

“I will not forget this moment either,” he assures. “But I did not want to risk losing it to the haze of last evening. These things are better enjoyed with a clear mind.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the seriousness of his words. “You’re not wrong in that,” you say, reaching up to trace gentle fingers over the scars on his brow.

Another memory flickers to mind and you smile as you watch Halsins eyes flutter closed, just like they did last night.

“Halsin,” his name is a whisper on your lips.

He smiles, eyes blinking open once more. “Yes, my heart?”

Gods that nickname.

“Can I kiss you?”

He pulls you closer, nose brushing your own. “You never have to ask, little one. My heart is yours.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and you're silently glad he made you wait. Because he was right.

You don’t want to lose a moment with him, either.

#halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 halsin #halsin

2K notes · View notes

mysunshinetemptress · 26 days ago

Text

Taste of Heaven

Tex Universe

You feel so out of place amongst the jerseys, your hat placed firmly on your head even as different passerby stare at you. You're used to rodeos, the smell of dirt and unruly animals, muck-covered boots, and dust-covered faces, not seats with backs on them, concrete floors and big green pitches.

You're decked out in your boots and hat, while people run around you in jerseys and shorts, flags covering their bodys and scarfs with who you can only presume are players faces on them, face paint covering their cheeks.

Mitch looks just as lost as he hands you a hot dog "Why are they dressed like that." He asks as a teenage girl walks past eyeing you suspiciously, "I think they are thinking the same thing." You decide finding your seats would be a better option then standing amongst the crowd.

At the rodeo, the focus was on the animals, the skill of the riders, the raw power of the competition. Here, the focus seemed to be on… everything else. The noise was deafening – a cacophony of cheers, chants, and the constant blare of music from the stadium speakers. It was a far cry from the low rumble of the livestock, the sharp crack of the starting gate, the announcer’s booming voice echoing across the arena.

You tugged on the brim of your hat a nervous habit you usually reserved for the moments Mitch or your brothers would burst from the chute on top of a bucking bull.

Finding your seat you can't help but stare at the pitch infront of you, it was an unnatural green, perfectly manicured and impossibly smooth, a stark contrast to the dusty, uneven ground of the rodeo arena. There were no bucking broncos, no charging bulls, no cowboys risking life and limb. Instead, small figures in brightly colored uniforms ran back and forth, chasing a small white ball. It seemed… tame.

"Wheres Leah." Mitch asks as he leans into you but you're already looking right at her, your eyes track her every move as she runs back and forth, you simply point at her.

The game unfolds in a flurry of movement. The crowd roars with every near miss, every close call. You still don’t quite understand the rules, but you’re starting to grasp the rhythm of the game. It’s a dance of strategy and athleticism, a constant push and pull between two opposing forces. It's not the raw, untamed energy of the rodeo, but it has its own kind of intensity.

Mitch, ever the pragmatist, is now fully engrossed in the game, asking you questions about the players, the score, the purpose of certain plays. You shrug most of them off, your attention fixed on Leah. You see her intercept a pass, her tall frame weaving through two her opponents. The crowd beside you erupts as she kicks the ball down the field, a collective groan echoing through the stadium as it’s blocked by the opposing goalie.

“She’s fast,” Mitch comments, nudging you with his elbow. You turn nod going to agree before you feel a tap on your shoulder. "I can't see."

You turn to find a small boy, maybe eight or nine years old, peering up at you from behind a bright blue jersey that dwarfed his small frame. He was clutching a foam finger almost as big as his arm. “I can’t see,” he repeated, his voice barely audible above the roar of the crowd. "Your hat, its in my way." You laugh letting out a small sorry before taking it off and placing it on your leg.

The boy beamed, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Thanks!" he chirped, immediately turning back to the field, his eyes glued to the action. You glanced down at your hat, feeling strangely bare without it. It felt like shedding a layer of skin, exposing a vulnerability you weren't used to displaying in public. You were so accustomed to the familiar weight of it, the way it shielded your eyes from the sun and the judging stares of strangers.

The game continued, and you found yourself getting more invested than you expected. You started to understand the flow of the game, the way the players moved as a unit, anticipating each other’s actions. It was a different kind of teamwork than you were used to seeing at the rodeo, where it was often man against beast. Here, it was a collective effort, a synchronized dance of skill and strategy.

You watched Leah closely, admiring her athleticism and determination. She moved with a grace and power that reminded you of a wild mustang, untamed and free. You could see the fire in her eyes, the burning desire to win. It was a familiar fire, one that burned within you too, whether you were on horseback or simply watching from the sidelines.

During a break in the game, Leah jogged towards the sidelines, catching sight of you and Mitch as you slip your hat back on standing up to make use of halftime. A wide smile spread across her face as she waved. You gave her a small wave back, feeling a surge of pride. She was thriving in this environment, embracing the energy and excitement of the game.

The little boy behind you tapped your shoulder again. "She's good," he said, pointing at Leah. "She's gonna score next time."

You nodded in agreement. "I think you're right."

“Are you a real cowboy?” the boy asked, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. You glanced down at your boots, worn leather scuffed from years of riding and ranch work, then up at your jeans, faded and patched in places. You were a walking, talking testament to a life lived outdoors, a stark contrast to the sea of brightly colored jerseys and painted faces surrounding you.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I reckon I am,” you replied, your voice a low drawl that seemed to amplify the difference between you and the rest of the crowd.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Wow,” he breathed, as if you’d just revealed some great, hidden secret. “Do you… do you ride bulls?”

“Used to,” you said, a flicker of memory – the adrenaline, the fear, the sheer exhilaration – passing through your mind. “Mostly horses now. And work the ranch.”

“Cool!” he exclaimed. He paused for a moment, then added in a hushed tone, “My dad says cowboys are tough.”

“They have to be,” you agreed, thinking of the long days, the unpredictable weather, the stubborn animals. It wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was a life you loved.

“Did you ever get bucked off?” the boy asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

You chuckled. “More times than I can count,” you admitted. “It’s part of the job.”

The boy giggled, clearly delighted by this admission. He seemed to have forgotten all about the game for the moment, his attention completely focused on you.

Mitch, who had been listening to the conversation with amusement, leaned in and ruffled the boy’s hair. "She's the best cowgirl out there, don't let her tell you otherwise."

You shook your head, a grin spreading across your face. “Just a cowgirl” you corrected him gently.

Just then, the whistle blew, signaling the start of the second half. The crowd erupted once again, the noise washing over you in a wave of sound. The boy turned back to the field, his foam finger raised high in the air.

You watched Leah as she sprinted down the field, her eyes fixed on the ball. You saw the determination in her face, the same fire that burned within you. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that she was going to make something happen.

And then, it happened. Leah received a pass, deftly maneuvering around two defenders. The crowd held its breath as she approached the goal. With a powerful kick, she sent the ball soaring through the air, past the outstretched hands of the goalie, and into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of pure joy and excitement. You jumped to your feet, clapping and cheering along with everyone else. The little boy behind you was jumping up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“I told you!” he yelled, turning to you with a triumphant grin. “She scored! She’s the best!”

You laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You were right,” you admitted.

The match ends shortly after and you can't help but stand there awkwardly, what happens now, is that it, is that the only glimpse of Leah you get.

You watch as she flutters around people hugging them, chatting excitdly but mitch digs you in the back pulling your attention, "What now." You shrug "leave i guess she-she never said anything about after so i guess that was it." Mitch can tell your upset, its weird the connection you and Leah have, for people who spend such little time together.

Mitch gives you a knowing look, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, you really think that's it?" he asks, nudging you with his elbow. "She wouldn't have invited us if she didn't want to hang out."

You shift uncomfortably, tugging at the brim of your hat again, a habit you thought you really wish you would kick. "I don't know, Mitch. It's… different. This whole thing is different." You gesture vaguely around at the emptying stadium, the lingering echoes of the crowd's roar. "I doubt I'm exactly her type, am I?"

Mitch rolls his eyes. "Since when do you care about types? You two clearly hit it off. Just give it a chance." He claps you on the shoulder.

You shake your head your eyes searching for the blonde once more "Let's just go." sighing Mitch follows you as you head towards the steps.

"Oye Texas, where do you think you're going?" a voice called out, cutting through the dispersing crowd. You froze, your hand tightening on the brim of your hat. That voice, laced with a familiar mix of amusement and exasperation, belonged to Leah.

You turned, your heart doing a funny little skip in your chest. Leah was jogging towards you, her teammates trailing behind her, offering her high fives and words of congratulations. Her face was flushed with exertion and excitement, but her smile was bright as she approached.

"We were just… leaving," you mumbled, feeling suddenly awkward under her gaze. You glanced at Mitch, who was grinning at you like a Cheshire cat.

"I've got to be back in Montana soon, you know where i'm from not Texas."

Leah stopped in front of you, her smile widening. "Leaving? The party's just getting started!" She gestured to her teammates, who had now caught up and were looking at you with curious smiles. "Guys, this is my friend, uh…" she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

"Y/n" you supplied quickly, feeling your cheeks flush.

"Right, this is Texas, and this is Mitch. They came to watch the game."

"It was a great game," one of Leah's teammates, a girl with a different coloured, jersey and a mischievous glint in her eyes, said. "You guys brought us good luck."

"Yeah, especially when you took your hat off," another teammate teased, nudging the first girl playfully.

You felt your face heat up even more at the mention of the hat. You glanced down at it, clutched in your hand.

Leah laughed, putting a hand on your arm. "Don't mind them," she said. "They're just messing with you. So," she continued, turning her attention back to you, "we're going out to celebrate. You guys wanna come?"

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. You glanced at Mitch, who was practically bouncing with excitement. You looked back at Leah, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm.

"I…" you started, then hesitated. You were still feeling out of place, still unsure of yourself in this unfamiliar environment. But there was something about Leah's open and welcoming demeanor that made you want to say yes.

"Come on," Leah urged, her smile infectious. "It'll be fun. We can talk about… well, anything but football, if you want." She winked.

You took a deep breath, pushing down your lingering doubts. "Alright," you said, a small smile finally spreading across your own face. "We'll come."

A cheer erupted from Leah's teammates, and you couldn't help but laugh. You looked at Mitch, who gave you a thumbs-up. You looked back at Leah, whose eyes were shining with excitement.

You wait kicking your boot into the ground impatiently for the girls to finish getting ready freezing as you feel your hat being pulled off your head.

Leah laughs "Can I try it on." You stutter to answer "I-eh-i" Mitch snatches it out of the England captains hand "Only if you plan on sleeping with her."

The air crackled with a sudden tension. The playful atmosphere shifted, a subtle undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place rippling through the group. Leah’s hand, which had been reaching for the hat, froze mid-air. Her eyes flicked from the hat in Mitch’s grasp to your face, a flicker of surprise, then something akin to… amusement?

Mitch, oblivious to the change in the air, grinned, holding the hat just out of Leah’s reach. “Only if you plan on sleeping with her,” he repeated, his tone light and teasing. But the words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

You felt your stomach drop. You shot Mitch a warning glare, a silent plea to drop it. This wasn't the time, this wasn't the place, and certainly not in front of Leah's teammates. You could feel your face burning, a blush creeping up your neck. You weren't used to this kind of open flirtation, especially not directed at you.

Leah, however, surprised you. Instead of recoiling or getting offended, a slow smile spread across her face. She tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with a playful challenge. “Is that how it works in Montana?” she asked, her voice smooth and teasing, a hint of a British accent coloring her words. “Hats as a pre-requisite for… companionship?”

The other girls erupted in giggles, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. Mitch, finally realizing he might have overstepped, lowered the hat slightly, a sheepish grin replacing his earlier bravado.

“Nah, I just… didn’t want you to mess up your hair,” he mumbled, offering the hat to Leah. He shot you an apologetic glance, a silent promise to explain later.

Leah took the hat, her fingers brushing against Mitch’s as she did so. She placed it carefully on her head, tilting the brim at a jaunty angle. She looked at you, a playful glint in her eyes. “How do I look?”

You couldn't help but smile. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Leah handled it with grace and humor. She looked… surprisingly good in your hat. The worn leather and dusty brim contrasted sharply with her bright, athletic appearance, but somehow, it worked.

“Like you’re about to ride a bull,” you said, your voice a little rougher than you intended.

Leah laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made your chest feel tight. “Is that a good thing?”

“Depends on if you can stay on,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Leah winked. “I’m a quick learner,” she said, adjusting the hat slightly. She turned to her teammates, striking a pose. “Right, ladies? Let’s show these cowboys how we do it in England.”

The girls cheered, their earlier curiosity replaced with genuine excitement. The atmosphere was light and playful again, the awkward moment forgotten.

As they finally headed out, Leah handed your hat back, her fingers lingering on yours for a brief moment. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Texas,” she said, her voice soft.

“Anytime,” you mumbled, your eyes meeting hers. There was a moment of quiet understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the strange little dance that had just taken place.

As you walked towards the restaurant, Mitch clapped you on the back. "See? I told you she liked you."

You shoved him playfully, still processing everything that had just happened. "Shut up," you mumbled, but a small smile played on your lips.

The evening that followed was a whirlwind of laughter, good food, and surprisingly engaging conversation. You found yourself relaxing more and more as the night went on, the initial awkwardness fading into the background. You talked to Leah about everything and nothing – her passion for football, your life on the ranch, the differences between Montana and England, the similarities between rodeos and football matches.

You're so lost in converstation that you don't notice the skeeming going on around you until Millie Bright wraps her arms around you both "To the club."

The declaration hung in the air, thick with the promise of more noise, more people, and more unfamiliar territory. You blinked, momentarily stunned. A club? This was escalating quickly. You glanced at Mitch, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, then at Leah, whose eyes sparkled with mischief.

“A club?” you echoed, your voice laced with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. You weren’t exactly a stranger to bars – you’d frequented your fair share of honky-tonks back home – but a “club” sounded different. Louder. More… intense.

Millie, oblivious to your internal debate, tightened her grip on your arms, pulling you and Leah closer. “Yeah! It’s just down the street. They play great music, and it’s the perfect place to celebrate a win.”

Leah nodded in agreement. “It’ll be fun,” she reassured you, her smile warm and inviting. “You can show us some of those cowboy dance moves I’ve heard so much about.”

You chuckled, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Cowboy dance moves? You weren’t sure if the two-step you occasionally did at the local bar qualified as “cowboy dance moves.”

“I don’t know…” you began, your gaze shifting between Leah and Millie. “I’m not really dressed for…” you gestured down at your jeans and boots, feeling acutely aware of how out of place you looked compared to the other girls, who were dressed in stylish casual wear.

“Nonsense!” Millie exclaimed, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s a casual place. Besides,” she added with a wink, “you look great.”

Leah echoed Millie's sentiment. "You look fine, besides, it'll be a laugh, it's not like we're going to Buckingham Palace."

Before you could protest further, you were being swept along by the group, a tide of laughter and chatter carrying you towards the dimly lit entrance of the club. The bass thumped through the closed doors, a rhythmic pulse that vibrated in your chest.

Inside, the club was a sensory overload. The air was thick with the smell of perfume and sweat, the music was deafening, and the flashing lights created a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors. The space was packed with people, all moving to the beat of the music. You felt a wave of disorientation wash over you, a sudden longing for the wide-open spaces of Montana.

Leah, sensing your discomfort, placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s a bit much at first,” she said, her voice barely audible above the music. “But you’ll get used to it.”

She led you and Mitch towards a quieter corner of the club, near the bar. The dim lighting cast long shadows, creating a sense of intimacy despite the crowded surroundings.

As you settled into a booth, a waitress approached, taking your drink orders. You opted for a simple beer, something familiar to hold onto in this unfamiliar environment.

The conversation flowed easily, fueled by the music and the celebratory atmosphere. You found yourself relaxing more and more, even managing to crack a few jokes that earned you genuine laughs from the group. You even found yourself dancing, albeit awkwardly, when a particularly catchy song came on. Leah, thankfully, was a patient and forgiving dance partner.

As the night wore on, the club grew even more crowded. People danced closer, the music grew louder, and the conversations became more animated. You found yourself drawn into the energy of the place, the collective euphoria of the crowd.

At one point, as you were talking to Leah about the differences between rodeos and football matches, she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. “You know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “I never thought I’d meet a real cowgirl."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “And I never thought I’d find myself an England soccer player,” you replied, your eyes meeting hers.

The music pulsed, a rhythmic heartbeat that vibrated through the floor and into your very bones. The flashing lights painted the room in shifting hues of red, blue, and purple, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. You were surrounded by a sea of bodies, all moving to the same infectious beat. It was a far cry from the quiet nights on the ranch, the vast expanse of the Montana sky stretching overhead. But here, in this crowded, pulsating club, you felt a strange sense of belonging.

Leah’s hand was warm in yours, guiding you through the throng of dancers. She moved with a natural grace, her body swaying to the music with effortless rhythm. You, on the other hand, felt a little more… awkward. Your boots weren’t exactly designed for dancing on a crowded dance floor, and your usual two-step felt out of place amidst the more modern moves on display.

But Leah didn’t seem to mind. She laughed as you stumbled slightly, her hand tightening on yours, pulling you closer. “Just feel the music,” she shouted over the din, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t think too much.”

You took her advice, letting the music wash over you, letting your body move instinctively. You loosened up, the tension in your shoulders easing as you started to find a rhythm of your own. Leah’s presence was a comforting anchor, her laughter and encouragement pushing you to let go of your inhibitions.

As the song reached its crescendo, Leah spun you around, her hand sliding down your arm to rest on your waist. You stumbled slightly, catching yourself on her shoulder. For a brief moment, you were close, your faces inches apart. You could feel her breath on your lips, the scent of her perfume filling your senses.

The world seemed to fade away, the music softening, the crowd blurring into a background hum. It was just you and Leah.

As the song reached its end, Leah leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “I’m glad you came,” she shouts, her voice barely audible above the music.

"I-I didn't think you would." she shouts again her grip on your waist tightening slightly pulling you impossibly closer, "I wouldn't miss this for anything" you shout back your hands resting on the back of her neck.

The world seems to disappear, the bass no longer thumps in your ears and the bodys that crash into you don't bother you anymore as your eyes flick between Leah's eyes and her lips.

You leaned in, drawn by an invisible force, your breath catching in your throat as leah rushes forward knocking your hat slightly.

Her lips were soft, warm, and hesitant at first, then they pressed a little firmer against yours. It was a brief kiss, a stolen moment in the chaos of the club, but it held a depth that surprised you.

When she pulled back, her eyes met yours, a mixture of nervousness and excitement shining in their depths. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, making her even more beautiful in the dim light. You felt your own face flush, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the heat of the club.

Her eyes don't leave yours as her hand reachs pulling the hat of your head and placing it on her own again. You smile unaware of leahs intentions "I'm wearing your hat." she shouts you laugh "I already told you you look good in it." Leah shakes her head "No I'm wearing your hat." You tilit your head in confusion before Leah pulls you into another kiss "Take me home Texas."

The request hung in the air, a potent invitation. You looked at Leah, really looked at her, and saw a vulnerability beneath the playful exterior, a genuine desire that mirrored your own. The initial shock of her boldness gave way to a surge of exhilaration. This wasn’t just a fleeting connection, a drunken kiss in a crowded club. This was something more.

“I’m from Montana,” you corrected gently, a smile playing on your lips.

Leah laughed, a bright, melodic sound that cut through the noise. “Details, details,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Just… take me home.”

218 notes · View notes