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rebelwrites · 1 year

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Winner Takes It All || Thirteen Just First Day Nerves

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: Its the first race weekend of the season and tensions and emotions run high

Warnings: I don’t think there is any although the ending might get me punched 🫣

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

I was surprised at first, the questions were mainly directed at Charles and Pierre about their thoughts on having a female on the track for the first time. My heart melted with both of their answers and the proud smiles on their faces.

“I have known Valentina for pretty much my entire life,” Charles beamed, glancing over at me flashing me a smile. “So we have always been pretty close, we raced and grew up together. The day I found out that she would be racing with Alpha Tauri I thought I was going to burst with pride. It had always been a dream of hers ever since we started racing so to be on the track with her whilst she achieves that dream, well that is just one of the best feelings in the world.”

I found myself having to blink back tears at Charles’ words, no matter how much pain and heartache there was between us, hearing him say how proud he was nearly reduced me to a sobbing mess but somehow I had managed to keep it together. I also wasn’t going to start crying on camera.

“So Valentina, there are quite a few articles floating around the internet about your past, some people are saying that someone with a criminal record doesn’t belong in the sport and it is giving a bad image for Formula One. What is your take on this?”

Taking a deep breath, I placed the water bottle on the floor. I had been preparing with Josh all morning and we had prepared the perfect answer, without it sounding too robotic.

“Everyone has a past, whether they like to admit it or not.” I nodded, slyly rubbing my palms on my jeans. “And yes I do have a past, one I am not afraid to admit. I was young, dumb and there was a lot of peer presure involved. I was fifteen at the time and if I could go back I would change my actions that night, but unfortunately we cannot change the past no matter how hard we try.” I said taking another breath, trying to calm myself down as I could feel myself getting worked up about everything.

Everyone in the room stayed silent.

“Since that night I have been working on myself to become a better person and learn how to deal with the pressure of life, whether that is from other people or from racing.” I said confidently. “Yes my record was sealed, but that didn’t mean I didn’t pay the price for my actions. I was banned from kart racing for half a season and I also had to do around fifty hours of community service within a homeless shelter.” I said before taking another breath. “I didn’t like the person I was becoming back then so I made it my mission to learn from my mistakes and become someone little girls can look up to.”

My heart was pounding against my chest and my stomach was churning as I looked out into the sea of reporters trying to get a grasp on their reaction to my response.

“Speaking of the past,” one of the reports smirked. “You are Charles previously dated, am I correct?”

“Yes we did.” Charles answered before I could, which I was grateful for as he took the pressure off me. “We were together for four years before I came into Formula One.”

“Are we to expect some rivalry on the track because of this? What was the reason you broke up?”

I had to bite my tongue, all I wanted to do was to tell the nosey bitch to keep her nose out of our business, this had nothing to do with them.

“The reason we broke up isn’t anyone else's business but mine and Vali’s.” Charles said, a little more harsh than normal. “And the only reason you will get rivalry on the track from me and Valentina is due to our competitive nature not to do with the fact we used to date.”

Charles had definitely had a lot more experience when it came down to press conferences, yes I had plenty during my time within W-series but they weren’t this intense.

I had honestly zoned out of the rest of the press conference, if you asked me what questions they asked I wouldn’t have a clue. So the moment I walked out of the small room I felt like I could finally breathe again.

But that didn’t last long when Charles wrapped his arms around me pulling me into a tight hug, pressing a kiss against the top of my head.

“You did amazing,” he whispered.

Pulling away from his arms I nodded at him. “Are they always that intense?” I asked.

“Not normally no.” he breathed, leaning against the wall so we were out of sight of the press. “Maybe we can go for coffee after the race, you know, to celebrate your first one.”

Raising my brow at him, “Thought you’d want to go drinking?” I questioned, a small chuckle passing my lips.

“I know you’d rather get coffee than drink.” he said, flashing me a smile that always made me feel weak at the knees. “I remember a lot of things, Vali.” he admitted in a whisper.

His confession melted my heart, maybe there was still a chance for us? Mentally I scolded myself for thinking that, especially with how broken I was because of the Monegasque that was standing in front of me. There was no way I was going to put myself in the position where it could happen again.

“So about that coffee?” he asked softly.

“I will think about it.” I nodded, I needed to get out of this situation because sooner or later I would have done something I would have regretted later down the line. “I will see you on the track Leclerc, don’t forget to bring you A game.” I laughed as I turned away from him, before he could respond I was already walking away from him with my heart racing.

Once I was a safe distance away from him I leant against the nearest wall, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm my heart rate down.

“You okay?” a voice appeared from behind me.

Spinning around I saw Lewis standing there with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” I breathed, running my fingers through my hair. “You know, just first day nerves.” I chuckled, hoping that he believed me.

“We’ve all been there kiddo,” he smiled, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve seen your racing and you have some serious talent, you are definitely going to give me a run for my money out on track.” He chuckled, with a large grin on his face. “Just remember the breath.”

“Thanks.” I smiled softly at him.

We stood chatting for a bit longer before Josh was blowing up my phone with texts asking where I was.

The weekend flew by in a blur and if I was being honest I still hadn’t come down from the high I was feeling. Yes I didn’t win my first race but coming p4 was definitely something to be proud of. The moment I stepped out of the car I was engulfed into a bone crushing hug from Pierre, Pascale, Arthur and my mum and dad, I swore they bruised my ribs with their vice like grip.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charles standing on the sidelines, kicking a pebble with the toe of his race boots. It was obvious he was holding back, I had known this boy for far too long to miss the look on his face. It was the one that said he was torn.

Wiggling my way out of the vice that was my family I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart as I strolled casually over to Charles. We needed to be civil on the track, even if I was ignoring him.

“Good race, Bear.” I smiled, standing in front of him. The moment I realised I had called him the nickname only I used to call him I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I didn’t mean to call him that, it just kinda slipped out at that moment.

The corners of his lips tugged up at the sound of the nickname, finally he looked up, his eyes clouded with tears as a proud smile appeared on his face.

“You smashed it out there, Vali.” He grinned, pulling me into a comforting hug.

Once again my heart screamed out at the contact, the fact he still had this extreme hold on me made me want to run but instead I found myself wrapping my arms around him, reciprocating in the hug. I needed to ignore the feeling of being at home in his arms. This was no longer my home and he was no longer mine.

“Jules serait tellement fière de toi. Jules would be so proud of you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Finally, my brain took over the situation and I pulled away from the hug, feeling cold without his arms around me.

“Yeah he would be,” I breathed, fiddling with the yarn bracelet that hung around my wrist. “See you around Charles.” I hummed before making a swift exit. I needed to get as far away from him as possible, I wasn’t meant to be feeling these feelings after so long but here I was craving the touch of my ex.

Pushing my way through the crowded paddock ignoring everyone who was calling my name, I needed to be alone. My eyes were stinging from the tears that had formed and I sure as hell weren’t going to let anyone see me at my most vulnerable moment, so I did what I knew best, I plastered a fake smile on my face and went into hiding.

Once I was in the sanctuary of my drivers room, the floodgates opened as I slumped into a ball on the floor. Nothing could stop the tears as they streamed down my cheeks. This was a lot harder that I had originally thought it would have been.

Every time I saw Charles all our memories played like a movie in my head, the fucker was on repeat with no way of turning it off.

The only thing I did know was that this was going to be a long fucking season and if I was going to survive I needed to make some drastic changes.

I needed to fully shut Charles out no matter how much I knew it was going to hurt me.

I couldn’t go the whole season like this.

I needed to protect my heart from being shattered to the point of non repair. Right now emotions were my weakness and if I was going to come out of this season alive I needed to become cold, ruthless and not let my emotions guide me, it was time for a new Valentina Hendrix to come out and play, one no one had seen before.

Pulling myself to my feet I stared into the mirror on the wall taking in my appearance, scoffing at how pathetic I looked. I had finally made it into the most prestigious racing sport there was and here I was bawling my eyes out over a boy who broke my heart four years ago. Glaring at my own reflection I roughly wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my race suit. I stared up at the ceiling of the room, taking a few deep breaths to try and regulate my breathing once again. It was time to focus on my racing not my heart.

It was time to pull myself up out of the ashes that remained of my broken heart and rise like the goddam Phoenix I knew I was, piecing my own heart and soul back together.

It was time for a drastic change.

The world wasn’t ready for the new Valentina Hendrix.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith @inchidentwithmax @raaaaabzzz @teamspideyman @marvelousmendess @mehrmonga

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #formula one x oc #formula one imagine #formula one x reader

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louff4tw · 2 years

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“Bruce isn’t my dad and I’m not part of this family” - Stephanie Brown

My personal headcannons of how Bruce is a dad to Stephanie and despite both of them denying it. We all know. He’s the dad she wishes hers was

- this one she doesn’t know but when she was Robin he added her into the Will and made her a college fund

- she has a room in the manor since day one for when she was “to tired to head home” took her awhile to actually spend the night but she fell asleep in the cave and Bruce carried her up

- He helped her find the couple to adopt her baby and not ONCE did he judge her

- when her Mom was to high to go. He went to Parent teacher conference

- he convinced her to transfer to the same school his other kids went to and paid for it

- also attended all school events

- when she had a bad day he would watch movies and eat ice cream with her

- he helped her pick out a college

- he punched her bio dad in the face as Bruce Wayne during a hostage situation for criticizing her ( it was a Gala even and Steph and Tim came with him)

- she doesn’t even knock when she gets to his house anymore. She has a dedicated hook on the coat rack

- has grouped her in “my kids” when talking about his kids

- accidentally spoken about her in a interview many times and always tries to backtrack

- he is just so proud of her tho did you know her baking soda volcano stuff hit the gym roof

- Bruce can be a emotional brick sometimes. But he’s trying. The first time he told her he was proud of her after a particularly bad run in with some baddies was also the first day she hugged him

- when he and the kids were walking down the street and some creep made some creepy catcalls to her and Cass Bruce got into their faces and told them never speak to his daughters like that again

- she’s in all Christmas cards

- she eventually will spend more time at Bruce’s then her own for the night

- when she was trying to get a loan for school he had to stop her and be like “I have money for you to go”

- went to several College events to

- when she got the flu he was the one who took care of her

- her favourite movies and books joined the library and movie collection

- her favourite snacks and foods were added to the grocery orders

- she once joked that she was better then her and he dead serious looked her in the eyes and said “in many ways each and every one of you are better then me and I can’t wait to see you all surpass me”

- has said that IF someone else does become Batman (which he doesn’t want) Steph and Cass are the options

- Damian calls her his sister at school and neither lived it down

- made Bruce happy tho

- she has done the “if I run at him he will catch me” and he always does and somehow always manages to never drop what he’s holding

- He never forgets her birthday when both of her parents has

- actually listens to what she wants and gets her stuff she likes. When bio dad remembers it’s little kid toys. When mom it’s clothes in her moms size and style..and from her closet

- has only called him Dad ONCE while sober. She came really close to death and got hurt and he panicked. Kicked a dude in the face and rescued her. He also carried her back home while she was sobbing. She didn’t let go for a hour and at the end mumbled “thanks dad” and booked it to the showers

- he has and will tuck her in

- will listen outside her door for a second at night to make sure she’s breAthing like he does with all his kids

- she once jokingly asked him to read her a story. And HE DID

- is her emergency contact

In the future past current continuity

- he will be the one to walk her down the isle at her wedding

- gave the shovel talk to her spouse (if not Tim)

- gets called Grandpa by her kids

- he cried. She gave him a “worlds okayest Grandpa” to match the mug

- kid has half a dozen uncles and one aunt

- supports whatever career she chose

- second and last time she ever called him Dad was at the funeral. By then she never said it to keep the joke going

The joke to them being

“He’s not my dad” “she’s not my kid”

While everyone looks on like

😑

Happy Fathers Day!

#batman #batfam #dick greyson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #Batman #Bruce Wayne #Stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #Tim Drake #red Robin #Damian Wayne #Robin #alfred pennyworth

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slytherinlesbians · 8 months

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Whumptober 2023, Day 2: "They don't care about you."

Roman is bored.

He’s been wandering around the grounds of this year’s summer house for a half hour like he’s his mother, trying to get 10,000 steps in each day. He wonders, briefly, if he should call her, but shakes his head at himself for thinking that she’d want to hear from him. If Mom had wanted them - him, Shiv and Ken - she would have tried for custody.

The divorce was finalized when he was still away at school and no one had even bothered to fucking mention it to him. Not a shred of communication from anyone. He’d arrived back from his first year at St Andrews Military School in the early stages of age fourteen with a buzzcut, a habit of jumping at loud noises, and a 70% increase of the word ‘fuck’ in his vocabulary.

At first he’d been thrilled to get away from home, but within hours of his first day at military school, he’d locked himself in a bathroom, stifling sobs against a hand towel so no one would hear him, desperate to come back. The new routine had stressed him out, made his chest feel tight. He was terrified to sleep for fear of yelling out in the night or pissing himself like he was a little kid again, so he became a walking zombie, functioning off of as little sleep as possible. He never flinched when he was screamed at or whacked around the head, but as soon as it happened for the first time, some masochistic sickness rose up in him where he decided the only person he wanted to hit him was his father. Which is fucking insane, because when Dad hits him he feels like he’s going to die for hours after - his chest and throat close up and he can barely breathe - but at least it’s familiar. At least it’s home.

He’d jumped out of the car expecting to be greeted by someone at least, but no one had been at the gates. Affronted, he’d gone searching for his mother, only to meet Kendall, who was back from his first semester at college and gave him an awkward hug before explaining that Mom had finally packed up and fucked off. It stung that no one had told him, and it stung even worse that Mom hadn’t said goodbye. He resolved to find Shiv, who loved to bitch about Mom and would know all of the details due to her habit of listening at doors, and was valiantly disappointed when his twin sister shut her bedroom door in his face.

And so it had been, for the last three days in which he’d been home: Ken doesn’t mind Roman hanging around him these days, but he listens to shitty rap and checks his computer constantly with too-bright eyes and complains about how the weed in Boston is way better than here. Shiv stays in her room or lies on the grass, sipping lemonade and reading books about politics that she barely understands. He hasn’t even seen his Dad since he got back. He’s at a conference somewhere.

“Why’s Shiv no fun anymore?” Roman says, spinning on Kendall’s desk chair.

“I dunno man,” Kendall says, lying on the ground and rolling a careful joint. “Once you left, she got real quiet. It was probably pretty lonely for her, being the only one around.”

Roman shrugs. “It’s not my fault I had to go to St Fuckyou’s.”

Kendall snorts, not looking up. “It kinda is. Maybe if you weren’t such a weirdo you’d have gotten to stay home.”

“It’s not fair,” Roman whines. “You didn’t have to go to boarding school, Con didn’t, Shiv didn’t. It’s messed up. Dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Kendall says, but his voice sounds far away. “He probably just wants the best for you, or something.”

“Yeah,” Roman says. “Or something.” He watches Kendall lick the paper and give the joint a final roll. “Hey, can I have some?”

“Fuck no,” Kendall says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, which is longer than Roman remembers it being. “Get your own. Actually, don’t. You’re too young.”

“Fuck you,” Roman says, but he didn’t really want it anyway. He wonders, vaguely, how old his brother had been the first time he’d done drugs. Speaking of brothers, he’s surprised Connor isn’t here. He’s always mixed up one strange new scheme or the other, but generally makes a point of spending summers with his younger siblings. It’s not that Roman’s desperate to see him or anything - his eldest brother is a bit of a freak - but it’d be nice to have something to do this summer.

“Have you heard from Con?” he asks his sister later that afternoon. He hangs upside down on a sun lounger. She’s sitting by the pool in a new swimsuit, sipping a virgin daiquiri and reading To Kill a Mockingbird, mostly ignoring him.

“He sent us an email,” she says, sounding bored, not looking up from her book. “Something about spending the summer building habitats for endangered snails or - some bullshit like that. Said he’s sorry he can’t see us, blah blah. No big loss. Didn’t you see it?”

“No,” says Roman, who never gets emails, therefore hasn’t bothered to sign into his account at all in the last few months. “Do you know when dad’s coming back?”

Shiv shrugs and finally looks up at him, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. “No.”

“Neither.”

“So? Since when has Dad told you where he’s going and when? He doesn’t care about you.”

“Bitch,” Roman says, pulling himself upright and sticks his tongue out at her, pretending the words don’t sting. “He doesn’t give a shit about you either.”

“Oh, boo hoo. Mom doesn’t care, dad doesn’t care, big brothers are too busy doing drugs and saving the planet,” she says sardonically. “No one pays attention to us anymore, so we can do whatever we want. Life is so terrible.”

“You used to be more fun,” he snaps, not sure why her words are getting to him so much.

“I’ve grown up,” is all she says, then looks back down.

“Fuck you too,” he mutters, standing up to resume wandering around the grounds.

He spends the summer wandering, pretending not to care that no one cares.

Roman is bored.

#whumptober2023 #no.2 #“they don't care about you.”#succession #fanfiction #mention of child abuse tw #child neglect tw #mention of drugs tw #roman roy #shiv roy #kendall roy #connor roy

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hardcore-lonewolf · 10 months

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🐈‍⬛BLACK CAT🐈‍⬛: A DC's T.T. (2003) & Y.J. (2010) X-Over Imagine

⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷

PLOT: The Team finds out the biggest fears and most shocking truths ever kept from the Black Cat by accidentally reading her secret diary about how she feels about herself. This bad little kitty got some lucky charms and some diamond claws to sharpen out once she comes back from her mission in Tokyo, Japan. How will they react to her changes? Will they uncover her lies about her past? Can they win back her trust?

⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷

MAIN CHARACTERS: Felicia Drusher | Evelina "Eva" Gwendolyn Nelson, Freddie Dinardo | Richard "Dickie" John Grayson, Kaldur'ahm | Jackson "Jack" David Hyde, Wallace "Wally" Rudolph West, Kon-El | Conner "Con" Jonathan Kent, M'gann M'orzz | Megan "Meg" Marie Morse, Xena | Ophelia "Helia" Shauni Trevor, and Artemis "Artie" Lian Crock.

Mentioned Characters: Phoebe Starr | Zatanna "Zee" Zorina Zatara, Raquel "Rocky" Sandra Ervin, Matthew "Matt" Noah Jordan, Lorenzo "Enzo" Kevin Carter, Cyberion Technis | Victor "Vic" Anthony Stone, Craig Wyld | Garfield "Gar" Mark Logan, Abigail Constantine | Rachel "Raven" Angela Roth, and Koriand'r | Korra "Kory" Scarlette Anderson.

⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷

Catgirl was sitting in front of her godfather Batman and spoke to him in sign language. He was listening to her explanation of why she won't talk about her grandmother's powers, the Lucky Girl was half alien and was a magic user. The Dark Knight held his hand up, which made the young girl stop immediately and nodded with an understanding look.

Batman knew her mother and father so well. His friends were loyal and nice to him that they let him hold their daughter, who's sitting on a chair in front of him at a conference room. The billionaire playboy was the first person who saw the symptoms and kept a sharp eye on his godchild, because Catgirl was staying silent about her pain.

"Eva, it's not good for you to hide your powers away and contain them against your will. That inhibitor collar has to come off your neck or they'll be no missions for you anymore, you're hurting yourself and not trusting what you can do. They saw how you can use magic, but this is what made you special and unique like your mother. Let me see your left arm," the Lucky Girl was hesitant and complies, rolling her long sleeve to reveal that the transformation has begun due to negative feelings and emotions. "I do truly appreciate your decisions of getting therapy from Dinah, yet you're still hiding yourself from the Team and not letting them have their pain back Eva. Your mother and her family was excellent help to you...just trust me on this and stop doubting yourself. Your insecurities will haunt you for the rest of your life if you don't tell the Team why you haven't been doing missions with them since wearing the Mask of Destiny and Helmet of Fate...please for the sake of your loved ones. We'll always love you for how caring, kind, loyal, and supportive you've been with all of us...including me."

Catgirl hugs him after pulling her sleeve down and covering the proof. Batman pats her back as she begins silently crying and sobbing. The Dark Knight let her break down into tears and hide her face from the view of Justice League members, who were part of the meeting about the Lucky Girl.

Once the meeting was over, Batman held her hand in his and ruffles her hair. Catgirl smiles sadly up at her godfather and nods. He lets her go back to Mount Justice and hears her designation number being called out.

"Bruce, I know you're worried about her like I am, that's why she got us and the rest." The Dark Knight sighs and hugs his best friend Astro Woman. "We gotta hope for the best and pray nothing bad happens over in the mountain, especially when Wally tends to surprise her the most."

Catgirl walks through the Boom Tube with her bag on her back and tired eyes. Her platinum white wig was miraculously stuck in a high ponytail and her matte black lipstick wasn't stained around her soft lips. The Team heard their teammate walking and saw the Lucky Girl still exhausted from last mission, which almost cost her life.

"Hey Cat, how's your meeting at the Hall of Justice?" Catgirl grumbled softly underneath her breath and tiredly plops onto Wonder Girl, who caught the Lucky Girl on time.

"You want me to carry you to your room Kitty?" The Lucky Girl nodded quietly and clung onto the female demigod's front.

Wonder Girl carries her back into her bedroom and gently set the younger girl onto her bed. Catgirl hums in appreciation and purrs softly as the Amazon warrior pets her head, coaxing her to fall asleep hard. As soon as Wonder Girl heard soft snores and deep breathing from the Lucky Girl, she smiles and puts a blanket over the young girl.

The female demigod carefully left the room and closed the door. Wonder Girl heads back to the lounge, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend Aqualad and shaking her head no with a deep frown. The Atlantean soldier understood that look and knew it meant there's something wrong with their youngest member.

Ever since the Team was formed...Catgirl was the first heroine to be part of it, she lived in the mountain and was always doing her work at her bedroom due to personal spacing. The Lucky Girl got used to the Boy of Steel and would be his support system whenever he's having problems with Superman, which shocked the Justice League cause the young mute girl rarely let people rather than them and Red Arrow be close to her. The rest of the original members in the Team will treat her like a baby and always adore Catgirl for being independent.

For example...the Team came back wounded and hurt, she sprung from her chair in front of the Super Computer and took them to med bay. Wonder Girl managed to heal herself and helped the Lucky Girl with treating their comrades, though an appreciative comment from the Boy Wonder threw Catgirl's brain off so quick that she went redder than a strawberry. The three teenage girls never stopped pinching her rosy cheeks since that incident, what got the Lucky Girl on her feet and running away into her hiding places from the trio will be the words "DRESS-UP", and all four boys will chuckle from how the mute girl showed fear for the first time.

"Is Cat okay?" Superboy asked the female demigod, worrying about the mute girl who became a baby sister to him.

"The League took her to an important conference meeting this morning, based on her reaction...they wore her out." Robin answered for the Boy of Steel.

"Roy did claim to me that Cat's been keeping a secret from us, he thinks she's the mole...but seriously? If she was the traitor, how come she'll always return back in the mountain stressed out and exhausted? That's the most dumbest thing I'd ever heard," the Amazon warrior explained to them.

"Unless...we could...you know," the teenage speedster suggested, earning raised eyebrows and confused looks until they realize what Kid Flash was trying to suggest.

"Baywatch, Cat will never forgive us if we do that. That's her private diary, it has her personal life in it." Artemis told him, smacking him upside his head.

"First off...Ow! Secondly, don't act like you wanna know what she writes in it." Robin nodded in agreement and the rest was hesitant, but they finally agreed to their plan. "Now who's getting it and the key?"

The Team said "NOT IT" at different times, Robin groans in defeat s the rest gave him pointed looks and the Boy Wonder does the deed. He slowly hacks into the room and slides the door open, seeing the Lucky Girl curled up asleep in a tiny ball. Robin smiles and quietly awes at his crush's cuteness.

'Alright Robin, it's just a book. My crush's book of secrets, it can't be that bad.' The Boy Wonder thought as he sneakily took her book case with the key and leaves the dark bedroom without being noticed. 'Cat must be dead asleep from that meeting with our mentors, poor little kitten must be tired from all those mission reports as well to stack that much stress on her body.'

Robin silently closes the door and resets the password to her grandma's name. Kid Flash immediately takes his best friend to the living room and they high-five with proud grins on their faces. The Team sat down on their chosen spots as Miss Martian takes the book and opens the case with the key.

"This is so wrong in so many levels guys," the female archer said while seeing the front cover has a picture of her with the Team on it. "She got us on the front and the back...let's hurry and agree not to do this anymore."

The female Martian takes the personal book out from the case and sets the diamond box down. Catgirl's private diary was themed with black words, gray covers, white paper, and silver lining. Miss Martian gulps nervously and passes the book to Wonder Girl, who gave her best friend a wide-eyed look of disbelief.

"M'gann," the female demigod said with an offended look. "How could you? I'm not dying in the hands of a twelve year old girl...here Rob, you read it."

The Boy Wonder pouts at Wonder Girl and opens the book. Robin begins reading it out loud to his comrades, blushing when he finds out Catgirl got a crush on him and saw many insecure thoughts she has about herself. Red Arrow was wrong about the Lucky Girl, but they were beginning to feel concern on the mute girl's issues and problems.

"Ever since the League found out what was happening to me within the Helmet of Fate, I've been contacting my grandfather Kent through Nabu with my grandma's help and assistance with the Mask of Destiny. All the stress, fear, and pain was causing negative reactions to my powers and humanity. My father fixed one of those problems...that golden collar on my neck, it was containing my alien side from losing control and it sorta helped me. After twelve years of it on my neck, it's not working and was making it worse. The Team are starting to see signs of it, I've lost my appetite with food last week, I couldn't get sleep since a few months ago, and becoming much sensitive with my emotions on a daily basis that Batman forced me into therapy sessions with Black Canary. I'm afraid of the rejection and betrayal the people I cared the most think of me. There's five stages of it, I went through four of them, the fifth one will be most painful one cause this will damage me inside out and turn me into a monstrous freak. I got many anxiety attacks and went into panic mode during the meeting. I'm not relieved from it, not because my grandmother injected me with my painkillers and antidepressants...I had almost hurt the League. I know they're scared of me...who won't? After all, I'm nothing but a burden and a monster. Nobody can change that, not even the Team...I should probably run away and never return to Earth after tomorrow night when everyone's asleep. They won't be hurt anymore...especially when I'm gone far away from my grandmother's home planet." Robin read, closing it and putting it inside the black box.

The Boy Wonder locked the box shut and hung the key back onto its hook behind the case. Robin got up from his spot and walks to his crush's room. The Team watches their youngest male teammate slowly opens the door and sees that Catgirl was still resting.

Kid Flash ushers Robin out of the room and freezes when the Lucky Girl moves in her sleep. The rest drags the two boys out from her room before letting Superboy close the door shut and hearing it lock itself automatically. The Team frowns sadly as they stared at Catgirl's bedroom door and felt guilty for how they assumed that she's the mole.

The next day inside the mountain, Catgirl wakes up and does her daily routine before taking her prescribed medication. The Lucky Girl rolls up her long sleeves and gasps silently when she sees it got worse than ever from the nightmarish thoughts echoing her head. The mute girl takes a deep breath and hides the proof from view.

"Kitty, are you up yet?" Wonder Girl asked the Lucky Girl.

The young child quickly grabs her baggy jacket and a pair of black sweatpants to conceal how her casual clothes she loves wearing the most have vanished. Catgirl puts on her wig and applied her makeup before putting on her shades. The Lucky Girl heads out of her room with her bag strapped on her back with her diary case hidden inside it and walks to the kitchen for some fruit.

Once she found a green apple, the Black Cat vigilante took a bite from it and passes her teammates with a greeting wave. Catgirl pets Wolf and rubs Sphere gently with a softened look while going outside to the beach. The Lucky Girl begins absorbing some solar energy and feeling it generate some pure cosmic mana for her to devour by consuming the life-force phoenix within her inner self.

Inside the mountain, Robin begun hacking into the cameras and managed to get full access to the beach's ones. The Team watched Catgirl meditate by herself on a large rock and levitating, which made them shocked cause they thought it was all something she wrote behind their backs. The Lucky Girl used her mana to grab a bottle of nectar and drank the liquid, humming in content while she takes pure magic energy from the Sun and use the life-force from the Moon to try fixing her issues.

"Everything in that book was true, she does have powers." Kid Flash said.

The seven heroes noticed something glowing from her left side, the Team gasps in disbelied when Catgirl rolls up her long sleeves to reveal that her right arm was scarred and her left arm was encased with some kind of cosmic ice mana. They continued seeing the Lucky Girl getting distressed and on high alert. The mute girl begun taking deep breaths and slowly tries to calm down.

"That was her secret," their leader told them after understanding why she wore long sleeves and anything baggy.

"Recognize: Catgirl; B-0-0."

The Team froze to hear their beloved comrade's designation number called out by the Super Computer and knew she's behind them now. Wonder Girl slowly turns and sees Catgirl, who was looking scared and was actually frightened. The rest followed and knew by her scared expression that the Lucky Girl was caught red-handed.

"Cat, it's not what it looks like. We're worried about you," the Lucky Girl immediately flinches when Superboy takes a step forward and tries not to lose her composure.

"What was that on your arm?" Catgirl shook her head no while backing away and panting with a horrified look on her face.

"We're not gonna hurt you Kitty, we wanna help you get through this...just trust us okay?" Wonder Girl told her, following the mute girl and walking closer to the young child's personal space.

'Get away Opal, stay away from me.' Catgirl thought while shaking like crazy and trying not to lose control of her powers. 'Stay away from me, stay away from me, stay away from me...'

The Team could see that Catgirl was sweating from the fear and discomfort while she cuffs her hands together to keep her powers in check. The Lucky Girl's inner self was trying their best with her host and attempting to comfort the mute girl from the tension. As soon as Wonder Girl got closer, their six comrades grew concerned and wait for the next move.

"I said...STAY...AWAY...FROM ME!!!" An energy wave of mana was shot through her hands and hit Wonder Girl hard along with their loved ones, who groaned in pain from the magic blast.

'I hurt them,' the Lucky Girl thought with fear and guilt. 'I really am a monster...'

Robin watches Catgirl rushes into the Boom Tube through blurry eyes, hearing her call number and passing out with his six best friends. The Lucky Girl made it to her stop at the nearest subway station and luckily got herself a ticket. She sat down on the bench and wait for her subway train to come.

"Excuse me miss," the Lucky Girl turned to see some little kids and gave them a wave. "Do you got some food and water for us?"

Catgirl nodded, she begun taking out some sandwiches and bottles of water from her duffle bag. The kids thanked the mute girl and hugged her, which she responded with a pat on their backs and ruffling the hair on their heads. The Lucky Girl got her violin and thought about something to do for the children.

The selectively mute girl put her duffle bag to the side with a protective mana shield around it and stood on the bench. Catgirl thought about the hard times and good memories she have with the Team. The Lucky Girl takes a deep breath and begins playing her song.

Once the song ended, the people surrounding her applauded for her performance and put some money into her backpack. Catgirl bows for the crowd and hands some candy to the children, who cheered for her generous gifts to them. The Lucky Girl put her violin back in its case and heard her train number.

'Great, Raven and the rest are going after me too.' Catgirl thought as she heard her crow cawing ring tone for Raven, hanging up and setting her phone on silent mode.

Meanwhile near New York City, the Team couldn't find their Black Cat and won't give up searching for the mute girl. Catgirl's icy aura left some trails that leads to her and the seven sidekicks followed them to reach the fixed subway station underground at Manhattan. The Lucky Girl must've gotten down there for a train ticket and go somewhere else.

Around Broadway, Catgirl stepped onto her destination and gave a sincere smile to the people who helped her with her things. The Lucky Girl walked upstairs and saw the lights in amazement. The mute girl was relieved that her clothes she wore was back in her bag, but her gym clothes was affected by the transformation and was worrying her a lot.

The transformation was almost done, Catgirl got until midnight and the pain will fade from her body by replacing it with euphoria. Her inner alien side was keeping her stable from the toxicity of every environment and person she walks into by accident. The Lucky Girl tightens her cloak and vanishes into the shadows of night.

"Cat? Cat, where are you? Please come back home, we miss you." The Lucky Girl froze to hear the worry and saw the concerns of the Team's faces.

Catgirl gulps while looking at the mirror, seeing that it was getting darker and the metamorphosis was getting close to completion. She checks her watch and went scared...it was around eleven fifty-five at night, which meant her travel through New York City and its famous place must've been lasting longer than a hour. Catgirl kept her breaths silent and her heart couldn't stop beating like crazy.

The Lucky Girl suddenly shivers from the cold air and tries not to sneeze, which will trigger Superboy into finding her first. She held back the noise while sneaking away and going between a billboard. Catgirl sighs in relief until she lets out a sneeze, which sounds soft and cute like a kitten.

The Cadmus clone heard Catgirl's adorable sneeze, freezing and snapping his head at the billlboard. His six teammates followed his glance to the billboard where they were having a music award show and realized that she was in Broadway. Catgirl begun panicking with distress while her ice mana went into waves of energy and kept glowing bright like the stars in the sky.

"Kitty, please...for everyone's sake, just show yourself and we'll take you home...safe and sound." Catgirl scoffed from Wonder Girl's words in response, she sees a clear opening and takes a deep breath. "Cat...I don't wanna chase you all through morning, it's Saturday now and all I wanna do now...is sleep."

Catgirl's black pupils turned into slits and she let her transformation consume her completely after hearing her watch beep, signaling that it has struck midnight. The Lucky Girl starts flying in the air and the Team begun chasing her. Catgirl dodged the signs and construct some cold mana to block her loved ones from grabbing her.

The mute girl found herself flying to Central Park and hiding inside one of the cherry blossom trees, shifting into a white cat with blue eyes and black collar that has a silver bell on it. The Team reached there, they didn't see her use her witch arts to turn into a cat and climb up the blooming tree. Robin and Artemis saw ice footprints of a cat leading up to the tree they saw in front of them.

"Cat, please come down." Robin said, desperately begging for his crush to come down the tree.

"No! Go away!" Catgirl replied, refusing to come down and face her fifteen loved ones. "Y'all went through my book and spied on me to see my secret! I just wanna be left alone...like I'm always been."

The Boy Wonder begun climbing up the tree, seeing Catgirl as a domestic white feline heal herself with her mana to close the scars and burns away. Robin sees the burns on the cloak and knew they accidentally hurt her during their chase, which led to her using her magic for a portal as a transportation route to Central Park. Not only that, Catgirl took off the cloak and left it behind after it made her feel uncomfortable.

He kept his eyes alert while she shifts out of that form and reveals something...beautiful. The Lucky Girl was looking extraordinary within her final alien form and was trying not to have another anxiety attack. Catgirl felt a familiar presence close to her space, which meant her crush and destined mate have found her.

The younger vigilante slowly turns and grew scared to see Robin staring at her form. She saw his hand reaching out for her and flinches out of fear. The Boy Wonder shushes her soft whimpers as he pulls her in a hug and she breaks down into tears.

"Shhh, it's okay Cat, we're not hurt, you're not alone." Robin said, comforting the Lucky Girl as she hiccups and sobs in his chest. "We're sorry for what we've done...please, just come home with us."

Catgirl closes her eyes and lets the Boy Wonder carry her out of the cherry blossom tree. The rest of the Team freezes to see the Lucky Girl went through her final transformation and became her true form. Robin cradles her close while she cries softly in his chest and clung onto him tight.

Catgirl slowly relaxes and turns to face the Team with her head down. When she raises her head up, Miss Martian was shocked to see an Anodite for the very first time and realized that bedtime stories about that alien species from her uncle were true...the Lucky Girl was one of them. The female Martian walks over to the shy girl and hugs her tight, causing Catgirl to freeze with shock and accidentally release a wave of mana from her body that made the rest of the Team relaxed.

'Oh you poor little thing,' the female Martian said to Catgirl in a telepathic link while holding Catgirl.

'Why M'gann,' the Lucky Girl whined while blushing and hugging her back. 'Conner, help me...she won't let me go now.'

Superboy joins the hug with the rest of their friends, Catgirl pouts at the alien couple in betrayal for their friendly affections on her and how it spread towards them. The Lucky Girl's inner felt the trust and safety within all fifteen sidekicks, leading for the shy girl to close her eyes in content. As soon as the Team pulled away, Catgirl opens her eyes and felt somebody holding her hand in theirs.

Robin squeezes it in reassurance before kissing her forehead and she squeaks, flustering madly while the rest smiles at the two vigilantes. Catgirl crosses her arms and grew a bit confident. The Boy Wonder sees the mischievous smile written on her lips and was suddenly floating around her cyan mana hair, staring at his crush in amazement for pulling that trick while their loved ones watched the two from above.

"You're beautiful Cat, I wish I could've help you with your pain." Robin told her softly while she hugs him and hums with a bright grin on his face.

"You and the Team did that, I can actually sense the genuine worry and concern y'all have for me. I finally realized that I wasn't alone anymore, I have all of you...especially you pretty bird." Catgirl replied before kissing him passionately and smiling when Robin kisses her back.

The two pulled away as the Lucky Girl helped them both safely on lower ground and smiled at each other, chuckling at the romantic scenario with amusement. Robin was about to kiss her again when Kid Flash cheekily takes Catgirl and zooms away from his best friend. The Boy Wonder gawks at the speedster in shock as he storms after him and tries to grab his Black Cat back.

"Did you get your picture now Artie?" Artemis nodded with a victorious smirk and sends it to Roy with the money signs on it.

"Told that jerk Robin will be her first kiss, he lost big time." Her four comrades chuckled before heading into the Bio-Ship with their female archer.

Robin came back with Catgirl over his shoulder and back in her human form at last, setting her down by his side. Kid Flash sped up and went in the ship next. The two vigilantes smile before stepping into there and holding hands together...as a young couple.

⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷

WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, MUSH, HURT, COMFORT.

⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷⊶☾⊷❍⊶☽⊷❍⊶☾⊷

COMMENT DOWN BELOW & FOLLOW.

#artemis crock #conner kent #dick grayson #kaldur'ahm #m'gann m'orzz #wally west #dc comics imagine #ocs #young justice #dc oneshot #dc crossover #spitfire #supermartian #dick grayson x oc #kaldur'ahm x oc #jackson hyde #kon el #megan morse

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lifewithoutmeds · 2 years

Text

September 18, 2022

Sunday, 8:11 a.m.

i just got back from about a 45-minute walk. it’s been much cooler, which has been nice. no need to blast the a/c all day, and the nights are almost chilly.

so i’m back from florida, back in the old digs, back in the old hang of things.

i’ve had a pretty persistent headache for five days now, but today’s doesn’t feel as bad as past days, fortunately.

i suffered two pretty bad blows last wednesday: despite telling people that i was no longer in love with lorena, etc., i found myself once again pining after her, checking the time, trying to figure out where she’d be, and why she wasn’t texting me back. she was at work with a no-phone policy. she was taking one of her famous 5-hour naps. she was so involved and so present with the current task at hand, that she was not looking at her phone. she was in a several-hour jam session that would leave her fingers bleeding. there were always so many reasons why she wouldn’t text back. CA wanted to try and apparently prove a point, and made a request to follow her on the ig, and .... possibly predictably, Lo accepted her follow request and requested her own follow, prior to responding to my multiple text messages, and never acknowledging my ig message. meaning, so obviously, so apparently, that she LITERALLY cares more for a RANDOM STRANGER than she does about me. i’m functionally less than a nobody to her. with this rather irrefutable evidence presented before me, i was incomprehensibly shocked before basically running out to go sob dramatically while looking out at the marina. randomly i saw for the very first time, a small octopus scuttling in the rocks right below me and i teams messaged CA to come look, and she soon joined me and stood with me, comfortingly and apologized for ... the situation, and she saw me cry again. and i told her that i wasn’t always like this, wouldn’t always be like this, that one day she’d see me better, and she said she had no doubt she would. she’s such a good person.

shortly afterward, i was looking on fb and j posted numerous photos with her camping with the new gf: the tent, them in their sleeping bags, climbing rocks, the usual happy j, but this time with the new gf and not me. i was forlorn, drove to the fifth, and drank, but couldn’t even drink enough to dull the pain, drank as much as i wept, then left half a PBR on the bar before leaving.

for the past couple nights, Lo and i had planned watching the l word together, and for the past couple nights, she’s canceled/postponed. it’s too late, the time she proposed is now 30 minutes past her bedtime. i don’t know why she puts up with me. i don’t know why i put up with her lack of ability to put up with me.

wednesday was interesting because it was the first day we were all back in the office (less a few people, notably amir who was at a long beach conference). so ivy and CA listened with rapt interest at my stories and laughed and said we’d need weekly meetings via Teams when i was gone so they could take out the popcorn and catch up on my shenanigans. it was all said so playfully, and none of us would know how thoroughly crushed i would be by same said shenanigans by day’s end.

AA was texting me yesterday, most likely because we had very loose plans to get dinner that same day, which i ended up canceling due to a very valid headache and stomachache (i had previously had a stomachache, which was not helped any by the AYCE fogo de chao hours earlier). she went on and on about some boy she had briefly dated but they hadn’t corresponded in 5 weeks but she was still obsessing over it and i found myself very flippantly just telling her to get over it, while realizing that she sounded like me, and she sounded absolutely insane. now i think i’ll envision her doing or saying something i would want to do or say and more clearly able to articulate whether or not it’s insane. sending someone a huge thing of flowers or chocolates TO THEIR WORK, if AA did, would be INSANE. planning an entire trip around meeting someone once is INSANE. so many of the things i’ve done, said, and thought, now sound/look absolutely insane when i put it through the lens of, Would A do this?

i want to tell her to be cool. to stop ruminating. to work on herself. to not talk so damn much. to just eat healthy, exercise, read, work hard, and reflect often. i’d like the same for myself. i haven’t been reading as much as i would like to so i need to get back on that, but fortunately the writing’s been pretty steady/consistent.

may write later today, the day having hardly started.

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crispin-kreme · 2 years

Text

tot boys when they walk into you crying

characters: luke pearce, artem wing, vyn ritcher, marius von hagen

warnings: breakdowns, possible ooc since this is my first time writing for tot, grammatical errors

notes: gender neutral reader as always. also i didn’t make the mc their s/o here yet to add a bit of spice :,D anyways enjoy!

ps: this is kinda long whiee

LUKE PEARCE

he’s seen you cry a lot since when you were younger. i mean, he’s been with you for half of your life so yeah

luke wanted to visit you at your apartment and so he did. he did not expect he could hear your sobs from outside.

upon hearing your sobs, he knocks frantically “y/n, are you alright?” he voices through outside. once you heard his knocking, you quickly wiped your tears.

when you had to let luke in and entertain him, he doesn’t hesitate to ask why were you crying.

“why were you crying?” he asks “nothing really… just something personal.” you said with a hoarse voice.

he doesn’t push you to tell every thing since its personal. luke stays with you for the whole damn night until you get better.

luke will do anything to see you smile, its the only thing he wants to see after three years.

ARTEM WING

artem has just gotten out from his office. its late at night already, maybe about 10PM when he finished.

he has in fact, never saw you cry. why would you cry in front of your boss y’know?

once he gets out of his office, he sees you. then hears soft sobs as he gets closer.

were you crying? he asks himself. he doesn’t know what to do. he panics a bit inside. he has never seen you like this.

artem approaches you with your palms against your tear stained face. “y/n, are you… crying?” he asks straightforward. you were quickly startled and you wiped of your tears.

“oh mr. wing! its nothing.” you laughed it off. “you’re not okay.” he says. “what’s wrong?” he asks worriedly. you have never really seen him like this.

your words then slipped out of your mouth like wind “i- i can’t do this case.” you admitted. artem was stunned, he actually felt bad that he gave you that case.

“why didn’t you tell me?” artem would ask. you would explain that you didn’t want to burden him any longer.

“i’ll take you home and accompany you for the night. i–” he paused “i don’t like seeing you like this.”

he gives you his handkerchief (its clean dw) for you to wipe your tears. aw

yes, he accompanies you for the night. both of you talk the case out. he actually cooks for you to make you feel better and he flodded his mouth with apology’s.

artem loves you dearly and he wouldn’t like seeing you hurt. he wishes that you know about his feeling soon.

VYN RICHTER

ah yes, your personal psychiatrist that you don’t know that he manipulates you /j

vyn has never seen you cry nor your vulnerability.

but he instantly sees this when he gets back from making you tea.

you were at his office talking about a challenging trial that you will face the next day. once he left, you poured out your emotions. you never wanted vyn to see you cry.

vyn gets worried and sits across you. “what’s wrong?” he asks. he quickly identifies what could be the root cause of your tears “are you crying because of the trial tomorrow?” he asks.

you silently nodded “just a lot of emotions.” you sniffled. “you can talk to me.” vyn offers his assistance.

“isn’t this basically your job?” you asked “make people talk to you and make them feel better mentally.” you explained.

vyn still flashes a worried look at you. “i’ll do anything to make you feel better.” he says.

even though its part of his job, he still wants you to feel better. he loves you and he wouldn’t bear the fact seeing you hurt.

MARIUS VON HAGEN

marius has never seen you cry and turns serious once he does see you actually cry.

you were waiting for him in the conference room, crying out of fear. you handled a case involving the pax company and now you lost the trial.

“there’s my favorite attorney! now what’s the up– oh my god are you crying?” boom, his emotions swicthed fast. he looks at you stunned and worried.

you wiped your tears “obviously, there’s no good news.” you laughed. “its simple. i lost, okay?” you said as little droplets of tears poured down. marius doesn’t give one shit about the case at this point.

“its alright. you did your best.” he reassures you. his comforting side was new to you, you have never seen him like this.

you looked at him confused “you’re not mad? you literally lost!” you exclaimed “well- all i care about is your well being. i’m being serious when i say i care about you.” he says.

marius sighs “let’s go out. maybe let’s take a walk and i’ll try my best to make you feel better.”

despite the jokes, he cares about you. like a lot. he loves you and you just don’t know it. he hopes to tell you about his feelings soon.

#its already 12am i should sleep lol #tears of themis imagines #tears of themis #tears of themis headcanons #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis scenarios #tears of themis angst #tot #tot imagines #tot x reader #tot angst #tot headcanons #tot scenarios #luke pearce #artem wing #vyn richter #marius von hagen

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 306: the beginning of the WHAT

Previously on BnHA: Nana and the Gang were all, “hey Deku, we can read your thoughts and feelings so we should already know the answer to this, but for some reason we want to quiz you on whether or not you’d be down to kill Shigaraki Tomura.” Deku was all, “um okay, well tbh, probably not seeing as Saving People has been my entire thing since literally the start of the series.” The Vestiges were all, “yes that makes perfect sense and again we already knew that, but well, good for you buddy and I’m glad we had this talk. Anyway I guess we should ask these two cryptic fuckers in the corner to finally turn around now before we run out of -- ” and then the chapter ended. Because OF COURSE IT DID.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, WOULDN’T IT BE SO MUCH BETTER IF I GAVE YOU A CONFUSING CHAPTER WHERE EVERYONE FINALLY LEARNS ABOUT OFA, AND GOES BACK TO THE DORMS, AND THEN THE CHAPTER ENDS WITH DEPRESSED NOMAD DEKU STANDING ON A PRECIPICE WITH GRAN TORINO’S TATTERED CAPE FLOWING IN THE WIND.” Everyone is all, “???????????” Horikoshi is all, “also the parents are moving to the U.A. campus, and Jeanist’s neck is two and a half feet long, for everyone that was wondering.” Everyone is all, “WHERE ARE KACCHAN AND TODOROKI AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHO ARE THE SECOND AND THIRD USERS”, and Horikoshi is all, “:)” and fades away into nothingness like the fucking fae he is. Like a fucking imp who’s kept his end of the cursed bargain. What, the, fuck.

okay guys, so after the longest Thursday of my fucking life, during which I was secretly hoping that my spoiler containment net would be somehow be breached, inadvertently exposing me to theta spoiler radiation, so that I could be all “oh no... spoilers... there’s nothing I can do... I have no choice but to look” (which sadly did not happen), it is finally Friday and the chapter is finally out. so I’ve got my clown kit at the ready and other self-deprecating memes on standby, and I’m ready to go. and I should note that I’m also ready for Horikoshi to pull some absolute bullshit and be like, “oh you know what, we haven’t checked in with Rat Principal in a while have we” and spend the entire chapter on nonsense like that. I’M READY FOR FUCKING ANYTHING so bring it

(ETA: it would be nice if this man wouldn’t call my bluff every now and again.)

oh, right, we were due a color page! wow look at this

isn’t this supposed to be the future?? what’s with all of these staticky CRT TVs

anyway, so! is this the first time we’ve seen Tomura’s stylish finger prosthetic glove thingy in color?? because I didn’t expect it to be red. also, at some point you just have to give in and change your pants into cutoffs or something, Tomura. start a new trend of stylish villain capris

meanwhile Deku is dressed like he’s going on a journey into the desert to find a mystical oasis. actually this cape looks a lot like Gran Torino’s. I have to go back and see if Gran’s is all raggedy like this

(ETA: it wasn’t before but APPARENTLY IT IS NOW. I also forgot that Horikoshi had showed it sitting on a side table in the hospital a few chapters ago.)

lastly, AFO looks like someone’s thumb after they’ve been washing dishes for twenty minutes. you are just the ugliest dude in history, and as always, fuck you

HAHAHA SOB I KNEW IT

oh, Twowy McTwoface is finally starting to turn around? better CUT BACK TO DEKU’S HOSPITAL ROOM THEN. wouldn’t want to accidentally ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS or SOLVE ANY MYSTERIES, god forbid

well, whatever. whatever!! anyway so now someone’s knocking at the door. I say “someone” but we all know it’s Hawks

yep

they were actually standing outside the door for a while hoping they’d overhear another juicy plot conversation, but no such luck this time

lmaooo Jeanist wtf

acting all embarrassed, but you’re really just as curious as Hawks is. making him do all the dirty work for you huh

ARE YOU SERIOUS THIS IS AN INJUSTICE

so like two seconds after Katsuki gets dragged away you open the door for the rest of them!! well, fine!! I really want it to be a more private/personal moment between the two of them anyway so let the other kids check in on Deku first then

and in the meantime, time to see Hawks put the thumbscrews to All Might’s resolve lol

I wonder how much of it Hawks has already put together in the last five minutes. One for All is something connected to All for One that Tomura seems to want. Tomura was apparently targeting Deku. that’s more than enough to make a few deductions right there. I wonder how much Hawks knows about Deku’s quirk. he did watch the sports festival, and he ran into the kids interning under Endeavor that one time

okay well maybe he hasn’t put the rest of it together just yet, but Hawks is making a pretty reasonable pitch here to All Might

also this is a pretty spectacular view. is this a hospital or a hotel??

AHLKJLKJLKJ ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO TELL THEM

OH MY GOD HE IS?!?!

JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED, THE NEXT TWO PEOPLE TO LEARN THE TRUTH ABOUT OFA ARE GOING TO BE HAWKS, AND BEST FUCKING JEANIST

-- LFKLKKLDK ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. ARE YOU --

( •̀_•́ )

[sitting cross-legged on the ground pulling up little clumps of grass and letting them fall from my fingers one by one] yeah. sure. okay. fine. sure

-- OKAY, NO. NUH-UH. NO

everybody better hold tight cuz I’m about to pick up this whole chapter and yeet it into the ocean like a fucking frisbee lol

HORIKOSHI I DON’T CARE ABOUT THESE PEOPLE SITTING HERE WATCHING TV WTF

-- OH

well okay then. proceed. though lord help me if they’re about to reveal the secret of OFA to the whole fucking world skdkj

oh snap

well, there it is. pretty much what I expected, but it’s good to actually get to see this moment with him taking responsibility

though at the same time, thank you Horikoshi for not forcing us to sit through the rest of that

their fucking faces omg. okay but seriously, what nation doesn’t secretly love a good scandal

the Endeavor Pamphlets, part two. thank you for giving the country something to opine about on twitter in these trying times, Enji

so now they’re asking about Hawks and Jeanist but I cannot even focus on anything all of a sudden because what?!

is Jeanist even a real actual human being you guys?! are we sure he’s not three kids sitting on each other’s shoulders?? are you related to that one guy with the really long neck from the Jedi Council?? are you Orochimaru, bro??

so now Hawks is apologizing for the murder of Twice, and for hiding the connection with his dad

the fact that he has to give this serious formal apology and beg forgiveness for the shameful crime of Having An Abusive Father is really something else, though. just. it’s realistic, but I still hate it

moving on now to the one thing he actually does owe the public an explanation for

not to go all “Hawks did nothing wrong” on you guys yet again, but seriously. 100% facts. fandom can (and no doubt will) debate this until the end of time, but if Twice had gotten away they wouldn’t be having this press conference right now because there wouldn’t be any heroes left to give one. anyways though, I’ve already said more than enough about that in previous posts

so now some severe-looking lady with the weirdest fingers I’ve ever seen is saying that her mother was injured during Machia’s rampage

and she’s basically all “a fuck lot of good ‘I’m sorry’ does us all about now.” true true

wow she’s really getting fired up

and now Enji is basically saying that he understands that an apology isn’t enough, and what they really need now are solutions. okay, well! SO THEN WHAT IS THE PLAN THEN

hmmfsdgh

this eloquent PEZ dispenser makes a good point you guys

wait, hold up

CERTAIN citizens?? um excuse me, what??

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit

holy shit. well, this will go over well

okay! so this tells me a number of things, though

basically the minute that Hawks learned about One for All, he realized that anyone connected to Deku (e.g. Inko) would be a target for AFO. AFO wants OFA, meaning AFO wants Deku, and one of the easiest ways to get to Deku would be to target his family

Hawks therefore realized that Inko needed to be placed into protective custody

but the fact that ALL of the hero course students’ families (and is it only the U.A. hero course, or all of the hero course students across the country?) are being given protection tells me that Hawks and co. don’t want to single Deku out as being important. so then it looks like they’re not going to tell everyone about OFA (or at least not the public. which, good). so rather than drawing suspicion by saying “we’ve got to protect everyone connected with this one kid”, they’re making it seem like all the U.A. kids’ families are getting this treatment

but since the heroes are now spread so thin, they can’t just send a protective detail to each and every family, so they’re bringing all of the families to the same place instead to better keep an eye on them

so that’s all well and good, and a very smart move. except that idk how all of this is going to go over with the general public, all of whom are probably feeling unsafe at the moment, and who will probably see this as preferential treatment -- basically just the heroes looking after their own and leaving everyone else to fend for themselves

(ETA: okay so @hanashimas’ translation clarifies that U.A. is offering their services as an evacuation shelter for everyone who wants it, not just the families of the U.A. students. that’s much more appropriate so I withdraw my previous “wtf” reaction lol.)

anyway though here’s Mitsuki and Inko

can we take this as confirmation that the two of them really are friends? that’s one piece of fanon that I’ve always hoped was true, so I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s confirmed

(ETA: also this means that Hagakure’s parents (or maybe “parents” in quotation marks) will supposedly be moving in as well. sure am curious as to how that’s going to go.)

now someone in the press crowd is asking whether U.A. can provide adequate security, which is honestly the LAST thing I expected these people would be outraged about lol. shows what I know I guess

(ETA: again though, this makes sense if the “certain civilians” thing was just a translation error.)

LMAO DAMMIT ENJI

YOU CAN’T JUST ALWAYS PULL THE “JUST WATCH ME” TRICK AND EXPECT IT TO SHUT DOWN THE CONVERSATION EVERY DAMN TIME YOU ASSHOLE

-- OH MY GOD RED ALERT

TIME TO ANALYZE THIS BECAUSE OMG

WASH CAN’T BELIEVE HIS FAMILY GROUP CHAT IS STILL SENDING HIM FUCKING MEMES AT A TIME LIKE THIS. HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK IF THE DABI DANCE IS TRENDING ON TIKTOK, MOM!!

FOR A MINUTE I THOUGHT MT. LADY WAS HOLDING MIDNIGHT’S TORN-UP MASK, AND BY THE TIME I REALIZED THAT’S ACTUALLY HER MASK AND NOT MIDNIGHT’S, I HAD ALREADY CONSTRUCTED AN ELABORATE HEADCANON IN WHICH MT. LADY AND MIDNIGHT WERE SECRETLY DATING BUT HADN’T COME OUT TO ANYONE YET, AND THEN TRAGEDY STRUCK, AND NOW MT. LADY IS GETTING READY TO SET OUT TO SEEK VENGEANCE. AND WELL, NOW THAT THIS HEADCANON EXISTS IN THE WORLD, I’M NOT SURE IF I’M READY TO GET RID OF IT

MIRKO HAS GOTTEN HERSELF A PROSTHETIC (ROBOT??!) ARM, NOTHING ELSE THAT’S HAPPENING IN THIS CHAPTER IS EVEN SLIGHTLY IMPORTANT!!! HELLO!!!!!

AIZAWA WITH THE EYEPATCH GOOD LORD. THE WORLD ISN’T READY. HE LOOKS LIKE HE HASN’T SLEPT IN NINETY-EIGHT YEARS, BUT SOMEHOW HE MAKES IT INTO THE HOTTEST THING EVER AS PER USUAL

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS FUCKING GUY. ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW HIM? IS THIS KAMUI?? WAS THAT THING WHICH I ALWAYS ASSUMED WAS HIS HAIR ACTUALLY A HELMET OR SOMETHING WHAT

LOL AND MEANWHILE

you tell me, Dabi! weren’t you the one who said that wouldn’t be enough to kill him? what even is your endgame here. I’m starting to worry about the villain brain cell supply you guys. I feel like Compress took most of them with him when he left

OH??

“when asked about One for All, Endeavor fucking lied through his teeth.” well, well, well

SLKDFJLSKGDJLKLKGJL THE DORMS

( ⁰ ⌂ ⁰ )

SLDKJFLKJWLKJLK

WLKDJSLKJFWKELKSDJLKHGLK

HDSMFLKGKL:GDSELK

OCHAKO’S HAND IS SHAKING OH MY GOD

THERE’S YOUR KAMINARI, EVERYONE!!

RHA’S SCANLATION TEAM REALLY THREW DEKU’S HANDWRITING UNDER THE BUS HERE HUH

HE TOLD EVERYONE!?

WHY THE FUCK IS HE WRITING IT AS A LETTER

(ETA: 9. also if he really wrote every kid in his class then that means the U.A. traitor -- or Hagakure as we like to call her around these parts -- also knows about OFA, and knows that Deku has run the fuck off and isn’t at U.A. anymore. so that’s just great!)

OH HELL NO

the hell does that mean, you must leave. leave to go where. son you are not up and leaving to go power up and lead us all into a timeskip. and I swear to GOD, if you left Kacchan too...!!

MY GOD I CAN’T PROPERLY ABSORB ALL OF THESE OCHAKO FEELS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I’M TOO TERRIFIED TO SCROLL TO THE LAST FUCKING PAGE, FUCK

I JUST GOTTA DO IT. I JUST GOTTA SUCK IT UP AND DO IT. FUCK

FUCK

WHAT. THE. FUCK

y’all I’m not even gonna waste your time with more keysmashing, JUST ASSUME THAT I AM DOING IT NONSTOP, FOREVER. and let’s just jump RIGHT IN HERE

okay so here I thought that All Might and co. had taken him away somewhere to train, but that is CLEARLY not what’s going on here. this kid is standing here in his Apocalypse Aesthetic hero costume which has CLEARLY seen better days, with Gran Torino’s cloak (GUESS THAT EXPLAINS THAT, THEN?? SO DID GRAN FUCKING DIE EXCUSE ME WTF), and a fucking backpack. this little green idiot has RUN AWAY FROM HOME. this is the absolute LAST THING ON EARTH I ever expected to happen so PARDON ME WHILE I SCREAM CONFUSEDLY INTO THE VOID

he does not look okay. you guys he doesn’t look okay at ALL. he has NEVER looked like this. this isn’t just a “I’m sad because I’m leaving all my friends behind” kind of look on his face, or even just a “Gran Torino died maybe and I’m still having emotions over it” look. this is an EXHAUSTED, dead look in his eyes. something terrible has happened

WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ARMS DEKU. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING DOWN WITH YOUR ARMS GODDAMMIT

love how this random building is just straight up collapsing, like that’s just a normal thing that happens every day now. lovely

APRIL MEANS IT’S NOW FULL ON SCHEDULED ALL-MIGHT-DYING-HOURS, BUT LET’S COMPLETELY IGNORE THAT THOUGH BECAUSE FUCK THAT NOISE

“THE SECOND USER? WHO KNOWS? CERTAINLY NOT ME” HORIKOSHI I SWEAR TO GOD

“BAKUGOU? NEVER HEARD OF HIM!” HORIKOSHI PLEASE

WHERE. IS. KACCHAN

did he go with Deku?? did he get a chance to talk to him before he left?? did he get his own private letter which he read and then promptly blew up in a fit of panicked rage?? is he going to go after him?? DOES HORIKOSHI KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING TO ME RIGHT NOW?? OF COURSE HE DOES, DON’T BOTHER ANSWERING THAT

omg. though actually the fact that we’ve already jumped a few weeks forward makes me hopeful that there won’t actually be another timeskip, or at least not much of one. I’m sure that’ll be the big debate of the week, but I don’t think we can jump too far forward here. for starters because of that All Might prophecy I mentioned. and also because TomurAFO isn’t just going to wait around for months. and also because I’m 100% sure that Deku’s running-away backpack is just filled ENTIRELY WITH NOTEBOOKS and this asshole cannot possibly survive more than 3 days on his own. UNLESS SOMEONE COMES TO HELP HIM THAT IS. OR SOMEONES, EVEN. OMG. omg omg omg. fuck this chapter lmao

#bnha 306 #midoriya izuku #hawks (bnha)#takami keigo #endeavor #todoroki enji #best jeanist #all might #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

The Warrior Experience; ft. the Marley Warriors

Rating: Explicit; mdni

Pairing: Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Pieck x fem!reader

Word Count: ~5.3K

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (reader isn’t exactly there of her own free will but is still dtf), multiple partners, voyeurism, virgin Colt, rough blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unpleasant contraceptives, lots of cum, clear bias toward Reiner

A/N: I don’t know what happened today. I just got possessed by the horny ghost. Enjoy~

It’s always Magath who retrieves you, the sour-faced General swinging open the door to your small room without any type of knock or warning.

On most nights, he takes a look at you, frowns, then grunts the name of whoever is actually calling for you—requesting your “presence”. This evening, however, he remains silent, leaving it a mystery that keeps you curious as you make yourself slightly more presentable, pulling on a skirt, running a comb through your hair, just enough to look a little more human.

You walk in silence down the hallways, your hands clasped behind your back as the older man struts in his usual militaristic fashion. As you near the Warrior quarters, you do your best to prepare yourself, but without an idea of who you’re meeting, it’s difficult.

Because they’re all so different. Galliard, for instance, usually starts the nights off aggressively. He particularly likes slamming you into various surfaces, pinning you down with a bruising grip, but his demeanor changes as soon as he’s inside you. The once careless young man turns to jelly underneath you, gasping and groaning as his adrenaline wanes and he unravels.

Always tired and slightly unstable, Reiner is soft. Even when his thrusts are deep and harsh, his hands remain gentle, calluses feather light as they dance up and down your ribs, over your breasts. His stamina varies. Sometimes, when he’s a little more out of his head, a little more haunted, he ruts into you for what feels like an eternity. Most of those instances, he doesn’t even come. You’re just there for a distraction— “A nice one,” he tells you quietly, gratefully, but you still know where you stand with him.

There are nights when he’s desperate for release, however, taking you with quick, sloppy thrusts, spilling inside you within minutes then rubbing your clit until you squeeze him back to full hardness so that he can do it all over again.

Zeke is the hardest to predict, on far ends of one, sadistic spectrum: he either wants you to do all the work while he smirks up at you with a cigarette between his lips, occasionally blowing smoke into your face, or he wants to dominate you entirely. When he falls into the latter category, you’re in his bed for hours, sniffling or sobbing, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to stop—one, because he won’t listen, but also because it isn’t your place.

The Warriors are honorary Marleyans which means they’re much more important and valuable than you are. Your opinion never matters, least of all in the bedroom.

You’re more or less a toy for them to use, an Eldian plucked from Liberio and brought to the military base with no real say in it. The Warriors are all young and virile, after all. They have needs like anyone else, but despite their honorary status, they’re forbidden from sleeping with Marleyan women.

So, you live here, at their beck and call with one purpose and one purpose only.

To your surprise, Magath stops before you can get to the sleeping quarters you are very familiar with at this point. You stand outside of a closed door, raise an eyebrow at the General but don’t dare question him.

“They’re in there,” he grumbles, nodding to the door before turning around and walking away.

They…

Raising a suddenly very heavy hand, you knock lightly then shift awkwardly until the door opens and reveals Galliard. His perpetual scowl is in place, but he nods his head in acknowledgment then moves to the side to let you in.

Galliard isn’t the only one in the room—what looks like some kind of conference area with a sizable wooden table surrounded by chairs, a window on the far end displaying the night sky and twinkling stars. Nearly all of those chairs are full, one scooted back from the table that you can easily assume belongs to the redhead standing behind you.

Zeke is lounging comfortably, feet kicked up on the table as he puffs on a cigarette. Reiner is sitting in his chair backwards, slumped forward to rest his head on the wooden backing, though he lifts it to look at you with bloodshot eyes. Pieck, who you do not see often at all, is slouched with her arms pillowing her face, offering you a lazy smile that’s laced with something you cannot place.

There’s one more person in the room, the vaguely familiar face of Colt Grice, Warrior Candidate slated to inherit the Beast Titan in a few years. You’ve seen him around the base, usually trailing closely behind Zeke, but haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet.

You remain standing even as Galliard takes his seat again, nibbling on your bottom lip, waiting expectantly—nervously. The last time you were in a room with all of them at once was when you’d first been brought here, and that had just been for informal introductions. There had also been another Eldian with you at the time, a male to keep Pieck satisfied, but he’s… No longer with you.

In true leader fashion, Zeke is the first to speak after taking a long drag from his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow it into the air and creating a haze over himself.

“Glad you could join us tonight, sweetheart,” he shows a short, unconvincing smile, and that paired with the condescending pet name leads you to believe he’s in one of his more controlling moods.

“I’m just glad to be able to service the Wa—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to do all that,” he waves you off. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Let her sit down first, Zeke, geeze,” Pieck murmurs before holding a small hand out for you, beckoning you to take the seat next to hers.

Never one to argue or disobey, you shuffle over to it and lower yourself, but you can’t relax, not with so many pairs of eyes on you.

Galliard is twitchy, bouncing his leg up and down, pushing his hair back too often. Reiner, unmoving, just blinks slowly at you, expression flat. Grabbing your hand, Pieck offers a nod that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring while Zeke pins you with an icy gaze.

“Colt here is gonna be a big boy Warrior pretty soon,” he says, motioning to the boyish blond in the corner who suddenly seems more interested in the floor than anything. “And, he hasn’t been given the chance to have the experiences he deserves. You follow?”

You nod, easily putting the pieces together. They want you to sleep with him, some sort of sexual initiation.

“As I’m sure you’ve picked up, Titan holders don’t have the longest lifespans, so I figure he needs to enjoy what life he has left.”

Another nod, then you start to stand only to be stopped by Galliard who asks, “What’re you doing? Sit back down.”

“Oh,” you plant yourself back in the chair, eyes growing as your stomach sinks. “I thought you wanted me to show Colt—”

Zeke laughs around his cigarette, adding even more smoke to the air around you, and shakes his head. “No, you misunderstand. You will be showing Colt a thing or two tonight, but in here where we can all watch and… Lend a helping hand if need be.”

Mouth going dry, you can’t stop yourself from frowning. Sleep with Colt… In front of all of them? You don’t fancy yourself much of a performer, doubt you’ll be able to put on any kind of good show under so much pressure.

But, you can’t protest. You can’t go against their wishes or complain. You should consider yourself lucky, being able to service the Warriors. It means you’re a half-step above the other Eldians—a devil but a halfway useful one.

“Um. Okay,” you consent.

Zeke claps his hands together. “Excellent,” then tells you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Go rinse off, do whatever you need to do to get ready, then meet us back here.”

You don’t dawdle, doing exactly what you’re told. The restroom is obviously for multiple people, a few stalls with cheap curtains to block you from view. You make quick work of bathing so that you’ll have time to prepare yourself, starting the process of stretching yourself while under the spray. With no idea how large Colt might be, and taking into account that he might be completely clueless about female anatomy, you make sure to work three fingers into your cunt, moving them as best you can until you’re a little loosened up and wet.

When you return to the conference room, you’re just in a towel, folded clothes under your arm and placed in an empty chair.

“Easy access,” Galliard smirks. “Good call.” You squeak when he slaps your ass then sit on the edge of the table as you’re directed to.

Most of them have shed their boots and jackets, looking a little more casual now. It doesn’t put you at ease—if anything, it makes you think the others will get a little more involved than Zeke originally let on, and the thought alone is enough to overwhelm you.

It takes some prompting for Colt to muster the courage to approach you. The others scoot to the edges of the room, giving the two of you center stage. It's daunting, but you do your best to forget about them, to focus on the nervous blond in front of you.

Spreading your legs, you pull him by the shirt to stand between them then look up at him through your lashes and ask, "Am I allowed to kiss you?" You can never assume. Everyone has different rules.

When you're with Reiner, he has his mouth against yours more than he doesn't, Galliard will nip and suck against every part of you that isn't your mouth, and the closest Zeke gets to your mouth is prying it open to spit on your tongue.

Naturally, Colt looks to his War Chief for answers, but Zeke just shrugs. "Your choice, big guy. You're the one calling the shots."

Colt contemplates for a little while but eventually nods and swallows. "Uh, yeah. That's okay, I guess."

He seems to feel just as awkward as you do about this whole situation, would also probably prefer for it to happen in private, but you imagine he's doing everything in his power to show that he's worthy of inheriting Zeke's Titan. He's basically in the same boat as you.

Reaching up, you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his slowly, softly, trying not to spook him too much.

After gaining as much experience as you have over the last year or so, it's rare for you to feel shy when getting intimate. Three of the other people in that room have seen everything there is to see about you, your most private of body parts, your most visceral, primal reactions. You have nothing to hide any more.

Colt is stiff against you. His hands are still by his sides, lips firm but unmoving.

He has no idea what to do. It's almost disappointing, knowing you're about to spend the evening teaching this kid, fresh faced, twenty years old at most and completely clueless.

You're saved when a gruff voice makes you pull away: "Alright, this is hard to watch." Reiner sits up and rubs his eyes, then swings his leg over the chair to stand and walk over. "Grice, have you ever even seen anyone kiss before?"

Cheeks turning red, Colt moves out of the way, stuttering out "W-well yeah, but I never watch."

The taller man takes the vacant space between your legs, and you inhale sharply when he slides a large hand to the back of your head, tilting your face even further upward. Reiner kisses you in a way that makes your head spin. He has that desperate taste he always has, and even without opening your eyes, you can tell he's frowning. But his hand is cautious, careful not to tug your hair just like he's careful not to knock his teeth into yours when he parts your lips with his.

"There we go," Zeke laughs, clapping twice and cheering, "'Atta boy, Braun!"

Reiner's tongue dances with yours in a heated back and forth for a few seconds before he pulls back. He doesn't smile, but he does sigh in a thoughtful manner before turning to Colt and pointedly telling him, "That's how you kiss a woman."

Reiner softly scratches the back of your head in a fond gesture, then steps away and motions for Colt to try again.

He's slightly more confident this time around, starting off slowly at first but eventually pushing against you harder and harder until it's a little much, and you just barely push at his chest to get him to let up. He replaces pressure with tongue, probing and curious but not awful.

"Undo her towel, Grice. Get a move on," Galliard demands.

Colt reaches up with a shaky hand, breathing through his nose while keeping his lips attached to yours as he pulls at the loose knot just above your breasts. The material falls and pools around you on the table, and before he can be criticized again, you grab one of Colt's hands and place it on one of the perky mounds. You move your fingers over his, showing how you like to be massaged then guiding him to your nipple.

"Oh, this is very romantic," Zeke drawls, snapping his fingers to get someone's attention then addressing, "Pock," who grunts in response. "You're a tit man, right? Your turn to show him how it's done."

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor rings throughout the room, but instead of pushing Colt out of the way, Galliard stands on the other side of the table behind you, bends forward, then grabs you by the hair to pull you down. The breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the table, and you blink up at the redhead in surprise.

Upside down, your face is about level with his hips, maybe a foot away from his pelvis, but before you can dwell on it, Galliard's rough hands are on your tits, groping, massaging, then pinching your nipples so that you arch and moan.

"Know I probably shouldn't like it so much, but you sound so pretty, baby," he growls, flicking over the hardened buds then squeezing again.

"We're all devils here. You can like it as much as you want," Reiner gruffs.

"Justifying your own feelings?" Zeke snarks.

You aren't able to see or hear Reiner's response, too busy whining as Galliard starts to slap your tits over and over, making the flesh burn and sting.

Porco groans, "Mm, love that bounce," hitting them a few more times then stopping and allowing you to take a shuddering breath.

Your body is hot all over, especially your chest, and your pussy is starting to throb. After playing with yourself in the shower, the heated kiss you shared with Reiner, and now the abuse Galliard just showered on your tits, you're starting to get restless, ready to be filled with something.

"While I'm right here, m'gonna show you somethin' else, Grice."

Galliard grips your upper arms and slides you closer to him on the table, then undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. As soon as you feel the tap on your lips, you open up for him, relaxing just in time for him to shove his length over your tongue and into the tight sleeve of your throat.

And, pride actually wells up inside of you. That hardly ever happens.

There's no time to acclimate really, your only choice being to just lay and take it, so you do, choking and gagging around Galliard's cock as everyone else watches. Tears stream down the sides of your face, but you feel them get wiped away and open bleary eyes to find Pieck peering down at you, soft hands catching the drops as she coos, "You're doing so good, love."

You squirm on the table, start to rock your hips into nothing—no one—in desperate need of friction now.

"You want something stuffed in that pussy?" Zeke calls out.

The vibration of your responding whine makes Galliard curse and thrust into your throat until your forehead is pressed against his heavy balls. Strings of spit leak from the corners of your mouth. You try to slurp and suckle, but the steady pistoning of Galliard’s hips just keeps pushing more out.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Colt, you wanna go for it, or do you wanna watch first?” Zeke questions.

“Um, I—I’ll watch first, I think.”

“Good choice. See how it’s done before diving in.”

You’re barely aware of the conversation around you, mouth full of cock, gentle hands on your face. Pieck must not be fazed by being so close to her comrade’s privates because she just keeps stroking and praising you, like she thinks you might break or lose it.

There are fingers on your wet folds, spreading them apart, then the harsh sound of spitting before a glob of thick fluid lands in your pussy. Zeke smears his saliva over your clit, and you buck under his touch, moaning when two thick digits are pushed into your heat all at once. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, getting used to it as he continues the job you’d started in the shower.

“I don’t always do this sort of thing just ‘cause I like the way she feels all tight and tense on my dick, but if you don’t want her to whine as much, I’d advise prepping her with your fingers or mouth.”

You squirm and writhe, the glide of his fingers getting easier with every thrust as your hole drools slick onto the table beneath you. Zeke’s palm grinds against your clit, pressure and friction where you want it most for half a second before it disappears—comes back, disappears—until you’re forcing yourself down on his hand.

He lets out one of his standoffish little chuckles as you slide up and down Galliard’s length and fuck yourself on Zeke’s fingers, but the delicious sensation disappears entirely when Zeke pulls out, probably to work himself out of his pants, then presses the blunt head of his cock against your clenching hole. He pushes the tip in only to pull it back out, tap it against the swollen bundle of nerves a few times, then finally pushes in all the way.

You’re a little too far up on the table now, and Zeke doesn’t bother warning you or Galliard as he tugs you back down to better situate you on his cock, causing the other man to slip out of your mouth.

“Fuck man, I was getting close!”

Without a care in the world, Zeke shrugs him off, tells him, “Come on her face or something then, I don’t give a fuck.”

Your voice comes out hoarse as you moan for all of them to hear, teary eyes cracking open to see Galliard step back and lean against the wall behind him. His fist is tight around his shaft, but he’s pumping himself slowly, like he’s suddenly pacing himself despite just having fucked your throat raw.

A rough pinch to your nipple brings your eyes to Zeke, blond hair hanging in his face, glasses slipping down his nose. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, but other than that, he’s basically fully clothed. He’s flushed from his neck down to his chest, jaw barely hanging open as his eyebrows raise. He’s certainly enjoying himself, and you can’t say you aren’t because the drag of his thick cock in your pussy is incredible.

Your head lolls to one side and you find Colt staring at you with wide eyes, watching the way his superior sheathes himself in you over and over. It makes you blush, so you turn to the other side, see Reiner posted up in the corner, about half hard in his pants as he watches your face.

Mouth dropping open, you shut your eyes, trying to will away the skin-prickling sensation of being watched. You raise your arms above your head, hands dangling off the other end of the table, and Pieck takes them, squeezing once before lightly running nimble fingers over your sensitive skin.

You’ve never been with her, not that you’d be opposed. She’s very pretty and seems kind enough. But you had guessed you weren’t exactly her type. Now, though, you second guess yourself since she seems more than content with touching you.

The painful squeezes of Zeke’s fingers are batted away, replaced by the ghost of stimulation on your sore nipples. Pieck rubs over one so lightly you hardly register it, but it still shoots right to your pussy, makes you clench around Zeke.

He’s holding you by the hips now, pulling you onto his cock, and it goes like this for a while. At some point, the wet sound of Galliard jacking off fades, but you doubt he’s come; he’s typically quite vocal when he climaxes.

Zeke never lets up, fucking deep and fast and right over the spot that makes you leak until he suddenly pulls out and shoots strings of hot cum onto your thighs and the table between them.

“You don’t… Inside?” Colt speaks up.

Rubbing his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Zeke answers, “Never. That’s preference, though. I just don’t want any accidents to happen.”

You would remind him that you go to the medic after every encounter you have with the Warriors to get checked out, given an unpleasant medicine that leaves you sick for a few days, but it’s hard to think straight right now.

Before Colt can move toward you again or any more questions can be asked, Galliard is rounding the table, cock in hand once again, shouldering Zeke out of the way so that he can bury himself in your pussy. He’s a shorter length than the man who was in you just moments ago, but a little thicker. Veiny and curved upward, Galliard always feels good inside of you. Unfortunately for you, he’s basically been edging himself since you were pulled from him, so he doesn’t last long at all.

Unlike Zeke, Galliard has no qualms about coming inside of you. You feel his seed fill you, mixing with your own wet arousal and making you drip with it when he pulls out.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he grins before giving your pussy a slap, making you push more of his cum out.

You hear someone suck in a deep breath, and Colt slowly shuffles over to you. He stares at your throbbing cunt for a while, raising a timid hand to stroke over now messy folds, and you let out a mewl, a very soft, “Please…”

Pieck places a tender kiss at your hairline that makes your heart jump into your throat, such a kind gesture as she murmurs against you, “You’re doing so well for them.”

“Can I—” You blink up at her face, floating upside down over yours. “Can I do anything f-for you, Pieck?”

She shows another one of those smiles, the kind that’s hiding a little something, and she shakes her head, wavy, black hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’m just enjoying watching. You’re very pretty to look at.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, so you just let her keep touching you, keep cooing and doting. You’ll never say no to affection like this.

Colt doesn’t have any trouble finding your entrance, which is a relief. He lines himself up and pushes in painfully slowly, panting the entire time and letting out one very satisfying, “O-oh, shit.”

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Zeke hums.

Colt nods, arms beginning to shake on the table. He seems to be holding himself back, whether it’s from coming or fucking into you is a mystery, but eventually he bottoms out and stays still save for his trembling. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you do feel very full, his hips flush against yours, cockhead nestled right up against your cervix. If he was any longer, you would definitely be in pain.

“Grice, you can move, you know,” Galliard jabs, but Colt just shakes his head.

“One second. Lemme just…” He shifts his hips some, not thrusting as much as grinding into you, and you cry out when he presses against that far wall.

You can feel Galliard’s cum leaking down the curvature of your ass, pooling with whatever of Zeke’s is left on the table. You’re so wet, noisy when Colt finally does start slowly pulling out and pushing in. The squelches echo in the conference room and make you cringe, but Zeke seems to appreciate it as he hums, “Listen to that sloppy pussy.”

“Like music to my fuckin’ ears,” Galliard adds.

Colt has trouble keeping an even pace, his hips stuttering often, but the ridge of his cock strokes over the sensitive spot inside you—the one that makes you drool and babble—almost every time. Your muscles clench around him, changing the sensation for both of you, and when that rhythm becomes even more erratic, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Just add to the mess. We’ll clean up later,” Zeke reassures him.

Colt’s eyes find yours for the first time since he started fucking you, searching for something like permission, so you nod and show a lazy grin.

“It’s okay, you can come in me.”

That sends him over, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat as he milks himself in your cunt. You can feel the pressure of building liquid inside you, pushing on your insides, but it wanes when Colt pulls out.

You feel swollen and used at this point, but your core is still hot with the desire to come. There’s a chance you won’t, especially now that Colt has finished, but you can always get yourself off in the privacy of your quarters if need be.

The freshly fucked blond receives a couple slaps on the back, some patronizing comments from his War Chief, and you take the time to just breathe and melt into the table, enjoying the way Pieck is stroking your hair now, smiling at the other Warriors.

Your eyes are just about to close when you see Reiner making his way over. He stands between your legs for a while, just looking over the damage, the slight discoloration of your chest, your raw nipples, mouth swollen from Galliard’s cock, then finally your used pussy.

His fingertips brush over sensitive skin, making you shudder, and you nearly cry when he asks, “You ready to get yours?”

You nod, sucking in an unsteady breath. Reiner mouths the word, “Okay,” then unbuckles his pants and pushes them down to his thighs, and the tears really do start to gather in your eyes now because Reiner is big, and you're already getting sore from three other cocks you've taken.

He rubs his hands up your thighs, tells you, “Wrap your legs around my waist,” which you somehow manage even though they’re weak with numbness.

Reiner doesn’t push in just yet, though you can feel his warm cock rubbing between your engorged lips. Instead, he slides his arms under your back and lifts you, turning so that he’s sitting on the table and you’re in his lap, ankles still crossed at his lower back.

“Just go at your own pace.” His voice is quiet, his mouth hovering just over yours, and here, like this, you almost forget about the others.

You lift yourself just enough to line his tip up with your leaking entrance then lower yourself onto his cock inch by inch. His girth stretches you, always burns just a little, even when you’re well prepared.

Your spongy walls make room for him, sucking him in even as you whine at his size. He waits for you to get settled, for you to start rocking, and only then does Reiner start moving. His cheeks are pink, light brown eyes nearly taken over by blown pupils, but the shift of his hips is slow and deliberate, hitting just where you need him to.

He keeps one hand at your back to help you balance, but his other moves down to press on the puffy flesh at the apex of your cunt. It forces your clit to rub against the coarse hairs on his pelvis, and you throw your head back as you finally, finally get that friction you were craving.

Reiner lowers his face to your chest, warm tongue laving over one nipple in a soothing manner as it pebbles against the muscle. He moves to the other and does the same, suckles on it softly so that you dig your nails into his back.

You leak with every shallow thrust, various fluids getting pushed from your wet pussy, and the closer you get to your orgasm, the worse it gets. You squirt first, a juice thinner than your slick arousal dribbling from you and coating Reiner’s thighs.

“Fucking—” He cuts himself off by kissing you, obviously uncaring of the fact that you had someone else’s cock in your mouth maybe half an hour ago. He licks into you, holding your body tight against his as your muscles tense, thighs rigid around his waist. You climb and climb, gut hotter and hotter until you reach your peak and moan into his mouth.

Your hips start moving on their own accord, a little faster as you squeeze the thick cock inside of you until your body grows tired enough to stop. Reiner keeps the same, slow pace, rumbles, “Just keep squeezing me, and I’ll come soon.”

So, you do, clenching around him and trembling the more overstimulated you become because you’re so sensitive and so swollen and so full. Every part of you aches. Every shift of his cock makes you whimper, but when Reiner finally spills inside of you, holding you down on his spurting cock, you sigh and slump against him.

You breathe heavily, and so does Reiner, his chest, now damp with sweat, rising and falling against yours. His shirt chafes against your nipples, making you hiss, but you’re too exhausted to move.

“Is that what sex is always like with you two?” Galliard scoffs. “That was some soft shit. I’m a little disgusted.”

If you were a little more lucid, you’d consider calling him out and announcing to the room how wanton he gets alone in the bedroom, but your brain is functioning at minimal capacity right now.

“Oh, leave them alone, Pock,” Pieck chides, and you glance across the table at her with tired eyes to find another one of those smiles on her face. “Everyone deserves some softness, especially this little angel after the way you guys treated her.”

“Didn’t treat her any differently than I normally do,” Zeke says, voice slightly muffled as he speaks around a new cigarette.

“In that case, I offer my condolences,” Pieck tells you, pulling a little snort from you.

“S’fine,” you slur. “I’m just happy to service the Warriors.”

Galliard rolls his eyes. Pieck hums thoughtfully. Zeke smirks. Reiner lets his head fall to your shoulder.

And, Colt croaks out a honestly endearing, “Well, I, uh, appreciate the service,” which makes you and all of his superiors laugh.

It’s not an easy job, this one you've been given. You try to be grateful for the opportunity, but most days end with you struggling to find your own self worth.

Tonight is different, though. It’s rare that you feel genuinely appreciated, but right now, sitting in Reiner’s lap with Colt looking at you in both embarrassment and gratefulness, you feel that maybe you're worth something.

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfic

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

705 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

Crisis Redo Pt 17

All three of them spend that night slumped in uncomfortable visitors chairs in the waiting room of the Aurora Regional Trauma Center. None of them get a chance to see Lena before she's whisked into surgery-- she's not even in the system yet before Elizabeth asks the receptionist for her status.

Kara half expects Lillian to position herself as an authority, or even just as Lena's mother. To Kara surprise, however, all Lillian asks is that the surgeons be notified that Lena has family waiting for an update.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. The police come to interview Lillian and Kara both, but their questions are brief, due to their continued shock. Still, one officer lingers in the waiting room, and Kara has to wonder if it's because they're suspects, or if they think the shooter might try to finish the job.

The first person they see is a nurse who comes to ask for Lena's details-- Elizabeth answers all of the woman's questions, clutching Kara's hand the entire time. After that, it's hours before someone comes to update them, and even then it's only to inform them that surgery is ongoing and it's too soon to tell.

It's not until the sun starts to rise the next morning that one of the surgeons comes out to give them a full update.

"We've stopped the bleeding, for now," she delivers softly, in a private conference room off the waiting area. To Kara's surprise, Elizabeth allows Lillian in the room with them. "We've removed as much of the fragmented bullets as we could find. It appears your daughter was shot twice: one bullet passed through, while the second ricocheted off her ribs and lacerated several organs. We've repaired those, and given her several transfusions."

Still clutching Kara's hand, Elizabeth takes a shuddering breath and nods. "What's her prognosis?"

"It's too early to say," the surgeon replies. "But if she makes it through the next 24 hours without incident, I'd say her chances are fairly good."

Elizabeth exhales. "Thank you."

But the surgeon isn't finished. "Mrs. Walsh, I also need to warn you that your daughter's heart stopped before first responders arrived. The swift actions of your friends saved your daughter's life, but there is still a risk of brain damage resulting due to potential lack of circulation in those few minutes. We won't know any more until Lena wakes up."

"When can we see her?" Kara asks, speaking up for the first time.

"We're setting her up in the ICU right now, and we'd like to monitor for the next few hours to ensure she remains stable. If all goes well, we'll be able to come get you for a quick visit. Limited to two visitors, 30 minutes max."

As the surgeon finishes with them and slips back beyond the double doors into the trauma unit, hovers near Elizabeth, who stands numbly in the nearly empty waiting room.

"Lillian."

The single word from Elizabeth freezes the entire room. It's the first that Elizabeth has addressed the other woman directly, and Kara watches anxiously to see what happens next.

"Thank you," Elizabeth continues, her voice heavy with exhaustion and relief. "You saved my daughter's life."

Lillian gazes at her with her chin raised, before finally nodding. "It's all anyone else would do."

"What I don't understand," Elizabeth turns sharp, "is why the woman who forbade Lena's father from ever seeing his daughter would go to such lengths to save her life now."

Elizabeth's gaze is fierce and piercing. Kara nearly has to look away from the intensity of it, only further enhanced by the unshed tears in the woman's gaze. But Lillian doesn't flinch. She doesn't look away.

"I'm afraid I'm not the person you need to ask," Lillian returns, as gentle as Kara has ever heard her. With that, she turns to leave. "Excuse me, I'm going to go freshen up."

She exits the waiting room with the grace of a ballet dancer, but Kara thinks she sees tears shining in the Luthor's eyes as she leaves.

Elizabeth sags in her wake, breaking into sobs. Kara catches her, and holds her tight as she cries and cries and cries.

---

Some time after Elizabeth calms and slumps into her same chair as before, an orderly comes to offer Kara scrubs to change into. Kara accepts them gratefully, along with the bag the man offers to put her ruined clothes in. When she returns, Elizabeth is still sitting there, still drained but more alert.

She has the same look as Lena, when she's spiraling.

"Lizzie..."

"This is what Lena's been keeping from me," Elizabeth declares softly. Kara can see her putting the pieces together. "She's been seeing them, seeing HER, and she didn't tell me--!"

"That's not--"

"Then tell me, Kara! Tell me what my daughter almost died before telling me?!"

Kara hesitates. Her promise to keep Lena's secret is fresh in her mind, but... Elizabeth's anguish overwhelms Kara's reticence.

"Let's... get some coffee."

They collect a coffee each from the vending machine and take a break from from the waiting room, instead stepping out in the cool night air. They walk a short distance from the sliding doors, far enough for privacy but close enough to be called back if something happens.

"Please, Kara," Lizzie begs again. "Just tell me."

"It's a long story," Kara warns, but swiftly continues. "And I suppose it all starts with the fact that I'm Supergirl."

---

Kara tells Elizabeth everything.

A much-abridged version, to be sure, but no amount of craziness is spared as Kara explains how over a year ago, the multiverse was condensed into this new, singular reality. And she explains how Lena came to regain her memories of their previous reality.

Elizabeth's reaction is... heart wrenching.

"Can you return mine too?" she asks simply. "So I know how to help her--"

But Kara can only shake her head. "There's nothing for you to remember."

"What do you mean...?"

"You died. When Lena was four years old. You died, and her father adopted her into his family, raised her."

Lizzie scoffs. "Adopted? He's her father!!"

"He never told her," Kara admits. "She only learned the truth after he died."

Elizabeth curses, and spits in rage. "Coward," she hisses. If he were still alive in this world I would... well." She falls quiet then, and softens. After a moment, she speaks again. "At least tell me they loved her."

Kara stares into her coffee, unable to meet Lizzie's gaze. "I think in a way they did, but... not the way Lena needed."

Instead of getting angry, Elizabeth only saddens. "My sweet girl..." she trails off, then turns back to Kara. "But you knew her? In the previous reality?"

Kara nods. "We met about six years ago. By that point, well..." She's already explained about Lex, about Lena's role in his arrest and trial. She can't bear to repeat it. "By then she had sworn off personal relationships."

"But you wore her down..."

"I did," Kara chuckles. "I'm sure I was very annoying, but I was also persistent, and, well... Lena's never been as cold as she pretended to be."

"What was she like?"

"She was... hurting. I never knew how much, until--" Kara's voice cracks. She clears her throat, pushing forwards. "I betrayed her trust. In a horrible way, and... it was a long time before she let me see how deep I'd hurt her."

Elizabeth stares at her wordlessly. Kara's eyes burn with tears, and she wipes at them roughly. "And then the world ended, and I thought I'd never get the chance to make things right."

"But then you found her," Elizabeth prods.

"I did. And by some miracle she let me stay. She let me back into her life, and I promised--" Kara's chest hitches in a sob. "I promised that I--!"

This time, it's Lizzie who holds Kara as the tears come flooding out. She sobs for few short minutes on the woman's shoulder before she pulls away.

"But Lena didn't go looking for Lillian," Kara says tearfully. "You have to know that. Lillian must have found her the same way I did, and ambushed her at the clinic a few weeks ago. She asked me not to tell you, she-- she was ashamed of what you might think of her, if you knew that Lillian had a hand in raising her."

"I would never--"

"I know! I know, and I tried to tell Lena that, but... she's scared. So scared, to lose you. Lizzie, she-- she loves you so much, and she was terrified of losing you again."

They stand there, in the cold, tears streaming down their faces. After a while, Elizabeth sniffles and dries her eyes, her features hardening.

"You know Lillian better than I do, at this point," Lizzie says. She pegs Kara with a sharp stare. "Can she be trusted?"

Kara considers that for a long moment. "I think trust is a big word, as far as Lena's concerned," she says carefully. "But," she continues, "if she meant Lena harm, she simply could have let Lena bleed out on the clinic floor. And she didn't."

Elizabeth absorbs Kara's counsel with a small nod. After a moment, she swallows thickly, and grips Kara's hand tightly.

"Thank you," she says. "For sharing the truth with me."

Kara chuckles wetly. "If Lena asks, I'm telling her you magicked me."

Lizzie smiles thinly, wrapping Kara in a warming side hug.

"Fair enough."

#supercorp #crisis redo #someone learns the truth #lena survives #lots of tears for everyone #lizzie loves her daughter

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ameliora-j · 3 years

Text

what a lie // ts x reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: angst, smut, mcd, blood, mention of injury, nipple play, pull out method (pls don’t use this irl), pregnancy mention

a/n: this is only half proofread but as always, lmk if i missed any warnings pls. italics is a flashback :)

“you’ll be okay, little dove,” thor whispered as he set a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“we’ll all be okay, y/n,” steve added, accompanied by a hiccup and a small sniffle from his spot next to you. you could no longer contain the loud sob that raked your body as you set down the flower reef that held your fiance’s arc reactor in the center and read: proof that tony stark has a heart.

the blonde super soldier pulled you into his chest and allowed you to harshly sob into his suit coat. tony was your forever. and he just got ripped away from you.

⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊

you walked into the grandiose building called “stark industries” one--very sunny--monday morning. you went to the desk and were greeted with a very pretty blonde woman. “can i help you?” she asked you.

“yeah i um... have a meeting with tony stark. he... he told me to come and meet him here,” you stuttered shyly.

“ah, you must be y/n,” you nodded and she offered you a smile, leading you into tony’s office. that day, he hired you as his personal assistant. however, at the time, you had no idea what was to come of that one fateful day.

in the coming weeks as tony’s assistant, you picked up his coffee, and scheduled his press conferences, and answered e-mails, and scheduled his meetings, and answered the phone. in that time, you had also become closer to the man you called your boss. you might even go as far as to call the two of you friends.

tony was really funny. whether it was intentionally or not. he told a lot of jokes, and he was nothing like the media painted him out to be. he was nice and caring. he was also very attentive. he stopped turning the ac so high when he noticed that you would always bring a jacket into the office, and he kept little candies laying around for your sweet tooth, and he always had your favorite pack of pens delivered weekly because you were always losing your’s and stealing his. he even let you sign all of his important documents with your pretty, purple glittery pens because he knew you liked them the best.

not to mention, tony bought you a whole set of y/f/c office supplies for your desk after you called his decoration “bland and boring.” everyday working for mr. stark was a brand new adventure and you absolutely couldn’t wait to see what the future held for you at stark industries.

you learned a lot about tony while you were working. you were the first person that he revealed his identity as iron man to. you, of course, freaked out, lecturing him on safety and being careful while fighting literal aliens, all while he chuckles and assured you that he was fine. one night--or early morning is a better term for it--there was a knock on your window. when you checked your bedside clock, the numbers “2:23″ flashed across it in bright red. when you looked over to the window, you noticed tony in the iron man suit, floating outside of your window.

“what the hell stark?! it’s half past two in the morning!” you complained as you opened the window and allowed him in. he grumbled loudly as he took off the suit and stumbled his way into your bathroom. he ignored you as you flung a million and two questions in his direction. untill finally, you noticed the blood running down the left side of his face. “what the hell!” you exclaimed before leading him to sit down on your toilet seat. you took the small first aid kit from underneath your bathroom sink and began to clean him up while simultaneously muttering what an idiot he was and how he could have been killed.

once you were all finished, you looked down at him. you had seen tony monday through friday for ten hours a day and sometimes on weekends if he had a press conference on a saturday or needed you to come in quickly and do something on a sunday, but this was the first time that you had truly noticed him. cuts and scrapes and bruises over his face, his hair sweaty and some falling into his eyes. those eyes... pretty, brown, and tired. the way that his facial hair had begun to grow on his jaw as a result of not shaving that morning. tony stark was gorgeous... ethereal even. you knew your boss was an attractive man, the media said it every day. hell, your boss said it himself every day. but now, actually looking at him, you saw it. you truly saw it, anthony howard stark was quite possibly the prettiest man you had ever laid your eyes upon.

you and tony sat in silence. it was in that silence that you realized your current position. the only thing donning your body was a very short pair of black sleep shorts that really didn’t cover much and a black tank top with no bra. you were standing above tony, straddling his left thigh and your faces were mere centimeters apart. the silence was long and loud as you stared, unblinking, into each other’s eyes. it was a hairs breath of a second when tony’s eyes flicked from your’s to your lips, and then back up before he was hungrily pressing his lips to your’s.

the kiss was nothing but the clashing of teeth and tongues. it had you moaning into his mouth as he stood and quickly pushed you against your bathroom counter. he wasted no time as he quickly rid the both of you of your clothes. “you have protection?” he asked from his place, sucking dark hickies into every inch of your neck.

“just pull out, please i want it,” you whimpered as you tugged on his chocolate locks. your whimpers and begs were all the encouragement the man needed as he pushed his cock into you, making you release a loud moan.

the way tony fucked you was a stark (no pun intended) contrast to the way he kissed you. his thrusts were slow and deliberate, hitting spots you never even knew existed, while his kisses were rough and hungry. “feel so good wrapped around me, princess. fuck,” tony moaned into your mouth.

“fuck, tony please. more. give me more,” you whined, causing him to chuckle as his lips traveled down, sucking your nipple into his mouth as his hand came up and twisted and tugged the other one. “feels so good. ‘s so big,” you whimpered as he fucked his cock into you even harder. he moaned at your praise as his teeth scraped across your sensitive nipple before he pulled off of it with a small ‘pop’ and began giving the same attention to the other one.

“always knew your little pussy was made for my cock, princess. knew it from the day you stepped into my office. looking all innocent, just begging me to bend you over my desk and make you mine,” you moaned loudly at this, causing him to smirk. “that what you want? come on, use your words, princess.”

“wanna be your’s. make me your’s tony please. want you to corrupt me. ruin me for anyone else’s cock.” you whined out pathetically as the head of his cock abused your gspot.

“who’s pussy is this?” he asked as he began to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit.

“your’s. your’s ‘s your’s please let me cum,” you whimpered as you arched into him.

“cum on my cock princess, go ahead,” that’s all it took for you to cum with a loud shriek of his name. he continued his assault on your clit to fuck you through your orgasm as he pulled out and used his free hand to stroke his cock untill he came with a groan of your name, all over your stomach.

that night, after tony took care of you and made sure you peed and were cleaned up, as he pulled you into his chest, you whispered, “can i really be your’s?”

“you can be mine forever if you want princess.” you fell asleep with a wide smile on your face.

⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊⎊

you stayed at the lake after all the avengers had left. you sat against the tree with your left hand on your stomach, staring down at the large ring that tony presented you with just days before going to fight on titan. the one that was supposed to symbolize forever. the one that made tony stark your official future husband.

“i’m pregnant tony...” you whispered as the tears collected on your waterline. “you promised forever. you promised that everything was going to be okay five years ago,” you took a deep breath as you rubbed the small, three month bump that was forming. “what a lie that was.”

how the hell were you going to raise a baby by yourself. how were you supposed to go on without your other half? how were you supposed to heal your heart? your baby would never know how amazing their father was. and your husband would never know how amazing his baby was. it still didn’t feel real. it never would feel real.

but you would figure it out. after all... you were a stark now. and stark’s are nothing if not strong-willed.

#marvel mcu #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #marvel x reader #marvel angst #tony stark angst #tony stark #mcu angst #avengers x reader #avengers angst #marvel smut #tony stark smut #iron man smut #avengers smut

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

📋 Hello I am putting a formal request in for more Chris Saves Himself AU ft Mama Nakamura taking him I’m home only to realize the full situation

Continuing the Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two |

CW: Grief, memory loss, recovering whumpee, some very brief and very vague references to noncon, minor whumpee (OC is 17), angsty fluff, reunion

It takes six days for the cops to let Akio's mom bring Tristan back to their house.

He's ready to be discharged from the hospital by day two, but there's nowhere for him to go. WRU is still saying there's no record of his existence, even with the barcode on his wrist. Tristan's only known living relative, Joanne Botham, is claiming he ran away from home and she had no idea what happened to him, that what she had told the Nakamura family was out of frustration and anger at Tristan for disappearing. The governor is out on bail facing charges for keeping Tristan in the mansion in the first place.

There are a lot of charges.

Akio feels by turns numb and enraged when he hears a news anchor read them out loud, bloodless words that don't seem to reflect at all how serious their meanings are.

The first few, he can process - false imprisonment, bodily assault - but then they keep going, and they get worse in ways Akio can barely even begin to imagine.

What Tristan has lived through... Akio's brain refuses to let it coalesce fully, but he has nightmares, dreams about Tristan screaming for him and being on the other side of a door Aki can't open.

He dreams about hands on Tristan's body and the way he might have screamed for help. Akio wakes up crying, retching, running to the bathroom to throw up whatever he's eaten that day as if he can rid himself of the poison of knowing.

His mom calls a therapist.

His father tells him to stop watching the news.

Akio just waits until they're in bed and searches for everything he can find on twitter, on reddit, on every-fucking-place anyone is talking about this. And it's everywhere.

He stops telling his parents about his nightmares after the second night.

Oliver Branch says WRU sold him a product they knew was outside the bounds of the law and lied to him about it. WRU says they don't know what he could possibly mean by that and they have no paperwork or documentation that Tris was ever in the system at all, and if he was, then there must have been a mistake about his age. They swear they'll do a total review of every single Box Boy, Babe, or Buddy to ensure absolute compliance.

The soundbites make Akio's mouth dry.

How many are there, then? If they have to keep looking to find more? How many like Tristan?

How many?

Joanne Botham, who never answers Aimi's furious calls and then changes her number after the second day, goes on TV and says she did nothing wrong and there's no proof that anything happened except maybe Tristan lying about his name and age to make WRU agree to take him in. Oliver Branch says he has the proof WRU knew, and he'll provide it in exchange for immunity.

They all point fingers at each other on national television, in press conferences and through their attorneys.

Through it all, Tristan sits in a hospital bed staring out the window at the blue sky as though it will be stolen from him all over again, waiting to be told where to go, what to do.

And it takes Aimi nearly a week to get the police to agree to allow her to take him home. She brings everything she can think of to meetings with the detectives heading up the case, shows them reams of team photos and home movies, folders and folders of everything Aimi and Mrs. Higgs had ever talked about or done together with the boys.

The hospital needs the room, needs the bed. The detectives don't want to put him into foster care when he barely seems to understand he's a person. The social services people won't take him because they're not equipped to handle a situation like this one. The adjustment houses don't want him because of something to do with what kind of Boxie he was, and Aimi doesn't elaborate and something in the set of her expression makes it clear Akio shouldn't ask.

After a week of mostly just being able to look at him through the small little square window in the hospital room's door, Aimi finally gets legal permission to take him out of there.

Akio isn't prepared for the slew of news vans that are there when he and Aimi arrive, someone having tipped off reporters that they might get a glance of the governor's secret Box Boy today. Aimi, though, simply sets her shoulders, slides a pair of dark sunglasses on, and walks through the crowd like a queen with her head held high, a small duffel bag handle in hand.

Akio hurries behind her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, hood pulled over his head, trying to ignore ten thousand camera flashes. It's so much worse than the leadup to the Olympics would have been, if he were still performing at elite.

Or at all.

He has a strange, surreal hope that Tris won't be disappointed in him for quitting after Tris died.

Even though he's not dead.

They step into the hospital room around 10 in the morning to find Tristan not in the bed, but sitting on the couch built into the wall under the window, curled up on the crinkly plastic cushions to look out the window, humming low, soft and tuneless.

The hum makes Akio's heart ache with a sudden realization that this odd waking dream he's been living for a week isn't a dream at all. Tears flood his eyes and he has to blink them away as fast as he can. He's heard that hum in his ear as kids during sleepovers, he's heard it when Tris was nervous before performing a new routine, he's heard it while they waited anxiously for scores or studied for school.

"Hey, sweetheart," Aimi says, her voice low and soft, but even so Tris jumps and turns to look at them with wide, startled eyes. One hand goes up to his neck, and Akio swallows when he sees Tris has wrapped gauze around his neck to sit like the collar he was wearing when he fell from the governor's bedroom balcony.

Akio watched the cell phone video that made the rounds over and over and over again. The flash of red hair, shirtless, the bruises he was covered with, his hazy drugged eyes. Over and over and over again.

Watch him fall, watch him land, watch the people run to him and get him out of there when Akio has been sitting here crying his eyes to red half the time for a dead best friend who wasn't dead at all.

"H, Hello," Tristan says, but he doesn't know them. Akio can tell, the way his eyes move between them is uncertain, unsure. "Hello, ma'am. Can, can, can I, what..." He swallows, shivering, and Akio watches the fear move across his face. "What... what can I... do for you?"

His slowed-down voice makes Akio feel sick. He's only ever seen Tristan do that when he's with people who don't understand him or love him for who he is. Now it seems like it's the only way he remembers how to talk.

All Tristan's muscles from gymnastics are gone, leaving only faded shadows of his strength behind. He's skinny, so pale he nearly reflects the light from the ceiling. His freckles are faded, and his hair is shorter than Tris ever liked it.

Being so thin makes his eyes even bigger, they seem to overwhelm the rest of his face.

"Honey, we're going to take you to our house," Aimi says, keeping her voice the same low gentle cadence. "While we figure out what happens next. Aki and I will be taking care of you for a while. How's that sound? Would that be okay?"

Tristan looks between them again, and something shifts in his face. A kind of desperation moves there, and he turns more fully to face them, leaning over a little to look up at them. Hair falls over his forehead, and his hands move to rub over the texture of a loose pair of sweatpants someone gave him to wear under his hospital gown. "To... your house? Would I be... yours?"

He looks at Akio again, and there's something in his face that says he sees that as the best case scenario, that he was ready for far, far worse than simply changing owners. That he's... hoping he'll be Akio's property now.

Akio's stomach flips at the thought and he has to put a hand over his mouth and turn away, catching the sob before it can make its way up out of his throat.

Aimi's arm moves around his shoulders instinctively, and she leans over, pressing a kiss to her son's short black hair. "It's okay," Aimi whispers. "It'll be hard at first. But it's going to be okay, Aki. Saishūtekini wa daijōbudesu. Tristan wa mada anata no shin'yūdesu."

Tristan, sitting on the little couch, blinks a few times. "Friend," he says in English, a little haltingly. "Shin' yu. Means... best friend." He scoots closer to them along the couch, and his eyes are so big and so very, very green. Just how Akio always remembered them.

Aimi's head raises and turns to look at him, her arm tightening around Aki, breath catching in her throat. "You remember that?"

"No." Tristan shakes his head. Scoots a little closer, even. "Yes. I don't know why. Are you..." He looks at Akio. "Wa-... watashitachiha... sh-shin, um, shin-shin'yūdeshita. Yes? Did I-... did I say it right?"

Tristan's Japanese was never great, he'd just picked up some here and there from all the time he spent around the Nakamuras at home and in their car. They used to lay awake at night during sleepovers practicing over and over until Tristan had a new phrase to impress Aimi with.

But hearing his voice, his living breathing real live voice, sounding out the words...

It's too much.

It's too fucking much.

"Yeah, um, y-yeah, you-..." Akio's words are suddenly gone. He chokes on his fear that this somehow is a dream he will wake up from to find Tris still cold in some unknown open grave, and he can't keep the tears back any longer.

His knees buckle under the onslaught of grief and hope and fear and love, and he drops to the cold tile hospital floor, hands pressed over his mouth until his lips are pushed painfully into his teeth, and he wails, muffled but loud enough that there's rustling as the cops guarding the door turn to look inside through the viewing window.

Aimi drops into a crouch behind him, rubbing at his back as he curls over himself. Her voice trembles with tears she doesn't shed. Akio remembers the days after they were told Tristan was dead, how she would cry in her room at night with Aki's dad when he was home from work, but somehow when he and Emi were bawling their heads off, her voice stayed calm, she kept her composure.

Right up until she was alone.

Now, though, she's barely hanging on as her son sobs on a hospital room floor before the emptied-out shell of his best friend.

Bare feet pad along the floor until Tristan drops down in front of him, reaching slowly out. Cool fingertips touch the back of Akio's hand, and he pulls them slowly down to look and see Tristan only a foot or so away from him, kneeling, watching him.

"I know you," Tristan whispers. "It hurts, but... I know... you. Don't, um, don't I?"

Akio can barely see him through the tears that have turned the world to watercolor suggestions. Nothing's in focus. But he grabs onto Tristan's hand, those familiar always-cold fingers, and holds tight.

"You know m-me," He manages. "You do, Tris. You know me. We-... we know you. We want to t-t-take you h-home."

Tristan tilts his head to the side, and it's such a familiar gesture, one he was so sure he'd never get to see again. "My... name is Baldur," He says, softly. "My Sir named me-"

"Please don't call him that. Can you... can you answer to Tristan? Please?" Akio is the one to reach out this time, touching Tristan's shoulder, hesitant. Waiting for him to pull back and away, to flinch like he's been doing when they watch him with the nurses.

Instead, Tris takes a breath and leans into the touch.

"It hurts," He says. "But, but, but, but-... but I can try."

Akio nods, and then Tristan is moving forward, and their arms are around each other and Akio is scared of himself for a second, scared of the welling of feelings he can't control. He's afraid he'll crack Tristan's ribs with how tightly he holds on.

Tristan's face buries itself against his neck, into the crook of his shoulder.

"I missed you so much," Akio whispers against the coppery hair. He's going to start crying again. He can hear his mom sniffing behind him, digging into her purse to pull out the little pack of tissues she always has in there. "I missed you so, so much, Tris."

"I think... I think I, I, I missed you, too," Tristan whispers back, and Akio isn't sure if he can even know if he means it, but he also knows that it's so good to hear the words that he doesn't even care.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

#whump #chris saves himself AU #chris the strawberry blond romantic #akio nakamura #rescued whumpee #escaped whumpee #recovering whumpee #memory loss #dehumanized whumpee #reference to collars #grief tw #referenced death #caretaker and whumpee #memory recovery #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #box boy whump #minor whumpee

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strawberryspence · 3 years

Text

when death knocks on your door

Angst/Fluff [18+] | Spencer Reid x FEM! BAU! Reader

Summary: Some trauma tears people apart, while some brings people together. SSA Doctor Spencer Reid and SSA Doctor Y/N Y/L/N is brought together by the death of SSA Emily Prentiss.

Word Count: 3,13k

Warnings: based on the Ian Doyle/Emily Prentiss character arc so some spoilers for s6-s7. talks about death (a lot of it), mention of drug use, allusions to depression, attempted suicide (nothing graphic), mention of cancer & car crash, a few curse words, description of smut, its very vague (one part only), mentions of therapy, HAPPY ENDING (i am not a monster)

Writer's Note: Hello! A bit of a heavier topic on today's fic! I picked apart the whole Emily arc and this is written basically in the reader's perspective. I love writing angst but I can never end it with sad endings. So I hope you enjoy this, I am very proud of how it turned out! 💛

GIF is made by yours truly. Its surprisingly hard to find "purple shirt + sweater vest spencer reid" gifs.

Death.

Death comes in different shapes and forms.

For Spencer, he has seen it up close with Haley and Hotch, but never with someone in his family or close group of friends. He sees death in the form of abandonment, in ways when people leave him and a part of him goes with them.

For you, you were familiar with death. Death looms over you. You’re father dying when you were younger and then you’re mother in your teens.

Death comes when your father was killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver. It was fast, in a blink, death sweeps him and takes him. All her father’s life and dreams gone in a second, with a crash.

Death comes when your mother was diagnosed with cancer. Cancer, the fucking bitch, takes her time. It was slow, like it was enjoying the pain. It takes and it takes till its taken everything and the last thing it has taken is your mother.

And death comes when it takes Emily Prentiss. This was your best friend, partner in crime and roommate. Her death wasn’t fast, it wasn’t slow, its painstakingly in the middle while you try to get her blood off your hands while sobbing in the SUV as Derek drives way past the legal speed to get to the hospital.

In her death, you find yourself being swallowed by something that you were not. Something bigger, something you can’t describe. The team sees this weeks after she has been buried. You were the same person, and you were a different person, all at once.

One night, when death was about to knock on your door as you hold a knife to your wrist, ready to meet Death, ready to tell him off, it is then when chance knocks on your apartment door.

Spencer is at your door, a sobbing mess with three bottles of dilaudid clenched in his hands. He stumbles in your new apartment avoiding the piles of boxes unopened. You just moved, not being able to sleep in the apartment you and Emily shared.

“I am sorry. I-I am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know where to go. JJ was... busy and I am so close... so close.” Your heart softens at how desperate he looks, Spencer doesn’t know how strong he is to you, being able to ask for help when you were just about to end it all.

You take the bottles from him, setting it on the counter as you guide him to your couch. He clings to you as you both sit on the couch, crying and sobbing.

“Death is among us. Avoiding him is what makes us stronger." You whisper to him and he cries harder.

Something is so bitterly comforting when someone shares the same pain you are suffering. It hurts, but in a funny way, it hurts less when some shares it with you.

So you cling to Spencer as he does to you and you let it all go. You cry as much as he does as he holds you and as you hold him.

You both wake up the next day, with a full 8 hours of sleep, something you both have not had in weeks.

“Thank you.” Spencer whispers and you smile, stroking his hair, “Thank you.” You say it back at him.

You were sure that Emily is laughing at her grave. I had to die for you to finally make a move on your crush. You shake her voice off your head. Now is not the time for silly crushes.

It becomes a routine, finding comfort and safety in each others presence, Spencer almost lives in your apartment. His toothbrush sits on the cup besides yours in the bathroom counter, his clothes takes up half of your closet, his books scattered on the shelfs and his cups on the kitchen counter.

You tell yourself its platonic. Spencer tells himself its platonic. The team doesn’t say anything, only thankful that you were reverting back to your old self and Spencer is getting better.

You want more. It was hard to admit to yourself. But you wanted more with Spencer. Your little crush now growing into something bigger than yourself. You wanted futures full of him and what you have right now is not right. Shared trauma is not love.

Three months into the set up of him basically living in your apartment, you suggest therapy for both of you. You are a Doctor of Psychology and you know the percussions of what you’re doing.

Spencer is shocked but he understands. This was your territory, Spencer knows that this was the right thing to do so he agrees. You lay out all the options to Spencer, all the therapy and how both of you should change your routines more often.

It works. He stops sleeping on your bed every night (he still comes tho, just on the harder nights where he needs to hold you to remind himself that death has yet to take you).

You have breakfast together every morning, using it to comfort each other rather than sleeping together every night. It works.

The therapy helps you both as you both move on from Emily’s death. That is until seven months later.

Declan was missing. You’ve let the Emily case go but Derek has not, you know this and you let him. Every time you want to do something to help Derek catch Doyle, your doctorate that hangs above your couch stares back at you, like it was taunting you. You studied this, moving on was the better choice and you know it. No amount of killing Doyle would bring back Emily, no amount of it would make you feel better.

That is until Hotch gathers the team on the conference room.

“Everybody have a seat.” Hotch instructs. You all look at each other. Spencer looks at you as if asking if you knew what’s up but you only shake your head.

“Why?” Morgan asks, looking around.

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her—“

“What?” You squeak out. Hotch holds his hands up, asking you to hear him out first.

“She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

Spencer can see how your face pales. He reaches for your hand under the table and gives it a tight squeeze. You return the squeeze, finding comfort in his touch.

“She’s alive?” Penelope asks, tears now forming in her eyes.

“But... we buried her.” Spencer says, like its a fact. Like its the solid truth. Your hand clamps down harder on his.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone had any issues, they should be directed to me.” Hotch says and all you can do is look at him, not able to believe anything he is saying.

“Any issues? Yeah, I got issues!” Derek’s loud voice now looming over the room.

“Oh my god.” Penelope squeaks making the whole room turn around. You turn around and you see Emily walking to the room. Your hold unto Spencer tightens, as if checking if he is real, you want any sign that this is not a dream, that this is real.

“I am so sorry. I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to...” Emily explains.

Death comes and it takes, and it takes, and it takes but never has Death give someone back to you.

Emily was standing in front of you. The woman whose blood stained your hands for days, the woman you buried, the woman who’s grave you cried on for god knows how long that Derek had to physically carry you away from her grave and here she was breathing and hugging the team.

She comes in front of you and you still haven’t let go of Spencer’s hand.

“Y/N?” She says, it comes as a whisper. A whisper, coming from the ghost that has been haunting you for months. She opens her arms for a hug and you let go of Spencer to hug her.

She was real, she was solid and she’s hugging you back. So why, in the mountain of emotions you are feeling, why is happiness in the bottom of the pit? Why is anger the one screaming in your heart?

You pull away, and she hugs Spencer but as soon as she lets go, Spencer captures your hands again. Emily sees this and smiles, but doesn’t say anything.

“There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will. I promise. But right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan.” The team continued to discuss Declan and Spencer holds unto your hand like its his life line. You only break apart when the team has to work again.

He gives you one look as he separates away from you, “I got you.” He says, kissing your temple before leaving to go to the interrogation room.

That was enough to calm you down.

The team gets Declan back safely and after all the trials, you finally had a moment to breathe.

“Hey, you doing good?” Spencer asks. You nod. He looks good, he looks like home in a purple shirt and sweater vest.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks you. You want to shout but you’re my home! You nod and he takes your scarf from your desk and wraps it around you.

“Let’s go?” You smile at him as he wraps it around you. It felt so domestic, so familiar.

You walk together to the elevator, leaving the BAU and all the piles of emotions that you’ve been through this past few days. As you both stand in the silver tin box, you see your reflection with him standing beside you, his arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder.

You wanted to scream how much you love him. But the voice in your head screams back, he doesn’t love you! It’s shared trauma! You shake your head and Spencer sees this.

“You okay? How are you feeling?” You smile up at him, as he looks at you with all the worries that a person can hold for another one.

“Yes, I am good, Spence. How about you?” He smiles and kisses the top of your head. “I am good. I just need time to process some of the things that has happened.”

Spencer drives you both home. Spencer doesn’t take the word hate lightly but Spencer hates driving. He still drives tho, for you. Holding your hand while he drives with the other, while you were staring out of the window, just watching the places blur by.

Death waits on your door and when the right time comes, it will knock. When it does, you can’t turn it away or send it away. When it knocks, it sweeps you off your feet, leaving no time for goodbyes or regrets. Ironically, Spencer walks you to your door, opening it for you and even taking your scarf off for you.

Your heart almost grows twice its size and you can feel yourself bursting in its seams. You find yourself closing the door, as if trying to block Death away from him. He smiles at you and something bursts inside of you.

“I love you, Spence.”

He drops your keys on the bowl on your hallway and he smiles, teasingly. “I love you, too, Dr. Y/L/N.” You smile but you shake your head.

“No Spence, I love you. With my whole heart... I mean, of what’s left of it. W-we need to stop, if this is only a shared trauma for you. I can’t be that... because... I love you and I want futures with you. Any kind of it, as long as you are there, every morning with a cup of hot coffee for me. If that’s not possible, we need to stop. Because my heart...” You hold unto the edge of the table for strength.

“My heart... is not strong enough to lose you and love you at the same time.” Spencer stares at you, confused with a certain spark in his eyes.

“W-why are you saying this now?”

“Because death is at everyone’s door. Emily is lucky. But what if it takes me tonight, or tomorrow? I don’t want to die without telling you that I love you.” You say, bracing yourself for the impact of the rejection.

Spencer walks to you, holding your waist to steady you.

“I love you, more than anything in this world. I have love you even before Emily died. This isn’t shared trauma, it’s been love way before that. If it's anything, it made my love for you grow deeper. You... helped me heal. You pushed me to go to therapy. You made me stronger, Y/N.” Spencer holds your face and brings you into his arms and you clung unto him as he hugs you.

“I love you... I love you so much.” You whisper to him and he hugs you as close as humanly possible.

Spencer lets go of you but cups your face to lift it closer to his face. Spencer kisses you like it was the last time you can ever kiss him. It felt like a fever dream you once had. The fire of the kiss fills in the cracks in your heart, slowly but surely healing it all at once.

Life, the direct opposite of death, has always been hard to describe. Death was easy to describe for you but Life? it was a struggle. But with Spencer kissing you, as he holds your hand and your face, so tenderly like you were going to break, you finally realize what life is supposed to be. It felt good being alive, it felt good to be breathing.

You and Spencer sleep together for the first time that night. It is in one word, unbelievable. It was as if the universe has planned it all along to teach you what it felt to be alive, as he pushes himself inside you, whispering nothing but sweet praises and promises of futures together in your ear. You wake up, hours after making love, tangled with him and the bed sheets, with you in his arms.

“I love you.” You whisper to him, brushing through his hair as he sighs to your touch, snuggling more to the crook of your neck.

The morning comes in a breathe. Easy and fast. You wake up earlier than Spencer, untangling yourself from him to make him his daily morning coffee.

A knock comes and it almost makes you drop his mug. Looking up at the clock, it was only 7 in the morning. The thought disappears as another knock comes. You open the door and today life offers you Emily Prentiss.

“Hey, good morning.” She says with a smile, you give it back, still not used to seeing her, alive.

“Hey.” You smile looking at her as you let her enter.

“Pen said you had my boxes.” She looks around on the apartment. “Its not here. Its on the garage downstairs. Do you want it right now?” She nods. “Oh. Uhm, the team actually helped me move it there, its a little heavy...”

“Okay... I’ll get the team to help me later.” You nod but don’t say anything and the silence is so loud, it’s deafening.

“Can we talk?” Emily asks, in a gentle voice. Almost like she’s talking to a toddler. You shake your head. “We can, but not today... I need to process some things first and I need help with it. We can talk this weekend, after my therapy.”

“Therapy?” She repeats. You nod. “Therapy.” She bites down her lips, you know Emily enough to know that she feels bad about it.

“I know it’s not your fault, Em. I understand, but I just... need time. I... buried you. I cried on your grave and for months, I had to accept the fact that you were... dead.” Emily nods, opens her arms for a hug and you gladly accept it.

“I’ll give you as much time as you need. You are my bestfriend and I love you.” You nod and hug her tightly, reminding yourself that she was alive, and that was what’s important.

The hug was cut short when Spencer comes out of your bedroom half naked.

“Spencer?!” Emily almost screams as she pulls away from the hug.

“O-oh... I-I didn’t know you were here...” He says as he slowly backs up the door and picks up a shirt to wear.

“When did this happened!?” Emily is definitely losing her mind now.

“Uh... Last night?” You said, not exactly sure as to when it started. Emily’s mouth drops in surprise and Spencer can only smile at her offering her a cup. “Coffee?” Spencer says with a smile and a shrug that makes both you and Emily laugh.

Emily doesn’t stay long after that, opting to leave the two of you to spend some time together. Spencer and you end up in the couch, huddled together in a huge blanket you both knitted together with cups of coffee in hands.

“So... Are you officially moving in with me?” Spencer looks down at you. The steam of the coffee colouring your cheeks a bright pink colour.

“Do you want me to?” He asks, smiling at you. Spencer loves you, in ways he didn’t know he possibly can and he’d give you anything you want. You could ask for the stars and Spencer would build a rocket just to get a few to give to you (even if he knows it was impossible because, well, stars are made of gas.)

“I want you everywhere. You... are my home.” You say softly, as your hands caress his cheeks.

“Then, I am moving here, love.” He says as he kisses your forehead and you lean unto him as you wrap the blanket tighter around each other.

“I love you.” He says as you lay your head on his chest and he brings you closer to him. You smile and whisper it back. “I love you more.”

Most people say that time heals pain. It, truthfully, does not. Love does, love in the corniest way possible, mends your soul in ways that are not physically possible.

When Death knocks on your door it will be in different shapes and forms, but so will love and for you, love came in the shape and form of Spencer Reid.

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