#sorry guys not tagging the blond guy because i forgot his name instantly

[whaleofatjme1920]

Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.

#ticci toby #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #x reader #reader insert #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #toby creepypasta

[rudystopit]

24 Hour Diner

[hawks x f!reader]

summary: you're a waitress at a 24 hour diner. a sexy hero walks in after his night shift. he flirts with you the whole night.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, oral (female receiving), riding, overstimulation, and hookup.

wc: 2.4k

the blonde hair pro hair sat in a late diner after a late night shift. he was the only costumer so full attention was on him. a young woman wearing a pale yellow dress uniform walks up to his table. Her name tag say “y/n.” she smiles and hands her the menu.

“How is your chicken, this late at night, Dove?” The girl rolls her eyes at the name, but still smiles hoping his tip will be worth the messed up sleep schedule.

“Ricky is working tonight so they’re gonna be amazing,” you say, turning to place the menu on the counter and pulling out the little notebook. “We’ve got chicken sandwiches, fried chicken, chicken tenders,” you continue through all the chicken items on the menu, but you know he isn’t listening.

“Fried chicken, please,” Keigo smiles and turns to his phone. You scribble down his order and walk back to the window to Ricky.

You could feel his eyes leave his phone and watch how your h/c ponytail sways while you walk. You sigh and lean into the window. Ricky leans over the corner under the window. “The way he’s looking at you, he may tip you big,” he chuckled and tokes the slip. you turn to the coffee pots and pour yourself a cup.

It’s as good as shitty diner coffee can be at 2 am. You lean against wall and watch the pro hero play on his phone. His beautiful golden hair was pushed back with his glasses and his eyes are slowly shutting and opening quickly.

You turn back to the coffee pots and pour another cup. Balancing the creamer and sugar in one hand while trying not to spill the cup was harder than it looks. You make your way to his table. He looks up and gives a confused look.

“On the house, you look like you’re gonna pass out,” Keigo smiles and takes the cup and sugars.

“Thanks little dove,” you roll your eyes while walking to the back.

You hop onto one of the tables Ricky wasn’t using. “He likes you,” you give him a questioning look. “He’s in here every week after his shift and he’s normally cranky and rude due to the being tired and probably starving,” he walks to you. “But tonight he’s sickly sweet and giving you smiles and little pet names,”

You blush a little. Sure Keigo was attractive but you’re just a waitress at a 24 hour diner. You’re covered in grease and your hair is probably slick with sweat. How can this handsome pro hero like you?

“Tell him it’s gonna be a few more minutes and that cake slices are half off due to the hour,” Ricky smacks your shoulder, snapping you out of your daze.

You make your way to the beautiful blonde. His golden eyes snap up to you with this look of a little kid then it drops when he see you don’t have his food.

“Sorry it’s gonna be a few more minutes,” you blush at his magnificent eyes, “cakes are half off. You know we gotta get rid of them before morning shift and my kitchen is filled with leftovers so,” you ramble on and on while he stares in awe.

“Sure, I’ll take a slice, whatcha got left?” Keigo smiles as you shift to look at the case.

“Um, double chocolate, vanilla strawberry, and I think lemon but i can check if you want,” you don’t notice he is 100% starring down your dress as you lean to see the cakes. you turn back to him and he is zoned out looking at your chest. You blush and try to call him back to earth. You clear your throat, “s-so which one would you l-like?” He snaps back to earth with a shake of his head. His large hand makes it way through his hair and he chuckles.

“Chocolate is fine,” there’s a light tint to his cheeks. you rush away to the cakes and he watches you pull out the tray. Keigo smiles when you run back to the kitchen because you forgot a knife and it only gets wider while you try to figure out how big of a piece you think he wants.

“Ricky,” you yell.

“Four fingers, y/n,” you look embarrassed then measured out the piece and made the cut. You put in on a plate and make sure it looks perfect. you round your way to the table.

He notices your coming his way and Keigo quickly opens his phone. He tries to act as natural as possible. He puts the phone down when you place the plate in front of him. He smiles and thanks you as you walk to the back.

You sigh and lean against the table. Ricky is putting the food in the frier. He turn to you with a plate. a beautiful burger and golden fries. You mouth waters looking at it. He hands you the plate. “Eat,” you didn’t have to be told twice. You devoured the burger and fries within minutes.

“Thank you,” you smile as you go to wash the plate. The late 80s music softly playing through the speakers makes you bob your head to the beat. You place the plate to dry and turn to ricky, who just put Keigo’s food on the counter.

You make your way to the front and behind the bar to pick up the plate. a few quick steps and you standing by his booth. Clean plate in front of him. He was leaning against his palm, sleeping. His phone was on instagram on some craft video. You chuckle and place the plate down.

He snaps awake. “Oh sorry, here’s your food,” you laugh. You pick up the cake plate and make your way to go wash it.

“It was delicious,” he slightly yells. You smile and walk to the back. Ricky is eating some fries.

“Leave it; I’ll wash it. Go talk to him,” he pushes you out the kitchen.

“He’s eating,” you push back.

“He’s like a kid. He’ll talk even if his mouth is full of food,” he lowers himself and pushes you out the door. You stumble and Keigo looks at you. You smile and wave then instantly turn to flip ricky off, who is laughing.

You stand behind the bar and start re cleaning it.

“Do you guys get a lot of people this late?” He asks putting a fry in his mouth.

“Mostly heroes and people getting out of work late,” you smile.

“Do you normally work this time?” He asked looking at his chicken, deciding which piece to eat first.

“Um, not really. I work the lunch and dinner hours, but one of the girls said she can’t do tonight so I’m here,”

“That’s good for me, I guess,” he smiles. You start blushing. he eats his food silently for a few minutes. Then he huffs and says, “hey little dove? Can I get a box?” You quickly drive down to look for the box hoping he didn’t see you face fully red.

You slowly remerge with a box and slowly walk to hand it to him. you heart is pounding in your ears. You plop down the box and pretty much sprint to behind the bar. You face the window to see ricky crying laughing at you.

You hear Keigo stand up and make his way to the cash register. you turn around and quickly type in the machine. “$13.19,” you say not making eye contact. He hands you a $20 and goes to leave. You didn’t notice since you were to worried giving back the right amount of change. You look up and he’s gone.

“Run, bitch,” ricky yells.

You make your way out in the cold morning chasing after a handsome young pro hero with $6.81 in hand. He was standing on the corner waiting for a cab. You run away to him.

“Here,” you hold out your hand.

“Your tip?” He says, laughing. Your face turns instantly red and his laugh only became louder. “Oh boy, someone needs to go to bed,”

You make your way back to the diner. Something grabs you waist and pulls you closer to him. His warm chest makes the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely ape shit. His free hand pulls your chin up to meet his wonderful golden eyes. The hint of lust spreads through his eyes and to your cheeks then down your chest to your core. He smirks and pulls away.

Met with the cold air makes you shiver. He opens the car door and gets in. You stood there too stunned to move. His head pops out, “coming with little dove?” He calls out. You rush into the car. Completely living your phone, wallet, keys and jackets at the diner.

His large hand rests on your upper tight as he tells the driver where to go. You rest your head on his large shoulder as his gently leans into yours.

It didn’t take long till you were at his building. It was a four story brick building. Ivy growing up the side. You followed Keigo to the door as he unlocks It and make his way up the stairs. Once you made it to the old white door, he pushes you up against it.

His warm breath travels down your neck. Your hand snakes to his soft hair. One of his hands slowly make its way but your skirt. you whisper “lets go in,” he snaps out of his daze and unlocks the door.

You follow him in and the second the door slams, you up against it. Kisses pepper your neck and soft pants escape your lips. Keigo finds the spot that makes you melt and gives it a little suck. Your hands grab onto his hair and his side. He makes a low groan which sends a shiver down your back. You arc your back bring yourself closer to him.

He pulls away and takes off his jacket and shirt and you pull off your sneakers and shorts from under your skirt. He grabs you hand and pulls you to him. He holds your hand up and his other hand is on your hip. He presses his forehead to yours and starts swaying back and forth. You start laughing.

“Mmm, sounds like heaven,” he whispers and plants a kiss on your lips. You blush and push your body closer to him. He grunts into the kiss and pulls you to the couch. He twirls you and you skirt flares up as you laugh. You fall onto the couch awaiting Keigo to lean down and kiss you. He kneels on the couch and drags his hands up your legs as he leans down to kiss you, “you’re so beautiful y/n” he whispers inches from your nose.

He peppers your neck with more kisses and hickies. His hand slides up your skirt once again and pulls your panties to the slide. He brings his finger to your clit and light brushes over it causing you to mewl. You feel him smile against your skin.

He slides two fingers through your folds and giving your clit and little flick. You moan arcing your back. He sits up and take both hands at your knees. You blush and close your eyes. Keigo slides his hands up your thighs bring the skirt up with it. You are so happy that it was laundry day and wore your “special occasion” underwear. He smirks and puts his finger around the waistband and painfully pulling them down slowly. he gets them off and toss it into the pile he’s already started with his clothes.

He sinks in between your legs and his hot breath sends a jolt through you. Your hand found its way back to his soft hair as he drags his tongue through your folds. Two fingers slide into his mouth and then alined themself to your entrance. He sucks you clit while sliding the two fingers into you. You moan and thug his hair slightly.

he slowly thrusted his fingers in and out at an aching slow pace.

“Ah~ please faster,” you moaned. He chuckled and speed up. You arc your back and your grip on his hair tightened.

“Fuck, little dove, you’re so tight,” he said causing you to blush even more than you already were. He curled his fingers to hit have spongy parts of you that most men normal don’t get.

The sensation hit your core and you let out a breathy, “fuck.” He continued to move his fingers making sure to hit there a few times. His tongue was doing wonders on your throbbing clit. Within minutes you were reaching your climax. he continued his work while you came.

once your death grip on his hair loosened he sat up and rubbed his head. “Ouch, little dove,” you laugh. He pulls off his pants while you sit up and try to unzip your uniform. After a few seconds of struggling he gets up and unzips it for you while planting little kisses down your shoulder and arm. He pulls the dress over your head to join his pants. With a swift movement he unclips your bra and it too is thrown across the room. He sits behind you on the couch and you turn around to see what he’s doing.

he’s sitting there waiting for you to make a move. You climb up onto his lap and he grabs his member. Long, slow drags across your folds then he positions himself in front of your entrance. You sink down onto his lap. The pressure hurts slightly and you grab his shoulders. “Fuck y/n,” he groans. you sit there getting used to his size. You pepper his neck with kisses and bites.

Soon you rocked your hips and his hands fell to your hips. Keigo slowly picks up the pace till you’re practically bouncing on his lap. He’s enjoying the view and the little noises you make. He starts moaning in your ear, he’s almost done. “You’re doing so well little dove,” one of his hands reaches around to rub your clit.

Within seconds the knot starts to build up and Keigo is close too. Soon you’re coming undone and your pussy starts milking him. That was the push he needed and he’s coming undone. You two ride out your high. You fall onto his chest. Both of you are heavily panting.

through pants he says, “my name is Keigo, by the way,”

“Im y/n” you say back.

“I know. Your name tag is somewhere on the floor,” he laughs.

#hawks #hawks mha #hawks my hero academia #hawks boku no hero academia #hawks bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero smut #smut #hawks smut #my hero academy smut #mha smut #bnha smut #fanfiction #fanfic

[arvandus]

Touch (pt 9) - Amity

PAIRING: Dabi x Fem!Reader

STORY WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: talk of killing, blood, needle/medical sewing; pining... lots of resistant pining.  Typical sensory overload due to quirk use.

CHAPTER SONG: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

Part 1   Part 8

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 9: Amity

Between your second night in a row of poor sleep and waking up incredibly early, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to find you again.  By mid-day your sensory overload had subsided enough that you collapsed into your bed, dreamless sleep dragging you under instantly.  It was short-lived, however; it felt like no sooner had your head hit the pillow, that a knock on your door roused you groggily from your slumber.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stood up and answered the door to see Toga standing in front of you, a bloodied washcloth held to her temple.

“Oh my god, what happened to you??” you exclaimed, as you let her into your room.

“I was out running some errands and a thug tried to jump me in an alleyway.” Toga replied cheerfully. She halted in her tracks.  “Oh… aren’t you still sick with the flu?”  She instantly covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, taking a step back.

“Huh? Oh!” you exclaimed. Right.  Crap. You forgot about that little white lie.  “Sorry, hang on a sec.”  You quickly went to your medical bag and pulled out a white disposable mask, placing it over your face.  “Is that better?” You asked, your voice muffled.

The tension in Toga’s shoulders instantly left, her posture easing as her hand dropped away from her face. “Yeah, thanks.  Are you feeling okay?  I could try to do this myself this time…”

You balked at the thought of Toga treating her own injuries.

“I’m fine right now, I promise.” You replied. 

The blonde shrugged and fully entered your space, although her folded hands in front of her body communicated she didn’t want to touch anything.

“So, a guy jumped you in an alley?” You asked.

“Yeah.  He was big, too.  And had a quirk that gave him extra reach on his arms.”  Toga explained.

You weren’t quite sure what sort of errands required Toga to be in alleyways, but you had a feeling none of them were good. The curiosity pulled at you - you could feel the question on your lips, but you swallowed it down.  When you had first joined the League, you and Shigaraki had discussed the importance of compartmentalizing your role from the others.  You were the only one out of the group who was defenseless after all, so as the weakest link within the League, you had both decided it would be best if you knew as little of the League’s affairs as possible, in case you ever got captured and questioned.  You were allowed to participate in general discussions regarding the League’s next moves and what areas were important to you that you wanted to focus on, but the nitty gritty details were kept separate: private meetings with other villains, locations, times, that sort of thing.  So, despite your curiosity, you knew not to pry.

Instead, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “but I can’t get this to stop bleeding.”

“Let’s take a look.” You gingerly removed the cloth from the wound to see a deep gash in the skin before new blood filled up. You placed the washcloth back over the wound before it could spill over.  “Hm. Better keep that on there.  You’re going to need stitches.”

“I figured.” She grinned. She took over holding the cloth to her head while you grabbed your medical bag.  You escorted her into your bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat. Her outfit was speckled with blood, some of it from her wound, and, you suspected, some of it not.

“So…” you started, as you washed your hands in the sink. “What happened to the thug?”

“I drained him.” She replied cheerfully.  The casualness of her statement filled you with a confusing mixture of fear and pity.

“You killed him?” you asked, as you prepped your needle and thread.

Toga looked at you with her yellow feline-like eyes.  “He would have killed me if I didn’t.”

“Tilt your head back.” You instructed.  Toga did as you said, and you carefully removed the cloth before placing your fingers over her open wound. She winced slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxed as your quirk soaked in. 

Silence filled the room as you cleaned her wound with antiseptic and set to work.  The heavy quiet dragged on as your mind mulled over the girl next to you.  You had a thousand questions in your mind, but none of them seemed very appropriate to ask, not without upsetting her.  And despite your good standing with the League, you made it a careful point not to get on anyone’s bad side.  It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust them, although a part of you was always wary around those who were willing to commit violence.  But you also understood on a personal level that the problems these villains had went far deeper than society was willing to acknowledge.  Mental illness, quirkology, environment… all of it played a role in dealing the hand that these outcast individuals had been dealt.

Minutes passed as you stitched up the cut and cleaned the blood from the sealed wound once more. You were washing your hands when Toga finally spoke, her voice soft.  “Are you mad at me?”

You paused to look down at her.  Her brow was furrowed, her mouth pulled into a sulky frown as she stared at her hands. She looked like a child waiting to be scolded, and in that moment, you could see how young she still was.  You gave a soft sigh.  “Of course not.  He attacked you, right? You had to defend yourself.”

You paused then followed up with, “I’m sorry you had to do it.”

“Don’t be…” she replied. “I liked killing him.”

Your hands faltered as you began putting away your supplies and Toga noticed. 

“You don’t like it, do you?” she asked, accusation lacing her voice. She was defensive, waiting for your judgement. 

You couldn’t blame her. No doubt her quirk was something she likely struggled with all of her life before finally giving in to it.  She had never given you her story directly, but it wasn’t hard to guess.  Everything about her – from her ramblings to her actions - spoke of a caged animal who finally got a taste of freedom and refused to be captured.

Contradicting feelings warred within you, and you struggled to wrangle them.  You had to admit, you hated the idea of her killing.  More importantly, you knew that her victims weren’t always street thugs, villains, or corrupted heroes.  But at the same time, despite this uncomfortable fact, you also understood how strongly quirks affected behavior, how it could act like a poison, messing with the mind and forcing its way into being expressed.  It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it; you understood it intimately.

You looked down at her and a familiar sense of pity unfurled in your gut, snaking into your veins, pulling at your emotions even as your core roiled at the idea of needless violence. She was just like him... a victim in her own way, despite the horrific things she did.

“You think I’m a monster.” Her words cut through your thoughts, and your attention refocused on her. She had her knees hugged up to her chest, her feet propped on the closed toilet lid that she occupied.  You mentally scolded yourself for abandoning her as you got lost in your head and crouched down next to her.

“No.  I don’t think you’re a monster.” You answered soothingly.

“Then why do you look scared of me?” Toga demanded. 

You gave her a smile that you hoped reached your eyes. She was more perceptive than you gave her credit for sometimes.  You had to choose your words carefully. 

“I’m not scared of you.” You explained.  “ But I am a healer, Toga. I see someone who’s hurt, and I want to take that pain away.  It’s what my quirk is. It’s a part of who I am and it’s what motivates me. So, I won’t deny that it’s hard for me sometimes to understand why you do what you do because it’s so opposite of how I am.”

Toga averted her eyes, her body tightening in on itself.

“But…” you continued as you placed a hand on her forearm, “I’m not scared of you.  And even though you do monstrous things, I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Toga slowly lowered her knees, letting her feet touch the floor as she stared at you.  “Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” you replied, “You still care about people.  You and Twice were the first to welcome and befriend me when I joined the League. And the way you take care of Twice… like he’s your big brother… that counts for something.  You even care about Dabi, even though he’s an ass. That was why you checked on him that night, right?  You treat each of us like family.  Now why would a monster do that?”

“But I still want to cut you guys all the time…” she confessed.

“I know.  But you don’t.  That should count for something.”

Toga smiled at you with teary eyes.  “You’re so nice, big sis.”  Her compliment made you smile. 

Toga hopped of the toilet with a nimble bounce, signaling the end of the conversation.  “Am I all done?”

You nodded.  “You’re free to go.” You announced.  Toga made her way to your bedroom door, but she halted when you called her name.  “Toga… don’t forget to change your clothes.”

Toga looked down at the bloodstains splattered across her school uniform.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Thanks, big sis!”

She left your room with a jovial wave.  As soon as the door closed behind her, you slumped down onto your bed as you removed the white mask from your face and placed it on your nightstand.  Exhaustion washed over you again, deeper this time than it was before.  It wasn’t even so much due to your quirk since you didn’t have to use very much of it this time.  Instead, your mind focused on Toga, replaying the conversation.  It filled you with a swath of competing emotions; pity, anger, frustration, helplessness, fear.  The feelings swirled in you making a rank stew in your soul, old and familiar.

This was just like before.

You shoved the feelings aside, unwilling to look too closely at them. You already had enough on your plate as it was… you didn’t want to dredge up more of the past.  It would only add more stress and it wouldn’t change anything.

You laid down again in the hopes that this time, finally, your sleep would be nightmare free and uninterrupted.

 * * * * *

The withdrawal-induced restlessness Dabi felt lasted throughout the day, making sleep near impossible.  To keep himself from going crazy, he forced his energy into cleaning up his space, despite his typical disdain for chores.  He straightened up his desk, took out the trash, and most importantly, did his laundry. It was overflowing and stank of mildew, and he was in desperate need of clean towels.  His bed was no better, reeking of sweat and infection and covered in chip crumbs. But while his body appreciated the movement, the lack of mental power the activities required did little to distract from intrusive, obsessive thoughts.

He wasn’t sure which thoughts he wanted to avoid more - thoughts of his family or thoughts of you.  The memories of family were old and familiar, but the emotions in them were raw, threatening to suck him in and shred him to pieces like it’d already done so many times before.  But thoughts of you weren’t much better, at least not to Dabi. He didn’t like the warmth he felt each time he thought of you, and yet he kept going back to that feeling, like opening the fridge to stare at that last piece of cake.  He was at war with himself, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

Somehow, with all of his coming and going from his room, he somehow managed to never run into you. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but like all other uncomfortable thoughts, his forced himself not to focus on it.  It shouldn’t be important.  You shouldn’t be important.  His mouth pressed into a thin line.  The number of times he had to tell himself that were becoming too many to count, and it never did seem to make much difference.  

The cleaning only occupied him for so long.  Towards the end of it he found himself sitting in his room, waiting for his clothes to finish drying so he could retrieve them.  He had laid back on his bed just for a moment, to stare at his phone. He woke up an hour and a half later, his mind muddled with jumbled dreams and memories.  Cigarette smoke, a child’s laughter, the sound of himself screaming in agony…

He shook his head to knock the unwanted fog from his brain and grabbed a smoke to soothe the shaking in his hands.  The cigarette was gone within a minute.  The haze still lingered though as every inch of Dabi’s nerves hummed and his gut clenched in discomfort.  So, he inhaled a second cigarette for good measure and followed it up with an electrolyte drink paired with a couple of antacids.  His laundry was likely done now; no point in letting it sit there and risk another League member touching his things.

With the laundry dry and sitting on his bed in a crumpled heap, he stared at the contents, a frown on his face.  Your towels were mingled with his, and the sight of it filled him with an uneasiness that had little to do with his withdrawal.  It looked entirely alien to him, intrusive in his personal space.  His stomach gave a weird flutter before giving way to a wave of nausea.

Stupid, he thought to himself.  They’re just fucking towels.

He began folding the first towel. It was half-assed in its effort and one hundred percent intentional, as if giving careful care to your items would give away something about himself he wanted to keep secret.  But even as he did so, intrusive curiosity crept into his mind.  How did you fold your towels?

Idiot.  He caught his wandering mind and reeled it back in forcefully, but it did little good. His mind was a master escape artist, running away to explore other unwanted thoughts without his permission as soon as his mental back was turned.

As he folded your items, his hands slowed slightly in their actions, taking in the feel of cotton on his fingers. He watched as he rolled the soft material between his thumb and forefinger while memories bubbled forth, broken and vague.  Waking up in the shower, sitting on the toilet with your towel over his head, feeling of your hands working the cotton over his wet hair. He tried not to think of your face, but of course not wanting it made it appear in his mind.  He remembered your eyes, the concern in them, and the memory filled him with a warmth that he was still struggling to understand, even as he tried to deny its presence. 

It was short-lived – the memory of your tender gaze soon faded away to a terrified one, and now he was remembering your scar.  A new thought came into his mind then, dark and plaguing. The look of fear you’d given him that night - did you wear that same frightened expression on your face when you were burned, marked by whatever asshole laid their hands on you?

Dabi could feel his body temperature begin to rise.

The last towel was folded, and he swiftly grabbed the pile and shoved it on top of his dresser as if were contaminated.  Contaminated with memories, contaminated with you…

He faltered for a moment, his anger disrupted by that strange sense of guilt that gnawed at him.  The unwelcome mental picture of you cowering in fear as flames licked your skin danced in his imagination.  No wonder you had been so utterly terrified of him that night. No wonder you’d been unable to look him in the eyes the next day…

Dabi caught himself staring at your things and forced himself to turn around to finish his laundry. He folded his clothes swiftly, not caring whether or not they were done nicely before shoving them into the dresser drawer. Then, with his clean towels in his arm, he went into the bathroom to give himself that much-needed shower.

 * * * * *

You woke up feeling groggier than usual as the orange-red glow of the late afternoon haze filtered into your room. As predicted, your sleep was restless and riddled with hazy uncomfortable dreams that instantly began to fade away as soon as you opened your eyes.  You sighed in annoyance as dissatisfaction slinked across your tired skin. It was as if you had slept the entire time with your body tensed, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and now you were feeling the effects. 

You got out of bed with a stretch to ease the stiffness in your muscles.  Maybe something to eat and drink could lift your spirits and wake your body up.  You slipped on your shoes and opened the door before remembering to grab your mask off of your nightstand.  Then, you left your room to trudge downstairs.

The smell of pizza greeted you as soon as you stepped out onto the main floor, and your stomach growled in response, your mouth watering.

“Y/N!” Toga cheered. “Did you take a nap?”

You frowned as your hand self-consciously went to your messy hair. Was it really that obvious?

“Yeah, I was pretty tired.” You confessed, as you tried to fix your stray strands.

“Are you feeling any better?” Magne asked.  You could tell she was asking about the ‘flu’ you were supposed to have.

You shrugged. “Yeah, a little…”

“And how about Dabi? You were treating him too, right?” Magne continued.

You felt embarrassment bubble in you, and you scratched at your cheek as a distraction.  “He’s doing okay… I think it’s hitting him harder, though. He’s probably going to need some more time to recover.”

“He came down here yesterday without a mask and everything.” Spinner grumbled. “Then decided to take a stroll.  He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”

You shrugged. “Stomach bugs are weird and vary from person to person.”

Shigaraki’s voice surprised you from behind.  “How’s his burn?”

He knew about that…?  Maybe Dabi said something the day before.  Either way, no point in lying about it now…

“It’s doing well... but it’s not completely healed yet.”

Shigaraki grunted and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the bar.

“Hey, Y/N!  You want some pizza?” Twice offered.

“Yes, that’d be-“

“She can’t eat pizza when she has the flu!” Toga scolded.  “She might throw it up.  She needs something simple!”

Your heart sank.  No pizza??

“No, it’s okay…” you started, your eyes staring at the perfect slice.

“I’ll go make you something, okay big sis?” Toga chirped as she bounded lightly towards the small kitchen behind the bar.

Oh… oh no….

“Oh, um… it’s okay Toga, I’m not really hungry…” you tried to call after her, but she was already gone and out of earshot.

You fiddled with your hands nervously.  Cooking was not one of Toga’s strong suits.  Fortunately, Kurogiri was present, watching the exchange.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t burn down the kitchen.” He commented, as he followed after her.

You stood there awkwardly, strongly contemplating grabbing the entire pizza box and running away with it. But you’d just had that personal exchange with Toga earlier, so abandoning her when she was trying to do something nice for you probably wouldn’t go over well.

Damn it.  You were too nice for your own good sometimes.

On defeated feet, you walked over to the couch and sat down next to Compress who was reading a book. He put the item down as you sat next to him and gave you a smile.  “How nice of you to grace me with your company, little flower.”

You crossed your arms and sulked into the couch cushions, wishing they would swallow you up.  “Toga is cooking for me.”

“Oh dear, so I heard.” He commented.  “However, Kurogiri is supervising her.  Perhaps this time it won’t be so bad.”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” You pointed out.

“True,” he laughed. “But perhaps you set your standards too high.  I never said he’d ensure that the food is good; however, his assistance may ensure that it is edible.”

“Don’t you use logic on me, Mr.” you replied, even as you tried to suppress a smile.

“Then perhaps a magic trick then?” he offered.  “As a distraction.”

“Sure.” You grinned.

A few minutes later, Toga came out with two steaming bowls sitting on a rectangular tray.

“Oh good! You’re still here!” Toga smiled.  “I made you soup!”

You stifled a groan as you stood up and stared at the contents.  It… didn’t look bad…. It looked like it was canned soup at least, which, all things considered, were one of the simplest things to make. Still, it had that a slight burned odor to it when the steam reached your nose.

“Why are there two bowls?” you asked.

“Oh!  One’s for you and one’s for Dabi.”  Toga explained.  Behind her, Magne chuckled at the table.  “He hasn’t come down to eat yet today so he’s probably hungry.”

“It was my suggestion.” Kurogiri stated.  “You are still sick after all, so it would be in the League’s interest if you and Dabi had your meals in your rooms until you are no longer contagious.”

“Maybe it can be like a little dinner date!” Toga added.

You fought the flush of hot heat that seemed to take over your insides.  “A what?”

The last thing you needed was the League thinking you and Dabi were dating.

The blonde girl giggled as she handed you the tray.  Her hands instantly went up to her hot cheeks, her eyes glazed over with infatuation. “What I wouldn’t give to have a private dinner date with Izuku!”

“Oh geez, not this again…” Spinner grumbled.

“Hey!” Toga shot at him.  “It’s rude to tease a girl in love!”

You were grateful that Toga was easily distracted, and you took the opportunity to make your escape. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll go take this upstairs then… Thank you, Toga.” You mumbled.

You walked out of the room quickly, the soup sloshing in the bowls and threatening to spill.  But you wanted to get out of there before things got even more awkward.  Toga wasn’t even the real concern – the real concern was Magne.  Her chuckle had not gone unnoticed by you, and she was a master conversationalist when she wanted to be.  The last thing you needed was more intrusive questions or implied statements, especially with everyone there to listen in.

You took the stairs instead of the elevator, not trusting the old rust bucket to run smooth enough with bowls of hot soup in front of you.

Dinner date.  You wanted to laugh.  Dabi certainly wasn’t the type to do dinner dates.  In fact, Dabi probably didn’t even date. He probably just hooked up with random girls whenever he felt like it.

Your stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.

It didn’t matter.  You weren’t his type anyway.  And he shouldn’t be yours, not with all of his baggage. And boy, did he seem to have a lot of baggage.  Besides, he didn’t need the pressure of someone pining over him while he struggled to keep himself together.  He needed someone he could trust.  He needed a friend.

You felt yourself start to calm as you centered yourself on that single fact.  He needed a friend. You could do that.  You’d already committed yourself to it.

You made it to your own room and set the tray on the floor outside your door so you could go in and grab your medical bag.  If you were going to take soup to Dabi, then you might as well treat his wounds and give him his pills.  It was about time for it anyway.  With your bag slung onto your shoulder and the tray once again in your hand, you went over to his door and knocked.

It opened and you froze, eyes wide, as a warm humid air wrapped you up in the scent of shampoo and body wash.

Dabi stood before you in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination.  Shit. It hadn’t even been a full five seconds and you were already staring at his crotch.  Hot embarrassment flooded you as you averted your eyes, only to get stuck on his glistening, bare form.  You’d seen him shirtless many times, had your hands on his body, even… but something about this moment was different.  Maybe it was the shower.  Maybe it was the simple - yet absolutely sinful - sweatpants.  Or maybe it was how he seemed to be carrying himself in this moment, like he was the king of his domain.  He was a living art piece, every angle of him stunning from the slope of his shoulders to the cut of his lean waist. Even his stitches looked beautiful, the light bouncing off of them like gems.  Whatever it was, Dabi seemed to be a thousand times hotter than you remember him being, and it left your brain feeling dumb as hot desire washed over you.

You were staring.  You knew you were staring but you couldn’t break the trance he seemed to put you in. Your eyes took in the cut of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips.   Aqua blue eyes stared at you in knowing amusement, grabbing you like the tide and pulling you in.  You could feel yourself floundering beneath his intense gaze as you struggled to get a hold of yourself.

“Uh…” you stuttered.

You were still staring.

“Hey, Doll­…” He greeted, a playful grin on his lips.  His voice washed over you, and you felt lightheaded.

This was so embarrassing.  If he had any doubts that you found him attractive before, then he certainly didn’t now.

“Hi.” You said dumbly.

His eyes broke contact with yours to look down.  “Hey-” His hand shot out to quickly grab the tilting tray, soup splashing messily over the sides of the bowls.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” You cursed, as you adjusted your hold. You kept your eyes down, unable to stare at him any longer.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” 

Was that a chuckle you heard in his voice?  How dare he.

You crossed the threshold, only to find yourself even more smothered by the clean scent of his recent shower that permeated the entire space like a fog.  Beneath it, the faint hint of cigarette smoke was present, but it was muted.  The light in the room was dimmer than you remembered and you realized why – he had put one of his shirts over his shoddy lamp, reducing its brightness.  The humid warmth in the room was paired with a strange heavy silence.  Your eyes instantly checked his window and there was no billow of the curtains this time, no street noise coming forth.  Your breath froze in your throat for a moment as you realized – he remembered.  All the things that had bothered you this morning were modified for your arrival.  A weightlessness swelled in your chest, intertwining with the attraction you were still grappling with.  You set the tray down with shaky hands before wiping your sweaty palms onto your pants.

Dabi came to stand next to you with his towel on his shoulder, the warm bare skin of his chest brushing against your arm as he stared down at the bowls.  With his proximity so close and your own emotions running amok, it took every ounce of mental fortitude not to hug him right then and there.

“Did you make that?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh, uh.. Toga did.” You finally said, as you moved slightly away from his bare skin.

“We should have let the tray fall.”  He stated as he stared at the contents with distaste.  You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, and it helped clear some of the brain fog.  He gave you a soft glare.  “Why did you even take this?  You should have just said no.”

“Well, not all of us can be as nice as you, Dabi.” You teased.  “Besides, she wanted to do something nice for us because she thinks we’re sick.”  You explained.

“If I eat that I probably will be.” He retorted.

“Oh, come on… it’s probably not that bad… just a little smokiness to it.  That shouldn’t bother you, right?” You put a spoon into a bowl and handed it to him.

He gave you a deadpan look as you held the bowl against his chest, his hands refusing to take it. “I’m not eating it.”

“Hey, if I have to eat this, then so do you.” You glared.

“Like hell.” He replied. “Besides, I already have food here.”

You set the bowl down and stared at the bags on his desk.  “Yes, chips, beef jerky, and cigarettes!  So healthy.”

“The three basic food groups.” He agreed with a grin. He sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread wide as he slouched back.  It took extra effort to not let your eyes wander.  “Tell ya what, doll… you try it first.  If you don’t throw up or die, then maybe I’ll consider eating mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your bowl.  “Fine, you big baby.” 

You filled your spoon and raised it to him in a mock toast before placing it into your mouth.  He watched the motion in silent amusement, his eyes focused on your lips as they closed around the spoon.

It was awful.  Definitely burnt.  And the parts that weren’t burnt were overcooked, making the textures all wrong in your mouth.  You swallowed forcefully, suppressing a gag.

“Mmm… You look like you enjoyed that.”  Dabi teased.

“Hey at least I’ve actually tried it.” You shot back.  “So, I guess that means only one of us is a little bitch.” 

Dabi’s eyes widened, the light in them dancing in amusement, as a grin spread across his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, doll?  You’ve been with the League too long.”

You pointed your spoon at him.  “Don’t try to act like you know me.  And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead.  So eat up.”  You picked up his bowl again and held it under his nose. By this point, you knew the soup wasn’t really that edible, but now you were determined to have him suffer with you.

The smell wafted up and he wrinkled his nose.  He pushed the bowl away back towards you.  “I don’t think so.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “You said you’d try it if I did.”

“I said I’d consider it.”  He replied. “It’s been considered and denied.”

“You’re an ass.” You pouted. “It really is awful though…” you confessed.  “and she had Kurogiri with her, too.  Like… how?”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” Dabi replied.

You laughed.  “That’s what I told Compress!”

Your conversation was interrupted by a loud, hungry rumble in your gut.

A low chuckle rumbled from Dabi’s chest that made your heart pound and your flesh feel warm.  “C’mon doll, don’t torture yourself.” He said. “Why don’t we just go get a bite to eat. There’s nothing keeping us locked up in here.”

Toga’s words echoed in your head.  Dinner date.  Oh geez, if she or Magne saw you two leaving the premises together, you’d never hear the end of it.  The offer was tempting though, and you were pretty sure Dabi was starting to get tired of his snacks.  Junk food could only satisfy for so long; at some point he needed a proper meal.

But something nagged at you as you stared at the man in front of you.  He seemed to be doing okay at first glance… his recent shower certainly seemed to lift his spirits.  But you had been too distracted by his attractiveness earlier that you hadn’t taken the time to really assess him.  Now, you could see the exhaustion still in his face, could see the small wiggle of his leg and the drumming of his fingers on the table.   You checked the time on your phone – no doubt your quirk and the pills were beginning to wear off.  But how far along that was, you couldn’t really say; it was hard to tell with Dabi; he didn’t show his pain very easily.

You knew your appetite would disappear once you pushed yourself into sensory overload.  But Dabi couldn’t wait, even if he might try to play it off that he could.  More importantly, you didn’t want to try to deal with a withdrawal-suffering Dabi out in public. Your heart sank slightly. Goodbye delicious dinner, for the second time that night.

“…I should probably treat you first.” Your eyes landed on his bag of goods as your stomach rumbled again. “But maybe a snack would be good.” You confessed.  You felt embarrassed for asking, especially after the big show you’d just point on… but pride had to take a back seat before your stomach ate itself.

His blue eyes stared at you for a long moment.  You could feel your skin start to prickle under the weight of them.

“Sure, doll.”  He finally said.  He rummaged through one of the bags until he found what he was looking for under a bag of spicy chips.  “Is this your style?”

He tossed you a prepackaged muffin about the size of a softball.  You couldn’t fight the smile that blossomed across your face.  “Yeah, thanks.”  You opened up the wrapping and began breaking off pieces of it.  “You want some?” you offered, holding the muffin towards him.

He shook his head. “Nah.  Don’t feel much like eating.”

You broke off half of the muffin for him anyway.  “I still need to give you your pills, so you should eat something first.  Besides, this is too big for me to finish by myself anyway.” 

Was it a lie?  Of course. You were starving.  Did Dabi know that you were lying?  Of course.  But he took the other half of the muffin anyway.  You sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his chair as the two of you ate together in silence for a moment. As you ate, your eyes wandered around his room.

That was when you noticed it.

 “Are those my towels?” you asked. 

Dabi looked over at his dresser as he stuffed the last of the muffin into his mouth.  “Yeah.  They’re clean now.”

“Thank you…” you replied. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details.  “You cleaned up…”

Dabi shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete slob.”

You stared at him as he began fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, tapping the box on the table, flipping it over, and tapping the other end.  Over and over it somersaulted, and you wondered if he was craving one right now.  Why didn’t he just take one out and light it up?

Was Dabi… being considerate?

Then again, the action didn’t come as much of a surprise to you as it might have before.  He’d been more willing to do small acts of kindness ever since the night of his withdrawal.  Bringing ramen.  Adjusting his room for your sensory overload.

Now this.

Was it fueled by guilt? Or did he actually care?

He looked like he was waiting for something.  You watched as he rubbed at his scarred arm with his free hand, irritation flashing across his eyes.  Of course. He was waiting for you and your quirk. You ate your muffin faster.  As soon as it had disappeared into your mouth, you reached for your bag and took out the pill bottle.  His eyes were on it instantly, the shaking in his leg stilled by the sight of it, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

“Here.” You offered, handing him his pills.  He took them and swallowed them dry before opening up a beverage and taking a swig.

Dabi eyed the bottle in your hand as you closed it.  “That’s looking awfully low there, isn’t it?”

You put the container back in your bag, enclosing it in a zippered space.  “It’ll be enough to last us through tomorrow morning.”

“That’s cutting it real close, don’tcha think?” he replied.

You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern and offered him a reassuring smile.  “It is.  But I’ll be picking up the refills tomorrow before our evening session, so there’s nothing to worry about.  Now let’s take a look at your back real quick.”

He stood up and dragged his chair over to where you sat and straddled the seat with his back facing you. The bandage was still on, but you could tell it had gotten wet in the shower.  You’d have to be careful when changing it this time, since the bits of skin that were starting to heal might reopen.

You applied your quirk first around the bandages, then began to delicately remove the wet gauze and tape. Your fingers were cold on Dabi’s skin and a small shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of your touch.  The wound didn’t show any signs of infection or fresh damage, so you continued business as usual, applying the antiseptic followed by fresh gauze.  As you patched him up, your eyes kept drifting to your towels, thinking about what had happened that night.  There was something important you’d been meaning to ask him.  Something you had to know.

“I… have a question.” You ventured.

“Hm?” Dabi responded, his head turning slightly to the sound of your voice.

“The next day… after I helped you out that one night… was there anything… off?  About you specifically?” you asked.

There was a long pause and you could tell Dabi was thinking heavily, which only made the dread in your gut sink in deeper.

“I couldn’t feel anything.” He finally admitted. 

“I’m not talking about the pain.  I’m talking about… I don’t know.  Anything else.”

“I know.” He replied. “When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything.”

Your brow furrowed and the dread hardened into a stone.  “…what does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t care about a thing, doll.  Everything was turned off.” He was facing away from you and in that moment, you wished he wasn’t – you desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.  Your hands felt clammy as you processed his words.

“You mean your emotions?” you clarified.  You needed to understand more.  You needed to know how bad it was.  “What… did it feel like?”

“Empty.”

You finished putting the last bandage on him but you barely noticed as your vision became unfocused, your thoughts whirling.  Holy shit. You had turned off his emotions?  You supposed in hindsight it made sense, since it was likely his memories and the emotions attached to them that were torturing him that night.  Why else would he have been blabbering incoherent apologies as if he were desperately trying to atone for something? But still… the severity of that made your blood run cold. Emotions were everything, contrary to what some people might think. They fuel how people think, how they act, how they react… entire personalities – entire identities are built around how emotions are felt and how they are dealt with.  You very well could have entirely erased Dabi as a person. In fact, you likely did, at least temporarily.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and tried to calm your panicked breathing.  “…How long did it last?”

He was quiet again, and the silence was worse than anything.

“Please tell me.” You begged.  “How long?”

“Hours.”

Your heart was racing and your ears ringing.  Your eyes began to sting but you fought it, focusing on a patch of scarred flesh on his back to distract yourself, memorizing its pattern.  You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again.  And certainly not twice in one day.  You wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but you couldn’t make the words come out, not without your emotions spilling out with them.  Instead, you forced yourself into action, treating his scars with your quirk. 

There was so much more you wanted to know. How did he get his emotions back?  What did it feel like? Was it slow, or at all at once? Did he feel relieved?

Did it hurt?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask those questions, no matter how badly you wanted to know, no matter how badly you wanted to understand.  They were too personal, and you could already tell by Dabi’s growing reluctance that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

You’d apologize to him. At some point, once your emotions were under control, you’d apologize.

You finished numbing his back and shoulders, even tracing down his triceps a little.  “Turn around,” you instructed.

He did as you asked, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you.  You avoided looking at him, the shame and guilt far too heavy for you to lift your eyes.  Unbeknownst to you, a frown pulled at his brow, his lips.  You wore your emotions so plainly…

You took his hand in yours and continued your quirk as your skin began to prickle and sting. The sound of the shower dripping in the bathroom was louder now. Dabi shifted slightly in his chair and the scraping sound against the floor was like nails on a chalkboard.  The odors in the room went from pleasant to offensive.

“I gotta question for ya,” Dabi suddenly ventured.  “Did you change my clothes that night?”

Your hands faltered and you glanced up at his face before you could catch yourself.  His eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite place in your distracted mental state.  You felt embarrassment creep across your skin.

“I did.  I had to get you into the shower before you combusted.” You replied as you continued to treat him, your hands on his collarbone. The feel of it was so familiar now…

“I was naked?”

“Only for a moment!” you replied.  “You were in your boxers for most of it, but I had to change you out of those after the shower.” God, this entire conversation was so embarrassing… why did he have to ask about this of all things?

“…did ya peek?” he asked.

Your mouth struggled like a fish out of water for a moment as you glared at him.  “NO!” You finally exclaimed.  “Of course, I didn’t!  Why would you even…”  but then you saw the grin on his face and you realized he was teasing you. 

You playfully punched his arm.  “You’re an asshole.” You fumed.

He laughed.  “That didn’t even hurt.” He mocked.

“Of course it didn’t, idiot. I already used my quirk there.” You shot back.  “Now stay still so I can get your damn face.”

“So feisty…” he murmured.

Shit.  With your senses heightened, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice, as if he were closer to you than he actually was. For the briefest moment, it distracted you from the growing pain of your scar, from the sound of the drip drip from the bathroom shower.  You wondered what it would feel like to have those words uttered against your skin, his hot breath warming your flesh, the feel of his rough lower lip brushing…

You clenched your jaw until you nearly gave yourself a headache, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of your mind.  You weren’t here for this.  You were here to treat him and get out of his space.  You weren’t his type.  You repeated it to yourself like a mantra, a prayer, a reminder to the illogical part of you that wanted to follow the lure of his voice.  Why did he have to be such a flirt?  It didn’t surprise you, but it certainly left you feeling confused when his actions and words sometimes contradicted themselves.

All it meant was that he was getting comfortable with you again. He was treating you like a friend, and friends teased all the time.  Right?

His eyes watched you closely as your hands caressed his jaw, relieving the ache there.  You seemed lost in your thoughts and while you certainly didn’t look comfortable, you also didn’t look too be too horribly in pain. You were doing better today.  Still, your fingers danced quickly across his skin, skating under his eyes which he instinctively closed, and barely touching his lower lip.  It happened far too quickly before the presence of you disappeared, and it left him feeling empty.  How badly he wanted to grab your hands right then and put them back onto his face. 

When he opened his eyes again, your own eyes were downcast as you stretched your fingers slightly.

“You okay?” he ventured. The question sounded odd coming from him, even to his own ears.

You looked up at him then, and you could see he was concerned. That’s right… he knew about your quirk and your scar now.  You clasped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.  Shaking from the pain you were feeling, shaking from the fear of your own thoughts and desires.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Did he know you were lying with this too?

He knew.  In fact, you’d given him the same false words he always gave you.  It was like looking into a mirror.

“You don’t gotta do the legs.” He offered.  “I’m not dressed for it anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You chided.  “Of course I’m going to do your legs.  The better I treat you, the better you can rest.  And your body needs rest to heal your burn.”

He noticed that you made no comment on his withdrawal, which a part of him appreciated; it helped him avoid the discomfort of shame that was always associated with it. Still…

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, doll.  I won’t be needing them.  Besides, the drugs help.” He replied.

You eyed him for a moment, assessing.  “How about I just do your calves then?” you bartered.

He assessed you in return before he gave a small half-smirk.  “Deal.”

By the time you’d treated his calves down to the tops of his feet, you were definitely grateful you didn’t have to do any more.

PING……..PING……

You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache as you skirted just shy of overload. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe the lack of visual stimulation might make the auditory more bearable.  Or at least bearable enough that you could actually move your body instead of feeling frozen.  But it only made it worse, allowing your brain to hyperfixate on it. You covered your ears against it as you struggled to find your way out of it, to regain control of yourself.

While you lost yourself in your senses, Dabi watched you in displeasure.  He’d made sure to have everything ready before you showed up.  He even made sure not to light up a cigarette, as much as that had grated on him, since he knew the smell would linger long after. But clearly, something was bothering you.  What had he missed?

He watched, waiting, giving you time to figure yourself out or ask for help while he secretly tried to decode the mystery.  Your eyes were closed, your hands over your ears.  Was it multiple sensory attacks?  You flinched again.  And again. There was a rhythm.  So, it was something you were hearing.

Curiously, Dabi closed his own eyes listening for anything that stood out.  Slowly, the quiet sound of water dripping greeted his ears like a whisper.  He opened his eyes just in time to see your flinch match with the sound.

That was it.

“It’s the shower.” He commented. 

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement.  You opened your eyes and looked at him with surprise before giving a nod, your hands still over your ears.  He knew his shower leaked for a bit after he used it, but he’d gotten so used to it that he just tuned out the sound by this point.  But for you… especially after using your quirk on him…

Why didn’t you just get up and leave?  Why stay here if it was bothering you this much?  Obviously, you wanted to get away from it…

Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe, for some reason, you were stuck in what you were experiencing, unable to find your way out.

Dabi could relate to that.

And he didn’t like it.

He stood up and closed the bathroom door before returning to sit in the chair in front of you, waiting.

You could still hear it. But it was manageable now, muffled. Quieter.  You could feel yourself start to process the rest of what you were feeling.  The pain on your back; the feel of your clothes, your hair; the smell of Dabi’s body wash, fresh linen… cigarettes.  Slowly, your hands lowered from your ears as you focused on each sense, identifying all you recognized.  The world was still loud around you, but at least you could somewhat function again. Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him watching you through an unreadable expression.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.” You replied. “Thank you.  Again.”

“It’s fine.”

A heavy, awkward quiet filled the space, and in that moment, despite Dabi’s kindness, all you wanted was to be back safely in your room.  Maybe it was because you were feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions, unable to properly control how your heart pounded around him, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, his expression unreadable yet his gaze intense, as if you were all that he was focused on and he was determined to discover all of your secrets.

Either way, you felt an ache grow within you, threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t dismantle it or bury it, not while your brain fought the senses overwhelming you. You could handle one or the other… but you couldn’t handle both.

You needed the comfort of your room; you needed your safe space.

“I’m… going to go lay down.” You said quietly, as you grabbed your bag.  It felt heavy in your hand.

If Dabi noticed the shift in your mood, he didn’t say so.  Instead, he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah.  Me too.” He replied.

Despite the suddenly aloof atmosphere, he still walked you to his door.  After you left, he leaned his back against the cold wood and ran his hand down his face.

So much for not caring…

________________________________________________

Part 10 ________________________________________________

Taglist (always open!): @lemonfvck​​ @vs-redemption​ @inanabsentia​​ @sheedaabee​​ @toshiuwuu​​ @marydragneell​​ @chillinwithmybakubros​​ @genuinelytodorokisbitch @sam-i-am-1025​ @redflannel @axerrri​​ @necccomancy​​ @miadraws0​ @hot-pocket01​ @hopelessdisasterr @dummythiccwitch​​ @villainsdeku @aquzairus​​ @officialtrashbusiness​​ @hemdem018​​ @purplesweethart​​ @doebopeepeebbod @ghost-of-todoroki​​ @marvel-philosophy @lysawayne​​ @udontneedtokno​​ @citrussaurus​​ @littleladdty​​ @starsforannie​​ @zunmie​​ @mae-rd​​ @mrsreina​​ @ohh-takuuu​​ @ih8beefnoodles​ @kellyyween​​ @jojoniles​​ @steale24​  @peach-tea-0  @orenjineki​​ @diobrandoatemykids  @minionsexuall @liitlesushi​​ @jojoniles​​ @bilalbambi  @tinitimesims125 @emmappelle​​ @babayaga67​​ @off-brand-overhaul @levenin​​ @exxzy​ @wootato​​

Special Note: your tag may not work if you’ve changed your tumblr username or if you have your account set to private.

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x you #touch #dabi touch #soft dabi #pining #slow burn #TW: blood #TW: needles #TW: killing #TW: violence

[ningningsplushie]

The Cute Barista

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word count: 2263

Genre: Pastel cafe?? Jimin being a comforting person :3

Summary: Your favourite barista has moved away and in her place is the ever charming Park Jimin. Can he comfort you just the same?

Warnings: Cringey pick up line (rip but it fit well with the story), stressed and upset reader

After a long day, a trip to the cafe was exactly what she needed. Classes were kicking her ass, what with essays, assignments, and presentations piling up on the daily, not to mention her trying to keep up with work and her own personal life. A calming sit-down, with a nice book, along with her favourite barista, Hwa Young, would surely cheer her up. 

Opening the door to the cafe, the smell of brownies and buttercream frosting immediately wafts up her nose. The overall atmosphere of the place, with its pastel pinks walls and baby blue trimming, its bubbly aura due to the dainty display of desserts, large windows, and sweet jazz music instantly calms Y/N after a hectic day. 

Walking up to the cash register, she realizes that Hwa Young isn’t at her usual station, neither is she wiping down the tables or serving customers. 

She spots a blond boy standing in place of her favourite barista and decides to ask for her whereabouts. “Excuse me, I was wondering where Hwa Young was?”

The boy looks up from the till and gives her a warming grin, cheeks almost covering his eyes. My, he’s really handsome. Handsome, however, was an understatement. His face had an innocent, boyish charm to it, with large, honest eyes, plump lips with a subtle cupid’s bow, and a soft jaw. 

“I suppose you’re in the dark about her.” Hearing this, Y/N grows worried and the boy sees this. “Oh don’t worry,” he scrambles, panicking for frightening her, “she just moved to Japan for university. She left just last week.” 

She left? Crestfallen, Y/N looks to the ground. Damn, I was really looking forward to seeing her. “Really? It’s just...she has a really comforting aura and it was something I needed right now. I suppose I won’t be getting that ever again, if not ever again.” 

Y/N realizes her mistake of oversharing and clasps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. The last thing you need right now is for a stranger telling you her problem.” 

The new barista chuckles, “It’s alright, my sister was a big help to a lot of people so I understand.”

“Yeah, she- wait. Sister? She was your sister?” Y/N squeaks out.

“Is, not was. She’s still here with us, just far away. But yeah, after she left I decided to take her place here to help our mom run the cafe.” 

“That’s sweet of you…” finding no reason to stay any longer she decides to leave, picking up her wallet from the counter. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, but uhhh, thank you for telling me about your sister. Have a nice day-” she reads the boy’s name tag. “Jimin. I’ll be going now.”

Just as she’s about to turn, Y/N feels a grip on her wrist, disabling her from leaving. Jimin looks at his hold on Y/N and quickly lets go. 

“Listen, I know you’re not exactly in the best of moods right now and I know I’m not my sister but please, stay and give yourself a rest.”

She considers his comment for a moment before turning back to him and offering a tight-lipped smile. 

“Alright. I’ll have a medium honey latte, please,” she says, offering Jimin money for her order. 

Taking the money from her, he gives a mock salute, chest puffing out. “Coming right up, Miss.” 

Y/N can’t help but giggle at his gesture, hands going up to cover her smile.

“Yeahhhh! That’s what we like to hear. My goodness, if I knew your smile was this bright, I never would have bothered to change the light bulbs in the chandeliers.” Jimin puts his arms out as if protecting himself from a bright flash and at this, Y/N laughs some more. Giving the barista some more material, he pretends to swoon, resting the back of his on his forehead. “Wow, wow, wow. I might as well just shut off our radio too. Your laugh sounds much nicer.”

Y/N blushes, earning a “cute,” from Jimin but then composes herself. “Call me Y/N, please.”

Nodding, he begins tinkering with the espresso machine. “Y/N, I might not be as comforting as my sister but I’m certainly more charming and cuter than her, aren’t I?” throwing a wink to the girl. 

Y/N rolls her eyes and replies, “You guys share half of the same DNA.”

“That’s true but my DNA gave me the upper hand in looks.” Y/N couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, how they formed when he smiles, or the position they were in whenever he pouted whilst concentrating. 

“Alright, one medium honey latte for Y/N,” he whoops, placing the porcelain cup before her. 

“Thank you so much.” Taking a sip from her drink, she closes her eyes in pure bliss, the warmth of the latte spreading throughout her body. 

“How is it? Is it too sweet? I think I might have put too much sweetener in it so-”

“It’s perfect,” Y/N sighs, opening her eyes once more. 

He gives a proud smile and pats his head. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll leave you alone now, let you decompress for a while.”

“Thank you for everything… for being so patient and kind. I appreciate it,” Y/N says, gazing out the window. 

“A little kindness never anybody. I just hope I made your day somewhat better.”

“You definitely did.”

 And with that, Jimin leaves the girl alone, moving on to his own barista duties of washing the dishes, clearing tables, and taking the orders of a few people who wanted a kick of caffeine. It was close to the evening which meant that the cafe was nearly empty, something Y/N found most agreeable as it allowed her to enjoy the soft music playing through the speakers while enjoying her recent read. For about thirty minutes or so, Y/N was enjoying her novel whilst sipping occasionally on her latte, and at that moment, she was finally at peace. Here, she was able to temporarily forget about school, work, and her general stresses in life. All that mattered was her tranquility, the porcelain cup sitting ahead of her, and the cast of characters splayed out in her book. Y/N realizes that her brow had loosened, curing her blistering headache ever since she stepped foot into the shop, especially since she talked to Jimin. 

Leaving all her worries aside, Y/N gazes out the window and ponders. Everything is so beautiful right now, what with the snow gently falling and families walking hand in hand, she thought. It’s a shame I can’t fully enjoy life with all my stress plaguing my thoughts. I should just enjoy it while it lasts. 

It didn’t last long, that is, only because Jimin came over with a fresh piece of what appeared to be strawberry shortcake. He places the plate in front of Y/N and leaves with a simple, “Bon appetit.”

“Hey wait! I didn’t order this.” she rushes to her feet to return the cake. 

Jimin comes back, pushing Y/N by her shoulders so she’d sit back down. “I know you didn’t. But you can’t drink something on an empty stomach,” he urges, nudging the cake towards her and turning back around once again. 

With her mouth shaped into an O’, she reaches for her wallet to pay for the dessert but before she can do so, Jimin, with his back towards Y/N, protests, “don’t even think of paying for the cake. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat this without paying. Besides, won’t you get in trouble?” 

“You can, and you will,” he affirms, now facing Y/N, slinging the rag over his shoulder, adding with, “plus, what’s the worst my mom can do? Not feed me Jjajangmyeon for two weeks? I can survive.”

Warily, Y/N begins to stab the fork into the cake before venturing with a meek, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he declares, giving her a warm smile that makes her want to eat the cake all the more, wanting to see his smile once more. “Also, I uhhhh,” Jimin stammers, “I wanted to give it to you cuz uhhh...it m-matches your sweater vest,” he declares, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment from his statement. 

Confused, Y/N looks down at herself. As per usual, she was in a rush to attend her first lecture of the day and just threw on the first thing her eyes met, which was a pink, strawberry printed sweater vest over a white button-up. Wait. He just gave me a slice of cake because it matched my vest. How much cuter can this guy get? With a blush creeping up her face, she shoved a piece of the cake in her mouth, and in an instant, her tense shoulders dropped, like a weight lifted off of them. The sweetness and acidity of the strawberries coated her tongue but was soon covered by the velvety taste of the buttercream frosting. 

“Wow Jimin, this is...absolutely delicious.” 

He hums, “I’m glad you think so. I’ll be sure to tell my mom.” 

“Yeah, you def- wait. Your mom?” Y/N interjects, mouth full of cake.

Jimin takes a napkin from the dispenser and wipes the frosting from the corner of her mouth and asks, “Did you really think I was the one who made the cake? You overestimate me, my dear friend,” he leans in closer to Y/N, lips frighteningly close to her ear and whispers, “I appreciate the sentiment though.” He pulls back and winks at her, hair falling over his eyes. “I just thought it befitting to feed you something as sweet as yourself.” 

Shocked at his boldness, Y/N goes back to eating her cake, not quite sure how to respond to him, especially since she was turning redder and redder by the second and it feels like her tongue had been swallowed. 

“Cute,” Jimin chuckles, going back to washing the dishes. 

By the time Y/N finished eating, the sun had set and it was closing time, leaving only Jimin and Y/N to be the only two in the shop. She looked at the time and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Oh god, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow.” 

Y/N scrambles to gather her items in her bag, her book, her phone, her wallet and is about to zoom out the door before she hears Jimin calling her name. 

“Y/N hold up! You forgot something.” Bewildered, lets go of her hold on the door handle, and looks to the boy. 

“Come here,” he beckons for Y/N to come closer. 

Walking closer to the counter, Y/N has her hand reached out for him to place whatever it is she left behind. Jimin, placing something unbelievably small in her palm, smiles bright, cheeks overcoming his eyes. She looks down and sees a single Hershey’s chocolate kiss. Y/N looks back to Jimin for an explanation and what he says next throws her off completely.

“Hershey factories make millions of kisses a day, but I’m asking for only one...perhaps after our first date?” 

Y/N is silent for a few beats as she registers his cheesy pickup line. Jimin, panicking, quickly regrets his words and goes to take back the kiss but is stopped when Y/N doubles over, shoulders shaking. 

Concerned, the barista walks around the counter and puts his arms around Y/N, scared that he triggered what he thought were waterworks. “Y/N...I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” But then he hears laughter, belly-aching laughter, one that Jimin wants to hear all the time. 

For a good minute, Y/N is hunched over, cackling while Jimin lets out small giggles but then ceases her laughter, wiping her tears away, and looks towards Jimin. “Wow, thank you for making me laugh like that. I haven’t done that for so long.”

Jimin frowns, “I’m happy I made you laugh but are you laughing at me or with me?”

“With you, I’d never laugh at you, especially since you made me feel so much better today,” Y/N replies. 

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “So about that date...would you like to go out with me? I know it’s weird since we just met today but I heard a lot about you from Hwa Young and-and I always wanted to see what you were like. Our paths crossed and I didn’t want to give this moment up.”

Y/N considered how much of an impact he had on her in just one day and thought what it would be like being with him every day. She knew she’d feel tremendously better. As of now, she’s felt more comfortable than she had for a long while. Being around him reminded her of all the beautiful things she’s failed to notice and allowed her to feel like herself once more. If being around him felt like this, she never wanted it to end. His presence comforted Y/N and made her feel right at home. She definitely wasn’t going to turn him down. 

“I’d love nothing more than to go out with you. But you better not break that promise of a kiss.”

Brushing a small strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, he replies with, “Oh, I promise.”

#park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #bts #bts jimin #bts au #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin au #bts scenarios #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.11|Brittana

A/N - The 10 month work drought is finally over! A little bittersweet since I won’t have as much time to write as I once did so make sure you have notifications on for this story on whichever site you use so you don’t miss an update whenever it comes next. Thanks for your patience ❤

PS - Have you seen the amazing artwork that accompanies this fic made by @haru-snixx ? No? Check it out here! It’s VERY cool. 

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut

Santana’s jaw drops when she sees those two players tackle Brittany to the turf. The crunch of bodies colliding is engrained in her memory and pulls an audible gasp deep from within the brunette. Santana knows that Brittany wears all sorts of padding and protection under her uniform but when she sees the quarterback motionless on the ground, her heart plummets.

The next thing Santana knows, she throws down her pompoms and runs for her life out onto the field.

Santana can faintly hear Quinn calling after her but it doesn’t slow her down one bit. She has heard stories about concussed players and broken ribs and punctured lungs and whatever else could go wrong on the field. She can’t just stand on the sidelines and watch this happen in front of her eyes; she has to get to Brittany, she has to make sure she’s okay for herself.

She’s bound to be breaking some kind of rule, but she doesn’t give a shit about that – not when Brittany’s just lying there.

There’s already a crowd of players gathering around the quarterback and Santana pushes past Puck and Karofsky before sinking down to her knees next to Brittany’s head. The blonde’s eyes are closed and there’s this pained expression on her face. Santana is so used to seeing Brittany as this invincible, gorgeous girl that it breaks her heart even further to see Brittany hurting like this.

She leans over the quarterback, trying to blink away the tears starting to well in her eyes.

“Brittany,” Santana urges, awaiting some kind of movement, “Are you okay?”

Santana can feel someone trying to pull her away but she blindly pushes them off of her.

“Santana, let the Trainer look her over.”

The voice belongs to Quinn, but Santana’s not moving until she sees the blues of Brittany’s eyes again, even if that means one of these assholes has to throw her tiny body over their shoulder and haul her away.

She’s not moving until Brittany does too.

The Trainer crouches down on the opposite side and Santana eyes him up and down.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Santana questions bitterly.

The Trainer looks surprised by the question, “This isn’t my first rodeo, kid.”

“That doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing,” Santana bristles.

“Santana,” Quinn chastises with another tug on the brunette’s arm, “Let him do his job.”  

“What?” Santana huffs, “Who knows what kind of medical experience he has? He could be a drop out for all we know!”

The Trainer scowls at her, “I’m right here.”

“And?”

The Trainer shakes his head and continues his examination.

The longer Brittany keeps her eyes squeezed shut, the more worried Santana becomes.

She thinks about every moment, every word she has said to Brittany over the past couple of days, and she doesn’t want them to be the last Brittany hears. She doesn’t know if she’s being dramatic here or what, but in this moment it feels like her whole world is falling apart.

“Britt,” Santana begs, her voice cracking as she does, “Come on.”

This time, Brittany’s slow to blink but her eyes open nonetheless. She looks to the Trainer before she settles on Santana. There’s a surprised and confused look on her face before it turns into a sly smile.

“Did you just call me Britt?”

Santana’s lips part for the right thing to say but she fails to find the words. She’s just relieved that Brittany’s eyes are open and she’s talking. The Trainer takes over and Santana pushes to stand before she rounds on the players that surround them.

“She forgot her name!” Santana yells at them, “She forgot her goddamn name!”

“Wait, what?” Finn looks from Santana to the Trainer, “That can’t be true.”

The Trainer glares at Santana, “It’s not.”

The Titans look a mix of confused and worried and scared while Santana continues to fume.

“You have to get off the field,” The Ref says. Coach Beiste isn’t too far behind either.  

“I’m not leaving until I know she’s okay!”

Azimio shakes his head at Santana, “This is exactly why girls shouldn’t be playing this kind of sport. They ain’t strong enough, ain’t as athletic for a game like this!”

“Shut the hell up!” Santana growls, “You sound as stupid as you look.”

Azimio looks at her like she has lost her mind.

“Santana, we need to get back to the sidelines,” Quinn tries, “We shouldn’t be out here.”

Santana doesn’t budge as she looks to every Titan surrounding them, “Which one of you imbeciles was meant to guard her?!”

No one makes a sound; the players just shift side to side and look around at each other.

Karofsky seems the guiltiest, “Shouldn’t be playing if she can’t take a hit.”

Santana looks shocked by his comment as she pushes Quinn’s hands off of her. Despite being the smallest on the field, Santana steps up to Karofsky like she’s ten feet tall.

“You shouldn’t be playing if you can’t do your goddamn job.”

Karofsky waves her off, “How about you just head on back to where you came from and keep waving those pom – “

It surprises everyone when Santana lunges at him fist first.

She’s not sure where she’s aiming because the guy still has his helmet on but she doesn’t care at this point. She’s so angry by the lack of concern for Brittany that all she sees is red. If you’re running your mouth to her right now, you’re going to get punched.

“Get off the field!” The Ref orders.

“What about him?” Santana challenges while Quinn holds her back, “He should be thrown out or cancelled or whatever you call it!”

“Ejected?” Sam offers.

“Whatever!” Santana yells, “He did this to her! Throw one of your little yellow flags at him, I don’t give a shit. He’s the one that needs to go!”

“Santana, stop!” Quinn tries harder.

“Get off me, Fabray! I’m going to end him! He had one fucking job: protect her! He couldn’t even do that so now I’m going to go ALL LIMA HEIGHTS on his sorry ass!”

Everyone starts to get restless the angrier Santana becomes. Mike and Sam try to help Quinn with wrangling Santana while Puck’s looking curiously at Karofsky. He starts to see Santana’s point and steps up to him.

“You let that Linebacker get the jump on you. Didn’t you?” Puck accuses before looking to Azimio, “You both did!”

“Prove it,” Karofsky mocks while still avoiding Santana, “You can’t.”

“I was the only one blocking for her!” Puck argues, “I was the only one there! Where the hell were both of you?”

Karofsky brushes him off and glares at Santana, “Get the lesbo out of here so we can play some real football! I’ve over this!”

“That’s right!” Azimio adds, “Too many damn emotions out here.”

Quinn loosens her grip on Santana at that, “On second thought, I’ll help you.”

The pair of them go to tag team Karofsky and Azimio while Mike and Sam try to break it up. Puck’s going after Azimio with Quinn and Finn’s just looking back and forth trying to make sense of everything. Coach Beiste is trying to help break up the fighting while Coach Sue looks on at her Co-Captains with a satisfied smile on her face.

Everyone’s so wrapped up in the commotion that they don’t see Brittany sitting up with the help of the Trainer.

\\\\\

Brittany’s nodding to every question the Trainer asks about how she feels and other routine questions that could spot a possible concussion. In all honesty, it’s not the hardest she’s ever been hit but it has been awhile so she can see why she’s a little slow to recover.

Hearing Santana call out her name so many times really helped though.

“I’m good,” Brittany assures the Trainer, “Just a hard hit.”

The Trainer seems satisfied with Brittany’s responses so he helps her get back on her feet.

Brittany wiggles out the slight soreness but she feels good – she can keep playing, no need for a Concussion Protocol. What she doesn’t expect to see is Santana and Quinn trying to take on her Right and Left Guards. Actually, she doesn’t expect to see all the arguing going on between everyone.

Crawford County is just staring at them while the officials and coaches try to get everyone under control. It might be the rowdiest game this stadium has ever seen and that’s including the game against Carmel High where Puck was ejected for swinging at a player.  

Santana’s the feistiest one there and it doesn’t look like she’s backing down any time soon.

Brittany doesn’t understand why she’s here though – well, she does and she doesn’t. Santana was the one who said there were no feelings here; if that was really the case then what’s the explanation for this? Because despite everything she said that day in the locker room, Santana is once again showing the opposite of what she truly feels.

There’s no time to sit and overthink it though, there’s still a game Brittany needs to win.

She thanks the Trainer for checking on her before jogging over to the feuding players.

“We don’t discriminate based on gender!” Coach Beiste shouts as she pushes Karofsky back after something he said. Her face is beet red as she says, “What’s the matter with you?”

Brittany raises a brow at that but Karofsky isn’t her main focus, Santana is and the girl is still trying her hardest to fight through Mike in order to get to Azimio. Santana doesn’t falter in her advances until Brittany makes her presence known by standing in her way.

“Santana, stop,” Brittany tells her calmly with her hands on the Co-Captain’s waist. The touch seems to surprise Santana and she instantly relents enough that Brittany can guide her back even further.

The more distance Brittany can put between the team and Santana right now, the better.

Santana only stares blankly at Brittany like she has just seen a ghost.

“Should you be up?” She asks worriedly, “You need to sit out or something?”

“I’m fine,” Brittany assures her, “I need to finish the game.”

Santana laughs in disbelief, “Seriously? You were hit hard, Britt, I don’t think – “

“So I wasn’t hearing things.”

Santana frowns, “What?”

“You called me Britt.”

Santana softens and Brittany swears she sees a hint of a blush, “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Brittany starts to grin despite wanting to keep her expressions to herself, “Just the first time you’ve ever said it.”

Santana crosses her arms and her brows furrow as she says, “You shouldn’t play through an injury, you’ll only make it worse. I can call my dad and have you checked out by an actual doctor – not this guy who probably learned everything from episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.”

“I told you. I’m fine,” Brittany insists before she knocks on her side, “See? Rib protector; the pads took the brunt of the hit. I barely felt a thing.”

“Then why’d you look like you were in so much pain?”

“Reflex,” Brittany shrugs, “You try being hit by two Linebackers who weigh twice as much as I do. It’s not fun.”

Santana looks warily but nods in the end, “Just…be more careful, okay?”

Brittany quirks her brow at that; such a change in Santana’s tune compared to the other day. She really doesn’t sound like someone who isn’t capable of having feelings for someone else and she’s dying to know if Santana can see that too. Brittany doesn’t point it out though; not while they’re still on the field. Besides, she thinks it’s kind of nice how much Santana cares, whether she wants to admit it or not.

“I don’t know,” Brittany tries to joke instead, “Seeing you run out here trying to fight the whole team in my honor? Kind of cool.”

“I wasn’t trying to fi –"

“Alright Rocky, let’s go,” Coach Beiste interrupts as she and Quinn walk up, “We have a game to get back to.”

Santana looks at them and nods before turning back to Brittany, “Win this thing, Britt.”

Hearing Santana say her name gives Brittany another endorphins boost. She liked when Santana called her Pierce, it was their thing, but this hits differently. Brittany can’t help but think about what they could be if Santana would just give them a chance. She’ll take her little wins instead though because to have Santana checking on her like this, in front of everyone, and they’re sober? That’s big.

But, one thing at a time. It’s one play at a time, one touchdown, one win.

Brittany only winks before Coach Beiste starts to escort the Co-Captains off of the field.

\\

A few minutes later, the teams are brought back together to continue the game. There are no penalties for the interruption since Santana isn’t a Titan and they’re able to pick up where they left off.

After Brittany’s sack, the Titans are now on their fourth and final down.

That means it’s their last try to make something happen this drive before the ball is given back to Crawford County. They either play it safe and have the special teams come out to punt it away or go for it and at the very least get enough yardage for a new set of downs.

It’s a tough call because they’re about three yards away from a first down.

If the Titans can turn this into something, that’ll be amazing. If they can’t, it puts Crawford County in really great field position and with just six minutes left on the clock and the Titans only leading by 3 points, no one wants that.

There’s also the issue of Karofsky and Azimio and what the hell happened that last play. With how fast she was taken down, it really makes her wonder whether or not they let the defenders slip by on purpose. It all happened so fast though, it would be hard to tell. Still, if she can’t trust the guys meant to protect her then it really throws a wrench in the overall confidence she has in her teammates.

She can’t get hit like that again either, once was enough, but she needs to make a decision: go for it or play it safe?

“I can get three yards,” Puck says confidently as if he could sense the QB’s dilemma.

Azimio shakes his head and Puck shoves at him.

“I don’t need you to do it either,” Puck barks, “You and Karofsky might as well play for the other team!”

“What?” Karofsky looks to Puck and gasps, “I’m not gay.”

“I meant literally, dumbass.”

“Enough!” Brittany orders, “I’m over the arguing. Let’s just win the game first and deal with this later.”

The Running Back doesn’t waver though as he squares his shoulders off with Karofsky. He’s the one looking for a fight now, but Brittany can’t take any more interruptions.

“Puckerman!” Brittany urges, “Focus.”

“Alright,” Puck flinches at Karofsky and Azimio one last time before turning to Brittany.

“I know the perfect play,” The quarterback says, “We haven’t practiced it much but I don’t think they’ll expect it.”

“Okay,” Puck nods resolutely, “I’m down for whatever, Cap. Just give me the ball.”

\\

Brittany has Mike and Sam get into position on the far left side of the field and their defenders mirror them. Puck’s situated behind Brittany hoping to get a running start once he’s handed the ball.

Brittany gets up close to her Center and gets her hands ready for the snap.

“Down,” She calls out as she eyes the defense’s movement. She stomps her left foot and Matt comes rushing across from the right side, “Down…HUT!”

She grips the ball tightly as she spins around and hands the ball off to Puck who is already running to the left side of the field. The handoff is smooth and Puck’s able to bring the ball in to his chest, his arms blocking the defenders from punching it out to force a fumble.

All Brittany can do is hang back and watch the play unfold.

Puck continues to run fast and hard, bouncing off a defender, then slipping through the break in the defense that Mike and Sam are able to create – something that Karofsky and Azimio haven’t been able to do all night!

The receivers stay with Puck and offer some protection as he continues to up field, leaving Crawford County in his dust. The Titans only needed three yards for the first down and Puck’s just crossing over for five!

Brittany’s jumping up and down, pumping her fist, as she watches him haul ass. Mike gets tripped up as he throws his body in the way of a defender that nearly got his hands on Puck, so now it’s just Sam that’s chasing after him. Two Crawford County players are closing in on Puck but the endzone is just a few yards away now.

He could go all the way!

Suddenly, one of the defenders leaps forward and gets his arm around Puck’s waist and soon his heels are digging into the turf to slow him down. Puck keeps fighting though and he’s able to get an extra yard until Sam and the other defender collide into him.

“Hell yeah!” Brittany cheers as she runs up to meet the rest of her team. She jumps up in time to bump shoulders with Puck and when they land to the ground in time, she slaps him on the helmet, “Way to step up, Puck!”

Puck tosses the ball to the Ref before turning to Karofsky and Azimio with this smug grin on his face, “Told you I didn’t need you.”

“Quit it,” Brittany chastises although she’s also pretty proud that they were able to pull off that play without relying on her guards.

Now not only did they get the first down, they’re also just yards away from the endzone!

A great turn of events for the Titans, but she can’t let that get to their heads just yet. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve been able to get this far and not come away with a touchdown. They need to be more focused than ever – especially with the game clock still ticking away.

“Alright let’s keep the momentum going,” Brittany says in the quick huddle, “We made it this far, let’s have something to show for it. Okay? Titans on three. One…two…three!”

“Titans!”

\\

Brittany sets her mouthguard back in place before rubbing the towel that dangles from her waistband between her bare fingers to wick away the sweat. Her heart races in anticipation for being this close to the endzone but she inhales deeply to try and slow it down. It’s important that she remains cool and composed because stress on the field right now is like blood in the water and Crawford County are the sharks.

This next play was meant to be a simple run up the guts by Puckerman but Brittany reads the defense’s formation like an open book. They’re going to blitz – not good. Defenders are going to rush at them from all angles at full speed to flush out any possible run game, so Brittany has to opt for Plan B: a slant route.

“Alert! Alert!” The quarterback yells down the line in both directions to warn the team that she’s going with Plan B. From the corner of her eye, she sees #89 creep towards the gap in her O-Line and quickly points it out, “Watch #89!”

Matt adjusts his position so that he can block the defender before Brittany’s calling for the snap.

The ball is hiked and Brittany secures it in her hands. Within seconds, she quickly fires it at Mike, but his defender is able to bat it down before the receiver can bring it in for a catch. Mike looks to the turf and shakes his head as he jogs back to the line of scrimmage.  

Brittany brushes it off though and they reset for the second down.

“Shake it off,” She tells her team as she readies herself for the snap.

This time Brittany fakes the handoff to Puck before running in the opposite direction. No one is open though and the defense is quickly closing in on her. She looks left. She looks right. Still no one can get open. To avoid a second sack of the game or a possible interception, Brittany throws the ball over the heads of Sam and his defender out of bounds.

She starts to feel the pressure as the Titans head into their third down.

Brittany of course still has hope that they’ll make something happen. If anything, she can always bring out Kurt and the special teams for a field goal instead. That’s 3 extra points on the board, but being this close to the endzone? Brittany has to do everything she can to bring in a touchdown.

“This is it, boys,” Brittany says to her team in the huddle, “This is the moment Coach was talking about. There’s only a couple minutes left of this game and it’s looking good for us, but we can make it look even better.”

The guys look battered and bruised but they all nod along with Brittany.

“Big Wheels,” The quarterback calls before looking to Mike and Sam, “Run fast, get open and I’ll find you.”

Mike and Sam knock their fists together and nod.

Brittany then looks to Karofsky and Azimio. She heard Santana and Puck’s claims about them while the Trainer was looking her over. Honestly, she’s never been in this kind of situation where there’s a possibility that her own teammates would purposely let her get hit.

She looks at them with her jaw tightened, “Now’s the time to prove to everyone on this team – including me – that you deserve to be here.”

“What –“

“Don’t,” Brittany stops them, “Show. Don’t tell.”

The guards look taken aback but the rest of the team sides with Brittany on this. It’s one thing to be an asshole, but to upset the balance of the team on purpose like they’ve allegedly done? It doesn’t sit well with anyone.

“Let’s go Titans!” Brittany claps before everyone walks out of the huddle and into position.

Big Wheels is a passing play, that means Brittany has to sit in the pocket long enough for her receivers to get into position up field then it becomes a jump ball. She launches it to whoever she thinks has the best chance at jumping up and catching it despite their coverage.

Usually, the play is used for Hail Mary situations – for when they’re so far away from the endzone or first down that Brittany just has to chuck it and see if it’s caught. It’s a ballsy play, especially if coverage is tight but Brittany has faith in her receivers.

After all, they won their first game against Crawford County with this exact play. It’s kind of fitting that they do it again.

\\

The Titans walk up to the line of scrimmage and the energy in the stadium spikes. Time is quickly ticking away and this could potentially be their last play of the entire game. The Cheerios are shouting Go! Fight! Win! and the spectators pump their fist in time with each word.

Brittany looks to Santana in what feels like the first time since she left the field earlier. She’s the only one not cheering along with the squad, but instead anxiously awaiting the Titans’ next move. The incoming play relies heavily on Karofsky and Azimio doing their job correctly so it can buy Brittany some time in the pocket.

If Santana knew that was Brittany’s plan, the blonde can probably guess that she wouldn’t be too pleased with her – especially if she’s meant to be careful. This isn’t a careful sport though and Brittany can’t live in her fears. For the overall success of the team, she has to put herself in risky positions sometimes.

But it’s endearing to see Santana worry about her, so Brittany gives the Co-Captain a thumbs up before readying herself for the snap.

“Down…hut. Down...hut,” Brittany calls out coolly before leaning in again, “HUT!”

The ball is instantly in the quarterback’s hands and she drops back, keeping an eye on the defenders trying to squeeze their way through her O-Line as well as her receivers crossing into the endzone. She’s able to avoid a defender’s arm as he tries to slap the ball from her hands before Azimio pushes him back.

It’s that move that gives Brittany enough room to step up in the pocket and fire the ball towards Sam. He and his defender both jump up in the air, arms outstretched towards the incoming ball. Brittany watches with her breath held as the ball is juggled then caught and the two land in a tangled mess in the endzone.

She isn’t able to breathe again until the Sam pops up from the ground with the game winning ball in his hand just as the Ref signals the touchdown is good!

\\

Crawford County gets the ball back with just over two minutes left in the game and they are unsuccessful in scoring against the invigorated Titans defense.

The McKinley Titans end up winning the game: 38 – 28.

They’re off to the Championships along with Carmel High for the first time in who knows how many years and they couldn’t be more excited! The Titans shake hands with the opposing team before returning to their sidelines to celebrate. They’re spraying each other with drink bottles and dancing to the music that’s blasting through the stadium speakers.

Brittany steps back and takes it all in with a proud smile on her face.

The sights and sounds and this feeling that can’t be replicated; it’s like no other and she soaks it up. Her family is chanting her name from the stands and it makes her laugh when she sees Pete with his entire face painted red and white. Her little brother is something else, it warms her heart to see him cheer for her so passionately. It reminds her a little of their dad and she’s glad that Pete’s carrying on his legacy.  

Then there’s Santana who stares at her with this quiet kind of content. Her face is relaxed of any expression, but a storm cloud looms over her as she watches Brittany stand alone on the field.

Those on the team that have girlfriends are being hugged and kissed and congratulated, but not Brittany.

She just looks at Santana, waiting and willing her to do something – will she surprise her even more than she already has tonight? Will she finally blow off whatever anyone has to say about her or them and just do what feels right? Will she just come over here and kiss her already?

It’s like Brittany’s giving her this unspoken second chance and it really does look like Santana wants to do everything Brittany’s hoping she would. The Co-Captain is looking around at Quinn and Mike, Sugar and Sam, even Puck is making googly eyes at some random Cheerio. They’re both surrounded by everything they wish they could be, but Santana never makes a move.

Instead, she deflates – as if to say I can’t – before leaving with her head hung low and that just about answers Brittany’s questions.

\\

Despite the win under her belt, Brittany’s spirits never get quite as high as her teammates’. She wishes they would, anything to make this sinking feeling go away, but it never does. Brittany can only watch as Santana and the other Cheerios leave the field and the stands begin to empty.

This is the place Brittany blooms, right here on this field, but for the first time ever that doesn’t happen. She doesn’t feel whole even after the win and she hates that she knows why that is. She just saw the reason walk away from her and there’s nothing she can do about it.

She just looks up at the bright stadium lights and wishes on them as if they were stars. She wishes that things would right themselves. She wishes for courage and strength, but not for herself. She wishes for things to get better because she doesn’t know how to make that happen on her own.

Brittany keeps wishing because in the place she used to feel so sure of herself, she has never felt so lost in the lights.

\\

After finally going over to see her family and listening in on Coach Beiste’s post-game speech, Brittany makes her way to the girls’ locker room to get changed. She’s starting to feel those couple of hard hits she took during the game as she sets down her scuffed helmet and gets to work shedding her pads.

Brittany’s muscles are tight and her throwing arm is a little sore but it’s a nice relief once she gets her shoulder pads off. She strips down to her leggings and sports bra as she wanders over to the showers to get the water going. For once, she’s grateful she is the only one there because that means she won’t have to compete for hot water.

Brittany’s setting down a change of clothes on the bench by the shower stall when the locker room door creaks open. Brittany looks up and is stunned by who she sees creeping in.

“Hi,” Santana greets, her voice quiet as she closes the door behind her. She looks like a meek little mouse with her hands hidden in the pockets of her Cheerios jacket.

Brittany swallows dryly. She didn’t expect to see her here after the look they shared on the field, but Brittany greets her nonetheless.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

Santana takes a couple timid steps closer, “Just wanted to say great game.”

“Thanks,” Brittany nods before turning back to hang her towel on the hook. She has to keep busy so she doesn’t try to turn this into something bigger than it is, “Have you been hanging around just to tell me that?”

“Kind of.”

“Could’ve texted me,” Brittany shrugs but Santana only nods.

“I didn’t want to. I…I also wanted to apologize about running on the field,” Santana adds to Brittany’s surprise, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were worried.”

Santana lets loose a nervous chuckle, “No, I was – “

Brittany sends her a tired look and it has Santana stopping in her tracks. She looks as if she’s just been scolded although Brittany didn’t even say a word.

“Okay,” Santana relents, “I was worried. You weren’t moving and I just…I thought the absolute worst.”

Brittany sucks in a shaky breath and watches as Santana carefully takes another few steps closer, “And that made you run out on the field?”

“Well yeah,” Santana says easily, “I couldn’t just stand there and watch you like that. What if it was serious? You never know it’s the last time until it is and I didn’t want that. I don’t want that.”

Santana’s words strike a sensitive nerve within Brittany, but the quarterback continues to stand there with this look of indifference. She’s not sure whether Santana’s still talking about the game or what and it frustrates her.

“You don’t want that?” Brittany lets out a bitter laugh, “I don’t get you, Santana.”

Santana’s shoulders fall slightly, but she moves closer again. Now that they’re just an arm’s length away it overwhelms Brittany to have her so near, but she stays focused.

“Your words and your actions don’t add up,” Brittany continues, “You say you don’t have feelings but you rush the field when you think I’ve been hurt? You can see how I’m struggling to make sense of that, right?”

Brittany can see Santana trying to form the words but she moves too slowly.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Brittany adds, “I don’t know how you feel about me and it’s confusing and I don’t like it. I don’t like these kind of games. I don’t want to guess, Santana. I shouldn’t have to. If you don’t really like me then spare me the heartache and the runaround and just tell – “

Santana’s lips are on hers in an instant.

It’s like that same sigh of relief and Brittany hates how she relaxes into it out of habit. Santana cradles Brittany’s face in her hands so gently and she kisses her like her whole life depends on it. She kisses Brittany impatiently, like she’s trying to put everything she can’t say out loud behind it – but that’s what’s wrong with them, isn’t it?

Sometimes this isn’t enough, sometimes people need to hear it for themselves too.

When Brittany reluctantly pulls away from Santana, her whole body is a buzz. Her heart tells her to get back in there, to press Santana against the wall and kiss her hard, but her head says no. She can’t go back on her stance, she needs a real explanation – not a kiss that can be interpreted however the heart wants.

“This isn’t an answer,” Brittany says with her lips still tingling from the searing kiss.

“I know it isn’t,” Santana sighs. She sounds desperate as she drops her hands from Brittany’s cheeks to rest on her hips. Her thumbs smooth over Brittany’s bare skin, “But it’s all I’ve been thinking about doing as soon as you opened your eyes after that hit.”

Santana starts to lean in again and Brittany lets her, because she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about doing the same thing too.

“I wasn’t brave enough to do it out there,” Santana husks; her eyes are steady on Brittany’s, “I’m sorry. I wish I could be the kind of person you deserve to be with but I don’t think I am…not yet.”

Brittany bites the corner of her lip in thought. It’s the worst idea because she can taste just a hint of Santana’s lip gloss there and it distracts her for a moment from taking Santana’s words in. It’s the first time she’s hearing Santana be honest about her feelings and it breaks her heart a little to think Santana doesn’t see what Brittany sees in her.  

“I want to be though,” Santana adds, “I want to be brave enough to hold your hand when we walk down the hall together. I want to take you out on dates and buy you all the flowers that make me think of you, but most importantly I want to be able to kiss you whenever and wherever. Whether it’s between classes or out on that field in front of everyone after you’ve won the big game, I want to be brave enough to do it…I just don’t know how to do that.”

“I can help you,” Brittany offers, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

The tears welling in Santana’s eyes are unexpected, but the Co-Captain blinks them away as smile graces her lips, “So I’ve heard.”

“It’s true, Santana.”

“I know,” Santana replies, “It’s just taken awhile for me to believe it. You came here and everything changed, I changed. But it isn’t enough. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to show you that they…that they like you. A lot. I want to be that someone someday.”

Brittany’s so moved by Santana words that she surprises herself by being the one to lean in first. She inhales sharply as their mouths crash together once again. It’s everything that Brittany has been trying to pull out of Santana and now that she finally heard it, she doesn’t know what to do but kiss her long and hard.  

Santana’s hands are gripping Brittany’s sides while the blonde frowns at not be able to feel more of Santana too. As if Santana could read Brittany’s mind, she starts to shrug out of her Cheerios jacket. Brittany helps with pulling it all the way off before it’s tossed to the floor. Neither of them are thinking too clearly about where this is going, but the shower steam is filling the room like a sauna and it’s make their clothes feel too tight.

“Fuck,” Santana whines when Brittany nips at her lower lip.

“Take this off,” Brittany groans as she tugs on Santana’s top. The brunette’s hands have been all over Brittany and it just isn’t fair that she can’t feel Santana too.

Santana obliges without a second thought and the top falls to join her jacket on the floor.

Brittany gulps when she sees Santana’s lacy, black bra while her hands move on their own to roam. Her breath hitches though when Santana hooks her fingers into the waistband of her tights.

“These too,” Santana whispers against Brittany’s swollen lips.

Brittany quickly sheds them, trying her hardest to keep from breaking the kiss but it’s nearly impossible to do. They giggle when Brittany hobbles around on one foot trying to pull the last of the tights from around her ankle, but then it’s not so funny.

She’s standing there in just her bra and boy shorts while Santana mirrors her doing the same. The Cheerios skirt is the last layer Santana has on and it falls to pool around her ankles.

They’re equal now and Brittany’s chest is heaving at the sight. Her head is begging to know is this really happening but she’s pressed snooze on it for the time being. In this moment, she can’t help but follow her heart and it’s telling her to go for it.

Whatever it means.

“I’ve never,” Santana whispers a second later.

Brittany’s heart pounds but her voice comes out surprisingly even, “Ever?”

Santana gives her a look that makes Brittany want to laugh. It’s the perfect way to break up such a nerve racking moment.

“With a guy, yes. With a girl…no.”

“Well I figured considering I was your first girl kiss,” Brittany jokes and it has Santana smiling bashfully. Brittany softens, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Santana steps closer and her eyes flicker between Brittany’s piercing blues.

Then Santana leans in and the kiss that follows is softer than the ones before. It’s slow and methodical and Brittany melts into her yet again, but it doesn’t last for too long. The kiss turns needy and before Brittany knows it, she’s stepping backwards into the shower. She can’t tell if she’s the one doing the guiding or if it’s Santana, maybe it’s just a mutual thing, but when the warm water hits their bodies they pull each other closer.

They still have their bras and underwear on and the water is starting to soak through, but they don’t seem to notice as they continue to trade hungry kisses beneath the spray. After such a rough game in the freezing cold, this is the perfect way to warm up. It’s like Brittany can feel everything and it would be so overwhelming if she didn’t love every second of it.

Her hands smooth over all of this newly exposed skin, memorizing each and every curve of Santana’s body as if she was never going to see it again. Who knows, maybe she won’t? It’s one thing at a time and right now that one thing is showing Santana how great they could be together.

“Good thing you picked this one,” Santana mumbles breathlessly about the stall.

Brittany shakes away the daze of her thoughts, “What?”

“I pay the janitor to deep clean it twice a week,” Santana smirks, “No one else is meant to use it but me.”

“Whoops,” Brittany snickers, “I wondered why it was always so clean. There’s always really nice smelling body wash in here too.”

“You’re welcome.”

Brittany and Santana giggle as they share one more kiss, but this one isn’t like the others. It’s sweet and chaste and happens almost out of reflex.

Santana’s the first to break it this time, “So are you going to like…wash yourself or?”  

Brittany quirks a brow, “You saying I stink?”

Santana gives her a look and Brittany sends it right back.

“Why else would I be in the shower, Santana?” Brittany teases, “There are many walls in here that I could’ve pinned you against other than this very clean one.”

“Smart ass,” Santana smirks as she grabs the shampoo, “Turn around. I’ll do your hair.”

“Really?” Brittany grins but Santana just shrugs. The blonde turns and lets Santana get to work washing her hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world for them.

“I’ve never showered with my clothes on,” Brittany admits.

“You can lose them if you want.”

Brittany looks over her shoulder at Santana to find her with this smug grin on her face.

“I doubt you could handle that,” Brittany flirts.

“You’re probably right.”

The blonde feels that same familiar sense of floating that she’s been so desperately missing the past couple of days as Santana scratches at her scalp. Even if they’re not doing anything too risky, this is much more intimate than they’ve ever been. It’s a nice change and it almost makes up for the last couple of days they’ve been apart.

\\

Once Santana rinses Brittany’s hair, they go back to kissing lazily. They shift back and forth from hungry and needy to soft and slow, but their last layer of clothes is never shed. Despite their bras and bottoms being a sopping wet mess, no one crosses that barrier. They just stand beneath the spray like that until the water starts to lose its warmth.

Brittany finally feels like herself again, like maybe things will be okay but there’s an odd moment of clarity and it has her pressing pause.

“We should still talk about things,” Brittany reminds Santana, “This doesn’t count.”

Santana pulls away and looks Brittany in the eye again, “I know.”

“Okay.”

Santana gives her a shy smile, “Soon.”

Brittany nods before Santana steals another kiss. She has high hopes, because that’s just who she is. She always searches for the best in people, she always gives third and fourth chances. Whether or not that’s her greatest trait or her biggest downfall, she’ll never know. But when it comes to Santana, she just has to keep her head up.

Santana said they’ll talk soon, so she’s going to hold her to that.

#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana Fanficition #Fanfics #QB!Britt

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 8: First Time

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​

*************************************************

(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 8: First Time

It is time to reveal the first meeting between the shy doctor and his new, very clumsy girlfriend.

Why is this the time, you may ask?

Well, because,  what better way to intrigue the reader than by leaving the couple in newfound happiness without delivering the details of the said night. As well as provide a title that could reference the event and/or have it mean something completely different.

Not to worry, the awaited next morning shall be given in the next chapter.

Without any more delay, please enjoy the individual perspective of the first time they saw each other.

She took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened for the first time, leading her to what was bound to be her new workplace. She smiled politely at all the people she encountered in her short walk and as soon as she reached the glass doors she froze.

How had she made it this far? What if she wasn't good enough? What if the whole room hated her and she was just a horrible profiler and got fired on day two?

No, she was good enough otherwise she wouldn't be here. That was easier said than believed. She gathered the courage she needed and pushed the door, only to be greeted with it being stuck. She continued putting force, hoping it would decide to open before someone noticed her struggling, but it was too late for that.

"It's a pull, not a push." A deep voice said, behind her. She turned to see a dark-skinned tall man with no hair and very full eyebrows. He was wearing a black T-shirt that made his obvious muscles stand out. He wore black pants and dress shoes and a gun was holstered to his side. He was cute! Not that she had the time for dating, she didn't want a repeat of last year.

Instead of commenting on his appearance or flirting, she decided to pull the door, and would you know? It was suddenly unstuck. "I knew it wasn't stuck, I was just making sure it was strong enough."

The man chuckled, followed by a "sure," that wasn't even trying to sound convincing.

She made her way inside the bullpen, looking for her new boss, Aaron Hotchner's office. As she approached said room, a group of desks with only one person sitting caught her eye. She debated whether to approach but she could feel the man from earlier staring at her and decided not to. As soon as she met with agent Hotch, as he asked her to refer to him as, they were called for a case and she was in the meeting room for the first time, sitting as far away from everyone as possible.

"Everyone, before we start I want to introduce you to our new Agent," Hotch said, as he referred to the woman. She stood and waved. "This is our team, Derek Morgan," he said pointing at the man from earlier, he winked at her knowingly and she simply smiled, already wishing to leave. "This is Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi-"

"DAVID ROSSI?!" Her voice echoed through the room and she instantly felt embarrassment settle in. "I am so sorry, I'm such a fan. You must get that a lot, sorry."

She looked at the members she had been introduced to, Jennifer Jareau was wearing a striped dress shirt and dress pants, her blonde hair was left down and her blue eyes looked amused. Emily Prentiss wore her black hair in a low ponytail, a pink shirt, and black pants, she also seemed to be having a good time at her expense.

The man whose books she had in paperback, hardcover and audible, simply chuckled as if his only feeling was amusement. His hair was short and he had a lock beard look going on, a black suit with a matching red tie a clearly expensive watch on his wrist, he basically smelled like money.

"As I was saying," continued Hotch, adjusting the blue tie of his seemingly very expensive suit, a white dress shirt underneath. "This is Penelope Garcia, our Tech analyst, and Dr. Spencer Reid." She looked at the last two members and for the first time, she saw people like her. Although all the members introduced prior seemed like good people, they also seemed so professional, like they knew what they were doing and when to get their hands dirty. The remaining two, seemed younger, like how they presented themselves to the world was the same whether they were on the job as it was in their spare time.

Penelope had a beautiful rainbow dress, her blonde hair with a lot of volume and pins stuck all over, although she didn't like cats, she adored the woman's cat-themed glasses, and deep down she was a sucker for glitter. Spencer, the other doctor in the room, was wearing a white shirt underneath the comfiest looking red sweater she had ever seen. It was weird seeing someone wearing a sweater in the middle of the summer, but hey, who was she to judge? His hair was lazily pushed back and his curls were so pretty! How do you get curls that pretty?! Not to mention he was good looking, a defined jawline, and those brown eyes could melt her any time he wanted.

There she was, thinking things she shouldn't of yet another coworker. "It is a pleasure to meet you all." She took her seat again and Penelope began presenting the case.

As they were brainstorming, she had finally felt confident enough to suggest something, only to find herself interrupted by Spencer Reid. "Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence." She spoke, clearly not having it. "I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!" All eyes turned to her, perplexed. "I don't know how they do it here in the East Coast but back in the west we let a person finish their sentence." Laughs emerged in the room, and Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed and very confused.

"I beg your pardon?" The man questioned.

"As you should. My pardon is granted." She turned back and finished her thoughts.

At that moment, unknowingly, she had just put into motion the seed for what would become her and Spencer Reid's relationship. And all the events that followed, her almost-death at the hands of a cult leader, her cool head when proving Morgan's innocence, and the countless times she made sure every single member of her team remained safe while providing them with immense ammunition to laugh when feeling down left an impression. Neither knew it but they were on each other's mind more than they realized. But that's not what you want to hear right now, is it?

After getting on the jet, the seat next to who she believed to be Emily Prentiss was the only one available. She took the seat and the woman gave her a kind smile.

"It wasn't that bad." She assured her.

"I may have just made a really bad first impression."

"You didn't, if anything we like you more than before." She followed this by a wink as the team reviewed the case and they took off.

"So, detective Owen is leading this investigation, you guys remember him, correct?" JJ spoke first.

"From the stalker case," Hotch noted.

"Yes." The blonde agreed, "Spence, you remember that case, right?"

"Yes Jennifer, I do." She took a chance by glancing up to find him very flustered at the mention.

"Do you ever talk to, what's her name again... Lila, right? Do you keep in contact with her?" She questioned, an amused smile forming on her face.

"I honestly think we should focus on this particular case." He answered, avoiding the question.

She turned to Emily who shrugged, just as confused as she was. Rossi seemed as lost as the two women, but Morgan and JJ seemed to be having a good time.

After landing and meeting with the local PD, they had begun their investigation, trying to understand this unsub. It had been about twenty-four hours since she had food and her growling stomach wasn't helping anyone.

"How about we go to get some food newbie?" Emily suggested, "I could use some right now."

"Sure."

As they made their way to the first food cart they saw, Emily cursed under her breath. "Fuck, I forgot my purse."

"It's okay, my treat. After all, thanks to you I'm getting food."

"I will pay you back."

"No need." With this said, the two ordered a hot dog and a soda. She should have known better than to do so, as soon after her first bite, the meal decided to find a second home in her shirt. "Oh, come on!"

"That's not good." Emily agreed, "let me run to the hotel, it's two blocks from here, and I'll get you a new shirt."

"You don't need to do that."

"I will be fast, don't worry."

Too late she realized that Emily's purse, which she assumed had her hotel key, was in the office. Nonetheless, the woman returned with a sweater to help her cover the stain. The irony wasn't lost on her, she judged Spencer's sweater-wearing and now she had to do the same.

This was definitely going to be a great day.

*************************************************

Spencer Reid was never one to be noisy, nor the first one to notice people. This often came out as rude and most people believed he thought he was better than them, which was not the case. The truth is that overcoming his addiction had left him drained, the parting of Elle Greenaway, the only woman he could safely admit he loved, and the departure of yet another father figure, Jason Gideon, had made him developed a closed-off personality that prevented him from ever creating attachments to new individuals. Emily Prentiss and David Rossi being the only exceptions.

This is important to know because as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked into the bullpen, he tried his hardest to avoid looking up. Granted, it was more for appearance sake than anything, because there was no way he hadn't noticed her. How could he not? She wore a white shirt that was loose enough to give her a sense of floating through the room. He had seen her struggle to open the door, and the interaction she had with Derek Morgan and knew if he made a move the Doctor would have no chance. Not that he wanted one, he didn't even know her name.

He saw her walk towards Aaron Hotchner's office and any possibility that might have crossed his mind had been completely shattered. She would be his teammate, and fraternization was not allowed within the same unit. Again, that was just stating the facts, because he wouldn't even consider entering a romantic relationship. It was true that he had kissed more girls in the last two years than he had done in the last twenty-six years of his life, but that didn't mean he was a player, or that he would try to get in the new agents' pants.

After discussing these same things with himself he was called into the bullpen and knew they would be introduced to the new girl. He fixed his sweater and rubbed his hands clearing the sweat that had accumulated.

"You okay, Spence?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem a little nervous."

"I haven't had enough coffee, is all."

"Well, how could you? Your drinks are basically liquid sugar."

"It's not that bad JJ." They both reached the room in which they held their round table and sat next to each other.

Slowly, the room filled with the rest of the team and lastly by their Unit Chief and the new member. She was introduced to all of them and he couldn't help but notice how her hands seemed so shaky and her cheeks were flushed. He took his view from her and attempted to concentrate on the case. When he finally found himself in the zone was when his biggest mistake occurred.

"If you look at the scar marks though it seems-" Before he could continue, the girl he had just interrupted had cut him off.

She made sure to set him straight and he looked up just in time to hear her mention his summer-sweater wearing and feel completely embarrassed.

"I beg your pardon?" He said a little annoyed. Sure, it wasn't correct to interrupt her, but bringing his sweater tendencies was not polite. She took his words as an actual apology whether he intended it that way or not (which he didn't) and continued.

The memory would forever be engraved in his brain, he knew that were the little things that made having an eidetic memory, not such a great perk. So, as they sat in the jet he avoided all eye contact.

How could never look her in the eye without remembering their first real interaction, and he was sure she would not want to actually have a conversation with a guy that had come off as dismissive on her first day.

He would have overthought the whole situation if it hadn't been for JJ reminding him of his first 'fling' as the team often referred to it. Lila had been an actress they had protected from a stalker, and Reid couldn't help but fall for her charms. They hadn't talked in a while, mostly because he knew dating someone you barely knew was hard enough, but doing it when the two of you lived on the other side of the country was even worse.

He made sure to try and forget the mentioned girl and the incident with the new agent as he fixed his bed space. Sleeping in hotel rooms made him very uncomfortable, knowing all the germs that could possibly inhabit every single inch, but he loved his job, so with a few accommodations, he got through it.

"More sweaters pretty boy?" Morgan said, taking one out of his go-bag. "How did it go, ah yes: I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!"

"Please stop, it's bad enough I will forever have that memory seared in my brain. She probably thinks I'm a douchebag."

"She probably does." His roommate teased. "But don't worry, she'll come around, now, let's go. We have work to do."

Morgan threw the sweater onto his bed and the two made their way to the local police station. They spent about five hours trying to come up with a preliminary profile, hoping this would give them the insight they needed to determine the importance of victimology, and possible help with a geographical profile by letting them know if there had been missing person's reports or bodies of people that fit that general victimology. After that time Emily and the new girl decided to go get food. He was hungry too but decided against going with them because he didn't think he would be well received.

After about half an hour, the pair returned and the girl was wearing a sweater that very clearly resembled the one Morgan had left on his bed earlier that day. He didn't think much of it until they returned to their hotel room and said clothing item was nowhere to be found.

"How on earth does a sweater just disappear? We had a do not disturb sign up, there is no way housekeeping would come in." Morgan said as they both looked for it.

At this point, Spencer knew why he wouldn't find his sweater, but decided to remain silent. How could he ask her politely to return it? And more importantly, why was she wearing it? How did she get a hold of it?

He never really got an answer to these questions, as they were not really friends, and he didn't feel comfortable asking about it. She had worn it a couple of times, including during their kidnapping, it seemed rather odd to bring it up then. "Hey, I know we might die, but I just have to know: How did you get my sweater?" was probably not going to cut it. So he let her keep it, and eventually, while the memory was still engraved in his brain, it became less relevant. That was, until the next morning of their shared night, when he saw said sweater very visibly hanging on her closet door and decided to try it on and see if it still fit.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #CM #fanfic

[captainjimothycarter]

Prompt- Peggy is royalty (steggy)

This is so not what you asked for, but this just hit me and I ran with it.

--

“Peggy?”

The name slipped from Steve’s lips in a worried tone, hearing the heavy thumping past her apartment door. He frowned at the frame, watching the silver number three jiggle and fall to the carpeted floor with a heavy thunk. 

What the hell was she doing in there? She’s normally much quieter than this, almost to the point Steve forgot that his new neighbor of a year now was even home half the time.

She’d moved in practically overnight, with nothing but a backpack thrown over her shoulder and a smile on her red lips. Over time the apartment filled with furniture and knickknacks to make the small place home.  She was easygoing and laughed everything off. 

They’d first met when he was carrying too much at once, boxes stacked on top of each other and trying to balance his small frame as he carried them to his front door. He hadn’t seen her, all he saw were a pair of white flats that were suddenly coated in pizza sauce when they’d collided. He heard her fall before he fell himself, the weight of the boxes toppling over and his groceries for the week were spilled over the floor.

He’d apologized, despite it hadn’t been his fault, even offered to take her shoes to the dry cleaners because those looked expensive but she said no and laughed it off. That laugh, the sound of church bells ringing in the distance made him relax and believe everything wasn’t so bad as it seems. It didn’t mean he wasn’t embarrassed, trying to salvage what he could. She’d helped him clean up and give him more than enough money to replace his groceries five times over, apologizing once again.

Then they just...kept running into each other, pausing in the hall to chat or wait for one another on the elevator.

When the lights had gone out during a storm, Peggy was knocking on his door with a generator in hand. When he questioned it, she said she noticed how he had to use an oxygen machine sometimes and wanted him to use it in case the power didn’t come back on. She had spent the night on the couch despite his insistence she should take the bed. They’d both slept on the couch that night, Peggy’s head in his lap.

It was fond touches like that, little gestures that made him think okay something was there. Could be there. If only either of them reached out and grasp it. He was trying to work up the courage to ask her for a date but as of late, these last few weeks, Peggy had been withdrawn, rarely came out of her apartment, and seemed to push Steve away at every opportunity.

It worried him simply because that wasn’t Peggy.

Another thunk hitting the door drew the blonde from his thoughts. This time it defiantly sounded like a body hitting the frame. He had no weapon on him, no means to defend himself but the portrait he’d spent hours painting down at the rec center. 

Peggy could be in trouble.

That terrifying thought alone caused him to shoulder the door open, hurting his frail shoulder more than the door. He stumbled through and took in the torn apart apartment. The few pictures she’d bought off of him had been ripped from the walls, her furniture turned over, drawer contents emptied, and the trail just continued to her bedroom where the sounds were coming from now.

Stepping over a painted scene of a meadow that he’d done for her, Steve slowly followed the trail into the bedroom. 

A grunt was heard and a body came stumbling towards him. Steve didn’t hesitate, taking the thick, framed painting and slamming it on the guy’s head. The force cartoonishly rips the canvas in the middle and made the taller, broader man stumble. It was enough of a shock for Peggy, bruised and bloodied to knock the man out by swinging the bat at the man’s head.

Steve’s eyes widened as he watched the body slump to the floor, looking up at her. Her hair was a frazzled mess, matted and stuck to a gash on her forehead. Her lip was split open and her eye blackened. There were rising bruises around her neck where someone had choked her and a few on her arms. The blouse and jeans she wore were splattered with blood, a sinking feeling telling Steve that most of that was not her own.

“Is he...is he…?” He didn’t know if he could finish that statement. He didn’t want to know.

“No, just knocked out. I didn’t hit him nearly as hard as I possibly could,” Peggy panted, lowering the bat to sag into the wall. “He’ll wake up in a few hours with the worst headache in history and a reminder to leave me the hell alone.”

Nodding his head as if this all made sense and this was a normal occurrence, Steve could feel the shock running through his system. His mouth opened to question her when she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down the hall to throw them both into the bathroom. She jammed the shower chair against the frame and turned back to him, barely able to make him out amongst the dimly lit bathroom. The only light came from the frog nightlight over the sink.

“What the-the hell is going on?!” Steve stuttered, scrambling to stand up.

“Sit down!” She ordered, Steve instantly dropped back down. “And lay low for a minute. Hush.” 

She pressed her ear to the door, her breath held. Whatever she was listening for, she didn’t find. Steve watched as she slid down the wall, taking in a deep breath that barely contained the emotions.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t....want you to get involved, but now that they’ve seen you...they’ll involve you. I wanted to protect you.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper and Steve swore he had heard again but at this point, his ears were ringing and he was starting to feel nauseous.

“Whose out to get you? What’s going on? Pegs, seriously. I deserve to know if I’m involved now. Are you with the mafia?”

The question made Peggy laugh, laughing until she started to cry. Despite how he should be angry, Steve dragged himself over to her and laid her head on his shoulder. She held onto his small frame and cried for a solid few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized yet again. “I don’t have much time to explain before they realize we’re in here, but I’ll explain as much as I can, okay? Those guys...the one you saw me beat up - he’s from an organization named HYDRA. No, they’re not the mafia or the mob or whatever you want to call it. They’re royalty.”

Steve’s head bobbed as if this made sense. As if he knew it all along. “And...they’re after you because you stole the family jewels?”

“No, doofus. They’re after me because they and my family have had a long-lasting history that spans generations. They’re after me because I left. I’m not...Peggy from England who moved to America for a new start. I...I’m royalty, Steven.”

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, laying Steve low to the cold floor seconds before a bullet shattered the small window above them. 

“You have to believe me, Steven,” Peggy whispered, holding tightly to his collard shirt. “I know it sounds far fetched and trust me, the more details I go into the more far fetched it will sound, but you must trust me. I have to keep you safe. I have been completely selfish and I apologize for that - you were not meant to be involved. You had a nice life.”

Any questions Steve had were lost and he had plenty of them. She spoke to him, at him, stuck in another memory, another lifetime. She sounded almost whimsical and distant in her tone, the way her hands clung to him soothingly rubbed at his jawline. 

“Okay,” he swallowed, flinching when another bullet buried itself into the wall. “How do we get out of here? Only way out is through that door.”

He followed Peggy’s eyes to the laundry chute and his heart dropped. “Oh no,” he groaned. “No.”

“You want to face Brock Rumlow out there - fella is one of the sharpest shooters I’ve met. Or do you want to go down the long slide like the child in you wants to?”

She had a point, but he could remember as a child going down the slide and getting stuck for hours. It terrified him. His answer was chosen for him when the bathroom door started to shake on its hinges. 

Forcing Steve up to crawl, Peggy ran to the door, putting her full weight into it. She waved her hand at Steve, teeth-gritting when it bulged against her. “Go! I’ll be right there.”

Throwing open the chute, he threw one last look at Peggy, desperate, worried before jumping down. His last look of her nearly blinded him in bright, white light, and the sound of a male voice screaming.

--

Changing into ‘borrowed’ clothes is not how Steve saw his day going. The ball cap was far too big for him and kept sliding over his eyes. The black button-up smelled funky and the jeans were twice his size, he had to roll the pants legs up twice to get his feet free and hold them up with his hand. 

Yet, Peggy insisted this would help them escape. A change of clothes and keeping their head down. She found clothes amongst the masses around them, a simple sundress that someone was too lazy to even take the tags off of. She hid her hair under a blue, silk scarf, pulling sunglasses out from the lost and found box. They made quite the pair but somehow Peggy looked better. 

Steve watched as she pulled a backpack from behind a false wall, and grabbed at his hand. “Have you been preparing for this?!”

“Since I first arrived, yes. Questions later, Steven.”

The sun was starting to set, painting Brooklyn in a warm glow of orange and pink with the fluffiest white clouds anyone could’ve painted. Nothing looked real. Nothing felt real. He felt like he was walking in a waking dream at this point. His feet lead him wherever Peggy tugged him through, keeping up just because of the hand she held. 

As promised, he kept his head down and eyes on the ground, which was fine because he couldn’t see his feet in these pants. He felt disgusting like he needed ten baths just to feel himself again.

Ten baths and questions answered.

What the hell was going on? She said she was royalty. She had knocked out a man. She knew the people she was fighting and yet convinced that he had lived a normal life? She spoke as if she knew him, knew some part of him that he had yet to even know. 

The sky was hidden behind the thick wave of clouds, blocking out the night sky and making everything seem more dreary than it was. Brooklyn even felt more dreary than normal, the mass of people was gone, still some on the street but not nearly as much. People avoided them and he could hear Peggy mumbling to herself in something that didn’t sound like any language he’s heard of.

“Where are we going?” He finally asked after the unkempt turn down some alleyway. He stumbled over a loose brick and cursed as his knee bashed into the wall.

Peggy easily hoisted him onto his feet and led him down the long, cool path. “Safehouse.” She sounded uncertain and he didn’t like that. 

“Seriously. Where? Because I feel like we’ve walked all of Brooklyn at this point.” Peggy shot him a look that instantly shut him up, sighing. “I’m just frustrated, okay?! I know nothing and now my life is in danger because-because you’re, what, a princess supposedly who didn’t wanna play royalty?!”

She stopped them to let him go, letting him fall back into the wall. Maybe it was the play of the street lamps but her eyes suddenly looked older. Not just by years but decades, like she’s lived a thousand lives in his simple one.

“You have no idea what my life has been like,” Peggy hissed, pointing a finger at Steve’s thin chest. “The sacrifices I’ve had to make, the choices I’ve done, the people, my people who suffered because of it. Because I tried to do the right thing. I lost my brother to these men’s cruelty, Steven, and yes, yes I know this isn’t fair to you at all, but you…” 

Her eyes had turned almost golden in the light and in a blink, they were gone. She took in a sharp breath and scrubbed at her face, shaking her head. “Let’s go,” she continued. “A few more blocks, then we can rest.”

--

They were two more blocks over when a crowd of people passed through them, separating them. Steve stumbled through it, losing sight of Peggy. He heard it before he saw it. He felt it. Everything was in slow motion - the bullet expertly cutting through the air, missing every person but its target. 

Peggy. 

She wordlessly fell to the ground, bleeding from her shoulder. The bullet hadn’t passed through but it did nothing to help the gushing of blood. She gritted her teeth and touched the wound, pulling away to see the red staining her fingertips. 

No scream. No sound of pain. No falling apart as any other human would. 

The people around them didn’t react - they still walked around the pair, obvious to the bleeding woman on the street. Did they not see what the hell he was seeing?

“Peggy!” Steve shoved a man out of the way to get to her, kneeling to cradle her. “We have to get out of here. They’re going to keep firing.”

She grunted as she staggered to her feet, throwing herself to grip at the light post. Steve swore her eyes turned gold again as he took her good arm and threw it over his shoulder. His one hand tried to do the best to use the ripped end of his shirt to press against the bleeding wound as he walked with her.

“This way.” 

Her voice sounded weak and frail, a thousand miles away. Older than what she was herself.

She leads him towards a hotel, the name lost on him as he stumbled through the revolving door with a bleeding woman sagging against him. The only person to have some valid reaction was the single receptionist. Her eyes widened at the sight of a pale woman leaning onto a scrawnier blonde, standing up instantly with a phone in hand.

Peggy reached across to put a hand on the receiver, shaking her head. She said something and maybe it was the shock, but this time Steve knew it wasn’t in English. Something in the back of his mind, that tiny voice that has always been there since he was a child translated for him, Arrow Suite. 

The woman silently nodded, hitting a button on her keyboard and handing Steve a golden key card with the instruction to tap it once to open their door. 

Getting up to the suites was hard enough, Peggy losing strength with each step of the way. By the time they were inside of a large hotel with grand windows, spread out furniture, even a kitchen, and living room, she was barely conscious.

Sitting her on the bed, Steve rushed to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and tugged her dress down, apologizing the entire time. He didn’t expect this to greet him.

Scars. Peggy’s back was littered with scars, thick scars that laid in no simple pattern, crossing over one another. Some looking older than others. Larger scars stood out from the rest, burn marks that mirrored each other perfectly. His fingers had brushed over them and she hissed, jerking away from the touch.

“Don’t...don’t do that. Get...get the bullet out of me. I can...heal it on my own. The copper - it’s taking my strength.”

He wanted to question it, but at this point, he’d do anything Peggy said to keep her alive. Giving her a towel to bite on, he got to work pulling the bullet out with a pair of tweezers and rubbing alcohol. Sure enough, a copper bullet fell to the bed and he batted it away, thinking it must’ve still been hot to burn his hand as he did so.

Peggy groaned as she laid a hand over the sluggishly bleeding wound, a bright, white light coming from her fingertips. Steve had to look away, reminded of the light he’s seen earlier. 

“I think…” Peggy sighed, tongue darting out to run over her dry lips. “You deserve an explanation. C-Call room service for me, please?”

--

Taking the coffee cup from Steve, Peggy downed the sludge inside in two minutes flat while he picked at his plate. She stood up slowly to pull the rest of her clothes off, in the time it took dinner to arrive Steve had shed his clothes and taken a hot shower. She was used to her nudity but as he looked up at her, holding tightly close the robe, something about her wasn’t human.

She just didn’t look human in her skin. He should be embarrassed about seeing her naked and some part of him was, but he was more annoyed and frustrated. Embarrassment can come later.

She strolled closer to him until they were a foot apart and raised her arms as if to make some grand speech before they dropped. Her mouth opened and closed and all at once, she had wings.

Bright, white wings. Pure. A golden hue around them as she turned around for Steve to see they had come from the very spots that had been burned. She turned back to him, the food falling from his plate as he struggled to place what he was seeing. He touched them, stroking over the tips, and shaking his head.

“What...I…” Why wasn’t he so much shocked by this?

“You know,” Peggy whispered, kneeling so they were level. She shuddered at his touch, taking his hand to pull it away. “You know what I am, Steven. Some part of you always has, hasn’t it? Some voice in the back of your head tells you this.

“I am not human, the people on the earth consider me an angel. The closest to texts I could find classify me as an Aasimar.  We are a civilization that is vast and well beyond these simple mortal’s lives. I am...one of the Fallen. The scars you saw? Burn marks? Those are scars of my pasts, marking me for my sins. The smaller ones are from the time I spent in HYDRA’S hold, being tortured for who I am, for the information I hold. I spent thousands of years in their company. Thousands. 

“And all to save you.”

Her lips twitched, her warm, brown eyes now turning a shade of gold. Steve swallowed, feeling as Peggy had said, he knew this. This was repeated history and yet, he didn’t know this. 

“I don’t understand. How. Who are you? What’s going on? How did you get here? HYDRA? - What?” 

A small laugh escaped her throat, a hand coming to tussle his hair. For his sake, she wrapped herself up in a soft robe and sat in the chair across from him to give them some distance.

“Once upon a time, Steven, you and I were bonded. Soulmates. You bore my mark and I bore yours. We lived hundreds of lives together, we spend decades together, learning to love one another. We grew up as children, to teenagers who got in far too much trouble, to sturdy adults. You were to become my partner, to rule beside me. Until the day you were cruelty ripped from my arms.

It was our ceremony. You were to become my husband, my partner. We were to be placed on the throne and take over my father and mother. You looked so handsome, you always did. We were steps away from touching and…” Her throat closed up, but she pressed on. “You were killed. A bullet had pierced your heart. The only mercy I had was that your death was a quick one.

War broke out a week later.”

“With...HYDRA?” Steve murmured, feeling a shiver run down his spine. He laid a hand over his chest, where he knew a puckered scar laid. It was always tender to touch. “How did you become a Fallen? Get captured? You said your brother…? And...how am I here? How are you here?”

The questions just made her smile again, shaking her curls. “Little one, there is time, shush.”

“Yes, with HYDRA. My brother insisted on leading the first charge. I insisted on going but I was forbidden. I was forbidden without my soulmate to rule the kingdom as well. My brother, Michael, was killed in battle. The first killed amongst thousands. They put his body on a stake, where others could see it. He did not get the mercy of a slow death. 

I left that very night, I snuck out from our kingdom and trekked to HYDRA’S walls where my brother laid, decaying. It was foolish to think I could do something but I was so caught up in a rage, with the loss of you, the loss of my brother, far too much. I killed their leader that night. Schmidt choked to death on his own blood, a rod made of copper burning him from the inside out.

I was captured. I was tortured. I was made to watch as HYDRA invaded my kingdom and killed my mother and father and killed anyone who defied them, who rose up against them. I singlehandedly destroyed my kingdom with my actions. 

Time had passed and my bond with you never faded as one should when their partner dies. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to leave. To fight my way out. I did the only thing I could do. I burned my own wings off. I disguised myself as a human with what limited powers I still possessed. I found a way to earth and...found you. 

I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn’t. I was drawn to you. I still am. You know me, you know this because you’ve lived it. You were reborn as a creature of this earth but you still possess the knowledge of your other lives. I had hoped that upon seeing me you’d remember everything, but I am not that lucky. I wanted to keep you safe but I couldn’t. I failed even in that.”

Her head hung and Steve found himself drawn to her, kneeling between her legs. His nimble fingers cupped her cheek and pressed their foreheads together. She was right - he didn’t remember. Yet he had some feeling that he did. It was locked away inside of him, the key thrown away. He couldn’t explain the complicated emotions inside of him, the guilt on her face felt like a copper rod was in his stomach right now.

“I want to.” It was the only thing he could think to say, pressing their lips together.

A shiver ran down Steve’s spine at the touch of her lips to his. More than a shiver, his nerves were on fire. A trail of them spreading out in open flames in all directions. Burning from the top of his head to the souls of his feet. His shoulders ached the worst, muscles twitching, nerves searing in white-hot pain.

He couldn’t even scream, Peggy held him close and kissed him again. She was speaking to him, trying to calm him down. He couldn’t hear it, his ears were roaring.

Then all at once, it stopped. He laid against her, panting hard, feeling weak all over. His eyes slowly opened to feel a pair of wings on his back. They were just like hers - bright white. Smaller, but they felt like home when he touched them.

He remembered. He remembered Peggy, their life planned together before either was even born. He remembered going to school with her, stealing sweets from the kitchen, sparring with Michael, decades and decades of reading in the library.

He remembered the nervous feeling of the ceremony, his last sight was of Peggy before he just woke up one day, here, in Brooklyn. None the wiser.

“Steven? Are you…?” Steve pulled away and shakingly got to his feet, flexing the wings slowly with a shaken grin. She looked up at him with a fierce amount of pride that made his heart melt. 

“I remember,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “And we’re going to get our kingdom back, Pegs. HYDRA will fall, I promise you that.”

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Steggy Prompt #Royal AU #Wing AU #Fantasy AU #Modern Royal AU #Nonny Prompt #A long one

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3 

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda​ @ghostkat23​ @ayoo-bangtan​ @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming. 

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around. 

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy. 

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop. 

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them. 

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance. 

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door. 

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated. 

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs. 

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach. 

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!” 

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!” 

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!�� Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.” 

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet. 

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.” 

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

Previous | Next

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

[possiamo-andare]

No More Divisions - Chapter Two: Trapped

JJ x Original Character

Hey guys, I'm glad you liked the first part. It's so cool to see that people were liking my post and even messaging me to give me feedback. If anyone would like to be part of my tag list so that whenever I post another chapter, you'll be notified, please comment or message me to let me know. Enjoy this next chapter!

~

When I see Rafe standing there, gun in hand, I almost want to laugh. I think it's because my brain can't comprehend that the guy that I loved some time ago is a killer. Rafe was a smartass and could definitely be cruel to his sisters but he never would kill anyone. Never.

For a moment, my brain takes me to the past. It's a couple months ago, when everything was still good between us and I didn't know he was sniffing crack behind my back. Before he killed someone.

I'm finishing up with Mr. Heyward and Rafe is here to pick me up. He's in a terrible mood and doesn't even have the decency to say hello to Mr. Heyward. Pope and the blonde haired boy I saw before are waiting behind Mr. Heyward and smirking at each other as Rafe glares at them. I say bye to Mr. Heyward and Pope and Rafe and I make our way to the dock before sitting down and talking. Before everything, Rafe and I could talk for hours about anything. Now, I'm sure there's nothing we could agree on. He tells me about the argument he had with his dad and how he felt as if he was a disappointment. I reassure Rafe he's not but then I hear him say something scary.

"Callie, I'd kill someone just to make my dad proud of me."

Suddenly, I'm being taken back to the present where Sarah is yelling at John B. to run and John B. is telling me that I have to take care of Sarah. I'm trying to hold onto that past memory because I don't wanna face the present right now but the pull is so strong that before I can go back to that memory, I'm back.

Sarah runs to the Sheriff who is still bleeding out. I can't comprehend what's happening. I know what my gut is saying so I follow that. My gut tells me to help Sarah, so I do. I get on my knees and take off the scarf around my hair apply pressure to the wound.

Ward is yelling at Rafe and Rafe doesn't answer. He's looking at me and crying. I can't look at him anymore and I focus on the Sheriff.

Tears are falling down my face so fast. I dont think I've ever cried this hard. People have died in my life. But not in front of me.

"Let's go!" Ward yells at us and tries to pick Sarah off the floor and away from the Sheriff.

"What?!" I scream, choking on my tears.

"What's wrong with you?!" Sarah is crying so hard that you can barely understand her.

I dont care what they do, I'm staying here with the Sheriff. They can hurt me all they want, I'm not letting her die.

But then Rafe intervenes and he comes for me, picking me up from the ground so fast that I feel as though I weigh nothing. I'm kicking and screaming to Sarah and the Sheriff. I twist my body enough for Rafe to drop me for a second and I run back to the Sheriff. Ward has a hold of Sarah and is already throwing her in the backseat of Rafe's car. Sarah's screaming for me and I do my best to ignore her because the Sheriff needs my help the most now.

"I'm -" I hiccup, my tears blurry from all the tears. I apply pressure again, more blood gushing my the wound onto my hands. "I'm sorry."

She's looking at me with wide eyes and gasping; from pain or shock I don't know. "...okay."

I know she's trying to say it's not my fault but I don't want to believe that these will be her last words.

Rafe grabs me again and this time I kick his shin harder and I hear him swear and tighten his grip. "Stop Callie!"

"You murderer!" I'm screaming so loud that my throat hurts. I want to claw Rafe's eyes out.

My disbelief has turned to anger.

Rafe opens the door to the passenger seat and throws me onto the chair where he struggles to put on my seatbelt. Sarah's seatbelt is on but she still manages to slap Rafe a few times and yells at him to get off me.

Rafe pushes my chest and gets the upper hand because I just got the wind knocked out of me and I'm gasping for air. He buckles my belt and slams the door closed. I try to open the door but that side is locked and before I can try the other side, Rafe has opened the drivers side and sits down to drive. He doesn't even buckle his seatbelt, he just puts the car in reverse.

I look in front of us and I see Ward using the radio to call the police. I pray to God that maybe the Sheriff will be fine. Maybe she'll live to say Rafe murdered her. If not, I know Sarah and I will.

"Why'd shoot her?!" I yell at Rafe as he drives down a back street, the airplane no longer in view.

"She was gonna kill my dad." Rafe says, very calm. It was like he was in a trance; almost not comprehending himself that he shot someone. "Ya, she was trying to shoot dad, so I protected him." It seemed he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Are you insane?" Sarah yells from the back. "She was arresting dad!"

"No! Rafe looks away from the road and to Sarah. "If I wasn't there, dad would've died. I saved him."

This time, when I heard that, I looked away from the road. "Are you fucking crazy?! Your dad is a killer!"

Rafe looks at me and I can see the redness in his face. "I'm the boss now! You're gonna listen to me!"

I say nothing. He's crazy. I'm speechless.

"You hear me!" He pauses, but I say nothing. Rafe grabs my wrist and squeezes hard. I yelp, tears brimming in my eyes again.

Sarah yells at Rafe to stop but he's only squeezing tighter.

"Yes!" I scream, tears streaming down my face. "Rafe you're -"

"Rafe! Look!"

Before I can tell him he's crazy again, Sarah is pointing to the road. Rafe and I both look at the same time and we see that Rafe has shifted to the other side of the road. Rafe swerves back violently and Sarah and I both look at eachother. We need to escape. When we get to the house, we need to devise of a plan to escape.

"I'm the boss now!" Rafe yells at us. Again, it seems like he's trying to convince himself.

~

"I'm sure John B., Kiara, Pope, and JJ are coming to get us." Sarah says as she paces around her room.

We've been locked in Sarah's room for one hour and we still have not heard anything from Rafe or Ward on how the Sheriff is doing. Ward has not returned home yet but Rafe is downstairs packing up John B.'s clothes because apparantly he's not coming back. I wanted to argue with him and tell him after this neither am I, but I was scared of him. He had just shot someone and who's to say he won't shoot me.

"Yeah," I nod, reassuring Sarah even though I didn't know if that was true. John B. was running from Ward and Rafe, I don't think he'd want to come to them.

Before Sarah could go on, we both heard the lock of the door turn. We both turned around and sat on Sarah's bed, scared to know who was on the other side.

Ward opened the door slowly and then closed it quickly behind him. He looked tired. He had been obsessing over Big John's death and the Royal Merchant for so long, I'm sure he hadn't gotten a good nights rest in a year. Maybe more. Now with Rafe shooting the Sheriff, I didn't know if he was ever going to sleep again.

"What's gonna happen to Rafe?" Sarah asked, skipping her usual politeness.

I watched as Ward slowly moved closer to us and sat at the edge of the bed, sighing and rubbing his eyes before looking at us.

"Nothing." He said, looking at me for a moment before saying, "I called your parents and told then you're sleeping over -"

"I don't care." I cut Ward off, bitterly crossing my hands over my chest. My tank top was bloody and I only had time to wash my hands. "Why is nothing gonna happen to Rafe?"

Ward sighed. "Life is complicated. It's not back and white."

Sarah scoffed. "It's Rafe's fault that the Sheriff is shot."

"Actually," Ward got up and turned his back to us, walking closer to the door. "She's dead."

Sarah and I looked at eachother. We both knew what this meant. Rafe was now a murderer.

In the distance Sarah and I heard police sirens. I looked to the window. As Sarah continued to argue with her dad, I watched dozens of police cars drive past Sarah's house, as if they were looking for someone. Then it clicked.

I looked back at Ward, who now had the door opened. "You told them John B. did it, didn't you?"

Ward's eyes widened slightly. He then looked at me. "You girls need to rest. It's been a long day." And with that, he slammed the door.

I stood up from the bed and rushed to the door, praying that maybe Ward forgot to lock it and this was our chance out. I wasn't that lucky. I turned the doorknob but to no avail, the door was locked.

"Hey!" I screamed. "Let us out Ward!"

"Rafe killed her." Sarah whispered in disbelief.

I stopped turning the doorknob for a minute and looked to Sarah, who was still sitting on the bed, silent tears falling down her face.

"Sarah," I said, rushing to her side and hugging her. "We're gonna get out of here and save John B. and clear his name. Focus on that now."

Tap. Tap.

I looked to the where I heard the noise and saw Kiara crouching down on the roof. She had her hair back and was smiling at us as she continued to lightly tap on the window.

"It's Kiara!" I smiled, letting go of Sarah, who now was looking at the window.

Sarah and I got up from the bed and rushed to the window. We both took turns trying to open the window but it was glued shut. Kiara tried on her side as well but it was no use. She held up her finger as Sarah and I were trying again as a way of saying wait.

We instantly stopped and watched as Kiara turned around and called for someone down below. She then looked back at us and gave us a thumbs up.

In seconds, the blonde haired boy I had seen on the airplane strip whose name I now knew was JJ, was on the roof as well and was helping Sarah with the window.

It became apparent that this window was not opening and Kiara and JJ were out of options.

JJ looked to me and waved, and I smiled slightly and waved back. I had never spoken to JJ but now I was sure he looked familiar. He had been the idiot who was holding the gun on the beach that night at the party and scared everyone half to death. Rafe had told me what a delinquent he was and I believed him. Now, I wasn't so sure. Anything Rafe said now I couldn't believe.

JJ was trying to speak to me but I couldn't understand him. I knew he couldn't yell or else Rafe or Ward might find them so he could only whisper. I held up my finger to say wait and I quickly walked to Sarah's desk, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and wrote we'll find another way out. Where do we meet?

I brought the paper to the window and showed it to Kiara and Rafe who then looked at themselves, spoke a few words to eachother and then looked back to us.

Kiara took out her phone, typed something in and then showed it to us.

7pm, JJ's house?

Sarah and I both nodded. JJ looked to me and smiled. I didn't know why but I could feel myself blushing.

Get it together Callie. This is not the time to have a crush.

Kiara and JJ then waved goodbye and jumped off the roof. Sarah and I watched as they met up with Pope and ran off, the darkness swallowing them whole.

"Do you know where JJ lives?" I ask. I had never been to his house but I guessed that Sarah did.

"Yeah." Sarah nodded, moving away from the ground and toward the center of her room. "We're gonna walk right out of here."

I followed Sarah to the center of her room and watched as she kneels down and pulls the vent off the floor. She then digs her hand into the vent and starts looking for something.

"How?" I asked, watching over her as she dig her hand deeper into the vent. I could not think what she could be looking for. What could she have hid in a vent?

Finally, Sarah pulls out a plastic cup with a string attached to it. She looks up at me and smiles for the first time all day.

"With my sister's help."

#jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x callie #jj x oc #jj maybank #kiara outer banks #outer banks #pope heyward #pope outer banks #john b routledge #john b #sarah outer banks #sarah cameron #obx netflix #obx #obx fanfiction

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 6th, Sunday 11:13

„Oh, wait here!“

Isa stood on the last step of the stairs, Jens almost running into her, as she whipped around unconcerned by the three people behind her stopped in their tracks.

„I want to go in first. I need to see everyones reaction up close.“ She grinned. „Preferably with a camera pointed at them. I hope they aren’t boring.“ The girl exclaimed cheerfully, Lucas snorting next to him.

„Sure, go ahead, I guess.“ Jens gave her the consent for the single reason that he really liked her. They had talked so much more yesterday over tea. And though she was a bit weird at times, she was just full of live and always giggling about something.

„Thank you! “

„Can I go with you?“ Lotte asked with puppy eyes, looking up at the older girl. The two of them had really bonded over the last day, apparently they had found each other’s similar love for food. Or maybe she just didn’t wanted to be ignored again, like on friday. Very plausible in Jens‘s eyes.

Isa nodded immediately, with a big smile on her face, reprocreated by his sister in turn.

„When Lotte and me are in, you two can come over as well.“

It was decided apparently by Isa without time for questions, as she took Lotte’s hand and vanished around the corner and down the balcony leading to the different apartments.

„Just to give you a heads up. My friends don’t have a Robbe or Sander, so I’m not sure how they’d react. They can be a lot. But everyone is cool with Ralph. Still I apologise in advance.“

Jens shut his boyfriend off with a kiss, his expression being one of ease hopefully did enough to take some Lucas‘s nervousness.

He had a big group of friends as well, he could handle it.

Isa and Lotte were loudly greeted by whoever was at the door. His sister happily introducing herself withoit a word why she was with Isa. Who continued to simply tell the person to wait and see.

Lucas cautiously stuck his head around the corner by the stairs to get a better view and then pulled Jens over to the still open door of the apartment.

Here they‘d go.

A young man with strikingly bleached hair stood in the hallway, smiling brightly at them with a friendly greeting on his lip, until he noticed them holding hands. That was the exact moment his face lit up in exorbitant wonder, like a child in disneyland.

„I’m Ralph.“ The man simply said after he noticed that it might become a bit awkward to stand silently in the entrance. Nonetheless still gleefully facsinated by the whole situation. „Come on in.“

So this was the guy Isa had been talking about, the one Lucas texted. Jens questioned if his boyfriend actually had a type. With Kes he could see a resemblance, with Ralph not so much.

„Thank you. Jens, by the way.“ He introduced himself, having caught up with his thoughts.

And then he questioned if he should stop taking things so lightly.

Because when they entered the flat and Jens suddenly was aware of the sheer amount of voices reaching them, it definitely was something else entirely. At least he knew now, how it probably must have felt like for anyone new, like Maxime or Lucas, to join his group.

„Stop. No.“

He heard Lucas telling off the older guy behind him, giggling at something Jens hadn’t caught, too busy slipping out of his coat in order to hang it with all the others. Jens was about to ask Lucas about it. But instead he was pushed into the doorway leading to the livingroom, completely packed by people lounging on the sofas and occupying the floor. Suddenly a dozen pairs of eyes looking at him.

He noted Kes sitting on a sofa askew to the door, next to another boy and now joined on his other side by Lotte nd Isa, who actually had her phone out.

„Hello, everyone. Uhm, my name is Jens, I’m Lotte’s brother.“ He pointed towards her as he went on. „And I’ll probably forget half of your names instantly. So sorry for that already.“

„He forgot to say that he is also my boyfriend.“ Lucas added, a bit quieter, having swallowed down any doubt he may have had before. This boy was so brave. Jens could only hope to sound or look as casual, once the situation would arise in his group.

There was a pause. Half of the faces stunned in amazed wonder, the others in shocked confusion.

In between them a table packed to the brim by all sorts of breakfast variations. Eggs in any firm and shape, grilled sausages and vegetables, salads, bread and much more.

One girl though, sitting on the second sofa across the room, with similar brown curly hair, just a bit darker, squeaked. Til now she had been cuddled against the side of a boy, who she practically hit straight acoss the chest, before getting up. The poor boy left to rub the spot through his shirt, his face somewhere between amusement and pain.

„I’m so happy for you.“ She declared as she walked up to them and took first Lucas and then also Jens into her arms for a hug. This girl was apperently Liv. The second mysterious person knowing about Lucas beforehand.

„You are all boring.“ Isa said disappointed, putting her phone back down.

„Wait. This isn’t a joke?“ A boy next to Kes suddenly announced in his realisation, his grin falling from his lips, to land on some complicated emotion, Jens wasn’t quite able to pinpoint exactly. It looked rather grossed out. Which would be a first and certainly didn’t feel great to receive.

Turning his head to make sure, his boyfriend was okay, as it was his friend, he only found Lucas rolling back his eyes, sighing annoyed. So maybe he had expected it? 

Jens didn’t quite get it.

„No. It’s not a joke, Jayden.“

„Damn I had been right not to share a bed with you.“ The boy huffed a laugh next to Kes, who without hesitation smacked him across the back of his head. Hard and merciless. Everyone seemed to agree with a lack for sympathy, and that Jayden had brought it apon himself deservedly so.

„Nah, Luc. This is just fucking wierd. But I’m living with Ralph, I get to see random naked men’s asses at least twice a month. So it’s alright. Still, I don’t get it.“

„So Lucas is gay?“ Suddenly, out of nowhere a flimsy voice exclaimed, everyone’s attention turning towards a blond petite looking girl sitting on the floor, with big Bambi eyes.

„Yes Engel., looks like it“ A girl next to her with a Bandana and red coloured hair confirmed, laughing at her friend as she patted the blonde head, who’s whole expression turned from confusion to excitment.

„That’s so cool! I always wanted a gay best friend.“

„Engel.“

The combined reply of all of Lucas’s friends echoed through the flat.

„Hello, I was here before?!“ The hurt in pretence broke through, everyone watching Ralph, who looked back at the girl on the floor accusatory, before laughter filled the room.

All of them welcoming the two boys to join them around the table and finally starting to eat. The girl called Esra immediately pouring everyone tea and coffee.

Jens was a but lost at how quick everyone was talking and joking. The topic of Jens bring Lucas‘s boyfriend accepted and forgotten, treated as an everyday thing.

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

#week 7 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded #damn guys #but sorry this is not my favourite #😓 #utrecht

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Amnesia - Hearts ~ Aug 4.

Malignant emptiness had secured reign over your heart. Slowly it spread throughout your system, beginning its quest to contaminate the liquid coursing through your veins. Not a single atom would be spared – each memory attached to your skin would be vanquished. The simplest touches to the warmth of your best friend, nothing would remain. Any efforts to combat the virus plaguing you was futile; you were no match for the craftsmanship of an ethereal being. As your final memory was seized by the excruciating cleanse, the person you once were ceased to exist. Born anew, y/n, welcome to your game.

The sound of foreign voices engaged in casual conversation had jolted awake your dormant senses. Due to your malfunctioning hippocampus, your face had naturally scrunched up as fragments of still-shots flickered inside of your head, resembling a filmstrip with numerous punctures. The only image that persisted long after the others incinerated was of a bed-headed male crouched on a staircase, with his face buried in his hands. It was the same male that regarded you with such concern the second your eyelids had fluttered open.

“She’s awake.” Within seconds, the droopy eyed stranger was at your side, his irises searched yours for any sign of injury, while yours struggled to retain any recognition. “Hey, y/n. How are you feeling?”

That was a valid question, one you were not prepared to answer, not because you did not want to. But because you did not know the answer yourself.

Groggily you pressed your hands on either side of the single mattress, as your elbows threatened to cave in, Kuroo slid an arm around you, stabilizing your movements. Behind him Makoto released a sigh, locating a hand to her forehead as she mumbled a comment about her blood-pressure.

Your heart skipped an involuntary beat the second his fingers connected with the fabric draped over your skin. The sensation, however, was prompted by fear, rather than fondness. Kuroo, who had felt your muscles tense, had removed his arm after confirming you were steady.

“Y/n, honey. Can you say something?” Makoto proceeded a cautious step closer, with a reassuring smile on her lips. “Are you in pain?”

Your y/e/c irises focused on the black-haired girl’s ensemble, searching for any indication of where you were or who you were with. A nametag had revealed her identity along with their location – Jack Rose. A small ache developed in your temples as you repeated the café’s name, striving to instigate any recollection. Using two fingers, you applied pressure to the throbbing location, with your gaze settling on your own uniform. Y/n – employee of Jack Rose was sewn into the right corner.

The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on you. From what you could gather, something had occurred during your shift and now you were experiencing a form of amnesia. Miraculously, the realization had not thrown you into a state of distress. The memories would come back, they would have to... You just needed a trigger.

“I’m okay. Um…Where’s my phone?” The sound of your own voice had startled you – a fact that had chipped away at the little hope you were clinging to. How could you forget yourself? What had happened to you…?

If there was anything that would kick-start your mental processes, it would be past photos or videos. For now, it was vital to discover your relationship to the three people gawking at you.

“She’s asking for her phone, how typical. She’s fine.” Makoto clicked her tongue in distaste, while fetching the device from her apron pocket. “You dropped it when you fainted, silly bird.” She then lobbed the phone towards your lap.

“I don’t know…I still think we shoul’ take her to the hospital.” From the very moment he arrived, Atsumu’s attention had remained secured on you. The older male was tracking your every movement to form mental notes that he could relay if need be to a physician. “What do ya think, ‘surou?”

“If she won’t answer our questions, then we have no choice.” Kuroo’s response did not register as your attention was solely on the smart device held within your palm. The quest to discover your identity began with Twitter – your profile to be exact.

It was strange to say the least to read over your inner thoughts with no recollection. Twitter was in some forms the new generations version of a dairy. What had you meant about acting on your feelings? Feelings for what? Or feelings for who? The guessing game was brought to a pause as an incoming message demanded your attention.

It’s not safe…? The three simple words had punctured your lungs, the air within the confines of the lunchroom could no longer be accepted. Dread etched across your chest, yet the small voice in your head directed you to present yourself as collected.

“Y/n?” Suddenly the blonde male had a palm over your forehead to assess whether you had a fever. During your little exploration, Makoto had exited the room and only the two boys remained.

“I’m fine, guys. But I am a bit tired, do you think I could go home?” A weary smile was forced onto your lips to verify the truth of your words –but it failed to convince either of them.

“You already worked a shift today; I can help in the kitchen. It’s alrigh’. Take her home. But if she doesn’t feel any better, take her to the hospital.” Atsumu lifted his shoulders into a short shrug, the response was evidently directed at the black-haired male who agreed with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go.”

* * *

The journey home was laced with silence, outside of the occasional inquiries from the younger male on your health. He was insistent, you mentally noted, but also endearing. Before leaving Jack Rose, you skimmed through your contacts and following to ascertain the names of those closest to you. The one from earlier was Atsumu – the person you had tweeted about. The girl was Makoto, your co-worker and perhaps one of your best friends. The person who was currently staring at you questionably was Tetsurou. At one point a spark of longing had flashed in his irises, only increasing the guilt hovering over you for forgetting his existence.

Well, if it made him feel any better, you also forgot your own –

“Oi. Where are you going?” Kuroo’s fingers tangled with the fabric of your collar, tugging you a few steps back as you accidentally missed the entrance of your building. “Did you forget where you lived?” The latter part of the sentence was spoken through a slightly higher pitch, demonstrating his growing concern.

“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought.” Artificial laughter bubbled in your throat, irritating your tonsils in the process.

“If something was wrong, you would tell me, right?” His hands found refuge in his jacket pockets, yet his gaze did not waver from yours. Your attempts to reassure him were once again dismissed instantly. Withholding the truth from him was beginning to become more difficult, and you were unsure whether you could – he was incredibly perceptive.

“Yes… I promise. After some sleep, I’ll be brand-new.” Or so you hoped.

“Okay. I’m going to hold you to that.” Truthfully, there was nothing you could say to ease his concerns. But a promise would suffice for now. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen whole minutes until you were able to determine what apartment number was yours. The task would have been much simpler if you checked your ubereats account rather than scrolling through your messages. A small sliver of hope had ignited within your heart when you twisted the key in the lock, perhaps seeing your apartment would trigger a memory or two. Anything would be helpful at this point; you were sincerely grasping at straws.

Instantly any hope that lingered deflated, only to be replaced with frustration. Answers – you needed answers. Retrieving your phone from your bag, you tapped on messages and alerted the one person who knew about your predicament that you were home.

No, this could not be happening. An elaborate joke, maybe, but not the truth. How could you digest this information – how could anyone? A sob clogged the back of your throat as fear washed over your system. Desperate to confirm you were simply stuck in a warped nightmare, you forced yourself to search the apartment for anything that would make sense. If you had to accept this reality, how could you arm yourself without your memories? Who was friend or foe?

It was only when you crumpled onto the ground in defeat when your eyes landed on a charm glimmering under your bedframe. Attached to the dazzling piece was… a dairy. Instinctively, your fingers brushed along the cover before tugging on the string to where the latest entry was written.

                                                                                                             Aug 3rd.

One day will it be different…? Will he wake up and see me differently? Or am I destined to feel this way forever? Ah, unrequited love, the subject of many Shakespearian stories and the source of my latest dilemma. Could he come to love me? See me beyond a sister-figure? The question remains unanswered… and I doubt I shall ever know it. And so, I welcome this bittersweet misery.

Ew, this sounds like a cheesy poem, not a diary entry. I feel sorry for my future self, having to read this garbage. But my problem remains. To be or to not be? Just kidding, this isn’t Hamlet. To tell one of my childhood best friends that I love him or to not? I guess not.

 Amnesia - Hearts ~ Aug 4.

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I really hope the formatting on this didn’t fuck up. someone pls let me know if it did. 

Tag-list: @kara-grayson04 @namyari , @cuddlesslut , @iloveanime691 @shakiraisawesome @idiot-juice-enthusiast@fangirling-25-8 @krynnza @yetchann @chxrry-wxne​ @tsukiak4ri​

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo smau

[ddaenghoney]

chapter two

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): minor intoxication, .

Word count: 5421

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

In the tiny meeting room, you scribble a few notes into a crummy notebook close to the end of untarnished pages. The four other girls are mostly talkative, casual as they look over the two songs found into their group’s use after Jimin’s crew decided against them and to pass on. You care little of the fact, honestly agreeing with the better suitability of the particular songs aligning to this group’s upcoming softer, warmer, early-spring concept.

Their manager exited already, leaving them to utilize the space for lunch while he handled other miscellaneous affairs.

“Ms. Y/N,” Your eyes met the youngest member as she leaned her head closer to the table so you would pay attention to her words. “Are you going to the club later too?” Your eyebrows furrow at the title, wondering why it would not leave no matter how many people you told to remove the formality.

“Doubt it.” You shrug, then tense as the leader of the group makes a shocked gasp, her long black hair whipping as she turns and faces you.

“What? But I wanted to buy you a drink for helping us so much.” She frowns. The expression is joined by the member sitting beside her equally upset. You glance between the two, then the youngest, and the one beside you.

“I,” You pause, thinking of an excuse other than not being interested in seeing Jimin interact with everyone as if he didn’t know you as more than a friend in the company.

“You,” The girl beside you grips on your shoulder, overtaking the sentence, “Could tag along with us.” She smiles meaningfully, and your lips tighten into a line. Frankly you assumed no one would question the absence, seeing as their had yet to be a question to you joining in the nightlife excursion beyond Jimin’s half-hearted inquisition. “Our makeup artist was going to help us get ready here at the company; I bet she’ll do your makeup too, if you want?”

An assistant enters after a knock, arms weighted from two large bags full of food. He sets it down and leaves, waving off the thanks from the members who immediately begin unpackaging.

“It’ll be fun; a lot of new people from the merger are going,” The youngest member explains to you as if creating reasoning for you to agree. She opens the top on a container of freshly cut fruit, and leans it in your direction. You gently shake your head smiling at the offer,

“I don’t know. I haven’t really had a weekend without doing things for work in a while.”

“Even more of a reason!” The leader nods at you with her cheek stuffed with a bite of a large wrap. “Perfect opportunity to let loose and have fun. Besides you’re a writer, I’m sure it’ll be a great way to get inspired, right?”

“I want to get into songwriting too.” The youngest member says across from you. Her other members make dramatic sounds before bumping into each other's' sentences to support her idea, a couple of mutterings here or there about wishing to do the same.

You wonder about it for a moment, trying to recall the amount of songs artists of the company wrote for themselves. You visualize a disparity in the actual self-sufficiency of them all. To the media, it is perceived that the idols contribute greatly, highlighted by the falsified credentials. Really though, most of the production isn’t up to them; across the board you can only think of a few artists or groups who did more of their own work than not. But they are the minor profiles of the company.

Stepping up from your seat, you collect your notebooks into your bag. “I’m going to head out; text me if you guys have any more comments on ideas you want to see in potential comebacks.”

“Wait, you’re not going to eat?” The member sitting beside you gestures her utensil to the food prepared. It wasn’t ordered for you in the first place, and considering how much these girls work on their performance aspect, you didn’t want to take the calories from them.

“No, I ate breakfast late, so it’s fine.” You wave to them as you walk to the door, trying to reply to their goodbyes with some of your own. Happy you avoided the topic of the club, but contemplative of the lingering thoughts building in your head about their desires to try and create songs independently.

They would undoubtedly need to okay from the company for any production to happen, but did the same need to be said of yourself?

“Oh, good timing,” The door shuts behind you as a voice to your left calls out. Turning to the person, you catch your sight instantly on light blonde locks arranged in slight waves on top of Min Yoongi’s head. They were black days before when you bumped into him last. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

You become aware of the box he’s balancing in one hand and the cylindrical container tucked under the other arm. Though the idea of help isn’t foreign, you can’t help but glance past yourself to see if he was talking to someone else. “Uh, yeah sure,” You agree, reaching as he gives you the light, lengthy container. “I’m sorry for bumping into you the other day, by the way.”

“Oh, was that you?” Yoongi asks you as you follow his pace down the hall, the box repositioned in front of his torso now. The words are calm, genuine in the lack of memory. Somehow the fact makes you nibble the side of your tongue while your gaze hardens in consideration towards the back of his head. A pair of headphones are useless around his neck, bumping into the subtle bounce of his hair with each step. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably busy running around this place all day.”

You wonder if Yoongi remembers any other times you had interacted with one another. The very first time he seemed more reclusive than how he is in front of you now. During a tour of the building with his shoes following the CEO and her assistant around, you remember their group intersecting with you and Jimin moments before you left that day. He only said a greeting to you both then, despite the clear desire made by Yerin for more casual conversation to occur between Yoongi, his previous company’s golden face, and Jimin who ranks high in the charts since his debut as well.

“So,” Your mouth opens in the quiet that begins to feel uncomfortable when your memory paints the picture of his evasive hardened expression during that first interaction. An attempt to try and patch up any awkwardness that you got around him came out as you asked with an uncertain tone, “This place nicer than the last building?”

Yoongi doesn’t reply right away, not even with a nonverbal queue. You begin thinking he ignored you, especially because your walk behind him led you with no way to see an expression. With that in mind, you look down at the object he asked you to carry along, contemplating an apology for no reason.

“It’s hard to remember the layout.” Yoongi speaks thoughtfully, and you look back up at him. “I guess that’s just because I’m used to the old place.” His voice drifts with that line, softer and if you let yourself assume you would say he seems downcast. “My studio’s bigger here though.” In a way it sounds like he’s weighing his pros to the cons, only happenstance allowing his statement to be timed as an answer to your inquiry. “Ah, but this place isn’t bad.” A cover-up. Quicker spoken than before and Yoongi glances back towards you as his pace slows slightly. He speaks when you reach his side, “Have you worked here long?”

“I guess almost five years at this point.” You answer absently, curious about the change in his replies along the way. Yoongi nods, looking ahead as he comments,

“Long time. Assistants are treated pretty well here, huh?”

You stop in his tracks as the words flow in your ears. Yoongi continues one, two more steps then pauses as well, turning back to face you. Confusion growing in the furrow of his brows and slightly pouting lip. Your expression is certainly incredulous, and you almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of his perspective. “I’m not an assistant.”

His lips part to speak, but he doesn’t, pondering what about the misunderstanding was causing your face to become visibly frustrated, and your tone to become entirely vexed. Nevertheless, Yoongi faces you properly, bowing his head a little as he speaks, “Ah, I’m sorry. I guess because I always see you with the artists, I thought you were.”

His explanation is fair and you know it. That irritates you the most. Your grip on his item grows more forceful from the frustration, but you sigh to release the senseless anger aiming at his innocent container.

“Then,” Yoongi begins again, though your gaze drifting towards the floor between you both makes him wish he stopped before the next innocent question drifts from his mouth, “Are you dating Jimin-”

“No.” You’re quick to deflate the claim. Yoongi pauses at the rather loud statement that cut into Jimin’s name matching the glare in your eyes when they flick back to him. Your head shakes and you continue walking, “Where’s your studio?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you; I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. You wouldn’t know, why would you?” You ramble, eyes searching from plaque to plaque as if you also forgot the layout of the company. “I work here, though. I’m not some random person.” You felt a strong desire to yell the fact, or throw the cylinder in your hand if only to release how annoying it is that he, or anyone, has no reason or way to know whom you are.

“Ah, so,” Yoongi’s stuttering slightly as he thinks of something to say that won’t further serve to irritate you, “What do you do here then?” He briefly considers the idea that you are someone incredibly important and perhaps even someone he should not be acting so casually with, but your abrupt groan pushes him against that. If only because you seem genuinely unable to answer him, but Yoongi couldn’t think of a reason why.

The companies merged, you know that, and Yoongi would be under every legal obligation to not blab to the public about your position as a prominent songwriter in the company that is to remain unnamed in every way. However, you don’t want to say it. In your mind every thought wishes he already knows about you, but that is completely unfair considering reality.

“This one’s your studio?” You come across the door with a scribbled paper taped to it reading SUGA. The design clearly short-term, but as long as you could get away from the embarrassment of having to explain your stupidity in how you are involved with the company, you don’t care. “I help in song production.”

Yoongi notices the spite in your statement, but doesn’t comment on the fact as you place his packaged artwork against the wall. The corner of his lip bunches back into his cheek in consideration, but you’re oblivious to his visible discomfort of how he has upset you. He watches you stare at the stage name presented on the door to signify it being his space and wonders why he believes he sees a longing in your eyes.

“Thanks for helping me.” Yoongi says instead of anything else. He doesn’t know you. It’s not his place, and frankly not something he feels the need to bother with. Considering the amount of unloading that remains to make this place feel anything remotely like the last, he would rather the situation end. In any case, he figures that you want him to stop talking about anything regarding you any further.

You only nod losing focus of the room he has earned with a title to prove it as you glimpse back towards Yoongi to offer a small polite smile. You wave your hand and say goodbye, feigning the energy of contentment and hoping none of the envy prickling in your chest pokes through your irises. If it does, Yoongi doesn’t mention it and begins entering into his studio after you walk back from where you came from.

The second time in the same week that you can’t speak properly for yourself and it has your throat teeming with frustration. Maybe Namjoon is right, maybe you should leave once the contract is over. But then what? You’re in the elevator staring at the number listing the floor become lower. If you leave you’re sure to start from the ground up with nothing able to go on your resume other than vague mentions of song production like you mentioned to Yoongi. Sure, you could dress the phrasing and use the five years to make it sound moderately impressive, but why should you?

The glistening tiles you step on in this building that everyone moved into a year and a half ago were purchased through your efforts. The songs that chart, the artists that are gaining acclaim with every passing day, even the mixing on a good number of songs were all thanks to you. SoundWave Entertainment’s drastic rise in success is due to a handful of people, but you’re one of them. The world just didn’t know that.

What would happen if they did?

“You’ll get sued.” Namjoon’s voice is flat through the speaker. You scoff at the fact, blending foundation while trying not to glare at your reflection. “Sorry,” Now sheepish, but unapologetic despite his words. Realistic. “Even if you tell the press afterwards, I don’t think another company would pick you up-”

“Why?” You interrupt actually shocked at him then. You wait for Namjoon to answer while he’s clearly drifted into telling one of his employees something about a reservation for the following week.

“Even if you’re in the right to have everyone know you wrote all of those songs-- produced some entirely too,” Namjoon begins again calmly, though he’s drawing scribbles on the margin of his calendar while he explains his perception. “If you’re the one who talks to the media about it, any other company is going to think you’re unloyal. Also, you’re going to lose your royalties from all the stuff you’ve made because that’s a part of the deal. You can’t say anything.”

There’s silence that follows. Namjoon allows you to have it, knowing his words didn’t set you at ease or uplift you in the slightest. But with you starting the call by telling him you intend to go to the club party this evening, he feels like you shouldn’t go in completely impulsive. Especially with how set against the event you had been up until that phone call.

“Start over completely then, huh?” Rhetorical tone. Sadder too. Namjoon frowns at his desk. “It’s what I get for signing the contract then. I just wanted something to help with college crap, and look where it got me.” He listens to you sigh, tapping the tip of his pen on the square in the calendar for the current day.

“Yerin took advantage of you.” His voice is icy; conviction unwavering for if you try to give yourself anymore blame. “It’s not like you won’t get work elsewhere.” A pause because he knows the idea implies practically starting over just as you said. “Or… You could try getting the contract adjusted when it’s time to renew.”

“What if,” You dip a small brush against a shade of eyeshadow. Your voice is deceptively calm given the severity of your sentence, “She won’t even want to renew?”

“Why?” Now Namjoon is thrown off from your words. He couldn’t remember a story about yourself in the company that could logically warrant dropping you.

“Min Yoongi works there now too.” You pause before beginning to apply the eyeshadow. His repertoire crosses through your mind. “Songwriter, producer,” You scoff, “Plus he’s actually an idol.”

“He’s not going to let them use any of his stuff without credit though.” Namjoon cancels the worry he hears seeping into your voice. “They’ll still want their idols to look self-sufficient and he’s not going to play along with no credit. You know what he’s like.”

Namjoon is referring to the stoic persona pictured in magazines, and the straight-forward answers in interviews. The captionless posts on Instagram, and passively-aggressive tweets. The newly bleached hair that you believe will look just as imposing in paparazzi shots as his previously black style.

You consider the instant apologies Yoongi gave you hours earlier and the thanks. You remember him trying, and failing, to change the topic of conversation into something that would even out your lowering disposition.

“Yeah, I doubt he’d let them walk all over him.” You murmur, recollecting your thoughts to finish your makeup. “It’s just me that didn’t consider the long-term problems in that contract.” You’re laughing cynically while Namjoon audibly huffs on the other side. Slapping the palette shut, you scoot the chair of your desk back and rise. “I’m no doubt going to end up at your place sometime tonight.”

“I’ll let you use the bed instead of Jin then.” Namjoon says already imagining the ear full to be received from Seokjin at the prospect. The bed in question is still in a couch-form across the room from Namjoon. “Call me if anything weird happens, okay?”

“I will.” You leave the phone on your desk, calling loudly as you step away to the closet.

“And,” Namjoon hesitates, biting his lip. The tension doesn’t lessen when you ask him what he wanted. “Don’t let anything about Jimin get you down tonight, if you can avoid it.”

You pull out the dress to wear as Namjoon’s request completes. His tone is utterly soft and you know it comes from the best intentions, but it scrapes your ears to hear it. Namjoon likes Jimin, knows you like Jimin too much, and doesn’t like the relationship you and Jimin have. Believes it won’t work for either of you with how it is. You waver in agreement, but you always tell him it’s nothing to worry about.

“Doubt I’ll even run into him. People to impress and all.” You don’t specify, but Namjoon rightfully assumes you’re referring to Jimin.

Like other parties organized by SoundWave, there’s some chaos going on outside of the club. Under the cold December air, eager partygoers arrange themselves in the queue, groups of friends huddled closer to shield from any brisk air. You imagine by midnight the majority of those unable to get in will have left to other venues, but you unfortunately don’t think the same for the few cameramen set up around the street. They’re hoping for something scandalous as if they forgot the whole event is sponsored by an idol company; it’s ridiculous to assume anything surprising will happen where all the celebrities are aware of their presence.

You pass the queue on the sidewalk, clutch in hand while you hurry from the taxi to indoors where it’ll undoubtedly be warmer than outside. Your name is on the list and you roll your eyes at the fact that this is the extent of where your reputation gets broadcasted. Disregarding any of the questioning voices from those around you, you simply walk inside and let them assume whatever about your identity in relationship to the celebrity world. The coat counter is a small mess of people trying to sign in their items, and you’re grateful that you opted against the outerwear.

“Y/N!” Your eyes don’t have time to survey the colorful, loud room before a familiar voice catches your focus. Seokjin waves at you while exiting from behind the main bar, keeping his clear drink level as he meets you. “You did show up after all, huh?” He halfway hugs you, then begins in the walk back towards the bar, sipping gingerly at his martini.

“You know, I get impulsive when I’m spiteful.” You say jovially, smiling when the words cause him to laugh.

“Like when you dyed your hair because I joked-- very jokingly said I couldn’t imagine you doing it.” He shakes his head when you nod proudly at the memory, though the blue lasted about a month before you needed to go to a hairdresser to fix that mess you made. “What’ll you have? Remember you don’t have to pay for anything while you’re here-- well, don’t get the giant bottles of champagne though, those things are kind of pricey.”

“I’m not trying to dry out your supply, don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up and goes to mix you a drink you didn’t specify but as he reaches for the bourbon, you know he remembers your usual anyways. You thank him for the icy drink then very gently clink yours to his and take a long sip. A small burn in the throat that’s mostly warm. “You see anyone interesting so far?”

“I don’t know.” Seokjin shrugs, setting his empty glass down and you watch it quickly be whisked away by a dishwashing employee. “I feel like celebrities start to all look the same when I’m here all the time.” He leans his elbows onto the counter, smirking softly as he speaks, “By the way, I’ve seen quite a few looks in your direction since you walked in. Winning outfit tonight.”

Seokjin’s coy expression grows into amusement when your eyes widen from his words. Your hands shift a bit tighter around your glass as the single piece of ice floats to the top. You glance over your shoulder in wonder, biting back any satisfaction from your expression, but Seokjin knows better. “Hey, quit playing it off; you know you look hot, I saw your instagram story post-”

“Can you not?” You laugh at him and he joins in. Fitting a thanks to a bartender that gave him a new martini, he continues in his laughter while you go on. “So you liked the picture, huh?”

“I sent you the heart emoji face.” He grins, content with your relaxation as you take another drink. You shrug off his words.

“Excuse me,” The familiarly light voice drifts in your senses, as the seat next to yours becomes occupied. Your eyes find Jimin’s as he makes himself comfortable. Dusty rose colored hair styled up out of his face, and his lips are as springlike when he smiles gently at you, then turns his attention to Seokjin. “Can I order a drink?”

“He’s the owner.”

“I’m the owner.” You and Seokjin speak over each other, making him scoff, then continue as Jimin’s obscured hand finds the top of your thigh where your dress ends. A beat in your heart feels heavier. “But yeah, I can get you something. Jimin, right?”

“Yeah, and thanks. Gin and tonic, please.” Jimin speaks respectfully, turning his hand upwards as yours searches for his. Seokjin casts you a glance, noticing your very small shrug, he walks down the bar refraining from laughter. “You came?” He turns on the stool to face you, letting his boot settle on the footrest of your seat beside your heel.

“You can see me can’t you?” Your teasing earns his hand to squeeze your own. The action creates a ripple in your chest, growing larger as Jimin smiles wider.

“Lovely, don’t tease me. I’m just happy you’re here; I didn’t think you’d come.” You nod, but think against telling him about the reasoning behind your change of mind.

“Just thought why not.” You say simply, biting your lip as Seokjin places a drink beside Jimin. Seokjin then points his middle and index fingers to his eyes then towards you as he steps off once more.

“Did I interrupt something potential?” Jimin asks you catching the final bit of the actions. His tone is slightly lower than before, clearly curious above all.

“Friend of mine.” You settle any of his worries, even though there isn’t a defined obligation to do so. Jimin raises an eyebrow, surprised for a moment before eventually nodding,

“Ah, that’s right. Jin is this Seokjin.” He continues to nod, rubbing his neck with his hand sheepishly. You smirk softly and he sees it. “What?”

“Jealous?” Your tone drips with a joking sound, to ensure him that he didn’t need to take you seriously, but a piece of you hopes he would.

“Not jealous,” He says easily, eyes drifting to his untouched drink and you nod. As expected. “Maybe if he made you laugh longer.” You look at him. His expression is contemplative towards his drink. Calm, but something about it feels feigned. Jimin finds your eyes, losing himself for a second in the focus of your own. He scoots towards you, knee grazing yours as his face leans to speak tiny vibrations to your ear, “Why don’t we go to the VIP booths, baby?”

---

The majority of the crowds and dancing occurs on the ground level, while offset by half a story exists the VIP area that privately overlooks the club. Nothing particularly luxurious about it, other than its own set of employees to take orders for drinks. The nights you and Namjoon came with friends, Seokjin allows your group to use one, and you’re used to the tinted glass wall that filters away some of the pulsating music. Jimin mentions some other idols from the company being a part of the group with him that use the table he sits with you at, but also them all being far more interested in partying to be there for any longer than makeup touch-ups or a glass of water.

The knowledge makes the five drinks ingested throughout the next couple of hours hit differently. You know he’s had a similar amount of alcohol, but like you you don’t get affected as vigorously as other people. Nevertheless the lull in your head makes the slow kisses more frequent than other times when you and him were out in public together.

“I like this dress.” Jimin says as his hand runs along your side, feeling the smooth material against his skin and the small fidget of your waist when your grip settles along your hip. A smirk plays along his lips that end up against your neck, languidly pressing ministrations to the skin. “I’m glad you came.”

“I was thinking you didn’t really care if I did.” You admit though you gasp softly, gripping the silk of his top when his mouth travels over a sensitive spot. Jimin hums in thought, feeling your grip tighten from the sensation, then more so when he nibbles at the skin, sucking with the intent to leave it a reminding blotch,

“Of course I want to see you whenever I can.” Jimin says simply, almost a stung timbre in the words, as he pulls away finding your gaze for a passing moment then kissing your lips softly like words aren’t enough for him. You arms stray to wrap around his neck, letting him tug you closer to lengthen the kiss until you’re short of breath. “Did you say that because we haven’t been able to go on a date lately?”

Your chest rises and falls as it takes in air, arms remaining positioned around Jimin while he keeps his grip protective on your waist. Eyes searching through yours with worry cracking through. “No,” You shake your head, pecking his lips gently. “I was just saying something dumb. It’s been a weird week and all.”

“With,” Jimin’s voice stutters while he recalls everything that’s gone on the past week. “It was just the meeting, wasn’t it, baby?” He frowns when your eyes avoid his face to favor a stare towards the table. “Hey,” A hand cups your cheek, coaxing you to look back towards him as concern presents itself, “Lovely, you don’t have to hide things from me. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t.” Flatly said. Jabbing at Jimin’s composure as he feels you metaphorically pulling away from him. “It’s nothing important.”

Nothing you think he’ll want to talk about. Jimin doesn’t like talking about your contract, he’s never let that topic stick around for more than a couple of back and forth sentences. If your growing dissatisfaction with your treatment is something he truly cares about, he would’ve spoken in your favor. You swallow air at the swordlike thought.

“If something’s bothering you-” You both startle as boots clack directly behind you. Shifting from Jimin he lets his hands fall from you when you move away. Turning to look over your shoulder you watch blonde hair walk away from you two, down the stairs towards the main floor. You smile bitterly, finding this whole thing ridiculous as you mumble,

“I have to hide making my songs, and I have to hide being with you.”

“Y/N-”

“We should call it quits for tonight, right?” You look back at Jimin wondering if the stinging in your eyes is visible to him. His expression appears to be at a loss, lips a line, and his hands clenching.

“Why are you bringing all that up?” Your heart drops at the question, and the disconnect from him continues as Jimin appears to grow stoic.

“You asked me if something was wrong, and then you say that?” Your voice feels hot and you sigh hoping it’ll help alleviate pressure in your throat. You remove yourself from the booth thinking he may stop you, but Jimin stays still watching you grab your clutch. “I don’t like how things are right now.”

Despite the vague pronoun, Jimin registers the firmness in your voice, and how you’re visibly upset with more than just his insensitive question. He bites his inner cheek, watching you take the first step away before he’s bolting from the booth to grab your hand.

“Baby,” His pleading tone makes the stinging in your eyes more unbearable. “Please don’t go. Let’s talk-”

“If I tell you I hate my contract what are you going to say?” You don’t look at him when the questions trembles from your lips in frustration that fizzes painfully in your head. “That,” You feel his grip loosen before you’re able to continue, “You’re going to help me change it?”

You hear the lively voices, and a fast-paced song dominating the air, but Jimin behind you remains quiet. Tugging your arm from his grasp takes little effort, like he was ready to let go. Let you leave. Unwilling to answer and put truth in the air.

You want to know why when you turn to face him but Jimin’s expression stops your open mouth from speaking. Like he’s resigned to himself, eyes matching with yours to show hardened seriousness. You step towards him while he follows your movement, looking down at you. He’s successful at hiding from you how much his heart hurts at the sight of your building tears.

“Jimin,” The tremble in your voice stabs into his mind more, a pensive barely there frown the only thing that lets you into his thoughts at all. “Don’t you think I deserve to have my name in the credits?”

His shoulders shrug uncertainly and still not a word. You’re unable to understand why he closes away every time this discussion comes up. Why is he on the side of Yerin to keep things as they are? A bud in your brain feels pulsing at the thorn of implications that question could lead to and it makes you feel desperate for something out of him.

Jimin’s palm finds your waist to stable himself when your hands reach for his top to pull him towards you, lips attaching themselves to one another if only to get him to remember that he cares about you despite whatever ridiculous persona he’s trying to play at. Kissing him makes him responsive and it’s as though he’s letting the hidden emotions out; you feel the longing as he tugs you closer to him so that your body is pressed to his and he’s hugging you.

When your tear connects with his cheek Jimin pulls away, a surprised expression mixing into his longer breaths for air. You let the next few droplets leave your eyes, because he didn’t break the wall gaping between you two. You release your hands from his shirt and walk away.

Jimin lets you.

if you enjoy please, please let me know! i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​

#bts #park jimin #min yoongi #jimin imagines #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #jimin fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jimin series #yoongi series #bts series #bts angst #jimin angst #yoongi angst #jimin fluff #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #all #series veil

[vanillamilkcloud]

UNDER THE TREE || RM

pairing: Single Dad! RM x Baker! Reader

word count: 2,497

tags: fluff, some cookies were burnt, flour got in some spots, theres hot cocoa, domestic as hell, christmas obviously.

summary: after a visit to their favorite baker, Namjoon cant wrap presents for his boys. so with snagging your number some previous hours ago he decides to call for some help.

Kids were always hard, no matter what anyone did to try and help. Especially having two and also being a single dad. Though Namjoon had a way with the two that almost everyone wished they had with their kids. He had coaxed the boys into waking up this morning only to have them instantly asking about going to the bakery. It had become a sort of routine, once a week he’d show up at the door and instantly Hoseok would babble about everything he wanted while Yoongi pointed to things while hiding behind Namjoon’s leg. 

And that was exactly your situation right now. Covered in flour, and some frosting on your cheek, standing behind the counter of the store.

“I want this and this and a cake pop and cake!” Hoseok giggled happily, his gloved hands pressed against the glass happily. Namjoon looked at you apologetically before glancing at what his son wanted.

“Cookie, you know you cant have all of that-” The blonde male had only started to speak before he saw you walking around the counter, handing the 4 year old a cake pop. At 8am, might you add. His baby voice was too hard to resist giving the sweets to him.

“Says who?” You gave an equal smile to the toddler’s as he squealed.

“Thank you noona!” He had already devoured the sweet in a happy fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but giggle at the bits of chocolate around his mouth. For a moment you had thought you heard Yoongi speak, only to be correct as he held his arms up. Namjoon chuckled softly. 

“Sugar, what are you doing?”

“I want up.” He murmured, taking his chance to hide behind you now. You shrugged then picked up the small boy. Yoongi had instantly nuzzled into your chest, his little cheeks red from the cold. It made you frown though you knew you couldn’t help it.

“Can I give them mini mugs of hot cocoa Joonie?” You asked, fluttering your eyes in that way you knew would make Namjoon give into you. He let out a small groan as you looked absolutely perfect to him right now, and like the kids were actually both of yours. But Namjoon hadn’t had the courage to ask you yet to see if this relationship could actually.. be something. He had to think about plenty of other things right now besides having his bed warm again, and the boys having a mom finally.

“Do you even have mini mugs?”

You grinned happily before nodding, walking behind the counter with Yoongi in your arms and Hoseok trailing behind you. It was a bit hard to lean downward before pulling out two baby mugs and some straws. You put them on the counter carefully. “I got them just for these two little dudes. Just make sure to bring them when you guys come.”

Yoongi made grabby hands at one of them, so you let him take the cup. His eyes held a type of curiousity you hadn’t ever actually seen in him. The boy was generally shy and quiet but you seemed to understand now how Namjoon managed to know what he wanted constantly. It was rather cute in your eyes as you could catch Hoseok almost drooling over all the pastries behind the glass, and then whining as he wanted up too. You couldnt carry the both of them though. 

Namjoon on the other hand, was more than happy with his open fawning over you. You were such an angel with the boys and it made him more than happy with his trips. Hoseok was more than ready to expose his dad though.

“Daddy staring!” He giggled brightly, looking up to his dad through the glass. It caused a chain reaction as Yoongi was more than happy to join in. “Does dada like noona?” 

A bright blush covered the male’s cheek in an instant. He was quick to recover though as you couldnt help but to laugh while filling up the two mugs, hanging mini candy canes off the edge. “No, I dont like _____ Sugar.” Namjoon replied.

“Not what Uncle Jinnie said!”

Namjoon facepalmed, shaking his head with a groan. He’d need to have a serious talk with that man later. “Uncle Jinnie tricked you okay? What do you want for breakfast?”

That seemed to change the topics easily, you placing the hot chocolates in Namjoon’s hands to cool off before letting the boys point while behind the glass. Both of them seemed rather happy to have your candy cane donuts, the one treat youd serve only on Christmas Eve and Christmas. Namjoon had asked for his usual strawberry bagel with cream cheese, so then you were free to go back to the kitchen once more. 

“Byebye noona!!” The boys called out, making you grin. 

“Youll see me next week, this isnt bye babies!” You replied. Namjoon couldnt help but laugh as the two were instantly excited all over again. Except, he came here to do something too, so he came up to the window to your kitchen quickly.

“Wait, ___,” The blonde seemed shy, but you couldn’t help but to smile at him.

“Did you forget something?” 

He gave you a nod, and you looked at him curiously. “I forgot your number, can you give it to me again?”

The words that fell out of his mouth made you laugh, as you had essentially walked into him saying that yet you still felt dumbfounded. How was he that smooth? "Mm, give me your phone then, I'll put it in." 

Namjoon complied with the words as he was smiling happily; a few of the customers in the store seemed to only cheer for him. You wanted to run away from the situation but you couldn't deny him like that! On Christmas Eve either, you had no hope. Within a few moments you handed the phone back with a bit of flour over the case.

"Oh lord, I'm sorry. I didnt mean to get flour on it."

"Don't be," Namjoon grinned. "Im used to you leaving flour prints on what you touch by now."

He gave you a wave, and went back to his kids. You hummed softly as you went into the back of the store before finding yourself trying to quietly squeal. Namjoon had actually asked you for your number! What you didn't know was that everyone had actually heard your little squeal, and it couldnt help but make everyone laugh as you fawned over your crush. Everyone knew for ages that you both had a thing for each other and now it seemed to get somewhere.

After a long day at work, and perhaps burning a few things in your distraction, you’ve finally made it home. The call of your bed seems almost instantly heeded. But there’s other things you need to do.

Namjoon, on the other hand, is struggling to wrap presents. He had taken quite some time just to wrap simple box shapes and now this gift wrapping thing seemed impossible to him. There was blankets and stuffed animals to be wrapped still, along with pillows and bed sheets that Hoseok had wanted because of them being PJ Mask themed. It was also an issue of he didn’t happen to have enough paper to finish wrapping anything. The blonde combed a hand through his hair with a soft groan; He couldn’t leave the house to get any extra paper because then nobody was home with the boys. The male also didn’t want to leave them with anyone, so he scrolled through his phone contacts, clicking your name with a soft hum.

“Hello?” You asked, clearly a bit tired so Namjoon was almost tempted to hang up then and there.

“Hey _____.” He chuckled softly as he once again couldnt figure out how to wrap the damned elephant plushie.

“Oh, hi Joonie! What’s up?”

“I, um, well. I can’t wrap the kids presents so I thought you might be able to help. I don’t happen to have any paper or that left either, and I cant leave to get any.” Namjoon sighed softly as he tossed the paper in the trash once again, leaning against the sofa as he sat on the floor. “I swear I’ll pay you back for it, I just didn’t know who else to call.”

You giggled through the line, pretending to think in silence. It was almost audible how nervous he was. “I can come help. Can you text me your address then?”

“Yeah I can, thank you so much.”

The line went dead after that, as Namjoon sent you their address. He took the opportunity to go check on the boys. It had to be quick because Yoongi was a light sleeper unless Hoseok happened to move into his bed. Namjoon was certain those two would be inseperable later on, so he never bothered to seperate them. He opened the door quietly after making sure the hall light was off, only to chuckle as the boys were indeed under one blanket. With similar quietness he shut the door once again before walking to the kitchen and starting to brew a pot of coffee. The father didn’t happen to have any more hot chocolate either right now, as much as he knew you had a preference for the drink.

Namjoon let his thoughts wonder about you as he drew two mugs out of the cabinet, and not mini ones this time. The house was quiet besides the gentle christmas songs playing on the radio. Gingerbread had filled the air as hours ago the boys insisted to make gingerbread men for Santa, even left out with the milk on a plate with their notes. They were such precious things to him, the father felt a bit sad to realize that this is what their mother had decide to miss out on. But he also was happy because she wasn’t the type of woman to enjoy this type of stuff. She’d simply go about her business as she please. It was like a household housing two seperate families. 

The knock on the door pulled Namjoon out of his mind, and he quickly answered it before you could knock again. Snow had covered your hat, the bits of your hair that decided to peek out under it, and on your shoulders. He was quick to let you in, even taking the bags of gift wrap and tape and perhaps a gift for each of the boys.

“Thank you so much-” He smiled warmly, rubbing his temples as he sat the bags on the sofa. You shook your head at him.

“Don’t thank me you dork. I’m more than happy to help you with anything.” The words were perhaps a bit more implying than what either of you cared to admit, but Namjoon was still happy none the less. Once you were free of your extra layers you took out the rolls of gift wrap and tape. You also made sure to put your gifts under the tree too.

Namjoon watched as you didnt bother to speak in your focus now. He couldn’t help but to admire your small form in his living room, almost expertly wrapping each thing he had struggled with. You simply didn’t want him to notice the bright blush on your cheeks. It made you excited to actually be here as much as it didn’t feel the same without the boys. You had spent so much time around them as a group that you felt shy when you both were alone.

“Here’s some coffee, since the boys drank all the hot chocolate.” Namjoon’s voice made you squeak, and he couldnt help but laugh brightly. His grin made his dimples show; you wanted to kiss him right there but you knew better.

“Thank you.” You whispered. The girly girl in you was practically squealing with how close he was. A yawn passed Namjoon’s lips as your hands held the elephant plushie that he didn’t have patience for only about an hour ago. He looked tired, but he didn’t want to have you leave. Your fingers worked in a quick motion to wrap it like a giant candy. WIth the use of scissors you even made the ends all pointy. 

“Ill put them under, you can stay the night if you want.” Namjoon hummed, watching you look up at him curiously. The face you held seemed to depict that you were nervous to him. “I won’t do anything, at least right now.”

“What do you mean right now?” You looked more puzzled now. Namjoon facepalmed as he realized the words slipped before he had stopped it.

“Um, well, you see.” He started off, once again making you chuckle. You couldn’t read him often but this seemed to be one of the rare moments you could. Kim Namjoon was embarrassed and he couldnt change the topic. Hoseok and Yoongi were often his way of avoiding conversations like these with you. But they were fast asleep. “Consider it your Christmas present, but I’ve liked you for quite some time now. The boys even like you too. It means the damn world to me because I love those two to death and they almost always get excited as soon as I mention you.”

You couldn’t help but to blush with his confession, but it made you grin none the less. “Are we sure that isn’t because I give them sugar every time they come?” 

Both of you exchanged a bright laugh at the words. The boys were only 4 and 5, of course sugar could buy their hearts in an instant. Namjoon couldn't help but to smile at you in such a pure adoration.

“No, because they dont touch much of the pastries we have unless we make them ourselves, or we got them from you.” The father replied. “And also, I’ve known you’ve liked me for awhile.”

This was your turn to groan. “Since when!” You whined, rubbing your temple with your fingers.

“The squeal when you gave me your number. I had just gotten up to leave with the boys when I heard it.” 

You pouted softly, knowing that was probably the most obvious of times that you definetely had something for him. This you couldn’t try to deny either. “Okay fine, perhaps I’ve liked you for awhile now too.”

Namjoon smiled brightly, pulling you into a hug. There was something different about this though. It felt much more warm and loving than when he would be forced to hug you because of his kids. Only when you yawned did he realize you really needed to go to sleep, so he picked you up without a warning. The simple action made your heart swell as you realized this was probably one of the best things to happen just in time for the holidays.

#try 2 to post this #namjoon #namjoon imagine #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts rm #we love domestic relationships #whole shit load of fluff

[britishchick09]

In Lovely Matrimony: A Wadlow Sibling Fic (part 1/2)

here’s a fic for valentine’s day! this one took two days to write (february 11th to the 13th) and it’s absolutely crazy. all the other fics could happen in real life, but this one... not so much. enjoy! :D

after senpai tells betty of marrying marilyn in a dream, betty decides to make the wedding happen! but how?

  Robert sat down in his chair with a sigh. He put his elbow on the armrest and rested his cheek on his hand.

“Robert!” Betty exclaimed, running into the house. “You should see the snow outside! It’s so- ...Robert?”

Robert didn’t answer. He was looking in the direction of the window, but he seemed to be staring off into space.

Betty tapped on her big brother’s shoulder. “Robert? Robert... Robert!”

Robert blinked, instantly snapping out of his thoughts. “Wha- huh?”

He looked to his right and noticed Betty standing next to him.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked.

“Oh... It was nothing,”

“It looked like something.”

Robert looked at his sister, who was gazing at him with wondering eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell anyone else.”

“I won’t.” Betty said with a nod.

Robert paused before admitting, “I had a dream last night. It was about... her.”

“‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“Take a shot and guess.”

“Uh... Was it Mom? Helen? Was it me?”

Robert shook his head. “One last guess.”

Betty tapped a finger on her chin. “Hmm... Was it-” She gasped. “Marilyn?”

Robert gave a quick nod as his face turned pink. “This is going to sound really stupid, but I dreamed that I- Gosh, I don’t even want to say it.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell.”

“You’re right, you did. I... married her.”

“You married her?” Betty asked through a giggle.

“I told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not that stupid. It’s something that might happen for real someday.”

Robert shook his head. “Not a chance. Who in the world would want to marry a giant like me?”

“A girl with the initials M, D and S?”

“That’s definitely not a chance. She doesn’t even love me. But the dream got worse. We... had a kid.”

“A kid? That’s adorable! Was her name Betty Jr.?”

“I just know we had some baby crawling around like a doll. That’s when I woke up,” Robert ran a hand through his blonde hair. “It was the craziest dream I’ve had in a while.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound too bad. All those things could happen in real life.”

“Not the baby thing. I’ve barely gone through puberty and that’s kind of important for having a baby,” Robert said before sighing. “It’s funny, although the dream was crazy, it’s something I wish could happen in real life.”

“You wanna marry Marilyn and have a baby named Betty Jr.?”

“No, I just...” Robert paused for a moment. “I want a family.”

Betty smiled. “You have one already. You have us!”

“I mean like a family of my own, one with a wife and- somehow- kids,” Robert smiled back. “But I think I’m happier with parents and siblings. The other family can just exist in my dreams.”

“I like that,” Betty gave Robert a hug. “Although taking care of Betty Jr. would be fun!”

“Maybe you’ll dream about her tonight. And besides, you have Harold Jr. to take care of.”

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Do you want to see the snow?”

“I can see it just fine from here. You go have fun.”

Betty smiled at Robert before going outside. It was a clear, cold February afternoon. The snow sparkled in the sunlight as Betty walked over to the other siblings. Helen was tying her scarf around a little snowman while Eugene tossed a snowball up and down.

Harold Jr., who was patting the snowman down, saw Betty and ran over to her. “We’re done with the snowman!”

“It looks great!” Betty complimented as she looked at the snowman.

Helen noticed her little sister’s somewhat off gaze and inquired, “Everything okay?”

Betty nodded. “Yep! Everything’s fine. Even Robert and his dreams.”

She put a gloved hand over her mouth. That last part hadn’t meant to slip out.

“His dreams?” Eugene asked. “You mean like building that house for him that Mom and Dad are talking about?”

“Uh... sure! He was telling me about the house and not a family or whatever,” Betty pursed her lips together. “...At all.”

“You mean like us?” Helen asked.

“More like Marilyn-” Betty sank down and stuffed her face in the snowman.

“The snowman!” Harold Jr. exclaimed.

Betty quickly lifted her head, surprised to see that the snowman’s head was sunken in “Sorry! He helped me stop talking about Robert’s dream that he married Marilyn- ...I should probably shut up again.”

Betty was about to put her head back in the snowman when Eugene stopped her.

“Wait,” he said. “Before you murder more of Snow Guy, tell us about the dream.”

“I dunno...” Betty’s voice trailed off into a frown. “Robert told me not to tell.”

“You already did, so keep spilling!”

Betty gave a heavy sigh. “I guess I’ll tell. Robert dreamed that he married Marilyn and they had a baby who was probably named Betty Jr.”

“That’s sweet,” Helen said. “I couldn’t see the baby happening.”

“But you can see him getting married?” Eugene asked. “Have you even seen him?”

“Have you even seen yourself? Robert’s a nice, good-looking guy-”

“And I’m not?”

Helen smirked. “You could say that.”

“Robert said he won’t get married because he’s a giant and Marilyn doesn’t love him,” Betty said. “But I wish he could get married. He looked so happy when he was talking about it.”

“And ‘Marilyn Wadlow’ has a nice ring to it,” Helen added. “Now, I’m not saying-”

“Robert and Marilyn should get married!” Eugene cut in. “And we’ll plan the wedding!”

“That’s- What the heck did you just say?”

“I said, ‘Robert and Marilyn should’=”

“I heard what you said, I’m just wondering how and why we’d do it.”

Harold Jr. smiled as he said, “To make Big Brother happy!”

“And we can figure out a way to do it.” Betty added.

Helen frowned. “Are you three serious about this? We can’t possibly marry them. They’re too young-”

“Mom was nineteen and a half when she married Dad.”

“Robert isn’t nineteen yet. And seventeen is also too young. You can’t argue with that.”

Betty sighed. “I suppose you can’t.”

There was a long moment of silence before Eugene snapped his fingers.

“I got it!” he said. “We don’t need to plan a real wedding, just a fake one! We’ll get a cake, some nice outfits, maybe some music-”

“That sounds an awful lot like a real wedding.” Helen told him.

“We’ll get a small cake. Maybe one of those slices at the store.”

“And I can play the piano!” Betty said. “You can play a wedding song on your viola.”

Helen looked at her siblings and asked, “Do you seriously want to plan a fake wedding for our under-age brother and a girl who doesn’t even love him?”

Betty and Eugene nodded while Harold Jr. put a pile of snow on the snowman’s head.

Helen put her face in her hands with a big sigh and groaned. “You two are such idiots right now.” she muttered to herself.

“What was that?” Eugene asked knowingly.

Helen took her face out of her hands. “I said ‘fine’. Fine, we’ll plan a fake wedding for Robert and Marilyn. Fine, we’ll get cake and music and stuff. And fine, we’ll make Robert the happiest hopeless romantic in the world. Fine.”

Betty grinned. “Looks like the wedding is on!”

...

 The siblings met up in Betty and Helen’s room a few minutes later.

“What are they doing in there?” Robert asked Harold Jr. as he toddled over to his train. “I dunno,” Harold Jr. replied. “Talking!”

“About what?”

“I dunno. Something!” Harold Jr. noticed Robert’s gaze, which was on the hallway. “Let’s play, Big Brother!”

Robert smiled and sat down next to his baby brother. He focused on playing trains, but his mind couldn’t help but wander to the rest of his siblings.

In the sisters’ room, they cooked up a plan for the wedding.

“We should get a chocolate cake,” Betty said. “Oh! Or a chocolate ice cream cake!”

“Robert will probably eat it all before Marilyn even has a chance,” Eugene reminded her. “He’s an ice cream hound, you know.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s that-”

“He has a dish every night! I remember when he ate three or four dishes in a single sit-”

“So normal chocolate cake it is, then?” Helen hurriedly asked Betty (just to make Eugene stop talking).

Betty nodded. “Yep! Now we need the music. What’s a good wedding song?”

“Uh... ‘Here Comes the Bride’? I don’t think that’s the actual title and I don’t have sheet music for it.”

“You can go to the record store after school and find some,” Betty told her before telling Eugene, “And you’ll get the cake at the supermarket.”

“What’ll you do?” Eugene inquired.

“I’ll probably get a script for the minister.”

“And where are you gonna find it?”

“Maybe the priest at church has something,” Betty smiled. “So does everyone know what we’re doing?”

“I’m getting music.” Helen said.

“And I’m getting cake,” Eugene added. “After my tutoring thing with Marilyn.”

Betty snapped her fingers. “Be sure to ask her to stop by here on Sunday.”

“Why Sunday?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, silly!”

“...Oh. Way to be cheesy.”

“More like romantic.”

“That means we have two days to get everything ready,” Helen said to herself. “That won’t be enough time to learn a new song.”

“Well, we can’t push back Valentine’s Day,” Betty said. “Let’s get this wedding started!”

...

 The next day after school, Helen reluctantly stopped by the music store while Eugene went to tutoring and bought the cake. 

Betty wanted to go straight to church, but she wanted to drop off her backpack. As she walked through the neighborhood, something ran by.

“Gunter!” Betty exclaimed with a smile.

Gunter barked and gave Betty a lick on the nose.

“I’m going to church so I can get things for a wedding. Do you wanna be the flower dog?”

Gunter cocked his head and looked the other way. Mr. Schmidt had opened the door.

“Gunter!” he called. “Come here, boy!”

The dog ran over to Mr. Schmidt and Betty followed right behind.

“Hello, Mr. Schmidt!” she said.

Mr. Schmidt smiled. “Guten tag, Betsy.”

Betty giggled. “It’s Betty, but I like that name.”

“I heard you talking about a wedding. Is someone in your family getting married?”

“Robert is! ...Well, he isn’t actually getting married, but we’re having a fake wedding to make him happy on Valentine’s Day. I was just about to go to church so I could ask the priest about a wedding script.”

“I might be able to help. Before I left Germany twenty-five years ago, I was a minister. I did probably hundreds of weddings!”

“Could you give me the script you used?”

“It’s been many years since my last wedding. I’ll have to recall what I said.”

“That’s fine. Can I come over tomorrow or something?”

“Natürlich! I may even have a little treat for you.”

Betty grinned. “Thanks, Mr. Schmidt!”

She gave Gunter a pat on the head and was turning around to leave when Mr. Schmidt asked, “Might I ask why you’re giving your bruder a wedding?”

Betty looked over her shoulder and laughed. “Let’s just say it’s kind of a long story!”

#robert wadlow #robert wadlow trash #senpai fic #fan fic #this is one of the funniest fics i've done so far :D #it's crazy

[wewillwriteyou]

Friends Will Be Friends || Chapter 2

A few elements from the main plot: A very special group of friends: early days, drama, laughter, booze, success, rock stars life, girl power, friendship, love, sex, music, misunderstandings, some more drama, family. Pairings in the tags

Summary Chapter 2: Introduction of the other main characters (Chelsea, John). Again, we don’t wanna give away to much, just read it lol

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: mention of alcohol, a little bit of swearing, also a little bit of angst (blink and you won’t see it)

A/N: Firstly, we’d like to thank all the lovely people who took the time to read the first chapter 💕 you guys are the best 💕 We thought we could post the second chapter right after the first one so that you guys would become familiar with all the main characters. As usual, if you like what you read, comment, like, reblog and share this with others! Thanks again for the support, enjoy! 💗

The sound of silence started to get comfortable. Or at least, Chelsea was trying to convince herself, that she was beginning to feel better, even if she still had a terrible headache and the constant feeling as she had to throw up at any moment.

She abandoned her head between the pillows of the sofa and closed her eyes, but Tom’s face appeared again as if he was in front of her. She got up, sighing bothered and walked slowly to the kitchen, to drink something and try to calm herself down. The water was cold as it went down her throat and Chelsea felt immediately better. Until the door opened and a tired John made his way into the flat.

“Chelsea” his tone was already starting to sound like a reproach and she rolled her eyes, turning her back to him to put the empty glass in the sink “please, tell me you didn’t spend the whole day at home. Again” he left the bass near the front door and got closer to Chelsea, who sat down on one of the chairs, elbows on the table and face rested on the palms of her hands. She sighed loudly and looked up at his best friend, who had a worried expression all over his face, while he was resting his back against the kitchen counter.

“I’m still mad at him John, I just can’t stand him anymore, but at the same time I feel that, deep down, we still love each other. I’m so confused and angry at the moment!” she admitted out loud for the first time, after almost a week of only thinking about it, while crying in the shower. John sat right in front of her and started to caress her hand, smiling. Chelsea felt a warm feeling getting bigger in her chest as if her heart had started to beat again. She smiled back.

“Chelsea, I know both you and Tom since we were born and I know you’ll get through this. Maybe you both needed your time to clear your ideas up” she knew he was trying to make her feel better, but a part of her was hoping that it was finally the end of the story between her and Tom. She leaned her back on the chair, removing her hand from John’s. He felt a little disappointed by that move and studied her face, while she was massaging her temples nervously.

John knew Chelsea since they were just two kids and when he moved to London to study at college, she followed him without hesitation and they started to live together. Their friendship was solid and true, they were like two siblings that shared a special bond. But at that moment, while sitting in front of each other, for the first time in forever, John couldn’t imagine what Chelsea was thinking about. Usually, he just needed a look to understand what was going on inside her head, but not that evening. Chelsea looked at him, with watery eyes, and she took a deep breath before speaking.

“Or maybe our story finally came to an end” John looked at her with his eyes wide open “I know it sounds crazy, maybe selfish, but… I don’t know what it is, it just doesn’t feel right anymore to keep our relationship alive” she felt the tears growing in the back of her throat. John was still speechless, so Chelsea got up because she didn’t want to discuss with him too and, to be completely honest, she didn’t even have enough strength to argue. She laid on the couch, while John’s eyes were still studying her from across the room. He looked away, got up and got himself a glass of water, such as Chelsea had done before his arrival. Then he approached her and sat down on the sofa, putting her legs on his lap as he started to massage her knees.

“I know what you need right now,” he said, smiling at her. Chelsea raised an eyebrow, curious and hopeful, that John had finally found an antidote to cure her thoughts poisoning or just something to do to distract her mind. He pinched her thigh playfully and she responded with a gentle punch on his shoulder. His little laugh was so contagious that Chelsea couldn’t help herself, but laugh with him.

“Alright then, what do you have in mind?” she asked and saw a little grin forming slowly on his lips. She rarely saw such an expression on his face, so she felt the curiosity growing, while a rush of adrenaline ran through her body.

***

A few hours later, just right after dinner, Chelsea found herself perched on John’s arm, as they entered a very crowded bar. The people around them were already drunk or high and they were all pushing each other to get as close as possible to the little stage that was set up at the bottom of the room. John made his way near the bar’s counter and Chelsea followed him, looking around and studying the faces that surrounded her. She noticed that most of them were probably students, just like her, and she relaxed a little bit.

“I was told that the band that plays here tonight is really cool” shouted John at Chelsea’s hear, hoping she would understand him. She nodded and convinced herself that, that Friday night, she would have finally had fun and forgot about everything that had happened the previous weekend.

She was about to answer to John, thanking him for taking her out, but when she turned her face to look at him, she saw that his sight was lost in the crowd.

“Sorry Chel, I think I just saw… I’ll be back in a minute” John excused himself and Chelsea saw him disappeared a few moments later. She rolled her eyes and instantly regretted leaving home and to follow John’s plans. At least, she thought, she could drink. And at that moment alcohol sounded like the best answer to everything.

In the meanwhile, John almost ran, trying to dodge the people around him to get to her. He was sure he had seen her, the pretty girl from the party at Ealing’s. He would have done anything just to get to talk to her one more time.

And there she was, standing in a corner, talking to a blonde guy. John felt the jealousy stabbing his chest and waited until he went away, leaving her alone. Then he rubbed his sweaty hands on his black trousers and, after breathing heavily as if he was about to jump into the water, he walked in her direction.  

“Hi” he said, shyly. Melissa turned her head to face him and smiled, her heartbeat got faster and her cheeks flushed. She hadn’t expected to meet him that night and immediately regretted what she was wearing. I knew I should have worn the violet dress, she thought to herself, briefly looking down on the pair of jeans and white shirt she was wearing.  

“Hi! What are you doing here?” she asked, massaging her arm with her own hand, feeling some kind of heat expanding everywhere in her body, as he got closer to her. Melissa noticed that his eyes were a strange greyish green and thought that they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen; she studied his lips but instantly looked away when she realized he had caught her staring. He smiled nicely.

“I came here to listen to this band, I heard it’s pretty good and that they may need a new bassist. So here I am!” John kept smiling at Melissa. He noticed the little freckles on her nose and how her long, blond hair fell so graciously on her back and shoulders. He tried to act normal when in fact he was really nervous: he felt like he could have fallen in love with her at any moment.

“Really?! That’s my brother’s band!” Melissa replied in excitement “and I think you should really give it a try and audition to become their bassist! I told you, you play very well and you could be exactly what they’re looking for” she involuntary reached his arm with her hand to squeeze it in a lovely way, before pulling her fingers away in embarrassment.

“Thank you. Again, that’s so sweet from you” he chuckled, then looked down on the ground. Melissa realized that she didn’t even know the name of that cute guy, but when she opened her mouth to ask him, the unmistakable sound of his brother’s drums interrupted her. John extended his hand to her, inviting her to dance using just a movement of his head; that was enough for Melissa to understand his intentions. She took his hand and they made their way as near as possible to the stage, as the crowd started to go crazy.  

Chelsea was just about to finish her third cocktail when the band announced their last song. Half drunk and half sober (more drunk than sober, to tell the truth) she raised her glass in the air, shouting with everybody else in the room, then drank what remained of her cocktail and put the empty glass on the bar’s counter. She started to follow the rhythm of the song with her head, feeling shivers down her spine and alcohol running wild in her veins. Raising her hand and pointing her finger in the air, she ordered her fourth drink; then, as she lazily moved her eyes back to the stage, she noticed for the first time that night, how beautiful the drummer was.

She understood almost immediately what kind of guy he was when, after the last song, he jumped down the stage and started gazing and winking to all the girls that surrounded him. Chelsea entangled her fingers to the cold glass and tried to ignore the fact that he was getting closer to where she was sitting.

She kept on drinking her fourth drink, even when the blonde drummer was just a few steps away, whispering to a brunette’s ear. Well, I’m prettier than her for sure, why doesn’t he flirt with this brunette? she thought to herself. She shook her head immediately, knowing that those thoughts were only caused by the alcohol.

But, as if he had read her mind, he casually turned to Chelsea and caught her staring at him. She immediately looked away, but it was too late: he had seen her.

With a cocky smile, he approached her and, without saying a word, he sat on the barstool next to her.

“You know what? You’re the only girl in here that didn’t jump on me in the last three minutes I’ve been off stage. That’s impressive” he said, with such an arrogant tone, that Chelsea wanted to punch him.

“You know what? I don’t give a single fuck” she replied, as her sight started to get blurred. He laughed, completely amazed by that mysterious girl and thought it was kind of hot how she was playing hard to get.

He got closer and Chelsea immediately felt her heart running faster in her chest. She looked at him and she couldn’t help, but be mesmerized by his beauty: he had big blue eyes and pink lips that she would have really liked to kiss. His blonde hair was long and, even though he was cover in sweat, Chelsea found him extremely attractive. She looked away, her cheeks flushing red.

“Who are you?” he asked, feeling the excitement growing inside of him. Chelsea didn’t answer and pretended to ignore him: it wasn’t the most brilliant plan but all the alcohol she had absorbed, had made her mind all misty.

He sighed, but the sound that left his mouth was more like a little laugh. He studied her, how her long brown hair fell almost to her hips. Those hips, he thought, looking down at her body, picturing her naked between his arms. After a time that seemed infinite, she sighed and told him her name.

“I’m Roger” he fiercely replied, when he saw her smiling at him. Chelsea nodded, trying to ignore the fact that he was so close, she could almost touch his chest with her elbow.

“Listen to me, just for one minute” he whispered to her ear, causing goose bumps all over her body “I can tell by the way you splutter your words that you probably drank too much… Maybe because of a boy?” he saw her look down and knew he had scored “I can make you feel better. Tomorrow, whoever is on your mind, will have completely disappeared and the only name you’ll remember will be mine” Chelsea almost moaned when she felt him touching her hot skin.

She squeezed her eyes for one minute, trying to focus, but the alcohol in her body already taken over her mind and she couldn’t think straight. She looked up at him and bit her bottom lip, as she kept thinking about how beautiful he was. She looked down on her almost finished drink. She shoved the last drops of the cocktail down her throat, then her eyes came back to meet his.

Chapters: ⬸ previous | next ⤑

A/N: Hi again! Hope you enjoyed this chapter 💗 we’re gonna tag the lovely people who read, liked and commented the first chapter. If you want to be tagged in the next one, comment under this one or leave us a message. Our inboxes are always open for you beautiful people 

(Temporary) Tag list: @littledarlingwellaway @its-a-metephor-brian @allthangsqueen @marvelsbunch @bohemiandelilah @loki-lover095 @deakysgurl @inthelapofthe39 @starsoflovingness-wq @minetticatinwonderland @cairdes20 @friendswillbefriendsblog @theappleofmybri @o-holynight @trash-record-collection @please-stop-me-now [if your name is crossed out, we couldn’t tag you 😢 please message us, and we’ll sort it out 😘]

PS: We found out the tagging problem is affecting a lot of Tumblr users, so, for now, we rely on you people to spread the news of our story, at least until the whole hashtag deal is sorted out by the @staff . Thanks again,

Cheers, folks! ✌💖

#fwbf #wewillwriteyou #deakyswhitequeen #sweetgcreature #70s queen #queen band #queen fic #queen imagines #queen #john deacon #roger taylor #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon fluff #john deacon smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor smut #john deacon x oc #roger taylor x oc #bohemian rhapsody #borhap boys #joe mazzello #ben hardy #gwilym lee #rami malek #borhap imagines

[shutup-sorry]

A flower for every petal [1]

A/N: Sooo this is my first fic like ever! I hope you like it and if you do, let me know if you want me to tag you :) P. S. english is not my native language, so if there are some grammar mistakes I apologise haha

Words: 3.7k+

The wind was strong that morning. Only sound breaking the silence on this, unusually, still street, was the angirly roaring wind. They said that the big storm is coming tonight and mother nature is preparing us for that.

For Iris, London was always such a depressing city, she for sure didn't like it here, never knowing why. So many unhappy people, lost souls that are just trying to go back to the right path, afraid of a little bit of risking. She wanted an adventure. She wanted to travel the world. But she knew well-enough that that's not going to happen any time soon, so she had to deal with that, that's what her mother used to tell her.

But on this particular day, it was even sadder. Everything seemed to be in black and white, like other colors didn't exist. The sky was so gray and misty, it almost looked like it was about to cry, his tears representing drops of rain. She never liked rainy days, or even worse, storms. It always reminded her of her lonliness and how she didn't have anybody by her side. Her family was far away, all of her friends and people from hometown had probably already forgotten her, and she was nostalgic. She missed her home, the happiest and safest place on this planet.

She tried to light her cigarette, but the damn wind wouldn't let her do it, so she put her hand up to protect a little flame that was coming out of her lighter. After few more attempts, getting even more annoyed, maybe by the fact that she was already so late to her first lecture, or maybe by the fact that it was so cold outside and she had to walk to university, she finally succeeded and shoved her lighter back in the bag. She took a long drag before continuing her 20 minutes walk to university, cursing the fact that she still doesn't have a car or someone to drive her there.

After few minutes of walking the rain started. Great, that's exactly what she needed at that moment. She instantly hurried up and threw her jeans jacket on her head, to protect herself from wetting her hair.

When she arrived at the university, after what seemed like forever, she started fast walking towards her classroom. She could only imagine how she looked like, and in every way was negative. Her hair was probably a mess, so she quickly combed it with her hands, trying to make it seem less bad, and then wiping her a little bit smudged mascara, as she mentally prepared for judgemental looks when she walks in almost more than half an hour late.

She entered the lecture, murmirng a little 'sorry I'm late' under her breath, and quickly taking her seat in the first free chair that she saw. Some students whispered something looking at her, probably gossiping, and the teacher just sighed and continued talking.

After some time of trying to focus on the actual words that the proffesor was talking about, but failing miserably, and then giving up, the class has finally finished. She packed her things and quickly exited the classroom, rushing into the hall of uni.

The hall was crowded with students, some with their friends, talking, laughing, and some alone just walking or sitting and reading their books.

She stopped walking when she saw a big poster on noticeboard that had big "Queen" written on it. It said that they are perfoming at the local pub on Saturday night.

"You coming?", someone said behind her back, snapping her from her thoughts and scaring her. She turned around and saw a young man with big, curly, hair and beautiful smile looking at her, then at the poster. "Oh sorry, didn't mean to scare you", he said nervously, noticing her scared expression on face.

"Oh no, I just wasn't expecting anybody that's all", she smiled truthfully and he nodded. "And, uhm, I don't think I'll come. Don't wanna go alone.", she shrugged her shoulders.

"I think you should come, they are pretty good, you'll have fun", very familiar curly boy, that she thinks she shares a class with, told her smirking.

"I suppose that you've seen them play, when you say that like it is a fact?", she laughed.

"Well tehnically, yes", he nodded smiling, "I am in the band, a guitarisst", he said proudly and she raised her brow. "Oh yes, and I'm Brian by the way", he hold his hand to shake and she took it, still smiling.

"I am Iris, nice to meet you guitarisst", she smirked sarcastically.

"So you coming or not? I would love to see you there", she put her index finger on her chin, pretending like she's thinking about it and he laughed, "Oh come on, why not? You won't be alone, I'll be there"

"Well I don't know you, for all I know you could kill me there", she joked and he scoffed at that, "I'll see, but probably won't come"

"Okay, but have this incase you've changed your mind", he gave her a piece of paper, that probably had the address of the pub or his phone number, "Goodbye Iris", and then he left.

She stood there looking at him leaving, thinking about the offer he gave her.

It was the Saturday afternoon, she was cleaning her apartment from the mess she made over the week, when she accidentally found that piece of paper that that Brian guy gave her the other day. She had totally forgotten about it. It was this Saturday. She looked over her clock and it was 7:17pm, she had an hour to get ready. She bit her lower lip, thinking about it.

Was it good idea going there alone? But if she didn't go, she would probably regret that, always thinking about what-if.

Fuck it, she thought to herself, throwing her cleaning gloves, making her way to the bathroom.

She wanted an adventure, this is the closest thing to the adventure that she can get.

After 20 minutes of showering, she did her makeup and styled her hair the way she wanted it to be. The cab arrived and she started her way to the pub, feeling anxious.

She never liked going anywhere alone, even though she lived alone. The irony of that. She always wanted company in anything she was doing, even if it was just going to the market or just walking around town, and this lonliness was killing her. Not that she wanted to admit that, but deep down she knew that.

Her thoughts were interrupted when cab stopped, giving her money to the awfully quiet driver, and then turning towards the pub. Outside of the pub was suprisingly crowded, so she could just imagine what was inside. Surprised that this band was so popular, she entered the pub, scent of smoke and alcohol hitting her right in the face.

There were a lot of people, and she immediately regreted coming here alone, but she for sure didn't have intention on going back home. She sighed, making her way to the front place so she could have a better look at the band. She thought about Brian, if he would be happy that she came, but then quickly realised that he had probably forgot about her and that it was just a stupid thought.

Some people were talking, some people were already drunk, some people were making out, and some people were alone there, just like her. She felt a relief that she wasn't the only one, miserable. Lights went off and the crowd started yelling. First row were just girls, clothed in small pieces, big enough to cover the most vulgar parts of their bodies, and Iris rolled her eyes at them. They were groupies. There's nothing wrong with being a groupie, she just couldn't stand them. She looked at what she decided to wear and her body, feeling a little anxious. All of these girls were so much prettier then her. She was an average looking girl, with average body. And they were all like models, beautiful and smoking hot.

Her thoughts were interrupted by four young men filling in the stage. They had huge, wide, smiles on their faces as they were looking at the crowd infront of them. The crowd wasn't huge, but for a small band full of young students, it was more than enough. The lead singer, who she learned was named Freddie, had black fluffy hair, then there was Brian with his guitar, and two unknown guys. One with fluffy brown hair with his guitar, or bass, she couldn't tell, and then the blonde behind his drums. The blonde looked chaotic, he had angry look on his face, only one not smiling at the crowd. He just took his drumsticks in his hands, swirling them anxiously, waiting for Freddie to stop talking so they could start playing.

She knew that she was staring at him, but she just couldn't keep her eyes off of him. It's like he felt her deep gaze at him and he looked her right in the eyes, unfazed by it. She didn't know what had gotten into her, but she was confident enough that she didn't look away, and got even more confident when she noticed that he didn't look away either, sending him a flirty and playful wink. In response he just licked his lips, before the first song began and he focused on playing his drums.

The way he looked when he was playing his drums, with that chaotic blonde hair falling everywhere, with his button up shirt that was unbuttoned showing off his bare sweaty chest, turned her on. She bit her lip at the thought of him. Now and then, he would look for her in the crowd, and when his eyes finally found hers, he would send her a seductive smirk.

After several songs, the band, had finished their gig for tonight. Freddie thanked the small audience as they all clapped their hands, because truth to be told- they were wonderful. Probably the best show she had ever attended, they had the most breath taking energy. Everybody did their parts perfectly. Freddie's voice stood out the most, this band is going places.

She decided to sit down at the bar, who could know that dancing, singing and having this much fun could be so exhausting? She thought to herself. Or maybe she just got so used to boring life of just studying and doing nothing over the days that she forgot how it felt to loosen up sometimes.

It took her some time to try and avoid, now very drunk people, praying to get home safely, when she finally saw the bar. She looked over and saw a free chair. She sat at the high chair by the bar, looking through her purse for the pack of cigarettes, and when she finally found them she realized that she had forgotten her lighter. She sighed, with cigarette between her plump red lips as she continued trying to find a lighter, even though she knew that it wasn't there. She cursed under her breath.

"Here ya go", she heard a soft male voice next to her speak, making her jump from her seat a little bit. _Can people stop scaring her like that?_She thought to herself. She looked up and there he was, the drummer from the band, standing infront of her, grinning and before she had any chance to reply to him he had lit her cigarette, that was still between her lips, his big ocean blue eyes never living her deep green eyes. She just sat there, feeling her cheeks turning red, she blushed and that rarely ever happened, and seeing that made him smirk.

"Thank you", she said, shyly, trying to cover up the fact that she had just blushed at him, puffing the smoke from her cigar.

"No problem, love.", he said still smirking at her. It made her feel tingly, and she didn't like that feeling at all. The way he looked at her, practically undressing her with his eyes, picturing things he could do to her. The way his eyes focused on hers, then, as she puffed smoke, he would focus on her lips, but then, again, on her eyes. He still looked sweaty from his gig, hair sticking on his neck and forehead. That made him look even hotter, If that's possible.

Stop being so fucking horny and stop imaging things Iris.

"You don't look like a type of girl to be here, or to smoke too. ", firstly he pointed at the place they were in and then at cigarette in her hand, lighting his that was between his lips. She was taken aback by his statment, making a weird face in confusion.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "What's that suppoused to mean asshole?", she said with bitterness behind her words, not caring if the nickname she gave him would offend him in any way. And it didn't.

He chuckled. "Easy there, love. I was just saying. You're new here, I've never seen you before.", he said as he raised his hand so bartender could notice him. "Want something? It's on me", he winked and she rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head no in response, as he murmured 'why not'.

"I don't drink", she said taking his lighter of the table, without asking for it, and lighting a new one.

"See? Told ya you don't look like a type of girl to be here. You just proved me right. ", he smirked and she rolled her eyes, again. "But, I must say, you're a one hell of a smoker"

The more he talks, the more she regrets thinking about him in the way she was while he was performing. She found him really annoying and wanted him to leave.

"What can I say? We all have our addictions", she raised her eyebrows dramaticly and he laughed at this shaking his head and murming little 'I guess you're right', before she spoke again. "And by the way, what if I'm not new here and you just haven't noticed me before? I mean, you have a lot of fans here. Especially girls, I mean you couldn't possibbly notice every girl that enters this place, now could you?", she stated matter-of-factly, pointing at all the girls that were now looking at them, making angry faces at her for taking their 'man', and a little bit of sarcasm behind her words, but not too much.

"Oh, trust me, I would notice. ", the bantender interrupted his words as he gave him what he had ordered, this misterious drummer drinking whatever liqour in one shot, and then continuing, "Ugh, rough. ", he laughed, "Where was I, oh yes. Trust me I would notice a smoking hot girl like you anywhere. I have seen the way you looked at me while I was playing, and I would lie if I told you that that didn't turn me on just a little bit", his voice turned into whisper as he was now close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine. But of course, she wouldn't admit that and feed his, already, big ego.

She snorted at his cockiness, rolling her eyes, for the, probably, hundreth time tonight. "Don't even bother drummer boy, I know what you're doing. I know the guys like you, I have dated them. That's what devils look and sound like", he laughed at this biting his lower lip. That turned her on even more_._

"Oh really? So what am I doing, misterious girl? Hm? Tell me", he is still whispering, and that amused her a little too much. She didn't know where was her confidence coming from, but she liked this version of her, not afraid of saying wrong thing, being relaxed. Maybe it's the fact that this night, she felt so good after such a long time that she just didn't care. It was an adventure.

"You, mister drummer, are trying to get me to bed", she leaned in closer, tempting him as she knew exactly what was she doing to him. He just kept looking at her lips, not caring about her noticing that, as she bit her lower lip, in intention of seducing him even more. She succeeded in that as he quitely groaned at that act of hers. "And you were right. I'm not the type of girl who comes to places like this, as I'm not a type of girl who's just gonna be one of your groupies, so I advise you to just forget about it blondie and maybe find other girl to hit on and bore", she leaned back where she was before and he just snorted, now looking infront of him into unknown space.

"Tease. I like that", he admitted truthfully and she proudly smirked at herself for how amazing she was. Who would know that she had it in her? She was always an uptight person. "And could I get your name, love?"

"Does it matter? It's not like we're gonna meet again", she teased and that being said made him roll his eyes, playfully.

"Oh, darling, I think we will", he teased back and she giggled.

"And why's that?"

"Because", he leaned in, putting his hand on her thigh, making her have goosebumps all over her body, "I'm not that easy to get rid of. You're gonna see more of me, darling", he winked at her and just as she was about to come with the comeback, the yelling was heard and the drummer quickly moved his hand away from her tigh, that was travelling higher and higher, to her inner tighs, making her even more desperate. She silently groaned at the loss of touch.

"Oh here you are, you idiot! Roger, I've been looking for you for the past half an hour, you said you were just going to the bar quickly! Freddie is on the parking lot being hysterical as he always is and needs your help with the van and the instruments. You need to hurry up and leave that groupie alone. ", the curly, furious looking guy, that invited her here, named Brian spat at the blonde boy. His words hurted her a little, but she ignored his comment about her being a groupie as she annoyingly looked at him. Brian, realising who she was, looked guilty about his choice of words. "Oh hi there Iris, I didn't see that it was you. Uhm sorry for that nickname, I didn't mean it. I see the two of you have met already", Brian spoke just too quickly and she laughed at him, as he continued rambling, "I'm glad you made it here-"

"Oh so Iris?", Roger interrupted, earning a glare from Brian, but complety ignoring that, smirking as he had just found out her name, teasingly looking at her, already, annoyed facial expression, as he continued. "Nice name, very meaningful. Do you know that, that in Greek mythology, Iris was the goddes of rainbow, a messenger for Zeus and Hera, who rode the rainbow as a bridge from heaven to earth? Iris is actually considered a symbol of power and majesty, representing faith, wisdom and valor. Are you called after a goddess? ", he said, putting his index finger on his chin, pretending to be thinking about it, as he continued his philosophy, while she stood there, vividly, shocked and without any words, and that's a rare thing. This man is well educated, or just too good with his words, or maybe just lucky. "Or are you named after the flower? You know, they come in a lot of colours, and you remind me of some purple or blue just like your deep eyes that seem to hold in just too much sadness in them. Even though, in most of the cultures Iris means happiness and summer. "

Her eyes never left his as he had just put her in some sort of trance. She blushed at his words, and cursed at herself for letting herself blush just too easily, quickly trying to cover her cheeks, but failing. He already saw what he did to her and smirked, proudly, knowing he had won this conversation.

"What's wrong, love? Did I say something wrong?", he grinned at her, taking a drag of his cigarette and leaning back against his chair.

Brian just stood there, confused to what was happening, carefully watching Roger talking. He seemed to be, just as she was, in some kind of trance.

"You're full of shit, drummer boy", she laughed at this whole situation, as she tried to pretend that this actually haven't affected her, and he joined in her laughter. Brian still stood there confused and bored, as he didn't find this funny at all. He looked annoyed, but they didn't seem to care at all. "Do you say this to all the girls you pick up at one of your gigs, or should I feel special?", she raised her eyebrow, waiting, patiently, for his answer.

"Don't flatter yourself, love. I'm just good with my words. I've made your heart melt, didn't I?", he asked, but it wasn't a question, because he already knew the answer and he knew that she would never give it to him.

"If that would help you sleep at night then okay, blondie", she winked.

"You can call me Roger you know, not those ridiciolus nicknames you have." , he said and she nodded. He stood up starting to walk past het but for the second he stopped. "And I'm gonna call you Petal, that sounds cute. Right Petal?", he smirked at creative nickname he gave her.

"Why Petal? Most people call me by my name, or my usual nickname, Izzy", she said facing him with confused look on her face.

"Well that's a bit boring, don't you think? Mine is much more creative", he put his hand on his hip, letting her know how proud he is for making that up and she laughed.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever, blondie. ", she shrugged and he laughed.

"See you soon Petal", he just left and she watched him go until he disappeared behind the door that led to a parking lot, Brian disappearing with him as well.

Taglist: @killer-queen-ofrhye @magicwithaknife @rogertaylordome @yourlifeuniverse @pyrotechnic789 @supersonicqueerace :)

#queen #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody movie #queen band #rogerina #ben hardy #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #roger taylor fanfiction #borhap cast #70s #80s #fanfiction #queen fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic