#i am full no contact with my mother for this exact shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gretavangroupie · 1 year

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Bloom (Chapter 7)

Chapter 6

Official Bloom Playlist

Warnings: Fluff, Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI

A/N: Please make sure to check out the playlist above for the full effect while reading this chapter. As always, thanks for reading!

“It’s always and ever, only you.” - Butterflies Rising

Flying with famous musicians is an experience, to put it lightly. The recognition of the guys ebbing and flowing throughout the day. Every once in a while a group of girls would quietly and nervously approach and ask for a photo with them, you offering to take it, and the girls walking away absolutely giddy. Josh, Sam, and Danny doing most of the talking throughout the interaction, Jake saying as little as possible but still happy to take a photo. Somehow you all ended up on the exact same flight into Flint. I guess that’s what happens when they are all from one of the smallest towns in Michigan.

You had never been to Frankenmuth, Josh has been telling you all about its endearing qualities leaving out the part about freezing temperatures of course. You had packed and repacked probably 10 times, you were so nervous about having the perfect outfit for Thanksgiving. You would be staying with Josh, Jake and Sam, at their childhood home for the weekend. You could tell the guys were already relaxing and looking forward to it with all of the horsing around and jokes they cracked the entire plane ride from Nashville to Flint. You and Josh sat in front of Jake and his girlfriend, Sam and Danny sitting next to each other across from you and Josh. They talked through the seats and across the aisle the entire hour and 45 minute flight. After telling the guys to calm down approximately 37 times during the flight, and waiting 30 minutes to find your suitcases on the carousel, you were finally stepping out the doors of the airport and walking to find your rental car. Jake offered to drive since there was snow on the ground and Sam had one too many inflight beverages. Danny left you all at baggage claim when his family arrived to pick him up. You, Josh, and Jakes girlfriend, all climb into the backseat, Sam in shotgun of course, claiming that his ‘legs were too long for the backseat’. You head down the road, with the car full of rowdy yelling guys, thanking the lord its only at 30 minute drive to Frankenmuth. You are speechless at the beautiful snowy landscape you see from the windows. It almost looks like a scene from a Hallmark movie. No one in the car understanding your surprise since they all grew up here. This is just normal to them.

Josh places his hand on your leg and leans into you to whisper into your ear, as you continue to stare out the window, “isn’t its beautiful here?”

You turn to him and reply, “its gorgeous, I can’t believe you grew up here.”

He smiles and pats your thigh, “I am so glad you got to come with me, this is going to be a great weekend.”

A few minutes later you all pull up to the Kiszka house, Jake stating “Ahhh yep just how we left it huh boys?”

“Yeah, let’s wreck some shit!” Sam jokes.

After collecting your suitcases from the trunk you all trek through the front yard up to the front door, where Josh’s mom is bursting through the door, “My babies are hooomeeee!” she squeals.

Josh releasing an exaggerated sigh “Mother, must you do this every time? You saw us three weeks ago!”

“Yes, I must do it!! You’re my babies!” She says hugging Sammy’s neck. His face making a playful choking expression behind her back.

You make eye contact with her nervously and you clam up not knowing what to say, but thankfully she says it first.

“Hi! You must be Joshy’s girl! I’m Karen!” She says pulling you into a hug, you’re so glad she is overly friendly.

“Hi, yeah I guess you could say that!” you say laughing and introducing yourself. She turns to Jake’s girlfriend pulling her in for a hug as well, “Hi sweetheart so glad to see you!”

“Mom we just came from Nashville, I know you probably think we are still sporting our thick Michigan skin but we aren’t and it’s 27 degrees out here, can you please let us in?!” Josh jokes.

She ushers you all inside the house which is much warmer than the front porch. The house is homey and smells like baked goods. There are photos adorning every wall of the home of Josh, Jake, Sam and a girl you haven’t met yet, through various stages of life. One in particular catching your eye of Josh and Jake probably around the age of 3. Jake holding a plastic guitar, and Josh holding a pretend microphone. Smiling to yourself knowing that photo was a small glimpse into the future.

Karen leads you around the house giving you the grand tour, pointing out where each of you would be sleeping during your stay. You all drop your bags in your respective rooms and the guys immediately bolt leaving you and Jakes girlfriend with Karen. You are a bundle of nerves being alone with them without the guys as a buffer. You all walk into the kitchen and Karen hands you each a cup of coffee. “This should warm you right up!” She says.

Both of you thanking her for inviting you for Thanksgiving and letting you stay in her home.

All of the sudden you hear a loud crashing noise from what you’re assuming is the basement. “Ope, here we go! Haven't been home 5 minutes!” Karen says. You decide to make your way down the basement steps to see if you can catch a peek at what is transpiring. The boys are physically wrestling each other on the floor. Sam and Jake are going at it as hard as they can. Jake may be smaller than Sam but he is totally kicking his ass. Josh is standing off to the side egging them on. You meet his eyes across the room and he winks before yelling “Rip his leg off Sammy boy!” In a macho sounding voice.

After a minute or two more they both stop and sit back on their haunches. You playfully ask, “Are you two trying to kill each other or…”

“Well Josh has his ear thing, so he can’t participate but loser has to shovel the driveway.” Sam says. “Currently... it’s a draw.” Eyes squinting at Jake.

As the words leave his mouth Jake tackles him to the ground and sits on his head and counts to three. “That’ll do it boys.” He says standing up and running up the stairs.

“Ugh, every time!” Sam says before storming up the stairs to find the shovel, leaving you and Josh alone in the basement. You begin to walk around exploring the many curiosities in the room. You spot a section on the wall where each child has been measured over their lifetime and rub your finger over the carved panel. “Awww you were so little…” you say smiling over to Josh.

“Some would say I still am!” He jokes, walking over to meet you. Clutching your coffee mug in your hand you take another sip of the perfectly warm liquid and hear a female voice ring out from upstairs, “Oh brotherrrrr…”

“Oh, looks like my sister made it home.” Josh smiles at you.

“Your sister?! You have a sister?!” You ask shocked.

“Yeah, Ronnie, well Veronica but don’t call her that, she’ll get mad.” He says jokingly.

“Oh gosh I was not prepared!” You say.

“You’ll do fine angel, just be yourself. Everyone can’t help but to love you. I would know.” He says interlacing his fingers with yours.

Ronnie makes her way down to the basement and down the stairs, practically leaping into Josh’s arms. “Hello Ronnie…” Josh says.

“Hi Josh! I am so happy to see you! How are you feeling? Is your ear okay? Is this your girlfriend?!” She spouts off.

“I am feeling fine, my ear is… well its been better, and yes this is my girlfriend.” He smiles proudly at you.

“Cute, nice to meet you!!!” She says excitedly.

“Nice to meet you too!” You reply before she bounds up the stairs.

“She is energetic…” you say.

“Yeah, and that is her as an adult…” he laughs.

“Thanks for bringing me here Josh, its really nice to meet your family and spend time with them.” You say shyly.

“Angel, I wanted nothing more than for you to be here with me.” He says bringing his lips to yours. You realize you have hardly kissed him today because of all the traveling and the proximity to his brothers. This makes you kiss him back a little harder to make up for it. Your hand finds its way up to his face your fingers sliding into his hair. He has shaved the sides of his head down again and the little hairs feel like velvet. As your tongues make their way into each others mouths you are quickly reminded that his mother is upstairs probably wondering where you two are. You pull away before diving back for one small quick kiss.

“I’m not done with you angel.” He says seductively pulling you closer to him.

“Well it will have to wait because there is no way we are doing this in your parents basement.” You reply.

“Fine, come on I want to show you something.” He says.

Taking your hand he leads you up the stairs and down a hallway lined with photos. At the end of the hallway on the right you step into a small bedroom. You know instantly this is Josh’s room. The walls are blue with movie posters stuck into the wall with thumbtacks, and various photos from high school taped together in a collage. His wooden queen size bed sits against a wall adorned with freshly washed blue plaid flannel sheets. Across the room is his matching desk with an outdated laptop sitting proudly atop, a handheld camera and a stack of notebooks. Josh walks over to the desk, sits down in the chair and flips through a notebook until he finds what he is looking for.

“Ah ha, here it is, in all her glory, the first logo for Greta Van Fleet” he laughs.

You look at the scribbled drawing of a ‘GVF’ melded together into a hieroglyph style drawing.

“You guys have really come a long way since that huh.” You smile up at him.

“Yeah, it’s crazy it all started right here too. Jake sat on that bed right there, guitar in hand and said ‘we should start a band’. That’s it, that’s all it took. He had just started really getting good at guitar and he had always helped me with my film projects so what skin was it off my back to help him with his dream? I dragged Sam along, and then came Danny. What I didn’t know then is that it would turn into this. His dream coming true and me getting to experience it along with him. All this. Its’s always been for him. I know he would have done the same for me so I never questioned it.” He says emotionally. You can tell that the emotions of being home and back in his childhood bedroom have taken ahold of him.

“Well, he’s your brother baby. Your twin actually. Your natural response is to care for him, he’s partly you, and you, him.” You reply sitting down on his lap.

He kisses your neck and whispers “How did I get so lucky?”

Your heads snap up as you hear Karen’s voice from the hallway “Joshy! Jake! Sammy! Ron...Lets go!”

You make your way to the kitchen and it smells divine, Karen has made dinner and this time when you see her, a man is attached to her side, who you know to be Josh’s dad Kelly. You had seen a video of him once that Josh showed you on his phone. After introductions you all are handed a plate of food and guided to the dining room table. You spend the rest of the evening laughing, chatting and getting to know each other around the Kiszka family table. You offer to help Kelly and Ronnie clean up the dishes and Josh puts a record on the record player.

The sounds of Yes’ ‘I’ve Seen All Good People’ ring through the sound system filling the house.

Jake and his girlfriend begin to dance, Jake twirling her around the room, her dress spinning in the air. Sam and Karen following suit, Sam dipping her in an exaggerated fashion. Everyone is laughing, smiling, and enjoying the moment. It seems like time is moving in slow motion around you. Josh makes his way up behind you, as you're drying dishes at the sink as Kelly hands them to you. Josh slides his hands around your waist hooking his fingers through your belt loops and kissing your neck. You throw your head back on top of his shoulder laughing and squirming and you wonder if this is how it’s always supposed to have been. You and Josh, here in this moment, together.

Sipping wine out of solo cups in the basement, the crew has gotten restless. Jake and Sam are in a heated game of Mario Kart and Ronnie and Jakes girlfriend are talking about where they want to go Black Friday shopping. Josh is laid out on the couch with his legs lazily draped over you. You feel his eyes burning into your skin. Looking over at him, his gaze locked in on you. A lot of alcohol and a little bit of freedom from his everyday life has sent him into a drunken spiral of lust, and it's directed at you.

“We are going to head up for the night, we will have a long day of shenanigans tomorrow.” Josh announces.

He stands up offering you his hand to help you up. He takes his red plastic cup and places it under yours, stacking them together before throwing them away in the trashcan. Leading you up the stairs and down the hall, you both make pit stops in the bathroom before walking to his bedroom. He quietly opens the door, letting you walk in before just as quietly shutting it. “We can’t be too loud, my parents are across the hall from me, of course.” He whispers.

“Okay.” you whisper motioning you zipping your mouth shut.

“I like that, I can work with that…” he says suggestively.

Rolling your eyes you pull your pajamas out of your suitcase. A pair of grey flannel pants with a matching button up top.

Josh has stripped down naked, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. Turning off the overhead light, he flips to switch on the lamp on his bedside table.

“Better...” he says quietly.

You begin to take off your clothes, the cool air causing your skin to cover with goosebumps. You quickly pull on your pajamas, relieved at the warmth of the fabric.

Josh pulls the comforter back and crawls in, you can tell he has always slept in the same spot as the bed slightly dips on the left side. He lets out a sigh of comfort and you turn off the lamp and crawl in next to him, aligning your body with his as the little spoon.

“Just like I remember it.” He says, “but with one new addition.” he adds as he kisses the back of your head.

“Do you get to come home very often?” You ask.

“No. Not nearly as much as I want to. I can usually make it home for Thanksgiving, Christmas and a week or so around the middle of summer, if we aren’t touring.” He replies sadly.

“But when I do get to come home, all of the stress in my life just melts away. It’s something about the air here. It’s clearer and calmer. Having you here with me just makes it that much better.” He says softly.

Turning over to your back you roll to face him and reach your hand to his face. You rub your thumb over his lips before gently pressing a kiss to them and whispering “I love you.”

“I love you too angel.” He says kissing you back with just as much love care and tenderness as you felt in his words. His left hand finds the skin of your stomach and slides up to cup your breast, massaging your supple skin.

Your hand migrates down to the hem of his sweatpants, slowly dipping below the surface and grazing the smattering of hair right above his base. You grab his length wrapping your hand around and squeezing gently, a silent plea that you want this to progress.

His hand makes its way to your center, feeling your warmth through the fabric of your pajama pants. His fingers gently untie the bow at your waist and begin to slide the pants down your legs. Once they are successfully off, his follow.

“Turn over baby, gonna have you like this...” He whispers in your ear.

You are back in a spooning position, the tip of his dick resting on the crotch of your panties.

“You have to be quiet, silent actually. Im going to fuck you, slow and deep and you’re not gonna make a sound. Okay?” He says.

“Okay.” you reply breathlessly.

His fingers find the crotch of your panties and two fingers dip underneath the fabric and graze through your wetness before sliding up to circle your clit a few times. A small whimper escaping your mouth.

“Hush baby or i’ll spank you next time.” He says into your ear with a bite.

His fingers pull your panties further to the side and he aligns the tip with your core. Thrusting his hips forward his dick slides into you easily with a little more tightness than usual from your side laying position. “Fuck angel, you are so tight like this.” Hey says.

“Hush baby...” you mock back at him.

He pumps into you hard one good time “oh angel are you mocking me?” He says thrusting again.

“Mmmm” you respond.

His hips begin to move slightly faster, and you feel your orgasm growing in your belly.

“Never did I think I would be fucking the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in this bed.” He grunts out.

“Shhhhh…” you reply.

“Oh baby you’re asking for it now.” He replies. His hand reaching around, fingers diving into the front of your panties pushing your hips back and holding you there as he continues to thrust into you. His fingers circling your clit.

“Josh I’m close, I’m gonna…” you breath out.

“Another sound and you're over my knee at the next opportunity baby, make your choice.”

One more hard thrust and you throw your head to the side, your mouth connecting with his as your orgasm runs its course inside of you. Your soft moan echoing into Josh’s open mouth.

He pulls you into him harder and pumps twice more before a grunt leaves his chest and you feel his cum wash over your insides.

“Tomorrow, while my family is in the house enjoying the lovely day, I am going to spank your ass and then I am going to fuck you over the amps in the garage. Bet on it angel.” He says pulling out of you.

He smoothes the hair away from your neck giving you a gentle kiss, before saying “also, love you so much and goodnight.”

Shaking your head smiling, you say “can’t wait and I love you too you, goodnight Josh.”

Pies. Waking up you smell pie. You realize Karen must already be up and started on cooking for Thanksgiving Dinner. You open your eyes and roll over and are greeted with the beautiful sight of Josh sleeping soundly next to you. The sun from the window splaying perfect yellow rays on his angelic face. His lips are slightly parted, and you silently think to yourself how unfair it is that his lips are so naturally plump and pink. You can see his eyes moving beneath the lid and realize that he is dreaming. The corners of his mouth begin to turn upward almost like he is trying to smile. You lay your head further into the pillow and just watch him for a few minutes. He is easily one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen and you can’t believe he is yours. You also think about how the identical, darker, broodier copy of him is in the next room over. Lighting struck twice. You make it a point to try to get to know Jake better this weekend. You have only had a few exchanges with him, but he is Josh’s twin, and his best friend and that makes him just as important to you. As you sit in your thoughts, a commotion from the kitchen rings through the house followed by a ‘sorry’.

Josh’s eyes slowly open and he smiles sleepily at you, stretching out his legs before pulling you over on top of him. “Good morning my beautiful *kiss* beautiful *kiss* girl.” he says affectionately. “How did you sleep?” He asks.

“I sleep like a log, I was exhausted.” You reply.

“Have you been up long?” He asks.

“Maybe 15 minutes?” You respond.

“You were just laying here waiting for me to wake up?” He asks.

“Kind of, I was watching you sleep and daydreaming. You were dreaming and smiling.” You say.

“What were you day dreaming about?” He asks.

“I was thinking about how beautiful you are and how I can’t believe that you chose me.” You reply.

“I would always choose you angel. And I always will. In a crowd of people the only face I see is yours.” He says with a kiss.

Smiling at him you roll off of him and stand up, starting to dig through your suitcase for your toiletries and the outfit you have carefully selected for the day.

A camel brown vintage style corduroy skirt, a cream colored cable knit sweater and knee high riding boots, finishing off with a cream and maroon plaid knotted headband.

You collect your items, blow Josh a kiss and head for the bathroom in the hallway.

After your shower you’re feeling immensely better. A quick curled blow out and simple makeup and you’re ready to socialize.

As you pass Josh in the hallway he has showered and is walking around in a towel heading for his bedroom.

As you enter the living room, you see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade playing on the TV over the fireplace. Kelly, Karen, and Ronnie are in the kitchen elbow deep in a turkey, who is about to meet its fate in the oven. Sam opting to sit this one out on the couch. You grab a cup of coffee and join him on the couch. Josh, Jake, and his girlfriend slowly filter out one by one until all of you are in the living room together, commenting about the performers and the gigantic balloons floating by. You spend much of the day with the group of siblings playing games in the basement, singing along to songs with Kelly in the kitchen and and chatting about shopping with Karen and Ronnie. Around 4 o’clock Karen announces that it is time to eat and you all collect in the kitchen to watch Jake cut the turkey. Apparently this is his thing, and he has done it for years. You all plate your food and select a seat at the beautifully set dining table.

Everyone is mostly done with their plates and just chatting with each other when Karen suggest going around the table and talking about the highs and lows of everyones year. Each family member taking their turn, discussing the hurt and pain and the joys and triumphs of their past year. As Josh begins on his turn his hand finds yours under the table squeezing it for support.

“It has been one of the hardest years of my life. I have had a few unthinkable things happen to me throughout the course of this year, jeopardizing what all of us here have worked so hard for and sacrificed so much for. I can truly say that I am immensely grateful for the love and support that you all, my family, have shown me this year. I wouldn’t have made it with out you…” he turns towards you “and If it weren’t for this girl right here, bringing me out of a fairly dark place when things were tough, I would have surely thrown it all away. The best decision I have ever made is sitting right here at this table with us, and I hope that she will continue by my side for years to come. Anyways, I love you all very much, and Happy Thanksgiving.” He finishes. Your eyes welling up with prideful tears for your love. You feel so lucky to be sitting at his side, and you too hope that you’ll be sitting here for years to come.

After the emotional experience that was Thanksgiving dinner, you again help out the girls with the dishes. The guys going down to the basement to have their ‘shenanigans’ as they keep calling it. As you finish the dishes, the girls decide to watch a Christmas movie, already excited about the impending holiday. You decide to go down to see what the guys are up to. As you reach the bottom of the stairs the smell of weed hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Ah, I see now what shenanigans are...” You laugh.

“Babyyyy” Josh exaggerates, “come take it hit, it will be fun.” He implores.

You decide what the hell, and sit down on the carpet with them, “alright, let me have it Sammy.” You say reaching your hand out.

“Alright, good girl isn’t so good…” Jake says with glazed eyes and a smile.

You take a small pull from the diminishing joint and inhale it into your lungs before slowly letting it leave your lips.

“Oh Jesus, that was hotter than I expected it to be.” Josh says. “everyday you surprise me.”

Shaking your head laughing you pass it over to Jake. The circle continues until the joint is dead. All of you absolutely gone when all is said and done.

Jake and Sam head upstairs to find out what leftovers there are to eat and you and Josh are left in the basement.

“I think I am ready to make good on my promise pretty girl.” Josh says swiping his thumb across your lips.

“And what promise is that?” You ask.

Your head floating you stare directly into his eyes and you swear you can see his brain at work.

“Lets go.” He says standing up and pulling your arm with him. You walk up the stairs, through the kitchen and out the side door. The garage is detached and sits slightly away from the house. You walk down a gravel path that leads to a door on the front of the garage. Josh grabs a key from over the door jam and unlocks the door before placing the key back. Stepping inside he flicks a light switch and an old fluorescent light audibly flickers on. This isn’t just a garage, this was their music space. There is a rug in the middle of the garage, a small black drum kit, and two sets of stacked amps on either side of it. Josh shuts the door behind you pushing out the cold air. He pushes you up against the door, his mouth desperately finding yours. Your hands grabbing at the tiny curls at the back of his neck, you arch your neck giving him access to your throat. He pulls your skirt up around your waist and slides your panties off, shoving them into his pocket. His hand returns and his fingers slide through your slick. The moan that escapes you is louder than usual, and you aren’t sure if it is the weed causing this but you’re fairly positive it is. Your senses are heightened and you are feeling things more intensely than before. Spreading your legs with his knee he squats down and wraps his arms around your thighs, his mouth connecting to your core. His tongue ricocheting in continuous motions against your clit. A scream crying out of you as the assault continues. A “mmmm” vibrates again your center as Josh says “you taste even better now than you normally do.” This sends your head spiraling and you are loosing yourself to the beautiful kaleidoscopic patterns forming in your closed eyelids. “Josh fuck me now before I cum.” you beg.

He stands up and leads you over the stack of amps. “Im going to make good on that promise angel. Remember, you made this choice last night.” Bending you over the front of the amplifier, he positions him self behind you and with a crash a slap rings out on your ass. “Count” he says.

“One.” You say.

“Good angel, again.” He breathes before delivering another harsh blow.

“Two.” You cry.

“Ahh so beautiful pretty girl.” Another blow lands on the red welting skin.

“Three.” A tear forms at your eye.

“One more baby.” He says delivering the final blow to the bright red skin.

“Four.” You choke back a sob of pleasure.

Leaning down kissing the throbbing skin Josh says “You did so good, baby. I love the way your body responds for me.”

Suddenly you feel Josh’s dick sliding into your dripping wet center. “You love it don't you baby... You are soaking wet for me.” He says. “We have to be quick, they will be coming to find us any minute.” You agree nodding your head.

Placing his hand firmly on your shoulder he begins to thrust into you pounding away at that sensitive collection of nerves inside of you. Your brain foggy from the weed begins to notice that your orgasm is already quickly approaching, “Josh I’m close. Please harder.” You beg.

He begins to drill into you harder your skin connecting and echoing off the garage walls. He moves his hands to either side of your hips pulling you to him and thrusting hard into you, his moan setting off your orgasm as you scream loudly into the cluttered garage. “God damn it angel, that was so fucking good” he says with a few more deep thrusts. “Im going to cum inside of you. Make you mine.” He says “Im cumming, god i’m cumming, fuck” with an explosive jolt you feel him fill you.

Hearing voices faintly outside, Josh quickly pulls out and pulls his pants on, tucking his sensitive dick in the waistband of his pants. He quickly throws you your panties and you slide them on and pull your skirt down just as the door knob rattles, feeling his cum dripping out of you.

Jake, his girlfriend and Sam and Ronnie step into the garage and stare at you.

“Oh god were you fucking?” Jake says in a grossed out voice. “On my amp, dude??” he says placing his hands over his head and walking out.

You and Josh smirking but not responding.

“Gross.” Ronnie says.

“Anyways… we were coming to find you to see if you wanted to jam in the basement for a while, Danny is heading over.” Sam says.

“What do you think angel, shall we?” Josh asks.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” You reply.

You all make your way out of the garage and lock it up before making the walk back to the house and into the basement.

The guys have been playing and messing around with new sounds for well over two hours. Everyone is a little bit drunk off hard seltzers, causing the giggles. The guys have played through some new music they are working on, no words written yet of course. Jake leans over to Josh and holds his hand up to cover his lips moving, and whispers in his ear. A smile erupting across Josh’s face as he nods his head. They telephone the secret message to each other until all of the guys are aware of the situation. Suddenly Jake starts playing his guitar, a soft and sweet melody ringing through the room. The rest of the guys come in and complete the sound.

Josh relaxes into the chair, and starts to softly sing playfully staring right into your eyes with a smile. As he makes it to the chorus you are feeling your smile in your cheeks. You are smiling so hard, and you notice that Josh’s eyes haven’t left yours this whole time as he continues to sing.

‘You’re the one I have, so come on back to me…’

As they wrap up the song Jake looks at the rest of the guys and says “Been a while for that one.”

“Too long, but now it’s right.” Josh says reaching his hand towards yours, lacing his fingers with yours he stands up and pulls you to stand with him.

“Goodnight.” He says tipping his head at everyone, you shrugging your shoulders smiling towards them.

Making the way to his bedroom he throws his arm over your shoulders pulling you into his side to walk side by side. Passing Karen in the living room she shoots you a soft smile and you can see the joy on her face, seeing her son so happy.

You enter the bedroom, softly lit by the side table lamp. You both change into your pajamas and you crawl into bed and turn off the light. The relaxed feeling from the weed, sex, and alcohol has turned your body into a useless collection of limbs. Josh throws his arm over you pulling you in tightly to his chest. “I meant every single thing I said today. You are so important to me, and I care about you so much. I hope you’re here with me for everything from now on.” he says “You fit in perfectly with everyone. They all love you. They told me.” He says in your ear.

“Who told you that?” You ask.

“Jake…” He replies, “My mom, Ronnie, Sam…” they have all pulled me aside today to tell me how wonderful they think you are. I can’t help but agree.” He says kissing your head.

“What did Jake say?” You question further. You have been the most nervous about him accepting you. He is Josh’s better half and his voice of reason, his guiding light, and Josh his.

“I cant tell you exactly what he said, that’s between us. Just know that he wants you to stay as much as I do.” He says.

Content with that answer you let it be. “I love you Josh, I am so glad I found you.” You say with a drowsy voice.

“Ahh angel, I love you too. So much. A place in my heart will forever belong to you.” He says with another kiss snuggling his head into his pillow. The next thing you hear is the even breaths from his perfect lips.

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ncssians · 2 years

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— rest

— # azriel x reader

— # this is a very random request so feel free to ignore it if you please but could i request an azriel x mate!reader where they’ve been together a while and are very much in love but the reader is feeling down one night and azriel is away so they find comfort in cassian (purely platonically of course) and then falls asleep in his arms or something? and azriel finds them like that and gets all possessive/jealous/insecure? idk it’s just w random thought i have, no pressure to do it!

— # wc ; 900 ish

— # warnings ; this is my first time writing in a hot minute so this could very well be shit :D that is my only warning, bless.

Azriel had been gone on a mission for nearly a week now, and you were beginning to grow anxious at his absence.

You had no doubts that your mate was able to handle himself, but Rhysand told you he would be gone for two days. three at most. Azriel blocked off any communication through your bond which you had grown accustomed to, but after so many days without any contact, you wanted nothing more than to hear his voice again.

“y/n?” You jerked at the familiar gruff tone. “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at that book for minutes now.”

Your eyes met Cassian’s hazel ones. “Any word on Azriel?” you asked, albeit weakly. You released the death grip you had on the book in your lap having forgotten what you were doing before your thoughts began storming.

Cassian spared you a pitying look that had you biting the inside of your cheek. He stalked towards where you sat on the couch and tentatively claimed the empty space to your left. “None.” he whispered. “But Azriel knows what he’s doing.”

You sighed, trying to rein in your frustration. “I know he can handle himself perfectly fine, I just don’t like that he’s been gone far longer than Rhys planned for. With the war brewing…it irks me, Cassian.”

“I know,” Cassian lifted his arm in an invitation for comfort, which you happily accepted, “it irks me as well. It helps to remember that he is, quite possibly, one of the smartest males I have ever met.” A cheshire smile broke out onto his face, one full of mischief. “But I, for one, am the strongest out there.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might’ve rolled to the back of your head. “Oh, mother, you are the stupidest male i have ever met.”

Cassian chuckled and pinched your shoulder. “You didn’t even deny it. Don’t act like you don’t know it’s true, lady.”

—

Azriel needed a drink. Or more importantly, his mate, but a strong drink sounded real nice at this moment.

He was going to strangle Rhysand for this mission. The one that kept him away from his mate for too damn long.

Two days. Rhysand had said. Three at most, but I know you.

He truly would’ve had this mission done in two days had he not been given old, outdated information. The objects he was supposed to obtain were not at the exact coordinates Rhysand had given him. Instead they were halfway across Prythian, in the heart of the Winter Court.

Yeah, he’d throttle Rhys for this one.

He padded quietly into the Town House, not bothering to keep his shadows on such a tight leash. They whipped around his head, but never did they block his vision. They could feel his distress.

Azriel picked up on the scent of you, trailing his way through the house and to the library. He froze upon entering.

There you sat, curled under Cassian’s arm, the both of you asleep. A low growl set at the base of his throat, which woke Cassian up immediately.

“Azriel,” he said, tone laced with sleep.

Azriel only hissed, “Get out.”

Cassian huffed. “What a greeting. Happy to see you too, brother.”

You shuffled in your sleep, snuggling further into Cassian, which had Azriel’s blood boiling.

“Get off my mate, and leave us.” he growled once more.

Cassian raised his hands. “Message received.” he rose from his spot on the couch, laying you down gently so as to not wake you up. He stopped at Azriel’s left on his way out and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She was worried, you know. I was her shoulder to cry on tonight, nothing more.”

And with that, Cassian left the library. Azriel nearly choked in relief at Cassian’s admission.

Azriel knelt in front of your face, a scarred hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he whispered as he touched his forehead to yours. You shifted again, but did not wake.

He didn’t wake you up as he took you to your shared bedroom. As much as he wanted to, to wake you and take you for much needed release, he merely cradled you to his chest as he walked up the stairs.

The bed looked very enticing after spending a week on cold, hard rock, but he did not succumb to the desire. Instead, he set you as gently as he could on the mattress, hesitantly leaving you to change into something much more comfortable than his leathers.

When he came out of the wardrobe, you were sitting up, eyes wide and full of relief.

“Azriel?” you choked out. His heart cracked at the sound.

“I’m so sorry, love.” he whispered into the darkness. “I wanted to come home sooner, truly.”

You only shook your head. “You’re home now. That’s all that matters.” you waved your hand towards him. “Come. You look exhausted, and I am in need of my mate.”

His shoulders sagged at your words, finding total comfort in your voice. Your arms were open, an invitation for him to lay on your chest, which he greedily accepted.

“I’m going to have some words with Rhys.” he whispered into your neck.

You weakly chuckled. “There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, let’s rest.”

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader

401 notes · View notes

wonjaekook · 3 years

Text

Residual Starshine

Pairing: Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos @insomni-writing @neowritingsnet

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds. All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

#yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #neowritingsnet #nct angst #yuta angst #nct one shot #yuta one shot #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #yuta imagine #nct imagine #yuta fanfiction #yuta fanfic #sports collab #i hope everyone enjoys this :)#apologies for lateness #wonjaekook

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championofsanghelios · 3 years

Text

Watch Dogs Legion - "M"

This was written by me, remember. So expect the usual errors, typos and word bugs (bzz.) --- [11.11.2029] [THE EARLS FORTUNE] [2044 HOURS] --- "...that's not my point!" Jackson says as he pushes the door open, his waterproof dripping wet from the rain that was lashing down outside. "You need to stop being so reckless, and actually consider the risks to yourself...as well as others."

"There's no fun in being careful!" Wrench replies, following him in. He was absolutely soaked through, but didn't seem to care. "It takes away the unpredictability...which is what I love about those Ops. Just showing up with my Lady Smash and some home made explosives...it's great!"

"That's another thing I need to talk to you about." Jackson pulls off his waterproof, draping it over one of the radiators near the wall. "There's breaking things, then there's vaporizing them..."

Connie comes out of the back room, letting out a laugh when she sees them both. "Well Well, you two took your time getting back."

"Only because this one here decided an Albion Comms Tower needed to be demolished." Jackson says, moving past her into the backroom where he locates a towel to dry his hair. "I'm yet to figure out how he wasn't caught or killed."

"You're making a name for yourself, Reggie." Connie says, moving around to the other side of the bar. "Not entirely sure if it's a good one, but...a name nonetheless."

"Yeah well, I'm just prepared to do whatever is necessary to take this city back." Wrench shrugs, gladly accepting the beer she places on the bar for him. "If that involves blowing up Albion property or smashing up Blume server stacks with my hammer, so fucking be it."

"It's dangerous." Jackson appears from the backroom, tossing the towel at him. "You better change that sweater by the way. You'll catch a chill."

"What are you my mother!?" Wrench let's out a modulated grunt, pulling up his mask slightly and downing about half of the beer he'd been handed. "Give me a break, we made it back okay!"

"And what happens if you end up getting arrested, or seriously wounded?" Jackson asks, opting for a bottle of water instead of anything alcoholic.

"Oh no." Wrench shakes his head placing his bottle down on the bars surface, his exposed mouth smirking. "There's no injuries with me. Either I get the job done, or die trying."

"You genuinely don't care if you live or die?" Jackson asks, giving him a look. "Seriously?"

"I don't have this for nothing." Wrench points at the anarchy symbol on his neck. "I don't live by rules, that includes the ones to do with life and death."

Jackson is about to say something when the door pushes open and Aiden comes in, feeling about as miserable as he looked. He was wet, but not in the same way the two of them were, something else had happened to him. "Wow! What happened to you!"

"I fell in the Thames." Aiden grumbles, shaking the water from the sleeves of his overcoat. "...actually I dove in there after some thugs caught me stalking them."

"Oh that reminds me!" Connie suddenly pipes up, her hand tapping Wrench's right forearm. "There was a bloke in here earlier on. He was asking for you."

"A bloke?" Wrench replies, questions marks lighting up his askew mask. He downs more of his beer. "Who was it?"

"No idea." Connie shakes her head, smiling. She reaches under the bar, taking out a small piece of white card paper. "But he was lovely, all charms...asked me to pass this onto you."

Wrench eyes the card for a second, opting to pull off his mask entirely. He takes a hold of it, turning it around. Someone had written a note in red-ink.

YOU NEED TO ANSWER YOUR PHONE, MAN ALSO THE WEATHER HERE IS NUTS!!! SEND ME A MESSAGE WHEN YOU GET THIS oh...and thank Connie for the free cookies. - M

He suddenly let's out a cough as he chokes on the beer he's drinking. Lifting the card up. "...motherfucker!"

"What?" Jackson stops trying to wrestle his Uncle out of his coat. "What is it?"

"I'll be right back." Wrench says, leaving his beer and his mask at the bar. He heads out into the rain, ignorant to the fact that it was making him wetter than he already was.

Taking his out his phone, he swipes up the contacts tab, scrolling down until he finds the right number. He thumbs it, his Optik lighting up and dialling.

After a tone or two, he hears a click.

"You took your time." Marcus' voice was something that he would never ever tire of hearing, especially now, especially after all of the shit he'd been through the last year or two. "I was wondering if Connie would get that to you."

"You're here." is all Wrench can say, unsure of what he should do now. Part of him wanted to jump for joy, another wanted to cry. "...you're actually here. In London."

"Yeah, I guess I couldn't just sit there in SF and let you have all the fun." Marcus chuckles. "...that little job we did together a few months back reminded me of how much I enjoyed having you around."

"Where are you right now?" Wrench asks, reaching up this face, rubbing at it. "Are you nearby?"

"Why?" Marcus asks, a smile evident in his voice. "You that desperate to see me?"

"Yes." Wrench admits it there and then. In truth there hadn't been anything he wanted to do more than see him again. "...It was the same for me. I didn't realise how much fun I used to have with you until you found me through, Jordi."

He moves over to one of the benches, sitting down on it. All around him, London was going about it's business, people were walking past, umbrellas in hand, hoods covering their heads. Looking out across Parliament Green, he sighs.

"I hear you've been having some fun outwith our little shared Op." Marcus says. "Something about killing Nigel Cass?"

"He had it coming." Wrench snorts bitterly, shaking his head. "Fuckin' maniac thought he could subvert justice and launch a coup...which reminds me, I've got to introduce you to the Dick."

"The Dick?" he hears the Hipster's confusion. "Who's that? Dusan's cousin?"

"Might as well be." the Anarchist nods, smiling to himself. "His name is Richard Malik...and he's a massive prick...but he's been useful to us."

"Wait...is that the same Richard Malik who was appointed Director of SIRS, only to be exposed literally 2 days later?" Marcus asks.

"That's the one." Wrench nods, sitting forwards. Staring at the concrete between his shoes. "I should send you the vids from when Bagley used his own FILAMENT against him."

"FILAMENT?"

"...what were his exact words?" Wrench's eyes narrow. "It's like...Nudle, but with instant access to all information about every person in the UK...basically George Orwell's wet dream."

The laugh that Marcus let's out is cathartic, such a delightfully bright noise, and one he could never get enough of. One he hoped he would hear more of soon.

It's short lived though, as a whole load of other feelings come to the surface in the pause that follows. He deflates a little. "I've missed having you around, M."

"I know." Marcus replies.

"So where are you?" Wrench asks. "Are you coming back this way? Or am I going to have to find you?"

He gets no response to those questions. His eyes narrow slightly. "M?"

Suddenly there's a movement in his peripherals, at which point a hand appears, holding his mask. He looks at it for a second, almost stunned.

"You're making a habit of leaving that thing lying around..." Marcus says, having just sat down next to him. "...am I gonna have to retrieve it for you every time you misplace it?"

Wrench doesn't move, he just sits there, frozen in place. Marcus had aged, much like himself, but not in the way he was expecting. He still looked pretty much the same as he always had, spare the scruff around his face and neck, which had turned into a full beard...and a little tinge of silver hair on his fringe.

Something shifts inside him at that moment, a tightness in his core that he wasn't even aware of unravels. A laughs bubbles out of him, one that turns to a sob half-way, and without so much as a word he puts an arm around him and pulls him into a hug, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Huh." Marcus says, placing the mask onto his lap and closing the hug. "Of all the reactions I was ready for...this wasn't one of them."

"Shut up." Wrench says, his voice muffled by his shoulder. "Just-...Just shut up."

Marcus laughs out loud again.

. . .

#watch dogs legion #wrench #marcus holloway #wrencus #jackson pearce #aiden pearce #connie robinson #i wrote this instead of sleeping #good night zzzz

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dazai-fics · 3 years

Text

Stargazing – Dazai Osamu

Pairing: Dazai x Reader (high school au)

Word Count: 2.6k*

Warnings: slight cursing, smut/nsfw- oral, fingering

Summary: Having Osamu Dazai as your boyfriend has never been boring.

A/n: This has been stuck in my head for a while and I finally was able to sit down and write it out so I hope you guys enjoy and don’t judge me too much because this is my first time writing out smut !

Inspired by: Stargazing*- The NBHD

You could feel the cool of the evening seep into your bones as you groggily sat up in your plush bed. Once, then twice, did you blink to remove any bit of remaining sleep as you looked over to the source of your annoyance.

Your phone lit up with a string of messages from only one contact; a contact that as of late had made your heart pound in a way that was indescribable in every sense of the word. Sighing, you picked up the phone and began to read over the messages your extremely clingy boyfriend woke you up with.

‘Samu ♡:

1:04 AM

hey baby i can’t sleep u up?

1:04

Belladonna ? :(

1:05

I’m coming over, have a surprise for us :)

He’s what?

You were now fully awake at this point and groaned at the spontaneity and impulsiveness of your brunette lover. Knowing you had no choice but to go along with his antics, you got out of your bed and quickly ran to your closet hoping the faster you went, the quicker the chills would go away as they flared your arms and legs up with goosebumps.

You were already wearing sweatpants, so you decided to just throw on a black hoodie that was suspiciously too big on your figure.

You inhaled deeply as the smell of vanilla and mint overcame your senses causing a serene smile to overcome your features. Yes, this was indeed the sweatshirt of the Osamu Dazai; a man that in the last couple of months has invaded your every waking thought and had claim over any flush in your cheeks, dimple in your smile, and crinkle in your eyes as they closed shut-tight over the unbearable laughter released at one of his cheesy jokes.

Of course that didn’t mean everything was all raised heart beats and shared smiles with the boy as dating Dazai also meant caring for him and all his dark thoughts and emotions. As well as vise versa since your life by no means was easy and perfect. However, no matter how bad things got; or who left or entered your life, you could always count on Dazai, and him you, to be there whenever life caught you both in it’s gloomy and seemingly inescapable hold.

Another smile escaped your lips and you once again inhaled the calming scent; now thinking back to how you met the lanky, mysterious, goofball.

You had moved to your new town back in your freshman year of high school which of course meant having to make new friends and basically start a whole new life in a time that was so important and vital.

You remember your first day at ADA highschool so vividly; the sweat that built in your palms, and the barely visible motion of your toes curling into your shoes from anxiety. You had thought making friends would be impossible no matter how many times your parents assured you that your “charming” personality would help you make friends so very easily.

It was the end of the day and you were sure that your still very much lack of friends would mean that would be the truth for the rest of your four years in this high school you were very much forced to attend. You felt a tear quickly escape your eye as the anxiety started to take physical form; quickly you ran to a quiet corner and began to wipe furiously and harshly at your eyes as you reprimanded your sensitivity.

“What am I five? Why am I crying so hard?”

You jumped suddenly as you heard quiet giggles next to your ear.

You felt embarrassment flood your body as you wiped even harder to stop the tears. He was a bit blurry, but you could faintly make out the long, curly, brunette hair; dark chocolate eyes, and white bandages that wrapped around his long, lanky, figure. He also wore casual clothes which consisted of jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers.

Your first thought, of course besides the initial embarrassment and anger, was why he was wrapped in those seemingly endless rolls of bandages.

“Who is this weird banaged guy?” You scoffed to yourself as your sniffles came to an end.

“Done crying?” He asked teasingly, that stupid smug smile still on his face.

“I don’t remember asking for your help or comfort,” you said defensively, the venom not really reaching your still red and glossy face.

The boy laughed again good-naturedly; not intentionally trying to rile you up but he couldn’t help but think your anxiety was misplaced.

“Well then, why don’t you come walk home with my friend Atsushi and I, could be fun~,” he offered, his hand held out to you in an act of trying to make you feel comforted.

Your eyes widened as you hesitantly accepted his offer; the boy rushing you along as soon as your hands made contact, going into a rant over another boy named Kunikida mothering the absolute shit out of him.

Four years had gone by and you were both in your senior year; nothing really changing between you except the now official titles of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘partner’ which you had longed for since as long as you could remember.

Since that fateful day, you had become a part of the best group of friends you could ask for consisting of Atsushi, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, Ranpo, kyouka, and of course Dazai.

However, you knew you wanted something more with Dazai since freshman year and although you two were… close, he never seemed interested in more. He seemingly always had a new girl on his arm bragging about the various amounts of… sexual interactions he would have with them and each time it broke your heart a little more.

Despite all that, he would hold you whenever you were down, wiped your tears whenever they fell, and held you close when you couldn’t sleep; pressing gentle kisses when he thought you were knocked out by exhaustion finally hitting you.

Dazai had intimacy issues and fears you knew were holding him back from officially committing to you which is why you never pressed anything and kept your feelings locked up nice and tight… until a couple of months ago when it all came to a head.

Harsh words; honest words were shared by you both in an argument you thought would rip the person you had come to love and rely on most from you forever. Luckily it did the exact opposite as Dazai decided he was done with denying himself from your pure and warm love that made his dark world just a bit brighter everyday.

And now you two were inseparable; lips never too far from each other, limbs entangled whenever chance allowed. Your other friends were definitely sick of it but you both didn’t care as you denied each other from this comfort for too long to let any time go to waste.

You were snapped out of your reverie by gentle tapping at your window. You quickly turned your head to see the man of your thoughts sitting patiently on the ledge, a goofy smile etched into his pretty, pink lips.

You scoffed playfully as you made your way across the room to open the window for him. Immediately, he placed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly.

“Mmm missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips causing you to giggle.

“We saw each other, like, six hours ago!” You exclaimed slapping him playfully, causing him to release a laugh himself.

“Exactly! Now c’mon I’m taking you somewhere,” Dazai commanded you gently, grabbing your hand as he guided you out the window.

“‘Samu it’s one in the morning, where are we going?” You groaned in annoyance wanting your boyfriend to join you in bed and cuddle you back to sleep.

“Nuh uh uh~ It’s a surprise!” He exclaimed playfully booping you on the nose as you both made your way to his black range rover.

“Alright, whatever, can I at least get a hint?”

“Hmm, okay, okay, fine,” Dazai relented as he began to type away on his phone playing a song from his spotify that came out on his connected bluetooth, touch screen.

Take it from the top, if I start I just can’t stop…

You giggled silently as you shook your head, your boyfriend rolling down both of your windows and turning up the music for what he likes to call ‘the full midnight drive experience.’

“So are we going stargazing?!” You yelled over the wind and music.

“Yep!” He yelled back cheerily taking one hand off of the wheel to rub at your thigh comfortingly.

“Pull it out of park put in drive, I can feel your heart beating with mine, underneath the stars, lookin' for a sign glowin' in the dark 'til the sun shines, made it pretty far on the first try, might've set the bar a little too high, started with a spark, now we're on fire-”

You both yelled together which winded up with you both laughing uncontrollably. Dazai continued to sing along with the neighborhood as you took this as a chance to examine how gorgeous this man truly was.

His silky, curly brunette hair went everywhere as the wind entangled with it, his dark chocolate eyes shined with the headlights from the cars going on the opposite side of the freeway, his bandaged hands gripped at the wheel allowing you to see every vein and bone from his knuckles, and his face was flushed pink from the yelling and wind.

You laughed freely as you once again joined in with his singing; utter and complete joy filling you both which was rare.

Eventually, you both reached a secluded park with a hill; perfect for sitting and stargazing. Once you both got out, Dazai layed out a towel for you both to cuddle on without getting soaked from the freshly sprayed grass.

You both giggled loudly like the teenagers in love you were as you made yourself comfortable on your boyfriend’s chest; his lanky arms coming to wrap themselves around you, one occasionally letting go to point out the constellations or meteors blinking past in the inky sky.

You had to hold in your snickers whenever he would wrongly name a constellation but nonetheless; you would place a soft kiss on his cheek and thank him for teaching them to you.

Soon, the soft kisses on the cheek would turn to passionate kisses on the lips as Dazai changed his position to where he was on top of you. He began to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck; the juxtaposition of his warm kisses to the cold air surrounding you both caused small whimpers of pleasure to leave your lips.

“‘Samu…” you called breathily causing your boyfriend to look up from the dark hickeys he was ever-so-carefully placing on your collarbone.

“What is it, my belladonna?” He asked teasingly, returning to his methodically placed kisses.

“More…” you whined as arousal began to pool in your gut.

“As you wish.”

Dazai kissed lower down your belly to the elastic band of your panties. After leaving a couple small kisses on your hip bone, he looked up into your eyes for confirmation it was okay to go further. You nodded urgently and placed your hand in his soft locks as if to urge him on. He let out a chuckle at your eagerness but complied nonetheless; you were his princess and whatever you asked of him he would do, even at the cost of his own wellbeing.

After pulling down your sweatpants and panties, he immediately attached his tongue to your clit; moving it in small circles he knew would make you fall apart. Your whines and whimpers fuled him on as your fingers harshly pulled on his locks.

“‘Samu… want your fingers” You ordered in between moans.

“Where baby, tell me,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your clit.

“inside…please!”

“As you wish.”

Dazai slowly placed his ring and middle fingers into your tight cunt, “Fuck belladonna, so wet for me,” he all but moaned as he gently moved his fingers around trying to find the spot that would have you fall apart all over him.

“‘Samu there! Please!” You gasped as he found your G-spot; not letting up until your back arched and you cummed all over his fingers.

“Good girl; my good, pretty girl that’s it,” he whispered gently as he coaxed you down from your high.

He licked away all the wetness from his fingers as he came back up to meet your lips in a passionate kiss filled with lust and love.

“‘Samu, want more..” you begged softly against his lips.

“Mmm what could you possibly mean~” your boyfriend teased causing you to groan.

“Oh like you don’t want the same thing I can see your hard-on from here,” you teased back looking down to see he was indeed impossibly hard in well fitted grey sweatpants.

“Ha-ha touché, belladonna.”

You both shared a loving laugh as you once again met in a kiss, your hand cupping the back of his head to bring him even closer. Dazai separated for a second to take off his pants and underwear letting his painfully hard cock hit against his abdomen, Dazai letting out a hiss from the cold hair hitting it.

“Need you baby, please,” you whined as your boyfriend soothed you with a kiss to the neck as he began to line his dick up with your wet pussy.

“Almost in, tell me if it ‘urts,” he mumbled as he began to fill you up.

You gasped, never truly used to his size but feeling complete nevertheless.

“Okay?” He asked gently and you nodded kissing his cheek giving him the silent permission to keep going.

“Feels so good ‘Samu!” You moaned as he picked up speed.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, always so good and tight for me,” your boyfriend praised as he kept up a gentle pace trying to bring you both to your respective highs.

“Gonna cum ‘Samu,'' you whimpered as you felt the coil in your abdomen beginning to snap.

“Go on belladonna, cum for me,” he praised as you did just that; the fast tightening of your warm cunt milking Dazai’s cock as he began to cum with you.

Dazai collapsed on top of you, burying his head in your warm neck and you wrapped your smaller arms around his waist.

“Love you so much ‘Samu,'' you whispered as you felt soft kisses being placed on the dark hickeys your boyfriend left prior.

“Love you more, belladonna; thank you for always being by my side,” he whispered back.

After indulging in each other’s warmth and comfort for a while longer, Dazai cleaned you both up with the towel and dressed you both as he then gently picked you up and placed you in the back seat to lay down as you had fallen asleep.

He took a warm blanket he always kept for you in the trunk and tucked and buckled you in as he took his place in the driver’s seat and drove you both back to your house.

Once you both arrived he took you in arms and walked you both up to the front door where he used the key you gave him to let you in. As quietly as possible, he then took you both upstairs to your room where he tucked you in again and then got comfortable in the bed next to you; gathering you in his arms and then pressing a kiss to your head.

“Good night, my love sleep well.”

#dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #dazai #osamu dazai #smut #bsd smut #my writing

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

We should talk about it

I decided to treat myself something so here you go! A little fic after the kiss in the alley, where they have to talk about it.

(Turns out it is a lil steamy! Beware! 😂) Boys be insecure and boys be pining. Please enjoy!

On Ao3 here

Geralt walks in the room, closes the door behind him, and leans back at it.

He looks at the floor for a moment, and then up at Jaskier. That can’t be good.

Jaskier sits on the floor leaning back on the bed while writing. His heartbeat picks up when his eyes meet Geralts. A nervous flutter that has always been there but gotten worse just these last few days.

“We should talk about it.” Geralt says.

Fuck.

“About what?” Jaskier feigns ignorance, buying worthless time as his mind races for ways to avoid this exact conversation, like he has for days now.

“The kiss.”

Fuck.

It’s hard to look at Geralt now, to meet his eyes, so he looks down into his writings again, finding comfort in his own words. He writes down things he wishes to hide, to rework them and pretty them up a little.

“Uhm… Why?” He asks, fiddling with the edge of the paper. Stupid question, he could kick himself.

“Because you are obviously bothered by it.”

Shit shit shit why does Geralt always pick up on the wrong things at the wrong time?

Flirt openly with the man for years, get over it, and then this, and now the fool realizes somethings afoot?

“I'm not bothered.” Jaskier lies.

Geralt hasn’t moved from where he’s leaning on the door. A good and a bad sign. Good for giving him space, bad for Jaskiers heart.

“You have been avoiding me.”

Now Jaskier has to look up at him with a look of disbelief. Half truths then.

“We are literally sharing a room.” Jaskier deadpans.

He is a good actor, but Geralt's nose is a worthy opponent.

“You know what I mean.” Geralt keeps staring at him, and yes, well.

“I’m not sure I do. What am I doing, or rather not doing, to make you think I'm avoiding you?” Jaskier asks. It is sweet that Geralt has noticed, but really, again, so slow.

“You don’t… touch me anymore.” Geralt sounds strangled. “I know we just kissed to throw them off, but it is obviously bothering you and I- hm.”’ Ah, the Hmm. “I'm sorry. You are my best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

Jaskiers jaw drops. Of all the things he expected, it was not that.

“I- No. Geralt, we did what we had to.” Jaskier says, and he is aching inside.

It was slightly more than they actually had needed to.

Geralt had grabbed his chin, eyes burning and Jaskier was helpless. Parted his lips, moan caught in Geralt's mouth as he got pushed against the wall. Their pursuers disappeared, but they lingered. And Jaskier can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop himself from wanting more.

“I'm still sorry. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.” Geralt says. He looks so earnest, and Jaskier can’t take it anymore.

Giving his writing, his escape, a mournful look he rises up and dust off his knees.

“I’m not.” Ah fuck. Here he goes. “I’m uncomfortable around myself, to be completely honest.”

They look at each other from across the room, trying to read the other. Jaskiers heart is beating hard, what he is about to say might fuck things up irrevokeably.

“I liked it.” Jaskier confesses quietly. Complete and utter silence.

Jaskiers cheeks burn, and he fears what might happen.

“You don’t have to lie.” Geralt says, smiles kindly. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I'm not.”

“I can smell your fear. And you like all kisses.”

Jaskier makes an exasperated motion with his arms. Damn take this man's insecurities and toss them in the deepest fucking hole.

“Mothers take me, Geralt, I’m not lying. I liked your kiss. I'm scared because I want more!”

There it is. There is his doom.

Jaskier feels out of breath, like all that running finally caught up with him. Geralt looks at him with disbelief.

“You-?”

“Yes!” Jaskier sighs, and starts pacing the room, mindful of his work on the floor. “Whatever you think, I don’t like all kisses. I like- yours, ok?”

Jaskier is working himself up into a full rant, arms flailing around. Geralt takes a step forward, catching Jaskiers hand in his.

“So why did you avoid me?” Geralt asks quietly, and Jaskier smiles sadly.

“I value our friendship higher than any kiss.”

“But you liked it?” Geralt asks again, and takes another step closer.

Jaskier can’t breathe, suddenly he feels like he is burning, like someone is squeezing around his chest.

“I did.” He says again, allowing himself to feel, to hope, to want. Geralt's hand is big around his, warm and a little sweaty. Is Geralt nervous?

“We could do it again.” Geralt says lowly, and oh. That’s a thought indeed.

This time Jaskier is the one who steps closer, all his thoughts in a hopeless jumble.

“We could.” He agrees, slipping his hand out of Geralt to put them at his sides, steadying himself. Geralt feels warm under his hands, real. There is not enough air in the room, his knees are like jelly. When Geralt puts one hand on his lower back and one under his chin and tilts Jaskiers face up.

Up, in that tantalizing angle where they just hover, inches away from each other, breaths mingling.

Jaskier can feel his heartbeat jump in his throat, feel every point of contact like a burn, his eyes fall shut and his lips open to let out a small puff of fluttery feelings.

Geralt surprises him, warm lips connecting just between his ear and jaw. A small and slightly embarrassing sound escapes him, and he leans forward in search for more contact. Geralt allows it, pressing them closer together as he presses hot, open kisses to the soft skin there.

Jaskier angles his head to allow him more room, barely believing this is happening.

“Geralt” he says. “Please.” He says.

He is not sure himself what he is asking for, but Geralt seems to feel the same. He lifts his head from Jaskiers neck, nose dragging against Jaskiers cheek until they do that terrible hover again.

If Jaskier wasn’t desperate for Geralt to take the initiative, to really prove that he wants this, he would do something about it.

But for now he will have to swallow heavily, lick those suddenly very dry lips and hope Geralt will do something soon.

Jaskier never knew what a fucking tease Geralt was, but he is starting to learn.

Finally, finally, Geralt closes the distance, kissing on Jaskiers lower lip, and Jaskier is trying to decide if this feeling is more like dying or like flying. His stomach swoops, it tingles all the way out in his fingertips, and he grabs a hold of Geralt's tunic, holding him close. He could cry, he could laugh, but what he does is moan.

Geralt leans into him even more, taking the opportunity to lick between his parted lips. All too soon Geralt pulls back, and Jaskiers lips already feel lonely.

They press their foreheads together, breathing the same air for a few heartbeats.

“Still like it?” Geralt asks, the bastard.

“No. You should try again.” Jaskier says, because he can be a bastard too.

#the witcher #kiss aftermath #kinda #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #kissing #this is a kiss focused fic #dapanda writes #jaskier #jaskier the bard #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #talking about it #geralt is a big boy and uses his words #julian alfred pankratz #steamy

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aka-ashi-keiji · 3 years

Text

“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

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

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard.

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared.��

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs.

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ‘yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting.

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces.

“I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls. it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him. He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday.

***************************************🌸

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melon-boyy · 3 years

Note

👀 oc you ship with melon? :3c /tell me more/

First of all I love you?? My OCs are my biggest special interest and I consider them my most favorite hobby, but I almost never get anyone who's interested in hearing about them so I cherish these rare moments so so much 💞💞💞

Get ready for a serotonin-boosted infodump because I am autistic and I Do Not Shut Up 💖

Her name is Ajima and she's an ugly bitch who I love very much. She has a toyhouse with a more detailed bio! I use toyhouse mainly for storage and not to share publicly so it's not THAT prettied up but it's actually one of my better ones bc I love her a lot

Ajima is a mutt, as in dog hybrid of a chinese crested, pitbull and schnauzer. My headcanon is that dog hybrids aren't quite as unaccepted by society as hybrids between fully different species, as they're still dogs at least. However crossing anything with a chinese crested was a bad idea regardless.

She's a mostly-hairless dog with the muscular built of a pitbull, the moustache of a schnauzer and patches of coarse fur that really only make it worse rather than save it. (We're going by animal human standards, not human ones. You know the "hair" is definitely not pretty to them)

Ajima is a lil bastard who works at a small club near the black market as a sex worker and dominatrix, specializing in pain play (hehe). She may not be much to look at, but she has low predatory instincts due to being a full dog, which enables her to indulge in more dangerous kinks with herbivores without endangering them. To her, it's a form of venting, as she's been mistreated all her life, so she enjoys to, in a way, enact revenge through this, but without it being too illegal. She loves to be in control, but she doesn't want to actually hurt or even kill anyone (beyond consent, that is).

Her mother was a pureblood fashion model who hated her daughter for being a stain on the bloodline (even though she's the one who thought it was a good idea to fuck a pitbull) so Aji grew up being on countless medications and unapproved trials to promote fur growth, and was often shaved down to at least look even, as well as forced to cover up with clothing. She moved out from home as a teen and has since cut all contact with her mother, and does the exact opposite: loves revealing clothes, out of pure spite. She hates her body, and knows she's ugly, but goddammit she's gonna make it everyone else's problem.

While she lives near the black market and regularily eats meat, she's never killed anyone and doesn't plan to - she doesn't have the instincts so there's really no point, meat is much easier bought. She couldn't care less about other people's crimes though. She prefers to not make a scene, but if anyone else wants to go on a killing spree, that's their business. She really doesn't give a shit.

As far as the roleplay I'm in with her goes, we're currently about 38000 words in and still on day one, so it's definitely going very well!! Basically, Ajima and Melon first meet at the tattoo parlor when he's getting another leaf added to the collection. Aji just hears the screams and goes over to see what the fuck is going on, and they see each other and promptly begin to verbally tear each other down. Except they both kind of see it as fairly enjoyable banter, because they can both dish out equally well and don't actually get their feelings hurt that quickly. They both chose equal amounts of violence that day and in a really weird way it's compatible.

Fast forward a couple days and they run into each other by pure chance while out and about, and against better judgement somehow wind up hanging out for a bit. It's fun for half an hour or so. Then people start dying because Melon is still Melon. Ajima almost gets murdered when he's had enough of socializing, but instead of running like a normal person she follows Melon to his job and becomes a therapy dog for a day. An elephant also dies. Somehow they consider this bonding. He also certainly does not hate her job.

Basically, it's realistic levels of fucked up because writing him out of character would just be boring. But they're gonna end up together at some point. Probably. No one is getting magically healed through the power of love though. We die like men.

#we lovingly refer to Aji as Melon's emotional support dog #the relationship hasn't developed very far yet but i love them so much #in my head it's all planned out in sixty different ways lmao #also for the record i held back here a LOT i could write a whole essay about my baby #i have a million more ocs too #but ajima is my favorite for this fandom #i got tired of pretty ocs with snatched waists so i just thought 'what's the ugliest i can come up with'#and this is the result #beastars #beastars oc #ajima chiba

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drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio - P.7

masterlist (catch up with the series here!)

request guidelines (yes i am taking them!)

pairing: draco x reader

request: no! this is my original idea

summary: american high school senior is in for a surprise when her family takes on a foreign exchange student with a mysterious past.

warnings: teen drinking, mentions of an armed robbery, language, a brief hospital visit, and descriptions of illness

a/n: hey. so. this is definitely where stuff starts to go down. thanks so much for waiting...i have so many more things planned for this series and i’m thrilled to see it come together the way that it is right now. thank you very much for reading and thank you for your patience!

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 6k

song recs:

murders - miracle musical

pink in the night - mitski

always, forever - cults

ice dance - ashton gleckman

enjoy!

Y/N should’ve felt cold when she awoke on the wet pavement. Despite a figure looming over her and blocking out most of the rain, the back of her neck and body was drenched in the cool water from the puddle to her right. It was easily in the mid 40s at this point in the evening, something that would ordinarily make her toes curl and her figure tremble, but it felt...different.

She felt like her insides had been scorched, like she’d downed an entire pitcher of boiling hot water. Every movement she made hurt--right down to wiggling her fingertips and her eyes. Her body was exhausted. If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought that she’d just finished running a marathon in hell.

“Can you hear me?” A posh British voice cut through her musings as the figure above her came into focus.

Draco.

“Yeah. Was there a fire?” Her words left her throat painfully, scratching their way up her vocal chords.

“Er...what do you remember?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The memories of the night slowly began trickling back--she’d done Draco’s tie, told him to watch his drink, argued with Chad about how funny he was, and walked to...Oh, yeah. The antique store. The box. The stars inside of her.

She flinched. “I fainted. I’m sorry. That was really stupid of me.”

“What?” Draco shifted back, the light from the front of the antique store catching his face. There were lines in his forehead that she’d never seen before. “Why?”

“I didn’t eat enough today,” said Y/N. Speaking was starting to feel less and less like lighting her trachea on fire. “I was really nervous and I lost my appetite. I’m an easy fainter.”

He cleared his throat. “Er, okay. Yeah. That was it. Anyways, we have to get home. You need to, uh, eat.”

“Okay.”

Y/N allowed herself to be hauled up onto her feet, swaying slightly once her full weight was on her feet. Her sense of gravity felt like it had been loosened. With every step, she felt pulled to the ground from a different part of her core.

“Steady. Don’t fall.” By some miracle, once Draco’s hands were gently guiding her shoulders, she was able to make her way to the backseat of Heather’s car before she collapsed.

“Where are we going?” asked Y/N. Despite no longer feeling like she was near death, her head was still cloudy.

“Home,” was all Draco said as he slid in on the other side of the car.

She didn’t bother putting on her seatbelt--she still felt like she was about to keel over--and rested her head on the car window. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Draco open the passenger car door for a moment, pause, shut it, and instead tug open the door across from her and slide in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My insides feel like they’re on fire.” Y/N winced as she tried to shift and get the weight off of her neck. “I think I’m sick.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” said Heather from the front, her eyes catching Y/N’s from the mirror. “You were just laying down in the middle of a rainstorm. Go home and take some Zi-cam or something, jesus.”

Y/N tried to chuckle in response, but it came out as a sorry squeak instead. No one made a move to further comment on the evening’s events as Heather pulled onto the freeway and began to gain speed. The sudden lurches and changes of speed in the car set Y/N’s stomach into a churning frenzy, her head growing light again.

“Draco.”

Her voice was so soft it was hardly audible--the syllables jumbled together on her lips in a quiet mess--but he immediately snapped to attention.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“For the love of god, at least try and hold it until we get off the freeway.”

“Shut up, Heather,” said Draco. Y/N couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of satisfaction as he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back on her. “Is it the motion? Are you sick from that?”

“I don’t know,” she managed.

He sighed. “Helpful.”

“Dick.”

Draco frowned at her, but she could see the slightest twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Can you move into the middle seat for me? Do you need help?”

Once Y/N had scooted over from her side, he leaned away from her and pointed up to the sunroof above them. “Go ahead and count all the lights that you can see in the sky. I promise it’ll make you feel better. Just keep your head pointed up.”

She tilted her head back. The night sky was largely gloomy, but the flickering lights of the planes that dove in and out of clouds provided some glowing dots. As she counted, Heather hit the fog strips and nearly threw her back into her original seat. She felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist and gently grip, the long fingers completely encircling it.

Y/N blinked. The nausea was gone. “What are you, a sorcerer or something?” she joked, not expecting to see Draco so frozen at the comment. “Kidding. I just feel better already. Thank you.”

He nodded and turned away to look out the window. His soft grip on her hand was long gone, and Y/N took Heather’s slightly uncoordinated driving as a cue to slide back into her seat and buckle up.

“If you really need to puke,” said Heather, “I have a Target bag back somewhere under the passenger seat. Please avoid the seats. They’re authentic vegan leather.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Just don’t throw up, okay?”

Y/N was in Art History when it happened. The chills began, so intense and teeth-chattering that her teacher took one look at her and sent her immediately to the nurse. Sylvia offered to walk her, but she was only allowed to under the condition that she avoid all physical contact with her and sanitized each surface that Y/N touched. It was a wonder she made it to the first floor office--each step felt heavier than the last, and from the beginning she felt moments from simply passing out.

A temperature check revealed that she had a mild fever--100.3 F, to be exact--and a call home resulted in her mother’s full voicemail box and the remembrance that her parents were out for the week.

“Can someone else drive you?” Nurse Hazelwood asked as she stepped away to douse her hands in hand sanitizer. “I don’t think you should get yourself home in this state.”

After some deliberation, it was decided that Sylvia would take her home and call someone for a ride back. It was a bit overkill--but she didn’t know what else to do.

“And can you make sure Draco has a ride home today?” Y/N asked as they pulled into the driveway of the Y/L/N home.

“Stop stressing so much, dude.” Sylvia took the keys out of the ignition to give her an expectant look. “You’re sick. Go inside and make some soup or something. I’m sure your boyfriend will figure it out.”

“Now I really am gonna be sick,” said Y/N as she rolled her eyes.

The rest of her afternoon was a blur. Y/N tried to force down some chicken soup, but it took all her might to keep it from coming right back up. It was safe to say her appetite was gone.

After a failed attempt at walking up the stairs to crawl into bed, she collapsed onto the couch. The last thing she remembered was the sound of footsteps outside the front door.

Y/N hadn’t been to the hospital since she had to get stitches in middle school. Then, all she did was lie back in the chair and try to shut her eyes as the needle wove in and out of her torn thigh (bad bike accident, in case anyone was curious). But now was different.

Her eyes hurt to open, like someone had thrown soap in them and the very line where her two lids met were lined with knives. Everything inside of her was on fire--a manic, all-consuming fire that made it impossible for her to keep anything down.

The nurses and doctors were no help--not like Y/N actually had her eyes long enough to see any of them--but their voices were enough to let her know what was going on.

“Fever of 104--”

“Can’t keep anything down--”

“Severely dehydrated--”

“Tested negative for everything we tried--”

“Never seen anything like this before--”

“No viruses were detected--”

“Not mono--”

As she wove in and out of consciousness, one fact stuck in her mind: I think I might die here. Something is very wrong.

When she did dream, images of the box she picked up plagued her mind. The symbol, etched lightly into the black top, glowed menacingly in her hands. Open it, open it something around her urged, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t.

It was during one of these dreams that her world suddenly shifted back to her hospital room. She was suspended above her body, looking down at the tangle of IVs and various other wires that imprisoned her...but she wasn’t alone.

The dim lighting and darkness outside confirmed her suspicion that it was indeed late at night. A figure, tall and slim, was sitting to her left. It was whispering something unintelligible as it gently took her hand and squeezed.

If Y/N could scream, she would’ve. The sudden pull back to her body was so strong that she was yanked across the room so she just barely hovered over her corporeal form. She could feel a grip, steady and firm, wrapped around her hand as a rush of cool ran through her. Each breath, each pulse, each heartbeat pulled her back to herself. It felt like a bucket of water had been poured over--into--her, extinguishing the flames that were eating away the inside of her.

The figure’s whispering finally came to an end as she settled back into her physical body. Before she drifted off to a peaceful slumber, a familiar voice rose above the quiet whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N!”

Her eyes shot open to see her mother, heavy eye bags and all, standing over her bed. “Hi Mo-”

“You scared me half to death!” Mrs. Y/L/N interrupted, placing her hand on her forehead. “No fever. Thank god. You know, when you were a baby, you were horribly ill with…”

Y/N sat and pretended she was listening as she relinquished in the fact that she was awake, she was here. The fire inside of her was long gone, replaced with the familiar...whatever was there before. Nothing? Maybe. Nothing was good, or at least better than the painful fire. It struck her with a sudden urgency that she had no idea what day it was, much less time. What about her homework? What about her UChicago application? Her counselor was supposed to submit her letter of rec a week ago...or a week ago from whenever she was brought to the hospital.

“Honey, are you even listening?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said.

“That’s what I thought. The food here is horrendous--of course you’re excited to go home.” Mrs. Y/L/N took her glasses off to wipe at the lens in a gesture that seemed more habitual and less effective. “You poor thing. Your father is still in New York--John simply couldn’t have him leave--but he’ll be back as soon as he can. Let’s get you out of here.”

The next few hours were a strange blur of paperwork, changes of clothes, and a bag of medication. The nurses and doctors were bewildered at her miraculous recovery and expressed this at every chance they had on her way out, reminding her to immediately seek attention if she feels anything similar again.

“What day is it?” Y/N finally asked once they were on the way home.

“Wow, you really were out of it.” Mrs. Y/L/N flicked her blinker on as she merged onto the freeway. “Sunday. You were there almost a whole week.”

“Huh? What about school? Do my teachers know? How did Draco get to school? Is he ok?”

“Of course your teachers know, hun. They’re all being very forgiving with their late work policies. As long as you’re putting effort into learning the material you missed, they have no problem letting you skip out on the homework. As for Draco...I think he’s fine. Sylvia’s family took him under their wing for the week. He’s still alive.”

And such a statement was proven when Y/N walked through the front door. Draco shot up from his seat at the living room couch the moment they locked eyes, his hands wringing back and forth.

“You’re okay.”

“You’re okay too,” she responded airily. “When I wasn’t dying I was worrying myself about how you’d do without me. I see my fears of you walking into moving traffic didn’t come true, thank God.”

His lips, tight, offered her the slightest upturn.

“Y/N, dearie, no need to harass the boy,” her mother said. “Up to your room. I’ll bring you some soup in a moment. You need to rest, young lady.”

She sent one last teasing grin at Draco before she was ushered up the steps, her mother fussing over her the entire way.

“So,” Sylvia said, crossing her legs over the other and giving Y/N a wicked look, “Consider this your last formal invitation to my Halloween party. It’s this Friday. It’s not even the night before the ED deadline. You should go.”

“I don’t know, Vy,” said Y/N. Her art history notes lay untouched in front of her as the teacher droned on about something related to how mannerism as an art style came to fame during the...Reformation? She didn’t know. “I’m kind of tired. I feel bad about leaving Draco alone, too.”

“Dude.”

“What?”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Will you just do us all a favor and admit that you like him? It’s getting exhausting. Just ask him to come with you.”

“You’re absolutely off your rocker if you think I’m gonna do that,” Y/N said.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done weirder things. Like almost dying from...literally nothing.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be rude. I’ll think about it but no guarantees. I don’t really think Draco is the partying type, though.”

“I’d be careful about making such a wild assumption. You never know what goes on in those posh private British schools for rich kids or wherever he went.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Her friend laughed. “No. Just an optimist.”

Y/N swung the sleeve of her cardigan at her, whacking her pretty good on the bicep. If Sylvia was bothered by it, she didn’t show it. “Fine. I’ll ask him as a friend.”

“Pansy.”

Y/N was never the type to enjoy background noise as she worked, but there was something nostalgic about hearing the identical voices of her local news anchors in the room over as she sat at the kitchen table and worked on a last minute Physics review set.

“Hey loser,” she called out as she saw a head of blond hair pass by her to get to the kettle. “Care to join me?”

Draco turned, his mouth open and ready to issue a retort before he appeared to change his mind. He’d been oddly distant lately, avoiding her in the common spaces they often saw each other and choosing to get breakfast and his evening tea at times that he knew she wouldn’t be down in the kitchen for. Perhaps that was the reason why she was sitting at the kitchen table at present, but of course she’d never admit that. Not even to herself.

“Can’t. I’m a bit busy with work.”

“Draco,” she chided. “What work is it? I can help you, you know.”

He paused for a few seconds, taking in the scatter of papers on the table and the nearly complete review sheet. “The Physics review is taking me a bit of time,” he said, his tone forced and resigned.

“Go grab it!” She grinned as his scowl deepened. “If you’re nice I’ll let you copy.”

She lost track of time as they went over his work, his pencil marks filling the page with symbols that were unfamiliar to her.

“Your handwriting is really nice,” she noted. “Like, so nice that I feel like you could really make it as a study youtuber or a study blogger or whatever. You have that potential if you want to tap into it, dude.”

“I have no idea what that is,” he said neatly as he punched an equation into her calculator.

“Fair.”

She sat still for a few more moments, watching as her study partner’s chest rose and fell with each breath he took. Sylvia’s Halloween party was just a few days away, and she needed to ask him at some point. Every time she mustered up the courage to open her mouth and hitch her breath, the words would die on her tongue.

The silence weighed heavy in the air as the words of the news anchors floated over…”multiple reports of an armed robbery….suburbs surrounding Cincinnati...cautioned to lock doors...potential link to the missing persons case…”

“Draco,” she said finally. He jolted up from his work to gaze at her. His eyes were probably the prettiest things she’d ever seen--all pale and metallic and silvery. “Uh, I’m going to this Halloween party this Friday. You should come with me, it sounds like it’ll be fun. I think that Heather will be there.”

Y/N mentally groaned at her admission to Heather’s attendance but didn’t know what else to say. She wanted him to come--even if it was so he could spend the whole time being woo-ed over by her.

“Er,” he began, twirling his pencil around his fingers. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Homework, you know.”

“Just finish it before--That’s what I’m doing.”

“I think I’m go--”

The slam of the front door made both of them jump, scattering Y/N’s long forgotten work and threatening to knock Draco’s mug over.

“Hi kids,” Mrs. Y/L/N greeted as she entered the kitchen, an armful of grocery bags in tow. “Studying?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered. “By the way, Mom, Sylvia invited me over to her house on Friday for a sort of Halloween get together. Can I go?”

Her mother was silent for a few moments as she methodically unpacked the paper bags on the counter.

“I don’t see why not. Is Draco coming too?”

“No,” he replied before Y/N even had the chance to open her mouth.

“I don’t think you should be home alone at night, my dear,” said her mother. “Have you seen the news? There’s someone on the loose. I’d feel much better if you were with Y/N--Robert and I are going to an auction that night. We won’t be around.”

“I’ll be fi--”

“If Y/N is going, you’re going,” Mrs. Y/L/N said as she finished unloading and brushed her hands off on her thighs. Her no nonsense demeanor rarely showed itself, but when it did, she was difficult to argue with.

Y/N shrunk down in her seat as Draco sent her a sour look.

Sorry she mouthed. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Remind me again why we’re walking?”

Draco’s snotty tone carried through the crisp fall air as they neared the street that Sylvia lived on.

“Because,” said Y/N, “Quite frankly, I don’t think I can get through being in an enclosed space with Heather for an entire night without being at least a little buzzed. And I’m not gonna have you drive us home.”

“Hmph.” His dress shoes, odd pointed tips and all, kicked at the fall leaves below them. His costume was literally nothing different than what he wore when he arrived--a crisp white dress shirt, an oddly cut blazer, and a weird looking green and silver pin attached to his lapel.

“If anyone asks,” she had told him from the hallway as they were getting ready to go that afternoon, “Just say you’re a corporate rat or something.”

He’d snorted at her choice of clothing--a completely dark brown set up with a picture of a shoe taped to her chest.

“I’m the shoe that that Iraqi reporter threw at Bush,” she had explained.

He just stared.

“If you aren’t having fun, please just let me know,” Y/N said as they turned one of the last corners. “We can tell her our fish died or something. Sylvia would totally understand.”

“We don’t have a fish.”

“I know, genius,” she teased, giving him a little punch. Instead of balking, he just crinkled his nose. “But she doesn’t.”

“I think she does.”

“You’re missing the point. You’ll tell me if you want to go back home, promise?”

“I want to go home.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

He grinned as they waited for Sylvia to open the door.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. Y/N didn’t drink much at first--maybe the equivalent of 2 or 3 shots, spaced out in between a couple of sips of water--but the energy in Sylvia’s home definitely had her more buzzed than usual. There was something about her home that always felt twice as spooky, a type of underlying energy that pulsed at the seams.

To her surprise, Draco actually took a cup of whatever Sylvia offered him and downed it. She laughed when she saw him finally lower the cup as he furrowed his brow at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His features looked softer in the dim lighting of Sylvia’s living room--all the tension that he carried in his shoulders and face seemed to be gone. When he smiled at her, it was all she could do to keep herself from disintegrating into the couch.

As the night wore on, Y/N felt herself getting progressively more tipsy, and, in her haze, she could see that Draco was going down a similar path. He was touchier than she would have expected--hanging onto her elbow or sleeve whenever Sylvia or Y/N said anything funny, not moving his leg when her thigh was pressed against his, stretching his arm out behind her and resting it on the back of the couch--and she found herself wishing she was sober enough for it to feel real. Maybe she was so drunk that she was imagining it all. Maybe she was actually asleep next to her toilet at home after throwing it all up and was just dreaming.

“Fuck!” Someone exclaimed, prompting her to look up. Abby, a girl she kind of knew from her grade, had spilled the entirety of her drink on the coffee table.

“Y/N,” Sylvia whined, “I’m too tired to get the paper towels. Will you and Draco go?”

Despite the half-hearted protests from Draco, she managed to haul him up by his arm as she pushed back the pleasure that Sylvia saw them as a sort of team, a sort of unit.

“I think she keeps the extra paper towels in her pantry,” she told him as they made their way over to the quiet part of the house. The light hanging over the kitchen island was on, but the rest of the room was bathed in darkness.

“Right he--”

Y/N froze as she saw it--or, as she would come to discover, them.

Heather and Chad stared back at them, looking much more disheveled than one is permitted simply sitting on the kitchen counter. It was hard to make it out clearly, but Heather’s cheeks looked flushed. Chad’s matched.

“In a fucking kitchen? Chad, I thought you were better than this,” Y/N said, turning and grabbing the paper towels from the cabinet behind them. “Get a room, you weirdos.”

Chad laughed, a short lived and awkward sound.

Once they were back out in the living room, Y/N tossed the paper towels to Sylvia. “I think we’re gonna head back. We have to walk, you know.”

Sylvia dramatically threw herself back onto the couch. “I suppose. Thanks for coming guys, it was nice to see you outside of class again.”

“Likewise!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out of the door with Draco by her side.

The walk home was silent for the first few moments. Despite the fact that it was late October, the night was pleasantly crisp and not too cold. The only sources of illumination were the scattered street lights, casting a soft orange hue on the two.

As they turn the corner onto the main street, Y/N’s shoe caught on a crack in the pavement in a movement that would’ve sent her sprawling face-first into the cold concrete if it hadn’t been for Draco’s hand grabbing her own and yanking her back up.

“Thanks,” she said. His hands were warmer than usual despite the coolness of the air.

He just sent her a small smile as he untangled their fingers and placed his hand back into his pants pockets.

“Weird to see Chad and Heather, right?” Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. To her surprise, he nudged back.

“I guess. I thought it was obvious, though.”

“What?! No way.”

“Are you blind? Heather’s been all over Chad,” he said.

“Are you? I thought she was obsessed with you!”

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, turning to look at him. The dim glow of the streetlights made his hair look almost like a halo. “She wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Dunno.” Draco shrugged. It was then that Y/N remembered how much he’d had that night.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably not in the right mindset to be analyzing other people right now,” said Y/N.

His lips twitched upwards. “No, no, it’s ok. I’m fine. I just couldn’t be bothered over the whole ordeal. Entirely uninspiring, I think.”

“You’re such a nerd, even when you’re drunk,” teased Y/N. “It’s honestly a wonder that you spent the first month near failing physics.”

“Sod off.” He nudged her again, hard enough to make her sway. “You’re the one who’s still an insufferable smartass. I figured drinking would make you more tolerable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” she muttered as she shoved him back. “You know you love me.”

He froze in the middle of his retaliatory shove, his hand rested on her forearm.

“Sarcasm, king,” said Y/N. “I don’t mean it. I wouldn’t blame you if I were right, though. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m quite the commodity.”

“Oh, yes, most certainly.” His tone was dripping in faux genuity as he gave her a gentle push.

As he was doing this, Y/N grabbed the offending arm and took him down with her, landing in the soft garden bush in poor Ms. McCoyle’s front yard.

“Gotcha!” she cheered as he frowned from his spot on top of her. It took all her might to ignore the fact that his face was inches away. “It’s just my smart physics brain at work.”

“Your neighbor is gonna kill us.”

“She can try.”

Draco sat up, grabbing her hand and hauling her to her feet. She took the opportunity to hang onto the sleeve of his coat as a sneaking suspicion overtook her that things wouldn’t be like this again without the clever excuse of intoxication.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Y/N let go of his sleeve to look up at his face in confusion. She followed his eyes, suddenly hardened with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, to their house at the end of the street.

“You shut the door behind us, right?” Draco asked.

“And locked it.”

Their front door, hanging wide open and swinging in the breeze, told a different story.

Sobering up was easy once the police sirens showed up and searched their house. Y/N could tell the responding sheriff knew they’d been drinking, but since they weren’t driving and were speaking clearly, he didn’t mention anything.

“We’ve searched the house,” he told them as they sat together outside on the curb. “It looks like it fits the profile of the other armed burglaries in the area, but nothing was taken this time. The bedroom that looks out into the garden is completely trashed--it seems like the suspect was looking through your things for something. The bedroom across the hall was displaced a bit, but nothing compared to the first.” He took another look at his notes, adjusting the thick rimmed glasses that were perched on his nose. “You kids are lucky. Whoever this is means business. There’s unfortunately not much we can do except set up a patrol to watch over the street for now. Please give us a call if you see anything or hear anything.”

They nodded. Y/N had placed a call to their parents while they waited a safe distance from the home for the police to arrive. She’d been shaking as she pressed their number into her phone, and Draco, to his credit, rested his hand on her thigh.

“We’ll be fine,” he’d said before retracting it. “Don’t worry.”

Draco seemed considerably calm for someone experiencing a home break in in a foreign country as they made their way into the house. The first responders had left the lights on, and the wash of LED bulbs did nothing to hide the disturbance of her bedroom. Everything of hers was thrown into the middle of the room from her drawers, closet, and dresser. Her laptop, open and plugged in, was left completely untouched.

“Draco,” she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends, what is it?”

Y/N noted that he was getting considerably paler as they stood in her doorway. “I don’t think I can sleep here. Knowing what happened. Especially when it’s still a disaster.”

“Understandable.”

His features looked hardened again, like he’d gone through a filter of seriousness. She decided that this was probably her last chance to ask for any act of intimacy before the effects of alcohol dissipated in his system. “And I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Er...Oh.” He stared at her. “What?”

“I know that this is really awkward, but can I, like, sleep on your floor or something? Just for tonight.” When she swallowed her throat felt painfully dry. “I don’t snore or anything. It’ll be like I’m not even there.”

Draco sucked in a long breath, casting his eyes up to the ceiling. Y/N wished she knew what he was thinking about. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Thank you thank you thank you,” she sang, darting into her room to grab a blanket and a pillow as he watched wordlessly by the doorframe.

The walk to his room was dead silent except for their sounds of shock when they saw the broken glass in the middle of the floor.

“I think that was from the picture frame,” Y/N said as she carefully walked into the middle of the room. Sure enough, a framed photo of her and their late dog that had been left on the wall was face down on the carpet.

“Is this when you ask me to sleep in my bed, too?” quipped Draco as he sidestepped the wreckage and sat on the opposite side of the queen mattress.

“Um...we can make a pillow barrier so we don’t touch.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed his blazer over his chair as he took off his shoes and buttonup, leaving nothing but his undershirt and dress pants. “I’m going to get changed. If you’re asleep before I get back, this is me saying goodnight.”

With that, he grabbed something from his dresser and walked into his bathroom, Y/N ripped off the picture of the shoe and placed her phone on the bedside table. Before she knew it, she was completely passed out.

It was barely dawn when she next woke up. Her head was heavy--no doubt the beginnings of a hangover--but she’d never felt more electrified.

A small huff prompted her to look to her left where Draco was just a few movements away from her. He was very clearly still sleeping, each breath leaving his lips with a whisper. His hand, draped over the covers, was millimeters away from touching her. The pink of the sunrise made his hair, now ruffled and sticking up in the side, glitter in the light. She resisted the urge to reach out and brush it away from his face.

Y/N lay there, admiring the boy sleeping next to her, until the urgency of her situation struck her. She was absolutely parched, and if she wanted to mitigate the damage she’d already done, it was in her best interest to drink a glass of water and take 4 Ibuprofen.

With a sigh, she quietly slid out from under Draco’s covers and made her way to her room, careful to avoid the glass scattered all about. She knew she had a packet of Ibuprofen somewhere in one of her dresser drawers.

The pile in her room was bigger than she remembered. She began by just throwing her clothes that had been on the ground onto her bed, sorting through everything in rough categories. When this proved unhelpful, she turned to the mini pile by her door which, to her surprise, had a few sweatshirts that definitely weren’t hers.

Draco she thought absentmindedly as she combed through the pile. Aha. A small green pouch, just like the one she kept her over the counter medications in.

Her hands struggled to undo the tie--Did she normally knot it like that?--as she admired the lining. She never noticed that the edges had silver thread stitched in.

Once she finally opened it up, she grabbed her water bottle and prepared to be faced with a variety of pill bottles as she tipped it over; however, what came out was very different.

A collection of letters. Namely, Draco’s. She knew it was wrong, but he was sleeping, and every letter looked official, stamped with a seal and etched with some sort of crest. They couldn’t have been that personal.

After a bit of bargaining, she decided to open one. If it was personal, she made the deal with herself to put it away and never speak of it again.

The parchment was heavy and clearly expensive. Her hands were shaking as she unfolded the first one, feeling guilty the whole way.

Foreign words flooded her vision. It wasn’t like the letter was written in a foreign language--but there were so many terms she didn’t understand.

Death eater...Voldemort...Crimes against the ministry...Conspiracy against Dumbledore...Hogwarts-sanctioned punishment...

She read on until a word popped out that made sense--Magic. And there it was again--Magic. Wizard. Magic.

Swallowing hard, she shoved the letter back into the envelope and opened one more. This one was much more coherent.

“Dear Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy:

It has been made apparent to us that, while serving the punishment of your accused crimes, you have unlawfully used magic (namely, a Glamour spell) in front of a muggle. Consider this to be your first strong warning. One more slip up and the Ministry will be forced to reconsider your dropped sentence of Azkaban.

Sincerely and warmly,

The Ministry of Magic -- Justice Sector”

What. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Her racing mind was put to a screeching halt at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

ssa hotchner: chapter 1 - the blazer

TW: harrassment, talk about a case

WC : 5,920

series masterlist

-----------------------------------

"aaron! hey," you answered the phone after hitting enter on the final file you had to upload to the computer.

"y/n! how are you?" your brother questioned kindly.

"um, i've been better," you started, trying to figure out how to tell him the bad news.

"what happened?" aaron asked as he finished filling out the final file he had before noon. "is it about that promotion?" he rolled his eyes, recalling the events of last time you were up for a promotion.

"yea... it is," you sorrowfully revealed. "i uh... i didn't get it. again," you sighed out as you closed your laptop and put it in your bag. "can you... what are you doing for lunch?"

"well the team and i were gonna go out to a local thai place right around the corner from the bau, you could join if you'd like," he replied, wanting to be there for his sister any chance he could. "you know how much they love you."

"i just don't really think my mood is relative to that of a person who's going out with a crowd of people, y'know?" you placed the device in your bag and closed it, pulling it over your shoulder after grabbing your keys from the bag. "besides, i haven't met all of your team yet. dr. reid wasn't there the last time i saw you at my birthday because he was visiting his mother, remember?" you brought up, hoping he wouldn't feel too bad for you.

"y/n, just come to lunch with us. the last case went well, and everyone's pretty excited about that. maybe that'll help put you in a better mood?" aaron suggested as he gathered his things to go out for lunch. "and reid will actually be there this time so you'll be able to meet him," arron smiled at the thought of you meeting the young genius.

"are you sure? i really don't want to impose on your post-case celebrations, aaron," you rebutted as you walked out of the doors of the office you've been working at for nearly 8 years.

"i'm positive. everyone would love to see you again," emily walked into the office, noticing the smile he was wearing that he only has when he's talking to you.

"is that y/n?" emily questioned with a bright smile as hotch nodded. "tell her i said hi! and that i really miss her! oh wait are you talking her into coming to lunch with us?" her eyes widened at the possibility of seeing you again.

"yea, i'm trying to get her to realize that she won't be imposing on us if she comes," the dark haired man sighed.

"here, give me the phone. you know she can't resist my charm," emily teased, you laughed from hearing the remark over the phone as hotch handed it to her. "y/n hotchner. you are going to go to lunch with us whether you like it or not," emily demanded with a smirk.

"oh, yes. there's that charm i know and love, em," you giggled as you put your keys in the ignition, realization setting in that you should probably just go to lunch with them since you have no other plans and are already in your car. "fine. i'll go. should i meet you there or at the office?"

"just meet us there. we're like five minutes away and with morgan's driving it'll be cut in half," emily scolded.

"okay. i'm on my way now. should be maybe 10 minutes," you announced. "i'll see you guys there," you said before hanging up the phone and beginning to drive.

you had been working at a law firm near the bau for nearly 8 years. in fact, next week would make it officially 8 years. the office was run by a few men, under the US district attorney, who you've come to find out are misogynistic pricks who don't like putting women in positions of authority.

you got hired on about 5 months out of law school, columbia law school to be exact. you have an associates in business and a masters criminology, law, psychology. your original dream was to work at the bau with your big brother, clearly, but those dreams changed since you graduated from columbia.

you pulled into the parking lot of 'thailand eatery,' a bau team favorite, and noticed aaron's car parked in the far corner. you smiled to yourself as you found a spot beside him and got out to make your way inside.

"hi, i'm here with aaron hotchner for lunch," you sweetly announced to the hostess before she nodded.

"right this way, ma'am," you followed her to the table full of fbi agents, noticing their laughter that erupted for some unknown reason.

one seat was open next to aaron and emily. you placed your blazer on your seat and a hand on both of their shoulders to announce your arrival. they looked at you in surprise before realizing who you were, big smiles crossing their faces.

"y/n!" arron excitedly announced before standing to give you a nice bear hug. "it's so good to see you," he whispered in your ear kindly.

"i know. it's been a while since we've been able to do this," you grinned widely as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

"okay, okay..." emily interrupted. "this is sweet and all, but i haven't been able to see you since your birthday last year," she announced before you traded your brother's arms for hers.

"it's good to see you, em" you laughed as she squeezed you tightly.

"where the hell have you been! i've missed you," she pouted as you both unwrapped your arms from each other.

"y'know, working for the usual pricks i do... and that's pretty much it," you shrugged as you made your way around the table to hug penelope.

"what have they been doing to you this time, my little sugar plum?" penelope asked sweetly as you gave her another hug.

"the usual, pen. just the usual," you sighed into her ear as you began to hug derek. "but let's not get into that know, yea? i heard you guys had a successful case the other day! that's exciting!" you announced as derek wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and swinging you around a bit.

if you're honest, derek is like a second big brother to you. he was there for you when your brother got stabbed in his own home and was in a coma. he comforted you in your home when you were sobbing on the floor because it wasn't safe for you to visit your own flesh and blood.

"hell yea it was," derek smiled into your ear before placing you down and giving you a chaste peck on the cheek. "but if i need to kick some ass at that work place of yours i won't even hesitate," he whispered into your ear as he rose from your cheek.

"now, now, derek," you tapped his chest playfully. "i don't need you kicking my bosses down like you would a door, as exhilarating as that sounds," you chuckled aimlessly.

"bella, care to indulge me in what they're doing at that office of yours?" rossi said as you made your way to hug him.

"it's not that big of a deal, dave. i'm sure i'm just overreacting again," you sighed as you released him from his hug.

"not a big deal?" aaron butted in. "y/n, you deserved that promotion and they looked you over, yet again," he sassed. "i don't think that's overreacting," he rolled his eyes.

"i know i deserved it, but..." you sighed, weighing all the possibilities. "actually there's no buts. i've worked there for 8 years and have gotten two promotions. i guess i'm just really disappointed," you reasoned, trying not to start crying from the anger bubbling up inside of you.

"two promotions in eight years?" rossi questioned, noticing the annoyed look on your face at the thought. "do those assclowns not realize what an amazing worker you are?" david asked in disbelief.

"i don't know... i guess?" you questioned. "i just don't want to think about that right now," you said as you hugged jj in return.

"are you kidding? we've been to a few of your cases," the blond added. "you're amazing, y/n." jj complimented. "rossi's right. they must be absolutely blind if they don't see what a great worker you are."

"thank you, jayge," you smiled at her before realizing there was one more person at the table.

you'd seen him in pictures, and had heard enough about him to remember a few key points. he's a genius with three phd's, three ba's, he has a thing with germs, he's a bit awkward, and absolutely handsome. the pictures you've seen didn't do him justice.

"i'm assuming you're the famous dr. spencer reid?" you asked, not bothering to reach for a hug or handshake.

"i uhm, yes i am. dr. sp-spencer reid. or you can call me spen-spencer," he cleared his throught. "or reid, or basically whatever you'd uh- whatever you'd prefer," he stuttered out, sitting awkwardly in his chair and barely maintaining eye contact.

"how about we just go with spencer?" you asked as you made your way to your seat beside your brother. "my name's-"

"y/n hotchner, yes," he smiled at you as your brother pushed your chair in for you, you muttering a small 'thank you' in return. "i've uhm... i've heard a lot about you," he stammered.

"oh dear, let me go ahead and apologize in that case," you joked, eliciting laughter from your friends at the table.

"actually, there's uhm - there's no need to apologize. everything i heard was," he sniffled, "really good. it was all good," his lips formed into a line as he nodded at his own words.

"well then i guess i have to mention how great everyone's made you out to be. i mean, a three phds and three ba's at only, what? 34? that's beyond incredible, spencer," you complimented the gorgeous man sitting beside your brother.

"oh uhm, th-thank you, y/n," he blushed. cute.

"it's no problem at all. i mean it's not everyday that you meet a genius that's as young and handsome as you are," you laughed, taking a sip of the water that your brother had ordered for you before you arrived, not even realizing the compliment you had payed to his looks. shit. now you realized. you cleared your thought before acting like you didn't even say anything.

"oh! uhm, th-thank you, again. you're uhm - you're very - you too. not that you're handsome, but that you're very..." he trailed off, biting his lower lip to refrain from humiliating himself even more.

"well then, pretty boy, you sure do have a way with words," morgan teased, eliciting a jab in the stomach from penelope.

"derek morgan, if you do not shut up," penelope scowled.

meanwhile, you turned your head to notice your brother staring oddly at 'pretty boy' who was looking sheepishly at you. you nudged your brother's arm playfully, capturing his attention.

"stare any harder at him and he might explode, aaron," you whispered in his ear, being sure not to look at spencer.

"maybe that needs to happen with the way he's looking at you, y/n," he rebutted.

it's true. if anyone else had been looking at you that way, arron probably would've mentioned that he's in the fbi and that he has more than two guns to scare them away. since it was spencer, everything was different.

"shush, it's just a little crush. what's the worst that could happen?" you rolled your eyes at his protectiveness. "he'll be over it by the end of lunch," you announced, not noticing the way aaron rolled his eyes at your assumption.

aaron had seen spencer around girls enough to know that when he got flustered around them it usually meant something more than just a little crush in spencer's mind. that also means that arron knows that spencer would never try to do anything with you because you're his sister.

"fine," he relished, not wanting to bother with the genius's sure infatuation with you when this is the first time he's gotten to see his own sister in a while. "so you wanted to talk to me about something?" he changed the subject.

"right," you twiddled with your thumbs and looked down into your lap. "ikindaputinmytwoweeksnoticeatthefirmoceifoundoutaboutthepromotion," you rambled out, casually taking a sip of your drink as if you didn't just say you quit your job of 8 years.

"you did what?" he asked in confusion, not understanding what you said.

"i put in my two weeks notice once i found out about the promotion," you slowed down so he could understand, his eyes going wide upon the understanding.

"that's... what you wanted to do, right?" he questioned, not wanting to give you the wrong reaction.

"yea, i think so," you started. "i was just so tired of getting looked over just because of my gender, y'know? i've had to prove myself in everything i've ever done. i think i've more than proved myself at the firm," you announced, still trying to find your own confidence.

:you have, y/n. you've more than proved yourself to be an amazing lawyer," he agreed. "sometimes i'm convinced you might work harder than we do," he scoffed.

"there's no way, a," you laughed at the ridiculous statement. "i've just put my all into the firm. all my time, attention, and hard work has gone into that place. the reason that place is where it is right now is because of me," you pouted.

"i remember. i brought the whole team to the case that put the firm on the map. even reid was there," he stated.

"spencer was at that case?" you asked, not remembering him saying hi afterwords.

"yea, he was. he just got pulled away because of troubles with his mom," you 'ohh'ed at the revelation. "but that case was the hardest one i've ever seen a lawyer handle, y/n."

"thank you," you smiled at the compliment.

"no, i mean it," he relished. "i don't even think i would've won that case. that's what brought everyone to the firm. it was a high profile case, one that the bau was on. of course there was going to be a big turnout. you handled the press, and the pressure amazingly."

it was a case the bau had worked on for nearly a week and a half, and they needed you to further convince the jury that who they caught was the right unsub because of the amount of circumstantial evidence. you were able to get the unsub flustered, and admit to his own crime on the stand with the press in the room.

it was possibly the best case you'd ever gotten because the amount of publicity you'd gotten. but with publicity there came quite a few complications that you hadn't told anyone about.

"that's just the big brother in you talking," you giggled, trying to brush the compliment off naturally.

"whatever you say, y/n. whatever you say," he brought his drink up to his mouth to take a sip.

"so, how was the last case you were on?" you asked, quite intrigued by all the cases he would tell you when he had the chance.

"well, how about we start from the beginning since you like hearing about them so much?" he asked with a grin, you nodded eagerly.

"so it started with the unsub taking abducting his victims..."

throughout the case, you found yourself starting to profiling the suspects yourself, something your brother noticed too. i mean, how could you not do that? you had a degree in psychology and criminology so it made since that profiling them would be natural for you.

everyone at the table interrupted at their parts in the story. when david and jj went to the m.e., when aaron, emily, and derek went to the crime scene, spencer and the geo profile. you were fascinated by their work and everything they were able to do.

when you were younger and your brother had first started at the bau, he really enjoyed calling you to tell you about them. he loved your reactions and how enthusiastic you would become when he was talking. that's really when you first started dreaming about being in the bau, with aaron.

"ugh, y'know i used to dream of going on cases with you guys," you admitted after they finished wrapping up the case in words, taking a sip of your drink to wash your food down.

"really?" spencer asked, not stammering while talking to you for the first time all afternoon.

"yea. aaron would always tell me about the cases when you got back, and i could practically just imagine myself working them with him and you guys," you relished, a smile on your face as you recalled the memories of your younger self.

"i think you'd do excellent on the team," spencer suggested. "it's clear that you already work well with everyone, plus you're more than qualified to work with us, other than the fact that you'd need to go through the fbi training."

"actually i've already been through it," you nonchalantly admitted with a shrug.

"you have?" he questioned as his eyebrows raised in shock. "why haven't you decided to work at the fbi then?" you shrugged at his question.

"i guess i just thought i wouldn't fit in enough?" you said, clearly realizing the contradiction to your earlier statement about imagining yourself on the team. "besides, i got a job at the firm as soon as i got out of the academy, so it all worked out fine."

"actually, reid, that's a good idea," aaron said as he turned his attention to you. "would you be interested in working at the bau with us?" he asked with a small grin, the thought of working with his sister already bringing a smile to his face.

"wh-don't-wouldn't you have to ask your boss about that? that's a big change, adding a new member to a team. you guys already work so well together..." you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse.

"strauss?" derek asked in feigned disbelief. "she loves you, kid. which is kind of odd since it seems as though she doesn't like hotch as much," derek chuckled.

"oh my god! imagine it, y/n!" penny yelled in excitement. "you could see us everyday, and you wouldn't have to deal with those buttmunches you work for!" she announced.

"used to work for, two weeks from now," you laughed. "and it sounds amazing, but aaron already works there. i'm sure that's enough hotchner's for you guys," you shrugged with a smile.

"that's nonsense!" emily disagreed. "two of my favorite people working with me?! an absolute dream, i tell you," she grinned.

"i guess if you talk to erin about it and she's alright with it..." you trailed off with a huff. "how could i say no?" you smiled.

"oh my gosh this is so exciting!" penny announced, jumping up and rushing arounf the table to hug you. "i'm so ready to work with you!"

"let's not get too beyond ourselves, pen," you giggled. "she hasn't approved my addition yet."

"come on, she's gonna approve it, y/n," dave commented.

"whatever you guys say," you laughed.

you all finished eating, and received the check for lunch of which david insisted on paying. you went up to him afterwards and insisted on paying your part of the bill, but he said it was 'his treat for this wondrous occasion.'

you reluctantly made your way back to your office, the lingering stares from your bosses not going unnoticed. you couldn't wait for those two weeks to be over and for you to be able to leave that hell hole behind, whether you got the job at the bau or not.

you sat down in your chair and reached for your blazer only to realize you must've left it back at the restaurant. great. there goes that 50 bucks.

"hey, sweetcheeks," ron, one of your bosses, commented upon his entrance to your office.

"how many times do i have to tell you not to call me that?" you rolled your eyes, finishing up on the transcript you would need for the case you had tomorrow.

"oh, come on. you know you love it," he said, walking further into your office and sitting on the corner of your desk, ignoring the two chairs that remained across from you. you closed your computer and looked into his eyes, shooting daggers at him with your own.

"what do you want?" you spat at him, wanting to get him out of your hair as soon as possible.

"well, you won't be an employee in two weeks," he announced as if you hadn't already known.

"i'm well aware," you sassed back, trying not to slap him across the face at the fact that he was no longer looking at your eyes, rather further south from them. you snapped your fingers to bring his attention back to your face. "what. do. you. want?"

"well, honey pie, i was just wanting to take you out. y'know, after you're done here," he bit his lip, trying to be seductive but massively failing.

the terrible thing about this fool is, he doesn't know what the word 'no' means. he's always made passes at you, and commented on your appearance. it, of course, made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't really do anything about it. the hopes of getting a promotion was greater than your uncomfortability.

"i've seen the way you look at me, it's no secret," he said, getting off your desk and walking closer to you.

"you mean it's no secret that i find you absolutely repulsive?" you snapped. "shocker," you widened your eyes to feign surprise with your remark.

"are you serious?" he said, his 'seductive' smile now turning into a frown.

"are you serious?" you asked in disgust.

you placed your laptop in your bag, taking your keys out of the bag in the process and beginning to walk out of your office to avoid the man standing there. he grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him.

"don't walk away from me," he gritted, his face red with anger. his grip on your arm tightened, surely leaving a bruise in its wake.

"then don't fucking touch me," you said, attempting to yank your arm away from him, only failing to do so. "let go," you demanded.

"sorry, sweetcheeks, i didn't get that," he smirked. that fucker smirked at your struggle.

knock. knock. knock.

you turned to see whoever was at your door. it was none other than dr. spencer reid. holding your blazer in his hand. you furrowed your brows in confusion before ron decided to drop your arm.

"what the hell is going on?" spencer asked, his eyes not leaving ron's defensive stature as he placed the jacket on one of the chairs by your desk.

"nothing, right doll?" ron looked at you, a disgusting grin on his face.

"yea, right," you rolled your eyes.

spencer's eyes trailed back to you and your arm ron was once holding, right where the red mark is. you swore that if looks could kill, ron would've died the second spencer knocked on your door.

"then what's that on her arm?" he questioned, moving closer to you and pushing you behind him defensively. "you hurt her," he accused. you stepped to his side, noting the way he tried to take charge for you.

"spencer," you placed a hand on his arm, forgetting his thing about germs for a second in attempt to calm him down. "i can handle this," he turned to face you. "i've dealt with this asshole for nearly 8 years, isn't that right, ron?" you questioned with a sneaky grin.

"who the hell is this guy, sweetcheeks?" he questioned as if you had an obligation to tell him who he was.

"you don't get to know that. and you don't get to call me that, either," you reminded him, having to bite your lip to try not to explode on the guy.

"are you fucking this guy?" he accused you. you pushed spencer out of the way, and squinted your eyes at him in disbelief.

"you're seriously asking me that?" you asked. "if i was, it's still none of your fucking business, asshole!" you said getting closer to his face in order to make a point.

slap!

the asshole slapped you.

spencer quickly grabbed you and moved you out of the way before pushing the guy into the wall, knocking your fake plant over as well as a few books on the shelf on the wall. ron's face was smashed into the wall, one of his arms twisted behind his back as both were in spencer's grasp.

"don't you dare touch her. ever again," he demanded, twisting his arm even further, ron squirming to get out of his grip. "did you hear me?"

your hand cupped the side of your face, the sting from ron's wedding band hurting more than you would've thought.

"ahh! yes! yes, i heard you!" he squealed.

"good. now you can apologize to her like a gentleman," he ordered, pushing his arm further up into his back to elicit another groan from the man, you had a hard time keeping a straight face from the scene in front of you.

"shit! ouch! okay! i'm sorry! i'm sorry!" he apologized in a high pitched tone, still trying to get out of spencer's grasp.

"good job," he released him from his grip, a sigh coming from ron at the freedom his arm received. "now go before i change my mind and cuff you right here," he ordered.

"cuff me?" he asked in disbelief. spencer pulled his fbi badge out, flashing it in ron's face, noticing the way his eyebrows shot up. "oh shit."

you moved your hand away from your face, looking at your hand and noticing the patch of blood that remained there. you wiped your cheek, trying to stop the blood flow.

"what did i just say?" spencer asked. "leave. now."

"right," ron said, walking back over towards the door, whispering to you on the way out. "don't bother coming to work tomorrow. or ever again."

"oh that'll be no problem, boss," you scoffed as he made his way out of the door, leaving you and spencer alone in your office.

"i'm uh, sorry about your plant," he pointed at the fake succulent that lay on the floor.

"it was fake anyway," you shrugged as you kneeled down to pick it up as spencer began picking the books up. "thank you, by the way," you smiled at the man.

"it's nothing, really," it was his turn to shrug. "hotch wouldn't have let me on the next case if i didn't intervene in whatever was going on."

oh. so that's why he helped you. of course it was. you were his superior's little sister, nothing else.

"so, what brings you here?" you asked as he offered you his hand to help you stand up, you gladly took it and rose to your feet. "oh sorry, you have a germ... my bad" you grimaced at the thought of making him uncomfortable.

"oh, don't worry about it. and i was actually here to bring you your blazer," he said, retrieving the jacket from the chair and giving it back to you. "i uhm, you forgot it at the restaurant."

"right, i noticed that once i got here. thank you," you thanked him, placing the jacket over your arm and picking up your bag. "you've already saved me twice today and we've only just met," you laughed.

"it seems that way," he smiled, walking with you out of the office. he gently grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him once you were outside. "your face is bleeding, y/n."

"oh," you reached your hand up to notice the way the blood was still lightly flowing. "oops," you laughed.

"you should clean it up, you don't need to get that infected," he suggested, his hand tracing the outskirts of ron's handprint on your face.

"thanks for the recommendation, doc," you laughed. "i think i have some stuff back at my place that i could use."

"i'm so sorry that happened," he frowned slightly, his hand dropping to his side.

"ehh," you shrugged. "i'm sure you've seen worse. besides, i can handle myself," you said as he began walking with you in the direction of your car.

"let me see your arm?" he asked softly.

you brought it up closer to his eyesight. he gently grasped your arm, nothing like the way he had done to ron earlier in your office. his touch left goosebumps on your skin, the soft way his fingers traced your arm.

"it's already bruising, so i think it's only a subcutaneous bruise, luckily," he diagnosed.

"i'll bet you could pass as a medical doctor if you tried," you noted, nudging his arm gently with yours.

"many people make that mistake already! it's a frequent misconception by a lot of people i meet," he smiled.

"if i hadn't already known what kind of doctor you were, i'm sure i might've fallen into that misconception," you added with a grin as you approached your car. "so, this is me," you smiled and nodded at the tall man.

"oh! right! uhm..." he trailed off. "it was nice to meet you, y/n," he smiled kindly.

his smile's nice. warm. very home-like.

"it was nice to meet you too," you smiled. "thank you, again. for saving me back there."

"of course. anytime. i'm just glad i got there before anything got too bad..." he furrowed his brows at the not so distant memory.

"yea, you and me both, handsome," you joked, noticing the way his cheeks blushed at the compliment. "so where are you parked? the least i could do is give you a ride to your car," you suggested.

"oh, i was actually on my way to the metro. driving isn't really my thing..." he grimaced.

"then how about i drive you home?" you asked, wanting to figure out how to thank the perfect man that stood before you.

"i-i don't want you to be going out of your way..." he shook his head.

"look, spencer, i won't force you to do anything, but i want to do this," you placed a hand on his forearm. "at least as a thank you."

"um..." he looked at his watch, noticing the time. "okay, i guess that'd be nice. besides, i've missed the last ride to where i need to go," he shrugged with a small grin.

"great! just tell me where to, doc," you said as you both got into your car.

"capital plaza apartments," he announced with a grin.

"sounds great," you said as you turned the key in the ignition, backing out of your parking spot and starting the way towards his apartment. "so, you've worked at the bau for 12 years? right?"

"yea. i started when i was 22," he announced.

"right, i remember aaron telling me how you were the youngest member of the team when you got there," you encouraged him to continue.

"right again. they actually had to make an exception to let me into the field," he laughed softly. "they had to waiver basically every physical exam on account of my mental capabilities."

"i mean, whatever works. it's so intriguing that at such a young age you know so much, and your knowledge is only expanding," you shook your head in disbelief.

"well you've accomplished quite a lot and you're only 30. working at a firm for 8 years and being as successful as you are is remarkable," he remarked.

"thank you, spencer," you looked over at the man and smiled before stopping at the red light.

"do you have any tissues?" he asked, you furrowed your brows in question. "your cheek is still bleeding," he informed you.

"oh! there right there in the glovebox," you pointed across his lap as he grabbed the tissue from the compartment and reached across the console himself.

you leaned in across the console yourself, trying to make it easier for him to wipe it off. he cautiously used it to dab the little blood remaining on your cheek off, his hand lingering for a while.

you looked up to meet his eyes, the red from the stoplight illuminating his facial structure in a way that was otherworldly. you were entranced by each others' gaze, not even noticing the light turned green until the car behind you honked their horn, alerting you to step on the gas.

"oh! sorry," you apologized, biting the inside of your lip as you continued to drive him back to his apartment.

"don't be," he swallowed the lump in his throat.

sooner than later, you pulled into his apartment complex to drop him off.

"thank you so much, again, spencer," you placed a hand on his upper arm to emphasize your thanks.

"you don't need to thank me, y/n. i was happy to help," he placed one of his much larger hands on top of yours, squeezing it gently before he made his way out of your car. "goodbye."

"goodbye, spencer," you returned as you watched him walk up to his apartment building, practically gawking at the man that saved you.

you drove back to your house quickly, entering the code for the gate. you noticed yet another piece of paper taped to the front of the gate. you ripped it off the metal, and placed it inside your bag.

upon entering you placed your bag on the hook that remained on your wall after retrieving the sheet of paper from it. you kicked your shoes off beside the door neatly, walking into your kitchen to pour yourself a small glass of wine before tending to your wound.

you walked into your bathroom and gazed at the handprint on your face, noticing the small gash that remained on your cheekbone. after washing your face, you used an antibiotic on the cut, placing a small bandage overtop.

walking into your bedroom, you admired the view from the large window as you changed into your pajamas. you were too tired to eat anything, but you knew you needed to get something into your system.

you walked back into your kitchen and found a granola bar you could eat quickly. you grabbed the sheet of paper and walked back into your living room as you continued to eat.

underneath your sofas, there are storage bins that you keep extra things inside. what also happens to be inside of that bin is a small, old shoebox. inside of that shoebox you placed the note, along with all the others you've received, not bothering to read it this time.

you made your way back into the bathroom, brushed your teeth, and returned to your bedroom.

it was a long day, very eventful. you could only hope the letters would stop if you got the job at the bau. but for now... sleep.

#ssa hotchner #y/n #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #spencer #y/n hotchner #series #criminal minds

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Stray Detective found

This was prompted by an amazing anon! I know you prompted Fowler and Gavin adoptive dad bonding, but it kinda turned into Gavin origin story and the bonding moment is still in there, so I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Characters: Captain Fowler, Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson [Part2]

‘You said you found him in our suspect’s house?’ ‘That’s right, Captain.’ ‘Holy shit, he’s just a kid…’ He looked through the one-way mirror. In the interrogation room sat a teenager, no older than seventeen, pressing gauze to his likely broken, still bleeding nose with trembling, bandaged hands. He really looked worse for wear and unbelievably tired. He was sitting there in a grey hoodie that was dark where his blood had stained it. ‘Gavin Reed, sixteen, no criminal record. The father lives in Chicago, the mother in Baltimore. No job, stopped going to school in 2017.’ Jeffrey nodded slowly. ‘Let me handle it.’ ‘Sure thing, sir.’

He entered the interrogation room and sat down, Gavin throwing him a mock salute but sitting up regardless, dropping the bloody fabric on the metal table. ‘Where are your parents?’, he asked. Gavin just glared at him. ‘Fine. Mr. Reed, what were you doing in that house?’ ‘Ruining my life?’, Gavin shrugged, his voice nasal from the blockage. ‘Should have never even went to the asshole.’ ‘To whom?’ ‘Jimmy- James Marino. I believe he’s a drug dealer or something. Certainly nothing legal.’ ‘So you know he was involved in crime?’ Gavin leaned back and sniffed. ‘Hey, I never asked, he never said a thing. I got to stay at his place, he paid me, and I delivered packages to shady people. I know when to keep my mouth shut.’ Jeffrey sighed. ‘And how did you got into the employment of this Marino?’ ‘You wanna hear my life story next?’, Gavin asked. ‘If it helps’, Jeffrey said. ‘Listen, I don’t want trouble, okay? Sure as hell didn’t wake up some day and decided to become a criminal. Got kicked out by my dad. Would have run anyways. Thought to find some work in Detroit, you know? Something you don’t need a degree for. But I got as far as helping out in a coffeeshop and a garage. Never more than a month. Even the shittiest apartment isn’t paid for with that kind of work. He offered to pay. He paid well. I thought to just stay until I got a different job or had enough for the first rent. But whenever I would talk to him about it, I’d end up like this.’ He pointed at his face. ‘Getting out sure isn’t as easy as slipping in.’

‘And it never occurred to you to call the police?’ ‘When I’m involved with them? Nah, I’m not stupid. It’s bad enough trying to find work uneducated. Imagine how difficult it is with a criminal record.’ ‘You should be glad the neighbours called us.’ Gavin sighed and rested his arms on the table. ‘I am. Phck, I am. I should have… I could have… It’s not as easy if you’re stuck in it.’ ‘I can imagine.’ Fowler sighed, eying the camera in the corner of the room. He pitied him. ‘You seem like a honest person. So, tell me: Are you a criminal?’ ‘I’m hoping I’m not’, Gavin said, a bit confused. ‘Are you willing to give us detailed information on the people you met while employed to Mr. James Marino?’ ‘Sure.’ ‘How well can you lie?’ ‘What?’ He looked to the mirror and nodded. The red light below the lens of the camera lit up. ‘Alright, Lieutenant Anderson will take your statement regarding your employment with Mr. Marino. I’m sorry you have to repeat yourself, there must have been a technical problem with the recording. Just tell him what you told me about the packages and how you didn’t know about what he was involved in before I told you. And meet me afterwards in my office. I will drive you home.’

He walked out of the room the exact same moment Hank came around. ‘What the fuck, Jeffrey?’ ‘Do you have any complaints, Lieutenant?’, he sighed. ‘Yes! We can’t just let him go, no matter what fancy story he told or how beaten up he is! This is a judge’s decision.’ ‘Listen’, Jeffrey hissed. ‘This boy is no criminal. Or can you look at him and say otherwise? Who knows what history he has, but pulling him in front of a jury that looks upon a beaten up school-dropout with ties to at least one criminal won’t help! Or do you suddenly have faith in the American justice system? I took this job to do some good and keep people save! It’s disgusting how easy people can forget about that when they’ve grown to fond of blindly following laws or orders. This is my part.’ ‘Jeffrey-‘ ‘No, Hank. I’ve had enough. I can reassure you, if this backfires in any way, I’m taking full responsibility. Your objection has been noted.’ He held eye contact with the Lieutenant and finally Hank nodded. ‘Alright.’

To say the atmosphere in the car was awkward was an understatement. Gavin sat in the passenger seat, still holding a tissue to his nose he had superficially cleaned in the precinct’s bathroom. Fowler was sitting next to him on the parking lot next to the Chicken Feed and handed him a takeaway container. Gavin didn’t hesitate taking it, but still took the time to thank him. ‘You’re welcome.’ ‘I bet you are not driving me over to Chicago, so what are you planning?’, he asked between two bites. Jeffrey chuckled. ‘No, I won’t do that. I wanted to make sure you got something to eat at least today. And I want to offer you a deal.’ ‘A deal?’ Gavin eyed the food, but was suddenly hesitant. ‘Listen, if you don’t want to, I will drop you off wherever you like it. You will never have to see me again.’ ‘Okay…’ ‘But I hope you’ll consider the other option. Me and my wife, we always wanted children. But I can’t have one. We always wanted to adopt, but we never got the time to-‘ ‘Wait. Wait, wait, wait, you wanna adopt me? Some random guy from the streets? Nah, thanks.’ ‘That was not what I meant’, Jeffrey said. ‘I simply wanted to imply we had a spare room you could take. You can life with us rent free, you don’t have to sleep under some bridge and you won’t have to rely on people like Marino.’ ‘And what’s the catch?’ ‘You will finish school and apply at the police academy.’

‘That’s… not really a catch…’ ‘I know. Listen, I’ve seen enough people end up miserable because they were simply unlucky. If I can help it, I will do my damnest to!’ Gavin mulled it over. ‘I can’t possibly take you up on that offer, sir. It is far too much.’ ‘As I said, you will repay it by getting your life together and work hard. I’m willing to give you another chance, I won’t hold your hand once you took it.’ ‘You are really serious?’, Gavin asked disbelievingly. ‘I am.’ ‘I would be very grateful to take you up on that offer’, Gavin mumbled, still thinking it was all a joke. But Fowler just nodded and started the car, grinning. And Gavin couldn’t help but smile himself.

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Gavin Reed #Captain Fowler #Hank Anderson #if you squint hard enough you can see that I didn't want to research the american justice system and thought phck it #I'm too tired for proper research #wanna write a continuation now #Like Gavin makes it Detective and is really good but also a nuisance and Jeffrey regrets his decision by keeping his son in his own precinc #just some lighthearted stuff of Gavin annoying Fowler but Fowler can't complain because he brought him here #and also he didn't really kept to the rules himself #And Gavin just exploits that until Fowler has the ultimate revenge of partnering him up to the android we all love and know #maybe I'll write it

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sirphillipcranestanaccount · 3 years

Text

Modern AU teaser under the cut. Let me know what y’all think!

“Ugggh” Eloise said, dropping her forehead onto the textbook that lay on the table in front of her. She looked at her phone, 10:30 on a Friday night and she was still in the library. “How did I get myself into this situation?” she raised her head and looked across the table at Penelope, “Pen, when I said ‘oh I think I’m going to get a master’s in English’, English of all things, why didn’t you talk me out of it?”

Penelope shifted her eyes from her laptop screen to Eloise without moving her head. “Because,” she began to reply, never once stopping her typing “I believe your exact words were ‘Pen, I’m going to grad school and there’s no way you can talk me out of it’.”

“She’s right, El,” Edwina said not bothering to look up from her computer, “I have it on video.”

“How many drinks had I had up to that point?” Eloise’s head was once again in her textbook making her words difficult to hear. “And was I aware at the time that I would have to read The Canterbury Tales again?”

“None and yes,” Penelope replied.

“Ugh,” Eloise repeated, “what are you two working on?” she wanted to distract herself from Chaucer for a moment,

“I’m writing a paper about the works and political activism of Susan Sontag,” Penelope answered.

“I’m writing a reflection on a trip I had to take to the Met,” Edwina stated, “so I’m attempting to be engaging about statues I have seen on what must be at least a hundred occasions.”

“Do you guys remember in undergrad when we used to do fun and interesting things on the weekends?” Eloise asked.

“I don’t think that emptying 4 bottles of Barefoot Riesling and eating buffalo wings while watching Golden Girls re-runs could be deemed interesting in any sense of the word,” Penelope said, “plus, judging by the frequency with which Eddie’s phone has been vibrating, she certainly has an interesting weekend ahead of her,” she smirked.

Eloise’s head popped up in interest. Finally a distraction! “Are these texts from a gentleman?” she asked with a tone of overstated interest.

Edwina started to flush “Do you guys remember that TA I had last semester for my archaeology class?”

“The one who’s so smart and funny and cute and always replied to your e-mails right away?” Eloise replied, “I’m not sure if you mentioned him.”

Edwina’s eyes narrowed at Eloise’s teasing, “Well, we went out and got coffee the other week and we’ve been texting ever since, and long story short I think I’m going to marry him.”

“Marriage?” Eloise scoffed, “have you two even…?” she let her words trail off, but let a rude gesture with her hands finish the statement.

“I was being facetious,” Edwina replied, “and no, I haven’t slept with him,” she returned to typing just before adding, “Very ladylike hand gesture by the way.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve never once tried to be ladylike in my life,” Eloise retorted.

“The blouse and pencil skirt you’re wearing at the library would state otherwise,” Penelope teased.

“Pen, you know I have to wear this when I tutor,” she shot back “apparently I have to look professional when I’m trying to help freshmen comp lit majors figure out what Candide is about.”

“What is Candide about?” Edwina asked.

“Hell if I know,” Eloise replied with a shrug. She looked back at her phone, “can we go home now?” she asked, “I hate walking through the park after 11.”

Penelope closed her computer, “I was about to suggest the same.”

As the 3 women walked out of the now-empty library Eloise spotted something on a bench in the vestibule between the library doors. It was a leather-bound notebook with a snap closure. Eloise couldn’t help but be curious, so she opened it.

“What on Earth are you doing El?” Penelope asked, “we are in New York City, god knows where that’s been!”

“Calm down Pen, it’s not street trash,” she replied. She opened to the first page of the notebook and read: property of Phillip Crane. If found, please contact [email protected]

Phillip got home and all but went straight to sleep. Well, first he thanked and said goodbye to his Aunt who had been kind enough to watch his children after their most recent nanny had quit.

It appeared that the final straw for the most recent young lady–in what seemed to be a revolving door of unfortunate women (and some men)– was when the twins had decided to put a layer of cream cheese on the deodorant that they found in her purse. Phillip was more bewildered by his children’s antics than anybody, but even he had to admit that someone who decided to pursue a career in child care ought to be made of sterner stuff.

But today had been a long day, and he needed to sleep before he went back to the lab tomorrow. He peaked his head into Oliver and Amanda’s room to make sure they were asleep. Or, if not asleep, not causing trouble. Then he went to his room and simply fell face down on the bed.

Phillip woke up the next morning to his alarm at 6 am in the clothes he had worn the day previous. He cursed under his breath, he was planning to wear that pair of khakis again today, but now they were all wrinkled and so was his shirt. Phillip went out into the kitchen and started making coffee when he heard a small voice from behind him.

“Daddy, you’re not going to wear those clothes to work are you?” He turned around to see Amanda in her pajamas.

“Don’t I look good?” Phillip joked with her.

“You look like you slept in your clothes,” she said flatly, moving a chair to the side of the cabinet to reach for the cereal that was a bit too high for her to reach on her own.

“That’s just the look I was going for,” he smiled and took a sip of his coffee, “do you want me to pack your lunch for you?” he asked. He didn’t have to be at the lab until 9:00 this morning.

“No thanks,” Amanda said passing him to get milk from the refrigerator, “Me and Oliver packed our lunches last night.”

Phillip felt his stomach knot. He was proud that both of his children were self-sufficient, but he hated the fact that they had to be. Ever since their mother died–and frankly, before–they had needed to be like little adults, in spite of being 8 years old. Phillip tried the best he could to be a good dad to them, but working toward a Ph.D. and having the pressure of a research fellowship on one’s shoulders made active fathering somewhat difficult.

“What did you pack, is it healthy?” Phillip asked, trying to make up for his dead-beat ways.

“Sandwich, apples, yogurt, and cheez-its,” she said matter of factly “I don’t know what Oliver put in his.”

As if on cue Oliver walked into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “I made the same thing but with chips instead of yogurt, because yogurt is gross.” He joined his sister at the countertop and poured cereal into a bowl that Amanda had already set out for him.

“Alright, kids, what’s on the schedule for today?” Phillip said, putting down his coffee, “anything after school that I should let Aunt Gertie know about?”

“I have piano right after school,” Amanda stated.

“And I have a hockey game at 5,” Oliver said with a mouth full of cereal, “can you come, Dad?”

Phillip’s heart sank, he knew he probably wasn’t going to be able to make it, but he decided to try and humor his son anyway.

“Let me check my book,” he said walking over to his bag. He looked in the brown satchel to find that he couldn’t find the familiar brown leather datebook.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath, “shit shit shit shit shit.”

“Are you okay dad?” Oliver asked, once more with his mouth full.

“Yes,” Phillip said with a sigh “I just can’t find my datebook.”

Phillip grabbed his phone to check the schedule he tried to maintain electronically and saw that he had an e-mail.

Dear Mr. Crane,

Hello! I just wanted to contact you because I believe I found your datebook outside the library last night. At least, this is the e-mail that was written to contact in case it was found. What is the best way that I can return it to you? I know I’m personally lost without my planner. Let me know how I can get it back to you and I will be sure to do so ASAP.

Sincerely,

Eloise Bridgerton, B.A.

Student | NYU Graduate School of Arts & Science

[email protected]

(212)995-3422

P.S. I suppose I should ask you to describe it, just to make sure I’m handing it off to the right person. Once you’ve done that I will promptly return it to you.

#philoise #to sir phillip with love #modern au #phillip crane #eloise bridgerton

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phantom-curve · 3 years

Text

find the strength, find the melody pt. 7

lmfao I love how I posted an update 2 days ago like “this fic will have sporadic posts! idk when they’re coming!” and then I spent the last two days writing this. when that insomnia inspiration hits ya gotta just go with it!

this chapter went in a completely different direction than I had planned on soooo yeah...honestly not sure where this is gonna end up! the characters from my OC novel that I’m loosely basing this story around didn’t have a connection before they ran into each other so when Julie gave me this I almost cut it because I genuinely wasn’t sure where it was going. I think I’ve almost figured it out and I’m pretty sure I know how this will end. and now we all get to laugh at me together because it’s definitely gonna be more than 3-4 chapters. it might even be more than 6. Luke’s POV will have roughly the same amount of chapters I think, possibly longer because boy oh boy does he have A LOT to say (most of it about Julie). fair warning: this one has an awkward cut off because of the way I need to set up the next chapter. sorry about that.

and now something I probably should be embarrassed to admit: I don’t remember writing the part where I managed to sneak an “I’ve Got The Music” reference in so now we know for sure this show has infiltrated my brain. it’s fine, I’m fine, at least I WILL BE WHEN WE GET A S2!!!! KENNY!!!! SAVE ME HERE!!! MAKE MY UNHINGED OBSESSIONS WORTH IT!!!!!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

It was no small miracle that Julie made it through the afternoon without Ray asking for details about her supposed ‘plan’ to play with the Sunset Curve boys. She didn’t think she would have been able to pull off spinning a story quite as well as Luke had earlier. She had expected at least a small amount of interrogating about when she had started playing again, but apparently the news that she was playing at all, let alone with other people in front of an audience, was enough for Ray to ignore all of the other plot holes involved in this scheme. He seemed to have almost forgotten the meeting with Principal Lessa entirely, humming on the drive home, kissing her forehead and turning her loose to freak out alone in her room while he sat down to work on his computer in the dining room. Julie took full advantage of the time alone to restlessly pace her room and send Flynn a 911 text. Her bestie’s contact photo lit up the phone screen 30 seconds later.

“Okay, I’m hiding in the basement girl’s bathroom, so you’ve got exactly 5 minutes before I get too grossed out to stay here.”

Julie’s chest loosened at the sound of Flynn’s comforting voice. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that loved her the way Flynn did. It was reassuring and made it easy for Julie to let loose.

“Lessa told Dad about the music program and then You-Know-Who ambushed us outside of her office and basically forced me to agree to perform with them.”

“Voldemort was at Los Feliz?!”

Flynn’s gasp was overflowing with sarcasm.

“Flynn!” Julie whined. “Be serious! Luke showed up out of nowhere again! And he did the thing again! The charming his way into getting what he wants thing! And now I have to play with his freaking band! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

There was silence for a moment. When Flynn spoke again her voice was softer, more serious.

“You don’t have to play with them, Jules. You can tell them no, and they’ll have no choice but to respect that. The only person who can make you do anything is you. But...I kinda think you might want to play with them.”

“What?! No!”

Julie’s exclamation was a second late. Flynn didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Julie sighed.

“Okay fine. There’s something about Luke that makes me want to play again. Are you happy? He gave mom’s song back to me when I thought it was lost forever. He’s the only person who’s heard me perform it, and he...no one else has ever made me feel that good about my music before.”

Julie thanked her lucky stars Flynn wasn’t in the room to see her blush. There was a long moment of contemplative silence on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, there was that extra note of take-no-shit in Flynn’s voice that made Julie sit up and really listen.

“I think you should give it a chance. Who knows, maybe this is some sort of sign from your mom. You said it was a miracle he would have even found that song in the first place. You said it felt like she was there with you when you were playing. Maybe she made sure it would find its way back to you when you were ready for it.”

Julie didn’t say anything, just worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. It had felt a little too perfect to be just a coincidence. The way Luke kept appearing in her life at the exact moments she needed him someone or something to help her keep moving forward. Flynn sighed.

“Look, I’m not saying it is your mom. But I’m not saying there’s not some kind of greater power out there that keeps pushing the two of you together. I think you should give it a chance. If nothing else, you can get back in the music program and we can bring Double Trouble to life in time for our Junior Showcase!”

Julie couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes felt misty, love for her best friend welling up in her heart.

“I never agreed to that name you know. But thanks, Flynn. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now. I gotta get the fuck out of this grimy ass bathroom. Love you, bye!”

Flynn waited for her to return the sentiment before hanging up. Julie flopped back on her bed, letting her breath out in a loud whoosh as she hit the comforter. A glance at her phone told her she only had a couple hours until Luke and the other boys would be out of school and on their way to her house. She tried her best to ignore the way that thought made her stomach roll with a type of nervousness she would rather not name. It was easier to blame it on nerves over playing with new people rather than nerves over playing with Luke. Except...now that she actually thought about it, she had played with Luke before. Her head spun, eyes fluttering shut as she remembered the one music class she had shared with Luke last year.

She had only been a freshman, stuck in a lowly Introduction to Composition class. It was supposed to be for new songwriters. Julie had a little more experience than the rest of the class, after all she’d been kind of composing with her mom for a few years now, so when it had been time to write a duet for their final big project she had gotten paired up with the classmate whose skill level most matched hers. It was supposed to be a way for them to challenge each other and grow as writers instead of one person doing most of the work. Julie had been paired with Luke.

He’d been a grumbly sophomore, held back for failing his last semester of Intro to Comp the year before. He had been stuck there only for the second semester, forced to double up between their class and his second year Composition class. Julie hadn’t been all that excited about partnering with him. He hadn’t really seemed to care about the class at all, and even though Julie also sometimes felt like it was holding her back a little bit, she never once voiced that thought. It was a privileged mindset, and Julie was well aware that she had an advantage over her classmates since her mother was a professional songwriter. Luke, on the other hand, had made it well known that he felt like he was wasting his time just waiting to get through the semester so he could move up to the Advanced Composition class that he felt he truly belonged in. Julie could usually do no more than roll her eyes in those moments.

It was true that Luke was talented. His guitar playing was impressive, his lyrics were heartfelt and sometimes even downright poetic. Julie just didn’t think anyone deserved specific things in life because they happened to be naturally talented at something. Their songwriting experience had been...interesting to say the least. And short. It had ended abruptly when Julie’s mother had died 5 days later. In the end, they’d only worked together for two 40-minute class periods before she had been lost in the fog of grief that consumed her in the weeks following the loss of her mom.

Julie shot up in bed, eyes wide. She didn’t even fully remember what had happened with the half-finished song they had been working on. Errant notes echoed in her head, like a song that had only existed in dreams until now. She absently wondered if Luke had held onto that as well. It was no wonder she had kept that particular memory suppressed all this time. That time in her life had been particularly painful. Luke had been gentle with her though. Almost all traces of his typical arrogance gone in the two short class periods they’d had to work together. He had kept things light, steering their songwriting in the direction of a rock ballad more than a true duet. Julie hadn’t minded. She had been floating through classes by then anyway, on edge every second she was away from her mom’s bedside. It had been easier to work on something that didn’t have as many sappy emotions attached to it.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. No wonder Luke had been so sweet with her. He must have had a front row seat to her breakdown throughout the last year. She hadn’t even realized it. Had never before seen the way he watched her from a distance, checked in on her during class. She should have. Now that she was thinking about it, trying to identify every instance, she could name a million. How had she missed it for so long? How had he gone so long without saying anything? The Luke she remembered was terrible at keeping his mouth shut. He had always been ready to speak his mind, never afraid to start a discourse. It didn’t track that he had been holding himself back. Unless...it was more about her musical ability than anything else. She remembered now; Luke had been thrilled to partner with her for the duet. He had made some remark about how her sound was the perfect complement to his. Maybe he only cared about the ways they would mesh as songwriters. She could only hope that’s what his words had meant.

She felt more secure in her footing as a musician when it came to dealing with Luke than she ever had as a simple teenaged girl. If it was just about the music she could compartmentalize better, keep herself from getting too emotionally invested. Music had always been a safe zone, neutral. She breathed in and out deeply, remembering the technique Dr. Turner had taught her to slow her breathing and recenter her mind. She could do this. It was just about the music. They would play a song together, Julie would get back into the music program, and life would move forward much in the way it had before. Except Julie would actually participate in class this time. She had the music back in her soul, she wasn’t ever going to let it go again. On her next exhale, she heard the doorbell ring. Showtime. Julie zipped down the stairs, ripping open the door before her dad had a chance to get more than three feet away from his computer. Luke, Alex and Reggie all stumbled back a step as she tumbled outside, pulling the front door shut behind her. The three teenaged boys shared a look.

“Studio. Now.”

Julie raced down the path to her mom’s studio before they could react, not even waiting to see if they followed her. If they were smart, if they truly wanted to do this, they would. She hauled the garage doors open, only turning around when she had the piano at her back. The wood felt warm and solid, almost like she had her mom as a support behind her instead of an instrument. The boys appeared seconds later, Luke leading the way. He stopped a couple feet inside of the studio, studying her with wide open earnest eyes. She let out a deep breath. Reggie spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Woah, Julie, this studio is so cool! It’s like a tiny home! A musical tiny home in a botanical garden!!”

His green eyes were wide, expression awed as he spun to take in the space that Julie and her mom had spent countless hours turning into theirs.

“How did you get chairs on the ceiling?! Are you, like, a witch and a siren?!! Man, you and your mom must have made some serious magic in here.”

Luke’s arm shot out faster than lightening to backhand Reggie’s bicep. Reggie cringed away, a soft owww! just barely audible over the loud sigh Alex let out as he buried his face in his hands. Reggie shrugged, looking back and forth between his bandmates before giving Julie a confused yet apologetic glance. What had he said wrong this time? The giggle that bubbled out of her was as unexpected as it was welcomed. Warmth blazed in her heart, memories of the time she had spent in here with her mom washing over her with a kind of hazy bliss she hadn’t ever experienced before. She gazed at Reggie, letting that same feeling of motherly love from the night before fill her up. It was all she could do not to react to Luke’s jaw dropping when she gave Reggie a soft smile.

“We did. We made so much magic in here.”

The words were gentle and filled with a kind of genuine love that overshadowed all other feelings of awkward nervousness. Alex and Luke relaxed instantly, Reggie’s face losing all traces of uncertainty as he beamed at her with a smile so large it almost looked painful. Julie couldn’t help but let herself return it, just a little bit. The silence that settled between them was more comfortable, the tense moment from earlier broken. Julie studied the boys in front of her. She hadn’t ever thought of them as friends per se. They knew each other, would say hi if they encountered one another outside the walls of the high school, but at the same time, they didn’t actually know each other. Julie’s little run in with Luke the night before had made that painfully obvious. She wasn’t really sure what to make of them.

“Are you guys actually serious about this whole Showcase scheme? Did Luke even tell you about his dumb plan?”

“Hey! That plan is genius. Even your dad agreed. He seems pretty cool.”

Julie couldn’t help the fond way she rolled her eyes. Alex was quick to reassure her that they did, in fact, know about the plan.

“Not that I actually think it’s a particularly well thought out plan.” He stated with a lingering glare at Luke’s back.

The planner in question did his best to ignore the skeptical look on Julie’s face.

“Julie, you really don’t deserve to be out of the music program.” Reggie’s voice was soft and sincere. “You have the voice of an angel. If we can help convinced Ms. Harrison and Principal Lessa to give you your spot back it will be so worth it. And even if we don’t, it’ll be worth the looks on their faces when we rock the pants off that crowd!”

Julie laughed in spite of herself, slightly reassured even as she chewed nervously on her lip. Luke took a few bouncy steps forward, pulling her attention to him completely. His eyes locked on hers and she was sure she was drowning, throat tightening at the look he was giving her.

“You got this. I wouldn’t have come up with this idea if I didn’t believe it 100%.”

Honestly, that was what scared her the most about it.

“We don’t even have anything prepared.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, unsteady and wavering. Luke took a few more steps towards her, Reggie and Alex ghosting along silently a few feet behind him. Julie didn’t even notice, so laser focused on the brunette boy in the cut-up tank top in front of her. She watched his muscles flex as he reached into his back pocket, flicking out a piece of folded up paper in a move scarily reminiscent of when he had given her mom’s song back to her. He bit his lip, head ducking a little to be closer to hers as he unfolded the worn sheets of scrappy notebook paper. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, focusing on the messy handwriting in front of her.

“I thought you would say that.”

The smile on his face was so soft and sweet it should have been illegal.

“It’s called ‘Bright’. It’s a Sunset Curve song that we never performed because it’s missing something. Look,” his bare shoulder brushed hers as he shifted to point at the notes, warmth seeping through the thin material of her t-shirt, “it’s perfect for your range. I was thinking, if we add a little bit of piano here and here,” fire blazed a path up her arm as his fingers traced along the opening notes and chorus, forearm flexing against her own, bare skin brushing in teasing licks, “it’ll be perfect.”

Julie forced herself to focus on what he was saying, eyes roving across the paper. She hummed a little under her breath, hearing what he described in her head. His eyes lit up when he saw her get it, feet springing up and down as he dipped even closer towards her and started to sing.

We will rise, through the night

You and I

We will fight to shine together

Bright forever

His voice vibrated in her chest, the sound filling her with an emotion she couldn’t fully identify. Alex and Reggie bobbed along behind him, Reggie’s fingers plucking out the baseline on an invisible guitar while Alex nodded along to an unseen beat. Julie could envision the way the song would sound with a complete band, could practically see herself fitting seamlessly into the mix with her piano and vocals. She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she joined in, reading the lyrics off of the page.

And rise through the night,

You and I

We will fight to shine together

“Go up high.”

Luke cut in, fingers twirling towards the ceiling. Julie automatically made the adjustment in notes to harmonize her voice with his for the last line, holding the final syllable for a beat longer than him.

Bright forever

“Yes!”

Luke’s arm pumped up and down, bicep flexing and distracting Julie momentarily. She dropped her head shyly, trying to hide her blush. When her cheeks cooled a moment later she looked back up at the boy in front of her. His eyes were glowing, smile stretched a mile wide as he stared at her. Unconditional belief in her was practically oozing from his pores. She felt her face soften as their eyes locked, giving him her own sweet smile that was meant just for the two of them. She thanked him with a gentle murmur, heart melting as he simply bit his lower lip and nodded.

A throat cleared in the background, and Julie was snapped out of their private bubble by the sound. Her entire face felt engulfed in flames as she looked over Luke’s shoulder to see Alex and Reggie still standing a few paces behind him. Reggie’s face was bright, his sunshine temperament back in full force. Alex was a little more guarded, but he was giving her an encouraging smile and there was cautious optimism swimming in his sage green eyes as he fiddled with one of his drumsticks. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out in one smooth exhale. The same sort of peacefulness from the night before settled over her.

“Okay. Okay, so we’re doing this.”

Luke’s whoop was so loud both her and Alex jumped. Reggie raced forward with a cheer to sling one arm around Luke’s shoulders and the other around Julie’s, pulling them so close to his chest that their noses nearly touched. Julie saw the blush staining Luke’s cheeks and felt her own warm to match. Alex coughed again.

“Reg, c’mon. Let it settle for just a sec before you go all human octopus on the poor girl.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, Jules!!”

Reggie released both of them quickly. Julie flicked her gaze between the three boys, enjoying the glimpses at their band dynamic. Alex’s words had sounded a bit exasperated, but there was a fondness running through them as well. He gave a half-hearted roll of his eyes at Reggie’s abrupt movements and reached his own long arm out to pull the dark-haired boy close.

“Help me unload the van? I still don’t trust our little Lukey boy with my kit.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Luke sounded downright offended. The dark look Alex leveled at him in response had Julie choking back a laugh with a badly disguised cough. Clearly once of whatever he did was enough. Luke pouted, arms flexing as they crossed over his chest.

“You put your foot through my bass drum, and you think that isn’t reason enough not to trust you with it ever again?”

Luke sputtered, eyes flicking to Julie and back to Alex as his ears reddened.

“I told you I didn’t see it!”

“It’s the biggest part of the kit, dumbass. Literally the hardest thing to miss.”

Alex’s voice was as unimpressed as it was dismissive. Luke threw his hands in the air as the other boys headed out of the studio, laughing amongst themselves. It was clear this was a regular argument between the two, no heat or anger left in it, only a loving sort of tease. Like the way Carlos still brought up that time she accidentally gave him a concussion double-bouncing him off of their neighbor’s trampoline when he wanted something from her. Or the way her Tía would still laugh as she remembered the time her mom had almost gotten them both arrested for a bar fight on her 21st birthday, Ray affectionately filling in the parts that she tried to leave out. Warmth bloomed in her chest. This wasn’t just a band, wasn’t just a ragtag trio of friends. These guys were brothers. This was a family. And they were letting her into that intimate circle.

The thought was both humbling and nerve-wracking. This Showcase was a big deal. It wasn’t just some school assignment. This could impact their future as a band career-wise. They were all trusting her with this, fully believing in her, or at least, fully believing in Luke’s faith in her abilities. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever believed in her like that. Not anyone that hadn’t known her since she was in diapers. Her head swam, knees feeling a bit weak. She stumbled her way over to the couch, collapsing onto it with a barely audible huff. Luke was in front of her instantly, crouched down so they were face to face. His hands twitched in his lap, but he didn’t reach for her.

“Hey. Julie. Breathe.”

She sucked in a breath, zeroing in on nothing more than his face. After a few seconds she realized he was breathing in and out slowly, just loud enough for her to hear over the jumble of thoughts running amok in her brain. She matched her own inhales and exhales to his, the room slowly coming back into focus as her head cleared. He gave her one of those soft smiles she was starting to think of as hers.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I wouldn’t have stopped you in school if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it. I heard you last night. I listened to you for years before last night.”

His chin dropped in embarrassment for just a second before he pulled his gaze back up to hers. Julie felt like she was on the edge of a cliff. Not for the first time she wished she knew how long this version of Luke had been lurking under the surface. It took everything in her not to let herself step off that ledge and fall.

“Music is in your soul. It’s a part of you. Not everyone is like that, but you are. Your life without music...”

He tapered off like the thought was physically painful to him, eyebrows furrowing in a slight wince.

“Living without music would be like living in a world without stars: dark and empty and uninspired. You deserve galaxies, Julie. You deserve the chance to shine exactly like the star you are, and the world deserves the chance to hear you. Please, just...have a little faith?”

She saw it then. As he gazed at her with those bottomless ocean eyes, with that special smile on his lips and sincerity bleeding through every word, she knew. Luke was like her. Luke got it. In a way that no one else except her mom ever had. That’s what this was. They were kindred spirits, two sides of the same coin. And that feeling? The wind rushing through her hair and stealing her breath away while her limbs all turned to jelly feeling? That was definitely her falling head over heels off of the cliff and into Luke Patterson completely.

“Okay.”

She breathed out, and his answering smile set off the butterflies she thought had finally left her stomach. He stood up and held a hand out to her, easily pulling her to her feet in one smooth movement.

“You know,” his smile turned rueful, “eventually you’re gonna have to answer one of my questions with something other than ‘okay’. That’s a pretty passive word, and I’m not really a passive type of person. I wanna start hearing some ‘hell yeah’s and ‘awesome’s pretty soon.”

Julie rolled her eyes, moving away from Luke to set up her keyboard. He gave her a bouncy little shrug of his shoulders, and she let the levity of his joke wash over her, releasing the last bit of nerves. She could do this. Luke believed in her. Her mom believed in her. Hell, Alex and Reggie believed in her and she barely even knew them. She could do this, just like her mom had said.

Noise from the other boys making their way up the driveway had her rushing to pull both doors to the studio open so they could haul in Alex’s drum kit. The three of them left together to grab amps and guitars, Julie finishing the rest of the set up in the garage. Before she had time to overthink things or freak out again, they were all settled into their spots and Alex was counting down for their first run through. Fingers against the keys, Julie breathed out, opened her mouth, and began to play.

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