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bellaxgiornata · 30 days

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The Devil at Your Window |9: A Hard Problem|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 3.7k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

a/n: Finally some spice has entered the story with our naughty, naughty Devil. Bad, Matt, you shouldn't be doing that! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza @cloudroomblog @babygirlmurdock @writtenbyred @idontevenknow1359 @scriptedmoon @sarraa-26 @barnes21cz @loves0phelia @3sriracha @kmc1989 @midnightramble @marissamejia19

Chewing your nail, you stared down at the screen on your phone. You were currently on your lunch break mindlessly scrolling through The Bulletin's website for news updates in the city while you sat in the break room eating the lunch you'd brought from home. But when you'd almost immediately stumbled on a photo of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on their website, you'd paused mid-bite of your sandwich.

It had been over a week since he'd last stopped by your apartment. He'd even frequented your Devil’s Pantry far less than usual during that time. You'd thought that maybe he just hadn't been going out as often at night, possibly taking a break or recovering from an injury. Because in the past when you hadn't seen him much over a period of time, he at least still stopped by and grabbed some water and protein bars or packets of trail mix from the container you left out for him. But now sitting here and seeing this article on The Bulletin's website was proof to you that he wasn't sitting at home–wherever that was for him–and that he had in fact been out and active in Hell’s Kitchen this week.

The title of the article had read ‘Masked Man Strikes Again,’ but you had barely managed to read the first few paragraphs before you'd scrolled back up to the poor quality photograph. You'd enlarged it on your phone, setting your sandwich down as the quality of the picture became worse when the image doubled in size. The index finger of your left hand lightly trailed along the line of his mask on his face, your heart sinking in your chest.

You probably shouldn't have pushed your luck with him last week. Trying to further rile him up by talking about the date and the kiss with Dylan had in hindsight been a bad idea. You were certain now that the Devil had been keeping his distance from you because he thought you were seeing someone. Clearly this photograph of him slinking into an alley sometime in the past few days was proof of that since he was still lurking around the city at night. It meant that he was still going out, he just didn't want to see you.

Sighing at the realization, you exited out of the website and locked your phone before tossing the device hopelessly down onto the table. Burying your face into the palm of your hands, you wished you could scream into them. The Devil’s visits had been a welcome distraction from your mundane life ever since he'd fallen onto your fire escape. Wondering when he'd appear at your window next each day had been something to look forward to, as pathetic as that sounded. Now you might not even have that anymore. Would you ever find him standing on your fire escape again? Or was he just permanently done with you?

As you sat there with your face in your hands, you began doing what you'd been doing all week–imagining things had gone differently the last time you’d seen the Devil. You should have openly flirted with him more, or maybe even just flat out confessed your stupid crush to him. On the slight chance that he genuinely liked you–which would explain the jealousy–at least he would have finally known the truth. Maybe he would've returned to your window by now.

It also didn't help that the image of his perfect ass was now permanently ingrained in your mind after that last visit. Shamefully you'd recalled it a few different times this week already when you'd been in your bed missing him. With his absence these past few days, you'd been thinking about him at night more frequently than usual, finding yourself unable to resist touching yourself to thoughts of him when you lay awake in bed.

Shifting awkwardly on your chair as a burst of heat suddenly awoke inside of you at those thoughts, you tried to push them back as they threatened to take over even now. You felt pathetic sitting there knowing that it took hardly anything to get you wound up when it came to him, but now was certainly not the place to be thinking about the Devil. Not like that. Even though each time you got off to your growing fantasies of him, you only wound up feeling worse afterwards. Especially knowing what you now had just discovered–that he was still going out at night and intentionally avoiding you.

All you wanted was for him to just come back to your window.

Matt had tried to avoid your apartment tonight like he'd done every other night that he'd been out this week, but somehow he'd found himself on top of your building anyway.

He knew he should go. You'd made it clear that you were seeing someone. He shouldn't keep showing up and flirting with you just to get a rise out of you. If you were on your way to developing a relationship with someone then he knew he should respect that.

But your absence from his nights out this week had him realizing just how much he'd grown to miss his banter with you. You always managed to make his bleak nights brighter and to say something surprising that kept him on his toes. He even missed the way you reacted just at the sight of him every single time he appeared at your window. Something about the way your heart skipped a beat before hammering in your chest as your pheromones went into overdrive in turn sent him into a frenzy–internally, of course. Because he wasn't going to ever actually act on his attraction to you.

Not that he could now since you were with that guy.

As he paced his way over to the edge of the building so he could drop down onto your fire escape, he told himself that he'd just stop by to see if you were even still leaving food and water out for him. If you were still filling the Devil’s Pantry, it'd be rude of him not to partake.

The only reason he'd even allowed himself to stop by your fire escape tonight was also because he knew it was late. On his way over, he’d overheard a conversation where someone had mentioned that it was just after one in the morning. Considering you had work tomorrow, Matt knew you'd already be asleep. There was no risk of you catching him outside your window tonight.

Landing with a soft thump on your fire escape, Matt remained in a crouch as he threw his senses into your apartment just to confirm what he’d already suspected. Rising to his full height as he picked up on your heart, he'd curiously noticed that it was beating faster than it should have been if you were asleep, which was strange since he'd caught the sound coming from your bedroom along with the faint rustling of your sheets. Which meant you were in bed right now. Had you woken in the middle of the night then? Or were you just struggling to fall asleep tonight?

Carefully he took two quiet steps closer to your window, trying to remain undetected as he attempted to figure out why you were awake so late tonight. But just as the toe of his boot met the side of the Devil’s Pantry that you had in fact left out for him beside your window, he heard a low buzzing sound while simultaneously being hit with the overwhelming and tantalizing scent of your arousal. The smell of it had momentarily struck him dumb as he stood outside on your fire escape, your shallow breaths suddenly loud in his ears.

That's when he realized what he'd stumbled on.

You were indeed in your bed right now–masturbating. He could hear the soft, wet sounds of your fingers methodically pumping in and out of yourself as he placed the faint buzzing noise as your vibrator. Unintentionally focusing closer on you inside, his senses quickly became overwhelmed by the shifting of your sheets as your body writhed along your mattress, the faint sheen of your sweat mingling with the sweet, siren call of your cunt even past the glass.

Stumbling a step back from your window, Matt roughly shook his head as he tried to clear his senses. He should not be listening to this. Especially because you were probably in there thinking about that guy right now. Grinding his teeth in irritation, Matt tried to focus on the sounds of anything else in the city right now–police sirens in the distance, a drunken fight two blocks away, an infomercial on the television two floors down–

Your soft moan tore through all the noise, somehow louder than all the rest. Matt felt his cock stirring further awake in his too tight pants.

“No,” Matt growled, sharply shaking his head again as he spun around on your fire escape. “Not like this.”

Trying to ignore the burning ache now growing between his thighs, he gripped the railing of your fire escape in both of his gloved hands. Shutting his senses off to the sounds of you inside of your apartment behind him, he flung himself over the side of the railing. He dropped down a couple of floors below onto another fire escape, his jaw tensing at the impact. But it didn’t help that the faint jolt when he’d landed had sent a tinge of pleasure through his thighs and straight up his spine.

With a frustrated snarl, he tried to focus on anything else right now. Someone in the building next door was watching what sounded like an action movie, the sounds of screaming and explosions a helpful distraction. Keeping his attention on the movie as he attempted to place what it might’ve been, he once more threw himself over the side of this fire escape as he continued his descent down the building until he reached the pavement. But as he’d tried to catch his balance on that last drop, his concentration broke and your shallow breaths once more filled his ears.

“Mmmph,” he heard you whimper a few floors above. “Fuck.”

The quiet curse had sounded as loud as if you’d whispered it straight into his own ear. Matt’s eyes snapped shut as he tried hard not to imagine the feel of your lips pressed to the shell of it as you’d spoken. Ducking around the corner of your building and into the nearby alley, your heavy breathing continued to plague Matt’s hearing.

Roughly he slammed a gloved fist against the brick wall beside himself, an aggravated roar barreling forth from his chest as he fought to tune you back out. He felt like every other sound of Hell’s Kitchen was slipping through his grasp right now. He couldn’t manage to hold onto anything else for long enough to keep you out of his head, the sounds from your bedroom steadily growing louder and louder in his ears. The strain in his pants was becoming more and more urgent and unbearable with every ragged breath and soft squelch of your fingers.

Part of him was desperate to turn around and climb back up the building to your fire escape and find out if your window was still left unlocked. He wanted to throw it open and let the essence of your desire that was so clearly permeating the air seep into his very skin. He wanted to stalk into your bedroom and tear the sheets off of your partially naked body and hear your startled gasp. Then he wanted to attach his mouth to the places your vibrator was currently touching, desperate to hear the sounds you’d make when he brought you right to the brink. He wanted to feel the tremble in your thighs when they clamped tight around his face just before you came on his mouth.

He wanted his fill of you. He wanted to take you from that asshole. Claim you as the Devil’s and show you how much better he was. How much better he could make you feel. How much louder he could make you scream and how many more orgasms he could give you. You’d never remember another name but the Devil’s when he was through with you.

Teeth clenched together, Matt once more slammed his fist into the brick beside himself and tried to focus on the throbbing in his knuckles instead of in his pants. His other hand rose up, running across his mouth in frustration. He was so ridiculously hard right now. Standing there in the alley, he felt his cock straining miserably against the confines of his already too-tight pants. It was uncomfortable, and the sounds of your breaths coming in even faster and sharper from above were only making things worse.

He should never have stopped by your damn apartment tonight.

He’d already been planning to head back to his apartment after yours to begin with, but now his desire to get back home had reached levels of utter desperation. There was no way he was going to be able to ignore the need for you now. He’d have to jerk himself off once he got home–and fast, because your whimpers were beginning to draw forth beads of pre-cum that were dampening the front of his boxers. If he didn’t make it back home soon, he’d probably lose it in your alley just listening to you fingering yourself.

“This is pathetic,” he snarled to himself.

Attempting to pay attention to his surroundings, Matt began to make his way back towards his apartment. Though no matter how much he kept trying to focus on literally anything else–a couple arguing a block over, the chatter of a group of people having a cigarette outside a nearby bar, even the ear piercing sound of a car alarm–your soft moans kept breaking through every other noise in the city. For some horrible reason his senses just refused to ignore you no matter how much he kept trying.

Each step he took as he awkwardly jogged back towards his apartment building was awful. His cock felt damn near ready to rip open the seams of his pants with how hard it had become, and he was aware of how strange his gait was–he'd never had to manage getting back home with an erection before and it felt absolutely embarrassing. Worse than tearing the ass of his pants. Repeatedly he’d fought the urge to reach down and even brush a hand over the hard bulge in his pants, hungry for any sort of stimulation to relieve the throbbing, painful desire that was taking over his every thought. His own breath had started to come in sharp, staccato pants as he made it over to his block across the street from yours, slinking around to the back of his building.

You were thinking about that guy , Matt tried to remind himself in the hopes of increasing his anger instead of his arousal as he began to climb the side of his building, making his way towards the roof. That’s what you were doing right now. Pleasuring yourself to thoughts of some other asshole who had no idea how amazingly selfless and thoughtful you were. Some asshole who didn't know that you liked to add extra chocolate chips to your boxed brownie mixes or how you stress cleaned when you were upset. He had no damn clue that you liked to burn marshmallow scented candles and watch romantic dramas before bed, or that you liked to curl up on your couch with two blankets instead of one.

And right now your mind was conjuring images of that other guy’s face while you vigorously fingered yourself– not his. And he hated that.

Matt's angry thoughts only backfired as the Devil’s fury and frustration only lead to his increased desire to further prove his sexual prowess to you. He kept imagining climbing in through your window instead of making his way back home and pushing you up against the wall before tearing those sweatpants you often wore right down your legs. He'd stuff his fingers deep inside of you until your knees wanted to give out and your moans broke off on sharp gasps. Then he'd bend you over the back of your sofa, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips as he buried his cock into you over and over while your hands uselessly clawed at the fabric of your couch for something to hold onto.

“Yesyesyesyesyes-”

Matt’s hand briefly lost its grip on the side of the building as the sound of you about to cum slammed into his ears. He’d momentarily slipped, catching himself at the last moment before he could actually fall down two floors and land painfully on his back.

“Shit,” he cursed.

If he didn’t focus, he’d end up not only cumming in his pants on the side of his building, but probably landing unconscious on someone’s fire escape right afterwards. And for obvious reasons, he didn’t need that to happen.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Matt tried hard to focus on something else. He noticed that someone in a nearby apartment on the fourth floor had burnt chicken in their oven only a couple of hours ago. It smelled so terrible that he could smell it even from outside, the scent practically burning his nostrils. Trying to stay focused on that, Matt finished climbing his way up to the roof. But as he'd pulled himself up and over onto the top of the building, he'd bumped himself against the concrete and let out a sharp groan of pleasure and pain.

In his momentary distraction, he once more could hear you from across the street, your growing whimpers only somewhat muffled by the distance, but they hadn't remotely lost their effect on him. Practically limping towards the roof access door that led back to his apartment, Matt finally caved. One gloved hand landed straight onto the bulge in his pants.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he hissed out.

He was so wound up that the slight pressure over his pants already had him about ready to cum. Hurrying faster towards the door, he sharply flung it open and darted inside his apartment. He'd had his pants unbuckled and his zipper undone before the door had even shut behind himself. Not even taking the time to make his way down the stairs to his living room, Matt's gloved hands shoved his pants and his boxers midway down his thighs, his hard cock springing forth in relief before he began frantically tugging at his gloves.

“Oh fuck-shit-yesyesyes-”

“He'd never fuck you like I could,” Matt caught himself growling at you, tossing his gloves to the floor before wrapping a hand around his freed cock. “Promise you that, angel. I'd–oh fuck– ”

A strangled groan flew out of his throat as he pumped himself into his hand just once, your building high-pitched whimpers already easily dragging him along towards an orgasm with you. He felt perverse for what he was doing right now, aware it was wrong, but he couldn't seem to stop. He’d already tried so hard to ignore you that now he’d just given in, his hand vigorously stroking his aching and overstimulated cock.

“I'd make you feel ten times better than he ever could,” he ground out through teeth, his hips bucking forward into his hand in punctuation with his words. “I'd –ahh shit– make you–feel–sogoddamngood. ”

He heard your sharp gasp which was soon followed by the noise of something like a moan mixed with a broken whimper, the delicious noise sounding as if you'd just finally cum. Anger and need simultaneously mingling together inside of him like an all consuming fire, his toes curling inside of his boots, Matt felt that distinct surge of his own release racing up his spine as he continued to fuck his hand.

“He–can’t–have you !” he roared into the room.

Warm, thick strands of his cum spilled forth, coating Matt's hand as he continued to work himself through his release. His breath was coming in rough, ragged pants now as he leant up against the wall nearby, entirely spent from the release and having tried so hard to block you out. Thankfully now the sound of you in your bedroom was no longer easy for him to hear, but the reason as to why he hadn’t been able to tune that particular private moment of yours out still eluded him.

Throwing his head back against the wall behind himself, Matt let out a frustrated groan. Not only should none of that have just happened, but now he had to face the very real fact of what he'd been denying for awhile. He was attracted to you and he wanted you. Badly. But you weren't available anymore, and even if you were, he highly doubted you were the type to get intimate with a masked man you knew nothing about. You didn't seem like the no-strings-attached-sex type. Though Matt also knew that wasn't a good idea anyway. That would not happen, he wouldn't let it.

Still trying to catch his breath, Matt reached up and tore the mask from off his head with his clean hand. Balling the fabric into his fist, he let out an irritated grunt for a different reason now. He wanted you but he was aware that he'd never be able to have you in any physical way because you could never know who he actually was. There was no way he’d ever reveal his real identity to you, and it wasn’t right for him to act on any of his desires when you knew nothing about him. Besides, he reminded himself bitterly, you were still with that guy .

Matt expelled a long, sharp breath in frustration. He knew after what had just happened that he'd also have to keep avoiding your place. Because he wasn't sure he could just stick to the teasing banter with you after what he’d just done, not with the things he was aching to do to you still running through his mind. He’d just have to keep trying to avoid you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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lilywastaken · 2 years

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⇝ shadow .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART TWO OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: All Simon wants is to explain his disappearance to you, but he can't really expect you to be willing to listen.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Mentions of NSFW, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications, Soft!Dad!Simon.

A/N: Second chapter!! Almost exactly a week after the first one LMAO. No smut in this one, I'm afraid, but some very fluffy moments between Simon and Tommy! <333 Once again, please reblog and comment if you enjoy this, it helps a lot!!!

WORD COUNT: 10k.

MASTERLIST.

Also on Ao3!

You were pretty sure your fingers were about to snap.

The grip you had on the door could rival that of a professional arm wrestler, your whole body stiff and frozen in place as your gaze locked onto Simon's.

Was it even Simon? His eyes didn't hold the same warmth it had the last time you'd seen him, his body wasn't as relaxed as it had felt beneath your touch, his whole frame covered in dark clothing that left his eyes as the only source of light that shone through that shadow of a man.

Well, you couldn't even consider them that, his blue orbs lacked that speck of light you'd grown accustomed to seeing in your son's; it left him looking like a ghost, a shell of a man. But maybe that was appropriate, he never did look like the kind of bloke you'd expect to be kind or sweet, he suited more the idea of a cold, ruthless man that had abandoned you and your son.

Even after having spent a night in his arms, felt the touch of his lips on your skin, memorised the feeling of his cock inside of you; he was still a stranger to you, a man you had idolised so much during the first days after your encounter that he had begun to form into someone completely different in your mind.

And now that he was in front of you, you knew. This wasn't the Simon from your dreams that held you in his arms, the Simon from your dreams that pressed kisses to your swollen belly whenever the baby would kick, the Simon from your dreams that hadn't left.

It was like a slap in the face.

One that brought you back to reality, that flushed away any daydream or idealised version you had of him from your mind, and forced you to focus on the man standing in front of you.

"You-"

"Did you keep it?"

As if you'd been sucker punched right in the gut, you felt the air leave your lungs, the words you had intended to speak sitting on the tip of your tongue like the bitter taste of black tea.

"It? Wh-"

"Him. Our son."

Our son.

It was funny, how he'd managed to say the two simple words that immediately made your blood boil in rage, tears forming at the corner of your eyes out of frustration as.

"Oh, so he's our son now?" You willed yourself to keep calm, but you couldn't help how your voice wavered when you spoke, this whole situation baring to be too much to handle along with your already declining mental state. "You didn't seem very interested before."

"I was gone."

"Oh, trust me, I know." You snarled, your harsh tone causing him to look away from you, whether it was in shock or fear, you didn't care. At least you couldn't feel small beneath his stare if he wasn't looking. "How long has it fucking been, Simon? A year. 9 months carrying your child and 3 months raising him. You have no fucking right to come knocking now and asking to see him."

"You don't understa-"

"I don't need to fucking understand, Simon!" You cried out, your voice ringing down the hall and in Ghost's ears, "I was alone! I am alone! I went through a terrifying pregnancy on my own because you couldn't bother to pick up the goddamn phone! Where were you when I needed you!? Where were you when the doctor told me that the birth might leave irreparable damage on my body!? Where were you when I almost lost him!?"

Silence filled the building, dull ringing in Ghost's ears from how loud you'd shouted, his gaze shifting up from the floor to you, his heart skipping a beat at your dishevelled state, your flushed face and tear stained cheeks, the hand that had been resting on the door now clenching your shirt right above your heart, as if the simple act of talking to him pained you to no end.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Simon. Sorry doesn't make up for this past year, for all the fucking pain I went through while you were, what, ignoring me the whole time!? Waiting until an 'acceptable' time to show up and fucking demand to see him!?"

"I'm not demanding." You flinched as one of his hands came to slam onto the top of the door that separated the both of you, his hand clenching around the wood hard enough to break it, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could. "I'm asking. I'm asking to see him, for you to let me explain why I was gone."

Your lower lip quivered at the way he spoke, so calm and composed compared to you, who'd let your emotions take control of your words and had just

"I don't know what you went through. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand. And.. I'm, I'm sorry, that you were forced to go through it alone," The apology that slipped through his lips sounded almost forced, like it was his first time hearing and speaking the words out of his mouth. "I'm not here just to see him. I'm here because you deserve an explanation on why I wasn't here. And I know it won't take away the pain, but I ho-"

The door slammed shut.

Ghost was left outside of your apartment, hand still testing on the flimsy wood of your door, staring at the point where your eyes had been mere seconds ago.

You'd closed the door on him.

You'd ripped any chances he'd had of seeing his son and explaining himself to you in half.

He'd gone through his speech for hours in the car, making sure that he wouldn't come off as rude or mean to you, that everything was explained slowly and coherently, but you'd just… Closed the door on him.

It was a funny sight, really. A giant of a man standing in the corridor of a beat down building in the middle of Manchester, outwardly looking like a kicked puppy if it weren't for the fire that was burning inside of him, bubbling beneath his skin as he got the urge to rip the whole fucking door off just so would fucking listen to-

The door opened again, properly, this time. No little gap where he could barely see your full body, where you were able to hide from him in fear that he'd do something disastrous like he'd just been thinking of.

You were letting him in.

That much was obvious, by the way your shaking frame was glued to the wall of the small corridor, allowing him space to cross through into the apartment he'd spent the night in a year ago.

No words had to be spoken, the reluctant look on your face telling him more than enough.

The few steps he took to enter your apartment felt like crossing a border to another world, one that he couldn't recognise as much as he tried to think back to the last time he'd been there.

Everything had changed. The wallpaper with the flowers that reminded him of his grandma's old home had been striped, replaced with a more cool paint over; the dingy sofa where he'd ripped your tights open was replaced with a much more softer and plush looking model, one that could no doubt be pulled into a bed; the bookshelf he'd gotten the sticky notes from had been ridden of many of the books that had littered it, replaced with children's books and a few pictures, baby toys strewn across the floor in front of it.

It felt like a whole different place than what he remembered. He didn't know what he had expected, for you to have a child and for nothing to change? He was aware of the chaos that a child brought, remembering how annoyed he himself had been as everything started to change around him when his brother had been born, the need it brought to rearrange the whole house to accommodate the baby and not have any dangerous items lying around.

Ghost made a mental note to himself as he picked up one of the picture frames from next to the small telly to clean up his own house before bringing his son there (if he was even allowed to), recalling the dust and grime that covered the corners of his rooms, the glass shards from the last time he'd drunk and passed out on the sofa littering his floors.

You pushed the door closed behind you both, shaky hands pressing onto the cool wood in an attempt to ground yourself, trying not to focus on the silent yet imposing footsteps of your son's father.

You don't know what possessed you to open the door, to let him into your space, that he'd now taken over like a shadow. He looked so… out of place.

A demon along the angels, a ghost along the living.

His dark clothes contrasted heavily with the bright colours of your son's toys that laid strewn across the floor, with the soft colours your walls were painted in, with the colourful blankets that you'd tried spicing up the sofa with, despite no one being able to appreciate them other than you.

It didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right to have him here, walking around your home like he belonged there, like he'd been there all along. It was wrong.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, like your throat was closing off and preventing any air from reaching your lungs properly. Your nails dug into your own palms as you clenched your hands closed, trying your best to even out your breathing and focus on anything but the impending conversation you'd have to have with him.

You could hear him say something, but your brain was so caught up with trying to stop yourself from spiralling that it didn't even comprehend what he was saying. The balaclava over his face was moving, indicating that he was speaking, but not a single sound was reaching your ears.

Your body was trembling at this point, mouth gasping for air as your throat continued to constrict, your eyes going blurry with tears as you watched him come closer to you, mouth still moving.

"Breathe." Two hard hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor bordering on what you could easily identify as a panic attack, ones that you'd been prone to ever since you gave birth. "Look at me. Breathe."

Simon immediately knew what was happening without even having to look at you.

The laboured breaths that were leaving you were enough to activate the alarms in his head, recognising them immediately. He'd heard them many times before coming from him, his teammates, the people whose heads were pressed against his gun. You were spiralling, falling into the harming grasp of your anxiety and letting it infect your body.

When he got a panic attack, Simon rode through it. The therapist that Price had assigned him a few years ago had advised him to consider doing breathing exercises whenever he showed signs of having one, but during the year he'd seen her and the years to come, not once had he considered doing them. Sometimes, he felt like he deserved to feel like that, like he was suffocating, like his heart was about to be ripped out; for all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on others, he deserved to feel at least a sliver of it.

But the thought of letting you experience that same pain, the same panic, the same hopelessness he felt whenever he'd cave into his depression, it wasn't a good one.

So despite his initial lack of remembrance of the exercises his therapist had offered, he tried his best to talk you through it, hands grasping at your shoulders and squeezing every time he saw you start to slip away back into that pit of anxiety, keeping his eyes on yours through the whole thing, not letting you go until you'd stopped shaking and your breath had become even once again.

You'd been so focused on the anxiety coursing through your veins that you hadn't even realised who was helping you through it, blindlessly following orders and breathing along with him, your brain subconsciously recognising his voice as something to cling onto, to pull you out of your own plunging thoughts.

But as soon as you realised whose eyes you were gazing into, whose hands were holding you down, you panicked again. Your own hands came up to push him away, the action catching him off guard and making him take a few small steps back from you, eyes still fixed on yours.

"Are y-"

"Shut up." You breathed out, interrupting him for what seemed like the 100th time that night, mimicking him and taking a few steps away from him and wrapping your arms over your upper body. "Sit."

Ghost finally tore his stare away from you to look down at the sofa, hesitantly taking the first steps forward like a cat meeting its owner for the first time before finally taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into the plush pillows thanks to his weight and looking around from the new perspective.

"Do you normally have panic attacks?" He spoke up, thankful that you didn't interrupt him this time, voicing his concern.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your fuzzy socks as you thought back to all the times you'd had to go through them on your own sitting at the doctor's office, lying in bed after putting Tommy to sleep, looking at yourself in the mirror after your labour…

Your doctor had warned you about the rollercoaster of emotions your body would go through after giving birth, including the depression many women suffered that unfortunately had affected you too during the first few weeks; but you hadn't expected it to continue until this late.

"...sometimes." You mumbled, hands running up and down your arms as you squirmed beneath his glare. "It's normal. For a lot of women."

He didn't answer, nodding in response instead before turning his head to the side table, where a small picture of a very tiny Tommy sat, his hand itching towards it to take it in properly.

The silence that followed what you could barely call a conversation was unbearable. The tension that hung in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence almost suffocating you as you tried to muster up the courage to speak up if he wasn't going to, despite him having almost broken down your door in order to talk.

"...so? Are you going to explain?"

Simon stayed quiet, the whole speech he'd rehearsed back in his car suddenly fizzing away from his mind like a shooting star in the night sky. He was left with barely an outline of what he wanted to say, a vague idea of everything he'd tried his best to put into words before seeing you.

But actually having you in front of him, sitting on the same sofa he'd once pressed you against, gazing into the eyes he'd once thought so much about before the start of that god awful mission, made every last thread of sanity that remained in him snapped.

He was sure that without the mask he'd look like a fool, mouth slightly open and half lidded slate blue eyes fluttering with every blink, transfixed by the vision that was you, in front of him.

"Look, if you're not even going to fucking talk, you can just go right back out the fu-"

"I can't tell you exactly what happened." You stopped mid-rant, cheeks burning in embarrassment after being the one who was interrupted this time. "My job doesn't allow it."

His job? Was he really blaming everything on his job? What kind of goddamn profession forced you to go radio silent for a whole year?

"What do you work in?"

"..." Simon regarded you with a poignant sheen in his eyes, clearly at odds with deciding what to say, the truth or what he had been taught to recite in a situation like this. "I protect."

Even if he didn't outright say what his vocation was, you could do more than assume.

Protection could mean many things, like working at one of those security alarm companies to working as a bodyguard for some fancy rich guy, but with one look at the man sitting in front of you, you could tell.

And it was terrifying.

You'd assumed he was some type of bodybuilder when you'd first saw him, but as you recalled his tactical steps as he walked you down the street, the way his hand flew to his belt when you'd pass some creepy looking guy, as if he was expecting something to be hanging from there, it all started to click.

You had two options before you. He was either a fucking mercenary or military. And although both options were terrifying on their own, you hoped to whatever god that was looking down on you that it was the latter. You wouldn't know what you'd do with yourself if the father of your sweet baby boy was some type of criminal.

"You protect?" You let out, careful with your words in case you said something that you shouldn't, terrified with the prospect of him getting annoyed or angry now that you had an idea of what he did for a living.

"I protect." He parroted, lifting his hand to shove it into one of the pockets that adorned his jacket, pulling out a slim laminated piece of paper, what you could only assume was some sort of identification. "Here."

You took it hesitantly, flipping it over to scan your eyes over the confusing words that lettered the ID, mostly all words you'd never heard before in your life, but you were smart enough to grasp the concept of it.

"You work in the army?" You question, finger running over his title, repeating his newly discovered last name in your head, cursing at yourself for even thinking of how normal it would sound led by your son's name.

"SAS. Lieutenant. Can't say more than that." His gloved hand came back up to hopefully grab his ID back, but you dodged him, taking a few steps back and flipping it back over so he could see what you were pointing at.

"There's no picture." You finally referred to the black space that filled what was supposed to be a headshot of whichever soldier's ID it was. "How… how do I know this is real?"

You watched the mask move as he furrowed his eyebrows, the hand that had fallen onto his knee now gripped at the cargo pants, his eyes showing the disbelief that shot through his body.

"Y'think I made a fuckin' fake ID?" He grunted out, lifting himself from his spot on the sofa and glowering down at you, who did your best to not stand down almost immediately out of fear of his massive frame. "I don't carry 'round a picture of my face, defeats the whole purpose of my fuckin' mask."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried coming up with some type of rebuttal that would shut him right up, but you ended up once again asking another desperate question.

"That doesn't explain why you were gone."

Silence.

The crickets that sang from downstairs, the sound of the creaking from upstairs with every step one of your neighbours took, the suddenly suffocating feeling of your tiny apartment, everything seemed to increase ten fold with every second that passed.

"I can't tell you much." He leaned his head back, twisting his neck to a side to reveal some of the hair that had grown down to below his chin after a year of not properly shaving, making you look away from what almost seemed like an invasion of privacy.

"Oh, fuck you." You let out an amused scoff, unbelieving that still after everything that had happened in the short amount of time he'd been back, he still refused to say anything. "Go to hell, Simon."

"I was on a fuckin' mission. A long one. I wasn't allowed any devices, like always, so I couldn't get back to you." He looked back at you with a glare that easily rivalled yours, voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, clearly pissed off at how you were acting with him despite having tried to explain himself, but deep down he knew that it was expected from you after what you'd gone through, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed deep down.

"Don't raise your fucking voice at me, I'm not the one who's at blame here, Simon!" You shoved a finger into his stiff chest, doing barely as much 'damage' as you pretended to, but you did your best to get your point across.

"I'm not raising my vo-"

A high pitched cry cut through both of your raising voices, Simon's hand immediately going to his belt out of instinct while you whipped your head in the direction of Tommy's room, wincing in both fatigue and shame for having forgotten about your poor, sensitive to noises baby boy.

You put a finger up before Simon could even get the idea of heading there first, an authoritative glare on your face as you grew 10 times braver now that it came to your son's mood and well-being.

"Stay." You hissed, almost like you were reprimanding a mutt instead of a grown man. "Don't fucking follow me."

Once you were sure you'd gotten the message across, you pulled yourself away from his gaze and quickly entered your son's nursery, cooing and shushing at him as you neared his crib.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, duck, I'm sorry." You whispered, carefully picking up his fidgeting body in your arms and pressing him to your chest, rocking him as gently as you could in your told. "Mommy's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."

His crying didn't cease, only getting louder as you desperately tried to get him to quiet down, terrified of the racket he was no doubt making for the next door neighbours, who'd probably come by tomorrow with some not very nice words.

Your hands were shaking as he still didn't calm down, a shiver running up your spine while goosebumps racked your body as you saw the light that came from the living room be blocked by a large mass of what you could only assume was Simon.

"I told you not to follow." You kept your voice small as he took slow steps towards you, not wanting to agitate Tommy even more than he already was, knowing how enervated you'd be in the morning if that was the case.

"I want to see him."

You bit down on your tongue before you shot out a snappy response, realising that this was not the time nor the place for snarky comments, as much as you wanted Simon to finally get a hint and leave you both alone.

"You haven't even told me his name."

Screwing your eyes closed, you pressed Tommy to your chest a bit tighter, both to calm the two of you down and in an attempt of caging him away from the shadow of a man towering behind you.

"You never asked for it." You felt him stop behind you as you spoke, his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, as if that would finally get you to move so he could see his son.

He stayed silent once again, looking over every single detail in the nursery, from the row of knitted stuffed animals to the plastic fluorescent stars stuck to the ceiling above the crib, eyes trailing over the bookcase that looked a bit too unstable for his liking, the screws too loose to be holding up all that weight properly.

"Did you build these yourself?" Simon watched you turn your head over your shoulder to see what he was referring to, glowering at him crossly as you looked over the furniture.

"Didn't have anyone else to do it, did I?" You snapped, going back to the crying baby in your arms as he continued to look around, gloved fingers running over some of the spines of the books that laid on the shelves, recognising some of them from his own childhood bookshelf.

"You still don't believe me, d'you?"

A beat.

The finalising sound of his footsteps exiting the room made a weight you hadn't realised was pressing on your chest dissipate out of relief, only to come back heavier than ever as he pushed the duffle bag he'd been carrying towards you with his foot.

You looked down at the spilling contents tentatively, almost worried that there was some type of danger in there that would force you to take cover or cower in a corner, but all you found were military pants and clothes, a gun hidden in its holster, and in the hand that slowly appeared in the corner of your vision, dog tags.

"Look." He brought them up closer to your face so you'd be able to see even in the dim lighting that came from the fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling and the small nightlight, the name engraved in it identical to the one you'd found on the ID. And although most IDs were pretty easy to fake, you were pretty sure dog tags like these weren't. They had the SAS' inscription on them along with a few codes and numbers you were too ignorant about the army to understand; but for all you knew, they could be as fake as the ones some men wore as fashion.

Maybe that still wouldn't have been enough, if it weren't for the gun. England was very strict with gun laws, and the only people you'd ever seen handle one were the police and the military. So he'd either gotten one very illegally or was truly who he said he was.

And as much as you wanted it to all be fake, for him to be the random bloke you'd had sex with that had no connections to anything dangerous, you knew it wasn't. It was blatantly obvious now that he'd laid down everything in front of you like a puzzle, he was telling the truth.

And god, how much you hated it. You hated that the so-called excuse he'd used before was close to being set in stone by now, that everything was falling into place.

"They're real. I promise."

His promises meant nothing to you, and he knew that, but he had to try anything he could for you to finally believe him, to pull down the walls you'd built and let him in.

"..." You looked away from him and his outstretched hand, pulling your still weeping baby closer to you as you debated on what to do, mind torn between two headspaces.

A shaky sight left your lips as he finally started to tone down, his small pudgy hands grabbing at your sweater in an attempt to ground himself, to find a smell and feel he knew brought safety.

"...his name's Tommy."

You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse.

"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"

"Why?" It was your turn to repeat what he'd said, turning around fully and allowing him the first proper look at his infant son.

Any feeling of displeasure or uncomfort left Simon's body as his eyes landed on the small boy whose teary eyes were trained on his mother's, soft hands clinging onto her like all hell would break loose if he weren't, pudgy body wrapped up in soft blanket decorated with a tiny duck print, the animal something he'd heard you refer to him as before.

God, he wasn't even listening anymore, too enamoured with the small being that lied in your arms, his hands itching towards him in hopes of taking him in his own.

His stomach sank as you stepped back in tandem with him, shielding Tommy from him like he was a monster.

"I, uhm…" you looked up at him through glassy eyes, clearly having been taken aback by his sudden advance towards you both, ending with you pressed against the wooden crib's side. "I didn't really think about it. It just… felt right. It sounded nice. There isn't really any… meaning behind it, as far as I know."

And that was true, as far as you knew, Tommy was just one of the names you'd underlined in one of the many baby name books your mother had brought over with her. But for Simon, it was oh so much more than that. It brought back memories that he hadn't thought about in a very long time, including those rough times he'd spent cooped up in that godforsaken house trying his best to take care of the only family he had left.

And although he hadn't heard from his brother in a long while, he couldn't help but feel slightly hollow at the simple thought of him, who now unknowingly shared his name with his new nephew.

"...right." Despite everything that was whirling around in his brain, every single memory and doubt he wished he could share without destroying himself inside out, that single word of confirmation was the only thing he could get out.

Tommy let out a whine, small hand tugging at your shirt as he instantly pulled your attention back to him, small body fidgeting in your hold in a way that would make you drop him if you weren't used to his urge to not stay still.

"Yeah, I get it, duck." You said, balancing him carefully in the crook of one of your arms before picking up the half-empty bottle you'd placed next to the crib, knowing he'd wake up within the little time the milk could sit out and demand to be fed with his startling cries. "It's here, don't worry. You're not going to starve."

Simon watched from the shadows as your son immediately latched on to the bottle, acting like he'd been starved for over a week, when his last feeding session had been barely an hour ago.

"He's very greedy." You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but looked up at Simon as he let out a humoured exhale.

"Most babies are." He said, remembering how needy his own little brother was when it came to feeding, whining and screaming until everyone in the house had woken up.

Silence fell upon the room, the only conceivable sound in the house being the sound of Tommy drinking and the soft jingle of the crib mobile whenever a soft gust of wind came through the parted window.

For the first time in the hour Simon had been back in your life, you felt calm. Your heartbeat had come down to a normal rate, your body had stopped jolting and shaking every now and then, and there was a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched your son cling to the bottle in your hands.

Even Simon's presence had stopped putting you on edge, since now he was just silently gazing down at his son, who's eyes were fixed back on his father's, almost like they were both having a staring contest, and it was unclear who was about to win.

Tommy normally bursted into tears when he was near a stranger, too many new scents and sounds around him since he was used to the calmer and soother environment that was his nursery, so apart from the short strolls you'd take down the streets, he barely went out with you, and when he did, he didn't get to met many new people. You remember how embarrassed you'd been when one of your neighbours had come by to help with fixing a light and Tommy had started bawling at the mere sight of the unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.

So it was a bittersweet surprise when you realised he must've taken an instinctual liking to his father, despite not properly having the brain capacity to regard him as such, and although you'd have plenty of time to go over that later, for now, you were relieved that he hadn't turned to wailing as loud as he could and bursting all three of your eardrums (although if Simon did work in what he said he did, you were sure he'd be used to loud noises by now).

"How d'you pay for all this?"

"What?" You said, the calm expression that had graced your face quickly forming back into the pissed one he'd gotten so used to seeing in the past hour, the innocent yet aggravating question instantly spoiling your mood. "What do you fu- what do you mean?"

"The furniture, the clothes, the nappies." He nodded towards every single thing he listed, only adding onto your annoyance even more. "Where d'you work?"

You snapped your head down to Tommy in order to avoid his damaging questions, meeting the cute scene of your son fast asleep, probably having passed out after such a long staring contest with his dad and finally having a full belly. You ignored the weight of your impending answer as you placed him down carefully back into his crib, letting his chubby cling onto your fingers for a bit before slowly wrenching his grip off, turning back around to his father.

"I don't work. Not anymore." You kept your voice hushed, picking up the empty baby bottle along with a bag of dirty nappies, standing next to the doorway until he got the memo to walk out before you. "Got fired from the bar cause I was too distracted and I messed a lot of things up…. Had to use my savings to pay for everything during my pregnancy."

He watched you walk around the kitchen and put everything away like it was routine, like it was some sort of art that you'd perfected, while thinking over the information he'd just received from you.

He felt horrible. The mere thought of you, pregnant and alone with no job able to support you, working on the crib and nursery on your own was enough to tear his cold heart in two. And he didn't even want to think about how much money you had left, which by the sight of the very expensive-looking cot and all the toys that laid strewn across the bedroom floor, wasn't much.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto one of the walls and thought about the next words that were going to leave his mouth, the next words that would either end up with you both growing closer together or you continuing to push him away.

"Let me help you."

You stopped dead in your tracks while rearranging one of the cupboards, turning around with a look of disbelief painted on your face, beyond bewildered at what he was even starting to proffer.

"Help me?"

Simon had more money than he knew what to do with. Albeit, a small part of it was sent to his brother and his family at the end of every few months, he was still left with a huge amount of money he didn't really know what to spend it on apart from on the bottles of alcohol that littered the floor of his apartment.

But now that he'd learned about his own family, seen the state your flat was in despite you trying to save face by decorating it as much as you could, about as much information as you had given out about your financial situation, he finally knew what to do with all that money that was left over.

"Help you. Financially. Tommy's my son too." Simon raised a gloved hand up as he watched your mouth open, immediately shutting you up like a teacher would a student. "As much as you want to deny it, s'true. And I'm going to help you." His finger landed on the small island counter, accentuating his point with every word he spoke. "Whether you like it or not."

Now, you'd be bellow stupid to even refuse an offer like this (even though he'd made it quite clear it wasn't an offer, more like an insistence), especially since your bank account was quickly reaching negative numbers with every day that passed, not a lot of jobs being open to a new mother who'd either have to take her baby everywhere or leave between shifts to take care of him (and a nanny was of course out of the question, with what money would you pay them?); and pushing aside your still initial distrust towards him, you couldn't say no to him. Both, because he wouldn't let you and because you needed the help, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

Very deep down, you wanted to say no, to push him out of the flat like you should've done when he had first taken a step inside, that he'd had his chance with both Tommy and you and that his bloody stupid excuses weren't going to work… but god, would you have been a moron to even consider letting those words leave your mouth.

You closed the cabinet shut, turning around to face him properly despite the absolute nerves that were coursing through your body, looking out the window across from you instead of at the imposing figure of the man standing before you.

"Simon, I… Look, just…." You tried changing subject, grasping at straws in order to keep yourself from falling to your knees and thanking him for helping you, to break down again like you'd done within the first quarter hour of seeing him again. "...thank you."

He didn't reply, only nodding in response as he turned away from you, letting you stare at his back as he cocked his head to a side to subtly look into Tommy's room, your small baby boy still fast asleep with his clingy hands holding onto one of the many toys you'd placed in there for him to stay entertained with.

"It's, uhm… it's getting quite late." You pointed out as you looked back out the window, rain pattering against your window as another one of England's classic showers hit your city, your arms wrapping around your torso and running your hands up and down the exposed skin. "How about we just… call it a day and talk about it tomorrow?"

Simon grunted, shrugging his shoulders like he really didn't care, but before you had chance to comment on it, he spoke over his shoulder, his head tilted in a way that the shadows curved around the balaclava covering up his face, his blue eyes slightly brighter than when he'd first shown up.

"I've got some stuff to attend to tomorrow." He muttered, nodding towards the duffle bag that he'd brought out with him when you'd both left the nursery, indicating that he wasn't fully finished with work. "It'll be a while 'till I'm able to just sit down with you."

God, you hated how much fear that single sentence struck in you. Like almost the thought of him leaving for more than a day after finally showing up and explaining everything to you was enough to raise up the anxiety that wrapped around your chest and travelled across every single nerve in your system.

So fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself before looking over at the sofa, the new one you'd bough and arranged yourself a few months into your pregnancy, when you were barely showing and could still handle physical work like that; remembering how much the salesman had insisted on that the pullout was the best option for when you had guests over, it was moderately comfy and big enough to fit up to two people.

And Simon kind of… He kind of counted for two people, right? With that bloody stature of his and his darned accentuated muscles you'd been so in awe of that fateful night.

"You can just take the sofa for tonight. Then we can talk in the morning before you leave." Your mouth acted faster than your brain did, but this time, you didn't really feel embarrassed or disappointed in yourself, I mean, it was the logical solution to this sort of problem. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to be in his son's life, so if that was true, you'd have to get used to him being around you, invading the safe space you'd worked so hard to create for you and your son, as much as it tore your body and mind apart thanks to your mixed feelings about him.

"You sure?" He pushed himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning on, getting back to his full height so he could tower over you, glancing at the tiny sofa. "You think I'll fit?"

"It pulls out." Unlike you. "You'll fit."

Once again, it seemed that he couldn't even get the words out to thank you, nodding in response before turning back to look at his sleeping son in the nursery's background. You pushed past him to get to the cupboard that sat in the corner, rummaging through it for some relatively clean and warm blankets, keeping an ear out just in case decided to walk a bit too close to Tommy, still a bit on edge when it came to him spending time around your son.

"D'you have a balcony I can use?" He cut through the silence, dangling a packet of cigarettes in front of your face to make his advances clear.

Although you weren't a chronic smoker yourself, you had indulged in a cig once in a while, and you knew that it sometimes did help soothe your anxiety or stress, and by the looks of how Simon was fidgeting in his spot and his fingers were clearly itching towards the lighter in his pocket, it was quite clear he was in need of one.

"I don't. Use the window furthest from Tommy's room." You pointed out of the room towards the window you'd been staring out of before. You watched him stroll out, opening up the window and letting in a gust of cold wind in the process, making you speed up your work so you could close the door faster and Tommy wouldn't get a chill.

"You can't smoke around Tommy, you know that, right? If you're really going to be in his life, I'm going to need you to quit while you're here." You commented as you placed down the blankets onto an armchair before moving onto the sofa bed itself, removing some of the cushions before resuming.

"'lright." He muttered between a few inhales of the smoke, his voice much clearer now that he'd pulled his mask up to his nose, letting you gaze upon the beard that had grown over his lower face, something that hadn't been there before. But you assumed that a year-long mission wouldn't really allow you to take time to shave. "Jus' really needed this."

"I get it." You grunted as you grabbed onto the flimsy handle at the bottom and pulled out the second part of the sofa's mattress, almost landing on your behind if it weren't for one of Simon's hands on the small of your back, helping you regain your balance before he went back to taking puffs of his cigarette next to the window.

Soon enough, Simon's cigarette burnt down to a stub, flicking it out the window and down onto the concrete below, turning back around to where you were finishing up what would be his bed tonight, tucking in some of the ends of the sheets and stuffing pillows into covers.

"Here." He spoke, his voice back to being muffled as he pulled the mask back down, taking the pillow from your hands and pushing it into the cover without any effort.

"Pillows might be a bit stiff. These are really old." You didn't even bother thanking him, taking the pillows and fluffing them up to the best of your ability, before propping them up on the armrest. "Do you want to, uhm." You gestured towards the black smudged paint around his eyes. "Clean up?"

"It's fine. I've slept worse."

He started to pull off his jacket, his shirt going with it for a moment and exposing his midriff and happy trail, immediately snapping your head away from the sight.

That's how Simon ended lying on the pretty well made sofa, shoes and jacket discarded next to him with a thin blanket draped over his tired body, balaclava still resting over his face despite being plunged in the darkness that was broken whenever a car passed by outside or by the soft glow of his son's fluorescent stars that decorated his ceiling.

Simon was aware of how long he'd gone without having a good night's sleep, that he should at least try to catch a few minutes of sleep at best, but he couldn't find the energy to even close his eyes. He knew that after such a long and exciting mission his body had to come down from it slowly, taking a few days of getting used to the sudden serenity that enveloped him before he could fully relax and find some sleep.

And so he lied there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to the snores that came from his son's room and the shuffling and incoherent murmurs that came from yours, the constant affirmation that you both were fine enough of a substitute for the sleep he was missing.

And he was… content like that, for a while. Listening to the both of you sleep and tapping his fingers against his chest in an attempt to ground himself and to shove away any unwanted thoughts that would forcibly make their way into his already broken mind.

Until one of the cars outside backfired, a sound Simon had gotten used to after driving all those barely working cars they'd find in the way during missions, producing a sound that echoed throughout the living room, making Simon instinctively flinch, his fingers gripping down on the blanket hard enough to rip it, not having expected to hear a sound so akin to a bomb or a grenade while he was lying down calmly near his newfound family.

Fuck, he was pathetic. It was horrible how such an innocent sound made his instincts go haywire, his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart skip a beat.

But clearly, as Tommy's cries rang out through the flat, he hadn't been the only one to be disturbed.

"Fuck." The blanket pooled down onto the floor next to his discarded clothes, pushing himself off the sofa and passing by your bedroom, where you were still presumably sleeping, your body wriggling beneath the covers as your brain attempted to keep you asleep.

You'd mentioned that Tommy had gone down easily this time, so it was relatively early for yourself to go to bed, and he'd heard you mutter to yourself as you climbed into bed that you were going to enjoy your rest, so staying on the sofa and waiting for you to wake up, was not going to happen, especially after all the trouble he'd gone through with convincing you to let him in Tommy's life.

This was part of being a father, a parent, waking up at ungodly hours of the night to take care of your fussing baby.

He carefully made his way towards Tommy's crib, removing his gloves in order to not scare him with an unknown touch, although he doubted that his calloused fingers would be any better substitute.

"S'alright." He murmured, a finger softly prodding at his chubby belly in order to catch his attention, the boy's wails only getting louder as he caught sight of his father's skulled balaclava. "Oh, fu- Look, hey, look at me."

Without any hesitation, Simon ripped off his mask, his hair getting messed up in the process but he couldn't care less, only focused on getting his son to recognise him as a human man and not the goddamn grim reaper who'd come for him.

Tommy sniffled as he toned down the fussing, blue eyes darting all over his father's face as if committing it to memory, chubby fingers leaning down to grab at the one Simon had woken him up with, and much like he did with any other thing he found lying around, shoved it right in his mouth, drooling around it.

A breathless chuckle escaped Simon's mouth as he watched him roll and fuss around his finger, resting his other arm on the crib and lying his head against it, transfixed with the sight of his small son.

A few tears were still running down his chubby cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down now, Simon's finger acting like some sort of replacement for the pacifier that laid abandoned next to him.

"C'mon. Stop cryin'." He grumbled, pulling his finger out of his grasp and placing his large hands beneath Tommy's small body, carefully picking him up (making sure to support his little head like he'd seen you do) and propping him up in the crook of his arm, letting him squirm around for a bit until he found the perfect position. "You're a wriggly one aren't you?"

As expected, he didn't get any response apart from the thousand yard stare his son looked up at him with, similar to the one he occasionally gave Johnny to watch him freak out. Now that he did look at him closely, he could pinpoint how many features he'd inherited from his father's side, his shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, even the chubby rolls and fingers he remembered seeing in his little brother.

"That's a boy." Tommy's eyes started to droop with every second he spent lying in his father's arms, his tears drying out and coos leaving his mouth instead of the agonising cries. "Feelin' better?"

He blindly walked over to the small chair he'd spotted in the corner of the room when he'd first walked in, grunting like his grandfather did as he sat down, careful to not squish or drop Tommy in the process, his hands tightening around him as the chair slightly reclined, the chair's feature catching him off guard and instantly activating the instinct to protect the small human in his arms that depended on him.

But Tommy didn't even flinch, giggling at the warmth that enveloped him and snuggling further into the blanket and his father's arms in the process, eyes still fixed on the dark paint that adorned his father's.

Finally, after their second staring match of the night, Tommy's eyelids finally closed, losing the battle and falling prey to sleep, something Simon silently wished he could too. Resting him in one arm, he pulled his balaclava back down, feeling a bit too exposed now that the need to have it off had ceased. He leaned his head back on the rest and stared up at the dim glowing stars, focusing on the steady breaths that racked his son's tiny body and the faint feeling of his heartbeat against his arm.

He could… he could really get used to this.

Having such a small thing in his arms, something he was responsible for, something he was supposed to love and care for, a purpose to continue the dangerous life he'd thrusted himself in. He was a father now. And although he knew barely nothing about being one, he'd learn. He hoped it wasn't a one time thing and that Tommy had truly taken a liking to him, that he was going to be able to take at least a bit off the load that you carried by helping in whatever way he could, whether it was bonding with his on or simply financially if that's all you wished of him.

He was a bit too lost in his thoughts as he reclined further in the plush chair, pressing Tommy to his chest so he was half lying on him, half still resting in his arms, a pretty comfortable position for the both of them.

"-mon."

"Simon!"

The blond was jolted awake by a pair of hands shaking him, his immediate instinct being to search around for the baby he remembered falling asleep with, blurry vision darting around to find him cooing and gurgling in your arms, hands latched onto your sleep shirt.

He turned to look out the window while cracking his neck, disoriented and confused about what time it was, the subtle sun rays that shone through the clouds and into the nursery telling him enough.

Had he fallen asleep? Like, actually slept for over an hour without waking up or any disturbances?

"'m sorry." His voice was deeper after a good night's rest, you noted as he rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palm in an attempt to clear the blurriness, choosing to ignore the click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Time?"

"'bout eight." You said, bouncing Tommy in your arms as you nodded towards the clock that hung up above him, eyes darting back down to see him hunched over, hands beneath his balaclava rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and no doubt spreading the face paint everywhere. "Tommy needs to have breakfast so I just assumed you'd want to be woken up as well. But, you're, uhm, welcome to sleep longer, I guess."

"No, I'm fine. I have to get up." Within a second, he was at his feet, Tommy staring up at him in awe as if he were gazing upon a giant, one of his chubby hands leaving your shirt to try and grab onto his, but Simon had left before he could even make first contact.

"You stayed here to talk, remember?" You said snappily at him as you followed, watching him pick up all his stuff. "We should talk."

His shoulders deflated mid tying his boot, a solemn nod in response like even talking to you was a chore, and after the night you'd had the day before, any little irritating thing like that was going to be enough to set you off.

"I want to be a part of Tommy's life. I've made that clear."

"I know. And that's… fine. But we're going to need boundaries."

He sighed, turning around with his other boot dangling from his hand, leaning his side on the wall opposite what had been supposed to be his bed for the night (the horror you'd felt when you saw him gone and your son's door open was unmeasurable), and nodding once again, eyes looking down at you expectantly.

Oh. Right. You were the one speaking.

"Well, for starters… if you really can't tell me more about your job than you already have, I want you to at least keep me updated whenever you leave for work. I.. I don't want any more surprises."

I don't want to feel the way I felt during that year again.

"Alright."

You nodded, pulling Tommy closer as he became enamoured with the necklace that dangled from your neck, trying his mighty best to pull the charm in his mouth as you talked. "And, if you stay over, you take the couch. And not taking Tommy out without me. Until… further notice." You feared you were being a bit too strict with him, but simply reminding yourself that this was in fact, basically a stranger who just happened to father your child, and you'd have to take preventive measures until you were sure that you could leave Tommy alone with him.

Simon ignored the slight pain that stabbed at his heart when you said that, but… it was understandable. You'd been with Tommy longer than him, hell, you'd carried him for a whole 9 months, you had a stronger bond with your son than he had. For both of your safety and his, he'd go along with anything you'd say.

After agreeing with a simple nod and finishing tying up his shoes, he walked up to you both, fingers brushing against your clavicle as he pulled your necklace out of Tommy's mouth, blue eyes fixated on yours. "Send me your bank details later. I'll deposit some money for you both. As much as you need."

He hesitated a few moments before pulling his fingers away, instead running them down Tommy's nose bridge before pulling away, pulling a giggle out of him.

"O-okay."

He nodded, leaning down to zip up his duffle bag before strapping it over his shoulder, jacket in his other arm since it was relatively warm outside for a morning in Manchester. "Text me if y'need anything. I'll answer this time… I promise."

You winced, the subject of his disappearance still a touchy matter despite everything you'd both discussed the night before, but by the way he hesitated before speaking, the way he was awkwardly standing in the main corridor, he was either very obviously lying or telling the truth.

You hoped it was the latter.

"...okay. Goodbye, Simon."

The moment the door opened, the doorbell rang out, making you and Tommy flinch at the loud sound and Simon grumble at being the main victim of the ringer.

Your neighbour was standing there, finger on the bell, furrowed eyebrows glaring up at the intimidating man.

"Good morning?" You poked your head around Simon's large frame, Tommy hiding his face in the crook of your neck as if able to sense the confrontation about to happen. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, no. Sorry, just. I think I speak for everyone in this building that we'd appreciate it if you'd keep that baby o'yours quiet once in a while. Barely gotten any sleep these days 'cause of his bloody crying." He frowned, glaring down at the baby in question, as if he was truly to blame for something he was barely able to control. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, having remembered that you'd already expected this last night when Tommy had burst into tears the first time, and then the second time when you were asleep.

"Right, I'm s-"

"Babies cry." Ghost interrupted, glare fixed on the man in front of you both, hand tightening around the doorframe much like when he'd been trying to convince you to let him in. "Y'can't really help it."

"Well you can shut him up-"

"And we did. Wondering if I'm going to need to do the same to you." He said gruffly, almost puffing his chest out of pride when he saw the man's colour drain from his face. It was a bit of a shitty rebuttal, in hindsight, but when it came from the beast of a man that he was, it was enough to make a grown man like the one in front of him piss his pants. "'m I?"

"N-no, sir."

"Sorted." He watched the neighbour scurry off back into his apartment like a bug of sorts, turning back to you with an amused glint in his normally inexpressive eyes. "Bother you often?"

"Yeah." You said breathlessly, actually impressed with how quickly he'd been able to get rid of him, like your own personal pest exterminator. "Thank you."

"He won't anymore." He stepped out into the hall, sparing you and your son one last glance before awkwardly lifting his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, Tommy immediately trying to reach over to him with a plump hand, fingers flexing as if trying to use the force to pull his dad back.

"He'll be back, duck, don't worry… he's not leaving."

Ghost pressed the button to the elevator, willing himself enough strength to not turn around immediately at the sounds of his soon cooing and whining at him, the soft words you spoke plunging a spear into his cold heart.

He'd be back. He promised.

TAGLIST: @selfassassin @ess-perspective-blog @crazyfandomist @webreathfandoms @warners-wife @prodyng @gaycrystalbitch @warrior-of-justice @uhhely @mentallynot-here @jordanwalkersworld @skepticalleo @bratsukisworld @screamingoverfiction @comedinewithmeyeh @gojosbucket @mikasakuchiki @jonhswife @tea-effect @thelittlejinx @cafesho @daddylorianisastateofmind @63sucker (if your name is in italics it means I couldn't tag you!)

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #cw pregnancy #— ménage

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ivnxrori · 6 months

Text

When Sun and Moon meet MASTERLIST ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

All warnings are displayed in each individual chapter

Season 1 - Water

☾ Prologue ☾ Chapter 1 - Welcome Avatar ☾ Chapter 2 - Encountering the Sun ☾ Chapter 3 - Dangerous Gale ☾ Chapter 4 - New Sacrifices

Season 2 - Earth

҉ Chapter 5 - Trainer Sakari ҉ Chapter 6 - Hidden in Ba Sing Se ҉ Chapter 7 - Refreshing Tea ҉ Chapter 8 - Failed ҉ Chapter 9 - Tied with the Gaang ҉ Chapter 10 - Fraud of the Warriors ҉ Chapter 11 - Trust to Betrayal

Season 3 - Fire

𖤓 Chapter 12 - Ship Attack 𖤓 Chapter 13 - First steps in the Fire Nation 𖤓 Ch 14 𖤓 Ch 15 𖤓 Ch 16 𖤓 Ch 17 𖤓 Ch 18 𖤓 Ch 19 𖤓 Ch 21 𖤓 Ch 22 𖤓 Ch 23 𖤓 Ch 24

Aftermath

⋆ Ch ???

POSTS ONCE EVERY WEEK (AT LEAST I TRY) None of the pictures are made by me This is based off of the avatar the last airbender world s1 s2 s3 potentially will add the legend of Korra sneaks Please do not copy, translate or repost my writing. Reblogging is acceptable My work is ONLY on tumblr and ao3. If anywhere else please inform me. Ao3 link

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ja3yun · 7 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.5

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, confrontation, minhee lovers i am so sorry, no smut this chapter, injury, anything else lmk ch.5 synopsis: life is good for you and sunghoon after you become official, yet, things take a drastic turn very quickly, and you're stuck between love and loyalty. wc: 12k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! so this is where the shit gets real icl. i loved writing this chapter honestly, it holds a place in my heart but tbh, the whole series does. not many warnings or whatever and i don't want to spoil anything here so...enjoy! likes, reblogs, feeback are all welcome as always <3 thank you so much for the support, ilyasm.

As you flip through the pages of your Successful Event Management book, your attention wavers, consumed by thoughts of your boyfriend. Despite your efforts, the words on the pages seem to blur together as your mind dances with images of him. Each time the realisation hits that he's officially yours, you find yourself involuntarily twirling a strand of your hair, unable to contain your giggles or the playful kicks of your feet. It's almost unsettling how deeply he occupies your thoughts, and now that you can call him your man, it's as if the intensity has multiplied tenfold.

Over the past week, Sunghoon has been immersed in training, preparing for Nationals, leaving little time for your usual moments together. But you understand, what with Nationals coming up, he has to be prepared for it. Your understanding doesn’t mean you don’t miss him any less though. This time apart has been the longest you’ve gone without seeing him in the past 4 months and it feels agonisingly long.

It’s just past October and you probably missed him most at Halloween, wishing you could have dressed up with him and gone to Rina’s party together, but he couldn’t cancel the trip to Japan he had. If it were any other schedule, he would have blown it off but everything had already been booked, he just couldn’t get out of it.

You loved your boyfriend's willingness to drop everything for you, even if it was often unnecessary. When you told him you nearly broke your ankle while walking down Rina's stairs in 6 inch heels and a bottle of Pinot in hand, Sunghoon instantly left his training and came to check on you. You told him about the incident so you could both laugh at how stupid you are but he didn’t find anything funny, not until he saw you were okay and giggling with Rina as if nothing had happened.

That’s one thing that’s slightly changed since becoming official, Sunghoon is way more protective of you. Truth be told, he’s always been protective, he can just showcase it more now.

You adored him in every way a person can be adored. All his flaws, all his perfections, he was all yours.

A ping from your phone pauses your idle daydreaming.

My Hoonie ♡

9:10pm: look outside

It’s ominous but you can't resist the pull to glance out the window. Swirling out of your desk chair, you're met with the unexpected sight of Sunghoon, grinning from ear to ear and waving animatedly, as if beckoning you to join him outside.

Why the fuck is he here? He normally texts you to meet him at the corner of the street so he’s out of sight of your family.

Keeping Sunghoon a secret has been surprisingly easy these days, given how rarely you saw Minhee. You sent your brother a play-by-play of what occurred at the ceremony, along with a few pictures, but he hasn't spoken to you since his brief 'Nice' text response. You tried to initiate a few conversations with him about it, asking if anything was bothering him, but he just replied he was busy with training.

He no longer takes you to train with him, but you can't put all the blame on him; you've been telling him you're too tired for weeks to accompany him; he probably just assumed you'd keep saying the same excuse.

You missed him even though he was only across the hallway.

You quickly put on the jumper Sunghoon had given you, grab your phone, and slip on your shoes as you prepare to make a discreet getaway. With your family still inside the house, you turn the front door handle with full caution, making no sound as you sneak out to meet Sunghoon.

"What are you doing here?" you whisper urgently as you greet him.

Sunghoon brings you in for a kiss while his hand cradles the back of your head, answering your question with his actions rather than his words. He missed you, that’s all there was to it.

"Are you free?" he murmurs against your lips, his kisses lingering, "I want to take you on a date."

You pull back slightly, taken aback, "A date? Why all of a sudden?"

"I realised I haven't properly treated you to a date," Sunghoon admits, a tinge of guilt evident in his tone. The ill-timing of officially becoming a couple and his intense training schedule for Nationals made it look like he was putting in no effort now that he had you. He never intended to spend less time with you, it’s just what happened.

You lean back to look at him sceptically, “We’ve been on plenty of dates, Hoonie.”

"Shh, just let me take you out, please?" he playfully feigns annoyance, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Looking back at your home, you consider the options available. On one hand, there's a mountain of tasks awaiting your attention now that the new school year has kicked off. On the other hand, there's the tempting prospect of spending time with your beloved.

Was it even a question?

"Do I need to change?" you ask, casting a critical eye over your attire: his hoodie, some well-worn leggings, and slightly battered shoes—hardly your typical date ensemble. Sunghoon inspects you, pinching your leggings to rub the fabric thoughtfully, “What are you doing?” you ask quizically, raising an eyebrow.

"Just checking the thickness," he replies, turning you around and lifting the hoodie slightly to inspect the material covering your butt. "They'll do," he declares, giving your ass a playful slap to signify the end of his examination. "I have a pair of your other leggings in my car. We could layer," he suggests with a grin.

You don’t have a clue what he’s planning but it can’t be good.

Sunghoon interlocks his fingers with yours and walks you to his car up the end of the street. The air is growing cooler now that it's early November, so all you can do is sigh with happiness as you take your seat in his warm car.

With the early November air turning crisp, you sink into the warmth of his car seat, unable to suppress a contented sigh. Over the past few weeks, Sunghoon has allowed you to personalize the interior of his car to your heart's content.

It started with a simple addition—a plush teddy bear seatbelt cover to cushion the strap that always seemed to bite into you. But it quickly escalated, evolving into a display of your quirks and interests: stickers adorning the glove compartment, a bobblehead of Cinnamoroll dangling from the dashboard with a matching Tuxedosam counterpart on his side, and even a change in the air freshener scent from ocean breeze to peony and cherry blossoms. Each addition is a testament to your bond and the little ways you've woven your lives together.

His life was covered in you, and he has never been happier.

Since the award ceremony, Sunghoon's skating demeanour has noticeably lightened, shedding the weight of perfectionism now that he has your unwavering support echoing in his ears and he knows you mean it because when he glances over to you in the stands, he sees the pride in your eyes. Coach Lee has commented on it a couple of times, saying how his Nationals performance might be his best yet and to keep up the good work. With you by his side, Sunghoon finds joy in skating again, rediscovering the passion that initially drew him to the sport.

"So, where are we headed?" you inquire, fastening your seatbelt and tuning into the radio.

Sunghoon starts the car and pulls away, his hand resting reassuringly on your thigh, "You'll find out soon enough," he replies cryptically. Normally, surprises catch you off guard, leaving you feeling unprepared—an impromptu birthday party is one thing, but this unexpected adventure is an entirely different story.

He chuckles at your attempt to decipher his plans, giving your leg a playful squeeze, "Sweets, I promise I'm not leading you into a cornfield and abandoning you there. You'll enjoy it, I swear."

“A cornfield is so specific, now I don’t trust you at all” you tease, your tone laced with mock suspicion, though there's a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it all.

As the drive progresses, a sense of familiarity settles in, and when the car pulls up at Belmore, you twist in your seat to face him. "Belmore?" you query, eyebrows raised in surprise. His only response is a knowing nod, a roguish smirk playing on his lips.

"Baby, no offence, but watching you train isn't exactly my idea of a romantic date. And if it ever did count, I think we've been on far too many dates for only being together a month," you point out with a playful yet pointed look.

Sunghoon parks the car and switches off the engine, turning to you with a grin, "So, you don't consider our friends-with-benefits phase as being together?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Because technically, we've been together for like four months."

"No, our 'fuck buddy era' definitely doesn't count," you retort, stepping out of the car.

"That's a shame," Sunghoon muses, a playful glint in his eyes. "I had grand plans to whisk you away for our six-month anniversary in January. I guess I'll just have to enjoy Jeju on my own," he shrugs nonchalantly, locking the car before striding towards the main building, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

You quickly fall into step with him, looping your arm in his, a gleam of merriment in your eyes. "Well, I suppose we could round it up to four months," you offer, hoping he was just joking about going himself.

You're not about to let the opportunity for a trip with your man slip through your fingers, even if he's just teasing. You've been dropping hints about wanting to hike Hallasan Mountain and go tangerine picking on Jeju Island so often that he's actually started a 'Jeju Jar' where you contribute money whenever you mention it.

Sunghoon graciously holds the door open for you, and Miss Barbara's cheerful wave as she recognises you only adds to the excitement bubbling within you.

Miss Barbara has been in on your little secret love affair since you made it official, her only bribery she requested to keep it a secret was a bag of Revels on top of her usual Toffee gift.

"Hi, Miss Barbara," you greet her warmly as you approach the reception desk.

"Hello, Y/N, Sunghoon. How are my favorite forbidden lovers?" she exclaims with a twinkle in her eye, settling back in her chair.

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "It's not quite as dramatic as you make it out to be, Miss Barbara," he replies with a good-natured smile, though the receptionist waves off his comment. She's fond of weaving your relationship into a romantic narrative, a tale of two star-crossed lovers defying societal norms to be together. It's a bit over the top, but it gives her something to gush over.

"We're doing well. Is anyone in there?" you inquire, grateful for Miss Barbara's discreet support. With her on your side, it's easier to gauge just how obvious your affection for each other can be. While you don't hide your love in everyday life, at the rink, you're more cautious. The last thing you need is for any of the coaches or, heaven forbid, your families to catch you in a moment of intimacy. That could set you both back to square one.

Keeping it a secret until after Nationals wasn’t just for the benefit of Minhee, but also for your own sanity. If one of your mothers found out, that would be it, you would never hear the end of it.

“Nope, all free. Coach Kim just left and not another soul in sight.” Miss Barbara confirms.

"Thanks, Miss Barbara. This was a spur-of-the-moment thing, so we'll make sure to bring you double sweet treats tomorrow," Sunghoon promises, knowing full well she's eagerly anticipating her goodies.

"Triple and I'll let you in on a little secret," she counters, arms crossed expectantly. Sunghoon nods in agreement, intrigued, "The coaches are planning to bring you and Minhee in tomorrow for peer review and a Nationals run-through, to ensure you're both in top form for the competition in two weeks. It's a new method they want to try to strengthen your connection, especially since you're both going to be on the same Olympic team," she reveals, her tone filled with anticipation.

Your eyes widen in shock as Miss Barbara's words sink in. "Wait, Minhee and the Olympics?" you repeat, the idea sounding both fitting and surreal at the same time.

"Oh yeah, he's been putting in a ton of hours here, especially in the last three weeks. Coach Kim believes he's more than ready," she confirms with a knowing smile, leaning in conspiratorially. "But shh, it's a surprise. The coaches plan to break the news to him when he places in the top three at Nationals."

The news hits you like a wave of emotions. It's beyond perfect - your brother finally achieving his lifelong dream after years of hard work and dedication. A sense of pride and happiness swells within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Suddenly, you get a strange feeling because the more you think about how excited you are for him, you realise Miss Barbara has just said he's here a lot, but you didn't know that. Although you may not have seen him recently, you should be aware that he is spending his time here. You used to know his entire schedule.

“Was my mum here with him?” you inquire, a hint of concern in your voice.

"No, he's usually by himself or with Coach Kim. Didn't he mention it to you? I was wondering why you haven't been with him like usual," Miss Barbara explains, her tone sympathetic.

Sunghoon notices the discontent written across your face, assuming it's because of the impending peer review with Minhee tomorrow morning. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he gently guides you towards the rink. "Thanks for the heads up," he acknowledges gratefully.

As he leads you into the arena, you can feel the excitement draining from your shoulders, leaving you feeling deflated. Sunghoon hates seeing you like this. He wishes he could simply pluck the negative thoughts from your mind and replace them with happiness, but all he can do is offer distraction.

"Sweets, wait here for a minute," he murmurs, planting a kiss atop your head before darting off to the back rooms to fetch some necessary tools for your impromptu date, leaving you to wonder what surprises he has in store.

A few minutes later, Sunghoon returns, his excitement palpable as he practically skips towards you, hands hidden behind his back. The mischievous glint in his eyes sends a shiver of apprehension down your spine, "Sunghoon, what's going on?" you inquire warily.

He stops in front of you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You aren't going to watch me train," he announces, revealing a pair of pristine white ice skates and a deep blue helmet from behind his back, which he then presents to you, "I'm teaching you how to skate."

The look on your face is one of absolute shock. You have already told him how your mum had tried to get you on the ice when you were little and it wasn’t pretty, you can barely walk in the skates never mind glide on the ice. Did he forget this was the one thing you explicitly said you couldn’t and wouldn’t do?

Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Sunghoon's arms drop to his sides, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features. "Come on, it'll be fun! I'm a great teacher," he insists, trying to persuade you. Taking the skates from his hand, you inspect them apprehensively, feeling a surge of fear at the sight of the gleaming blades.

"Look, baby," Sunghoon begins, his voice softening as he places a hand on your shoulder. "You've mentioned how you never took to the ice well, but it occurred to me today that maybe that's because your mum had all these dreams about the Kang siblings dominating the figure skating world. That's a lot of pressure for a seven-year-old. But this... this is just for fun. A simple, free lesson from South Korea's greatest skater who promises to never shout or get impatient with you," he reassures, placing a hand over his heart in a solemn pledge.

It’s true you suppose, there would be no need to feel a weight on your shoulders to be as good as Minhee or have your mum telling you how easy it was and that you just weren’t trying hard enough.

The sparkle in Sunghoon's eyes only adds to your resolve to give this a shot. He wants to share his love for the sport with you, and you can't help but feel touched by his enthusiasm. If he's willing to keep both feet firmly on the ice, then maybe, just maybe, you can brave this adventure.

"Fine, but I'm not jumping under any circumstances," you bargain with a playful glint in your eye. The last thing you want is to end up flat on your back on the ice. If Sunghoon can promise to keep you grounded, then you'll give it a try.

Sunghoon’s face radiates with glee once you accept his date idea, which is good for him because he doesn’t have a backup. He sits you down on the bench and helps you put on the skates, fastening them tightly. He goes over the warnings every skater gets about new skates, and how they need to be broken in so they might nip at the skin. He’s already tried to stretch them out for you by making Wonyoung wear them for a little while when she warmed up.

Once both of your skates are securely laced up, Sunghoon swiftly puts on his own, his familiarity with them evident in his speed. He's had these skates for a year now, and they've never failed him.

"Put your helmet on, babe," he instructs, handing it to you. You look at it with disdain, but he catches your expression and intervenes, "I get that it's not glamorous, but the last thing I need is for you to smash your head open," he reasons, gently placing the helmet on your head and fastening it securely.

"I don't want to fall in the first place!" you protest.

"I will always catch you, I promise," Sunghoon reassures you, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your helmet, as if it were your head. He offers a gentle smile, "Plus, the rink just got Zambonied, and they'll be peeved if you dirty up the nice ice with your blood."

"Sunghoon!" you exclaim, a mix of exasperation and affection in your tone.

______

Seventy minutes into the lesson, and you've only stumbled twice. The first time was when you initially stepped onto the ice, resembling one of those cartoon skits where the character can't find their footing and begins flailing everywhere. The second stumble occurred when you attempted to march in place, a simple task that somehow became a challenge on ice. Despite Sunghoon's assurances that you couldn't fall, you seem determined to prove him wrong, even in moments like these.

Nonetheless, you have made progress. Sunghoon has painstakingly taught you how to forward glide and perform a snowplough stop, which seemed impossible given your previous difficulties on the ice. Granted, he's been hovering only centimetres behind you the entire time, waiting to catch you if you fall, but progress is progress.

Now, he's introducing you to forward swizzles, a manoeuvre with a deceptively cute name that you're convinced spells disaster for you. With Sunghoon's reassuring grip on your arm, he explains the technique. "You're just going to do a forward glide and then kind of push your feet outward and then bring them back in a circular motion. Like this," he demonstrates, making it look effortless.

Of course, he makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the whole world, like using a knife and fork, but he's dealing with a girl who can't even distinguish her left from her right or drive a go-kart without crashing it. This venture into forward swizzles feels like a daunting challenge, but with Sunghoon by your side, you're determined to give it your best shot.

Sunghoon skates to face you, taking both of your hands as you attempt to master the forward swizzles. For the most part, you're actually not too bad at it. But as confidence starts to swell within you, you let go of his hands, only to teeter dangerously on the edge of a fall once more.

True to his word, Sunghoon is there to catch you, his grip firm and reassuring.

Determined to get it right, you take a deep breath, calming your racing heart, and try again. Sunghoon can't help but admire you in this moment. Most people would have thrown in the towel by now, but he knows you're doing this not just for yourself, but for him too. It's a realisation that fills him with a profound sense of affection as he watches you concentrate intently, your tongue sticking out in concentration as you execute a few more forward swizzles with his assistance.

"That's it! My girl is so good at this," he praises, but you shoot him a pointed look. It's not angry; it's more of a silent plea for him to refrain from speaking and distracting you while you're focused. Understanding the cue, Sunghoon promptly stops talking, allowing you to concentrate.

As you cheer and sway joyfully, a surge of euphoria washes over you, you're briefly swept up in the exhilaration of your performance. But the laws of physics are unwavering, and the slippery ice beneath your skates is unforgiving. Without warning you lose your footing and collapse hard onto the ice, your head creating an unnerving thud as it hits the icy surface. Maybe the helmet was a good idea.

"Shit, Y/N!" Sunghoon's voice rings out in panic as he rushes over to you, his expression etched with concern. He kneels beside you, quickly assessing your condition and helping you sit up. Despite the impact, all you can do is laugh. What was once a terrifying prospect - falling on the ice - is now a source of amusement.

"I'm okay," you assure him between fits of laughter, patting the helmet atop your head. "Thank god for this piece of shit helmet, that's all I'm saying." But Sunghoon's expression remains tense, his worry evident, "It's okay, baby, I promise I'm fine. Let's take five, hmm?" you suggest, reaching out to stroke his cheek in a comforting gesture.

Sunghoon nods silently, sitting beside you on the cold ice, both of you ignoring the chill seeping through your clothes. He removes his gloves and places them on your hands, a small but tender gesture that sends a flutter of warmth through your stomach, despite the icy surroundings.

"You're actually pretty good at this, Sweets," Sunghoon compliments, taking your helmet off.

But you brush aside his comment, a question that's been nagging at you for a while now finally bubbling to the surface. "I have a question," you begin, ignoring his compliment. "Why do you call me Sweets? Like, you've called me that since you started skating here."

Sunghoon's face flushes with a deep red blush as he gazes up at the rafters, gathering his thoughts. "I've been calling you that for a lot longer than that," he confesses quietly.

"What do you mean?" you press further, turning your body to face him, curiosity piqued. For all the time you've spent together, you've never questioned the origin of the endearing nickname.

He exhales softly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he begins to reminisce. "Do you remember when you were 14, and you confessed to me with a packet of sweets and a makeshift card?" The memory floods back to you, each detail vivid and clear. "You came up to me at one of the Youth competitions and gave them to me - a packet of Love Hearts, I think.” You want to protest but the more he speaks about it, the more the memory comes back to you.

Back then, you had mustered up all your courage to ask him out after years of secretly admiring him. You knew it was a long shot, considering Sunghoon was the most sought-after skater in the Junior division, but you took the chance anyway. You had even dressed up in your best outfit and attempted makeup—a slick of lip gloss from a teen magazine and a touch of mascara you'd pilfered from your mom's makeup bag.

"You knocked me back!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of offense, "I poured my heart and soul into that card, and you didn't even spare it a glance. I remember now!"

Sunghoon shakes his head defensively, "I did look at it! And I ate the sweets too," he tries to argue back, but the realization only seems to deepen your offense, "Wait, no! I know I said no, but... I had my reasons, okay?"

"Oh yeah, what?" you challenge, shaking your head sassily, eager to hear his explanation.

"I... It doesn't matter, does it? Look who won?" Sunghoon smoothly redirects the conversation back to the present day, "You've got me whipped for you."

You raise an eyebrow, conceding that he does have a point. He is your boyfriend now, albeit five years later than you originally wanted—or eleven years, if you count all the time you spent pining over him as a kid.

"Exactly," you agree, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "If you told fourteen-year-old Y/N Kang that Park Sunghoon would be desperately in love with her now, I think she'd pass out."

Silence.

Deafening silence.

Sunghoon stares down at his skates, eyes wide and mouth dry. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air, catching both of you off guard. He hadn't anticipated the words to spill out so spontaneously, and he's never felt more vulnerable in his life.

Park Sunghoon loves you. He is in love with you.

The arena seemed to vibrate with the weight of his confession, wrapping you both in startled stillness. You can't comprehend it - Sunghoon didn't just say he loved you; he confessed to being desperately in love with you. The enormity of his admission takes your breath away, bringing back memories of your 14-year-old self, who would have had no idea how to deal with such a discovery. Even at 19, the reality of his love has you spinning.

"You love me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from the ice beneath your feet. The words hang in the air, heavy with disbelief and wonder.

Finally, Sunghoon meets your gaze, his own expression a mixture of apprehension and hope. Seeing the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your lips eases some of the tension in his chest. He had thought his love for you was obvious, but he had never found the courage to say it out loud before.

"I do," he affirms, his voice soft but unwavering.

“How long?” you inquire, stealing a glance at him.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, a playful gleam in his eyes as he picks up the helmet and spins it in his hands. “Ah, I can’t tell you that,” he teases, “If I do, you’ll never get your head back in this.” His laughter lightens the mood, but you're not satisfied with his evasive response.

Snatching the helmet from him, you firmly place it back on your head. “See, now you can tell me. It still fits, and there's even a little room,” you declare, shaking your head to demonstrate how loose it is.

Sunghoon reaches over to fasten the helmet again, his laughter mixing with yours. His fingers linger on the strap, tracing it until he reaches your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his gaze. “It's been a long time,” he admits, his voice soft but earnest. The more animated your expression becomes, the more the doubt that lingered in his mind fades away.

You don't hesitate to seize the moment, pouncing on him and knocking him back onto the ice. Your chest presses against his as you pin him down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that steals the air from his lungs. Both of you are grinning like fools, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

But there's still one final piece missing from this perfect moment.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you whisper into his mouth, your words laden with sincerity. You hope he can feel the depth of your feelings, knowing that you're not just saying it out of obligation but because you truly mean it.

“It was me, by the way,” he admits sheepishly, catching your curious gaze. You silently prompt him to continue, which he happily does “The sweets my dad gave you all the time? I asked him to give them to you. You looked so miserable one day that I gave up the packet of Haribos my dad would sneak me. After I saw your face light up, I told him to just keep giving them to you instead.”

Your heart feels like it could burst with joy. Why hadn’t he told you this before when you brought it up at the cafe? “Why did you do that?” you inquire, searching for an explanation.

Sunghoon just shrugs, playing it off, kissing you on your nose to distract you from asking any more questions he wouldn’t be able to answer.

You look at each other and exchange sweet, short kisses on each other's lips. The moment is filled with innocence, and pure love surrounds you. But as the rink's ice starts to seep into your bodies, you both realise that, while the kisses and giggles warm you up, the frostbite on Sunghoon's ass is getting a little too much.

He stands, offering you a hand up, which you gladly accept, trying not to wobble. His lips find yours again within seconds, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over like it's a sacred mantra. Even as he picks you up and spins you around, the words never falter.

Your feet dangle in the air, suspended and untethered, a sensation that terrifies you but this whole situation is. Being in love with someone as deeply as you are with Sunghoon, anyone would find it a little scary - that’s even taking out the impending conversation you’ll need to have with Minhee. You can’t believe someone like Sunghoon is even in love with you a little bit. You counted your blessings every day that he even bothered to spend time with you or ask you to be his girlfriend, this was just surreal.

“We should go, yeah? Especially if I have to show up your brother tomorrow,” he suggests, setting you down gently.

“Sunghoon, be nice to him tomorrow, yeah? Don’t provoke him. This is important for him,” you plead with him, your voice laced with concern. All you want is for Minhee to come out of tomorrow's session feeling confident and ready. If your boyfriend starts to poke fun at him, it'll only serve to undermine Minhee's focus and now that he has a chance to go to the Olympics, he needs to feel confident, not taunted.

Sunghoon follows you as you carefully skate off the rink, back to the security of the grated mats outside. “I’m going to give him the critique he needs, brutal or not,” he says, his tone tinged with frustration. Sitting on the bench, he begins to remove his skates. He knows you don’t mean it to sound this way, but your phrasing made it seem like tomorrow wasn’t as significant for him. A whole run-through of his routine in front of everyone to determine if he's ready for Nationals? That's just as crucial for him as it is for your brother.

Ridding yourself of the devil skates you massage your feet. You have a greater respect for anyone that has to wear them for more than an hour, “And that’s fine, but don’t be a dick about it. This could be our chance to sway his opinion of you and make telling him about us easier.”

“Well, are you going to tell him the same thing? Because he isn’t exactly friendly towards me either,” Sunghoon counters. He can't argue with your logic; building a bridge with your brother would make things easier for you both. However, he isn’t willing to let Minhee berate him without standing up for himself.

You sigh, feeling deflated by the conversation already, wondering why you even brought it up. “Sunghoon, please just be the bigger man here, for me. Can you do that?” you ask, your voice pleading.

Putting his blade guards back on with a forceful gesture, he lets out an exasperated groan. “No. I will do anything for you, Sweets, but I draw the line at letting him walk over me,” he asserts firmly.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” you insist, gently pulling his face to meet yours. “If he’s rude to you, you can defend yourself, but just don’t take it too far or say anything unnecessary, especially about his skating.” The tone in your voice, combined with your touch, begins to soften the tension in his body. He grudges how much of an effect on him, “Please? Because you love me?”

He sticks his tongue into the side of his mouth and swipes it along his inner lip, “Wow, are we playing that card now?” You nod, and a satisfied smile sits smugly on your face. It was a low blow, you know that, but when push comes to shove. Inhaling deeply he agrees reluctantly, “Fine, I will be nice to him. But it’s in no way is it for his benefit, I’m doing it for us.”

You’ll take it. It’s a start and every reconciliation has to start somewhere, “Thank you, baby.” You press a smooch to his cheek and stand up, locating your shoes and putting them on.

Glancing at your phone, you notice it's past 11pm and there are a couple of messages from your mom. She's letting you know that you can't stay at Rina's tonight because Coach has requested Minhee's presence tomorrow morning, and she wants you to be there too. And you want to be there, because right now you feel a little like a shit sibling missing out on his training when it used to be the one activity you looked forward to together.

And he’s been all alone the whole time. What was going on with your mum these days? She would rather die than miss a Minhee schedule, even if it were just practice.

Sunghoon hugs you from behind, reading your messages, “Don’t tell me the witch is cock blocking me?”

That’s the other thing about him being your boyfriend, you’ve started to open up to him a lot more about your relationship with your mum and how thin the bond is. You told him about her moving you out of your old room to make way for Minhee’s trophies, how she made you skip Rina’s birthday to attend a dinner with a potential sponsor when you didn’t even have to be there, and so many other unfortunate occasions.

Sunghoon was seething each time you spoke about her because you’re her daughter, you’re meant to be the joy of her life and it sounds like you’re just an inconvenience. Truthfully, you hadn’t paid much mind to it before you said all your woes with her out loud, but Sunghoon doesn’t see it as casually as you do.

“Guess tomorrow morning is officially happening then,” You say, messaging back a quick ‘okay’ to your mum, “I’m sorry, Hoonie, I can’t come back to yours,” You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as his grip gets tighter around you.

“Sweets, it’s okay. I just wish I got to fuck you good after I proclaimed my undying love for you finally,” he kisses down your neck, “Guess I’ll just need to take you home after I wipe the floor clean of your brother.”

Angrily, you turn around, “Any more of that and you’ll not only not be able to fuck me, you’ll also be single.” You’re not messing about and Sunghoon knows it.

“Sorry,” He winces, rubbing your arms, “Force of habit. I promise tomorrow I will be on my absolute best behaviour!” he kisses you but you don’t kiss him back, still trying to keep your annoyed demeanour. “Aw, c’mon, baby, don’t be like that! I promise skaters honour and all that.”

“You better be, Hoonie,” you warn him, finally giving in and kissing him back once, just to let him think he can’t get away with it that easily, even if he can.

As you walk out of the arena, he follows you, stooping down to whisper, "You're kinda sexy when you're mad like that." You know he's only half-joking, so you don't play into it because if you do, he'll make you angry more often since he knows you aren't able to stay angry. Instead, you say your goodnights to Miss Barbara and make your way to his car.

He’s a piece of work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You love him exactly how he is.

_____________________

Applying the last finishing touches of your makeup, you check yourself out. Today was a big day, so yes it’s a little extreme to get dolled up at 5am on a Wednesday, but you’re seeing Minhee and Sunghoon skate their Nationals routines in full today, so what’s not to be excited about?

If anyone had told you that today you would feel no nervousness about the both of them being so close to one another, you would have told them to pull the next joke out of their ass. There was no way that could happen but it is and Sunghoon promised to try and be civil with your brother. So now all your worries are on them and their skates.

You’ve seen Sunghoon’s routine countless times, so you know what to expect, but Minhee was a whole different story. It still irks your heart that you haven’t seen your brother train, you feel awful, truly. You just need to cheer for him extra loud today.

You grab your tote bag, which has some extra panties since you're spending the night with your sweetheart, and head out of your room. His roommates have joked that you’re moving in since you’ve left so much stuff at his place including a toothbrush, clothes, shampoo and conditioner, and even a spare book to read if you wake up before him in the morning. Not like you meant to, just over time it happened.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear Minhee and your mum whispering about something, but it’s hard to make out the conversation. Carefully tiptoeing towards the kitchen, you hold your breath, trying not to make a noise. They don’t normally whisper, especially not at this hour, so whatever they're discussing must be important.

“I can handle it, Mum, I told you,” Minhee's voice is heavy with sadness. Has he always sounded this despondent, or are you just overthinking?

“Good. I've invested too much for you to Cave now. When we get there, you know what you need to do, right?” What is Minhee supposed to do? Cave doing what? What does he have to do? Skate?

There are so many questions that need answers just by this snippet of conversation. You press your back to the wall of the hallway to make sure you stay hidden, hoping for any sort of clarity.

“Mum, I said I got it.” he snaps back and leaves it there, packing his bag, “Did you let Y/N know about today?”

“About the run-through? Yes, I told her.” your mum pours herself a coffee into her reusable cup.

Minhee rubs his eyes, clearly exhausted. Now that you’re getting a good glimpse of him after a few weeks, he looks a lot thinner and the circles under his eyes are a deeper shade than normal, “I told you not to tell her, she doesn’t need to be a part of this,” he zips his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

Does he not want me to be there for his skates anymore? Is that why he hasn’t invited me?

You can’t make head or tail of the conversation or what they mean, but the last thing you want is for Minhee to shut you out.

“Oh, Y/N there you are,” your mum spots you, foiling your plan to eavesdrop.

At the sound of your name, Minhee tenses, pausing in his tracks for a beat. He was acting so strange, it made you hurt for him. Your brother was so lively and now he looks like a shell of himself.

Putting on a cheerful facade to conceal your concern, you approach Minhee and casually swipe half of the banana from his hand, as you would normally do. If he were his usual self, Minhee would protest loudly, demanding you to get your own fruit. But instead, he simply hands you the rest without a word.

“Both of you hurry up, we need to go,” your mum whooshes past you both and heads for the front door, leaving you and Minhee on your own.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, quiet as a kitten.

Minhee nods his head once and brushes by you, not even glancing at you. The relationship you have with him is now feeling like you’re strangers. You don’t know what spurred this change on but you have a high suspicion it’s because of you.

Obviously, you don’t want it to be, but you haven’t really spent time with him recently or supported him the way you should have. He probably feels neglected, something you never want him to feel.

Taking hold of his wrist you stop him before he exits for the car, “Mini, I’m sorry for not being at your training sessions. Miss Barbara said that you’ve been going to the rink a lot, I should have made it to at least one of those.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I don’t need you there.”

That hurt. A lot.

He finally glances down at you and sees your eyes flash with hurt, “I’ve been going spontaneously, you’ve been busy with school and…Rina. Our schedules don’t fit anymore,” he plays it off but you’re his sister and you know he’s hiding something deeper in his nonchalant words.

Pulling his wrist from your grip, Minhee goes to the car, leaving you a lot more concerned for him than before.

As your mum pulls up to Belmore you see Sunghoon’s car already here. He must be getting in the practice he missed last night because of your date. You would feel guilty about it if it wasn’t his idea.

When the engine stops, there is a weird tension in the air as everyone has gone into covert mode. You want to break the silence but you can’t fathom what to say right now.

"Minhee, I'm feeling good about today, do well," your mother says. Despite her words of positivity, her expression portrays a different mindset, as if she is just saying what she knows she should.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you grin at him, "Do your best, Mini, that's all anyone can ask," He smiles back at you, acknowledging your words. What's strange is that he takes your hand and squeezes it, his eyes fixed on yours. Sibling communication is turned on; you just can't understand what he's saying to you.

Walking into the arena is a completely different vibe from last night, no peace to be found. The coaches are happily chatting about their prodigies; it’s nice to see them getting along considering they were also pushed together through this blending of rinks. You wished the same for Minhee and Sunghoon.

Speaking of Sunghoon, he isn’t anywhere to be seen, he’s not on the ice like you thought he would be.

“Minhee, go get changed, me and your sister will be over there,” your mum points to the same two seats you’ve both occupied for over a decade, “Don’t fuck it up, I’m serious.”

How can she be so harsh?

Minhee simply waves you both off, shoulders slumped. While you watch him retreat to the changing room, you scowl at your mum, a toxic taste in your mouth at how rude she is being. At the end of the day, Minhee was always her favourite child, and now she can’t even be bothered with him.

Deciding he can’t go out with those being the last words he hears, you excuse yourself and walk in the same direction. You say your hellos to the usual staff as you go into the back hallway, scouting the place for your brother.

Without warning, you’re being pulled back and pinned to the wall. You almost scream until you feel those perfect lips that belong to your boyfriend, smushed against yours.

Perplexed by his actions, you look around to see if anyone saw you. Fortunately, you were hidden enough, “Hoonie! What are you doing?”

“I needed a good luck kiss, that’s all,” he smirks, “What do you think?” he draws back and shows you the outfit he was planning to wear at Nationals and your natural reaction is to gasp.

The royal blue silk shirt was basic, but you knew it would spring to life once he got on the ice, and his black slim trousers had crystals embroidered down the side as well as all around the bottom, the gems a mix of white and three shades of blue. He really fits the description of Ice Prince.

Spinning around on his tippy toes, he awaits your response. He felt good in it like he was one hundred percent ready.

“You look like you belong in a museum,” Gawking at him, you cover your mouth, you haven’t seen him look so handsome in any skating costume before, “Why are you wearing it just now?”

He shrugs, “Coach thought it would be good to see how it holds up since I went with a new designer,” he smiles, rubbing up and down his torso. The material feels so good, he’s grown a habit of touching it whenever he can, “I’ll need to thank Karina when I’m done.”

“Huh? Why?”

“You’re looking at a Yu Jimin original, I’ve been told she’s going to be famous.” Sunghoon grins at your surprised face.

Your best friend made this outfit? Her talents never failed to amaze you but she had never let anyone wear the clothes she made, not even you unless she was sampling. How on earth did he pull this off?

Inspecting the costume more carefully, you see Rina’s signature stitching aka the first one she learnt and stuck with because she can ‘always make it work’ and to be fair, she does. It really was hers and your boyfriend was wearing it.

But she would never do it out of the kindness of her own heart, “How much did she charge?” you ask worried, Rina could easily have bumped up the price since it was Sunghoon, milking him of the money she knew he had.

“Not a penny,” He stands proudly, but you know him, and you know your best friend, so you give him a dubious look, “Well, it didn’t cost money, I gave her a matching Tiffany ring and bracelet set.” He throws the sentence out as if the jewellery didn’t cost 4 times the wages you got this month.

“Hoonie, What the fuck?”

"Nah, I got these for free a while back. I was planning to gift you them for your birthday." Wearing a playful smile, you tilt your head back as you absorb the unexpected information of your given-away gifts. Sunghoon instantly becomes aware of what he's just confessed. "Then I realised you're worth more than free jewellery and I swear when I gave her them, it was in the most 'I don't love you, this is just to get on Y/N's good side by winning you over' kinda way."

Sunghoon bats his long eyelashes after he stumbles over his words, nervous you might get the wrong idea. You didn’t though, you know he’s only got eyes for you.

It does make you laugh and think about how lucky you are, “Thank you for trying to get along with her,” you leave out the jib about it being your supposed gift because you can see how hard he is trying.

Sunghoon wants to be a part of your life, that much is evident, and he’ll do anything he can to integrate himself peacefully, cautious to not disrupt too much. Rina was an easy win because as soon as she saw the trademark Tiffany Blue boxes she was on his side. Plus, the chance to have her first-ever design worn on a televised competition wasn’t really an opportunity she could pass up.

“I just need to win over Minhee now,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you closer. But as you remain unresponsive, lost in thought, his concern grows. "Sweets? What's wrong?"

Your mind is consumed by the events of the morning with Minhee. It gnaws at you - his lack of confidence and timid nature seems perplexing, especially given Miss Barbara's assurance that he's practically a shoo-in for the Olympic team. If there ever was a time for Minhee to exude self-assurance, it's now.

Sunghoon shakes you a little, bringing you back, “Sorry, baby, I need to see Minhee.”

“Is everything okay?” Concern is painted on his face but you can’t let him worry over something that doesn’t involve him.

“It’s fine. Good luck out there,” you pull him for an unintentionally long kiss. He melts against you, using his arms to bring you into him, hoping his touch will give you some sort of comfort. Even if you don’t tell him right now, he knows when you’re ready, you’ll let him in on what has you this way.

Stepping out of the hiding spot, you briskly walk to the changing room to find your brother. You don’t want to cast a shadow over his day, not when this performance meant so much for him, but the anxiety and concerns embedded in your body need to be aired. You need to know what’s going on.

As you approach the room, Minhee is just walking out, head hung low.

He quickly spots you and his eyes stretch wide, “What are you doing here?” he looks around urgently before looking back at you.

“I just wanted to talk to you. Mum was way out of line back there and I needed you to know I’m proud of you, no matter what happens. You’ve worked so hard and I know how much this skate means considering it’s basically your ticket to the Olympics, and that’s always-”

Minhee interrupts you, “Wait, pause, what do you mean Olympics?”

Shit. You had to tell him now, you couldn’t backtrack such a monumental piece of information.

“Miss Barbara told me that Coach Kim said you’re ready for it, and if you pass this and make it to Nationals, you’ll be offered a place on the South Korean Olympic team.” You blurt it all out at once and the smile on Minhee’s face grows bigger and bigger with each word.

“You’re not fucking with me, are you?” he asks, his tone in disbelief.

Shaking your head, you mirror his vibrant smile, “No, you’re a shoo-in!”

Suddenly, Minhee picks you up and squeezes you tight, laughing lightly. You shouldn’t have let it slip but seeing the sadness wash away from him was worth it, even if it ruined the surprise. Coach Kim is so confident in his abilities, and so are you, you just needed Minhee to believe it too.

He puts you down, running his hand through his hair, still processing the good news. Minhee whispers to himself how he can’t believe it. You’ve watched him work tirelessly for this since you were kids, and you also saw how disappointed he was when he missed out on the Youth Olympics, so seeing him now at 20 practically being offered a place on the team is a dream come true for both of you. All you’ve ever wanted was for him to succeed.

Looking behind you, Minhee’s face drops again. As you look to see what caused the sudden change, you see Sunghoon walking towards you both. For the first time in 4 months, you didn’t want to see him right now; Minhee was finally in better spirits and you can’t have Sunghoon ruining it now. But he promised to behave, to take the high road, so you trust him to do just that.

Sunghoon stands beside you, his hand goes to sit on your lower back instinctively but he catches himself, pointing to the rink instead, “Coaches asked if you’re good to go or if you need a warm-up?”

You can’t lie, you’re proud of Sunghoon for not making a snide remark about how Minhee would need the warm-up. It’s tiny, but it’s progress.

Glaring into his eyes, Minhee doesn’t say anything, biting his lips into a thin line and nodding in acknowledgement.

What is up with him today? You know why Sunghoon is being a bit nicer, but where is Minhee’s sarcastic quip?

“Can I get in there?” Sunghoon gestures to the changing room, “Left my skates,” You move to the side but Minhee doesn’t budge, “Are you seriously going to make me walk around you?” Sunghoon scoffs.

Again, Minhee doesn’t move but you know it’s not in a defiant way, his face isn’t giving you the normal ‘I hate Sunghoon’ look, it’s giving you more of a concern concealed by a deadpan face kind of vibe. Strange.

Sunghoon isn’t as attuned to your brother's emotions, so he takes offence to Minhee’s resistance to move and pushes him out of the way, “You’re pathetic, Kang.”

You bite your tongue down hard, trying to suppress the anger bubbling inside you. Although Sunghoon warned you already that if Minhee provoked him, he would snap back but he didn’t have to call him pathetic.

Minhee clenches his jaw and fists, trying to calm himself down. You take the opportunity to rub his arms, soothing him a little, “Don’t listen to him, Mini. Go out there and do your best, yeah? Remember what I told you.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m basically going to the Olympics.”

“No,” you smile softly at him, “I’m proud of you, for everything you’ve achieved and everything you will,” Stepping to stand beside him, you push him towards the rink. The words might not mean anything to him, but you say every syllable with as much sincerity as you can.

He takes off his blade protectors and skates onto the rink, doing a few laps to warm up. Seeing him glide across the ice, practising his jumps with ease. Miss Barbara was right, he has improved a lot and that’s saying something considering he was already one of the best skaters.

Sunghoon walks up beside you, his skates in one hand as the other takes yours, giving it a quick squeeze before he lets go, joining his coach on the other side. It was a quick moment no one would be able to see but Sunghoon saw the opportunity to touch you for luck just one last time before he had to pretend you meant nothing to him. The sooner you both tell Minhee, the better.

Going back to your seat next to your mother, she doesn’t spare you a look before asking where you went but you don’t bother answering her, choosing to focus your energy on Minhee. He takes his spot in the centre and shifts into his starting pose. He looked so elegant on the ice, even in his sports athleisure. You wonder how much begging and bribery it would take for Rina to make him a costume for his Olympic performance.

Coach Kim gives him a supportive thumbs-up as the music begins. From the bleachers, you see Minhee let out a nervous breath before he begins. His eyes scoot to you and your mum for a second and you use the time to smile and wave enthusiastically which seems to settle him.

As he starts his routine, you can see how his movements have been perfectly choreographed, his frame is poised and he showcases a seamless fusion of strength and elegance. You look to Sunghoon for a moment, who seems to echo your awed amazement. Minhee wove through his spins and intricate footwork with ease. It was like he was a painter and the ice was his canvas, painting the most delicate yet structured portrait. He was sensational.

Minhee looks to your mum mid-skate for approval but you already know she isn’t showing him what he needs, so he shifts to you, eyes never leaving yours as he hits his quadruple axel. The one move he’s been dying to get into his routine, the one move that burdened him forever because he could never land it, now he just achieved it with some ease.

Your hands are clasped to your chest, your face radiating a beam of joy and pride. You can’t believe he did what everyone told him was impossible for him to achieve. The expression on your face is just as elated as his.

He missed having you here to cheer him on, you can tell by the smile of appreciation on his face.

He finishes up his routine with a Biellmann Spin and ends the way he started as if he could continuously loop his performance - it’s been his signature for years. The arena is silent as all eyes are on your brother as he relaxes from his pose and hunches over for breath. No one can quite believe the magic they just saw.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon is the first one to clap, a smirk on his face. He just witnessed a skate that might actually throw him off the top spot for Nationals, he had to respect it. You join in, standing up to jump and cheer his name.

On cloud 9, Minhee skates over to Coach Kim who is eagerly awaiting to praise him, “Kid, you were incredible! Seriously, by far your best skate to date,” he roughly pats the skaters back and brings him in for a hug, “My kid is going to Nationals!” The moment was so sweet you naturally pouted before running down to meet him.

“Mini! Oh my god!” your voice pulls him away from his coach, the hug from him being replaced by you, “You did so good, I almost cried! Look at my eyes, I’m not lying,” you point to your face and true to your word, there are tears in the ducts of your eyes.

Minhee ruffles your hair, “Thanks, Bubs,” he shines at the adoration he’s being soaked in, pure happiness circulating his body.

“You did well, Kang. I have nothing to fault.” Sunghoon’s voice booms behind you, his body pressing against yours as he congratulates Minhee, “Seriously, you’ve always skated well but it’s nice to see you finally bringing me some competition.”

Your brother pulls you from Sunghoon and tucks you into his side. It’s ironic how he’s protecting you from your own boyfriend. Minhee is on such a high, not even Sunghoon could ruin it for him but that doesn’t mean he has to say anything to him. He tightens the hold on your shoulder and walks you past Sunghoon.

As he puts his guards back on, you take the chance to look at Sunghoon, mouthing him a ‘good luck’ and smile which he happily returns with a wink. He didn’t need luck, he was a pro, but now he does have to step up his game because if he doesn’t get the same reaction from the onlookers, his mum won’t let him leave the rink until he does.

Taking your seat, Minhee gives your mum a look to which she only nods. Was that all he was going to get from her? You seriously needed to find out what had turned them so cold to one another. But that’s future you’s problem, right now, you focus on Sunghoon while he puts on his skates.

He circles the ice, stretching his legs and arms, yet his expression is one of unknowingness. While he chips his skates into the surface a few times, he becomes uneasy.

Regardless of how he feels, Sunghoon takes his starting stance, arms in the air and one leg spread out behind him.

Beginning his routine, the blare of Ocean Eyes plays through the speakers. The song, the routine, the outfit, everything was cohesive. Sunghoon has spent months preparing his Nationals skate, meticulously changing and adapting every detail to make sure it was perfect. You’ve watched him over the weeks and it’s nothing like how it is right now.

But not in the breathtaking way Minhee was, there was something wrong.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and as it’s coming up to his quad jumps, he skips them. Now you can confirm something is drastically wrong, nevertheless, he continues on, preparing for his flying camel spin. Whatever is going on, he’s doing his best to brush it off.

“What is wrong with him?” you whisper to yourself but your mother overhears it, smirking at you.

“He’s thrown off by your brother, I imagine,” she says so casually but as you look at her, there’s a glint in her eye.

Just as Sunghoon completes the spin with a slight wobble, Coach Lee encourages him to keep going despite the apparent struggle. Determined, Sunghoon presses on, transitioning into a forward glide as he prepares for the upcoming triple loop. It's in that moment that everything seems to crumble beneath you.

As Sunghoon launches into his jump from his back foot, smoothly completing the rotations in mid-air, however, the performance takes a sudden turn upon landing – a moment of unease grips everyone watching, you included, as his ankle unexpectedly snaps at a 90-degree angle. The consequence is immediate and stark, leading to his descent to the ground. The hushed gasps of the onlookers echo at the sight of his body skimming across the ice. In the aftermath, Sunghoon holds his injured ankle, his face contorted in pain as he tries to move it.

He's badly hurt, unable to move from his spot on the ice, and the circumstances turn what should have been a flawless routine into an unexpected nightmare.

"Hoonie!" you yell, your heart pounding as you rush to the edge of the rink to assess the situation. Sunghoon is writhing in pain, tears pooling in his eyes, and you notice the blade of his skate has come off his boot - It must have come off when he landed.

You need to be next to him, but before you can check on your lover, Minhee is quick on your heels, dragging you back. "Let me go," you're no longer concerned about how it will look if you go to check on Sunghoon; all you can think about is if he's okay.

Minhee doesn’t listen, his grip tightening as he pulls you away. You struggle against him, feeling utterly helpless as you watch the commotion around Sunghoon unfold. Coach Kim, Mrs. Park, and others gather around him, their urgent actions heightening your anxiety. But Minhee is determined to remove you from the scene, forcefully guiding you through the doors and out of the arena.

Once in the car park, he releases you with a frustrated exclamation, his agitation evident in his gestures as he runs his hands through his hair. His eyes betray a storm of emotions, leaving you unsettled and desperate for answers.

“Minhee, what’s happening? We have to go back!” you insist, your voice tinged with desperation.

“We can’t, okay? Let’s just go home,” he responds, his tone strained, his features drawn with tension.

Sensing something amiss, you step closer to him, your heart racing with concern. “Minhee, please, tell me what’s going on. None of this makes sense,” you implore, your hands reaching out to him.

“It’s nothing, alright!” he snaps, his words too forceful to be convincing. “His skate broke, that’s all. I didn’t do anything,” he adds, his denial ringing hollow.

The straightforward solution would be for him to share what's going on, but the way he's shutting down makes it clear that direct communication is off the table. Your mind races back to the kitchen, recalling your mom's directive to Minhee to 'get it done.' Then, at the rink, she warned him not to fuck up. It dawns on you that this is more than just about the routine; something else has transpired. Yet, the connection between Minhee and a botched landing seems implausible. Skaters experience falls regularly; it's just a part of the sport.

Unless he psyched him out but you were with each of them at different times and the only time they interacted was before Sunghoon went to get his skates from the changing room. Minhee acted super strange when Sunghoon asked to pass him like he was nervous about letting him in-

Sunghoon’s skate…No, surely not.

You take a cautious step back, your expression one of bewilderment. What you’re thinking couldn’t possibly have happened, your brother wouldn’t stoop so low, “Mini? You didn’t…”

"You're a liar." Minhee abruptly deters the conversation, leaving you much more puzzled than before. Tilting your head, you give him a sceptical look, but he only offers you a harsh stare, “Oh Mini, I would never do that, wasn’t that what you told me? You said that, didn’t you?”

Okay, you've officially reached the top of your perplexity. What is he on about? “I don’t know what you mean?” you utter, awaiting any form of clarity.

A visual cloud storms over his head, symbolic of his tone as he spits, “You’re dating Park fucking Sunghoon.”

How did he find out?

The weight of Minhee's accusation hangs in the air as you come to terms with the fact that your hidden relationship with his rival is now openly known. Your mind races, wondering who could have told him. To be honest, it could have been anyone at that point; you weren't being very secretive, merely keeping it low-key around those who knew Minhee. That was your first mistake, clearly.

The forced laugh that leaves his mouth is venomous, “You really ought to be more careful with your lies, Sis.” Retrieving his phone from his trouser pocket, he flicks through it until he finds something. As if viewing it for the first time, he gets angry again, shoving the device in your face, “You sent me it with the others.”

You’re faced with a picture, and not just any picture, the one of Sunghoon kissing your cheek at the award ceremony. The frozen moment captured in time reveals more than words ever could. Your heart sinks as the reality of your indiscretion stares back at you from the screen. The once-precious memory now serves as evidence. The tension in the air increases as you deal with the impact of your secret finally coming to light.

How could you be so stupid? You were so careful around him, always triple-checking everything and now it’s all up in flames.

“Mini-”

“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. Tell me you haven’t been seeing him since that night you got out of his car? That this started way after and you haven’t been with him for like 4 months?” his resolve has turned from one of anger to despair, desperate for you to tell him his suspicions are wrong.

But deception wasn't an option; lying to him now would only add more layers to an already tangled web. It was too complicated to tell him how you stayed away for a week, and how Sunghoon came to your rescue the night of Yeonjun’s party, and it was certainly not the right time to tell him how Sunghoon brought you back to life with his kisses and how he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Revealing the true depth of your connection with Sunghoon would undoubtedly trigger Minhee, unleashing a storm far beyond fits of anger, something he couldn’t come back from.

The silence gave Minhee his answer, his face falling from anger to disappointment, “I fucking knew it.”

This is what you wanted to avoid the whole time, the reason you kept Sunghoon a secret in the first place.

If he knew, he would do something rash like…

“Did you mess with Sunghoon’s skate? Did you do this because I’ve been seeing him?” It all starts to click into place but Minhee quickly shuts you down.

“It wasn’t that Y/N.” He dismisses.

“So it was you? You caused that? Minhee what the fuck?!” you shriek at his twisted confession.

The revelation sends a shiver down your spine as your emotions mix with disbelief and confusion. This wasn’t the brother you knew, the one you grew up with and held so dear to you.

The air thickens with unspoken words as Minhee rattles his brain for an explanation. His eyes portray the evident guilt he feels, a turbulent storm in the depths of his gaze. Any anger now dissipates with the wind as it blows cold on his face. His voice, when he finally speaks, carries the weight of regret, “Look, Y/N, it’s complicated; you have no idea what’s going on.”

“Then help me understand because right now it seems like you just tried to hurt Sunghoon because he's my boyfriend." The chill in your words reflects the icy breeze. The atmosphere is thick with tension, like a heavy curtain waiting to be dragged back to reveal the truth behind Minhee's aberrant actions.

Minhee’s anger washes his body again, muttering the word ‘boyfriend’ in disbelief before he speaks up, “The less you know the better, okay? Stay out of it.” With a swift turn, he attempts to walk away, yet his mind is unwilling to let the matter of you and Sunghoon rest. "Y’know, when you sent that picture, I was so angry I could have killed him, but as the weeks passed I was just so fucking disappointed you didn’t have the balls to tell me."

This whole situation is so fucked up and there is nothing you can do to place everything in a perfect timeline that will help you understand his actions because he’s keeping something detrimental from you. If it wasn’t because Sunghoon and you are together, then what could it possibly be? If it was because he wanted to be at Nationals, it wasn’t Sunghoon standing in his way so it couldn’t be that.

Before you can dwell on the situation further, your mum strides over, balancing both your belongings. "Will you two stop acting like children and fighting? You're not 5 anymore." She thrusts your jacket and bag into your arms and does the same with Minhee. "Get in the car."

“Mum, is he okay?” It’s a hopeful, albeit hesitant, question directed at your Park-hating mother. You know it's a long shot, but you chance it.

"He'll live. I doubt he'll make it to Nationals, though." She smirks, her reply tinged with dark humour that adds an unexpected dimension of tension. The revelation regarding Sunghoon's injury, delivered with that sneering twist, leaves you with a mix of anxiety for your boyfriend.

She had something to do with this, that’s obvious. You just had to find out how and why.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #aj writes #melting point

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zepskies · 29 days

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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

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mphoenix-7 · 2 months

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Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 9: The Cabin: Day 4 (pt.2)

Summary: Soap gets to you just in time. Now he needs to make sure you’re ok.

Word Count: 6,900

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, slightly smutty but it’s mostly fluff, mentions of sex,

A/N: I got a puppy this past week and let me tell you, it’s made finding time to write soooo hard. But I’m still going to try with weekly updates! Please enjoy! Like, comment, and reblog if you’d like :)

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 9

"States?! States!!!"

Words really could not express how happy you are to hear his voice. You are sobbing, so relieved yet still so scared.

"Soap!!! Soap, please help!!! I need you! Please!!!" You're yelling as loud as you possibly can, voice straining as you continue to splash at the bear and hit the water with your fists. The black bear wasn't even reacting to Soap's voice. Its focus was solely on you.

"States?! Where the fuck are you?!" His voice is closer now but still so distant.

"In the lake!! There's a bear! Please hurry!" You cry out.

The bear then decides it's had enough playing around. It seems to splash water right back at you, making you hold your hands up to shield your eyes from the onslaught of water. You scream as you're temporarily blinded, opening your eyes just in time to see you're almost face to face with the bear. Its mouth is open, teeth bared like it's going to bite. You scream again, your body feeling a big rush of adrenaline flood your system. You swing at the animal, punching it as hard you possibly can right in the nose.

Holy fuck you just punched a bear.

Your hand stings from it making contact with the hard bone of the bear's muzzle, but the hit did buy you some time. While it's stunned, sneezing and pawing at its nose, you try to move to the side. If you went back anymore, your feet wouldn't be able to touch the bottom of the lake. You knew if that happened, you wouldn't be able to get away. The bear would quickly overpower you if that happened.

You want to get around it and book it for the shore. Even then, you knew bears were fast, and you wouldn't be able to outrun it. But maybe, just maybe, you could make it to the cabin. You can't even get around the bear though. The second you being to move, it's tracking your movements again. It pounces to the side, blocking you from getting away. It felt like you were being cornered. Stuck between a drop off into deeper water and the animal.

"Soap! Where are you?!" You yell, pleading with him to hurry up.

"States!" You hear Soap's voice closer now, and you can hear the sound of heavy foot falls. Glancing past the bear and toward the shoreline, you see him barreling through the foliage.

"Soap!!" His widened eyes connect with yours for just a second before he's looking at the bear swimming towards you. Instantly, his whole demeanor shifts.

"Hey!" He shouts, voice deep and harsh. A growl that matched the intensity of the bear's. "Fuck off, you wee bastard! Dumb bear! Over here!!" He yells at the bear, picking up a rock and throwing it towards the animal, striking it on its flank.

It brings the bear's attention over to Soap, shifting its angry gaze from you to him. Then without hesitation, ignoring the cold water or the fact his boots and clothes are going to be soaked, Soap charges into the water, keeping his eyes locked on the bear's. With its attention off you, you start to move away slowly.

"Go on, get out of here! Fuck off!!" Soap keeps shouting, splashing up water as he strides towards the bear.

The bear is looking between you, now further away, and Soap, who has an angry snarl on his face and looks intimidating as hell as he charges. It seems to decide it's not worth the trouble anymore. You're going to be too hard to get now. It starts to back off, making its way to the shore and watching Soap the whole time. It seems to have forgotten about you entirely.

"That's right!! Get the fuck out of here, you ugly bastard! I'll turn you into a fucking rug if you come back here, you piece of shite!!" Soap continues to yell, storming after the bear as it backs away. He even manages to find another rock and hurl it at the bear again. All you can do is watch, feeling helpless and useless as he chases it off.

Once the bear's feet hit close to dry land, it turns and bolts back to the woods. Soap chases it a short distance, making sure that it gets the message.

"Yeah, that's right! Run to the woods and fucking stay there!!" Soap shouts one last time, waiting as he watches the bear disappear into the green brush. Once he's sure it's gone, he quickly turns to look for you. You're still huddled in the water, in roughly the same place you'd been when he got there.

"States!" He shouts, running back into the water to you. "States! Come here, swim to me! Are you alright, lass?" He asks hurriedly, not stopping until he gets to you. When he's close enough, he reaches out and grabs your forearm that's crossed over your bare chest, pulling you to him. It doesn't even fully occur to him that you're naked. It's the least of his concerns right now.

"Are you hurt? Did it get you?" He asks frantically, his eyes wide with panic. His hands run over your shoulders and down your arms a little, checking for injuries while trying to be mindful that you are naked.

"N-no... just got really close..." You wrap your arms tightly around your chest, trying to cover your breasts as you shake uncontrollably. The bone-chilling cold of the water and the overwhelming surge of adrenaline coursing through you are both to blame for that.

"Oh, lass, you're shaking like a leaf. Come on, it's ok now. Let's get you inside and warm you up, alright?"

Soap's voice is just as shaky as your body, but you don't notice it in that moment. All you can focus on is the way he wraps an arm around you, keeping you pulled close to his side, while his other hand rubs your arm to try and sooth you. He's so warm compared to the water. He feels so safe. You don't care about anything that was said before, you're just happy he's here with you.

Now that it's over, now that the immediate threat is gone, you feel yourself starting to break down. It starts with a little hitch in your breath and then you just start crying. Your head drops towards Soap, and he seems to hold you a little tighter as he walks you out of the water. The whole way, he is mumbling soothing things to you.

"Shhh.. it's alright, lass. You're safe. It's not coming back. I got you, ok? I'm right here. You're safe."

"I froze up." You begin to babble. "It was coming at me- and I just- I didn't- so I just froze." You're not even really sure Soap can understand a thing you're saying. Your voice is shaky, you're sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping, and shivering.

"Hush, it's alright. Let's just get you inside." He tells you softly, walking you to shore.

You hug yourself tightly as the breeze hits your wet skin, causing your body to shiver more violently and making more goosebumps raise up. The only part of your naked body you can cover is your chest, but you're far from feeling embarrassed about your nudity right now.

"Hang on, lass. Let me get your towel." Soap gives your arms a squeeze and then leaves your side for a moment. He runs over to your now unfolded towel while you slowly walk towards him. "Here we go. Let's get your cover-" He's quick to pick it off the ground and hold it open for you, but he stops upon noticing a brown stain along one edge. Making a face, he tosses it back to the ground.

"Fucking bear took a shite right on it." He grumbles, looking around for anything else he can use to cover you up. He can't seem to find anything though, but he knows he can't leave you naked. You were already feeling vulnerable and scared. He wanted something to put around you.

"Ah hell, here." He sighs, starting to pull his own shirt up over his head. He wrings it out before putting your head through the hole and pulling it down your body. "I know my shirt's wet but it'll cover you up until we can get you inside. Come on, lass."

"My clothes..." You try to protest as he wraps his arms back around you.

Soap looks back as he starts walking you away. "You don't want them right now. They're all muddy. And I'm not sure if it's shite or mud. Come on."

He rubs your back as he escorts you to the cabin, your wet feet collecting dirt and grass along the way. You're still a shivering, shaky, and sobbing mess once you're inside. He walks you all the way to the bedroom, and you'd probably be shocked (if you weren't already in shock) as he sits you down on his bed.

"Hang on, hen." He says softly as he goes to get you his towel. The term of endearment is lost on you as he wraps it around your still wet body, rubbing a little here and there to dry you off.

Once you're somewhat dry, he goes to your clothing draw and picks out some underwear, socks, and your pajama top and shorts. He wanted to prioritize comfort over warmth since he could just wrap you in his sleeping roll or make you some soup to warm you up.

"Here, got you some nice dry comfy clothes. Can you put them on for me?" He's kneeling in front of you, hands rubbing your towel covered arms to try and warm you up. He's placed the folded up clothes off to your side.

You start to break down again. You can't help it. You'd already been horribly stressed before the whole bear thing, and then you'd been so vulnerable and thought for sure you were going to die. Plus your adrenaline levels were still super high.

"I'm a horrible solider..." You sob. "I froze up- I didn't know what to do! I always know, and my head went blank!"

"Hey, hey look at me." Soap says softly, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. "You're not a horrible solider. You're just upset from last night, and from this morning, and you were completely exposed. It's understandable. Any solider would have freaked out under the same circumstances. It's alright, you're not a bad solider. Just get dressed. We gotta warm you up and calm you down, ok?"

"But I am! What fucking SAS soldier gets scared by a bear!" You're stilling sobbing while Soap tries his best to console you.

"Stop it, you're not. Alright? You are a good fucking solider, States. Hell, I would have been shitting myself too if I was butt ass naked trying to take on a black bear by myself. Then again that bear probably would have went running as soon as he saw me naked. You can vouch for how horrifying that is, aye lass?"

Despite still being an absolute wreck, you laugh a little at his comment. It doesn't fix everything, but it brings a smile to your face, and that's good enough for Soap. He smiles back at you, taking a moment to move some of the wet strands of hair that are plastered to the side of your face behind your ear.

"I knew that'd make you smile." He chuckles. "Now, please get out of my wet shirt and put something dry on. I'm going to go get some soup on the stove. Something to warm you up."

You weren't exactly hungry at the moment, but Soap is up before you can even protest. He grabs a shirt on his way out and shuts the door to the bedroom to give you some privacy to get dressed, but he leaves it open a crack.

Slowly, you start to drop the towel from around your shoulders and take off Soap's shirt. It's way too big for you, but it did a good job at covering you up in the mean time. It's damp as you peel it off over your head, and you start to feel exposed again. Even if you are all alone, the feeling remains. You quickly begin to dress yourself in the clothes he laid out.

The whole time you redress yourself, you find your hands are still shaking. The scene plays over and over in your head. The bear growling at you, the fear that you were going to be eaten alive, the relief when Soap showed up. Thank God he'd been close enough to hear you. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't been there. You can't even bring yourself to care about what happened before. You are certain you are alive because of Soap.

Once you're fully dressed, you slowly slide off Soap's bed. You don't want to be alone with your thoughts right now... thinking about what could have happened. Silently, you make your way out of the bedroom, pull the door open, and step into the kitchen. Soap is at the stove, stirring a pot of what is most likely chicken soup.

When he hears the bedroom door open, he glances over his shoulder to you. "Go lay down, lass. Soup will be ready in a moment." He tells you gently, but you stay put.

"I... I don't wanna be alone.." You admit softly, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking to the ground. You can't bring yourself to look at him right now.

Soap looks over his shoulder again, frowning as he notices how small you look. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart clench in his chest. This wasn't the States he was used to seeing. Something had changed when he'd heard you screaming for him. Seeing you cower before that black bear, pulling your shaking body to his, and hearing you sob.

He's never seen you like that. Vulnerable. Scared. The bear incident had rattled you, but it'd also scared him too. He couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. A desire to protect you. He'd always seen you as a thorn in his side, not someone he needed to protect. Not as someone he was afraid to lose.

"I'm here. Everything is ok now." He reminds you.

"If you hadn't been... I would have died..." You see your vision getting blurry again and hold your breath, not wanting to cry again. You've cried more in the last few days than you have in years.

"Don't think like that." Soap tells you firmly, his voice almost harsh.

You don't know what to say to him, but it's not like you could speak anyway; you're on the verge of tears again. Your body speaks for you, because soon, you can't hold your breath any longer. A shaky, uneven breath escapes you, the sound telling Soap more than enough.

"States, come here." Soap sighs softly.

You hesitate a moment before slowly making your way to him. By the time you reach him, the soup is beginning to steam. Soap moves it off from the directed heat before he turns to you.

"Look at me, lass." Soap says softly, grabbing your chin and pulling your gaze to his. "Don't even be thinking about what else could have happened. It didn't. I was here, you're alive. There is no point in imaging different outcomes. You hear me? Don't do that to yourself."

His voice was rough. You can't tell if he's mad or not, but you don't want him to be mad. The thought of another fight between you, especially now, is enough to break you.

"Are you mad at me?" You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself. Your voice cracks and a single tear runs down your cheek.

Soap's face changes instantly. His features soften up, especially his eyes. He lets go of your chin and brushes the tear away before looking away.

"No, hell... I'm not mad." Soap says carefully. "If anything, I'm mad at that bear for threatening your life. I don't... I don't want you dead, States."

You blink at him for a second as you take in what he's said. Soap's words weren't a declaration of undying love, but they had a similar impact on you. He wasn't saying he loved you—it was Soap, after all, he didn't like you—but his words carried a weight akin to a heartfelt confession. He didn't want you dead, and that was pretty special in its own way.

You struggle to find something to say. Of course, you know he wouldn't want you dead, but hearing him say it out loud felt strange, almost surreal. His concern felt genuine, and it left you with trying to figure out yet another emotion. You open your mouth, searching for something to say before the silence gets awkward.

"I would have been if-"

"Stop!" Soap immediately cuts you off, closing his eyes a moment as if he's trying to keep his cool. "I'm gonna be mad if you keep talking like that." He finishes, voice calmer now.

You frown at him. "But it's true! I was fucking useless. Everything I did to make it go away didn't work. I yelled at it, I tried to back away slowly, I splashed water at it. Nothing work, it just kept getting closer and closer."

"You just need to know the right things to do."

"What are the right things?”

Soap sighs softly. "We can talk about that later. Right now-"

"No, I need to know now!" You normally wouldn't beg Soap for any kind of help, which tells him just how terrified you'd been.

"States-"

"What if it comes back..." Your eyes are beginning to filled with tears at the thought alone of being in that position again.

"Hey, no more tears, alright?" Soap tells you softly, hands coming up to cup your cheek again and catching a salty tear as it rolls down your face. You sniffle and nod, trying to look away, but Soap moves his hand to your jaw to keep you looking into his eyes.

"Listen hen, that bear isn't going to be coming back anytime soon. Even if it did, I'm gonna be right here to chase it off again. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe."

You've never seen Soap's eyes so soft before. They're beautiful when they aren't glaring at you, a rich blue you could drown in. His voice is like velvet -soothing, heavy, and warm- wrapping around you like a soft embrace.

"You promise?" You ask as Soap drops his hand from your cheek.

"Yeah, I promise." He agrees, glancing away from you and to the pot of soup. It may have been off the heat, but it's bubbling now. "Soup is ready. Go wrap yourself up in my blanket, you still look cold. I'll be in shortly with the soup."

You look down to yours arms, which were covered in goosebumps. You weren't cold though. It was Soap's words that made them appear. You don't correct him on this though and just nod your head, padding off to the bedroom again. You sink back down onto his cot, tucking your knees to your chest. A second or two later, Soap is stepping into the bedroom, two mugs in his hands.

"Feeling better?" He asks you, pushing a mug of warm soup into your hands and then slowly sitting down by his pillow.

"Yeah. Still a bit shaken up, but I'm feeling better now." Your voice wasn't shaky anymore, and you think most of the adrenaline is gone now. You look down into your cup of soup, watching the steam come off it.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks, taking a sip from his cup and wincing when he discovers it's still too hot to drink.

"Yeah... I mean it didn't get to me. Just got really close and messed with me a little mentally." You frown, going to take a sip yourself and wincing. You hadn't seen Soap do the same thing a second before.

"Yeah, sorry. I made it too hot." Soap frowns when he sees you wince. You end up putting your cup down on the floor to let it cool off. Even the handle was getting kind hot. The cups you were using were the crappy military ones people used while out in the field.

"I'm sure it'll cool off quick." You say dismissively. You were just touched he'd made soup for you in the first place. Soap is also placing his mug on the ground a moment later.

"Do you... do you want to talk about it?" He asks slowly, unsure. "Otherwise we can talk about something else." He offers.

You sigh softly, picking at a string on your shorts. "I don't even know where to start really. It all happened so fast. I'm in the military, and I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life." You can't help but let out a dry chuckle at that realization. "I felt so helpless. I mean at least in the field I have my gear, and my training, but... I had nothing."

"That's not true." Soap shakes his head. "You have your voice. That's probably your best defense against something like a black bear."

"Bear didn't listen to me. I screamed and shouted at it. It did absolutely nothing." Your voice shakes just slightly as you recall it. Your throat still feels a little raw from all the shouting.

"Got my attention, didn't it?" Soap counters, his tone softening a bit as he meets your gaze. "I wouldn't call that nothing."

"Well it's a good thing you were close enough to hear me. Otherwise it would have been worthless. Bear ran off when you shouted at it. I don't get why it worked for you."

"Walk me through everything that happened. Did you start screaming at it instantly?"

You sigh softly and try to think back about the entire event. "Well... no, I guess not..." You frown, taking yourself back into the lake. "I was kinda in shock for the first few moments, and I think we just stared at each other. I couldn't remember if I needed to play dead or what, but then it just charged into the water after me. Tried to back away, I shouted at it, which didn't work. I tried looking for something to defend myself with, and it..." You pause to take a shaky breath, "it lunged at me the second I looked away. I splashed water at it, I screamed, I even fucking punched it when it got close to me- God it'd been so close to me... I was able to touch it... I saw its teeth. I could practically feel its breath on me..."

You trail off when you feel a warm hand gently grab yours. You were unaware that you were breathing heavily and clenching your hands into fists in your lap. Looking over, you see Soap has moved to your side, his eyes studying you and his brows pinched together in worry.

"Deep breath, aye?" Soap says softly.

"Sorry..." You breath out shakily. Slowly you relax your hand, opening it and letting Soap hold it better. He doesn't interlace your fingers or anything romantic, he just gives it a squeeze and then lets go.

“You punched that bear?” Soap asks, staying close to you instead of leaning back again.

You hum softly. “Yeah… yeah, I guess I did. I didn’t know what else to do. It was going to bite me if I didn’t.”

“That’s pretty bad ass.” Soap says, almost like he’s trying to make you feel better about yourself. “How many people can say they punched a bear?”

“I think it just made it more mad. I tried to run the second it was distracted, but it just jumped back in front of me.”

“Punching it was the right thing to do.” Soap assured you. “Most bears would have ran away if you did that. I think this one was too convinced that you were an easy target. So it wasn’t going to give up easily.”

You frown, hating to think you’d made yourself an easy target. You prided yourself on being able to handle yourself out in the field. It felt like your skills were slipping.

“How the hell do I make myself not an easy target? I did everything I could. I even fucking punched the damn thing. Nothing worked… I just don’t get it.” You’re getting upset again. You feel so frustrated, upset, and angry at yourself.

Soap grabs your leg and spins you to face him. You gasp as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him.

"Your first mistake was that you didn't stand your ground." He starts, face just inches from yours. On instinct, you try to back away from him towards the edge of the bed, but he just follows after you.

"You don't play dead or back away from a black bear. You can't show it you're scared or it's over. You gotta get big immediately, make your presence known, and don't back down."

You find yourself at the edge of the bed with nowhere else to go. You feel cornered as Soap cages you in, placing his hands on either side of you on the mattress. He looks intimidating as he towers over you, demonstrating the effects his instructions have.

"That should be second nature to you, yeah States?" He mumbles, as you watch him.

"Second,” he continues. “You get loud immediately. Your voice needs to be strong and confident. Just like in the field, you can't show fear and then expect the enemy to take you seriously when you get loud. I know you've got quite the vocals. That won't be an issue for you."

You look away, feeling vulnerable under his intense gaze. He instantly grabs your chin, making your eyes lock onto his.

"And you never, ever, look away from a black bear. Or any animal for that matter. You keep your eyes locked on, no matter what. Just like with me when we argue. You never look away from me first. You always hold your ground like the damn stubborn solider you are. Drives me fucking crazy when you do that."

His voice is deep and gravelly as he says that last part, and your thoughts instantly go to last night. How you’d refused to look away until he finally broke.

You find yourself locking eyes with him now. His hand remains firmly on your chin, his eyes staring dominantly into yours.

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles. The energy rolling off Soap feels similar to yesterday, but it's still different. It's a different intensity, one that makes you feel like you can't breathe.

He's towering over you, trapping you in like he's the bear that won't let you escape. Except it's not a bear, and it's just Soap. If you can stand your ground against Soap, you can stand your ground against a black bear. Soap was probably just about as dangerous as one, if not more.

The fear melts away, replaced by the warmth of Soap's proximity. He's close enough you can feel his breath against your lips. You can feel the heat coming off his body as he leans over you. Your eyes still haven't left his, and how could you look away when his start to soften slightly. You don't want to fight anymore. You just want to get lost in the peace that his non-glaring eyes bring.

Then his hand slides from your chin to the side of your face, his thumb gently tracing along your jaw. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel your heartbeat quickening. Soap's eyes are intense as they lock on yours, his pupils dilating slightly. The tension in the room shifts to something far more intense and intimate.

Your lips part, as if to speak, but no words come out. You're not even sure what you would have wanted to say anyway. Instead, your body seems to move on its own. You tilt your head slightly and then quickly close the distance, meeting his lips in a tentative kiss. The little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you, asking what the hell you’re doing, but his lips are so warm and soft, so different from how you remembered them feeling. The gentle pressure of his lips against yours makes that voice fade into the background until it vanishes entirely.

Soap is still at first, you hear him inhale through his nose when you first press your lips against his. As soon as you try to pull away though, his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you back in as he deepens the kiss. He kisses you back firmly, quickly dominating the kiss. A fire instantly ignites within you, and you melt into him. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck as you lose yourself in the sensation.

The kiss grows more feverant, yet your lips move against his at a deliberate, slow pace, resisting his attempts to quicken it. The wet, gentle sound of lips meeting and parting fills the air, mingling with the sound of your gradually quickening breaths.

You're starting to tremble slightly as your heart rate increases, yet Soap remains as composed as ever. You need to know he feels the same way, that you're not the only one affected by this. You slip a hand from around his neck down to his chest, placing it over his heart. His heartbeat thumps heavily against your fingertips, its rapid pace mirroring your own.

Soap gently takes your hand and pulls it away from his chest, guiding it back around his neck as he rocks back, settling you into his lap. His hands rest on your hips, pulling you down against him, positioning you right over the bulge in his pants. Feeling the firm press of his member between your legs has heat pooling there fast. Meanwhile, Soap's hands travel from your hips, his fingertips ticking along the sides and backs of your thighs, only adding to that sensation.

You move your hands to cup his cheeks, tracing them along his jawline and feeling the prickly stubble beneath your fingers. When you brush your fingers against the sensitive skin behind his ear, a soft, low moan escapes him. His hands shift from your thighs to your lower back, just above your butt. He presses you down against his bulge, grinding you against him and encouraging you to move.

The thinnish material of your shorts does not do much to separate you from the tough denim of Soap's pants. The seam of his pants is rubbing deliciously against you and you start to grind gently to keep that sensation going.

You moan softly at the contact, your lips breaking free from his as you do. Your eyes flutter open, and you find that Soap is already looking at you. His lips are parted, and his breathing is a little labored, but you hardly pay any attention to those things. His eyes are filled with emotions that you've never seen before. The only discernible one you can pick out in your haze is confusion.

"We need to stop." He whispers, and you blink at him in surprise. It takes a few seconds before you fully realize what he's said, but once you do, your heart drops a little.

You weren't expecting him to say that. Of all the emotions in his eyes, wanting to stop hadn't been one you'd picked out. He'd seemed so into it just a moment ago.

"But-" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off.

"If it was a mistake the first time, it's going to be a mistake the second time. And you're not in the right mindset." He moves his hands to your hips and starts to lift you off his lap. He sets you back down on his cot, and you notice him trying to subtly adjust the bulge in his pants, evidence he’d been enjoying it.

As initially sad as you are about stopping, you know he’s right. Having sex again really wasn’t a good idea. You’re not even really sure what you’d been thinking. Now that Soap had put an end to it, you felt embarrassed.

“I’m sorry...” You mutter, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Soap sighs softly. “Don’t be. It’s not like I didn’t kiss you back. Just forget it happened.”

You look down at your lap, a frown making its way to your face. Soap's words echo in your mind, pulling you back to the conversation you had earlier that day. To just forget it, move on, and act like it didn’t happen. Go back to the ways things were before.

"I… I don't want to go back to how things were." You find yourself blurting out, the words slipping past your lips before you can fully process them.

The thought of falling into the same old routine with him, arguing and bickering constantly, is unbearable. You wanted things to be different. You liked this. The soft touches, the gentle looks, his deep soothing voice and not the rough angry one. You don't want to give that up.

“What?” Soap says, confusion evident in his tone. “States, we can't keep fucking each other. It's only complicating things." He argues.

"No, that's-that’s not entirely what I meant. I mean like, I'm tired of us constantly fighting. I like this. I want things to be like how they've been today. Or at least the last few hours. Feeling like I can rely on you, not fighting, being civil. I want that for us, not what we had before. I don't care about sex. I just want… I want to connect with you. For us to connect with each other.”

You feel like you're opening your heart up to Soap, which is surprising. You've never felt this emotionally vulnerable around him before. The only thing that comes close is your first day together when you cried in front of him. Even sex with him had felt more physical rather than any emotional connection.

You wait with bated breath for his response as Soap looks away, his lips pursing together. You can tell he's uncomfortable with this topic.

"Soap... can't we just start over?"

Soap sighs heavily, leaning his head back against the wall and looking straight up. "I don't know if we can just start over." He mutters, making you frown.

"Can't we try?" You ask him softly, trying to look for any changes in his body language that you were pushing too much. You didn't want to ruin the somewhat peaceful atmosphere.

"I just don't see how-"

"Please." You push, and he turns his gaze back to you. He looks just slightly irritated, and you know you're pushing it too much. He’s getting annoyed.

"Keep in mind, I did almost get eaten by a bear today. So you know..." You add, using the near death experience to guilt him into agreeing while also trying to lighten things up a little. It seems to work as the irritated look leaves Soap's face.

"Steaming Jesus..." He mutters under his breath, clearly not happy with you using that against him. He wanted to say no so badly, but he found that the words wouldn’t leave his lips. Whether it was because of what you said, that you almost had died, or because deep down he really did want to start over, he wasn’t sure.

Finally, after a few seconds, he sighs. “Gonna hate making Price think he's right." He grumbles, his resolve cracking slowly. "Fine lass. But I'm not making any promises."

You’re honestly shocked he agrees to having a fresh start. You expected him to just close himself off and say no, but you definitely aren’t going to complain. Any tension you had instantly leaves your body, excited by the idea of starting over. Of you and Soap being nice to each other. Giving him a smile, you extend your hand out to him and clear your throat.

"Hi, I'm (y/n) (y/l/n) but people around here call me States. I've been with Task Force 141 for about six months now, but I don't think we've met yet." You reintroduce yourself to Soap, but he's making a face at you.

"Get out of here with that shite." He grumbles, swatting your hand away, but his voice is light, not angry.

Pouting at him, you hold your hand out again. "Aww, come on. Is that really how you want our first introduction to each other to be like?"

"You're fucking mad, woman."

"I almost gotten eaten by a bear today! The least you can do is play along." You argue, making Soap narrow his eyes at you.

"You're really going to play that card again?"

"Yep." You stick your hand back out, giving him an expectant look.

Soap looks between you and your hand a few times before rolling his eyes and groaning. "You can't use that for everything you know." He reluctantly puts his hand into yours.

You give him a smug smile and a little shrug. "If it works, it works. Now..." You clear your throat and nod towards him, hinting at him to continue playing along.

He gives you a glare before sighing deeply. “Ughh, hey, lass... I'm, uh, I'm Sergeant John MacTavish. Everyone expect Ghost calls me Soap. I'm the incredibly handsome and daring hero who saved you from getting eaten by a bear today."

You roll your eyes at him. "What you want a metal or something?" You grumble, but he's already said so much more than you expected that you can't really complain.

"Would be fine if you offered to do my laundry for the next month as a thank you." He shrugs, and you withdraw your hand from his.

"Just put me back in the lake."

"Alright." Soap shrugs, surprising you by reaching out for you. His hands grip your waist, and before you can react, he's attempting to hoist you up.

You gasp and start to squirm immediately. "Don't you fucking dare, MacTavish!" You warn, pushing at his hands and trying to wiggle away. You almost manage to get to the end of his cot, but he just gets up and pulls you back to him. He pins you down on your back as he stands over you.

"You going to do my laundry for the next month?" He asks, pausing and keeping you pinned while he gives you once last chance to agree.

"No! Fuck you!"

"Alright, guess I'm putting you back then." You squeal then as Soap hoists you up, practically throwing you over his shoulder.

"Put me down! I swear Soap!" You shout at him, pounding your fists against his back.

"I'll put you down in the lake." He tells you, turning to head towards the door, but then he kicks over your mug of soup, sending it clattering a few feet in front of him and spilling cold soup everywhere. "Ops." He mumbles, looking down at it.

You stop struggling when you hear the metal clanging, and Soap puts you down on your feet. You look down at the mug with Soap for a long second. Normally fighting would ensure, with either you cussing Soap out for picking you up or Soap getting pissed for you setting it somewhere he could kick it.

Instead, you take a deep breath and start to laugh. Soap shifts his gaze from the mug to you, seeming surprised by hearing you laugh. He must have been expecting some kind of fight too. You don’t notice it, but a small smile makes its way to his face.

“That's karma for trying to put me back in the lake." You shove him lightly, in a playful way, and step over the puddle to go into the kitchen to get some paper towel. You hear Soap scoff behind you.

"Says the one who's about to clean it up." He throws back, watching you grab the paper towels.

You chuckle softly as you walk back over, slapping them to his chest. "Nah, I was just getting them for you. You kicked it over, you clean.”

"You put it down there." He throws back, just like you knew he would.

"But I almost got-"

"Ahh!! No! You can't use that anymore! I already did what you wanted and did that cheesy introduction bit. Just go sit on your bed. Steaming Jesus." He gripes, but he goes to mop up the mess anyway.

You feel another laugh bubble in your chest, and you smile as you watch Soap squat down to lay the paper towel over the liquid. Even though it sort of felt like you were still arguing a bit, it was much lighter now. You knew things could flip and tomorrow he could be a total dick all over again, but for now, you wanted to enjoy this.

As you laugh, Soap finds himself smiling again. Perhaps you weren’t as bad as he thought. Maybe letting you in wouldn’t be so bad…

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whereforarthur · 1 month

Text

Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 9/17/2024)

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff:

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff:

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff:

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff:

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff:

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers (X)

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

#italianbach #chrismd #arthur hill #george clarkey #arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #george clarke fics #fluff #smut #angst #british youtubers #italianbach x reader #chrismd x reader #arthur frederick #arthur hill x reader #george clarkey x reader

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joelalorian · 4 months

Text

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don��t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

@lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg

@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby

@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots in love

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boydepartment · 2 months

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@ iluvmygf- nishimura riki x fem! reader: ch 9

description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.

genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau

warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes

TEXT + SOCIAL MEDIA CHAPTER

kms joke this chapter

“PLS COME OVER”

___

masterlist

taglist: open

@yourmomscuntis2tighy @yannew @wzy3ka @stellarpsh @czlluvriki @im-yn-suckers @owotalks @filmofhybe @skepvids @ocyeanicc @amymyli @imsodazed @rikislady @j-wyoung @bangchansbangers @sassyfanlawyergarden @miko1ly @itsactuallylina @haewonluvr @entenen @cb97mylove @jxp1-t3r @ineedaherosavemeenow @str4wb3rizz @beomgyusonlywife @jiaant11 @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @stryroses @riziwon @cholexc @soobiverse @tzuyusluv @hayleyrkbee @softiehee @captivq @yla-aira @svarcq @s00buwu @rodygr @ikeu4life @faraonatojishady @ohsjy @bts-iris @wqsty @en-gene2 @mrowwww @eumppattv @junsflow @ilurvriki @bunchofroses07 @ariadores @luvkpopp @asherthehimbo @realrintaro @myjaeyunn

comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you. if you do choose to comment please do it on the masterlist.

a/n: we only have a couple more chapters left :(also whoever is praying on my downfall and wants me to actually kayemmess you suck youre winning rn

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eternalbuckley · 4 months

Text

Undercover. — evan buckley

SUMMARY: You are an undercover detective and assigned to a Job with Lucy. Buck tried reaching out to you while you were still undercover because he missed you and after the job was done, you decided to have a talk with him. Which revealed unsaid feelings from Buck.

word count: 3,504

genre: angst and bit of fluff | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

pairing: evan buckley x reader, lucy chen x platonic!reader, 911/the rookie crossover

warnings: talks about drugs, reader got physically hurt (broken rip and a few scratches), mention of a car crash, small descriptio of a physical fight, there is a bartender named marc (in case that's your name), Y/C/N used once (means your undercover characters name), very emotional buck, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

navigation | masterlists | my 9-1-1 masterlist | my taglist

Working as a detective in the LAPD came with its good and bad sides. The stress was not always easy to handle but working undercover came with many more downsides. Things like not being able to be with the people you care about whenever you have an undercover job. It would be too dangerous if anyone in your private life would be a part of the life you created to be undercover and get involved with any case you had. Everyone who was a part of your life knew that, especially your colleagues and your boyfriend Evan Buckley. A firefighter of the LAFD.

You always had to go away for a few days here and there to get done different jobs since you started being friends with him a few years ago. Some years into your friendship, both of you realized that you had feelings for each other and started dating. Now you’ve been with him in a happy relationship for one and a half years. And soon you’d finally move in with each other. Buck knew what he had to deal with, such as not being able to contact you in any imaginable way whenever you were undercover. It would be too risky for you, him, everyone else and the job. You didn’t have to go undercover for the past two months now, as a result of an injury you got from your last job. Since then, Buck got even more protective over you. Naturally, he already was the protective kind of guy but since then it got more.

Buck wasn’t okay with you going undercover again but you had to because it had something to you with one of your old jobs and it was much needed that you would get into it again. And despite Buck being against it, you decided to do it and promised him you‘d be okay and everything would be according to plan.

"You got hurt the last time you promised me that," he mumbled but you reassured him that you would look out for yourself this time. Especially because you weren’t alone and had one of your colleagues, Lucy Chen, with you. This helped him to calm down at least a little bit. You kissed him as a goodbye and left his apartment, shutting down your private life.

Since then, it had been three weeks and the job was taking longer than expected. It was unbearable for you and Buck but it needed to be like this. You knew you were close to being done with the job but you couldn’t risk anything yet. Lucy and you didn’t have all the evidence you needed to arrest the drug dealers and the whole gang you were infiltrating. She had to brew lots of different drugs and you helped her with that. Collecting all the evidence wasn’t as easy as you hoped it would be but there wasn’t anything else you could do. You had to wait and so did Buck.

Whenever he wasn’t on a call, he sat on the couch of the station and kept looking at his phone whenever it vibrated. He hoped it would be you, letting him know you were back but every time it wasn’t what he was hoping for. It was the first time you had been away for such an amount of time since you got together and he missed you. He needed to see you again. Eddie tried to cheer him up by spending time together with him and Chris but not even that helped Buck. He was thankful for the efforts but the only thing that could cheer him up would be seeing you. He knew he couldn’t but he had and needed to find a way.

So, despite everyone’s concerns and efforts to keep him away from doing what he wanted to do, he drove to a bar. Buck knew from your stories about your undercover jobs that this was the place where you usually hung out with a few drug dealers. It was a normal bar; everyone could enter it without automatically being associated with the gang or any criminal acts but it was a known place for this gang. He sat in his car, thinking about if he should do it. Buck knew it was wrong and the risks that could come with it but in that moment, he was too stubborn and got out of his jeep and walked over to the bar. He entered it and looked around, looking for you. And to his good luck or maybe later his bad luck he found you immediately. Your eyes met each other and for a second you thought your eyes were lying to you but they weren’t. You saw your beloved boyfriend walking over to the bartender and watched him as he ordered himself a drink while sitting down there. His back was turned to you but you knew what his aim was. Internally you cursed him.

"Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend?" Lucy nodded towards Buck and whispered to you. You nodded your head and sighed. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

You were currently sitting with her alone, luckily no one else in the gang you both were infiltrating was with you. Giving you a night just together. It was very unusual but you both took it as a chance to plan your next steps.

"I‘ll go and get us another drink, warn me if anyone gets too close," you told Lucy as you stood up. She hummed and nodded her head.

You walked over to the bartender and stood right next to Buck but kept a distance from him. You didn’t want to cause too much attention in case anyone in the gang was secretly watching you and Lucy.

"The same drinks twice again, Marc," you smiled at him. He nodded and started making your order. He was a few feet away from you now.

You didn’t look at Buck since you weren’t sure if you were being watched by anyone. "What the hell are you doing here?" You mumbled quietly but Buck was still able to hear you.

"I needed to see you," Buck took a sip from his drink, "I miss you." He noticed that you didn’t look at him which hurt him but he knew you couldn’t risk anything. It was already too risky for you to talk with him in the first place but he needed to risk it.

You sighed and looked down for a moment, "I miss you too,” you replied eventually in a soft whisper. “But you should go. You shouldn’t be here, it‘s too dangerous for you or us." You continued as you watched Marc while he made you the drinks. He shared a polite smile with you from the other side of the bar.

Buck nodded his head and finished his drink before he finally looked at you. You looked different. You had another haircut and hair colour, you even had a few fake tattoos on your body. You looked good in his eyes, different but good. But not as good as you usually look like.

"Here are your drinks Y/C/N," Marc gave you the two drinks and went back to serving other customers. You thanked him and took the two glasses.

You turned your body to Buck and gave him a small reassuring smile, "I‘m okay, don’t worry about me." You whispered once again.

Buck nodded his head again, "I love you." He whispered as you turned around to walk back to Lucy.

"I love you too," you replied quietly and eventually returned to Lucy without turning around again. Buck watched you go and gulped. He didn’t want to leave but he had to, and so he did.

As soon as you sat down again you looked out of the window and looked out for any people who possibly could follow him as he drove away but you weren’t able to see anyone following him. With a sigh and worry on your face, you looked back to Lucy, who already had her eyebrows raised. But before she could say anything you told her that you would talk with him about it once the job is done.

"I mean he knows that he shouldn’t do it but… It‘s Buck after all," you chuckled with her. You tried to hide your fear that someone might have followed Buck and that he could be hurt…. or worse.

After an hour Lucy and you decided to call it a night and drove back to your motel. The following days were quieter than usual. The gang you were working for didn’t contact you or Lucy, which was weird for the both of you but you decided to wait longer. After a few more days, three men came to your motel and took you with them. The conclusion was that the leader wanted to test you and Lucy. He wanted to see if he would be able to trust both of you any longer. Luckily you seemed to have passed his test because he involved both of you in the next steps of his plans.

Two weeks later the whole gang got arrested during a drug deal. The last days weren’t the easiest ones because one of the closer gang members started questioning the story about Lucy and you. Which resulted into the gang leader starting to question both of you as well but the deal was still being done. But you didn’t get out of it without any injuries. One of the gang members hit you in the side of your rips before he got arrested but that was everything that happened.

Your sergeant still made sure you‘d get a checkup in the hospital in case your injury caused any bigger inner injuries. You didn’t want to tell Buck anything about it because you knew he‘d be too worried but as soon as you entered the hospital with Lucy you met him. He and the 118 team just arrived there because Bobby got hurt on their latest call. You wished you could curse whoever was in charge of all the happening events because you didn’t want Buck to worry about you as well if he already was worried about his captain. Buck immediately stood up and rushed over to you, his face was slightly bruised.

"That‘s my cue to go," Lucy bit on her lower lip and held up her thumbs as she left you alone.

"Lucy!" You whisper yelled and held your rips because of your quick movements. Maybe it hurt you a bit more than you thought.

Your action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, "What… What are you doing here?" He asked you, clearly worried about you. He held you by your arms and sat down with you.

"I‘m just here for a checkup, nothing to worry about," you tried to smile but you knew he‘d see right through it.

He nodded and raised his hand to touch your slightly bruised face but his face turned into slight panic or shock for a moment, "W..wait am I," he looked around and stopped in his tracks, "Am I allowed to talk to you? Is your job over or.."

You chuckled but hissed because of the pain, "It‘s over, we got everything we needed." You looked at him and touched his face to check up on him, "What happened to you?"

"Don’t worry about me. It‘s just a few scratches, we‘re here for Bobby," he told you and explained what exactly happened that led his team to be here.

They tried to rescue a couple after a car crash but another car drove into the accident and the team got slightly hurt. Especially Bobby but nothing too serious, he‘ll be out again after the checkups are complete.

Buck smiled but it was quickly replaced with worry again, "I‘m gonna get you a doctor."

You nodded and Buck left you there. Lucy came back with two water bottles and sat down next to you. She let out a relieved sigh and was clearly happy that the job was finally done. She was tired of brewing all these drugs.

"I guess you won’t talk to him tonight, hm?" She asked you as she gave you one bottle.

You took the bottle and opened it, "About the thing that happened at the bar a few weeks ago?" You took a sip and looked over to Buck who was talking to a doctor. You shook your head and looked back to Lucy, "I don’t think so. He already had a rough day. Talking about this can wait."

Lucy nodded and squeezed your arm after she put her hand on it, "Just don’t wait too long. We or especially you cannot risk it again. The next time it might be too late and one of you might die, or even both of you."

"I know," you sighed as you whispered and pinched your nose bridge. You tried to think about different ways how you should approach him with this topic but you still didn’t find the correct one.

As soon as you were off to go, you went home with Buck. He insisted on staying by your side, especially because it was your first night alone back home in your apartment. Originally, he wanted to drive to his apartment but yours was nearer. Buck waited for you as you got checked and the worry on his face was clearly there. You knew he wanted to ask you so many questions but would he get all of them answered? He didn’t think so, nor did he expect it. But he for sure knew, he would try to get answers out of you about your well-being and how you got hurt.

"Ugh I require so much sleep," you sighed dramatically as soon as you entered your apartment.

You dropped your backpack on the floor and took off your jacket. Buck immediately came over to you to help you. Any big movement hurt you too much, he knew and saw that in your face.

"What happened to you?" He asked you again and reached out to touch your cheek. You didn’t flinch and just looked at him, "I.. I know you can’t tell me explicitly but.. You got hurt. Again."

You took his hand and squeezed it, "I‘m fine, really. It’s just a few scratches and a broken rip." You watched his eyes scanning your face. He furrowed his eyebrows but relaxed them after a few seconds again. He must have been thinking about something but you weren’t sure if he was going to tell you what he had on his mind.

After a few more seconds Buck shook his head and decided that he wanted to know what happened, "Tell me how it happened." He whispered as you turned away from him to get yourself something to drink.

"Buck…" You exhaled after you took a sip from your glass. You didn’t want to tell him everything but you knew he wouldn’t stop asking you about it. That was something you loved about him. That he would never back down from something.

"Please,” he begged desperately, “Tell me everything you can.”

Your eyes found his pleading ones and you slowly nodded your head. "Okay," you sat down with him on your couch.

Buck held your hand the entire time and listened to each of your words. You told him everything you were able to tell him about the past few weeks. From the point where you two met at the bar until almost all the main people from the gang got arrested. You told him about the gang leader starting to question the story about you and Lucy. How everything almost went down and that they were almost outed as detectives but luckily to you, you and Lucy were good enough at convincing most of the gang members. Of course, some didn’t believe you and watched your steps very clearly. Up until early this evening when everyone got arrested. Before your colleagues stormed into the building one gang member confronted you and Lucy. Having evidence that you two were indeed detectives and he threatened you to tell everyone about your lies. Hoping you two would die. Soon you three got into a fight and you got hit by the gang member a few times. In your face and rips mainly. But right after that your colleagues came in and made sure everyone got arrested.

Buck gulped nervously, "You mean… You could have died?"

You slightly nodded your head but immediately squeezed his hands, "But I didn’t, okay? Everything is fine. Everyone got arrested and everything is done." You spoke softly.

"But you still could have died," his voice cracked. His lower lip trembled in fear of the possibility of losing you.

He didn’t want to imagine getting a call about your passing from your boss or any partners. Buck was afraid that you could die in a job. He knew his own job wasn’t the safest either and that you might feel the same way as he did about you and your job. But he couldn’t imagine a life without you, that’s something he was one hundred percent sure of.

"Buck,” you tried to calm him down but it was not possible. You took both of his hands and pulled them to your lips to kiss him on his knuckles. It usually helped him to calm down whenever you did it but this time it didn’t seem to help immediately. “I’m here, okay? Nothing bad happened. I’m-“

"I don’t know how dangerous undercover jobs can exactly be but I don’t want you to die. I can’t lose you,” he shook his head with tears in his eyes.

You didn’t know about his opinion about your job. Both of you haven’t really talked about it before. Sure, you knew he didn’t like your job because he was scared you could badly get hurt again but that he felt this exact way. That was something new. He never was near crying because of it, at least not in front of you.

"You won’t lose me," you reassured him and put one of your hands on his cheek. He leaned his head into your hand but his worries were still present.

You wanted to promise him that he won’t lose you but you didn’t want to make a promise about this. Not, if you weren’t one hundred percent sure if you could keep it. The only way you could keep it was by staying with him because you deeply cared about him and loved him. But regarding to your job, you couldn’t promise him that. Neither could Buck promise you the same thing and both of you knew that.

"But what if there’s a time you can’t help yourself and you get in danger and-," he started rambling but stopped himself to look at you, “I’m worried about you.”

You nodded your head and whispered a few ‘I knows’. "And that’s okay but if I ever get too close to something dangerous, I‘ll get out."

Buck tried to smile at you but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"But…" you started and scooted closer to him. His hand immediately found its way to your thigh. You were thinking about how you could approach another important topic in this whole situation. Because you still needed to talk with him about his appearance at the bar a few weeks ago. But right now, you decided this would be something you should discuss later.

Buck looked at you, waiting for you to continue. He turned his body completely to you and signalled you that he was listening. With your one hand, you wiped away his tears and shook your head. You cuddled into him and wrapped your arms around his torso and so did he.

"There’s something else I need to talk with you about but it can wait for now,” you whispered softly and closed your eyes. “Right now, I just want to sit here with my boyfriend and cuddle with him.”

He nodded his head with a chuckle and squeezed your arms, he tried to make sure he wasn’t accidentally hurting you. He finally had his angel back in his arms. You nuzzled more into his body and hummed, feeling calm and happy. You didn’t want to let go of him and neither did he want to. There was an underlying tension between you regarding you and being an undercover detective but Buck knew he couldn’t change your opinion. You loved being a detective and especially working undercover. After all, it wasn’t just him who was scared every time. Whenever Buck had a shift, you were scared you would get a phone call about his passing or that you’d see anything about it on the news. You deeply cared about each other and were scared for each other but the love between you was stronger than anything else. But little did you know what would come sooner or later.

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roughdaysandart · 4 months

Text

Rough Day Comic 0-1 "Other Talents"

💗PLEASE REBLOG TO SUPPORT!💗

SERIES MASTERLIST

Based on Rough Day by @no-droids

SERIES GEN WARNINGS: non-canon typical gore/blood, violence, light language, implied nudity, implied trauma (Blood, depression, anxiety, bullying, sexual), typos and general lore errors possible (plz lmk if you find any I enjoy accuracy)

See end for bonus content and credits.

LISTEN TO THE ACCOMPANYING MUSIC FOR A CINEMATIC EXPERIENCE! (LINKED AS YOU GO)

TRACK 1: REPROGRAM (only track til end credits)

END CREDITS TRACK: A FRIEND -GUITAR COVER

Up Next: CH 0-2: "Rules and Habits"

"And yet, only when she was absolutely certain he wouldn't see ...shed let that nagging curiosity get the better of her, make an exception...and-"

AUTHORS NOTE:

Well, this is the moment we've all been waiting for, sickos! I'm so proud of what Ive learned and been to accomplish these past few weeks (digital-art and writing in general), and have so much gratitude for all of the wonderful people who have followed along and encouraged me thus far. Most of all, thank you to the wonderful @no-droids for creating the fic in the first place. I cant wait to continue posting what's in store these next few (probably) years.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you'll consider checking out my homepage for updates, sneek peeks, more depravity, the star wars mega-pinterest boards, and the unofficial soundtrack! 💗

Next chapter coming.....whenever its ready...in-person school is aboutta start and im going to pace myself and figure out how to balance going in person for the first time in a year...workin' and well...life, which includes this depravity and you all 💗!!!

Cheers, Sweet Girls. 💗

-M (@roughdaysandart)

CREATOR CREDITS

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the amazing dividers!

Credit to all of the talented artists making covers of the songs I link!

Credit to Brittany Broski for introducing me to RD/Ao3 this late in my life

Credit to...anyone else my mushy brain forgot (lmk ya'll)

credit to my drug-induced psychosis?

ERRORS/DISCREPENCIES/INNACURACIES (feel free to add)

Sweet Girl was drawn on the cover before her design was finalized, and so her clothing as well as her body are not exactly the same as how she appears in the series.

On page 5, Din is supposed to be laying in the cockpit's main compartment listening to the closed door, not in the mini hall where the ladder resides.

on page 9, there is a spelling error (talens--> talents)

On page 12, the rendering of the Crest's hull is a bit too wide (most dramatically apparent by the fresher door's length), the hull should be a tad more narrow. In addition, the flooring coloring is somewhat inaccurate, needing to appear more metallic instead of similar to the roofing textures and colorings

On page 12, the handle of the fresher door is supposed to be on the left side, not the right.

Speaking of the handle: I understand that manual doors are somewhat uncommon in the SWU, and it would be inconsistent for the Crest to have one when the cockpit and cot doors are auto, but I wanted to stay consistent with the descriptions in the original fic. In chapter 2, SG is described to slide open the door with her hand as she sees Mando standing outside. But I didint want to just purley stick to the fic's details and ignore in-universe discrepancies, so i thought of how this somewhat odd/niche detail could still make sense in this setting. I figured that with the inclusion of a control panel within the fresher (seen in later chapters) in addition to the one bewteen it and the cot, the option of an automatic function would presumably still be available aside from the manual one (which could be there for the purpose of giving the user a speed or distance preference or to avoid pinching etc.)

on the page beginning with "to say the least", the mini-halls' roof is suppposed to have a window. Therefore, the lighting of the space is somewhat innacurate.

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jinnie-ret · 1 year

Note

could we maybe get a part two to fallen Angel? Maybe it could have her healing process, like her physical therapy process, and the fan reaction? I just love reading your work :3

fallen angel pt 2

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader (Platonic)

content warnings: mentions of injuries (ankle, rib)

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.2k

after suffering a nasty fall in a Kingdom performance, Y/N is eager to get back on her feet, only to feel downhearted when she receives some less than motivating news. it's a good thing she has the boys there to support her.

Thank you so much @mynameisnotlaura for this request!! I hope you enjoy! :)

As always, if you enjoy please like and reblog! And my asks are open so be sure to leave in some requests if there's anything you'd like to see!

MAIN MASTERLIST

Stray Kids' Fans in Uproar as Second Member is Removed from Kingdom: Legendary War

With just a few more weeks until the finale of the competition between six boy groups, a second member of the group Stray Kids has been removed from the show.

MNET have released an official statement saying:

"Due to faulty equipment that had not been properly authenticated by outside distributors, Y/N of Stray Kids sustained an injury that has prevented her from continuing in the competition. This is a very unfortunate situation and we wish her a speedy recovery."

However some fans have speculated that it was actually MNET's fault and that they should have checked the equipment themselves.

What do you think? Let us know down below:

Comments:

First Hyunjin, and now Y/N, this is so sad to see our group of 9 go down to 7...

It's clearly MNET's fault! You could tell Chan was angry about something before making sure Jeongin was ok

I wouldn't be surprised if Bang Chan went off at the staff, we all saw how annoyed he was in that one vlive...

Our poor maknaes, I hope they're both doing ok! Jeongin, Y/N, fighting!

I hope the rest of the boys are doing ok, now that they're down two members...

The way you can see the moment things go wrong in the performance and Y/N still manages to keep a calm face!

Okay but you wouldn't have been able to tell that Y/N got injured until they showed it after the performance.

Y/N put her phone down sighing. She was glad there was no nasty comments from what she read but she still didn't feel all too optimistic. MNET had blamed someone else for her injuries, and had also denied her requests of participating in the competition once more. Sure, she wasn't fully healed yet, but they could have let her be a part of it somehow without her dancing too strenuously. And no, she wasn't going to accept their request to just sit backstage and watch. In any other world she wouldn't mind doing so, but she knew that MNET would manipulate their footage and craft a vision that reflected badly on her own part.

It had been a couple of weeks since they filmed that performance, and a week since the episode was released, and Y/N was still on bed rest. Anytime a member saw her hobbling about they'd immediately do the thing she wanted for her, or escort her back to her room. Cutting a long story short, she felt like she was in a hell of some kind. Y/N longed for her independence, which added on top of the reasons why she was feeling so angry and upset and just... jumbled at the moment. It wasn't even like she could hang out with Hyunjin, because when the members left for practice, not before checking up on her of course, she would be left alone in the dorms. Hyunjin was spending his hiatus at home at the moment, but she was excited to see him soon after filming for Kingdom was finished.

Shuffling out of bed, and letting out a harsh breath at the pain that hit her mid section, Y/N slowly stood, now having to hobble across her bedroom floor with crutches, careful not to further distress her sprained ankle. Some say she was lucky it was only a sprain, but really it was a pretty severe one that was she lucky it didn't do any permanent damage.

"You should be in bed," Lee Know sternly said, back turned to her as she entered the kitchen.

"How did you know it was me?" Y/N pouted, letting out a groan as she leant against the kitchen counter.

"Here let me, careful, careful," Han gently supported her weight momentarily, helping her into a seat and offering a smile at her.

"Thanks, Hannie," Y/N smiled at her squirrel like member, turning back to Lee Know.

"Not hard to distinguish the difference between crutches and hobbling, to normal footsteps. Plus you normally run in for my breakfasts but you can't do that at the moment," Lee Know tapped Y/N on the nose as he put a plate of pancakes in front of her.

"Hey... don't remind me," Y/N said, shoulders feeling tense as her irritation was evident on her face.

"Yeah, you'd normally be the first one in here," Seungmin chuckled.

"Stop," Y/N slammed her fork down against the table, feeling bad for suddenly lashing out but she also felt so annoyed at the fact she currently couldn't do less.

"Sorry, sorry, we won't mention it no more, unless you want to, okay?" Felix calmed her down, one hand on her shoulder as the other ran through her hair.

"No, it's okay, I'm sorry, it's just... It's really annoying, I've ranted enough about it, you guys already know what I think about it all," Y/N waved her hand dismissively after her apology.

"Doesn't mean we don't want to hear it," Changbin reminded her, as he always did, being the great listener he is.

"Yeah, plus you know you've got our support and the fans' too, right?" Jeongin quietly pitched in, still not fully awake himself.

"I know, I know," Y/N nodded, taking a bite of her pancakes, humming in delight.

"Good?" Lee Know rose an eyebrow from across the table at her, a satisfied smile appearing on his face when she nodded enthusiastically.

Bang Chan emerged from his room just a everyone was finishing breakfast.

"Come on, time to go!"

"You missed breakfast," Changbin tutted at him, Chan only able to respond with a sheepish smile.

"You have to go so soon?" Y/N asked quietly. She could already predict how her day was going to go. Lay down, watch Netflix, sleep, repeat.

"Sorry sweetheart, got a lot of recordings to do today and we need to practice for collab stages on the show," Chan felt bad for his dongsaeng, he could tell she was feeling lonely, but they all tried their best to keep her in the loop.

"I can't even sing on the tracks?" Y/N asked hopefully, but even she knew that the answer would be...

"No, I'm sorry, you know it could make your ribs feel worse if you do. And you know you've got a physio session today, right? Seojun hyung will come round to pick you up and take you there," Chan reminded her, as she let out a groan.

"Ugh, I forgot about that. At least it gets me out of the dorms for an hour or so," she tried to see the positive side.

"See, not too bad!" Jeongin tried to encourage her, but it fell on deaf ears, knowing no one else would want to be in her position right now.

"Can someone help me to the sofa before you guys head out?" Y/N asked awkwardly. She always was awkward when doing so, feeling a guilt of some sorts that crept up on her in these types of situations.

"If we must," Seungmin playfully rolled his eyes, but was gentle nonetheless as he and Felix supported her onto the sofa.

"You comfy?" Felix double checked, shoving a pillow underneath her lower back to help with the healing of her ribs.

Y/N nodded as she took in some deep breaths, the short walk from the kitchen to the lounge leaving her a bit breathless.

"Are you sure you'll be okay, Y/Nnie?" Han bit the top of his thumb worriedly.

"I'm fine, I've got Netflix to keep me company for now, I'll see you guys later," Y/N didn't even look at them as they left, turning the TV on and hoping to block out her jealousy and irritation.

There was a knock on the door before it was unlocked and Y/N couldn't believe that she had already watched 6 episodes of Modern Family.

"Hi Seojun oppa," Y/N greeted him as he helped her stand and grabbed her crutches.

"Hi, Y/Nnie, how are you feeling today? Ready for your physio?" Seojun said warmly.

"I'm never ready, you know that," she laughed as he helped her out of the dorms and took her to the physio session.

On the way there they listened to some music, and Y/N fought deep within herself to not put her all into singing along. She couldn't make things worse. She wanted to recover as soon as possible.

Throughout the session Y/N herself felt like she was making good progress. Seojun and her physiotherapist, Soyeon, praised her as she did her exercises.

"So, only 2 more weeks left, yeah? Then it's been 4 weeks like you said and I can start working again," Y/N said with a big smile on her face. She was in a good mood from how the session went, which was soon to disappear.

"Yes, I did say 4 weeks, but I also said 4-6 weeks. Unfortunately it seems like your body is taking longer to heal than we initially expected, which isn't anything to worry about but I believe your healing process will be more in the 6 weeks," Soyeon informed Y/N, feeling bad for the younger girl.

"Right, okay, yeah, that's fine... thank you as always, Soyeon," Y/N said with a tight lipped smile and turned to Seojun with a look that said 'I want to go home now'.

And he complied. The manager felt bad, hearing the sniffles Y/N tried to hide during the journey back to the dorms. But knowing the girl, he didn't want to make a big deal of it, and simply passed her a tissue, knowing she would be thankful.

He helped her back into the dorms and took her to bed, letting her rest and feeling slightly reluctant to leave, he eventually did, sending a text to the other Stray Kids members to let them know how she was doing.

'Y/N isn't feeling too cheery. Not a good result to the session today, she's back home now. Could do with some comfort I think.'

And with that, the boys rushed home as soon as they could, not wanting their fellow member to be feeling upset. They knew she was angry, but they hadn't really seen her sadness or tears since the day her injury happened.

"Y/N?" there was a tentative knock on the door.

But Y/N didn't answer, she was too busy being curled up warmly under her duvet, her own sobs sounding muffled to her as she listened to some sad music through her airpods.

"Y/Nnie, hey sweetheart," Chan said softly, brushing her hair out of her face and removing her airpods.

"Adele? Damn she is going through it," Seungmin muttered to himself as he put the listening device to his ear, wincing lightly when Changbin heard and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Go away," Y/N tried to pull the duvet over her head not wanting the boys to see her upset but failed.

"Hey, hey, none of that, what happened at the physio appointment today?" Chan asked worriedly, thumbs swiping away the tears that ran down her face.

"Was it something serious?" Jeongin asked frowning, hoping that it wouldn't be.

Felix sat around the other side of Y/N cuddling her behind gently, for comfort.

"I've got 4 more weeks of this. 4 more weeks of doing nothing," Y/N sniffled, Felix rubbing her stomach in circles with his hand that was draped lightly across her midriff.

"I thought it was 2 more weeks?" Lee Know wondered out loud.

"Me too, but now I'm stuck here like this for even longer. Something about not healing as they expected," Y/N hiccuped on her sobs.

"Calm down, you're working yourself up, it'll be ok, those weeks will fly by," Changbin soothed her as he patted her head.

"I just hate doing nothing. I feel like I'm making you guys do all the work and making you babysit me when I should be pulling my own weight," Y/N confessed after calming herself down a bit.

"It's not like that at all. Plus, we love babysitting our maknae," Han let her know, patting her leg from where he was perched on the bed.

"Speak for yourself," Seungmin joked, making Y/N laugh, and then stop from the pain in her ribs.

"Here, silly, take these," Lee Know handed her some paracetamol to take, shaking his head fondly at her.

"I'm not silly," Y/N sleepily muttered after taking the tablets, leaning back into Felix's arms.

"You are for thinking you're making us do all the work," Chan sighed, still smiling at the girl.

"Yeah, don't worry, there's plenty for you to do when you're up and about," Lee Know said with a devilish smirk.

"That's fine by me," Y/N yawned, eyes fluttering shut.

"She's the only person I know that can sleep so comfortably at the idea of having lots of work to do," Jeongin shook his head with wide eyes.

"Told you, works like a charm," Lee Know laughed quietly at his shocked face.

They all stayed until she fell asleep, leaving just her and Felix in the room in peace.

tagged: @oo-li

#skz #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids ninth #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #stray kids x y/n

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btsmosphere · 4 months

Text

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 9: Thank me Later

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: Our villains get their moment in the sun (well, the fire…)

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 2k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing

a/n: in case anyone missed it, there has been an extra chapter this week, given the short length of chapters 8 & 9 - so, if you missed it, chapter 8 is here💜 I also reblogged a fun ask game, so check it out if you guys want to find out anything from there! remember you're always welcome in my asks whether it's for the game or just to chat about supercharged!🥰 [spoilers below] so, yn is on the team!! let's see what that looks like out in the field (or the roof of a skyscraper haha)👀

The hallway stretched away, nothing but darkness filling its bare walls. Humming in the background, the steady whir of machines from some distant room buried in the building’s depths.

Your running footsteps cut through all that.

Blood rushing through your ears and breathless gasps drowned out the night’s silence, its darkness destroyed by crackles of lightning. There was no time to form a careful glow to light your way; you sent a bolt of blue darting through the long corridor, snaking away and revealing little more than further darkness.

So they weren’t inside yet.

Impatient, you turned your palms to the back and let your powers go. A little tip you had picked up from Jungkook – the lightning launched you into the air, covering ground more quickly.

When you met the ground again, your feet were already racing.

“Do you still see them, Yoongi?”

Namjoon’s voice crackled in your ear.

“Yep, but I think they’re moving. They gave up on the east entrance…”

You couldn’t keep from rolling your eyes at Yoongi’s news. Jungkook had been guarding the east entrance, so that was no surprise.

A pause in the comms did not translate to your pace. You finally reached the end of the hallway and darted to another.

Here, several heavy doors were set into the walls. Large wheel locks hid their secrets from the world. But it wasn’t your concern what was in there. You could imagine plenty, but the task at hand was to keep them exactly where they were.

“Shit, they’re coming this way,” Yoongi cursed over the earpiece.

“The roof?”

“I’m almost there,” Hobi assured. Of course he was. With his powers, he could be anywhere on the site in no time flat.

Why was it that you were left with powers that helped nothing with physical strength or speed?

“Y/N, not that way,” Jin’s voice called you back to attention.

Skidding to a halt, you doubled back to take another turning, one you had missed in your distraction. Casting aside all thoughts of why running was so hard, you simply pushed yourself faster.

Up ahead, a lift shaft.

The call button blinked uselessly beside it. Not pausing for thought, you ignored the light and sent one of your own, much brighter and solid enough to blow the door in.

One foot landing on the fallen wood, you used it like a launchpad, two blazing bolts from your hands sending you rocketing upwards. Once you reached the elevator carriage itself, you caught hold of the outside, swinging yourself towards its entrance onto the top floor.

Here, the sound of your adversaries instantly assaulted your ears.

You didn’t know why they were bothering trying to break in when they were clearly losing. At least going for the roof had been a smart choice on their part, as the upper exits were less secure.

But they had made their presence all too obvious to give it an element of surprise.

Some crashes of impact on the metal roof rang out, heavy footsteps rattling the ceiling above you. Racing down the final, short corridor to an outer stairway, the scuffling grew louder.

Then a groan from Yoongi came from the comms. For a moment, you panicked, before hearing him speak.

“It’s Phoenix alright. Does she have nothing better to do?”

Jimin scoffed in response. “At least we can make it quick.”

Finally slowing, you cracked the side door open. Sure enough, it looked like a corner of the building was on fire. Phoenix was some upstart hero who was, quite obviously, gifted with fire. Hers wasn’t nearly as exciting as Tae’s, though, as it wasn’t purple. Just regular, store-bought orange. She had been quite vexing recently.

A stalemate had continued between Bolt’s heroes and Namjoon’s band. Fruitless battles cropped up around the place, and Phoenix was one of those trying to break through, eagerly jumping into too many of the scuffles. You almost felt bad for her. It was clear that Bolt saw her as equally disposable as you were, just some tool in his way. While she thought she was earning his favour, she was just his pawn.

There were others too, who Bolt had sent for a run with her. Neither her nor her companions had seen you, though, so you slipped out and quickly shut the door behind you, masking any light that would give the opening away.

The rickety stairs clung to the side of the building, luckily only five floors up. The powers at your fingertips admittedly lessened the fear of what would happen should you fall.

Staying pressed to the brick, you started upwards, only a few steps between you and the fight. Fiery heat pressed against you the closer you got, orange light throwing you into shadow.

As soon as you could, you peeked over the top of the roof. The cityscape opened up around you. This lab was nestled alone among a crowd of taller buildings, even the crane beside your scaffolding-clad neighbour towering higher.

On your own rooftop, nothing looked too out of hand. Hobi was successfully beating someone up, that was good.

You only spent a second scanning the scene, but when you turned to continue, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Someone was waiting for you.

For a moment, the breath was caught in your throat, before you caught the teasing glimmer of Yoongi’s eyes.

“Don’t do that!” you huffed, only mildly annoyed as you stormed past him where he was reclining on the railing at the top. It was possible you were the only one who could see him right now.

His laughter followed you into battle as you reached the rooftop and picked up the pace, shooting blue to pierce the red flames. A moment later, movement behind them. You rolled your eyes. Phoenix could be so obvious.

You shot once more, sending her fleeing the opposite way, then another. You stepped boredly out of the path of a lick of fire that came your way.

Focussed, you raised your arms- Only for gold to shoot through the night instead, flashing in the corner of your vision, whizzing close by your head.

Momentarily distracted, you whirled around with anger written on your features, ready to rage at Jungkook.

Your teammate had just arrived, racing to join you. His hair flew all over the place, eyes glittering with steel, messy and exhilarated from the night’s action. Much to your incredulity, he met your eyes with a crooked grin.

It faded to a smirk as he came into earshot.

“Thank me later.”

Before you could respond, he had taken off. A few metres from you, he tackled a body to the ground. They had been coming in your direction.

The gun they had been aiming shot its glowing forcefield uselessly away into the night.

Maybe Jungkook was useful after all.

Turning back to Phoenix, you found her rushing around the towering flames and straight toward you. Fire grew in her wake, blooming in her footprints.

All a very intimidating show.

She leapt, and you easily struck her down, catching her chest with a well-aimed blow.

Much less assured now, you watched her roll on the ground, before rising with difficulty to her knees.

“Go home, Phoenix!” you called, “it’s a school night!”

Hearty laughter sounded from behind you from the guys. Yoongi stepped to your side from his cloak of shadow, and glaring orange bloomed on your side as well, mimicking her own fire.

Just a trick of the light, but Phoenix didn’t need to know that.

She wobbled to her feet, a cowering silhouette, while you two stood firm. Inside the illusion flames, you grinned.

Clearly the sight of the lost battle finally drove some sense into the other woman. For the first time that night, she backed away. Even so, she was slow. If either of you felt so inclined, she could have been dead before another breath.

She needed to learn to retreat.

To give her a final push, Jimin arrived at the right moment. Seeing the defeated figures crawling back to Phoenix’s side, he simply raised a hand. In response, a great groaning filled the air, all heads turning to see the unused crane that stood above you start to swing.

At first, it was slow motion, but the looming hook encroached relentlessly, suspended from thick metal rope which shimmered a menacing path through the night.

Its unstoppable advance at last made the message clear. The ‘heroes’ in its way were forced to dive aside, scrambling back over the edge of the building.

Striding forwards, you watched them leave. You were framed between Yoongi and Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin joining your group, watching over the night as fire roared behind you.

“Inconsiderate, honestly,” Yoongi grumbled as he shuffled into his seat in the car, making room for you to clamber in last. “Doesn’t she know she’s wasting our valuable time? It’s movie night!”

“Whatever film we pick, it’ll be better than that,” Hoseok joked next.

As much as you might joke, it hadn’t been a bad fight. It was evident in the readiness of your laughter, loosened up after a run like that.

“You’re right guys,” Namjoon interjected from the front, “and we deserve a good night. But don’t treat Phoenix too lightly.”

You sobered up slightly at your leader’s words, but Jimin spoke up with a laugh.

“Why, Joon? You think she’s hiding some greater skill under all this? Maybe she’ll be dangerous one day?”

“No,” Joon admitted, “but it’s what she means. Bolt doesn’t care about this much anymore. He’s bowing out of these battles, he knows it’s small fry. He’ll be planning something else, and he’s sending her to keep us busy in the meantime.”

With that unsettling thought over your heads, the car pulled home, silent as the shadows disguising it.

Inside was soon a different story, though. You had no idea how Namjoon could have his head in so many places at once, clearly strategising and thinking over the Phoenix situation, but inexplicably laughing along with the others as they steadily regained their good mood.

Soon enough, Jin pulled up to the unassuming wall that hid your base.

In the garage on the other side, the lot of you spilled out. Jungkook and Jin were having an animated debate about which film to watch, Jimin chiming in with joke suggestions just to be annoying.

In the end, Phoenix’s fire barely left a singe on your evening.

All she provided was a source of amusement, really. When you did think of her, it was with something dangerously close to smugness. Your power, your team combined, left you so far and above her that it made you feel a little giddy.

That thought in the back of your mind only spurred you on in the training room. The rhythm you had fallen into with the others came easily: practising dodges with Jimin like a dance, laughing with Hobi even as you exerted yourself in the gym – and sharing electricity in the air with Jungkook.

You tried to ignore the way Jungkook would watch you, just at the corners of your vision.

As you practised a drill, if he finished before you (it always turned into an unspoken race), you had to force yourself to face front and complete it with full focus. There was something in the way he would appraise you, arms folded and quiet but practically thrumming with… something.

You would deny your curiosity. What did it mean to you what he was thinking? Whether it was critical, still picking out your faults, or whether it was something more... But how could you possibly hope for admiration from him?

The guy just had an intense stare, that was all. Heaven knows you’d been on the receiving end of his more chilling glares often enough.

It didn’t bother you, of course. There was plenty of praise to be had from the others as you settled into their team.

Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know what you think!💜

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