#I SWEAR I WILL TRY HARDER TO MAKE HIM LESS YOUNG PRETTY BOY AND MORE CRUSTY MAN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yyawnjun · 8 months

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⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧ CRUSHES ?! ⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧

ot13 seventeen x reader

a.n. helloo everyone, how are you? First time writing for svt and CARATS I am here for you!! Also I promise I will try to be more active on these days

Let me know your opinions and hcs !! comments, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. I hope y'all will like it ♡

summary: They as kind of apparently unreachable crushes - some of them are based on my experience but I am pretty sure you could relate too. Often that handsome guy, we only saw once and will probably never see again, that pretty barista, that airport guy....

1.9k wc ; fluff !! ; lil scenario for everyone ; kinda hope y'all can relate my delusional thoughts ; oh and tell me who is ur svt bias that I might start writing more for them <3

~ S.COUPS [에스.쿱스] ~ the airport crush

THE impossible crush for THE leader.

He would be that cool guy who sits in front of you while you wait for the plane, dressed entirely in black, probably wearing a mask and a hat as well. His gaze wanders as he looks around or scrolls on his phone with headphones on.

THE MOMENT when your eyes lock, and only you can see his eyes smiling. No matter if you keep that one eye contact, I'm sure that will happen again.

He might even make an unconscious attempt to get your attention by putting away his mask or moving his hair after putting away his hat to show how attractive he is… Perhaps it's the same for both of you when he nods his head or waves goodbye with his hand as soon as you have to take the plain. Your joy after that eye contact will keep you two awake during the entire journey, wondering if you will meet him again.

~ DINO [디노] ~ the charming waiter

c'mon ik you get me. You are in your favorite cafè and your order is taken by that one charming waiter who is softly smiling and with stunning eyes.

Even though it's your first time meeting him he already caught your attention, even only for how he acts or how he nods and grins while writing down your order (yes, I am aware of how much delusional I am).

Black and white plain clothing, messy hair, and once more, A COMFORTING AND SWEET SMILE. The urge to keep eye contact with him while he is working and serving other tables is clear to everyone.

And I bet he's the kind of guy who would come to your table and make jokes once he felt comfortable around you. Rather than making you feel uncomfortable, he asks about your order how you are doing, or if you will return

..lockey hoping for a yes.

~ DK [도��] ~ the beach boy

Let me explain. I can't picture him out with no other expressions but SMILING. His big smile, using literally all of the muscles on his face.

On a sunny summer day, DK is on the beach with his friends, and they are all seated in a circle, laughing and enjoying some food.

Then there comes the instant when your eyes lock when his mouth smile slowly disappears and his eyes light up.

A few seconds passed when the two of you first laid eyes on each other, yet it felt like hours. Then, I can picture DK's friends slowly turning around to look at you, as well as your friends, as they begin to move their hands in front of DK's face.

as if to save from the enchantment.

~ THE8 [디에잇] ~ the motorbike's guy

I know it's just a moment but I swear that it is harder than you imagine to forget.

Imagine a young man on a motorcycle who is stopped at a stop sign after slowing down, wearing a dark helmet that matches the color of his eyes and has a clear visor(?), that turns around to look at you. Only a few people were running in the rain, and there weren't many cars in the area.

So you are still watching him watching you as you are under your umbrella. Your eyes locked for less than a second. There were no smiles or any facial gestures.

Under his helmet, he had deep eyes and a charming and veiled smile.

Who knows if he will ever forget that one-eye-staring contact challenge with those eyes of yours?

~ VERNON [버논] ~ the boy in the rain

I can absolutely imagine him forgetting his umbrella every time. Or perhaps it should not have been raining that day, but it was, and you two ended up stuck under a random awning.

His very presence was enough to make you a little nervous—he made no eye contact nor conversation. It occasionally happens that you gaze at his wet jacket or hair and vice versa, you feel his eyes on you one or twice.

But it wasn't a scary presence; quite the contrary. The young man's eyes were partially closed as he moved his feet to the beat of either made-up music or perhaps the sound of raindrops. And with a simple "bye," you wish that curious guy farewell who was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost failed to notice that it had stopped raining.

~ WOOZI [우지] ~ the idol

Imagine him in a cafe or a library alone, a little while after his debut. Probably writing music or just relaxing on his own.

So you are as well there. Both of you are completely immersed in your work, not paying attention to what you have around you.

As time goes on, you start to become distracted or grow tired and start to look around. You smile as you turn your attention to the boy who is working hard.

Oh, it's time to go! After packing up your things, you see him doing the same. You both proceed to the exit when you unintentionally run into each other. He is the kind of guy that would instantly assist you in gathering your belongings and yourself as well.

You both say thanks and then part ways before leaving.

Imagine learning who he is only later because he is now a famous idol.. who knows if he wrote something about you on the paper he was working on that day…

~ JEONGHAN [정한] ~ the hallway's boy

I am sure that everyone would have a crush on him if they saw him walking around the school. He is the prettiest boy I have ever seen fr !!

He's beautiful and he knows it…and loves playing with this.

Each time your eyes contact, he maintains the expression and smirks a little. After a few days, and much better if you were in the same classes, he would start saying hello to you all the time.

He would know your name too if you were in the same classes with him or even in the same project group. After that, he will be the one screaming out your name, expecting that you will turn around and look at him as you always do.

So now you won't be the only one who constantly glances at someone

~ MINGYU [민규] ~ your traveling companion

This one is really specific I think.

I thought about that one comforting person that you always see while coming back home or going to school/work every morning.

At first, there are no conversations or greetings. At first, you won't even notice, but eventually you both will. As you begin to feel a little more comfortable, even sit near to each other!

So you become friends when you realize that you've begun to worry when he's not there, or when he's late. Greeting one another and possibly having a brief conversation or trading phone numbers or Instagram!!

The best part is still when he introduces you to one of his friends and it's obvious that the friend knows exactly who you are (YES HE TOLD THEM ABOUT YOU).

~ JOSHUA [조슈아] ~ the sporty guy

Someone becomes immediately more attractive if they are passionate about their sport. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

He's not just interested in sports; he excels in them as well. He is the athletic student in the class and he's a gentleman, so… Imagine, during class, going for a run together. I think he's competitive yes, but not the type who is obsessed with winning, so I think he would not mind if you two slowed down or stopped whenever you needed to.

He would be the one encouraging you as you tried your best to avoid passing out while jogging for PE, or he would be the one you are staring at while he is competing; the one who appears to look good under the sun and would definitely smile or wink at you if your eyes happened to meet.

~ SEUGKWAN [승관] ~ the saver

Let's talk about how embarrassing it is to ask for directions when you are completely lost…It happened to me a few days ago in my hometown…

I pictured you having to find a building for a class but it's raining and you have no idea where to go. Seugkwan could be that comforting companion who feels just as lost as you, in my opinion. And it's comforting exactly because you're not lost alone; he's with you.

So you two end up together while searching for where to go.

He would ask a worker there for directions while laughing at the bizarre circumstance and lightening the atmosphere. After finding this out, you would walk together and sit next to each other for the rest of the lesson(s)…

~ HOSHI [호시] ~ the concert's guy

the vibe of a concert. immaculate. And it's even better when you really like the singer or the group because you get to meet all those amazing people who have the same passions as you!

Imagine seeing this boy, alone, waiting in line, looking so gorgeous and dressed up for the concert. Literally, the image of the beauty, with an outfit - maybe a crop top with baggy jeans - matched his makeup. So charming that is impossible to stop looking at him

AND SAME FOR U- While your eyes continue to lock and you smile, you are dying inside from happiness. Hoshi might even approach you to compliment you on how lovely you are and ask you how you feel about the concert,

Oh and Imagine singing along with him to your favorite song without caring about anything else.

~ JUN [준] ~ the friend of a friend

Okay, hear me out. That one moment when a friend of a friend that you have met just like one or two times does something kind and looks so attractive while doing it.

He is at the party where you and your friends are attending. only good moments and loud music; but you realize you need a break, so you choose to spend some time in the garden.

Worrying that you were not feeling well he would go out too, bringing some water for you. He did not say much when he sat next to you and gave you a glass of water. Perhaps at first, there was awkward quiet, but soon you two started talking soothingly about nothing that serious but still comforting.

~ WONWOO [원우] ~ the arcade's boy

I immediately thought about him as the arcade crush. Imagine you and your friends at the arcade having to split up into teams or pairs, and you are missing your partner.

Or imagine being in an amusement park and finding yourself alone in a Ferris wheel, roller coaster, or horror house (perhaps precisely as you wanted!). Then, BOOM, he sits next to you. It could be because there were no more places left…right?

He would be that cool guy who would play with you - you probably would have to make the first move tho…

or you might just be mesmerized by how amazing he is as he plays alone. He might feel the pressure of your gaze, but he wouldn't really mind—or maybe he would even kind of like it;)

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

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A Breath of Kool Air

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Black! Female! Sinclair! Reader

Summary: You've always been a little closed off, kept to yourself. But after the events of July 4th 1985, you're not sure that you're content being alone anymore. While you would never trust Harrington before, you discover Steve isn't so bad.

Enemies to lovers if you squint

Word Count: 6.7k words

Content Warnings: Smoking, swearing, bullying, racism,

( Masterlist )

A/N: This has some angst in it so I waited until March to post it. Also, the reader is very "I hate everyone except you" and I love it. This fic is very self-indulgent and my love song to Kools Menthols.

You tend to rub people the wrong way. You were loud-spoken and hardly shy. Your brain and mouth were attached by a thin cable, information swimming freely between the two. You weren’t exactly the “softest” person by any means. You had a thick shell and very few ever saw what was underneath it. Growing up in Hawkins, it was a necessity.

You learned this lesson very young, at the age of six. You were at the park with your mother. You had been on the swings when you heard laughter behind you. A group of boys were snickering and trying very hard not to garner any attention.

They shushed each other as you looked at them. You continued to pump your legs, deciding they were no threat to you. Their snickers remained heard, but you paid them no mind. Until you felt something bounce off your head. It was small and light.

You turned to see mulch fall to the ground. You looked back at the boys, and this time a piece struck you in the face, right in the eye. It stung, and tears quickly filled your vision, and your hand shot up to cover it.

They all rolled around in laughter, and you hopped off the swing. As you did, more mulch fell from your hair. You realized then that they had been laughing at you the whole time. Pieces of mulch wrapped in your curls, buried in your ‘fro. They had been throwing dirty, dried wood into your pretty hair.

“Hey!”

You looked less than ferocious, dripping in rainbows and corduroy.

“You leave me alone! That wasn’t nice! You hit my eye and ruined my hair!”

The boys only laughed harder. Your hands were firmly set on your hips, something you had learned from your mother.

“Now, say you're sorry!”

If you thought they were laughing before, they were howling now. They tripped over themselves, clutching on shoulders as they folded in half. You watched as they twisted their faces, mimicking you before falling back into fits of laughter.

You were growing annoyed. You couldn’t understand what was so funny.

“Hey! Say you’re sorry!”

One of the boys stood tall, scoffing as he stepped toward you.

Age was very hard for you to guess at this age. It was a concept you only partially grasped. This kid was bigger than you. You could tell that much. Maybe not in elementary school like you. But not an adult. Small but big, stuck in between.

He leaned down to face you at your level. You leaned away from him, not liking that he was so close. Your nose burned from the heavy smell of spices that failed to cover his natural b.o.

He sneered at you, disdain dripping from his lips. “And what are you gonna do? You gonna make me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he pushed you to the ground before you could speak. The palms of your hands were quick to cry out, splintered wood making a new home there. He looked back at his friends, and they continued to laugh.

You grew angry, grabbed a fist full of mulch, and waited for him to look at you again. As soon as you saw his blue eyes, you chucked it with all of your strength. He shouted and sputtered.

“Now, do what I do,” You said, “I’m sorry for throwing mulch in your face. It was unkind. Your turn.”

You felt proud of yourself, thinking you had made your point quite clearly.

In lieu, of an apology, you instead receive a mouth full of mulch. He charged you and pinned you down, his lackeys picking up scoops of mulch and burying your face with it.

They had said many things, but it was hard to hear with your head quite literally buried in the sand. They eventually left, and you quickly scrambled up to find your mother reading a magazine on a bench across the park.

You cried to your mother, and she was able to discern your pitiful whines. She scooped you up in her lap and soothed you. Once your hiccuping stopped, she lifted your head and looked you in the eyes.

“Stop your crying, baby. Don’t let them think they’ve won.”

Her hand worked through your hair as best as it could, trying to get as many pieces out as possible.

“You are beautiful and strong, and some people don’t like that. It makes them feel ugly and weak. And when they feel like that, they gonna try and push you around. They gonna try and make you feel small. Don’t you let them, baby.”

You listened to her words as she dusted you off.

“It’s the only weapon they got. Don’t let it work."

And your mother was right. You encountered many versions of that group of boys. Prissy rich kids who thought your sneakers looked trashy. Girls who told you your features weren’t “pretty”. Teachers who questioned your academic integrity because your writing voice and speaking voice were different.

But you had armed yourself, not allowing them to make you feel small. It fueled you, really. You now got off on proving people wrong by continuing to be you, unaffected by them.

This, of course, gave you quite the reputation. Your mother inadvertently taught you that power is a finite source; it must be stolen to be gained. In your six-year-old little brain, it made sense. You knew the weapons in this war, and you decided to learn them- to improve them. “Go low, go lower,” if you will. And you did, very well.

Your younger brother complained about this constantly.

“Every year, first day of school, they call roll, see my name, and ask if I’m your brother. When I say ‘yeah,’ they start being mean to me!”

You would always roll your eyes.

“They were mean before they met me. I didn’t break ‘em.”

You rubbed his head, and he let out a sigh. “Yeah, but you didn’t fix them either.”

Lucas, however, encouraged your fiery spirit in the mall fight. You were fiercely protective of your siblings. You almost lost your mind when you realized Erica was practically kidnapped by Russians! And then to discover Lucas had been coming head-to-head with this “upsidedown” bullshit for years! Yeah, you about lost your goddamn mind.

You didn’t hesitate to throw any weapon you had at the weird, meaty, creature. All colourful words and flammable projectiles. It wasn’t the Fourth of July firework show you were expecting, but Lucas was right- they were big.

The rest of your summer had gone by without event. It was odd to you. You had never been friends with Nancy, or Jonathan, or Robin, or Steve. But it seemed, now that you’re in on the government secret, you got to be “part of the crew.”

Initially, you refused. They weren’t friendly to you before, so why now? They had their preconceived notions about you, and you had no interest in changing them.

That was until Lucas practically begged you to come to a movie night. It was hosted by the former King Steve, who you had been told had lost his crown in his fall from grace.

Mom said she didn’t want Lucas out late again and would only agree to him going if you were also in attendance. As much as you didn’t want to go, you would have just because he asked. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t watch him beg and collect on his desperate promises.

“I won’t speak to you for a week.”

“I’ll do your dishes for a month.”

“I’ll cover for you for the rest of the summer!”

He continued to ramble out promises, and you grabbed your coat. Your cold facade broke when you looked back at him. He had grown into his face more, the baby fat falling away, but he still tried to use his adolescent charm. His bottom lip was jutted out with his folded hands on his chin, and his eyes were big and doe-ed.

You rolled your eyes and threw a jacket at him, “We’re gonna need to talk so we can get out stories straight when you cover for me. But you’ll do my dishes for two months.”

He began to argue, but you shot him a look that shut him up quickly. You felt pride in your ability. That look had gotten you far, and you were glad it still worked.

You didn’t want to admit it to your little brother, but you were feeling quite nervous about this movie night. As you made your way to the Harrington house, your fingers continued to itch towards your breast pocket.

You had picked up smoking, but it was something you tried to keep from Lucas and your family. Everyone else in this group had experienced this upside-down stuff before, but you were new to it. And from your understanding, Robin was new but handling it better than you were.

To be honest, you hated this. You had been so tough just to learn that you knew nothing. All the people you used to judge and roll your eyes at were badasses. Hell! You’ve seen Nancy Wheeler- Queen Priss of Hawkins High- wield a twelve gauge like it was second nature.

And while they just cleaned up their wounds and moved on. You woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares. You jumped when shadows moved around your room. And they were fine.

You let Lucas knock on the door, choosing to hang back behind him. A bright yellow hat and a mop of curls are all you see before your brother is being crushed into a hug. You bight back a smile at their innocent glee. It’s adorable to hear them giggle and cheer.

Dustin shouted over his shoulder to announce Lucas’s presence, and more cheers echoed from behind the door. You imagined your name would not receive as warm of a welcome. You weren’t sure you would be welcomed at all.

“Oh, my sister is here too.” Lucas gave you a timid smile and urged you forward.

Dustin stepped away from the entrance as if he was scared of you. Maybe he was. As you looked around the room, you saw more puzzled faces. Max and El were the only ones who seemed possibly happy to see you.

You noticed it was mostly kids on the couch and looked to your brother confused, “Where’s everyone else?”

You heard a beeping in the kitchen, some scuttling around. Max caught your attention before you could investigate it further, “The adults don’t come to these movie nights. It’s just us kids and Steve.”

She shot a dangerous look towards your brother, “I told your brother to inform you of that; I’m not surprised he left that out. But if you want El and I will share our snacks with you. You’re cool. Not as annoying as these idiots.”

“Not as?” You echoed.

She only shrugged.

You liked Max. She never backed down from you. She didn’t hold the same fear or disdain as others did. But she respected you; she thought you were cool.

You considered her words. You could leave, but you knew Lucas would have to as well. Then there’s the hassle of getting back across town without a car.

You instead pointed to her stash, “I’ll take the Twizzlers.”

She tosses them, and you then to your brother, “And you owe me a heartfelt mixtape, but better than the last one. I wanna shed a tear.”

You could have asked for anything, but you asked for this. This was a way to casually mention in front of his peers and girlfriend (or friend- maybe. She was smiling, so they were probably on good terms.) that Lucas had made you, at least once, a mixtape. And that it was “heartfelt”.

He had neglected to tell you this was a kid hangout and that the only adult there would be Steve Harrington; that was low.

You opened the door to an embarrassing anecdote; that was lower.

Just as you expected, the kids all jumped on your little tease. They started asking about when he made it, how often he’s done it, what was included on the soundtrack, etc. This was an exchange of mild blows, nothing to feel guilty over. You knew, ultimately, Lucas wasn’t upset. You tore into the Twizzlers with a delighted smile before heading into the kitchen for a drink. You noticed a bunch of paper cups but no actual beverages, ergo- kitchen.

As you turned the corner, you saw Harrington. He was facing the microwave, a towel thrown over his shoulder. His hair in the golden light above the stove gave him a halo. He wore a tight blue polo that pulled over his muscles. His jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination. The Levi's hug his ass just right, and if it were anyone else, you might wanna take a bite.

“Oy! Harrington.” He spun around quickly. His eyes trailed over you with furrowed brows before they eventually landed on yours.

“Uh..hi-hey. Hey. What uh…what are you doing here?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m looking for something to drink. Whatcha got?” Harrington clumsily directs you to some two litres on the counter, and you help yourself.

You’ve been sitting tucked into the corner by the recliner and the coffee table for almost an hour now. Your feet are starting to tingle, and it’s getting harder to ignore the trembling in your hands. The source of that is unknown to you, though you have a few prevailing theories.

One is due to the movie you are watching: Terminator. While once, this 1984 instant classic was seen as silly and a bit outrageous to you, now every gunshot that rang through Harrington’s stupid stereo system/tv-set-hybrid that Dustin had helped engineer made you flinch. Explosions that are now contained behind a glass screen did nothing to shield you from the memories of them happening right in front of you.

That wasn’t really something you wanted to admit, which led you to two: You hadn’t had a cigarette in almost six hours. Your hands would get shaky the longer you went without nicotine. You hated seeing the physical manifestation of your addiction, seeing your body cry out for the substance. But then again, it was the perfect excuse to get out of there.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

Harrington pointed down the hallway, and you quickly rose. You hoped it wasn’t too obvious that you wanted to get the hell out of there.

You open a door in the hallway and curse under your breath. As you scan the room, you see there’s no window. This wouldn’t work. You shut the door and creep up the stairs. You needed to hurry, to not rouse too much suspicion. There was a cracked door, and you rushed to it.

The plaid wallpaper matched the dishevelled bedding and curtains. There was a poster of a car above a small desk that held more trinkets than work. The room wasn’t messy but lived in, with jeans draped over chairs and sheets rumpled. If you had to guess, this was Steve's room.

You weighed your options. Time was of the essence, and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before people would start looking for you. You weren’t sure if you could get away with finding a different room. Also, if you were caught- how upset would Harrington be to find you lurking around his house?

As you looked around, you spotted a window. A decently wide one. One you could prop yourself up in. Your shaky fingers made the decision for you.

You crept in, glancing into the hall before slowly shutting the door behind you. You quickly crossed the room and opened the window. The sun was starting to set over Hawkins. As you looked out, bright oranges and saturated pinks were peeking in between the trees. Cicadas sang a pleasant song, and jaybirds joined in with accompanying harmony.

Your feet were resting on the sill, and your back was against the side of the window. The protruding wood didn’t bother you so much. Not when that sweet buzz started swimming in your brain. The menthol clouds washed your mouth in a refreshing wave, and as it filled your lungs, you felt like you were learning to breathe again. Each pass of oxygen felt cold and refreshing. But the warmth of the smoke warmed you right up. The scratch in the back of your throat grounding you back to reality.

With each puff, you were brought further and further from your mind and closer and closer to Earth. For better or for worse, it was tethering you back to Hawkins.

You were halfway through your cig when you heard a gentle knocking on the door. Your body jumped as you panicked. You quickly snuffed it out against the rough brick walling and tossed it into the grass, making a mental note to retrieve it later. The door opened, and you turned to see a mop of brown hair and curious eyes peek through the crack.

“Hey,” Harrington mutters as he stands up straight, taking a few steps into the door. You had never seen someone so awkward in a space that was their own. “I was just checkin’ in on ya.”

You give him a smile that is genuine but small. It was obvious that he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. His palms ran across the front of his jeans before one found his pocket and the other tangled in his hair.

He had a problem with eye contact, you noticed. Though that was something you were used to. Often people would look at you, but they weren’t looking at you. They would whisper about you in the halls. Or they would see you and your skin and make assumptions. They would see every wall you put up, and all the armour you wore, and decide that you were scary or a threat.

But Harrington wasn’t looking at all. His eyes darted around a space you assumed would be familiar to him. His eyes fell to the carpet and the posters on his wall.

When the silence became too overwhelming, he finally spoke. You watched him steel himself as he finally looked at you again.

“Are you…are you good? Everything alright?”

He was anxious talking to you, and you felt a little bad. He seemed genuine in his concern. But you were cautious. He was still Steve Harrington. Even if he had suffered some form of ego death, you weren’t sure how much that had changed him. Silence seemed to frustrate him though, and you weren’t particularly trying to upset him.

“I’m fine.”

Again, he waited for you to elaborate, but you didn’t.

“What are you doing up here?”

That was a valid question. You asked for the bathroom, and he found you perched in his window. If he wanted to be upset or curious about it, he had every right to be. You decided honesty would be best, but you didn’t want to reveal all of your cards just yet. No need to give him ammo.

“I needed a break. Some fresh air.”

Harrington’s head cocked to the side, his hair flopping ever so slightly. It seemed he didn’t believe you completely but accepted what you told him. His small sigh a sign of his admitted defeat. Though he didn’t completely give up. You expected him to leave or kick you out, but he did neither.

“Can I join you?”

You weren’t about to tell him no. It was his house, his window.

You turned so your legs were dangling out the window, and your back was to the room. There was space for Harrington to slide in but not enough for any personal space. The worn denim brushed against your leg. The texture wasn’t completely unwelcome against your bare thigh. Something else to ground you now that your cigarettes had to stay hidden in your pocket.

You continued in silence, observing him from your peripheral. You hated to admit that Harrington was pretty. He always had been. The problem was he knew it. Everyone did. And even now, you couldn’t deny it. The golden beams made his summer-tanned skin glisten in the light. His quaffed hair was annoyingly perfect. He had grown it out over the years. It now resembled a grown-out mullet, with loose waves that moved effortlessly in the breeze.

If you were being honest, Steve Harrington had always interested you. Growing up in the same town, in the same school, with the same people, you could say you knew everyone fairly well. You were always very observant. But something about Steve stuck out. He had once been quiet, unlike you. But then he changed.

Freshman year of high school he…blossomed in a way. He joined the swim team and played basketball. If you remember correctly, there was a brief time on the baseball team as well. He was suddenly charming and sociable. He managed to use his good looks and blank checks to schmooze his way up the social hierarchy. But you could still see the shy, quiet boy underneath the bravado. It fascinated you.

“Can I bum a cig?”

You froze at his words. You weren’t often surprised, but Harrington’s small smile and relaxed features confused you. His question confused you. When you didn’t respond, he started shimming out of the window.

“It’s fine, I’ll grab one.”

You watched in wonder as he retrieved a pack of Winston’s from a dresser drawer. He pulled his desk chair over to the window and sat down with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. You couldn’t help but stare.

He cast you a prize-winning smile, “Light it for me?”

You knew you had been caught and decided not to make a big deal out of it. You pulled the lighter from your pocket, and he leaned further into the window, meeting your hand. On the third strike, a flame came alive, dancing in the setting sun. As soon as there was a cherry, he pulled away, sitting back in his chair as he exhaled.

It was ungodly attractive.

You settle back in your position before, legs up and head back, as you pull out a carton of your own.

“Ah, you’re a menthol girl. I would have pegged you for the cigar type.”

You look at him with playful scepticism.

“A cigar?”

He chuckled, taking another drag before he answered.

“No, not a cigar. But something really bitter, with strong tobacco flavour.”

You shrugged, taking a drag of your own.

“Eh, what can I say? They taste nice.”

“Can I try it?” Steve asked with more excitement than you thought necessary.

You took another hit, “Won’t the children be missing you?”

He shrugged off your comment, “They had too much sugar and crashed. We’re good for another half hour at least.”

We…

The comment caught you off guard for a moment. You quickly shook it from your thoughts.

You figured there was no harm in him trying your Kools. You extended your hand, palm facing him and the cigarette positioned between your pointer and middle finger. Instead of taking it from you, like you expected he would, he wrapped his lips around the exposed filter, never taking his eyes from yours.

You didn’t want to admit the way your heart fluttered from the contact of his lips. You refused to admit that the twinkle in his eyes was mesmerizing. You’d die before you ever admitted that you missed his warmth as he pulled away.

“It goes down smooth. I’ll give ya that.” He said, with a wink.

He offered his to you, and you did the same. You had to match every move he made lest he think he had something over you. If he could take a drag and brush his lips against your hand like it was nothing, so could you. You weren’t sure if Harrington was toying with you, playing some sort of game, but you were determined to win.

There were woody, nutty notes to the plumes. But there was nothing to cover the bitter taste you avoided with menthols. You held back a grimace.

“I hate it.”

He laughed at your response. It was a pleasant sound. You turned back towards the window, ignoring the thought.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Nothing but your breaths and faint crackling filled the air. It was nice. A break from the constant solitude you had found yourself in. The truth is, you always thought you liked being alone, but in the past few weeks, you’ve realised that you actually hated it. You had no one to share your thoughts with, no one to keep you company. No one to comfort you when the monsters wouldn’t let you rest.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Harrington entered your space yet again. He had scooted his chair forward so he could lean with his arms on the window sill. His hair flopped to the side as he looked up from you from where his head rested on his folded elbow.

“So, how long you been smokin’?”

You took a particularly long draw, delaying the answer to a question you knew you wouldn’t avoid.

“A few weeks now.”

He looked at you puzzled, but you saw the moment he connected the dots. He decided not to comment on it, and for that, you were grateful.

“What a saint! You waited until you were eighteen?”

His smile was blinding, so you looked away, scoffing. “I’m hardly a saint.”

He chuckled at that, “Yeah, I’ve seen the trail of bloody noses in the hall. Truly terrifying work.”

What small smile you wore fell. You flicked your cigarette angrily and brought it back to your mouth. You took another long drag before finally responding.

“Yeah, a real trail of tears. Forgive me if I don’t shed one myself. Besides, it got Carol that nose job she had been wanting since the seventh grade. She should be thanking me, really.”

You refused to make eye contact, but from your peripheral, you noticed Harrington prop his head against his arm.

“You know,” He said with a tone you hesitated to call clipped but definitely less friendly, “I remember Nance being on the receiving end of one of your punches. She had a gnarly bruise on her cheek for weeks.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help yourself. His tone was less than kind, as was the accusation. It angered you that he would say that, not knowing the context of the situation. It was a blow, and you had never been one to not exchange them.

“Now, she’s a saint. Even when using a shotgun or killing monsters. She’s flawless, put together, and neat. Like a perfect little doll.” Your word dripped with bitterness, and Steve tensed.

It was a targeted attack. Not only were you bashing someone he cared very deeply for, but you were also triggering the “protector” instincts he seemed to have developed.

“You talk like you know her,” was all he said, though his tone was becoming more clipped.

“Of course, I know her.” You say as if it was the most obvious thing. “Just like I know Helen, and Tommy, and Tina, and Mikey Lewenski, and you. You guys think you’re all so complex, but if you pay attention for more than a few seconds- you’re obvious.”

Harrington said nothing, and he moved your legs so he could sit beside you again. His eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a small pout on his face. You took a drag from your cigarette, hoping to settle your nerves before burning another bridge. Now, you faced each other as the streetlights came on.

“Oh, please tell me more about how obvious I am. About how well you know me, despite this being the longest conversation we’ve ever had in eighteen years.”

There was a subtle fire in his eyes, and though you knew you shouldn’t, you wanted to stoke it.

“I know that you were born to Arthur and Loretta Harrington on April twenty-ninth of nineteen sixty-seven. I know that you used to be shy, but then in our freshman year, you became popular. And then you threw it all away for Nancy Wheeler. I know you were lonely before, and even when you were surrounded by others, you still felt lonely. And now you’ve found a group of people that accept you, and you feel less lonely.”

He said nothing as he puffed his cigarette, which told you, you were right so far. You leaned forward, whispering the next part like it was a secret. His eyes followed you carefully.

“But you can tell a lot more about a person by what they want…what they desire.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but the effect wasn’t there. He was trying to act annoyed, but you could see the curiosity in his gaze.

“Oh, yeah? And what is it that I want?”

You smile sweetly, flicking the ash from your cigarette before speaking softly.

“You want what you can’t have,” you say with a sweet smile, “And it drives you crazy.”

His eyes search your face, “Is that right?”

You say nothing, watching his eyes follow the movements of your lips as you tag a drag.

When you don’t respond, he speaks again, “What about you, huh?”

He leans forward now as well, eyes still scanning over your face.

“I get everything that I want because I’m crazy,” You say through a slow exhale. “And therefore, I want for nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

You raise a brow, and he continues.

“I don’t buy it. Everyone wants something. I know you like to pretend that you’re some heartless monster, but you’re not. You’re a person, just like me. So what is it? What is it that you want?”

Suddenly his proximity seems too close. You lean away as if thinking through your answer. Deflection seems best.

“I think what you want is far more interesting.” You say. “You are discontent with your prior persona and want absolution from your previous wrongdoings. But the why…that’s what fascinates me.”

He scoffs, opening his mouth to reply, but you’re quicker.

“For some reason, you are stuck on Nancy Wheeler. You loved her- perhaps you still do. Was she the first to look beyond your crown? Is that it?”

Steve fixes you with a look you’ve seen many times before. One that tells you you’re pushing too far, diving too deep.

“You have this idea that if you stray far enough from your old self, she’ll return to you. I can’t imagine why you would want to change everything about yourself, so someone else will like you.

Actually, I can. You must not like yourself very much. There’s probably some deep-seated insecurities behind your need to prove yourself useful to this group.

Or maybe you have no idea who you are yet. You’ve put Nancy on this pedestal as the ideal, perfection. So you’re just shooting for that, in hopes that persona will fit. But it won’t because you’re not her. And you’re not the her in your mind either.”

Steve doesn’t look at you. He focuses all his attention on the ash at the end of his cigarette, watching it fall to the grass below.

“You’ve got me all figured out, don’t ya?”

You shrug, taking another drag, relishing in the last bit of tobacco before the filter.

“It’s a gift.”

Steve turns his head back, locking eyes. The flames before were brighter, despite the purple skies.

“You know what I think?”

“Enlighten me,” you challenged.

“I think you’re scared. I think you’re scared shitless. I think you push anyone away who might get close because they would see just how terrified you really are. You disguise yourself the same way I did. I wore a crown, and you chose leather jackets and angry glares. But both are fake. You’re not all that scary.”

His scowl has softened, and you hate the look in his eyes. It’s not quite pity, but close enough. It’s like he’s looking through you. Holding you up to the sun like a piece of sea glass. And he can see every scratch and crack.

“I’ve seen you with Lucas and Erica,” He continues. “I’ve seen you with Max and El- er Jane, it’s Jane now. I’ve seen the way you protect them. The way you tease and joke with them. I’ve seen you smile with them.

Not so deep down, you’re a big ole softie. I don’t know who or what made you feel like that was a bad thing, but I’m sorry.”

You bit your tongue. Your first thought was to strike. Take a stab at his absent parents, or say that him trying to be better wouldn’t be enough, or that no one in the group really liked him. Anything that would sting, something that might unravel the bit of confidence he had built. To spit vile venom his way and wait for him to climb back inside, for him to wilt and die from your deadly blow.

But something told you that he wouldn’t believe you. That he would see it exactly for what it was: pushing him away, because he was getting too close to the truth. Too close to you. He may see it as a victory. You proving him right.

He had won your verbal spar. He had disarmed you, completely and totally.

You only had two options. You could pretend it wasn’t true, make a joke of it. But any defence you had against that was weak, and the longer you waited to respond the weaker it got. So you went with the next.

“Yeah, well, Hawkins can do that to you.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, probably not expecting an honest answer or maybe just curious about the answer he got. You looked back out the window, not sure you could say anything with him looking at you like that. Like you were interesting or important.

Instead, you focused on the few stars visible in the sky. You focus on the translucent moon high above as if pushing the sun down below the horizon. Waiting for its time to shine.

You ash your cigarette. You had run it down to the filter, and it bit back. No more menthol to cover the bitter taste left in your mouth. No more tingly sensation to help you breathe.

Something about Steve was alluring. Maybe it was because he was stupidly pretty. Maybe, it was because this is the first time you’re really talking to him, and you find yourself not hating it. Maybe, it’s because even your brother can admit he’s “a good dude.” Maybe, it’s because you haven’t had a good night's sleep since the fourth of July, and it’s finally catching up to you. Maybe, it’s because you have no one else to talk to. But you find yourself going against everything you believe in. You find yourself tearing down walls. You find yourself letting him in.

“Lucas and Erica are younger.”

You take an unsteady breath, uncertain of your words but feeling they were true. Something you needed to say. You prepare another cig with trembling hands, though you can’t use nicotine as an excuse for your tremors this time.

“They have support. They found friends, and they had me. If anyone tried to make them feel bad-less than- they had a big, brave older sister to tell them not to be. They had friends who didn’t make off-handed comments about their hair or selves. They had people in their corner who actively spoke against the bigotry brought on by small-town America.”

You take a drag and hope steve doesn’t notice how shaky your exhale is.

“I didn’t.” You say bitterly. “I had to be my own big, brave sister. I had to be tough. I had to be scarier than what scared me…and now…”

You pause again, unsure if you should continue. But it felt nice to admit. It felt nice to say it and know someone was listening.

“Now there are new fears. Fears beyond my childhood nightmares. I can’t be bigger than them. I can’t scare them off, so they don’t hurt me. I can’t protect Lucas, or Erica, or anyone else against them. I’ve just been made…smaller.”

You had never told anyone this. You had never opened up about it. And you worried about opening up to Steve, of all people. Mr Rich Kid, White Guy, American Dream. What if he turned on you? What if he just didn’t get it? What if he said you were sensitive or stupid? You felt tears brimming in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You would not be any further disgraced.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was small, barely a whisper, but you heard it.

You release a sigh, “Not your fault Harring-”

“Yeah, but I didn’t help.” He interrupts. His voice is stern and holds a certain anger to it that makes you nervous. “I knew Tommy and Helen were…racist. I heard the jokes they would make-jokes they would make about you. And I never said anything. I never said anything. I just…ignored it.”

“Harrington, you’re not the only one. A lot of people do. It’s not like you hate crimed me or anything,” You try to reassure.

Steve flicks his cigarette into the yard and watches it fall. He leans back against the window as his hand passes through his hair a few times before settling in his lap, where he fiddles with his fingers.

There is a mix of sorrow and anger in his next words. A sound of defeat you recognise all too well. One that comes along with a painful reality check.

“Is the bar really that low?”

You had never considered that before. That hate crimes and outright bigotry was where you drew the line. That you had never considered…more.

“Huh,” you uttered, surprised by Steve's wisdom, “I guess so.”

You couldn't read this new expression. But the sides of his mouth were turned up just enough, and you wanted to call it a smile. Though you knew it was probably one of the sad variety.

He shook his head, as a dry chuckle left him.

“For what it’s worth,” Steve began, “I think you’re plenty tough. But this whole government-experiment-demi gorgon-mind-flayer-shit would be a lot for anyone. I couldn’t sleep for days. Nance was haunted by it for months. Robyn’s been spending the night here because she doesn’t want to be alone. Jonathan lives in constant fear that something else is gonna take his brother, or try to.

What I mean to say is…you’re not weak or small because you’re scared. Anyone with sense would be. And if you want, we’re all here for you.”

You cast him a small but genuine smile and bump his leg with your foot. “Thank you.”

He nods nervously and you watch as his hand passes through his hair.

“As for the other stuff, I’m not sure if this is appropriate to say or not,” Steve all but whispered into the night sky, “But I actually think you’re pretty cool. Like your hair and stuff, very awesome. And- and your skin is really pretty. Especially in the sun. You’re- you’re very pretty.”

The way he tripped over his words was endearing. Far removed from the suave king he once was. You feel mildly bad for the laugh that bubbles out of you. Steve looks both shocked and offended.

“Oh, my god!” He says with a twinge of pink on his cheeks, “Are you laughing? Did I just make you laugh? I didn’t even know you could do that!”

You bump his leg again, “Shut up, Steve. You tell anyone, and I’ll have to kill you.”

His smile remains wide, “I know you just threatened my life, but you also just called me Steve and not Harrington. So, I think I’ll take my chances.”

You roll your eyes at him but all hostility from the action is absent. However, your smile, while small, remains.

The crickets are chirping now, and the jaybirds have stopped. You can hear frogs picking up in the melody deep within the trees. The stars shine brightly overhead; Orion and Cygnus look down upon you. The summer breeze is ever-soft as it dances through branches and kisses your cheeks. You take a deep breath, and you feel like you’re learning to breathe again.

Taglist: @barbecuetiddy, @fanfics-instead-of-depression, @hadesdaughtwr, @heejinw0rld, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year

Text

Guys My Age

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: Daryl and the reader have had a 'sort of' sexual tension for a while but, given their age gap, Daryl's never made a point to act on it and neither has she. But it finally becomes too much when Daryl catches another man flirting with the reader.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, mentions of alcohol.

A/n: This post was originally requested by @leahlovestwd but it was eaten by the tumblr-verse! How cruel, I know. So I wanted to write it in oneshot format to make it up to my lovely friend. I adore you, thanks for this request!!

"You have to stop looking at him like that." Maggie mutters to me, bumping me with her shoulder as she bounces Judith lightly on her lap, happy coos coming from her and she flashes a gummy smile.

"Like what?" I ask but I already know what she means, my lips parted and eyes longingly watching Daryl as he chops wood outside, biceps straining and sweat dripping down his forehead from spending so much time in the hot sun today. Much to my excitement, all I've had to do today was to watch him like a fool.

It's been harder to gawk at him since it's gotten dark outside, sounds of the walkers outside the chainmail fence making the environment a little less peaceful. He's thrown me a few glances every once in a while, Glenn reaching over to smack him every time he catches him looking at me.

"Like you're deprived of him. You're looking at him desperately." I am desperate for him. I just give her a simple shake of my head as if I'm trying to deny what she's saying but I can't lie for the life of me, skin flushing just at the thought of how much I truly, desperately want him.

"Because I'm desperate for him." I mutter, reaching out to take Judith from her, needing the distraction of her bubbly happiness to tear me away from my dark, naughty thoughts of someone who's nearly twice my age.

"Oh god, sweetheart, you need to just go talk to him. Beth said he always asks about you whenever you're not around." Maggie gushes, turning in her seat so she can face me completely, a wide grin on her lips as my head whips to look at her with wide eyes in disbelief.

"Yeah?" I gasp, stealing a glance at Daryl who enters the prison once more, stripping himself of his shirt and sealing the last bolt on the coffin in the grave I've dug for myself. "There's nearly fifteen years between the two of us, I don't think he's interested."

It's taken months for me to even speak to him and maintain a playful, somewhat flirty type of conversation and I can only imagine how long it'll take me to actually make any sort of substantial move towards him without worrying I'll offend him or, even worse, disgust him.

I think that will take some time.

"I think he probably thinks the same thing 'bout you." I bite at. mylip, letting myself go there- letting myself dream about the day that he tells me that we've both been fumbling around each other, walking on eggshells, worried about each of our feelings for one another. That would truly be the dream.

"You think so?" I ask once more and Maggie reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a soft, promising look.

"I know so." She chuckles, hand covering up to conceal the loud yawn that escapes her. "I gotta get some rest, you mind putting her to bed?" She nods at Judith and I give her a soft smile, looking down at the sleeping baby in my arms, pretty much answering Maggie's question.

"No I can do it, I'll talk to you in the morning." I reach out to give her hand a simple squeeze as she makes her way by me. I take a deep breath, cradling Jude to my chest as I snuggle down into the pillows and blankets beneath me the best I can, trying to do what I can with the makeshift couch the boys made for whoever's resting with Judith.

"Hey Y/n!" The rest of the boys enter the room moments later, a young guy Jake at the front and center and he's coming my way with a sleezy smirk on his lips. "You look good." He wipes his hands off with the rag that he tosses over his shoulder, hands resting on his hips.

"Thanks." I give him a polite smile, hoping it'll make him go away and when it doesn't and when he takes another step closer to me, I hold Judith tighter to me.

"She seems to have really taken a liking to you. Must be something about you." He coos and I bite back the urge to gag at the way he's obviously flirting with me, a not so subtle mischievous tone to his already creepy voice that he saves just for me.

"She's just a really easy baby." He doesn't seem to take my lazy answers and kneels down in front of me, not even bothering to look at Judith as he reaches out to brush some of my hair behind my ear.

"Or maybe because she can recognize a lovely woman."

"Thank you Jake, if you excuse me, I have to go put her down to bed." I'm quickly up on my feet, stirring Judith a bit but it won't matter when I'm away from Jake and safely tucked into her room.

"You know where to find me." Jake pats my hip as I walk by him and I bite back my grimace until I'm climbing the stairs, a shiver running down my spine at how creepy and forward it was of him to flirt with me in front of that whole room of people while I'm holding a baby.

"What a fucking creep." I mutter to myself as I lower Judith down into her crib, watching her squirm and attempt to roll but she gets stuck on her back, gurgling a bit before settling down. Her eyes close completely, fingers snug around my pointer finger and I grin, feeling so lucky that I get to have the company of this innocent life.

It makes the apocalypse so much more bearable.

"Hey." My head whips around to see Daryl standing in the doorway, leaning on the cell with a fresh shirt on, no more grease or dirt covering his tan skin.

"Hi Daryl." I smile, hearting racing as he takes a few steps towards me to peak over the side of the bed at Judith.

"She likes you." He reaches out to poke her belly, pulling a smile from her lips and I gasp, looking at him like 'how'd you do that?' and he chuckles, giving me a gentle shrug.

He's so soft and kind sometimes, the complete opposite of what he shows other people and I wish he'd loosen up a bit to show everyone the side that he shows me. Maybe some day but, for now, I'll struggle (not so much) being the only one he's gentle with.

"She likes you more." I bump him with my shoulder, seeing a gentle blush on his cheeks even in the dim, damp light of the prison.

"Nah, you're a natural." His compliment has a deeper meaning and I know it, but deciding to not tease him about it is probably the right idea. "Was Jake bugging you earlier?" HIs soft voice switches to something more stern, more protective than before, and I smile to myself, giving him a shake of my head even though I'm lying through my teeth.

"He always bugs me. Thinks I want something to do with him or something." I huff, reaching up to run my hands down my face with a quiet groan.

"I can take care of him if you need me to." I smile gratefully at his offer, loving how protective he gets.

"It's okay, I know I can handle him but when I can't I'll make sure to send him your way." I reach out to pat his chest, thanking him for his care but he just gives me a stern smile that says 'it's no problem'.

"Good." He mutters, looking back outside my cell for a moment as he bashfully reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"For what?" I ask, pulling my hand away from Judith, figuring if she's not asleep now, she will be soon. I fold my arms over my chest as Daryl thinks of what to say, a small shrug tugging his shoulders upwards.

"Bugging you too."

"You could never bug me." I promise, brows pulling together in a furrowed, confused look as he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief but after a moment a look of realization passes across his expression "Contrary to popular belief, I love being around you." He softens a bit, shoulders rolling in relief as we subtly exchange the feelings we've both been feeling for too long. We've been silent too long.

"I like being around you too. Maybe too much." He chuckles breathlessly with a wide eyed, knowing look.

"You don't gotta stand all the way over there, ya know." I offer with a sheepish smirk, swaying back and forth with my fingers linked behind my back. His brows raise subtly and cutely, almost asking a question that I can't put my finger on.

"If I step any closer, I'm afraid I'll do something I regret."

"Like?"

"Like kiss you." He whispers, the tips of his socks touching mine and I grin, reaching out to rest a hand on his chest.

"That's not as bad as what I was thinking of doing to you."

"Goddamn." He mutters and suddenly I feel so small under his gaze, wanting nothing more than to cave in on myself as I give him a bashful smile. "Oh really? What’s got you all quiet?” He asks, head tilting playfully at me as I grin, my eyes rolling. I lean forward, tucking my face into the crook of his neck awkwardly as he laughs, hands tentatively reaching out to rest on my hips, walking me further back towards the exit so he can lead me from Judith's room. "C'mon." dragging me into his room and shutting the door with his lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m not complaining at all, but what's got you flirting with me. I'm fucking shocked but not complaining.” He whispers sincerely through a small laugh and I peak up at him through my lashes, a coy smile on my lips. He smiles down at me softly, hands returning to the place on my hips, thumbs brushing into the bare skin where my shirt rides up.

“’m nervous.” I mumble, his eyebrows raising kindly as he shakes his head, not knowing what I mean.

“Why’s that?” He asks in return, his gaze fluttering over my face as I pause, the words that I've imagined saying to him for years now stuck on the tip of my tongue, unable to formulate and form a coherent thought. Daryl just looks at me, teasingly and longingly, but it's his hands and the way he's looking at me that has me fumbling.

His typical deep eyes have a certain mischievous depth to them, almost as if he knows that he's intimidating me beyond belief, stalking me like a predator watches a prey.

“I want more.” I whisper, the three words making his eyebrows pull together but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows exactly what I’m referring to.

“More of?” He urges simply, his fingers dancing under my shirt, the tips of his fingers dancing along my spine. Shivers erupt through my body, my frame moving closer to him, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as I possibly can be.

“More of you.” My fingers gently fist the material of his shirt as he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss against my forehead. We're both waiting for the other person to make a move and, for a second, I think he's going to kiss me when he rests his forehead against mine, his nose bumping against mine as I wait for him to take the next step.

“There’s no rush.” He whispers, soothing all of my anxiety that I could possibly have, validating all of my worries and anxious thoughts. I nod, knowing his words are true but mine are truer.

“Why not rush, though?” I ask teasingly, laughing as he rolls his eyes playfully and his head lolls back. “I want to. I want more.” I shrug simply, his head bobbing in a nod and I watch as he ponders, my chin moving to rest against his sternum.

“What if I said I was nervous?” He asks, my eyes widening at the thought. I had never thought that he would also be hesitant to also have sex, but I could tell by the worried look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. The thought does nothing but comfort me and fill my belly with butterflies.

"Then we don't need to do anything if you don't want to." He thinks for another few moments, thoughts running rampant as he looks down at me. "No rush." I reiterate and suddenly he shifts, his body pushing me back towards his bed.

"I want more too." I look at him, waiting for any move, any words and he grins to himself before shoving me back towards the bed, my back hitting the mattress with a loud 'oof'. He's quick to follow me, crawling on top of me, fitting perfectly between my legs like he's meant to be there. “What if I also said that, when it comes to this, I really don’t know what I’m doing?” He chuckles shyly, a small sigh leaving my lips.

“Then I guess I’ll figure it out, hmm?” I reply simply, my body moving to push him over onto his back to take the stress off of him and take it into my own hands. He looks up at me, shocked, as my leg swings over his hip as I seat myself on top of him. His hands hover nervously over my thighs, his lips parting in a shocked look. “I think I can probably figure it out." I chuckle, watching his eyes flickering down from mine, to his lap and he looks nervous, his hands unsure of what to do or where to touch, like he’s never touched me before, never hugged me after a good hunting run or when we've finally managed to get Judith to bed after a long day.

But this, this I know, is different.

I take his hands in mine, moving them to rest against my thighs as his chest deflates in relief, thankful that I helped him make the first move. It's almost as if he wants. My hands wander, slipping under his shirt as I help him lift it over his head and y hands rest against his chest, dancing down his abdomen that tenses under my feather light touch.

“Fuck.” He whispers breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as I lean down to capture his lips in mine, taking him by surprise and pulling a deep groan from him. His strong hands cup my cheeks, guiding me through the kiss as his tongue brushes against my bottom lip. “Fuck, fine.” He whispers, hands moving up the expanse of my thighs to rest on my ass, gently pulling me against him. I moan as his hips jump against mine, the feeling making me stop my movements, my forehead resting against his shoulder. “I’m not rushing, but I am not cumming in my pants.” He whispers with a laugh as I snort, my lips moving to find to his.

Our moans mix between us as he hardens underneath me, the feeling making my head spin. My fingers wrap around the edge of my shirt, our lips briefly leaving each other’s to pull it over my head. I sit up, spine straightening and his eyes immediately train on my chest, his jaw slacking once more. I chuckle nervously at his reaction, his eyes moving to look up at mine. His hands move to rest on my waist, helping my hips move against his as he gasps. My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses me senselessly, my thighs shaking and aching and I moan greedily, nails scratching against his scalp as he whimpers, head falling back.

“I need you, Daryl.” I whisper, my eyes fluttering over every emotion that passes over his face; shock, excitement, nerves. His pupils are blown to high hell, lips swollen and damp from kissing me senselessly and his chest rises in heaves at my words, head bobbing in a stunned nod.

We make quick work of kicking our pants off, doubling checking that his cell is closed enough to ward off any possible intruders and I giggle, my lips finding his once more as an arm wraps an around my waist. He flips me over quickly onto my back, all of the air leaving my lungs at the move.

“Fuck that was hot.” I chuckle breathlessly, his eyebrows raising teasingly at me. “See? We can do this.” He nods, not needing any more convincing as he rests in between my thighs. Feeling him pressed against me, just flimsy layers of clothes separating us makes my mind fuzzy.

“Fuck you’re so warm.” He whispers, his forehead resting against mine as he peers down in between us and I move my thighs instinctively to wrap around his waist, pulling him even more against me as he moans, my lips taking advantage of the moment. The kiss is messy as his hips rut into mine, the movement completely out of his control at this point. I moan loudly at the feeling of him nudging against my clit, the fire in my belly growing hotter and hotter with every touch. “Fuck, I need you.” He whispers against my lips, my arms wrapping around his neck to claw at his back. I chuckle breathlessly, my reply coming out stuttered and slow.

“Then come on.” I urge with a smile, my back arching off the bed as he laughs. His fingers reach around my back, his tongue poking out as he attempts to unlatch my bra and, though he struggles for a moment, his eyes closing in concentration, he finally gets it with a proud laugh. He pulls the material away from my body before tossing it to the ground without care, pressing his lips to my chest, no hesitation. I moan loudly as his lips brush over my nipples, the skin heated and sensitive. My hips buck into his, his lips traveling down my sternum and to my stomach. “No, no, no. Come on, please.” I whimper at his teasing, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Let me taste you.” He whispers in a small plea, lips brushing against the tops of my panties and I whimper at the feeling, his fingers gently teasing against my thighs.

“I want you inside of me, please.” I beg and his lips gently press against my clit through my panties and my head falls against the mattress with a thump as I give in, a pleased moan leaving his lips.

“Gotta spend some time in between your thighs.” He whispers, my knees bending as he flattens his tongue against me, humming quietly. My fingers thread through his hair as he sighs, his index finger pulling the clothing to the side. He chuckles gently at the reactions he's dragging out of me and his fingers move to pull my underwear off of my body, tossing them to the floor with my bra as he hums. He crawls up my body, lips finding their home on mine as I whine.

Finally, after a few moments of trying to slip out of his boxers, he’s successful. I feel him rest against me, bumping against my clit as he pulls away from me, his eyes burning into mine.

“You had this planned. You’re the one fucking me.” He mutters teasingly and my head tosses back at his words, my eyes fluttering shut and after few beats of silence, his lips press against my cheek as I sigh. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks quietly, his thumb rubbing into my hip as I smile softly up at him.

“Of course.” I whisper, my fingers gently running through his hair. “Don’t feel bad if you finish and I don’t.” I add, his eyes rolling playfully as his cheeks warm. "Old man."

“Either way, you’re cumming." He whispers gruffly, his naughty words contradicting his tone that sounds like a promise. I feel him position himself against me, my heart pounding in my ears as I grip onto his shoulders, preparing myself for what's to come with nervous butterflies in my stomach.. “Shh.” He whispers, gently placing kisses along my skin as he tucks himself into the crook of my neck as he slowly pushes into me, the sting of the stretch makes me gasp. His hands gently rub my hips, trying his best to soothe me. “Ohhh fuck.” He moans, his hips stilling as he bottoms out. I take deep breaths, tears pricking my eyes as he kisses my cheek softly. “You okay?” He asks, his eyes finding mine in the dark room as I moan.

“Burns. In a good way, though.” I let out a small laugh, the groan leaving his lips makes my walls flutter around him.

“Fuck you are so-” He cuts himself off, twitching inside of me and I hum, feeling so full and safe with him wrapped around me. “So warm and- fuck- tight.” He whispers, gently sucking on the sensitive skin of my neck, probably leaving marks but I can't find it in me to care. I relax into him, the feeling of his fingers gently kneading the skin of my breast making the burning sensation dies down a bit. He gently pulls out before thrusting back in, a moan leaving my lips at the feeling. The way that he seems to be filling me, make my legs tremble, moans leave my lips uncontrollably; that's hot enough on its own.

After a few minutes, the pain wears off and his thrusts speeding up. Our moans and whimpers mix in the room, his lips occasionally finding mine in a messy kiss. I’m completely soaked now, dripping around him and onto the bed below us. One of his hands travels down to wrap a hand around my thigh, hoisting it high on his hip as I squeal.

“That feel good?” He asks, my head throwing back as I moan loudly. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He chuckles happily into the crook of my neck, his thrusts deep and slow as I hold onto him as if I'll evaporate from his grasp. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.” I know that either way I’m going to end up enjoying myself and, deciding to take things into my own hands, I clench around him, enjoying the way that he stutters out a breathy moan.

“You can cum. I want you to.” I whisper, my lips skimming against the shell of his ear and he moans loudly, hips pounding into mine as he grips my waist, chasing his high as I thread my fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug. He groans loudly and his shoulders strain deliciously as he gasps, fingers fisting the sheets beside to me.

“Come on, Daryl. Please.” I whisper, my fingers gently pulling at his hair as he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his hips thrusting a few more times before slowing their pace and I can feel the way he's filled me out when he thrusts out of me the slightest bit.

Quiet breaths leave his lips, his back heaving with strained breathes and the room settles in a comfortable silence, my fingers gently raking through his unruly hair, the other hand rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he rests his weight on me.

His hips rest between my trembling ones, still buried inside of me as he softens and I find my place gently press kisses to his temple, his head shifting to press a kiss to my throat. No words are said, there’s nothing to say. We sit in a comfortable silence, arms wrapped around each other. I can tell he’s shy, his face not leaving my shoulder as I feel his eyelashes blink against my skin.

I gently run my fingers through his hair once more before moving to rest on his jaw, tilting his chin upwards. I look down at the sleepy man, his eyes blinking slowly, a shy smile on his lips.

“Sleepy?” I ask, a small hum leaving his lips as he closes his eyes, rolling over and using his discarded shirt to clean the two of us before pulling me into his arms. I rest with my head on his chest, his hands pulling at the blankets to cover our naked bodies, figuring we'll worry about the logistics and feelings of what we just did in the morning.

Well that took no time at all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

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wantonlywindswept · 1 year

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Good Dad Paz pt 4

one | two | three

wherein good dad paz has some bad dad trauma to work through, and dumb dad din tries to play devil’s advocate against himself

hoping the backstory comes through in a way that makes sense? feel free to lmk if not.

adding ‘vod’ (sibling, comrade) to the untranslated mando’a list b/c i needed ‘brother’ for other things. may or may not go back to change previous versions

---

Of the many issues Paz knew Din had, he'd never expected self-worth to be one of them.

In retrospect, he probably should have.

"My original task was to bring Grogu to his people," Din said, after sitting back by the fire and recounting his journeys since the massacre on Nevarro. They'd never had a chance to talk about it on Glavis; Paz had been too bitter to try. "I knew that I couldn't keep him. It was...easier, to remain unattached."

Paz looked down at the child. Grogu was leaning against apparently-not-his-father's thigh, cooing contentedly, little hands still wrapped around the now empty cup. Din's hand rested atop his head in a seemingly unconscious gesture, thumb absently smoothing down one ridiculously long ear.

Paz was pretty sure Din became attached to that kid within less than an hour of meeting him.

"You are no longer unattached," he pointed out, "And the Jedi are no longer his people. We are."

Din inhaled a sharp breath, stilling.

Had he truly not considered that?

Paz studied him for a few more moments, taking in his protective posture, his hunched shoulders. The way he occasionally looked down at Grogu like he still wasn't sure why the kid was there; like he thought that at any moment, the child might change his mind and leave.

Ah.

This, Paz understood.

"You think you would make a bad father," he concluded.

Din tensed, but didn't reply. Paz tilted his head in understanding.

After all, he knew the feeling.

Paz leaned back against the wall, tapping his fingers idly against one of his cuisses. A slow beat, calming: one of the old remembrance songs turned into a simple rhythm.

"We," he said, "Are not kind men."

Din did not object. Paz didn't expect him to.

"You have hunted bounties with no thought given to if they deserve it. I have killed beings whose only crime was wandering too near the covert. We chose to follow a Creed that put our people over all else. This is the Way."

"This is the Way," Din murmured. The words sounded flat on his tongue, hesitant, as if wondering if he had the right to speak them.

"We chose to be Mandalorian. And every day, Ragnar continues to choose to be my child. Every day, I am humbled by his choice. No matter what I think of myself or who I may be, he is the one who decided that I am a father worthy of him."

"Grogu is too young to choose," Din said flatly.

Paz snorted.

"To swear the Creed, maybe. But if he could choose between staying with the Jedi or being with you, he can choose to become your son. It sounds like he already has."

"He doesn't have to be," Din argued. "We are all raised together; he could be part of the covert without tying himself to me. I don't need to be his father."

Din had a very punchable face. Paz forgot that, sometimes. But he'd already taken off his gloves, and he wasn't in the mood to break his knuckles against that empty beskar skull.

The two of them tended to solve most of their disagreements with their fists: they were, after all, Mandalorian, and shouting matches were harder with broken ribs. It had been that way since they were children, squabbling over who got the last slice of uj'alayi, or who did better in training. The fights got longer and more bitter as they got older, but there was always a sense of catharsis afterward, no matter who won.

It was, frankly, better than the alternative.

Paz studied his vod, his friend, and remembered a shellshocked young face beneath a mop of brown curls. He remembered a quiet boy learning the Way and never once questioning his place in the covert--even when perhaps he should have.

"I never thought," Paz said slowly, deliberately, "That you would be so cruel to deny a child a Clan, as you were."

He'd heard Din make less agonized sounds from being stabbed.

"No," Din choked out. His grip tightened on Grogu, enough to make the little one squeak in concern. "No, that's not what-- I would never--"

"You treat him as your own," Paz continued ruthlessly. "You have fought and bled for him, cared for him when no one else did. You broke the Creed to put his safety above all else. Are those not the actions of a parent?"

"But--"

Paz stood, frustration and real fury caught behind his teeth as he glared down at his stupid, ignorant almost-brother.

Din always knew best how to make him angry.

"He left safety with the Jedi and crossed the galaxy to return to you, and you would sit here and deny him a place at your side?" he demanded. "Would you have him also follow after you on his knees, hoping for a family that he will never be granted?"

"Paz--"

Paz wouldn't do this again. He wouldn't stand by and watch as another child was crushed by disappointment, strung along with promises of belonging to a Clan: pushing themselves to their limits to prove their worthiness, only to fail, because there was never the possibility of winning in the first place. Because love couldn't--shouldn't--be earned, and family wasn't something that should be used as a reward.

He wouldn't allow it. Not now, not when he actually had the ability to prevent it, now that he wasn't a fucking coward--

"Maybe," Paz snarled, "You really should have been a Vizsla."

Din's fist collided with his face.

He hadn't removed his gloves.

Copper blossomed across Paz's tongue as his head snapped to the side. He immediately retaliated, kicking Din savagely in the gut just below his beskar. Din stumbled back with a gasping wheeze, and while Paz didn't delude himself about his normal chances against him--Din won their bouts seventy percent of the time--he, unlike apparently Din himself, was aware that one of them was still injured.

Grogu scurried over to Din, who was doubled over in pain. The child fixed Paz with what was unmistakably a glare, one tiny green hand resting on the top of Din's boot.

The accusatory expression on such a young face chased the rage from Paz's throat. He sighed, shoulders slumping, fists loosening into open hands.

He really did prefer fights where they could just hit each other. Those always hurt less.

"Din," he said, "That kid is already your son. So what kind of father are you going to be?"

#good dad paz #mandalorian fanfiction #liz writes the mandalorian #paz vizsla #din djarin #grogu djarin #finally committed to paz backstory!#and the backstory is that vizslas are dicks #present and future generation excluded #'hehe look at this cute fic about paz being a good dad!'#'it's so sweet!'#'let's add in some ~trauma~'#anyway how bout that ep huh #looking forward to seeing paz safe and happy and alive in the next one #can't wait #🙃#lithdraug

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

Text

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Fifteen. “eyes eyes eyes.”

word count: 5.9k (not including pictures) warnings: swearing

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you know? anyway uh....... hope you like this... a lot is kinda going on in this part... but more details will come in the next chapter don’t worry i’m not scamming you

_____

"I can't believe you," Dream scoffed from the other side of the phone, which was displaying only his eyes and up as Y/n's phone laid face up towards her ceiling. She didn't mind; he had pretty eyes and his blond hair poked out wildly beneath his hoodie and it was enough to make her only half focus on their conversation about her newest Minecraft build.

Y/n smiled as she glanced back at her phone to see him squinting at his screen in confusion even though there was no face on the other side, then looked back at her monitor. Neither of them were streaming but were bored so they decided to wander around on the SMP, continuing their all-day FaceTime call instead of transferring to Discord. They were on their fifth hour of FaceTiming at this point. Y/n had suggested multiple times switching to voice call instead since she wasn't showing her face, hoping he would say no so she could see him still, and each time he denied it because he claimed it felt more real when he could see her ceiling. Whatever that meant.

"I don't know what to tell you, bud. I'm just playing the game."

"But..." he pouted, she could tell by his voice... and by the eyes that were still glued to the call. "How are you so good?"

"Magic."

"I knew it."

She giggled and looked back to Minecraft, where she was looking at the massive hideout Sam had helped her build, complete with secret doors and tunnels and a whole lot of redstone. "Sam did most of it."

"Bullshit. Look at that," he said as he looked away from the phone and his green avatar punched the side of the build. "That has 'Bug' written all over it. You did that."

"Okay, I did do that part, but the cool parts like the secret doors and stuff are all Sam."

"Stop downplaying your skills. It looks good, Bug." His voice was clear and genuine and sent chills down her spine. For someone who want physically affectionate, she really wanted to give him a big hug. And... well... other things.

"Thanks, Dream," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back childishly.

"What in the..." Y/n said as she turned and saw a familiar Minecraft character with a white and red shirt in the distance. She pressed the zoom hotkey and stared at him as he filled her screen. "What is he doing?"

"Oh, speaking of Tommy," Dream started, clearing his throat as his avatar ran back and forth between the door of her hideout and a tree about ten blocks from it. "Um, I had an idea about, uh, the lake thing? The New Years' trip?"

"What's up?" she asked, turning to face him as she listened.

"Well, it's only about three weeks away and I was thinking—"

Dream was cut off as Tommy ran over to hit him with an axe a couple of times before running away.

"What the hell?" Dream grumbled as they watched Tommy sprint and jump in the direction he came from. The young boy paused when he realized neither of them were following, just looking in his direction.

<TommyInnit> did I scare you guys <TommyInnit> I did, didn't I <TommyInnit> I am very good at scaring people

Y/n laughed and typed her reply

<BugsyGames> not one single bone in my body was scared, tommyinnit <BugsyGames> try harder next time ig :/ <TommyInnit> JOIN VC RIGHT NOW <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Oh my gosh, he's so annoying," Dream mumbled with a small laugh but made no effort to do as the younger told.

<BugsyGames> idk if i really wanna HEAR you curse me out bc you already have over text multiple times <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Are you gonna join?" she asked, opening Discord on her other monitor.

"Hell no," Dream scoffed before his voice turned worrisome. "Are you?"

"Yeah, he's entertaining," she said. "And he won't leave us alone until one of us pays attention to him."

"Oh, you wanna be left alone with me, Bug?" he teased and she couldn't help but smile widely in embarrassment.

"Whatever you want to think I said, Dream." Y/n laughed, making Dream pout.

"Buuugg... just say you love me already," he whined jokingly.

Since she couldn't ignore the overwhelming butterflies in her stomach, she ignored him and opened Discord and looked at the voice channel Tommy was in. "Oh, Tubbo and Ranboo are there too, so it's worth getting cursed out," she told Dream before sliding on her headphones and joining. She moved one side off of her ear so she could still hear Dream over FaceTime if he spoke to her, seeing as he wasn't going to join the Discord call.

"Hi—"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" Tommy started yelling quickly. "I'M NOT AFRAID TO FIGHT A GIRL, I HAVE FOUGHT MANY WOMEN AND HAVE WON EVERY TIME."

"Uh... geesh Tommy, no hello?" Y/n asked. "Why do you get in so many fights with women?"

"They question my manliness."

"Hm. Maybe work on making it less questionable?"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"What is... happening?" Ranboo asked.

"I don't really know. Tommy came over and punched Dream and then made me join vc so he could yell at me, I guess."

"Oh, that's where he went!" Tubbo said. "I had no idea, he just disappeared."

"I HAD TO GO HIT DREAM BECAUSE HE'S TALKING TO A FEMALE AND I WANTED HIM TO LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF HER."

"What is he saying to you?" Dream asked from the phone on the desk. "He's yelling at you?"

"No, it's just Tommy being Tommy."

"W-What?" Tommy asked.

"I was talking to Dream," she explained.

"I can get on and tell him to stop if you need me to," Dream offered before his keyboard started clicking. "Should I? Do you want me to?"

"No, Dream, it's okay. I'll just fight him."

"YOU'RE WITH HIM??" Tommy accused.

"No! We're on FaceTime."

"YOU'RE FACETIMING HIM?"

"Yup," she stated before quickly changing the subject since Tommy and Ranboo were both streaming. "What are my sons up to?"

"We're just trident-ing around talking about whether or not my or Tommy's accent is worse," Tubbo said. "He says 'grass' weird."

"Tommy's," Y/n voted, wanting to piss off the youngest more. "You have the voice of an angel, Tub."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that Bugsy and Dream are FaceTiming right now?" Tommy asked in a calmer, more mumbled but still frantic voice. "Cause, I mean, I just think it's a bit strange is all but if we're just going to breeze past it, I mean... you know? The two faceless Minecrafters are staring into each other's eyes while we all talk on Discord like nothing is happening."

"We aren't 'staring into each other's eyes'," Y/n corrected.

She paused when Dream giggled and said, "I bet you're staring into mine, Bug." She glanced down to see his full face beaming up at her with a playful smile. He had propped his phone up on his monitor so she could see where his elbows met his desk all the way to the top of his fluffy hair. Her cheeks and neck burned hot as she looked at the boy cuddled up in his hoodie once again. He folded his arms on his desk and placed his chin on his forearms, looking impossibly cuter as he stared at the camera. "There's no way for me to know you aren't."

"Shut up, Dream," she mumbled before speaking to the others again. "We're not even showing our faces," she lied. "Dream sorta is but not really."

"No need to lie to everyone," Dream said, still smiling, sitting up from his position. "This is my entire face. What, you don't want people to know you get to see me whenever you want? You have VIP access, baby, the people should know."

An abrupt laugh escaped her lips at the nickname. "Can you guys hear Dream?" Y/n asked the boys in the voice channel nervously.

"No, why? Is he telling you dirty things?" Tommy laughed evilly.

"Nope. Just wondering." Her face was on fire. She hit Dream's character in-game and watched him focus back on his computer with a goofy smile. He returned the favor by hitting her character back once even though she was continually dealing damage until he had half a and begged her to stop.

"He's probably flirting with her like he does when we're on call but, like, worse because no one else can hear him," Tubbo proposed before all three of the young boys gagged and yelled over each other.

"GROSS!!" Tommy shouted.

"Ew!! Mom, is there a dude flirting with you? That's disgusting," Ranboo gagged.

"I cannot stand you guys," Y/n laughed, making her voice as confident as possible so they couldn't detect her lies. "That's not what's happening."

"Do my words mean nothing, Bug?"

"Dude," she mumbled to Dream again. "I wish you could see how hard I'm glaring at you right now." He laughed in response.

A knock on Y/n's door snapped her out of her conversation and she quickly muted on Discord. "Come in!"

Naomi poked her head in and quickly put her hand up. "Oh, sorry!" she whisper-shouted. "I didn't know you were streaming."

Y/n shook her head and smiled. "I'm not. What's up?"

"TUBBO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Tommy screamed, making Y/n deafen also.

Naomi stood taller and dropped her hand to her side. "I'm just bored and want to do something."

"I do too, actually," Y/n admitted.

"You're bored?" Dream scoffed. "Bug, I'm offended!"

Y/n smiled widely and turned back to her phone to see the blond boy frowning. "I've talked to you all day. Can I not go hang out with my roommate?"

"No! Tell her to fuck off."

"Dream! She's literally right here, she can hear you!" Y/n covered her phone screen with her hand to hide Dream's face as Naomi walked closer, laughing.

"Naomi?" Dream asked.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

Naomi laughed as Y/n gasped. "DREAM!" Y/n grabbed her phone and held it up to show one eye in the corner of the screen so he could see her glaring, but he wasn't looking.

"I'm just kidddinnnggg... obviouslyyy..." he dragged out. "Unless you do steal Bug away from me, in which case I'm not kidding."

Naomi was silent with her hand over her mouth, not wanting to freak out and make Y/n back out before Dream could see her eye. It was a small thing, but a huge deal.

The silence caused Dream to look down and his jaw dropped. "B-Bug!!"

"You see this?? I'm glaring at you. How dare you talk to Naomi that way," Y/n reprimanded teasingly, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

"WHAT? Is this how you felt when I showed my face just to prove a point?"

"Probably."

"You're doing the exact thing I did! You're just proving a point!"

"Yeah, but I'm not showing my whole face like you did, idiot. Just enough so you can see the glare."

"Oh my gosh. Okay, yeah, I see you glaring, stop glaring!" he giggled and Y/n's camera went back to only showing her ceiling as she smiled. "I'm sorry, Naomi!"

"You can't just joke like that to someone you hardly know," Y/n scolded as Naomi continued laughing. She knew Naomi had that kind of sense of humor, but Dream didn't.

"Who said I'm joking?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up. I can't stand you."

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry, Naomi. I was just kidding."

"I know," she reassured. "It's all good, don't worry. I know you love your Bug too much to hurt her friends."

Y/n saw Dream quickly pull his phone away from his face after he smiled shyly, and she liked to imagine that he was blushing at Naomi's accusation.

"Yeah, I guess she's nice to have around," he mumbled.

<Ranboo> bugsy? you still there?

"Wait, both of you quiet for a second," she told Dream and Naomi before unmuting and undeafening on Discord. "Yeah, sorry, what's up? I was defended and muted."

"You were so cryptically silent, it was a little scary."

"Sorry, my roommate is talking to me. I'm gonna head off, actually."

"Aw, but we hardly got to play with you!" Tubbo pouted.

"We'll play soon! I promise! But not you, Tommy. I don't like you."

"I DON'T LIKE YOU FIRST, YOU EVIL WOMAN."

"Bye, Tommy."

"Bye, Bugsy," he grumbled.

"Goodbye, mother," Ranboo said as Tubbo laughed out a, "Goodbye mom," making Y/n's heart shed a proud tear.

"Goodbye, my sons. Be good. Be safe."

"Bye!!"

She left the Discord and then left Minecraft. "Okay, sorry, continue," she promoted Naomi.

"I think it's so cute how you talk to Tubbo and Ranboo," Dream cut in. "It's adorable."

"It is," Naomi agreed. "Tommy, too. I know you pretend to hate him but we can tell you want him to be your son too."

"Never," she murmured, making both of them laugh. She slid off her headphones and grabbed her phone, careful to keep it pointed away from her face as she walked to her closet.

"Anyway, I just wanna do something. It's really nice out today, do you want to go to the park or ride bikes or something?"

"Yeah, sure." She ripped a hoodie off the hanger with one hand, making the hanger ricochet and clank against the closet ceiling.

"Yeah, sounds fun," Dream agreed from between them.

Y/n laughed. "Sorry, bud, not you."

A deep frown etched onto Dream's face and Y/n laughed. "What are you going to do there that I can't join? You can just prop me up on a tree and sit next to the phone."

"If we ride bikes, I can't hold you. And if we go to the park we usually skate. Besides, we want to talk about how much we hate you anyway so we don't want you there."

"Bug!" he pouted. Dream paused before saying, "Can you give the phone to Naomi real quick?"

Y/n hesitated but handed the phone to her friend. She used her free hands to slip on the hoodie before tuning back into the conversation.

"You don't have to show me your face but I want you to look into my eyes and promise me something, Naomi," he said.

Naomi held the phone up to her face anyway and Y/n could see both of them looking at each other. "What's up?"

"Promise me you won't let Y/n fall and scrape her knee or something," he requested and Naomi laughed.

"I promise not to let your Bug get hurt." That was the second time Naomi referred to her as 'his Bug' and she was not opposed to the sound of it.

"Thank you very much."

"Great," Naomi said before her voice turned teasing. "Now that that's settled, Y/n, you're right he is cute!"

Naomi was a pot-stirrer. Always was, always would be. She knew what to say to make tension rise in the room whether it was between people who hated each other or people who secretly liked each other. Or whatever Dream and Y/n were.

While Y/n's face grew warm, Dream laughed.

"Hey, you're pretty cute too, Naomi. Should I tell George or does he already know?" Dream fired back, trying to embarrass her as much as she embarrassed Y/n.

Naomi's evil smile fell before a confident one took its place with a raise of her eyebrow. "Oh, he knows."

Y/n laughed abruptly and grabbed the phone back from her friend. "Okay, I'm hanging up now." Before I lose self-control and show you my whole face right here, right now, she thought to herself.

"Boooo," Dream whined. "Will you call me back later? Please?"

"Maybe," she teased. "Depends on if I'm clumsy enough to fall and break everything like you think I will."

"I don't think that. I just want you to be safe."

He needed to stop being so sweet. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm a pro."

"I believe it. Still, though."

"I'll be safe. I promise."

"Also, Bug, um..." he paused shyly. "You have really pretty eyes. Just... thought I'd tell you."

Heat rose to her face again and the look on Naomi's face said she could tell.

"Thanks, Dream."

Naomi nodded her head towards her Y/n's door. "I'll be in my room," she whispered and Y/n nodded.

"Sorry," Y/n said to Dream with a short laugh. "I don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," he reassured. "I appreciate it. I know it was just a small part of your face but it still means a lot to me that you showed me because I know you haven't shown anyone."

"I want to," she blurted out. "I really, really do."

"Want to what?"

"Show people my face." She squeezed her eyes shut and walked to her bed, setting the phone face up towards the ceiling. "Specifically you."

He paused. "Then... why don't you? I'm not pressuring you, I just don't understand. If you want to, then what's stopping you?"

"It's not that simple, Dream," she responded softly. "I'm scared."

Dream was silent for a few moments. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk about earlier before Tommy came in."

"Really?" she perked up. What was he going to say? That she seemed too scared so he didn't what her to go on the trip?

"Yeah, uh, I know you're nervous about meeting everyone and Sapnap and I were talking and– well, okay, so I assume you, Karl, and Naomi are going to go to Georgia together?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, so, yeah, what if– only if you want, obviously, but, you guys could come down to Florida and hang out with us for a few days and then, like, the five of us could go up to Georgia together? That way you meet two people first instead of everyone at once. So, like, since you haven't shown anyone, it'll be like dipping your toe in the water and if you meet Sapnap and I and absolutely hate it you can go back home before meeting everyone else." He finally concluded his proposition and Y/n's heart was so warmed. He was so sweet it was killing her.

"I'll still pay for all the travel stuff for you guys to fly down here," he added with a shy mumble at her silence, "and it's only a four and a half hour drive from here so Sapnap and I were just going to drive up and we could just rent a bigger car to fit comfortably. But obviously you can say no. Just a thought we had."

"Dream," Y/n started softly, her voice coming out way more fondly than she intended but she did nothing to fix it.

"Yeah?"

"You're the sweetest damn person I've ever met in my entire life."

"I just want you to be comfortable," he said softly.

"I think..." she paused. "I think that would be fun. I'd like that. I'll see what Naomi and Karl think."

His voice perked up slightly. "Really? Awesome. You guys can come down whenever. We're going to leave on the 26th to get there that night but whenever you guys want to come, you can. You could even spend Christmas with us if you want to come a few days earlier. Might be hard to find tickets this late since it's the holidays but I can see what I can find."

"That would be cool! The three of us were just going to hang out together so we don't really have plans for Christmas. I'll ask them but I think they'll like that too."

"Cool," he breathed. "If you want to say no later, you can."

"I don't want to say no, Dream."

He paused and his next word had his smile laced clearly through them. "Okay."

"Thank you–thank you for thinking of me," Y/n fumbled out. "It means a lot to me."

"Eh, it might be a little selfish of me, too. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can."

She beamed and bit her lip to not laugh with pure joy. "I'm probably selfish too because I'm going to make Karl and Naomi agree even if they don't want to go."

"I have no problem if you need to use physical force," he joked.

Y/n laughed and shook her head. "I should go save Naomi from her boredom."

"Okaaayyy..." he sighed. "If you must. Thanks for talking with me today."

"I had fun! I'm surprised you didn't bore me to death," she teased and he scoffed.

"Well apparently I did since you're ditching me!"

"Nooo, you could never bore me."

"Hmm... sure."

"Dream," Y/n dragged out and he laughed. "You're so clingy."

"Ugh, I know," he joked. "It's almost like I like you or something."

Y/n froze before mentally scolding herself. He was obviously joking, but it still made her heart skip some beats.

"Almost," she mumbled. "Alright, I'm going to go. I'll call you later if you're free and want to hang out on call more or something."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said. "Have fun with Naomi! And don't get hurt."

She laughed. "I won't get hurt. Bye, Dream."

"Bye bye, Bug."

Y/n finally hung up and threw her phone on her bed with a small external scream. Naomi came back into the room a few moments later with a smirk on her face and leaned against the doorframe. "Done with the call?"

"Naomi..." she said dreamily. "He's... too freaking cute."

Naomi laughed. "Come on, lover girl, you can tell me all about it while we go outside. Bikes or skating?"

"I haven't gone biking in a while, let's do that."

"Perfect, I found a new trail recently I've wanted to try out," Naomi said as she grabbed her keys off the front table. "Let's go."

"OH, and then," Y/n recounted her story with Dream in detail (per Naomi's request) and she swerved on her bike a little in excitement."Then he said, 'it's almost like I like you or something'! What does that mean??"

Naomi laughed brightly and looked over her shoulder at Y/n. "Maybe it means that he likes you."

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Don't get my hopes up."

"I mean it, Y/n. I know you think it's not possible, but just think about it. Do you really think you didn't like him until you saw him?"

Y/n looked up into the treetops that provided shade on their trail. She dreaded that question. She had thought about it so many times, tossing and turning countless nights asking herself the same question over and over. When did she start liking Dream? She had always had interest in him but when did her starstruck admiration and wanting to be his friend turn into wanting to hold his hand and kiss him good morning? When did that change happen? Could it have happened before she knew what he looked like? It would go against so much that she believed, so much she had been told, but... maybe it was true?

"I don't know," Y/n admitted softly. "I really don't know."

Naomi's heart broke for her friend, knowing her internal battle was killing her slowly. "Hey," Naomi said in a lighter tone than she felt. "It'll all work out. I promise."

"What if it doesn't? What if he really doesn't like me and won't ever like me?"

Naomi shrugged. "Then... then he missed out and someone better will eventually come along."

Y/n nodded, wanting to talk about something a little happier. "So... I showed him my eye."

"You did," Naomi said cautiously. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but, damn dude. How do you feel?"

"Good. Great. I know it's small and insignificant but it doesn't feel that way."

"I don't think it's insignificant. It definitely shows you trust him a lot."

"He said I have pretty eyes," Y/n whispered excitedly, making Naomi laugh.

"You do! You really do."

"Speaking of thinking things are pretty, George knows?? What does that mean? Have you guys video called or what? I've been so stuck in my pity party that I have no idea what's going on with that!"

Naomi turned pink but her confident smile never faded. She slowed down and Y/n followed suit, both taking drinks from their water. "Can we sit for a minute?" Naomi asked as she nodded towards a large tree trunk. Y/n nodded and they sat down together, bikes haphazardly thrown to the side of the trail.

"So?"

"So," Naomi started. "George."

"George," Y/n prompted. "What's going on?"

"I like him a lot. And... he told me he likes me."

Y/n raised her eyebrows and beamed at her friend. "Really? Naomi, that's great! That's so awesome, I'm so happy for you!"

Naomi let out a small squeal before blushing. "I know. We're both a little worried because of long-distance but we decided to not think about it until after the trip. Then we'll work out how often we want to see each other and stuff."

"Wait, so, are you guys, like, dating?"

Naomi hummed. "No? But I have joked about how I'm going to kiss him as soon as I see him and it always makes him turn bright red and he just laughs and is like, 'you're an idiot', so that's a good sign."

Y/n laughed. "Yeah, sounds like George."

"Sorry I haven't told you sooner. I just feel like since you're so confused about everything with Dream that it would be like I'm bragging or something? And I didn't want to make you sad that I'm talking to this boy so much and—"

"Naomi," Y/n smiled and grabbed her arm. "It's okay. I'm not upset by it. I'm so so happy for you, really."

Naomi let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Y/n. You're a really good friend."

"You make it easy to be a good friend to you," she said with a smile and a scrunched nose. "You're the best. I love you."

"I love you too," Naomi giggled and threw her arms around Y/n, forcing a hug even if she didn't want it. Y/n accepted it anyway, hugging her friend back tightly.

"Alright, break's over. Let's finish this thing. How much more do we have to go?"

Naomi checked the map on her phone. "About a mile. Think you can manage not falling off for another mile?"

"What?"

"I promised Dream I wouldn't let you get hurt."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly. "He's so stupid."

"Maybe, but you like it."

"Who on Earth knows why? Oh! That reminds me," Y/n said as she got back on her bike and rode slowly next to Naomi. "I forgot to mention a huge detail."

"Ugh, you never stop talking about him," Naomi teased. "Just kidding, what happened? I want to know everything."

"This involves you and Karl. How do you feel about taking a detour to Florida before the trip?"

______

When Y/n got home, she showered while Naomi made them dinner. "Today was fun," she said as she sat down at the kitchen table. "We need to hang out more, just the two of us. Thank you so much," she added as Naomi handed her a plate off food.

Naomi nodded. "Agreed. But when do we ever have time when you aren't streaming and I'm not doing school or working?"

"Hmm, true. For a job with a flexible schedule, I don't feel very flexible. Maybe I should promise to join less streams."

"But then I can't join streams," Naomi joked with a laugh.

"Just ask George. I'm not your closest streamer friend anymore apparently," she fake pouted and Naomi blushed.

"He wants me to join one of his streams except neither of us want anyone to know so he thinks it'll be suspicious if it's just him and I."

'Wait, no one else knows you two have been talking?"

"Well, Dream does based on his joke earlier but you're the only person that either of us have told that we're, like, actually talking."

"Oh, I feel so special!"

Naomi laughed. "Good. You are."

Y/n smiled and looked down as her phone vibrated on the table.

"Boyfriend calling?" Naomi teased with one eyebrow quirked.

Y/n stuck her tongue out. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"I would like that. Date him."

"Oh, shut up," Y/n said with a laugh. "But actually, Dream invited me to get back on and hang out."

"So I was right?"

"No."

"Well, go ahead, I won't stop you."

"Thanks, Naomi. I had fun today, thanks for forcing me out of my room and for dinner."

"Anytime dude," she giggled. "Put that sponge down, I'll clean up."

"But you made dinner. Let me help."

"No! Go, your boyfriend is waiting for you. I got it."

Y/n ignored her and started cleaning dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

"You're the worst. Love you."

"Love you!" Y/n called back as she walked to her room. She got on her desktop and opened Discord while she waited for Minecraft to load.

"Who just joined?" Tubbo asked in a tired voice. "Oh, Bugsy, hello again!"

"Hi!" she greeted back. "How's everyone doing?"

"Good, good, good. How was your, uh, thing? Bikes... or something?" Ranboo asked.

"Yeah, I went on a bike ride with my roommate. It was fun! The weather was super good today so it was good."

"Is it the roommate who's coming on the trip with us?" Tubbo asked.

"Yup," she replied. Ranboo fake whined and Y/n's heart hurt a little. "Ranboo I wish you could come."

"Me too. It would be fun but also very scary," he chuckled and Y/n nodded. "But I'm busy anyway."

"I'm terrified," she admitted. "So I fully understand."

"It's going to be good, Bug," Dream reassured softly, sending butterflies to her stomach. "I promise."

"Why are you terrified?" Tubbo asked.

"Um... just... you know... showing my face to everyone," she said with a small laugh. "Kinda weird." Though, admittedly, she was much less nervous than a few hours ago before she showed Dream her eye.

"Well, Dream has seen you, hasn't he?" Ranboo asked.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"He hasn't?" Tubbo spoke up. "I'm shocked! I could have sworn he had."

"What, why? Dream asked.

"You guys are just super close so I guess we assumed," Tubbo explained.

"No, we are close, Bug is just a tease," Dream joked and Y/n scoffed.

"Oh, whatever. You've seen more than anyone else."

"What?" Ranboo asked with a slight panic in his voice. "What, uh, what does that mean? Oh gosh."

"She showed me her eye today!" Dream announced like it was a huge deal. Which, it kinda was. "But she's a tease because that's all she showed."

"Why do you want to see her so bad, huh Dream?" Ranboo teased. "Hmm???"

"So I can call her pretty without her yelling at me that I can't know," Dream stated bluntly.

Y/n buried her face in her hands, the Minecraft welcome screen long forgotten, and laughed. "I cannot stand you, Dream."

"Awe!!" Tubbo cooed. "Bugsy, give the poor man a break, why don't you show him?"

When she normally would have taken that sort of comment to heart and would have beaten herself up about not showing him, she lifted her head to look at her screen. 'Give the poor man a break'.

"No, Tubbo, she doesn't owe me anything," Dream said with a nervous laugh. "Don't pressure her!!"

"I'm not! I'm not pressuring her to do anything!" Tubbo defended. "I was just joking! But it would be so easy to just send a picture of your face."

"But she doesn't want to and I respect that. Ranboo, are you still on the SMP? Where are you?"

Y/n tuned out the conversation, which had quickly changed topics, scrolling right to the picture she found the other day of her sitting on her bed. She didn't think twice. It just felt right.

Sent

"So, the next manhunt is going to have five hunters or what? Like what's changing?" Ranboo asked. "I think it's super cool that you're continuing the series."

"Yeah," Dream started to explain. "I'm trying to see who would be the best to have as the fifth person to make it—"

Y/n's heart pounded in her ears as she listened to the new silence, waiting for some verbal indication from Dream that everything was okay. That he saw the picture and that everything was still okay.

But he was dead silent.

"Dream?" Ranboo laughed. "Uhhhhh...."

"Uh.." Tubbo laughed too. "Did he break? Dream?"

Y/n bit down on her hoodie sleeve in anticipation and excitement, surprised that there were butterflies in her chest instead of raging thunderstorms of fear.

A loud sound banged through her headphones and her eyes darted to the Discord to see it came from Dream's mic. "Dream?" she asked softly. Did this man just knock something off of his desk?

His regard for them being on call with others completely evaporated. "Holy shit, Bug," he breathed out. "I-Is that you?"

"Sure is," she hummed.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, joy and surprise laced in his voice.

"Wait, what happened?" Tubbo asked before sounding excited. "Did you actually send him a picture of yourself?"

"Mhm," she hummed. "Maybe."

"AHHA! YOU BROKE HIM!" Tubbo laughed.

"Error: Dream.exe broke," Ranboo teased. "Man's files broke at the sight of Bugsy Games. Headlines tomorrow: Bugsy Games murders DreamWasTaken with a selfie."

"Oh, shut up," she breathed.

"Text me back right now," Dream demanded.

Y/n giggled as the other two teased Dream but she picked up her phone and found his one-word response.

Seconds later, Dream's voice was back in her ears. "Uh... I'm gonna get off. I have a lot to process."

Tubbo and Ranboo laughed loudly. "A lot to process?? HAHAHA! Just say you're in love with her and move on."

"WhaaAATT?" Dream yelled. "I-I'm not in love with her, what the hell is wrong with you, Tubbo?"

Y/n laughed, agreeing with him even though it kinda hurt. He didn't have to sound too shocked at the accusation.

"Have fun processing," Ranboo said. "Are you staying Bugsy?"

"Nah, I'm gonna get off too. I'm pretty tired."

"Are you going to be in Big Q's stream tomorrow though?"

She hummed. "I don't know. I didn't know he was streaming tomorrow."

"Oh, I thought he invited you?"

"Guess not. He just lost points."

Dream laughed. "Good."

"Well... we should stream together soon," Ranboo said. "I think that would be really cool."

"I do too! We definitely should. If you have any ideas or anything let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, I will!" he promised. "Talk to you later."

"Bye guys," she said before disconnecting. She noticed Dream linger in the call for a little bit even though he said he was leaving and she decided to get ready for bed, turning off her computer and walking to her closet. She was stopped by some texts though. Priorities.

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kicktwine · 3 years

Note

do you have more thoughts on keyblade fighting that you need to put somewhere, because i have two hands ready to catch Should The Need Arise

anon: hey I heard you mention you’d analysed the combat styles in KH and what you said in the tags was already alluding to really neat stuff, but I for one would love to hear more of what you came up with!! so if you ever wanted to share any of your analysis then the floor is yours

aHAH, MY EXCUSE!!

Okay, so first some words on “standardized wielding styles”. These are styles shared by Terra, Aqua, Vanitas, Riku, and Xehanort and every other scala and daybreak kid. I will make the argument that the red style is the fanciest standard style, while the purple is seen often to make it easier on the little chibi sprites. BUT, I cannot discredit Eraqus, who uses the purple variant in bbs, nor can I discredit half of the Foretellers (Gula and Ava, at least, use this. Invi and Aced use the first type). So, two standard styles. For simplicity, let’s say one for primary offense, one for primary defense. The standard offensive style really wasn’t popular before Scala-era society.

check this difference out, specifically between ava invi and gula:

then between eraqus, hermod, and xehanort, and eraqus and terra.

These two were likely popularized and standardized for education in Scala ad Caelum for their predominant lack of obvious weak spots.

After this, we have unique styles. Those include Sora Kairi and Xion’s (similar to standard defense, but more mobile at the expense of form — Kairi takes after Sora but less confident, she hasn’t been hit that heavily yet), Ven’s (backhand, heavy range and mobility), Roxas’ (modified for two keyblades, but takes after Sora), and Axel’s (taught himself, comfortable with chakrams).

So! Let’s go.

Standard (offensive)

All styles have sub-variations, of a sense. Different wielders can choose where their keyblade points, and how they hold it exactly, based on what makes them most comfortable. Terra and Aqua point theirs downward, while Vanitas and Riku hold theirs above their head. What is recognizeable to this style is a hand for the sword, and a hand for guarding/blocking/items/magic.

It’s incredibly efficient. With only one hand on the weapon, you not only free up a hand for other things, but increase your range of movement with said weapon. Test it out yourself! The keyblade hand is always your dominant hand, held behind you for increased power when attacking (since you lose a significant amount of it by choosing not to grip with both hands). This style also decreases the speed of the defense you have, but with that increased mobility and swing power, along with a hand free to brace against the keyblade (defense strength up!), it makes up for it. Many people who use this also have strong barrier spells — both a testament to their preference for coverage and an acknowledgement that any directional block will take a little longer and be weaker if they try it with one hand.

The pointy end, though. What difference does it actually make, the height it’s at?

I think it’s half a matter of attack style preference and half intention. Riku, Vanitas, and Xehanort stab quite a bit. Aqua and Terra slice more. Not that they don’t do both, but it’s the first instinct. Aqua and Terra are also likely taught to hold their keyblade neutrally, in a safe position, until someone starts attacking. It’s polite! Eraqus also holds his one-handed, neutrally, until he gets into position. Riku and Vanitas learned to fight assuming everyone was out to fight them. Invi and Aced may like this style because of range (i hc she’s blind and strikes very very quickly, and he’s already very powerful with just the one arm and wants better motion).

and on character specifics: Terra often switches to two-handed, to copy his dad and add extra power to his hits without always sacrificing the empty hand. Vanitas likely was forced to relearn how to fight, as instead of solely being trained to be better at withstanding, he was constantly being made to better his own attacks. The moves Xehanort uses would best be replicated in the same style. Vanitas is wild for holding the massive spiky x-blade like that.

Now, what‘s good on this style does not correlate to what’s bad in the other. The two standard styles simply have different ways of dealing with each con they create or taking advantage of each pro.

(Here’s an interesting side note — Gula uses standard defensive, but in this instance, swaps. One hand… likely to display confidence! Wrong move, but hey. He got cocky. He’s also doing it wrong, and swaps back to two-handed to take Aced’s attack.)

Standard (defensive)

The main detriment of this style is the lack of ease of long range movement. Hold a wrapping paper tube out in front of you with both hands, then run. It goes to the side, or tucks in to your stomach, right? Dodge. Your legs will get in the way unless you know where to move that sword. It requires, interestingly, a little more discipline. You’d think Aqua would like that, but no, she wants movement and practicality, and she loves magic, and remember that you must take a hand off this style to grab a potion. You’d think young Eraqus wouldn’t, but remember that he’s a fancy royal lad.

The main draw, though, is tankiness, readiness, and power. You don’t need to move as much if nothing dares hit you! Ava and Gula might be attracted to this style because they’re not as physically strong, but want protection in close-quarters fighting. Using this style when your muscles aren’t as big but you still want to Hit Things Good, or when you want to be a boy you can’t knock over with a pail of water (horse stance rules), is probably solid advice.

Traditionally, this is a lot less like fencing, and a lot more like a samurai sword or kendo. Your blade is held in front of you, giving you very easy access to blocks and frontal attack/defense. In losing some twirly spinniness, you gain power and minimize your opponent’s ability to parry and block.

you gotta dodge master Eraqus so mcuh

All styles will swap between one and two hands for different moves. Eraqus, notably, swaps to a stance very similar to Xehanort when channeling a metric ton of magic.

Both of these styles require a degree of upper body/core strength, as does all swordfighting. I would be interested to see someone whose keyblade style relies on leg strength.

Sora, Xion, and Kairi

please look at the difference between the foretellers’ or eraqus’ two-handed grip and Sora’s. Do this with your shoulders and a top-heavy object.

They’re both in a hard stance, but hon. What are you, a gremlin? Anyways, a traditionally taught master would have… better form, even if it’s harder to learn at first. It’s habitual. Sora nearly crouches, and holds his keyblade back-pointed with two hands, which makes it easier for him to dodge roll, push off his feet quickly, and pull off those spinning combos he loves. It‘s really gonna hurt his muscles, in the future, though, since he’s doing a squat for like…. hours. Pulling on those shoulderblades and neck. Xion, too. Replicas had better have correct muscle dynamics. Kairi is brand new, so… maybe Aqua can teach her how to hold a sword so it doesnt hurt you.

Okay, now look at the grip itself. Held in front versus held to the side-back. They’re really attempting to combine both standard styles subconsciously, giving themselves more attack power while really wanting to keep that hard defensive parry, wanting to prevent all attacks to the front while also wanting mobility. It’s working for them really well, they fight like an anime character, and manage to get the best of both, with a minor sacrifice of length range that they don’t care about. We’re flexible and full of magic, baby! Holding the blade like this makes it pretty easy to let go with one hand without sacrificing that crouched defense position.

Now, Sora, specifically, is very adaptive. He’s had two keyblades, claws, guns, yo-yos, and a giant shield, to name a couple. He retains a bit of that alert crouch no matter where he goes, but Sora knows how he wants to attack and how to balance that with the most effective way to use his current weapon. He’s a smart kid! Sora has the most ridiculous shotlocks, which are also probably due to not always wanting to go standard for it. He also prefers to keep his focus on the enemy, which is evident in his reprisals and lack of very many effective “escape” moves.

Xion is very similar to Sora, but she does have some moves that are all movement. She switches to one handed for strikes a lot — using two for defending, one for smacking. In her data battle I’d swear some of those heavy hits are claymore-like. But anyways, since we’re magic, Xion cares not for the laws of exhaustion, and will ping about as a ball of light everywhere. Short range? Up in your business. Mid-range? In your business with one hand. Long range? Throws a boomerang. Hit her? No you dont. Ball of light. She’s above you and wants to bash your head in. (Vanitas also does this! A lot. It’s an easy way to catch someone off-guard. I’ll argue that the soras are very tough and strong, but not tanky. they want to avoid being hit a lot)

Another interesting note about Kairi. I say “unconfident” not because she doesn’t hit hard, but because her stance is also often tilted back, ready to dodge. It’s two handed, but almost all her moves are one. She does love spinning and throwing the thing! It looks like she’s been taking notes from the wielders she knows. It would be easy to teach her a standard style, I think. See here, she lets go on the strike, and by trying to do both, actually ends up with an advantage (being confusing) and disadvantage (losing both the power of two handed and versatility of one handed).

A counter to Sora and Xion is difficult to pin down. Time? Probably. Lack of heating pads. Something that takes all their attention is about the only way to get a sneak attack in, and then you have to hit hard. A counter to Kairi would be anyone who can knock her off balance. She needs a sturdier stance. .

Roxas

Roxas is interesting. He takes after Sora for the one blade. Wielding two, however, nets him a totally different way of fighting. Roxas’ clavicle muscles n… deltoids and stuff must be Ironclad. Also, two handed means you are very fast and sharp all the time. He has the advantage of standard defense (horse stance), and the advantage of offense (range of one sword, but twice).

Roxas generally attacks in two ways — simultaneous hits, and follow-up hits. Either he hits with both at once, or hits hard with the first one, and adds the second one as a bonus smack. He can attack by hitting in opposite directions with the two, like a drum, but that will be a little awkward and leave him prone to being tangled. That established, the follow-up hit method means he spins a bunch. As do we all.

Roxas gets a little complicated because we are not in the real world. We have magic and turning into light and physics that let you become a circular saw. So, typically, disadvantages would include: being unable to let go of a weapon to grab something or use an item, having just a very big silhouette to attack on, having difficulty with close-range attacks because Oathkeeper and Oblivion are kinda long, and convenience. Roxas gets to dodge #1 (keyblades can be unsummoned) and #4 (keyblades can be unsummoned). Speaking of dodging, he also gets to skirt the difficulty of dodging and rolling with two swords because he turns into a beam of light. But he can’t dodge how difficult it is to use two swords effectively — he needs to concentrate on fighting, and nothing else, or he risks messing up. He has to be very, very coordinated, and undistracted. Luckily he’s pretty good at making his opponents shut up, most of the time. Blocking is another thing — theoretically his blocks could be strong, but Roxas has no real brace: crossing your blades and taking a hefty stab might smack one of them back into your face. He mostly uses reversals and dodges, because of this.

The takeaway to this is Roxas is built for speed and power, and he is very strong. He’s a mid- to far- range fighter who if you’re not careful can snap you in half if you’re too close (be SO careful of that cross blade scissor).

A perfect counter to Roxas would be a tank that can grapple, and also be very distracting. If you can take hits, be talkative, and get close enough to stop his blades, you have a chance.

Ventus

This is a bizarre choice, my guy, but I get it.

Backhanded weapons are very impractical for a lot of... attacking, mainly in mid-range combat, and Ven likes to either fight very close or throw the keyblade like a boomerang (and hey, backhand gives it a good whip for throwing). His attacks aren’t meant to one hit KO, but they do come with a bit of power to them, especially on the backslash. Like holding a knife for gouging. It’s for very close defense — pretty good when Wayward Wind and Missing Ache have hooks.

Backhand also, while retaining that empty hand for potions and guarding, gives you an extreme coverage boost. By which I mean Ven’s sword hand now has a nearly 270 degree sweep of “I see you, don’t touch me”, very quickly, based on just flicking his wrist. It sacrifices a ton of strength/sturdiness, but you don’t need that if you’re dodging. You also don’t really need to block, which is slower, but relatively sturdy when Ven does it, as he blocks with mostly the chunky hilt between crossed arms. He sacrifices (again) a bit of strength for coverage — an attack would hurt his arms, not his chest, if he were hit head-on.

His attacks often have him flip the blade around in his hand, too. Quick swaps between standard moves and backhand ones. Basically, Ventus is built for moving, protecting himself, and quick attacks that wear down the enemy, not outclass it. Likely because he’s good at fighting, but everyone he’s fought hits harder than he can! It doesn’t matter how he holds it, getting hit will hurt. So he just. Doesn’t. He’s not a buff little guy — but he is a persistent one. Ven very likely made this up on his own, in Daybreak, and it was too hard to fix his whole style, but it was enough to correct most of his form so he doesn’t hurt himself too much. He is going to have to really stretch that shoulder and wrist (maybe get a brace), though. At least his neck is ok. … not sure about his knees tho dang boy that crouch

A perfect counter to Ven would be someone big and fast, who hits hard mid-range. He’s already been sparring with Terra, though, so when in doubt, try scruffing him?

Axel

Theres not a ton to say about him — he‘s not a swordfighter. He uses his keyblade like it’s a frisbee. Because that’s what he’s used to! His neutral is behind his back on his shoulder, which is terrible for readiness, but okay for chucking the thing. It’s good it has a sort of… ripstik like… boomerang quality.

Axel’s fighting style is completely made up, like most of the self-taught wielders’. His strengths lie in some of the benefits of standard offensive style (one-handed), and some of the same coverage stuff as Ven, having a cocked wrist most of the time so no one can sneak up around him without risking getting whacked very quickly, and having an interesting range due to the pointy end being basically on a spinny swivel wherever his hand moves. He’s not going to be good at close-range and he knows it — his attacks are mostly distance. And the guy has ZERO defense, combined with zero coverage when idle, so it’s for the better.

Distance-wise, though, he rocks. Treating the blade like it’s a flaming throwing weapon means his idle is actually great for sudden flick-tossing and attention-guiding for sneakier attacks, and his stance itself (…nonexistent) serves a different purpose: bait. Basically a big "come hit me". Fun, when you have a lot of fire magic and two friends who are beasts and love to take advantage of a distracted enemy — distance on the blade, proximity on the burning.

A perfect counter to Axel would be someone pinging around very close <—> very far and circling him incessantly. Like, data Xion could wreck him, as he has to wait for the boomerang to come back -- he no longer has two spinny wheels. Also someone with water magic.

SO! In conclusion! Having a teacher who teaches you correct sword usage rather than instinct may detract from overspecific styles that benefit you most but leave weak spots, but your muscles and your oversights will thank you. Everyone is glad we have the power of the Mouse and anime on our side.

Keep in mind again that I have done cursory research, and have had minimal actual sword instruction, I am not an expert and this is all for fun anyways :]

#I ran out of images which is homophobic #KH #ask #mojimallow #THANKS MOJI #If you’re wondering what the counter would be to Terra and Aqua; in terms of counters there are no counters #not style-wise anyways. That’s why they’re standard.#Terra can’t react very fast and Aqua needs more mp but that’s individual #and we are mostly talking BASE COMBAT here #of course lingering will can use keyblade transformations and there’s magic strategies — but that would make this post… much longer #brrrrrrr #kh analysis #kh meta #thanks to the handful of other people who asked me to expand on the same thing <3<3<3 #REALLY wanted to include one of Invi blocking — just go watch invi and aced fight for two standard offense #it Shows off their strengths and weaknesses #… no living adults do the two handed grip. Watch Sora and Xion’s data battle for an approximation I guess??#you. Hey you. Look in the notes rn #metazone

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izusun · 3 years

Note

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.

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bakubub · 3 years

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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violet-knox · 3 years

Note

1 I would love to request a story for you if it´s still fine to do it, my request is a smut story with a quiet virgin female reader who is popular with opposite gender mostly because of her attractive physical appareance and for that when she confess that she have a romantic interested in him. He thinks is a lie or a joke to hurt him somehow but when she insist that her feelings are honest and she is willing to do anything.

Beauty’s Curse

Pairing: Young!Snape x Half-Veela!Reader

Summary: As Valentine’s day quickly approaches, you find yourself surrounded by more and more people asking to be yours, but you have your eye on someone else.

Warnings: (SPOILERS) Spiked drink, manipulation

Word Count: 6679

A/N: To be honest, I was a bit hesitant with this request because I knew it would be a rather big challenge. I didn’t want to write anything superficial or cliche, but I thought this would be a great opportunity to break the stereotype of “that pretty mean girl” and show that no one should be judged on their looks, even those who are considered attractive.

I took inspiration from a situation I found myself in more or less recently, so please do read the warnings before reading this even though they are crossed out unless you really don’t want spoilers.

Nearly six years had passed and the comments from your peers had never once eased. Valentine’s day had become your least favourite holiday from the never-ending line of people asking you to be their Valentine, each year worse than the last as your popularity increased. You knew it wasn’t their fault, not entirely. You were half Veela after all, something you never dare tell a soul. Rumours went around in your fourth year when you hit puberty, an invisible glow seeming to surround you as you walked down the hall, heads turning as they ogled you in amazement. ‘It was a gift’ your mother would always tell you, but you could never see it that way, especially after you’d agreed to go out with that boy a few years above you last year, finding out his charm only extended so far until his true colours showed. Since then, you’d done everything you could to contain your influence over those who yearned for you, knowing you’d never know true love if the man you ended up with only did so from his inability to resist you.

You wanted to know what love really felt like, real love not the admiration the Slytherin boys chatting you up now were showing. It irked you how they’d suddenly surrounded you like this, three of them, all taller than you, all of whom were doing their best to impress you. One spoke of his father’s status at the Ministry of Magic, offering to take you anywhere you liked on Valentine’s day. Another tried to persuade you with the offer of visiting his mother’s shop in Westminster; the most luxurious dress shop in all of London he claimed, anything you wanted his mother could have you fitted for. The last boy had the nerve to try and hand over a necklace with the most amount of diamonds you’d ever seen, saying he’d offer you anything you liked if you agreed to be his Valentine. You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, the necklace barely managing to snap your attention back to them as your eyes instead wandered to the end of the hall where you saw another Slytherin sitting on the ledge of a window with his nose in a book.

You could still remember back when that was you sitting alone somewhere in the castle in your first year, everyone passing you by like you didn’t exist, your own nose shoved in the tenth book you’d been reading that week. Of course, that part never changed, you were a proud bookworm, one who’d much rather spend the evening diving into the pages of a good book than surrounded by people gawking at you. The only difference now was it was much harder to find a place where you’d be uninterrupted, but you always found a way, a small corner in this giant castle to call your own and escape the real world if not for a short moment.

“Sorry, but I can’t be any of your Valentines.” You spewed a quick apology to the Slytherin’s and pushed passed them, only to watch the boy you’d been intrigued by slam his book shut and dramatically swift away down the stairs.

He’d seen enough, the necklace turning his stomach into knots as he thought about the stupid bet they made before walking over to you, how they each thought they could buy you over with some luxury he could never afford to have. They didn’t even acknowledge his presence as they spoke, didn’t even bother to notice he’d hung back, that he stood by to watch them get rejected by the person who’d been known to reject everyone since first year. You seemed so kind and of course, it probably helped that you were a Hufflepuff, helped your ruse of being everyone’s friend, but he saw through you. He was the only one that did just as he was the only one to see through Potter. Everyone who was popular with the entire school had a dark side, he knew it, even if he hadn’t seen yours.

“Severus!” He turned around in surprise as he heard his name called out, unable to recognize the voice. His expression immediately turned sour when he realized it was you who’d run after him, calling his name to get his attention. He turned around and began walking away, one hand holding his books tightly as the other formed a tight fist. “Severus, wait!”

You were almost surprised to see someone so bluntly ignore you, shun you like you were nothing and you knew it was an act of dislike towards you, the way he looked at you making it very clear he did not want to speak with you. Yet you couldn’t help but yearn over him all the more. The only person in the entire school that seemed to see you as just another student, the only person who didn’t look at you like you’d blessed the very ground you walked on and he wouldn’t even give you a moment to speak.

“Severus,” you tried again, finally catching up to him as you placed your hand over his shoulder, Severus nearly twisting your wrist as he spun around, acting like your hand had burned the spot where you’d touched him. “I was just wondering, if you’d perhaps like to go out sometime?”

“What?” Severus rose his brow, wondering if he’d heard you correctly. It almost sounded as if you were asking him out, you, the person everyone in his life compared to perfection, the beauty of an angel, kindness comparable to no one else’s. You who’d chatted with the entire school, made friends with everyone, enemies with no one, would choose him?

“It-it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I just thought, well I thought it would be nice to have a chat with you some time,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your face as you tried to ease the tension. Severus' expression only darkened with annoyance as his suspicion of you grew.

“Did Avery put you up to this? Nott? Or Potter?” he blurted out. He couldn’t believe you thought he’d fall for such an obvious ruse. That he’d be desperate enough to accept your deceptive invitation, and when he found out who it was that plotted this interaction, he was going to make sure they never tried something like this again.

“N-no! Why would you say that?” You looked at him with shock, your heart sinking as you felt yourself nearly knock yourself over as you hit that defensive wall he had built around himself. You knew he wasn’t exactly liked by the other students, that he had a much tougher time than he deserved, but you’d never imagined him reacting like this when you finally built up the courage to ask him out.

“I’m not falling for this,” Severus shook his head as he dismissed your advancements. He turned around and resumed walking down the stairs, leaving you to your own failure though he wasn’t surprised to see you running after him.

“Severus wait!”

“Tell whoever sent you to piss off!” He brushed you off without stopping. Reaching the ground floor, he continued to walk towards the Entrance Hall without so much as glancing your way.

“Severus no one sent me, I swear,” you tried to make him see reason, to show him you were being genuine, but as he spun back around, his hair turning dramatically with him as his strands quickly settled back into place, framing the annoyed look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t willing to let his guard down for even a moment and consider your intentions to be pure.

“Really? Then why?” His words came out more as demands rather than a question, but you wouldn’t let it scare you away. You didn’t want to give up the one chance you had at a genuine relationship with someone who saw you as more than just a pretty face.

“Why what?”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you ask me out when you already have the entire school ready to put their heads on the chopping block just for a moment with you?” His tone made you wonder if he was asking the question out of curiosity for your answer or if he’d already made up his mind, that no matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you anyways. You had half a mind to walk away, telling yourself you deserved better, but this was what you wanted wasn’t it? Not to be run after, try to be bought over in some way? You wanted someone to go out with you and love you for who you were, to resist the natural attraction of your Veela DNA.

“Because you’re brilliant and love to read. Because you aren’t like everyone else. Because you make me feel normal.” You poured your heart out to Severus only to have him scoff in your face, rolling his eyes, clearly finding your words less than truthful. You’d never admit it of course, but you did, in a way, lie. You’d admired him for so long now. All you saw was his good sides, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit such a thing. “Please, Severus, give me a chance.”

Severus stared at you a moment, surprising himself as he actually debated your plea. He wanted nothing more than to believe you, to believe someone would be interested in him in the way you claimed. But it was you. How could he believe the most wanted person in the entire school would choose the most hated? He wanted to get the truth out of you, to embarrass you when you admitted to your real intentions and perhaps that’s exactly what he should do. Perhaps he could get you to blurt out the name of the imbecile that would soon regret trying to mess with him like this.

“Fine. There’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. I suppose I can spare a few hours with you.” He agreed to your invitation as he made plans of his own, immediately setting off to the dungeons when you smiled and nodded. You looked almost relieved that he’d finally accepted, almost like you had some other agenda and of course, he’d find out one way or the other. He was tired of the harassment, the humiliation from everyone in this school, tainting it with their insolence and stupidity. This was his home, the one place in the entire world where he could belong, and he wouldn’t let anyone push him around any longer.

This was the last straw. He was going to make an example out of you and whoever it was pulling your strings. He’d make the entire school regret making him out as a punishing bag, a joke for everyone to laugh at. What more could he lose? His best friend had already abandoned him, his Slytherin peers eager to do the same, only ever defending him out of obligation for their own house. He had no one, nothing to care for except his own reputation. He’d come to Hogwarts wanting to make something of himself, to build himself a future better suited for a Prince than a Snape and that’s what he was going to do one way or the other.

He made his way to his dorm first, retrieving the stash of potion ingredients he hid under his bed and cross referenced what he needed from the notes he’d taken in the back of his Advanced Potion Making textbook. He had nearly everything he needed, but he knew he could get the rest from the potion’s cupboard before Potion’s class today. It would take some time to brew and he’d probably have to stay up tonight, but he knew he could finish it just in time for his ‘date’ with you.

You’d spent all week excited for the weekend. Every day you woke up with a smile until finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip arrived. You were the first to wake, preparing for the day as your nerves grew, your friends questioning why you seemed so happy all of a sudden, but you brushed them all off. You didn’t want anything to ruin this day, knowing they’d laugh if you told them you were going out with Severus. You just wanted to enjoy your date, to be left alone and show Severus there was someone in this school who would love nothing more than to spend every second of the day with him.

Naturally you’d show up early and of course you were prepared. You sat at a nearby bench with your nose in a book as you usually were when you were alone and despite the crowd that grew with every second that past, Severus had no trouble finding you, rather surprised you weren’t surrounded by people all laughing, waiting to see what would come of your plan to humiliate him today. You were reading Magical Theory, one of the most boring books he’d found in all of Hogwarts’ library, yet there you were, enticed by every word, flipping the pages like you couldn’t go another second without reading.

“H-hello,” he said, startling you as you shot your attention up from your book to him. He felt his heart racing, his nerves escalating like this was a real date. But it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. He was here for one reason and one reason only; the truth. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty for something he had yet to do, but he did. A sliver of him didn’t want to hurt you, instead hoping that this was real, that you were here because you were genuinely interested in him, but he knew better. How could someone as popular, as liked and as beautiful as you be interested in him?

“Severus, I’m glad you showed.” You gave him the widest smile he’d ever seen anyone give him as you closed your book and stood up.

“I said I would didn’t I?” Severus rose a brow at you, taken back by the enthusiasm in your tone.

“Yes, but you seemed reluctant the other day.” Truth be told, you half expected to spend the day alone in absolute despair trying to distract yourself in that book as you pretended like you weren’t hurt from being stood up. But he came and he seemed much less defensive than before.

“Shall we?” He gestured to the group of students making their way down to Hogsmeade. You nodded your head and happily joined him as you walked side by side amongst the crowd. Severus was already suspicious of you and your intentions knowing if he was alone, he would have been called ‘Snivellus’ at least once by now. He felt shielded around you, like no one could touch him and for a moment, he was relieved to feel normal for once.

“I loved your presentation in Defense last week,” you commented, hoping some light conversation would help ease the mood before you found a place to settle for the day. Severus glared at you in surprise, wondering if you were trying to butter him up or if you had actually paid attention during class unlike the rest of his useless classmates.

“Really? What did you like about it?” Severus questioned your honesty, wondering if he could catch you in a lie before your ‘date’ even started.

“I love how in-depth your research was on cursed objects and your theory of their origin was intriguing,” you said with a smile, holding back your enthusiasm in fear of scaring him away. But you couldn’t help it, you admired Severus and how brilliant he was. You felt the heat rise to your face as you thought about the first time you saw him with his nose in a book, the first time you’d ever found yourself pulled away from your own book. “I noticed you like to hang around the Defense section of the library, is it your favourite subject?”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Your question had the opposite effect that you wanted as you saw his wall rebuild itself around him thicker than before. But you’d never give up knocking and asking him to let you in, to give you a chance and show him he could trust you.

“N-no, I like to hide in the library at times and I just noticed you were a regular as well,” you said, but you could tell Severus wasn’t convinced. He could almost see the crack in your claims, trying to cover them with some made up weak lie.

“Why have I never seen you in the library?” The interrogation continued, Severus seeing his victory in his line of sight. He had you cornered and was ready to end the day now when you admitted your true intentions. A smirk began to grow on his face as he thought of the victory at the end of his fingertips. He could almost see the horrific look on the face of whoever is to blame for this day.

“Pince lets me sit on the second floor overlooking the library, it’s only meant for staff, but she noticed my inability to have a moment to myself and rescued me one day from another mob of people looking to make conversation with me.”

“That’s kind of her,” he said, gritting his teeth as you slipped away from him, freeing yourself from his near grasp. His lips stretched into a frown as his revenge faded away. The longer he spoke with you the more his hope that this was real grew. You surprised him with your lack of self-absorbent qualities and your interest in what the Hogwarts library had to offer. He never imagined having so much in common with someone with your popularity, always assuming you’d be a lot more like Potter than himself.

He looked over at you as you nodded, your smile enriching the twinkle in your eye as you gleamed at him with joy. You were so happy to speak with him, to have a casual and light conversation, to share things with him you’d never shared with anyone before. It felt good to open up a bit, to show that other side of you that stayed hidden away when you spoke to your friends or classmates. It was almost freeing, and you only hoped with time, Severus could feel the same with you.

“So, where should we go?” You asked, unsure of what his favourite places at Hogsmeade was. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a trip to Honeydukes and you knew he didn’t have enough money for the bookstore.

“We could grab a table at The Three Broomsticks?” Severus suggested as he gestured towards the pub. You nodded your head and made your way over, opening the door and began to make your way to the first empty table you saw. You smiled when Severus pulled on your arm and pointed to the booth in the back instead. He was always such a loner, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he preferred the seclusion now because he didn’t want to be seen with you. You wouldn’t blame him for being skeptical and you were thankful he was giving you a chance, but trust was so important in a relationship and you didn’t want to start it off with an inability to trust one another.

“Go ahead, I’ll grab us some drinks.” You nodded and made your way to the booth, making yourself comfortable as Severus walked over to the bar. As you slide to the middle of the booth, you began to appreciate Severus' choice in seating, realizing how well hidden you were from everyone, not wanting your day interrupted by someone who thought Severus had kidnapped you and forced you into a date because they thought someone like you shouldn’t be out with someone like him.

Severus didn’t take long to bring you your drinks, setting them down before shuffling into the booth beside you, grabbing his drink and taking a few gulps. His nerves had finally settled in and he almost wished he’d ordered something stronger for himself. The moment of truth had nearly come and at any moment now he’d get what he came here for, but he was afraid. He feared what the truth may bring him, that if by some small chance you were being honest before, he was about to ruin a love that could have been.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached for your own drink and took a sip. “Not just for the drink, but for giving me a chance as well.”

Severus gulped down the guilt that grew in his chest. There was no going back now. He had to find out the truth, even if you seemed genuine with your feelings towards him. “I was curious to know why you’d want to go out with me.”

He dipped his toes in the water as you both continued to enjoy your drinks and as he hoped, you began to open up to him, though perhaps not in the way he would have thought. “I’ve admired you for quite some time and have been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for a while.”

You put your drink down in shock by your sudden outburst of words. You hadn’t meant to say all that, even if it was on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brows, you pressed your lips together, unsure of how you’d lost control so suddenly. You felt like someone was pulling your strings, like they had slapped you on the back so hard, the words just flew out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, doubting his own abilities and wondered how this could possibly be. He was so sure this was a trick, that you were being deceitful, put up by someone else to embarrass him, but your truth was far from what he was expecting. You were real, you were interested in him, and he’d made a terrible mistake. “S-so no one put you up to asking me out?”

“No of course not. You’re the only person I’ve ever met I felt like I could truly fall in lo-” You clapped your hands over your mouth before you could say anymore. Your eyes widened as you bit down on your tongue, muffling the words you could not believe were about to be heard by him. You looked at him in fear, feeling completely helpless. Your freewill had been stripped away from you and you found yourself unable to control what came out of your mouth. “W-what’s going on?!”

“I-I’m so sorry (Y/N). This was not how I imagined things would go,” he said, his sympathetic tone making it harder for you to stay calm as your heart pounded angrily against your chest. Every fiber in your body told you something was wrong, that you should run, but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to. You’d waited so long to be here, to be in this moment alone with Severus, you didn’t want it ruined.

“What are you talking about?” You let yourself speak just enough to ask for clarification, to give Severus the chance to explain himself, to give you the explanation you needed to stay here with him.

“I-I slipped Veritaserum into your drink. I thought I could get you to admit this was a trick. I didn’t expect this. I’m so sorry.” You looked at him with absolute horror, your heart breaking into a million pieces as his betrayal sunk in. He’d manipulated you, used you like a puppet when you’d done nothing but open yourself up to him. You’d trusted him like you’d done with no one before, and he tossed that away like it meant nothing. Your eyes swelled with tears, unable to look at him any longer. Your legs immediately swept you from your seat as you glued your mouth shut, trying to escape the prison Severus had trapped you in

“(Y/N) wait!” Severus cried after you in desperation, unable to believe how he’d messed up something he could only dream of having. You were an angel that anyone would have felt lucky to be with and he was the demon you’d chose instead. The demon who’d scared you away from love, from happiness, from a good and honest relationship. He tried to grab your wrist, but his hand failed to hold onto you as your skin, your oh so perfect skin grazed his fingertips. You ran out the door with tears dripping down your face and a hand over your mouth, leaving him deserted. His eyes followed you until you were no longer within his line of sight, running to get as far away from the monster who’d broken your trust, your faith in him.

Slumping back in his seat, he stared blankly at his hands, the hands that had spent all week brewing a potion that was meant to bring him peace, a sense of power and control over his own life, yet it brought him nothing but an empty heart and crushed aspirations. Your words rang in his ears, the kind tone you took with him, the loving look you gave him all sinking in much differently now that he knew for certain they were real. He looked up at the drink that had ruined his second chance, the chance at a happy life, a life where he no longer had to be alone and swung his arm at it in anger.

The pub fell silent as glass shattered, the drink spilling all over the floor as Severus pushed himself up and began storming out the door, ignoring the calls of the angry bartender who stood over the mess he’d made. Severus ran in the same direction he’d seen you head, but found no sight of you. He had no idea what he’d say or why he so suddenly ran after you without thinking. He just knew he had to find you. He couldn’t give up on the miracle he’d been asking for all his life, someone who truly cared for him, who liked him for who he was and could look past his flaws.

He looked around and found himself in a lost haze, unsure of what to do next. You were gone, vanished like a figment of his imagination and he was left here to wonder how he’d managed to get so lucky to have the one person the entire school was after fall for him. He looked back at the road back to Hogwarts before he found his legs suddenly jolting him forward as if his body knew exactly where to go. He couldn’t understand what was happening, how he felt like he had no control over himself. His mind was cycling as it tried to comprehend what was happening, how he could be driven on nothing but emotions, his feelings for you pushing him to run as fast as he could back to the castle and up those flights of stairs.

By the time he got to his destination, his hair was sticking to the sides of his face, his lungs gasping for air as he felt his entire body heat up. His heart pounded angrily against his chest, shouting at him to keep going, that he wasn’t done until he’d found you, but he’d never run so much in his life, never felt so unable to breath, even after the massive panic attrack he had the night after the Whomping Willow incident.

Looking around the library, he found his way to the door he knew only staff were allowed to open. His hand bolted for the doorknob, tugging on it to find it locked. Pulling out his wand, he tried to unlock it with no luck. His fists pounded on the door in frustration, he needed to get in there, he knew you were in there, he could feel it. You’d trusted him enough to tell him about this place and as much as he was aware you didn’t want to see him, he needed to see you. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Please open the door! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think- I didn’t know!”

Severus hung his head low as he pressed himself to the door. This was as close to you as he knew he’d ever get again. He’d ruined any chance of a relationship with you and you were right to hide away from him. He was destructive, ruining anything he touched, anyone who spoke with him or dare come near him and perhaps that was why Potter felt the need to hex and curse him every time they saw one another. He couldn’t let it go on, he had to try and mend things, if not to at least make up for what he’d done.

“Please, at least let me undo what I’ve done. I can cure you and if you don’t want to hear what I have to say then I’ll leave. But please let me fix this.” Severus shut his eyes, tears threatening to fall as his forehead met the door. He stood there in silence, wondering if he’d hurt you so bad you’d abandoned the one place you felt safe in this school, if he’d done to you what Potter had to him. He’d become what he hated and was about ready to retreat to his dorm when he heard the doorknob turning, the door slowly opening as he took a step back, his eyes wide as he wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Your eyes met his and you felt your disappointment melt into anger. Your jaw hardened as you locked your teeth together, doing everything you could to keep from speaking another word to Severus. You watched him snap out of your gaze and begin to fumble with his robes, pulling out a small stone and presenting it to you. You stared down at it confused, wondering what kind of apology this was meant to be.

“It’s a bezoar. I know it’s not the most comfortable solution, but it’s all I have,” Severus offered it to you, hoping you’d take it, that he could try and regain your trust once again. He held out hope as he watched your posture relax the slightest bit, your hand hesitantly reaching for the stone. He wouldn’t dare speak a word or move a muscle until you indicated what it was you wished of him next. From this moment forward, he would do nothing you didn’t ask for, say nothing you didn’t demand.

Tossing the stone into your mouth, you swallowed hard and groaned at the feeling of its rough texture travelling down your throat. You heaved for air, but for the first time since you ran out of The Three Broomsticks, you found yourself able to relax your jaw, your fear of spilling your guts disappearing. Straightening your back, you looked at Severus who seemed unable to move or breath, waiting for your command to do so as his wide eyes stared desperately into yours. You’d never felt so conflicted, your feelings for him clouding your instinct to slap him for what he’d done to you. You never felt so humiliated, so used in your life. Severus had gone from the person who’d treated you like a normal human being to the one person in your life who’d hurt you worse than you ever thought you could be hurt. But you still couldn’t find it in you to shove him away and lock him out of your life. So instead, you closed the door behind you and stood your ground with your arms crossed, waiting for Severus to explain himself.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He nearly choked on his words as they came out when he saw the look on your face, the frown you wore. No word would ever be large enough to truly depict how he felt right now and as much as he wanted to say more, all he could do was apologize.

“You already said that,” you mumbled in a whisper, speaking against your own trauma from the truth serum that Severus had given you. He looked so sincere, so desperate for your forgiveness. You’d never seen him like this before, clawing at someone else for something only they could give. He’d always been such a strong person even if others would disagree. He wasn’t presumptuous as he was proud of himself and his achievements, but the person who stood before you now had no pride left to show. He had nothing but regret and torment in his eyes.

“And I can never say it enough. I should never have put that potion in your drink and I wish I could take it back. I didn’t think you were being genuine. I was so sure you were lying to me.” He spoke honestly, hoping you’d have faith he was being truthful with every word he spoke, that you could at least put the trust in him he failed to put in you.

“Why?” You couldn’t let go of the sheer stupidity of what he’d done. His reasoning didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to you, and if you could understand why he did it, maybe you could begin to forgive him.

“Why? Because you’re you and I’m me and why would I ever believe you of all people would be interested in me?” Severus went on as if the question was an absurd one to ask, the answer so obvious, even a house elf could see it. He wondered how you couldn’t see his hesitation, why you’d ever think he’d simply accept the fact you were interested in him.

“Because I said that I did!” you said bluntly, rather offended he questioned your intentions at all. Never had anyone second guessed you to this extreme before and you didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“I know, I just-”

“Didn’t trust my word?” You looked completely heart broken, more so then when you realized he’d slipped truth serum into your drink. He could see trust was something you cherished between those you let close to you and he’d completely ruined his chance at gaining it from you.

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after the way the school decided to brand me all those years ago.” Severus had no hope of convincing you what he did was justifiable because even he knew it wasn’t. All he could hope for was for you to understand his hesitation, to understand why he had to do something when you approached him to see if you were genuine in your intentions.

“I’ve never treated you that way,” you retorted.

“I know. I’m sorry and I’ll understand if you’ll never want to speak with me again.” He put the ball in your court, completely at your mercy. Whatever it was you decided to do, he would respect it, but every inch of him begged you to give him another chance, to let him have a proper opportunity to have someone in his life that would care for him, to have a happy ending. But as Severus stared into your blank eyes, he could tell he hadn’t swayed you in any way. It was his fault and as he had nothing more to say, all he could do was turn around to walk away from everything that could have been.

“That’s it?” Severus stopped as you called after him, turning around in surprise as he stared at you blankly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re just going to walk away? You’re not going to try and fight? For-for this?” You gestured between yourselves with a sliver of hope in your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have expected much from him, but a part of you hoped he’d be a little more resilient to giving up on you, especially after all that time you’d spent admiring him from afar.

“I-I didn’t think there was anything to fight for,” he said truthfully, looking at you with wide eyes as he walked back to you. He stared at you intently, trying to read you, to figure you out with all these mysteries surrounding you. How could someone so beautiful fall for him, want to be with him enough you’d be willing to give him a chance at redemption when his own best friend wouldn’t give him such a thing?

You took a step forward, wanting so badly to have all those talks with him you’d dreamed of having, to enjoy spending time with him if not to simply read together and find comfort in each other's company. You wanted to go back and give him a chance to redo the evening, to have it end much differently than yours and if it were anyone else, you would never have given him the chance to explain himself. But it wasn’t someone else, it was him. It was the one person in this whole world who you thought could break your curse, who seemed immune to it.

“Severus, why don’t you treat me like everyone else in this school?”

Severus stood in silence a moment as he thought back to how easily everyone worshipped the ground you walked on, how you always seemed to have a trail of people behind you, admiring you for no reason other than your looks. His thoughts wandered to Lily and how Potter seemed just as enchanted with her as the rest of the school did to you, how he’d only become intrigued with Lily after finding out she was a kind witch who lived in Cokeworth.

“I just-I suppose I just never thought of you in that way because I didn’t know you, and I never thought you’d be interested in knowing me.” Severus tried to be as honest as he could, watching you with hope. He held onto the fact you hadn’t run away, that you’d given him the chance to speak, to hear him and understand him. You were so kind, nothing like he would have ever imagined and he knew if he was ever so lucky as to get a second chance with you, he would never take it for granted again.

“Well, I am,” you said with a smile. You’d always been rather talented at reading people after the absurdity you’d seen from others, and Severus had truly wanted to make amends. You prayed your faith in him wasn’t misplaced, that he meant every word he said and that he saw what you saw. “If you are.”

“I am.” The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could process. He jumped at the chance you offered, beyond excited for the happy life he saw ahead of him. “Would you perhaps like to try again?”

You nodded your head eagerly, excited for your do-over date. You almost wanted to forget what had happened today, to approach things with him from a fresh perspective. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Would you care to share a cup of tea with me at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?”

“Really?” Severus couldn’t believe how kind hearted you were, how willing you were to see the good in others and how tremendously lucky he was to have found you, or more accurately, have you find him.

“So long as I’m buying this time,” you nodded with a laugh, eliciting a smile from Severus as you began making your way out of the library. You smiled as you finally got to see the real him, the person you grew infatuated with, the boy who you saw hope for love with. For the first time in your life, you felt content, excited for the spark you felt growing inside your heart. You could experience love for the first time in your life, real, pure love and you couldn’t wait to see what more it had in store for you.

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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He Calls Me Honey Tits

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Here’s the third and last part of you and Arthur being lovers during his time in the whorehouse! In which this cheeky bastard slathers honey on your tits and teases you and pleases you until you’ve never been so damn aroused 🙃🍯💦

Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Brothel Boy Arthur being a cheeky little shit (licking honey off your tits, eating you out and denying you his dick until you beg for it)

Word Count: ~2.2k

… Continued from Part 2 [Read Here]

“How may I be of service, honeybee?”

The beaming blue-eyed bastard leads you to his bedchamber and softly shuts the door. Though he’s the brothel boy it feels like you’re the whore. You’re far more smitten in his presence than you want to be.

Sensing the indignation fuming off your body, Arthur smirks as if it’s funny. “Anybody ever told you that you’re lovely when you’re huffy?”

Suddenly, your cunt lips feel swollen and puffy. Slick as if this cheeky thief had dipped his finger in your honey. Try to stay composed and classy. “You can’t work your charms to get your petty crime past me. This is about the money.”

“But of course it is. Just business.” Arthur winks and it’s without a doubt the wickedest shit you have ever witnessed.

Keep your wits before he sucks you deeper into this—whatever this shit is. “You said that we could meet at your place to sort out the fucking payment. Here I am to fucking claim it.”

“Ohh, she bites,” he taunts like he has any right. “Such nasty language from a mouth so nice. Love, what’s your price? Just name it.”

“I am not your love!” you furiously huff.

“Not yet. But I’d bet just the thought has got your honeypot all wet.”

Did he just—he just—sweet mother of Jesus—

“Mmm, I’d love a taste,” he teases. Sea-blue gaze mirrors the lust that’s written all across your face. “Can’t let such honey go to waste.”

“You’ve stolen quite enough already, I daresay.”

His voice is steady, yet his cock is raging madly as he steps so close that you can almost feel it. “Didn’t steal it. You just let it slip away.”

All your dignity and self-restraint, that is. Such is the picture that his passionate words paint; he’s driving you to fucking madness. Sheer destruction through seduction is this little bastard’s favorite game to play. And he won’t stop until he’s buried in your honeypot today.

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

Just how this sweet sticky mess ended up spread all across your tits, you can’t quite say.

Fuck it. You’re naked on the boy-whore’s bed with honey slathered on your bare breasts and your cunt is dripping buckets. Blue eyes own you where you lay. Somehow the bastard has convinced you that for what he stole from you today at market, shameless pleasure is the best way to repay.

The session started with a fight over the jar that he had thieved. He taunted you until he wanted you more than he could believe. More than his station in this house even allows. Voices raised, daggers from your gaze. Aroused. Amazed.

Saw how his thirst aligned with yours, as shouts and hisses flung between you turned to roars, and pinned you down onto the bed with feral force. Paused to make certain you were both on the same page. A man of care and caution though the beast in him may rage.

And here and now with words unspoken that blue gaze of his explores. Impales you to the core, seeks out your secret inner whore. All set to free her from your inhibitions’ cage. The truth of you that any other man including your own lawfully wedded pig always ignores.

Do you want to fucking engage?

Of fucking course.

And so you do. Fire and water all at once, this man’s effect upon your cunt, flaming and fluid. This is what true pleasure is, you think as he attacks heavy and hot. Slut for the once and future king of fucking Camelot. Already his, as he claims your lips in a cataclysmic kiss, crashing together in a spell of breathless bliss.

He tastes of courage. Hunger, unfed all the stronger. Poor boy forced to live on stolen scraps and half-full bowls of porridge. Forced to fight and fuck and forage. Forge his way through filth without the faintest clue his royal blood doesn’t belong here. Here with you he’s poor no longer.

First few minutes of your time spent in his bed the boy-whore shatters you to bits.

And now you’re here with stolen honey smeared across your naked tits.

You gasp a giddy laugh at how ridiculous this funny business is. “You cheeky little shit!”

He smirks and lets the now half-empty jar of honey clatter to the floor. Hovering over you all set to make damn sure... that you will always and forever be his filthy little whore. “You know you fucking love it, honey tits.”

No fucking use denying it.

Arthur as well had stripped his shirt off earlier, in those first few seconds of this passionate blur, so you can see and feel the sculpted muscles of his abdomen and chest. He is a god and nothing less. Those chiseled ridges rub against your honey-covered skin and make a fucking mess. His mouth descends deliciously on yours again as skillful hands knead at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Sweet little goddess,” he breathes out amidst the kisses and it’s too much to be honest. King among men making you feel like his queen. “Swear you’re the loveliest damn thing I’ve ever seen. The loveliest.”

The purity—he’s doing you so dirty, loving you so clean. Feel you belong here with him surely, more than anywhere on earth you’ve ever been.

Your fingers fist twined in his glorious gold locks. Hips bucking frantic to seek friction up against the fucking hard bulge of his cock. Still sheathed in cloth as he’s not yet disrobed his lower half, to free his raging shaft—likely to burst right through the fabric since he’s so massive and solid as a rock.

With every second that huge cock of his grows harder, taking your desire farther. Inner slut escapes the cage that he’s unlocked.

“Ughh—fuck me, Arthur...” you cry out, needy and loud, all honey-smothered, hot and bothered. “Fuck...”

His focus shifts off of your lips down to your neck and then your chest and suddenly he starts to suck.

Your mouth gapes wide to make a sound but has no luck.

Choking on air as you surrender to his touch. He’s just too much. Soft lips squeeze tight around your nipple, slurping honey as it dribbles. Grinds the stiffness of his meat against the wet heat of your crotch. Glittering blue eyes glance at you beneath the gold fringe of his lashes, as your body throbs and thrashes. Getting off on the effect he has because he loves to watch.

You moan and whimper, one breast lavished in attention from his slick tongue while he works the other with his skillful fingers. Swipes his thumb across your stiff peak as he teases at the other with the pearl ridge of his teeth until your senses fall apart. “Please, Art...”

The bastard chuckles in a breathy little huff. “Don’t worry, love. Promise I’ll fuck you good and hard,” he reassures you meaning it with all his heart. “Just thought I’d better whet my appetite to start.”

Of course he’d crack a stupid fucking pun, while you’re coming undone. Scrapes his enormous bulge against your aching cunt, with a deep grunt, reminding you what you both want. How hard he’s gotten and how wet you are. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Flattens his tongue against the valley of your cleavage now to slobber up the sugary gold mess that’s gathered there. Licks slowly upward as he owns you with the bright blue of his stare. Honey spreads all across his trimmed blonde beard and sweetens every hair.

Of all the men upon this earth no one has ever been so fair.

Dips in the hollow of your throat, and you damn well nearly explode.

And then those luscious lips are back on yours again. Lose track of where your breathing ends and his begins.

The taste of honey should be overwhelming sweet, but something sweeter yet sparks into being where your soul and his so intimately meet. The hunger only this can feed. Each on the road to being everything the other ever needs. Perhaps not so just yet, but in the moment you first met, he’d planted that passionate seed.

Already want him now to plant another seed deep in your hole. Already know that someday he will fill that role.

But not today—today is all about pure pleasure and the game he came to play.

To claim you as his whore in every goddamned way.

Between kisses you plead with him although it’s such a struggle now to talk. “Please, Arthur—fuck...”

He snickers. That majestic bulge of his harder, and bigger. “Mmm, so pretty when you’re begging for my cock.”

Those words—the sheer filth has you so aroused it hurts—you shut your eyes for fear they’ll pop out of your sockets.

He reminds you now of how you had denied him when he’d asked you for a sample of your product. Shut that door and tried to lock it. On his own terms he had gotten his hands on it, taking what he wanted. Dirty and dishonest. “Wouldn’t let me taste your sweet honey at market. Seems I’ll have to steal that pleasure from your honeypot myself before I fuck it.”

Oh, that’s obscene—wait, does he mean—what—shit...

Upon the bed he shifts, sudden and swift, a blaze of sex, until his lust-crazed gaze is level with the slick between your legs. And that’s when the truth of it hits.

Young Arthur’s hunger for your cunt is even stronger than his hunger for your tits.

The two of you have kissed and licked most of the honey from each other’s mouths by now so that his tongue is mostly clean. And that’s exactly as he wants it so that he can taste the flavor of his lovely future queen.

He’s a complete whore for your flavor. Buries his beautiful face deep in your folds like every precious drop was made for him to savor. All at once delicate yet dominant, as he feasts on your cunt. Art makes an art of it, worshipping every part of it.

Your wetness glistens as it gushes out across his gorgeous features from the second he descends; and yet with him the peak of pleasure’s not the end. Rather the very fucking start of it.

You shout his name, loud without shame, your inner slut unleashed with only him to blame. Your body and soul absolutely his to claim. The stolen honey and the money were just all part of the game; he knows that this is why you came.

Needless to say you need his cock inside you now but he intends to make you beg. He could spend days continuing to feed facedown between your legs.

One of his hands has wandered down to his own crotch to give himself the stimulation he deserves, now as two fingers of his other hand are pumping in your hole, while he devours your cunt whole, lips latching tight around your tender bud of nerves.

Your thousandth wave of pleasure rolls. Scream for his cock until he’s finally stripped himself naked and mounts you with his rippled muscles pressed against your curves.

And now at last uses your body for the purpose it was put on earth to serve.

Your tight hot cunt is so completely fucking soaked, he nearly chokes and almost spills his load inside of you at his first fucking stroke.

Catches his breath and bites his tongue, knowing he can’t hold off for long. Till now he’s never known true home. The women of this brothel housed him and raised him since he was young, yet though he’s grateful for their love he never quite seemed to belong. With you he does as though he’s been here all along. Feels like the whole world is his kingdom. Kingdom finally fucking come.

You’re feeling everything the same. Someday his queen for now his filthy little slut. The flood. The flame. The fluid heat as you’re split open on this man’s majestic meat until you feel his power beating in your blood. The beast in each of you untamed. Such fucking force. His power is all fucking yours. Of fucking course.

Kisses you long and deep and hard, until the white hot bliss that’s burning through him shatters into shards.

Pulls out in time to take his meat in his own fist and spray his seed across your stomach and your chest. Painting you like a work of art. Pearly white gleams against the honey gold that still clings to the soft skin of your breasts. Just from the feel of being coated in his load your throbbing cunt pulses until it falls apart, convulses in a rush of pleasure rooted somewhere in your slutty little heart. You’ve never felt so fucking blessed. Of all the moments of your life to date this is without a doubt the fucking best.

Yet this is all just how it starts. Your days here in the boy-whore’s bed have just begun and you don’t doubt he’ll take you to new heights of ecstasy for all the fucking rest.

He’s feeling everything the same. Smiles and calls you by your name—honey tits.

Knows you fucking love it. Though at first you’d claimed the reason for this visit was just business... clearly that’s not what this is. Business has turned to pleasure just as you both wanted it.

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

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💗

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s1ater · 3 years

Text

old friends, part three. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which two old friends reunite but it doesn’t end how the reader had hoped.

warnings 🚫: swearing, small amount of violence, reader is real emotional/bipolar, and writing that might not make sense/in need of writing

slater’s note 🗯: hi! LAST PART, honestly thought it would go longer but i’m pretty sure this is it, if some of y’all want a fourth part, i’ll take it into consideration :) but thank you guys

part one, part two, part three, part four

“i fucking hate you.”

words he could barely process before you used all the force built up in your body to shove eli, not caring where he ended up and certainly not what he would do to you next.

and you grinned drunkly, watching him topple backwards into moon’s heated pool, a fulfilled smile already on your face before you could even process the grip he had ahold of on your arm.

you let out a shriek once feeling the tips of your sneakers dip out into the edge of the pool, water soon wrapping around you like a cool blanket.

it had felt like you were under there forever, the heated pool, not so heated, with bubbles flying out from underneath you, but you had resurrfaced just as fast as you went under, the boy who had pulled you in already above the green colored pool from the effect of the LEDS, the side of his face absolutely enraged.

eli turned to you quickly, grabbing onto forearm, practically dragging you out of the pool and you had just wished the water that was soaked in your clothes would have dragged you down lower, you wish the water would have prevented you from moving at all.

the crowd of teens previously surrounding you and tory’s drink off now faced you and hawk, it being completely silent to the point that you could hear the sway of pools water sloping back and forth against the pool tile walls so clearly that it hurt your ears.

you searched for miguel while being roughly pulled away from the scene and right as you did, his eyes finding yours, you were swallowed deeper into the crowd of teens and then into moon’s home before you were in the driveway where less and less people begun to appear.

you had stopped pulling once you had went out the front door, content with how he was about to beat the shit out of you for embarrassing him. for embarrassing hawk.

eli shoved you into the passenger side door of his car before getting into the drivers seat after rounding the front of his nice red car that made you wonder where he found the money to afford it.

“what the fuck is your problem?”

you flinched and maybe you shouldn’t have because his voice was rather unusually calm for someone who was soaking wet from being pushed into a pool.

he narrowed his brows at your strange reaction before flattening out into a blank expression once again, waiting for you to say something because now was your time.

“eli, i don’t-“

“shut up,” he said quickly, “you fucking humiliated me tonight for your own petty reasons, you’re giving me a reason as to why.”

an opportunity like this would never happen again, especially after tonight. and as much as you wanted to stay silent-

“speak faster.”

-he was practically breathing down your neck with how inpatient he was at that moment.

“i hate the person you’ve turned into,” you mumbled, forcing it out, avoiding his gaze that was so obviously set on you, consuming you, wanting you to look back at him.

just look.

“i hate the person you’ve turned into, and i hate the way you ignore me so easily, and i hate the way you don’t miss me, and i hate the way you act like you don’t give a fuck, i hate the way that you walk around and kiss other girls like ours meant nothing to you, like i meant nothing to you,” tears dipped out of your eyes, sending gel like orbs of clear liquid down your cheeks, your voice now raised.

“i hate you, i hate you so fucking much!”

eli slowly closed his eyes, as if it would help shield himself away from your yelling, your drunken curses and cries that so easily slipped out of your mouth and into his ears.

“you never cared about me, you never gave a fuck about me or demetri, and how could you? after all the fucking shit we’ve been through?”

he clenched his jaw, opening his eyes back up, meeting the glossy shells of yours, anger filling and pouring in and out of every feature glued onto your face.

you hated the way he stared at you, you hated the way he looked so blank, like he didn’t care, just like he never did. it hurt.

it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

and you wanted to make him hurt.

“fuck you!” you smacked his chest, causing him to flinch back against the car door, “fuck you! you don’t even care right now, do you? you never did.”

you smacked his chest again and again and again till he stopped flinching away, absorbing the blows against his chest.

you were drunk.

he had to repeat it in his head, you were drunk. you weren’t sensible, you weren’t able to piece it all together because you were drunk.

“you stupid fucking boy,” you spat, your hits becoming harder and harder as you let the anger seep deeper into your pores, “too fucking insecure about his past that he has to make sure everything of it is eliminated. fuck you, fuck you and your stupid back tattoo.”

eli quickly grabbed onto your wrists quickly, forcing them over your head, pressing them against the passenger seat window. cold glass lightly touching your wrists as he held them their, tightly.

he was leaned over you, resisting a glare about to take over his stare, trying to hold the pointed and serious look instead. he didn’t want you to see you had strucked a nerve, he just wanted you to calm down.

he was having a hard time himself staying in that aroma.

“you done?” he raised his eyebrows, watching the tears dry on your cheeks while you still had bubbles of water glazed over your eyes, trying your best to hold it all back.

“fuck you.”

“yes, fuck me,” he whispered, “get over it, y/n.”

he paused, analyzing the position you were in before continuing, “people change, for better or for worse, they change.. so just accept it... you changed too.”

you swallowed, the amount of confrontation he had in that moment was overwhelming to your slowly sobering self, but you still were largely intoxicated, making you glare.

“okay, hawk,” you hissed, pushing against the strong hold he had on your wrists, and for that moment, he pressed harder against the glass, “i’m not the one who had to entirely change their personality just so my sensi would like me.”

“and i’m not the one who had to turn to alcohol just to cope with the fact that i had no more friends,” he shot back, completely unbothered from your words, even though it should have stung.

and it did for a second before he had to remind himself, you didn’t mean it.

you were drunk. you were drunk. you were drunk. you were drunk.

“fuck you,” you repeated but this time it came out as a whine, you tried jerking forward but you made difference to his strong hold, “you’re the reason i even started drinking in the first place, eli, you ruined me!”

his glare softened at your words, causing him to let go and pull away slowly back into the drivers seat, sitting properly.

“it’s not because i didn’t have any friends, it was because of the one friend i didn’t have,” you rubbed your wrists, “fucking you and your stupid ass.”

“y/n, i-“ eli stopped mid phrase, his lips pressed into a thin line, trying to think of how he could phrase correctly with the weight suddenly pressed onto his chest, “i didn’t know.”

“why would you?” you whispered, hurt soaking your voice, “you never answered my calls, never showed up, never-“

“i shouldn’t have ignored you,” he cut you off quickly not wanting to be reminded of all he did, his voice was so silent that you almost didn’t hear it. “i shouldn’t have done any of that to you.”

licking the inside of your cheek, you glanced over to him, hoping he wasn’t looking at you, and he wasn’t, he looked ahead straight into the dark sky, staring at the stars through his front windshield.

the stars.

they flickered and shone brightly, lighting up the sky like a lamp in a dark room. you swore you could see them move, rotating around like one of those mobiles that hung above young children’s heads, coaxing them to sleep.

dancing stars.

you let a small smile of a strange satisfaction take over your drunken state at the sight of the glowing stars, the corners of your cheeks arising and your eyes crinkling in the corners.

calm.

“i’m so sorry...” were the last words that you allowed to reach your ears, making your cheeks go red and your body go slack in content, the rest history as the car started with a hum and ended with the sound of exhaust, the stars following you all the way to the end, following two old friends to the end.

taglist:

comment to be added for future works :)

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @kaitieskidmore1 @wiiildflowerrr @heartskippeddabeat

#better now #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

#the akatsuki #driving #vroom vroom #deidara #sasori #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan #kakuzu #kisame #hidan

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jikooksgirl19 · 3 years

Text

My Soulmates 1

Genre:Soulmate AU, fluff,angst, eventual smut

Pairing: Idol Jimin x Lawyer Reader x Idol Jungkook

Warnings: some swearing (Y/N has a trash mouth sometimes)

A/N: I’m so excited to bring you my story. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter.

Please read the teaser and prologue first if you haven’t already.

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

October 7, 2018 4:36pm

The boys had been practicing since 8am that morning with limited breaks, and were tired and hungry. They were all going to dinner and begin making their way to the elevator, laughing and joking with each other. Namjoon was deep in thought when the doors of the elevator opened and a woman came out barreling right into the midst of the group. Her head was down, and she seemed absorbed in something on the iPad she held in her hands when she must have realized what she had done. Namjoon heard her gasp and reach out towards Jimin and Jungkook and thought she might be trying to steady herself as they were reaching out to her as well. He couldn’t believe it when they all began collapsing on the floor, the other boys trying to catch them. He noticed that the three were still grasping onto each other, and a red ring began to encircle their ring fingers and travel up their arms. The other boys were staring at this as well and they looked at each other shaking their heads. All of them mumbled the same thing

...”Oh Shit!”

You felt warm and cocooned for some reason. It was so cozy and you didn’t want to wake up. Wait, when did I go home? Your thoughts were hazy and you were trying to figure out where you were. You tried to stretch and found yourself bumping into something hard. As you started groping around you realized that this was not your pillow at all but felt like a chest. A mans chest. You have never moved so fast as you just did sitting yourself up. “What the hell...!” You look and see you are on a bed with not one but two boys cuddled up around you. Fear immediately sets in as you look around the room and see sleeping figures on another bed and couch.

“What the fuck...!” You said out loud quickly slapping both your hand over your mouth so as not to awaken the men in the room. You are in bed with, and surrounded by BTS. They are the worlds most famous boy band. They are the Nations Treasures. THEY ARE YOUR CLIENTS!!! Your mind explodes right then and there. You think to yourself ’What Tumblr, A03, Wattpad fanfic did I just wake up in.’

‘OH MY GOD IM IN A COMA!!!! That has to be it. There cannot be any other explanation. I’m in a coma and I transported into some sucky ass wannabe Hallmark Movie’.

All you can think of is that you have some sort of brain tumor and have fallen into a life altering, dream fugue-like state and all your teenage and young adult fantasies are blending together therefore you have conjured up some poly bias delusional weirdness in yor muddled brain. This isn’t real...this isn’t real... this isn’t real....... You pinch yourself and...oh shit that hurt. You struggle to get off the bed which isn’t easy by any means when two pairs of arms AND legs keep trying to pull you back down. You debate screaming bloody murder when you hear someone speak.

“You’re awake”. You turned your head and saw someone sitting up rubbing his eyes looking at you. You recognized the leader of said boy band Namjoon from the many many posters around BigHit.

“I am” your voice sounding more calm than you felt. “Can you tell me where I am and why I’m here with all of you like some weird slumber party?” You we’re holding on the the last shreds of professionalism that you could before screaming to the high heavens.

“You don’t remember finding your soulmates” he asked?

“Excuse me, my what now?” You cocked your head like you didn’t hear him right. “What on earth are you going on about? Soulmate, I don’t have a soulmate.”

“Soulmates” he corrected. By now some of the other members were starting to wake up.

“I AM in a COMA”. You were starting to babble incoherently in a mix of Korean and English with some well placed Spanish swear words your mother used to use when you were little and she was mad. You we’re starting to panic and began trying to climb off the bed all the while the two boys on your bed were snoozing away like nothing was happening. You managed to fall off of the bed and skittered backwards like a crab til your back hit the wall. You slapped your cheeks willing yourself to wake up.

Namjoon looked next to him and asked “Jin can you call Yuna? I think she may be able to help out with...” he looked at you realizing he didn’t know your name. Jin got up and walked towards the window to call someone.

“Y/N. Sona Y/N.” I...I..I’m a temporary lawyer working at BigHit on some of your international contracts. I’d like to say nice to meet you but maybe when there’s a less murdery vibe and location.” You were quickly getting your bearings together and began to gather your composure. “Now can you please tell me why I’m here being cuddled to death by those thing one and thing two over there” you point towards the bed. Several giggles and laughs were heard at this. You on the other hand were not sure what was so funny.

A deep voice in the corner answered this time. “Well thing one and two as you called them, or as we like to call them Jimin and Jungkook are your soulmates “ he said matter-of-factly like it was everyday normal. “I’m Taehyung, you can call me Tae or Tae-Tae to piss them off if you want.” His big boxy grin made him look like a mischievous child You couldn’t help but give him a wary smile. Someone else, you think it was J-Hope came towards you and thrust forward a hand. You cautiously took it and he helped you up from the floor. You began dusting off your skirt and straightening your blouse internally thanking the almighty upstairs that you were still clothed while eying all of them suspiciously. “I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi if you want.”

Jin turned around after hanging up and offered you the only chair in the room. You quickly shuffled over sitting down and tried to ask again why you were here. In a bedroom, on a bed with your soulmates and their band mates all in the same room. “ Can someone please just tell me what happened?” Your voice staring to crack as you were close to tears. “This just feels too extrodinary to believe. You keep saying I have soulmates, as in plural. I didn’t even know that was possible.” It was then that you looked at your left hand and saw the red string tatoo. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME....Did I have a stroke? How...what...why...” your words became so jumbled you weren’t making any sense and you were pretty sure a panic attack was just a moment away from tackling your neurotic ass into submission. Jin kneeled in front of you telling you to breathe. “ In through the nose....out through the mouth Y/N. You can do it just breathe in and out, in and out...that’s it, you got it, in...out.” You sat there holding his hands while Tae began rubbing your back in circles as they were trying their best to calm you down. Jin explained to you that he also has a soulmate named Yuna and she is ready to come talk to you about what being attached to an idol can be like.

Across the room you heard a groggy voice “Uugghhhh....get off me Jungkookah. Why are we in bed? What happened” could be heard from the bed you just left. Jimin was sitting up while shoving Jungkook off of him and staring around the room. Jungkook fell off the bed. He jumped up and was getting ready to tackle his hyung who knocked him down when his eyes landed on you. He was confused as to why a woman, a very pretty woman, but a woman nonetheless was sitting in their studio bedroom at BigHit, surrounded by four of his hyungs. “Um, hello” he said quietly making Jimin look in the same direction. Eyes got wide when he also said a quiet hello and then proceeded to ask Namjoon “ What’s going on. Who is she and why are we all in here. I thought we were going to dinner?”

“See, I’m not the only one confused” you exclaimed louder and much squeakier than you meant. “Apparently we are soulmates” you say while gesturing to the both of them and yourself. “Surprise “ you say throwing up jazz hands and beginning to laugh at the outrageous looks on both of their faces.

“Who, who is your soulmate?” They both say at the same time.

Namjoon looks at you knowing you are barely holding on at the moment and answers for you. “All three of you are soulmates”.

They stare at each other then at you then at the group and both start laughing. “Ok ok, good joke hyung, stop playing around. Did you knock us out and this is a mystery mission? “ “Are we on a run BTS episode we didn’t know was being filmed?” They took turns asking like this was a prank or something.

When they see no one other than you are deadly serious they stop and start to freak out as well. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?” They look at each other only to both shout out that they couldn’t be soulmates. Why is it just happening now after knowing each other all these years. Brothers yes, soulmates no. NOPE. NO WAY, WHAT THE FUCK.

You get up and walk over to them. You grab both of their left hands and show them the tattoos. You peek inside your shirt and confirm you have the soulmates date above your heart, and tell them to check their chests as well. You strangely feel calm being around the two of them and less like a victim of some K-Pop Serial Killer drama that you stepped into, and you realize they also both settle down while you’re holding onto them.

Namjoon gets up and begins to explain that though it’s rare, there are known cases of multiple soulmates. They are harder to find because all of the mates must be together for their souls to connect. Once they do connect though the bond is stronger than a normal soulmates bond and can come with difficulties due to the relationship aspect of it. Prejudice often follows a poly soulmate connection due to the narrow mindedness of society and can often be looked down on. He tells the three of you that you should tell management right away so they can have a plan in place. Fans aren’t always supportive of their bias’s soulmates, and Y/N having two of the most popular idols in Korea as hers are going to come with challenges. Especially with you being a foreigner.

You three look at each other and back at Namjoon, silently agreeing to these terms. He also suggests you three need time together alone to get to know about each other because you all three had different lives leading up to today, and it would be best to figure out where you all should go from here. Other people’s feelings and relationships are going to be affected by what has happened and you all needed to be prepared for any backlash.

“Ok, now that this is all settled can we please get some dinner?” You hear from the other bed where apparently Yoongi has been napping throughout all the mental breakdowns.

To be continued...

Taglist: @mrcleanheichou @itsminniekat @dreamescapeswriting @seaoffangirling @4evahevah @sonderkook @bisexualmess007 @chxustuff @aviwasabi21 @skyys-universe @ally22042000 @ramblingsofawolfgirl

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