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yangsrose · 3 years

Note

Owo i noticed your requests are open,can I have an angst with street racer haechan based off the song in another life by Katy perry + haechans death from crashing?

Word Count: 2.9k words

Warnings: street races, mentions of alcohol, mentions of tattoos, mentions of making out, character death, angst

Authors Notes: this is my first time writing something like this so if it’s bad i’m sorry akjdfn also i got a bit too carried away hence the fic almost being 3k words o_O

Summer after high school when we first met

You pulled out the old photo book, flipping through the pictures that you had taken that fateful summer. You felt the memories of the summer before the first year of college flash back to you, remembering how carefree and young you were. As you flipped through the pictures, we saw a familiar leather jacket peeking from the corner of one of the images. Tears pooled in your eyes as you saw his face, memories of him flooding your brain.

Lee Donghyuck, or Haechan as everyone called him, was your first actual boyfriend. Sure, you had a few flings with other people throughout the course of your high school, but your first actual relationship was over the summer with a certain purple haired boy that lived across from you.

The day that you met him was forever ingrained in your brain, never letting you forget about him. Your parents had gone on a trip over the summer, leaving you home alone for the entire break. You spent the summer before university just like how anyone normally would, wasting your time by lying around and eating a ton of ice cream. Your summer didn’t truly start until one of your friends convinced you to go to a street race that her friends had invited her to. You were nervous and jittering, not wanting to get caught by anyone by going to the illegal race sites.

You remember sitting in the bleachers and watching the races, feeling an adrenaline rush surge through your body as you watched the cars zip down the gravel road, constantly trying to overtake each other. The hot June breeze blew your hair around, causing there to be more heat than refreshment one usually gains from the wind blowing. You remember watching a certain light blue and white car zip down, and something in you hoped that they would be the one to win. Maybe it was the fact that the colours popped out amongst the other darker cars, or maybe it was the fact that the driver easily maneuvered around the other cars. Whatever it was, your attention was instantly captured.

After the race was done, all the racers stepped out of their respective cars and your friend dragged you to go see her friend that you had attended the race for. As you walked through the multitudes of people, you saw the person in the blue car take off his helmet and shake his hair that was currently flattened from the helmet. As if the world was going in slow motion, you and him made eye contact, and you felt as if you were being tugged to him.

His dark purple hair complemented his tan skin perfectly, giving him a carefree and rebellious look to his doe like eyes. His jacket matched his car, having a white body and bright light blue sleeves, patched adorning them. His pants were an odd combination of light and dark washed stripes, but even after all these years, you have to agree that he was the only person that could pull off wearing those.

While you were still stuck in your trance, you didn’t notice the male walk up to you and stick his hand in front of you. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, you had exchanged numbers with each other and even had a date planned out. You felt a giddy feeling rise up in your chest as you drove away later that night, replacing any doubts that you had about going to the race today. You looked back at Haechan from your rearview mirror and saw him wave at you, leading you to replicate the same motion. Even though you had only known him for a span of a few hours, you were truly whipped for him.

We'd make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

It was now the beginning of August and summer was almost done. Haechan had asked you out in the beginning of July, which meant that you two had been dating for a month now. He took you on frequent dates, them always ending in the backseat of his car, making out, or on your roof. Even though you were pretty apprehensive about climbing up to the top, Haechan was always there for you, holding out his hand so that you could climb up to the top without getting hurt. He was also the first person that you had even gotten drunk with, him bringing bottles of alcohol to the roof. Yes, some people might label him as a bad influence, but you truly knew the type of person that Haechan was. Even though he made some bad mistakes here and there, he was the sweetest person to exist, never letting anything bad happen to you.

On your 18th birthday, you made a decision that some people might call stupid. You begged Haechan to take you to a tattoo parlor, wanting to get a matching tattoo with him. He denied your requests, saying that you would just regret it later on. But as you pleaded even more, he obligated, taking you on your birthday.

You remember sitting next to Haechan, holding his hand as the repetitive prick left your arm stinging. An hour later, yours and Haechan’s wrists were wrapped up, and you both left the store, walking hand in hand with a small lock and key tattoo permanently inked on your skin.

And for the record, you never regretted that tattoo.

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never planned that one day I'd be losing you

Eleven months into your relationship with Haechan, you both realised that going to different universities would be really hard for the both of you. Between the long nights spent at the library and the hours in internships, you both soon began to cherish any free time that you had together. Haechan still raced, but you spent more time focusing on your school work, leaving for no free time at all. Today was the only day that the both of you finally had free time in your schedules, due it currently being summer break. You and Haechan currently lay in your bed side by side, talking about anything and everything that came to your minds.

“What are you planning on doing after graduating?” Haechan asked you, turning to face you.

“Probably try to get into medical school. You?” you asked, turned your head towards him.

“I’m probably going to go into music.”

“Music?”

“Yeah, I like singing and not to mention, I’m pretty good at it.” Haechan said, smirking in your direction.

“Looks like you’ll have to show me one day.” you said, giving him a coy smile.

“Do you know what else I’ll be doing?”

“Racing?”

“Spending the rest of my life with you.”

You choked on your spit and sat up, not believing what Haechan was saying. The look on his face was one of pure adoration, showing no hints of deception.

“Don’t say stuff like that” you said, shoving his shoulder lightly. Haechan laughed at your response and teased you a bit for your shy attitude. But deep down inside, the both of you knew that you would be willing to spend the rest of your lives together.

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other, we made a pact

On your second anniversary, Haechan went all out for your date. He bought you a huge bouquet of roses, and even cooked you dinner, setting the small dining table in your shared apartment to make it seem like you were at a fancy restaurant. You remember Haechan pulling out your chair for you and acting extra dramatic that day, making you laugh at his silly antics. Little did you know, he was actually planning to purpose that night. He fidgeted the entire night, sticking his hand into the pocket that held the velvet box encasing the small metal band.

After dinner and desert were done, Haechan cleared his throat and asked you to listen to a song that he had recorded a bit earlier. You didn’t take much into account because he was always asking you to listen to stuff, wanting to get your opinion on his works. But today, something seemed different. For one, Haechan seemed more jittery, and he kept fidgeting with something in his pocket. You put those all aside and pressed play, the sweet voice of your boyfriend filling the air. Once the song ended, you were met with your boyfriend kneeling on one knee in front of you, holding a dark velvet box containing a small diamond ring, the stones glittering under the bright light in the dining room. Your hands flew up to your mouth and you felt tears form in your eyes, jumping out of your seat to tackle Haechan into a hug. He groaned a bit when you hugged him, but his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him.

Hugging him here, it felt like nothing in the world could go wrong.

Sometimes when I miss you I put those records on

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

Saw you downtown singing the blues

It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse

“Get out.”

“y/n-”

“I said get out.”

Haechan sighed and stormed out of the apartment, grabbing his jacket along with him. You watched him go out, feeling a mix of anger and sadness brew in your stomach. You felt a feeling of anxiety rise in your chest, confusing you at what the feeling meant.

Six months ago when Haechan proposed to you, he vowed to put his racing days aside. He told you that he wanted to start a family with you, and frankly, racing was slowly becoming more and more dangerous, leading to more people dying from crashes that occured during races. You were relieved, feeling happy that he wouldn’t be putting himself at risk anymore. But two weeks ago, you started feeling suspicious of Haechan. He would always give you an excuse of “having to go to the library for schoolwork”. You investigated into the cause of his absence, and when you did, you found out that he was secretly going back and racing , something that he promised you not to do. When you confronted him, all he did was stare at you in disbelief. How did you find out? He was so careful to cover his tracks, but you still managed to figure out what he was doing. Haechan began arguing back, saying that he needed a way to get rid of all the stress that had accumulated on himself from school. Before the both of you knew it, it had just led to Haechan walking out and you sitting on the loveseat, sobbing your eyes out.

Three hours later, it was near midnight and Haechan still wasn’t back home, causing you to get worried for him. Even when you two fought with each other, you always managed to make up with each other, keeping true of not letting the sun go down on your anger. You called his phone multiple times, getting the same message saying that the receiver could not be reached at the time. Your hands started to shake as time went on, and you felt a feeling of anxiety take over you. Just as you were about to grab your coat and go outside to search for Haechan, your phone let up with a notification of someone calling you. You immediately grabbed your phone, saying a small “hello” into the receiver.

“Is this y/n l/n?” the person asked. You nodded your head fervently and listened to what they were saying. When they finished, your phone dropped out of your hands and fell onto the floor with a clattering sound, causing it to resonate around the small room.

Haechan had gotten into an accident while racing and was in the hospital in a critical condition.

You ran out of your house and got into your car, driving at an unreasonably fast speed to the hospital. You rushed over to the front desk, telling the receptionist that you were there for a patient named Haechan. The receptionist told you the room he was in, and you ran off to the room, hoping that you would reach on time before it was too late. Your wish went into vain however, because by the time that you had opened the room’s door, you heard the doctor announce to the nurse to write down the time of death. You felt the world spin around you, and suddenly, everything turned black.

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

I should've told you what you meant to me

'Cause now I pay the price

Two weeks later, you stood in front of the huge headstone that was placed in front of you, feeling the never ending tears well up in your eyes once again. Everyone flocked around you and Haechan’s family, mummering their condolences and placing flowers on his grave.

That night, Haechan had left the apartment in anger. Wanting to find a way to relieve the stress, he went over to the familiar race track, hoping to feel better after racing for a while. He apparently lost control of his car after he swerved to avoid hitting another racer that was ahead of him. The rest of the details were hidden from your mind, you selectively choosing not to listen to what had happened after that.

After the funeral was done, you walked back to your car, feeling as if an immovable weight was placed on your shoulders. You sat in your car, the silence of the environment threatening to swallow you whole. You looked down at your stomach, placing a hand over it.

The day that Haechan died was the day that you took a pregnancy test, realising that you had symptoms of potentially carrying a child in you. You remember waiting to tell him of your news, all of it long forgotten in the process of the events that happened the few days prior. You felt the tears well up once again and you hastily wiped them away, not wanting to break down once more while you were trying to get home. You inserted the key into your car and drove away, your mind clouded with countless thoughts of what you would have to do now.

You just wished you could tell him that you loved him one last time.

In another life

I would be your girl

We'd keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were

The one that got away

“Mom come on! We have to get going to the ice cream parlor!” you turned around and saw your daughter’s head peek up through the top of the attic, the only thing being seen was her mischievous eyes peeking out.

“Go put on your shoes. I’ll be there soon okay?” you watched as her head left sight, the sound of her hurrying to put on her shoes echoing through the house. You put the photobook back into the box that you pulled it out of, smiling at your past self ten years ago. Your life had changed drastically through those years and even though you still spent days grieving over Haechan, you realised that he taught you to love the little things in life and let loose for once, learning to live in the moment.

You climbed down the attic stairs and walked over to where your daughter was standing, putting on your shoes as well before feeling her tug at your hand. You laughed and let her lead you, not noticing that your necklace had come out from under your t-shirt when you bent down. The light reflecting off of it caused your attention to be captured, scattering multitudes of small multicoloured diamond shapes all over the floor. Your hand clasped onto the dainty ring that was held on by a thin gold chain, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine. You looked down at your other hand and saw it being held by your daughter, who you had to admit was the exact same person as Haechan. Her infectious personality and positive attitude reminded you of the days where Haechan would sit next to you for hours on end, helping you with your school work. Even her facial features were the same, the round doe eyes holding bits of mischief in them, lighting up whenever she smiled or laughed.

The sun shone down on the both of you, finally peaking through the clouds as it scattered the light around. You looked up and smiled, something in your heart telling you that it was Haechan’s way of saying “it’s going to be okay.” You smiled and walked into the parlour, because for the first time in almost seven years, life did seem like it was going to be okay.

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tale-xistime · 3 years

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Lolll these prompts are amazing gems. I love them all. Here's a fave:

7. “What’s our exit strategy?”

"our exit strategy?"

"oh my god were all going to die."

You guess who says which line 😏

|I love all these prompts and want more of them so give me more hehehehehehe|

Crawling through an air duct in a dress was difficult. Crawling through an air duct in a dress over a ballroom full of people without making a sound while Raymond Reddington was staring at her ass was even more difficult.

Liz hadn’t had time to change out of her long, silky, burgundy dress before they were hiding from security, trying their best to make it to Levi Sumpters office without being caught and subsequently shot.

They had to get to the statue standing in the massive mansions office, preferably before the party that was providing them cover ended.

“So much for laying low.” Liz grumbled quietly from in front of Red. Crawling on her hands and knees in the dark ducting that lined the ceiling.

Red crawled not far behind her, his tux probably marinated in stagnant dust by now. He had Lizzies blood colored train tossed over his shoulder in an attempt to avoid tripping her, not complaining at all about their awkward position if only due to the marvelous view he was provided from his position crawling close behind her.

He only wished he could have more light on the situation from here in the closed off metal rectangle.

“Well it wasn’t exactly my plan to be caught sneaking off to the off limits area of the party Elizabeth. When you pulled a gun on the security guards that certainly didn’t help situation. The only way we got out of that jam was because we were able to run and get the vent cover opened before they caught up to us again. That and my swift kick to the left guards crotch, thank you very much.”

Liz rolled her eyes at his indignation.

“This would have been much easier if we had only held the guards to get the exact location of Sumpters office. Now we are just crawling around aimlessly in miles of ductwork Red!”

Red gave a ‘psh’ sound from behind his closed jaw.

“Holding the guards would have been too difficult, we have other things to worry about. Besides they won’t be able to find us now. And for your information we aren’t ‘crawling around aimlessly.’ I happen to have a general idea of where the statue is located. We just have to find it and drop down from the vent. There will be a cover over the room somewhere, we just have to find the right room and hope Sumpter is still busy with his guests.”

Liz made a disbelieving noise, crossing over a patch of light that broke through the smalley quartered tube, continuing on her way without a second thought. She was stopped however, as Raymond yanked on the train of her dress, grabbing it before it receded from around his broad-set shoulders. She was stopped with a lurch, her ass smashing into Red’s chest. They both blushed, jumping apart and mumbling words of apology.

“Why did you stop?” Liz whisper yelled, trying to hide her fluster with anger.

“Sorry, I just,” Red squinted into the light of the room below them, “I’m pretty sure that this is the room.”

Red reached behind him then, grabbing a small candy-apple red Swiss Army Knife, then began unscrewing the vent cover that stood between them.

The cover swung open, just barely large enough for Red to fit through. He lowered himself down carefully, his biceps bulging against the confining material of the tux as he controllably hung himself from the ceiling. He soon dropped to an open section of floor in front of a large desk, a rug doing nothing to soften his touch down. He landed a little funny on his shoulder, grimacing as he stood and wiped the sheets of dust off his suit.

“You alright?” She called down quietly, noticing his face as he rubbed the offending shoulder.

“Just peachy.” He mumbled, pushing the cherry wood office desk to be positioned below the vent. He took his arm and ran it across the surface, papers and pens falling to the floor as he cleared off the wood.

Liz took the train and lowered it down beneath her, then did the same as he did, her heels discarded off to the side as her bare feet touched down on the desk effortlessly. He watched her as she did so, the sleeveless dress doing nothing to hide her toned upper body as it flexed.

He grabbed her pair of sparkling red stilettos and rushed back to hold a hand out to her as she stepped down, ever the gentleman even as he knew she needed no help from him.

They stood in front of each other, covered in dust, sweat, and thousand dollar clothing.

Red gave a small smile, like a boy on his first date.

Liz softened as she looked at his shoulder, her arm drifting up to gently touch it.

“You sure you’re ok?” She mumbled, gingerly rubbing it.

“Just fine Lizzie. Thank you. Now let’s go find our statue.”

He handed her shoes back to her, providing his good shoulder to help her balance as she slipped them back on.

They turned and checked an adjacent door, the dark room looking much like a storage closet, clutter strung everywhere.

Red smirked at what he saw in the dark. He strutted in without a word, squatting down to the base of the large, lion shaped marble statue.

Liz trailed after Red as she closed and locked the door behind her, realizing there was a small bronze plaque at the bottom of the statue. The print was tiny, in a foreign language no less.

It read “Арслан бүх зүйлийг нуудаг.”

“The lion hides all.” Red translated. And at her look of skepticism he clarified defensively, “Mongolian.”

He took out his Swiss Army Knife again, unscrewing the plaque. She sat down next to him, leaning in closely to him in the dark. Catching a whiff of his cologne.

“What are you doing?” She questioned curiously, softly whispering in his ear.

“The paper we need, with the information on where the gun deposit is located is taped to the back of this plaque. They’ve been transporting the statue back and forth on merchant liners, using it as a vessel for their communica-”

A large banging sound came from behind them in the other room, followed by a loud, “Sweep the area for them! They’re in one of these rooms!”

They went radio silent, looking at each other wide eyed in the dark. Red didn’t bother picking the paper off the backing of the plaque, instead opting for just stuffing the entire hunk of metal in his suit coat as he hurriedly stood.

“What’s our exit plan?” Liz asked worriedly as she watched Red scan around the room. His deer in the headlights look finally came to a rest on her face as he echoed a little sheepishly, mumbling quietly as if he was trying out the words on his tongue, “our exit plan?”

“Oh my god we’re going to die!” Liz whisper yelled through gritted teeth, grabbing his collar and shaking him a little. She let go with a flourish, looking around as he was.

“Ok, ok. We’re gonna be fine we just need someway….” He trailed off, running a hand over the back of his neck. The walked to a small corner of the room, finding their salvation.

“A window!” They said simultaneously, locking eyes and communicating like they sometimes do, both knowing the plan without needing to speak it a loud.

Another bang came from behind them, but this time it was much closer as the door that separated them from certain death shuttered behind them.

They gave a silent nod again, both moving to begin pushing the large chunk of marble to block the door as Liz kicked off her heels by the window again. They moved the bulking rock just in time as the lock gave way and the door swung open just enough to allow someone’s arm to poke through the slit.

They stood back once the door was sufficiently blocked, Red handing Liz a baseball he found sitting in an opened storage container with a name tattooed on its surface in sharpie, some famous players signature.

She threw it at the window and turned away as it shattered. Red waltzed up to it, gripping his jacket in hand before holding it to the sill and wiping all the jagged shards out of the way. He grabbed her shoes from their place, throwing them out the window to the lawn below them.

The second story floor drop wasn’t by any means a picnic, but a conveniently placed hedge perched on the back lawn below the windows edge offered enough support for Liz as she came drifting down, the fabric of her dress rippling around her as she was suspended in nothing.

Red waited for her to remove the fabric from the various twigs and branches it caught on before jumping down himself, this time managing to save his shoulder from a hard whack.

Red grabbed her shoes for her again with one hand, the other finding it’s way into Lizzies as they ran together out to the street, dodging guests and various platters of drinks and finger food as they made their way to Dembe who thankfully was circling the block just in front of them.

They jumped in the moving car, Sumpter and his goons not far behind as Dembe hit the gas and sped off.

They took a moment panting in the back seat, still hand in hand, before looking up at each other with a toothy grin.

Liz’s beautiful dress that Red had provided was in shreds, and Reds tux had more than a few rips in it as well. But at that moment nothing seemed more perfect and beautiful than the other.

Liz gave a small giggle of disbelief as she plopped her forehead down to Reds shoulder. Red did the same as he stacked his head atop hers, his eyes drifting comfortably closed as he beamed. Liz gave his hand a little squeeze, relief settling over them in the backseat of the Mercedes.

“See? I told you we would be fine. No need to question the process.” He jested, trying his best to sound indignant.

“Raymond,” She said, curling into his side, “There will never be a scheme in your life where I don’t even slightly question you.” She grabbed his face and kissed him then, the upturn of her mouth matching his exactly.

#Elizabeth keen #raymond reddington #lizzington #the blavkoist is not my canon #the blacklist #prompt list #ask box prompts #my robot heart #mine

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

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Hello! I’d like to request an imagine with Abby and a female reader, I was thinking something like they’re both on a mission and lose (not death) eachother because of how hectic everything is

(image reference by @cloudyreality)

What a great idea for my first time writing angst! Thank you for your request 💌

This is a 3.7k fic in which the reader and other members of the Salt Lake Crew are called out on a rescue mission and things get chaotic.

Warnings: language, violence (against reader and others), mention of attempted sexual assault, death (no major character)

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Archive of Our Own

A Close Call

You were ripped from your sleep by a firm hand shaking your shoulder. When you opened your eyes, Manny’s bearded face was inches from yours. It was still dark outside, the only light in the room creeping inside through the cracked door to the hallway.

“Get up, Y/N, we need you.”

You rose with a start, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing some clothes to put on.

“A mission? Right now? What’s going on?”

Manny filled up your water bottle and brought you another few supplies while you packed your bag.

“Scar attack during a patrol run. Owen just came back alone, Jordan and Leah are still out there. Jordan got hit, I don’t know how bad it is but we gotta get them out of there immediately.”

Quickly slipping on your boots and grabbing your jacket, you followed Manny out the door and to the garage.

Nora and Abby came in at the same time, carrying a metal box with medical supplies. Abby’s face was still pale from sleep but her eyes were alert and focused. Owen was standing at the back of a truck and marking the way to the others on a map of the city center. When he turned around, you flinched. He looked awful. His eyes were sunken in and there was no color in his face except for a dark purple bruise on his cheekbone. Yet, as he spoke, he sounded calm and collected, ready to get this mission done and bring everyone back safely.

“Alright, I left them at this bank here. The rain these last days has made the rivers downtown much more dangerous, I just tried to map out the best way with the Jeep but be prepared to continue on foot if needed. Jordan took an arrow to the hip and it somehow paralyzed his leg, we couldn’t get him out of there alone.

I need us to always stay together in a tight group, watch all possible hiding spaces for Scars, and get in the bank as fast as possible. Then, Nora has to try and patch him up as much as possible so we can take him back to the truck. Manny and I will carry him. I need you” - he looked at Abby and you - “and Leah to protect us and Nora on the way. Be as quiet as possible. Understood?”

You all agreed and Owen jumped in the driver’s seat while Manny sat next to him with the map to navigate. Abby lifted the metal trunk in the back of the truck and helped Nora up.

“You okay, Y/N? I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”

You tried a smile. “Thanks, Abby, I’m alright. Just cold and tired, I hope this works out as planned.”

She helped you up as well, then she jumped on and closed the tailgate, sitting down next to you and putting an arm around you to keep you warm. No one spoke, but as you leaned closer into Abby, Nora gave you a slight smile and a nod. You were going to be okay.

As expected, the flooding in the city was worse than usual, but at least the rain had stopped and the moon guided your way. You could already see the building Jordan and Leah were hopefully safe in at the moment when Owen suddenly stopped the car.

You stood up to see what was going on and swallowed hard as you saw the scene in front of you: rapids had formed in the river and were brutally ripping down plants and taking other objects with them. You had to get to the other side and, even more difficult, get back with the injured Jordan.

Everyone began moving silently down the stream, weapons drawn and forming a circle around Nora and her medical kit. When you finally found a more or less safe spot to cross, Owen and Manny went first, testing out the rocks and debris that had been wedged into each other to form a momentarily stable bridge over the rapids. Nora went next, silently jumping from step to step and keeping an impressive balance and smoothness to her movements. Abby covered you as you quickly crossed the stream and quickly followed your steps, placing her hand on the small of your back reassuringly as your team rebuilt its tight formation and started moving through the shadows towards the abandoned bank.

Owen led you to a side entrance he had covered with some wooden planks and the five of you quickly slipped inside. You were all on the lookout for infected but the place seemed clear, the rings of your flashlights illuminating the counters and smashed glass fronts, rotting bills of old money on the floor and finally the door to the back room where you could hear quiet voices.

Leah jumped up and drew her gun as Owen entered. A wave of relief washed over her face when she recognized Owen and Nora, the medic rushing to the injured man on the floor beside the dark-haired soldier.

“Oh thank god you’re here! I was so scared you didn’t make it to the base.”

Jordan was conscious but badly hit. An arrow was protruding from the top of his right leg right at the hip joint and a small pool of blood had formed on the floor underneath. Manny sat down next to Nora and helped her sort out her supplies. He loosened the makeshift bandage Leah had made out of some old fabric and tied around Jordan’s leg and hips. Nora was Isaac‘s best medic and she proved her reputation now. Completely calm and collected, she clipped off the arrow and started to strategically fasten bandages around Jordan‘s torso.

„I can’t take the arrowhead out here, it’s probably damaged some nerves, and pulling it out could make it worse. You need surgery back at the base. Can someone get me more fabric and something to make a splint?“

Leah quickly got some towels from a cupboard and started cutting it into stripes while Owen took his axe to some shelves and brought back a few long, slim pieces of wood.

You knelt down and helped stabilize the wounded wolf as Nora began fastening the wooden splints to Jordan‘s leg and hip, forcing him to stay completely straightened out so he wouldn’t fall or bend over and increase the damage to his hip.

Jordan would be carried upright, supported by Owen and Manny and using his healthy leg to move with them. A stretcher would make a bigger target and immobilize those who carried it; you were still in a war zone.

You helped Nora pack her things while the men got into position and Leah and Abby discussed the best defensive formation for the way back. Abby was going to go first and keep an eye out for any movements, then the three men, then Nora and Leah in case Jordan needed help, and finally you to watch your backs.

At the front door, you took a final breath and braced yourselves, then Abby gave the signal to move. The first steps went better than expected. You were moving fast, the only sound being Jordan’s quiet panting as he gave his last bit of strength to get back to the truck.

When you were almost at the crossover, you noticed something in a first-story window across the river. The woman clad in beige and brown saw you at the same moment. She pulled out an arrow from behind her head in one swift motion and cocked her crossbow just as you screamed „Get down!!! Ambush!“

Suddenly there was movement. You ducked and the arrow intended for your head soared over your shoulder so closely you could hear the feathers on it whispering in your ear.

Hooded figures emerged behind pillars and burned-out cars just as you pulled your gun and shot at the woman in the window. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, then her head tipped back and she vanished from sight.

There was no time for shock, you had to protect yourself and your team. Abby was fighting a large man with a giant hammer, but you could tell she would be fine. Jordan had slung his arms over Owen‘s shoulders from the back and held on so he would stay standing up while Owen had his hands free. He was shooting at Scars further away while Manny was dealing deadly blows to a younger man‘s head with a metal pipe. Leah was covering Nora with a shotgun and blasting away through the empty car windows. You stepped out from the shelter of the house front and scanned the other buildings for more archers, ignoring the screams of anger and pain around you. Protect the squad. Watch your backs.

The man Abby had fought was lying in a puddle of his own blood. She was further away from you now and fighting two younger scars at once. One of them slashed her arm with a knife and she howled out in rage. Your first instinct was to scream out her name but you stopped yourself. It would distract her and allow the scar couple to catch her off guard. She was furious, pulling two knives and lunging forward at her attackers. They stood no chance, red hot blood spilling from both their throats as they looked at each other with an expression that seemed surprised, but not scared. They staggered towards each other and fell to the ground, choking and wheezing before finally laying still.

Abby had already moved on to help Owen fight a man with an axe that had come dangerously close while he had to take a second to reload.

Suddenly a rush of panic made you whirl around and look up. An older man with a bow almost as tall as him was standing on a first-floor balcony, aiming directly at you. You pointed and shot exactly at the same time he let go of the arrow.

Too slow. You watched the arrow come towards you in slow motion, undeviating from its owner's last target. Your attempt to dodge the sharp silver dart came too late. The tip sank into your shoulder as you watched the man fall forward and hit the ground with a dull thump.

The others hadn’t noticed what had happened. Leah was fighting back to back with Manny, Nora was crouching behind her trunk and shooting at a woman running towards her, Owen was holding up Jordan behind a pillar and shooting at several scars still behind the cars and Abby was in another bloody fight with two men with a hammer and a knife.

Your shoulder didn’t hurt at all. It just felt like someone was pushing you back, trying to tip you over. Stumbling backward, you scanned the buildings trying to find other scars on higher ground before they could hurt your friends. A sense of calm waved over you. You had done your job, there were no other Seraphites hidden to attack from behind. The gun in your hand dropped to the ground, the metal clank strangely loud in front of the fighting noise.

As you fell backward, you could hear the rushing of water underneath you. The rapids were screaming at you, daring you to take up a fight with them and lose as so many others had before. The surface felt like a brick wall when you hit it, then the current pulled you under. The water was ice cold, thousands of needles pricking you at once and suddenly there it was. Agonizing pain. Your shoulder felt like a fire had been lit inside of it and it was burning your lungs from the inside, eating you up and leaving no room for anything else. You let out a terrified scream that was swallowed by the water around you.

You needed to get to the surface. Breathe in air before your lungs could fill with water. You kicked and thrashed about, trying to find your way back up without moving your wounded arm. Finally, you burst through and gasped for air, your functioning hand desperately grabbing on to plants and scraps of metal at the water’s edge. How far had the water carried you already? Were the others ever going to find you?

You managed to hold on to a branch and pull yourself onto the riverbank, the water relentlessly continuing to pull and tear at your feet. Your teeth were chattering and you couldn’t feel your hands and feet, breathing becoming the hardest task this day had given you.

„It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re just going into shock, it’s okay, they’ll find you, just breathe,“ you kept whispering to yourself as you lay on your back and closed your eyes.

You could hear shots echoing from the walls of the buildings and screaming; they couldn’t be far. After a last, deafening shot, there was silence. Owen was talking, he sounded exhausted but okay. Apparently, no one had gotten badly hurt. Suddenly you could hear Abby screaming.

„Y/N?! Y/N!!! Where are you?!“

You had never heard her this distraught before. Her voice was cracking and her yelling was high-pitched and panicked. Now everyone was screaming your name and running around. You tried to take a deep breath and answer but only produced a gurgling sound.

„Y/N?! Fuck, check if she was pulled behind one of the cars or into the building. Did these pendejos take her?“ That was Manny. He was close.

„Abby, come here! Her gun!“

Someone was running. Metal scraping over concrete. „Y/N!!! Are you down there? Fuck, you think she fell in? The rapids, oh god-“

It sounded like Abby was close to crying now, screaming and pleading your name as she ran along the river.

„She’s not in here, I checked.“ That was Leah. „Shit, did she fall in the stream?“

„I don’t know, her gun was next to it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, please let her be okay. Do you guys see anything in the water?“ The usually so collected and strong soldier sounded absolutely terrified.

You tried to answer again. It was only a whisper, but you kept going.

„Abby, I’m here. Please come. Abby.“

Your whisper became a mumble, your raspy voice refusing to work with you, but you concentrated and tried again.

The steps were close. You took a deep breath. „Abby.“

„Y/N?!“

A blonde-haired head peeked over the broken off concrete over your head. Abby looked horrible, tears leaving white streaks in a mixture of blood and dirt on her pale skin, her lip cut open and bleeding and strands of hair sticking to the drying blood on her face and neck. When she saw you however, her face lit up and she screamed out „She’s here! Come quick!“

With a single jump she was next to you, pulling your upper body onto her knees and lifting your head so you could breathe better. Manny and Nora were there in a heartbeat. The dark-skinned woman pressed a hand to your shoulder and raised her eyebrows.

„Another arrow? Jesus Christ. Y/N, listen to me, you’re gonna be fine. I’m going to get that thing out of you as soon as we’re back at the stadium. I'll patch you up a bit now, but we really need to get moving."

„That’s okay,“ you whispered. „I’m just so cold.“

Abby immediately took off her jacket. Nora stopped her.

„Wait, let’s get that wet jacket off first. We’re gonna have to cut her out of her clothes anyway.“

She grabbed a knife and quickly freed you from your soaked, ice-cold army jacket, then she cut off the long arrow a few inches from the entrance wound. The medic was quick to press some bandages around the wound and form a sling out of strips of fabric to fixate your arm to your chest. When she was done, Manny helped prop you up and wrap you into Abby‘s jacket. It was coated in blood, but still warm and most importantly, it was dry.

„Everything okay down there? How long until we can move?“ Owen yelled.

Nora closed her metal case. „We’re done for now. You can start moving Jordan to the crossover, we’ll be right with you!“

Abby gently pushed her arms under your body and pulled you towards her. You wrapped your healthy arm around her neck and she followed Manny and Nora back up to the others.

„I thought I’d lost you.“ Her voice was quiet, her eyes still alarmed and scanning the perimeter. You sank your head against her chest and found comfort in her warmth.

„I know, me too. I thought I’d drown.“

The blonde inhaled sharply and held you tighter, not able to look you in the eye.

„I should have paid more attention to you and protected you. I'm so sorry.“

Before you could reply, you had reached the stepping stones through the water. Leah, Owen and Manny were helping each other carry Jordan over to the other side, deeply focused but still on edge for any possible attackers. Nora was next, pressing her medical kit to her chest and hopping from one safe step to another in concentration. You and Abby went last. She carried you like it was nothing, never losing her balance in the slightest while Manny and Leah were watching the area attentively with their guns drawn.

When you finally got to the Jeep, the others made a bed of blankets in the back for Jordan and you. Leah sat cross-legged with her boyfriend's head in her lap and Abby lifted you up on the platform next to him. She climbed up and pulled you close to her again while the others got on, still on guard. Owen and Manny jumped in the front and Owen hit the gas.

He was driving as fast as possible without throwing you two around in the back. Nora was already preparing Jordan for surgery, he would be the first in the operating room. Manny tried to radio the stadium entrance so they would get everything ready for your arrival but had had no luck so far.

Abby was rocking back and forth slightly, softly caressing your hair and face with her rough, bloody fingers. The terror in her eyes still hadn’t subsided, she was staring through you and chewing on her bottom lip.

„Abby.“ It took all your strength to form the words that were fighting to get out. „This wasn’t your fault. We all did the best we could. It’ll be okay.“

She flinched and looked up, letting her eyes wander over the buildings around you.

„I should have watched your back. I didn’t even see you fall.“

Her eyes were glinting, tears dangerously close to following the paths that had been carved out for them earlier. You put your healthy hand over the soldier's and were surprised to find she was shaking.

„Listen to me, Abigail. I don’t blame you for any of this. If you need my forgiveness, you have it. I know you did all you could. Will you please forgive yourself, too?“

Her mouth became a harsh line as she wiped away the tears with the wrist of her free hand. She turned her head and raised a hand, probably to greet the wolves at the entrance to the base. You knew you wouldn’t get anything else out of her.

Abby had this habit of making everything her problem, her responsibility, or, in the worst case, her fault. It had been that way when those men from the outpost had followed you one night after drinking too much a year ago. You had watched a movie with Abby and Manny in their room and walked back to yours when the hunters emerged from the cafeteria. They had come on to you from the back and tried to hold you down but they didn’t know you and weren’t expecting you to be a trained fighter. You brought them up to speed in less than a minute and they were out cold long enough for you to get Isaac, Abby, and a few other soldiers to be there when they woke up. Isaac had them thrown in his prison wing and you hadn’t seen them since. He probably tested out some tactical ideas on them and you didn’t mind one bit.

Abby however had been inconsolable. She didn’t speak for a week after, infuriated with herself and convinced the attack was her fault as she should have walked you back to your room and watched your back. You had tried to get her to calm down and let it go for weeks, telling her over and over that nothing had happened and you could take care of yourself. She had probably never really gotten over it, even though she had slowly become her normal self again.

This had to be a hundred times worse. You had actually gotten hurt today, and none of it was Abby’s fault but you knew there was nothing you could say. So you just held her hand and pressed yourself closer to her body, closing your eyes and waiting to arrive at the medical tract.

Luckily people were already waiting for you, instantly carrying Jordan inside on a stretcher and offering you one, too. Abby just told them to get out of her way as she carried you in the second operating room and laid you down on the cold table.

“I’ll stay right here all the way through, I’m not leaving. You just keep breathing.”

The pain and disappointment in her flat voice were heartbreaking. You squeezed her hand and nodded. “Thank you, Abby. I’ll give my best.”

When the medics came in to get you prepped for surgery and put you under a light anesthetic, you were almost asleep anyway. Abby cleared the space for them but stayed in the corner of the room like a statue, grinding her teeth in thought as she stared at the table beneath you.

You knew you had to make this right somehow, you couldn’t let Abby beat herself up over this forever. As you drifted into a sedated sleep, you promised yourself to spend every day at Abby’s side until she was laughing again. This woman was everything to you and you would show her. You would love her so much she had to finally forgive herself and let go of all the regret to make way for better things.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #the last of us 2 #abby tlou #abby simp society #abby anderson fic #abigail anderson #angst

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ethanharli · 4 years

Text

Requested: 😘 i want to request, Reader is Eggsy ex-boyfriend (I guess) because Eggsy suddenly dissapear (coz his job being a spy) and no contact at all. One day reader see wounded Eggsy chased by some guy(VILLAIN) and reader help him to hide. And maybe some couple argument then room become heated and they can't help to touch each other lmao. Maybe some rough or kink to reminisce their relationship? Well anything is fine 😙

Pairing(s): Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Slight Angst (but mostly fluff), Slight Arguing, Nfsw/Smutt, Kinda rough, Definitely biting, Couch sex, Begging.

A/n- I have never seen Kingsman and I have no idea if it takes place in a city (cause that's what I did and I realized it right when I finished it). And I'm sorry if this is bad :"(

___________________________________

Pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket I looked at the night sky, letting out a long drawn out breath, just to watch it blow away in the cold air. I always made it a habit to go on cool night walks, but they always feel lonelier then they used to, mostly cause I used to go on these walks with my ex-lover. It's been about two, maybe three years since he disappeared, just up and left with no way to get in contact with him, and I've slowly made peace with the fact I might not ever get to see him again, so all I can do is hope that where ever he is, he's okay. Taking a deep breath I headed down the sidewalk, trying to avoid the people that walked by, but out the corner of my eye I spotted two people running on the other side of the street, and I couldn't help but feel like one of them seemed familiar.

Looking down the side walk and back towards were I saw them, I didn't know what to do, on one hand I wanted to see what was going on but on the other I just wanted to head home. "Fuck it" After a moment of thinking it over I quickly crossed the street, making my way down the path they had ran, cursing once again when I found a gate blocking my way. Ripping off my jacket I let it fall to the ground before gripping onto the gate and swiftly pushing myself over it, hitting the ground on the other side with a soft thud. A small huff slipped past my lips as I saw only two paths, both left and right, most noise and footsteps coming from the left so I headed towards the right, "If I'm quick enough I might be able to get there before them."

Picking up the pace I quickly darted around the corners, using my security guard training as a way to keep a steady breath and cut corners. Finally making it to a clearing I saw the street was bustling with people, so taking a deep breath I headed to the other side of the alley, seeing the two quickly heading this way. So pressing my back to the other side of the wall I hid from their vision, quickly grabbing the arm of the one being chased as he came out of the alley and pulling him to the side. "What the-" I didn't let him continue as I dragged him into the crowd, watching as the other person let out a frustrated huff, scanning around on last time before walking away.

"[Y/n]?" I instantly turned at the call of my name, about to question how they knew it until my eyes meet a familiar blue pair. "Eggsy.." My breath caught in my throat as I looked at him, his brown hair obviously slick with gel but slowly starting to fall in front of his face, lips slightly parted as he panted for breath, but his eyes had me captivated, as they always did and I didn't know how to feel, torn between hugging him or yelling at him. Yet, once I heard a soft hiss slip past his lips as he gripped his side I pushed my feelings away and gently rested my hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the crowd, "Let's get you patched up." We didn't speak much on the way towards my apartment, he mostly sent awkward glances my way but I was to stuck in my own head to really care.

So when we arrived I made sure to check around making sure we weren't followed before I got him inside and settled him on a chair in the living room. "Take your shirt off, I need to look at the wound" I spoke bluntly, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's him, that he's here, after three long, painful years of nothing, he's finally here. Shaking my head I pulled out a first aid kit from the top cupboard, making sure to take a seat in front of the injured male, while trying to make sure my eyes didn't wander over his bare torso. Yet I immediately spotted the medium sized bruise on his side, it was a nasty shade of dark purple and I could tell it'll last for a long while, so, I went to work.

Five minutes, it took five minutes of him staring at me and gently pressing a heated pad to his side for him to finally say something. "You're still here? You always talked about moving, you worked hard so you could" His tone was soft and steady, but hesitant and I can't really blame him for that. Fidgeting every so often under my touch, trying to relax against the chair as I tapped my foot against the wooden floor, "Yeah well, that was before my boyfriend just up and disappeared out of no where." I didn't mean for the words to come out so harsh, but I couldn't deny the anger that slowly bubbled up within me. All the pent up anger and frustration over the years that I tried so hard to forget about, coming crashing back in one big tidal wave.

"[Y/n], I'm sorry I-"

"You're sorry?"

My eyes narrowed as I glared at him, trying my best to keep my anger under wraps as I grit my teeth together, "You left! Do you know how hard it was to know I went to sleep with you in my arms, thinking everything was alright, that we were alright, only to wake up with you gone." My body tensed at the memory of that night, remembering how we laughed and kissed, like there wasn't a thing wrong in the world and it was just us two. Going to bed with him in my arms, and telling each other 'I love you,' only to wake up alone, with all his stuff gone as well, "[Y/n] I had no choice." Something in me seemed to snap as I quickly stood from my seat, the hand that kept the warm pack on his side tensing slightly, as I leaned over him, not caring about the close proximity when I rested my hand on the back of the chair, trapping him between it and myself.

"No choice? You could've told me you were leaving! I spent three years- three long agonizing years thinking you left cause you didn't want to be with me anymore! And if that were the case then why not just fucking tell me?!" I couldn't stop the sudden rise of my voice, glaring into his blue eyes as I brought myself closer to him, making sure to keep eye contact even if we were only a few inches apart. Letting out a heavy breath I ignored the heat rising in his cheeks as I pressed forward, "I spent countless nights looking for you! Wondering where the hell you could've gone, and wondering if you were alright, cause I was scared shitless!" Tears slowly gathered in my eyes as I looked at him, feeling my heart ache in my chest, not feeling the way his hands rested on my arms.

"I was told to give up, I was told to accept the reality that you were probably dead, but I couldn't- I couldn't because I lo-!" My eyes widened when he pulled me down into a desperate kiss that I couldn't help but sink into, letting my eyes flutter shut as I brought my hand to the back of his head, running my fingers through the soft brown strands as our lips slid together perfectly, and I couldn't help but remember those countless nights we shared before as I dragged my tongue along his lower lip, shyly brushing our tongues together when he finally granted me access. However my hands traveled beneath his thighs, making sure not to touch his bruise as I hoisted him up and moved us towards the couch, pressing his bare back against the couch cushions before I peeled off my shirt and threw it to the side. I practically drank in the sight of him, a rosey red blush coated his cheeks and dusted lightly over his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as he panted softly, "Absolutely stunning, every god damn inch of you."

His blush only seemed to deepen from my words, while our noses bumped together slightly as he quickly pulled me back down into a feverish kiss, my hands trailing over his torso, rolling my thumbs over his nipples, forcing a high pitched whimper past his throat that had my cock throbbing from the sound of it. "Good to know you're still sensitive here" A sly smirk was brought to my face as I leaned towards his neck, dragging my tongue up his heated skin before I chuckled softly and bit down, "Ngh!" His pleasured grunts and roll of his hips against my own encouraged me to continue, making sure to litter his neck and shoulders with multiple love bites, as my thumbs continued to toy with his perky buds. "F-Fuck, [Y/n] please.." Sitting up I adjusted myself between his legs, drawing my tongue over my upper lip as I looked down at him, "C'mon baby, you know what to do" He narrowed his eyes at me in slight irritation but he knew as well I did that he enjoys it. So propping himself up against the armrest he looked me in the eyes as he unbuckled his pants, "Please [Y/n].. I need you, I need to feel you," He panted softly, beginning to slide out of his jeans and boxers, "Please, fill me up."

The mere sight of him nearly had me choking, and I hadn't realized just how much I missed the feeling of him beneath me, the feeling of him pressed against me. In a quick motion I brought my fingers to my lips, coating them in my saliva before moving them between his legs and positioning my middle finger at his entrance, "You ready sweetheart?" Watching him nod I let out a drawn breath before slowly pressing my finger inside him, watching him squirm a bit and I couldn't help but notice how tight he is.

"Let me kn-"

"Move."

His breathy moan caught me a bit off guard, but I was happy to comply and started to thrust my finger at an even pace, letting my lips continue to explore the unmarked places of his neck before sliding in another finger, "Ngh, Fuck" His moans only spurred me on and I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortably tight my pants have gotten. "Please just- just put it in [Y/n] please!" With a low chuckle I nodded my head, pulling my fingers out of him so that I could take off my own jeans and boxer briefs, then position my tip at his entrance, slowly pushing inside of him and shuddering at the feeling of his tight walls around me. "Fuck! Y-You can move" Letting out a soft pant I slowly rocked my hips, letting us both adjust until I quickened my pace, searching for a certain spot I had memorized years ago.

His nails dug in and raked down my back, letting out a broken shuddering moan that let me know I had found it, "There! Shit-" He groaned out as I made sure to hit that spot, raising my hand to gently wipe away the tears that gathered in his eyes before capturing his lips with my own, feeling his hips jerk when my other hand made it's way to his throbbing cock, causing my core to sting when he moaned into my ear, "I-Im gonna cum" He hissed softly, now rocking his hips with my own. "Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me" I spoke huskily, running my thumb over his tip while hitting his prostate dead on. Causing his body to shudder and tense beneath me, cumming into my hand as I speeded up my thrusts, hearing his breath hitch in his throat, "In or out?" I asked through clenched teeth, feeling him wrap his legs tightly around my waist, "In."

So with a quick thrust I came inside him, letting out hard batted pants that mixed with his own, and I couldn't help but lay on his chest, cuddling into him like I had done many times in the past, loving the feeling of his fingers running through my hair, I was tired, we both were, but I was scared to fall asleep, "Eggsy.." I spoke softly, looking up into his eyes as he smiled back at me, "Yes?"

"Please be here when I wake up.."

"I will, I promise."

And to my surprise, he was.

#kingsman #x male reader #x seme male reader #eggsy x reader #eggsy x male reader #eggsy x top male reader #eggsy x seme male reader #eggsy x dom male reader #kingsman eggsy

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

Text

We Sold Our Souls | 001: Beca

Summary: A small-town rock band continues to play even smaller venues well past high school graduation. Aubrey, Beca, Emily, and Chloe struggle with newfound fame and the long bloody road to get there.

[Based off of "We Sold Our Souls" By Grady Hendrix"]

Read on AO3 | Dt to the amazing @ifionlyhadmorepaper

Beca’s fingers were split and callused where Chloe’s were warm and protected. They were covered in bandages of all shapes and sizes, little adhesive papers that browned at the edges from dirt or from blood that hadn’t been dabbed away. They were wrapped, lacerated where she had pressed too hard on the velvet cords of her guitar. Beca Mitchell would play until rustic oozing syrup covered the face of the instrument.

They stung, sometimes, but right now she leaned into the numbness that the temperature in the office provided. She wanted to spread them in an equal motion over the glass of the desk so each finger lined up with a toe in her Doc Martins. Instead, she placed them calmly in her lap and stared at the silver pen that rested next to the contract.

She picked silently at the ace bandage that she had strategically wrapped around her pinky finger. It had been the newest slice; a wound still fresh to the sterile room. She was sure it would drip one, maybe two drops of red on the white linoleum.

Beca glanced up from the writing utensil and saw nothing but a suit, a slate and dull grey that blended perfectly with the rest of the room. There were no photos on the wall, nothing but a bland black leather sofa and a glass coffee table that matched the same desk they sat at now. She wanted to look through the floor to ceiling windows but saw nothing but white. Everything was white.

She was the darkest thing in the room.

Her boot tapped against, a low and thumbed rhythm. She waited for him to say something, to say anything. But she realized quickly that he may be darker than her. She could stare into the abyss that was his face, into the shadow but it would mean nothing. There were no defining features other than a crisp, business-like smile.

She had switched from pulling at the dressing of her wounds to picking at the frayed edges of her black jean jacket, littered with patches and permanent marker. Beca traced a signature that Chloe had drawn on one drunken night.

They had popped a bottle of champagne and the bubbles made the cuts on her fingers burn something fierce. But she let the golden liquid slosh onto the carpet of the hotel room, and bubble up in her throat until she couldn’t quite hold it between her lips anymore. Chloe kissed her and she tasted like weed and cherry.

It was the first night that their song was played on the radio.

The four of them huddled around a radio, its antenna stretched to the ceiling of that dingy room. The lights buzzed as much as the static, and it was close to three am; too late for the bar handlers to be heading home, and too early for the suits to be warming up their cars. But they played it- they played it.

They could quite possibly be the only four people in the entire world to hear the first song from the DEMO that Beca slid under the studio door.

When she leaned forward, the leather her pants made an ungodly noise. She didn’t’ want to read through the stack bound with a thick black clip. The first page was highlighted where she needed to initial and bolded at the most important parts; the parts that distracted her from what really mattered.

Her father was a stockbroker before he was dead, and he would tell her every single time he brought home a new contract, that they make the glittery things darker. That’s not what she was supposed to read; she was supposed to look at the little pieces of text that had stars next to them. People liked to trick you with shiny things.

Beca moved her finger across the large stack; the paper was cool to the touch and caught on the adhesive of her ace bandage. “What exactly are you offering me here?”

Summer 1985

It took her four whole months to save up for the old white Charvel that sat at the back of Shawl's pawn shop. There were bars strapped across the windows and an ugly neon orange sign that let Beca know when they were closed and when they weren’t. She would cling to those bars when old man Shawl would tell her to buy something or get the fuck out.

He stared at her even harder when she emptied the shoebox of change and crumpled up bills stained with sweat and sticky substances onto the glass counter, but even he couldn’t turn down a profit. She waited for ages while his liver-spotted hands counted the money carefully. Then he pursed his lips and pulled the beat up guitar down from his perch above his shoulder.

In later years, Beca knew she didn’t have nearly enough, and she thanked him silently for taking pity on her and passing it over anyway. She was driving all of his customers, she reasoned, by sulking on the hot sidewalk in front of the shop, letting banana flavored popsicles drip onto her fingers until it was nothing but a stick left.

She had fastened the worn leather strap around her chest and straddled her jet red bicycle. Beca had never peddled so fast in her life. The Mid-August heat clung to every inch of her was humming with sweat by the time she skidded to a stop in front of her house. She let the bike drop and got an instant hit of relief when she crossed the threshold into the open garage.

Beca scooted past the dusty Monza that barely fit in front of the door leading into their kitchen. Her mother had bought it off a stranger that came into the diner back in 78’. There were questionable stains in the backseat and an odd scent of Clorox that they could never get rid of. But it ran back and forth, and that’s all they needed.

She pulled open the honey blossom fridge and grabbed the closest thing they had to a cool drink. Beca drank tang straight from the pitcher, letting it drip down her face and soak into the collar of her shirt. She was noisy when she drank, and oblivious to her mother watching her from the archway as she tied her apron around her waist.

“We have glasses, Bec’s”

Her mother didn’t’ comment on the guitar strapped to her back. She figured that her daughter had picked up another hobby. Last year it was basketball, and the year before that she begged and begged for a set of baseball cards from the local hobby shop. After they were shoved under her bed she was told to fund her ventures on her own.

Beca swallowed the last of the orange flavoring on her tongue and took a savoring breath to fill her burning lungs. She turned to the woman and smiled “That would just dirty two things instead of one. Besides, you don’t drink this anyway.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Her mother wrestled silently with the faux pearl earrings that matched the beaded necklace against her collarbone. The soft blue tone of her uniform washed out her skin and made her look pale despite the summer heat that lingered well into August.

Beca placed the glass decanter back into the bottom half of the fridge before she mock saluted her mother and wandered back out to the garage. Her skin instantly became slick with sweat. She pulled an empty milk crate a few inches from the line of the setting sun.

She finally pulled the old Charvel from her back and situated it in her arms. It was far from a perfect fit. She reached over the neck and felt the way the side dug into her ribs uncomfortably. The strings were frail and sounded rough as she dragged her thumb against them.

Beca had only learned the start of one song, the first few cords of Black Sabbath’s Tomorrows Dream. They had printed the cords on the back of the record sleeve, each specific note highlighted in a comically large dot. Beca would breathe in the dust of the garage and listen to the record on a constant loop, pressing her fingers down against the notes.

She took a deep breath and started to follow the instructions that she had completed a million times over. The strings were too tight and it sounded choppy, sharp, and thick all at once. She cringed at her half-hearted attempt and the way the cords cut so deeply into her fingertips they stung.

She ignored the old car pulling out of the garage, and the way she had to squint at the darkness after a while. There was still the sour taste of orange on her tongue and sweat dripped from her nose. But she played and played, and played until there was blood against the white face of the instrument and tears pinching at her eyes. It sounded somewhat like Black Sabbath.

“You like metal?”

Beca jerked her hand back quickly and drew in a sticky warm breath of air. She had been so wrapped up in her task that she hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone anymore. A girl stood in the dull light that leaked from the garage and into the pavement. She didn’t’ quite pass the threshold- instead, she lingered.

A certain chill had invaded the air and the girl folded into herself. Her wild mane of orange hair fell around her shoulders and ghostly blue eyes lit up optimistically at the sight of a guitar.

“Uh,”

“That’s a Charvel, right? I begged my parents for one last Christmas but they got me an acoustic instead. Hooked me up with lessons from Miss Jensen. I learned one country song and started pocketing the fifty bucks a week instead.”

“Yeah,” Beca swallowed hard “It’s a Charvel”

“That’s cool,” she rocked back and forth on the souls of her sneakers. The cold didn’t’ seem to get to her much anymore. Beca tried to place her. Her ears were ringing and her fingers hurt. The crickets were hissing their own song. “You go to Kennedy don’t you?”

“I’m second year”

“I’m third.” She beamed “I live right next door, I’ve seen you around.”

Beca lifted her chin; she had seen the girl around too. It usually followed loud screaming and slamming doors. She would sit on her stoop and stare at the way her cassette player would turn. Beca had seen her flip a tape four times once- still like a statue until the music stopped and hat to be reset.

“Listen, I uh- don’t want to intrude, but maybe we could play together sometime?”

“Yeah, I would like that.” She found herself saying, the orange drink in her system making her stomach churn. She nearly felt bad, felt a pang of sadness for the girl. “I’m Beca.”

“Hi, Beca. I’m Chloe.”

Winter 1994

Beca let the case fall shut a little too loudly. The acoustics on the small stage seemed to catch all the wrong things. She couldn’t get her voice to carry earlier in the night, but the fur-lined box that they housed their amp in bounced all the way to the entry of the little venue in Portland.

She blinked hard, trying to ignore the harsh red lights that covered every single inch of the place. There were bumper stickers covering the spotty paint of the walls and a bar that was more piss and peanut shells than anything. Emily gulped down warm beer and struggled to keep it down momentarily. She didn’t look up at the noise, her stare trained on a coaster, and the crumbs that lie next to it.

Beca leaned back on her heels and pulled in a thick breath. She smelled like sweat and blood and alcohol. Her little stunt had drawn the attention of Aubrey, the woman wrapping the cord to a different amp around her forearm and palm. She narrowed her unripe stare.

“This was fucking shit,”

“I’m doing my best”

They spoke at the same time. She knew that Aubrey’s anger was buzzing, it was festering until it finally burst. She looked pale under the red lights, the same tattoo they had all gotten two years ago stretched under her tank top and down to the gap between her jeans.

She knew what Aubrey was going to say. Her best wasn’t good enough, and it never was; they had been doing this for years, eight long years and they were still playing the shit-stink venues in even shittier towns. They barely had an audience tonight, and it had all been Beca’s fault. The whole room was thinking it, but no one had the balls to say it other than Aubrey.

Chloe moved from the corner of the room, “We’ll get a better place, Bree.”

“Yeah? When? I’m tired of giving my all to an audience that doesn’t’ fucking exist. We’re not kids anymore.”

“We’re shit broke.” Emily turned in the creaky barstool, swallowing the foam at the bottom of her glass. “I don’t even think we have gas in the van.”

“How much from this gig?” Chloe asked.

Her hair was matted with sweat and her thumb pulled at the chain around her neck. It was fastened with a marbled red pick, one from their first real venue ever. She had nervously wiped away the gold lettering and now the smooth plastic was all that was left. Beca hated disappointing her, and she did it often these days.

“Five hundred.”

“Five hundred? Beca that’s barely enough to cover the hotel rooms.” Aubrey let the wrapped cord fall back to the stage “We don’t break even on this. It’s not fucking worth it. It never was and it never is.”

They all knew what came next. Emily stared down a coaster she had begun to shred. The remaining foam on the glass culminated at the very bottom of the glass and she knew she couldn’t muster enough change to order another one. So she sat with the sour taste in her mouth and festered.

Aubrey would mention Julliard.

“I could have had everything.” She hissed instead.

Beca didn’t dignify it with a response. Instead, she leaned down and pulled the amp up with nothing more than a grunt. Instead, she walked out into the cold Portland air and let it make her skin tighter. She blinked away the red light and searched for the keys in her pockets. She had left them inside.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Emily Junk #Aubrey Posen #Junksen #band au #rocker au

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blahblahwritings · 4 years

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Patience is a Virtue.

A/N: Another request, I think this is the most consistent I’ve been with posts.

Request: Would you be willing to write a smut imagine for Matt Murdock? Maybe where the reader/his gf is a virgin?? And have it really fluffy at the end please??

Words: 2764.

Warnings: Smut. Virgin!Reader.

A year. You’d been with Matt Murdock for a year. He’d told you about his... alterego, so to speak before you had even entered the relationship, vowing never to let anything come between you. It took a little while to process it, I mean he was Blind, how did that even work? But, in the end you simply accepted it. Whenever he would come in, beaten and bloody, you would quietly fetch the first aid kit and do your best to patch him up. Those nights always ended in the two of you getting upset, not arguing, just full of soft kisses and teary words of affirmation.

You thought it only fair to disclose your own secret to him, but that came a bit further into the relationship, when things started getting a little heavier. Your make-out session had begun to turn to something more heated when you grabbed his hand, putting an end to it’s descent. When he cocked his head in question, listening to your heartbeat and sensing your anxiety, he pushed back asking you if everything was alright. That was when you’d confessed that you had never gone further than this and wanted to take it slow. Being a Catholic, he understood that people had their reasons and never pressed further, taking it only as far as you were happy with. He loved you dearly and would wait as long as it took until you were ready.

The anniversary, you thought, was the perfect opportunity to take that next step. You’d gone all out, buying soft scented candles that you knew wouldn’t agitate his nose, a trail of rose petals from the kitchen to the bedroom that he would hear crunch beneath his feet and even bought some new lingerie for the occasion. He was working a little later at the office tonight and you had decided to cook for the two of you, setting the table with a soft cloth and a bottle of room temperature red wine in the center. The sauce was bubbling away, the smell of tangy tomato and basil filling the apartment. The pasta was ready and you had begun to dish out as you heard the door click shut.

“What's all this?” He greeted, a lopsided grin sitting on his face. A small giggle left your painted lips, you knew he couldn’t see the deep red colour but it made you feel more confident. You wore a little black dress, complementing his suit and tie you saw him change into this morning. Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you poured the sauce over each plate.

“Happy anniversary, Mr Murdock.” You hummed, angling your head to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. A groan bubbled from his chest. “It smells incredible, sweetheart.” He praised and you laughed, shooing him to the table. You followed, placing the food at your respective seats and popping open the wine. Hearing him inhale as you poured the liquid, you glanced up to see him remove his glasses, revealing his beautiful brown eyes. Returning the bottle to the center, you picked up the glass and raised it in cheers. He gently clinked your cup with his own and sipped lightly, eyebrows raising at the taste.

“I don’t know much about wines but this is definitely expensive.” He chuckled. “You didn’t have to do all this.” Rolling your eyes you put the drink to the side. “I wanted to, you’ve been working hard at the firm lately and I wanted to do something for you. Besides, it's our first anniversary and I wanted to celebrate.” You finished with a shrug, moving to grab the cutlery. “Wait, I got you something. I want to give it to you before we eat.” He fumbled in his jacket pocket and procured a blue velvet box. He handed it to you across the table.

Opening it revealed a card with the words “My love for you is infinite” in shiny gold letters. Beyond the note lay a silver heart shaped pendant, an infinity symbol engraved into the front of it. An audible gasp passed your lips as you plucked it from its cushion.

“Matthew, wow, it’s gorgeous.” A hand covered your heart as you gently thumbed the metal. “Would you mind..” You asked sheepishly, wanting him to do the honours. Without hesitation, he stood, situating himself behind you as you handed him the jewellery. Brushing your hair to the side, his fingers ghosted the skin of your neck sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his hot breath fan over your shoulders as he clasped the necklace, the pendant lying comfortably between your collarbones.

You pulled him down by the tie for a kiss, thanking him for the gift and you returned to your meal, chatting about anything and everything.

Shortly after finishing, you piled the dishes by the sink, ignoring them for now and instead taking his hand, lightly tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. His brows furrowed for a moment as he felt the petals beneath his feet, trailing from the kitchen and past the living room.

“There's something else I wanted to do tonight, Matt.” You admitted quietly, nerves taking over. Opening the partition between the open space and the bedroom, you were both greeted with the soft scent of vanilla. Padding further in you turned to him, unsure of how to go about this. His eyebrows raised in understanding. Moving his hand to your forearm he rubbed the skin there to reassure you.

“I can hear your heartbeat, y/n, I know you’re anxious. You don’t have to do this for me if you’re not ready.” he spoke softly, cocking his head as his eyes looked through you, concern swirling in the irises. You wouldn’t let it get the better of you, though. “I am ready, I just- I don’t know how to uh- start.” At this he huffed out a small laugh, moving toward you. “Well, usually, it starts kind of like this.” He said, connecting your lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. Your hands drifted to his jaw, cupping it as you angled your face to deepen the kiss. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest and you sighed. As your lips parted, he traced your bottom lip with his tongue asking for permission, you answered by exploring his own mouth eagerly.

Fingers tangled in his hair making him groan and you smiled as you parted for air. A giddy chuckle escaped you as you saw his lips smudged with your lipstick. “That colour suits you, Mr Murdock.” You jeered, thumbing his bottom lip. An amused smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he dipped his head to kiss your palm. Moving in for another kiss, you tugged gently at the bottom of his shirt, tucked away into his pants. He reached to undo the first few buttons before you pulled it over his head, revealing his toned torso.

Breath hitched in the back of your throat as you looked at the hard muscle, scarred from the many fights he’d had. Its not like you hadn’t seen it before, fixing him up after a bad night had at least one perk, but it was different now. There was a desire pooling in your belly and lustful intentions this time.

“Like what you see?” He winked, grinning at the heat rising in your cheeks. You looked away, sheepish but he quickly tilted your chin up to look at him. “You don’t need to be shy around me, y/n.” He reassured, eyes softening as they drifted. His hand moved from your chin, gliding down your neck and shoulders to the zip on the side of your dress. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked again, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Your hand met his, guiding it down as the dress loosened and eventually pooled at your feet. The deep red lingerie you’d bought had lace details that he felt as he dragged his hands all over the newly exposed flesh. Featherlight touches roamed your body as he committed every inch of skin to memory. You watched his face as he felt you, the warmth radiating off his body inviting you closer as you waited.

“You’re stunning.” He whispered, you’d have melted right then and there if he hadn’t been holding you. Placing a kiss over his heart, you mapped out every scar you could reach with your lips, hearing him suck in a breath at the intimate gesture. You began to trail lower but he stopped you, frowning. “This is your night, let me take care of you.” Taking off his belt, he slipped his trousers from his legs, revealing a prominent bulge in his boxers. Heat shot to your core, throbbing with need already. There was a slight hesitation as you eyed his size, a little above average and thick.

Hands skimmed your waist sending shivers through you as he walked you backwards towards the bed. You lay down on the mattress, smooth sheets caressing your body. Matt crawled his way up your body, peppering your skin with kisses and licks as he went leaving a blazing trail of electricity in his wake. He stopped to suck marks onto your neck, finding a sweet spot that had you desperately trying to stifle moans.

“I want to hear you, don’t hold back.” He encouraged as he nipped at your jawline. Your hips bucked up, involuntarily grinding against his clothed member and he reacted with a throaty growl. The sound had you soaking through your underwear. The scent of you drove him mad but he kept his composure, leaning down on his elbows to meet your lips once again. His thigh was knelt between your legs providing the lightest of friction as you shifted against him. Moaning into the kiss, you hooked a leg around his hips, trying to bring him closer but he only chuckled, pushing back.

“Someone’s eager. Patience is a virtue, you know.” He teased. His hands found the clasp of your bra and pulled it from your chest. Your hands instinctively twitched to cover yourself but he entwined his fingers with your own and began worshipping your breasts. Licking, sucking and biting the skin, he grazed the hardening nub with his teeth as he palmed the other. Squirming beneath him, you panted at the feeling of his rough calluses against the tender flesh. Your back arched off the bed, frenzied and wanting. Swapping to give each nipple equal attention left you with your head thrown back against the sheets, whining.

Beginning his descent, he licked a stripe along the hem of your panties, fingertips touching you through the material and coming away soaked. Gasping, you looked down at him and saw his smug expression. “You’re so wet for me.” He grinned, rubbing against your clit. A wanton moan ripped through you and had you not been so turned on you’d probably be embarrassed. Your hips moved for more but he removed all contact. Hooking his thumbs through the sides, he pulled them down and discarded them with the rest of the clothes.

Entirely exposed, you felt uniquely vulnerable in front of him even though he couldn’t exactly see you. Those thoughts were forgotten quickly as he tasted you, his tongue lapping up the juices from your entrance and circling your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt that tightness in your abdomen. His expert ministrations caused you to shake and whimper, coming closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue. Your hands dug into the sheets, desperate to hold onto something but he replaced them with one of his own hands, the other teasing your hole. A strangled moan tore from you as he began pumping a single digit in and out of you, tantalisingly slow.

He added a second finger, stretching you ever so slightly but as he curled them inside of you, hitting somewhere you’d never found when by yourself, you spasmed, falling suddenly over the edge. Your breathing was ragged as he continued to eat you out like his last meal, picking up the pace of his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. His name fell like a prayer from your lips as your thighs quaked around him. Your fingernails dug into the back of his hand, the other yanking at his hair making him moan into you, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Pulling his fingers from you, you watched through half-lidded eyes as he licked the slick from the digits, lips glistening with your cum. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t get enough of it. Feeling his bulge on your inner thigh, you tugged at the material covering him, watching him kick it to the side. He pulled a wrapper from the bedside table, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the rubber down his shaft. Your fear returned and he tensed.

“Are you alright? We can stop if you want, I won’t be angry.” He cooed, brushing some hair from your face. You pushed your face into his palm, the warmth calming you almost instantly. “No, I want this, I want you, Matt.” He nodded, a small smile returning. “If it hurts or you’re uncomfortable just-” You cut him off with another kiss, smirking as you pulled back again. “Alright then.” he laughed.

Lining himself up, he pushed the tip into your entrance and you gasped, the feeling of him stretching you only slightly painful. He waited a few moments, mouthing at your pulse point until you moved your hips, signalling him to move deeper. Inch by inch, you took him until he was fully sheathed inside you. His forehead fell against yours as he found a slow rhythm, senses on high alert for any signs of discomfort. All that greeted him however, were moans of pleasure as you met his thrusts halfway. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he guided your legs to wrap around his hips allowing him to reach a little deeper, the feeling of him sliding against your walls becoming blissful.

The stinging had subsided entirely now and Matt became more vocal, chasing after his own release as he reached between you to rub your bundle of nerves. Nails raked down his back creating a wonderful mix of dulled pain and overwhelming pleasure. His lips found yours in a messy kiss, picking up the pace as your breathy moans told him you were close again. You angled your hips ever so slightly as you moved against him which had him perfectly caressing your g-spot with every delicious thrust.

A few more pumps and you were sent plummeting towards your climax, walls clenching and twitching around his cock. Your back arched off the bed and you groaned, breathing faltering as you came for a second time that night but he showed no signs of stopping. He sat up, pulling you into his lap as he continued to pound into you. You hadn’t even come down from your previous high as another began to build and you were screaming his name, curses spewing from your lips as he never failed to hit that spot over and over, relentlessly pinching and circling your clit with two fingers. The stimulation overwhelmed you and you saw stars, vision blacking out he pulled a third orgasm from you, this time his own followed close behind.

Your entire body shook violently as he lay you back down, head against the pillows and pulled out of you, pulling off the condom and tying it before throwing it in the trash can. With your toes still curling as he came to lie beside you, you both panted, breathless from the night’s activities.

“How are you feeling?” He huffed between breaths. A chuckle was your only response, turning to face him in the candlelight. “That was incredible.” You admitted, rubbing your thighs together. A lopsided grin found its way to his face at your words and he pulled you into his chest, ear against his heartbeat which was still elevated. You intertwined your fingers with his and leant up to kiss him.

“I love you, Matt.” You said, nuzzling into his neck with sleep threatening to encompass you.

“I love you too, y/n.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head as you fell into a deep slumber.

#Matt Murdock #matt murdock x reader #virgin!reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #smut #fluff #request

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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Oneshot #2

What if Marinette had never won the Wayne Enterprises competition?

Well, her and Damian’s meeting would have probably went something like this.

—*—*—*—*—*

The asian-French hero looked down at her palm, where a plain silver ring sat at the center of the long silver chain around her neck. They had done it. Seven years, lots of reversed deaths, way too many close calls, and Adrien was in a wheelchair for the next few months at least. If he ever got back on his legs at all.

That wasn’t even brushing over the painful fact that he was now an orphan by all rights, his mother finally buried and his father rotting in prison. It was the epitome of a bittersweet victory, and Marinette couldn’t stand to stay in the same city as where it had happened anymore.

It wasn’t like she had a choice, anyway. Marinette was the Guardian now, and the fallout of the last fight led to her parents figuring out her identity. That couldn’t be allowed to stick, so she had asked Plagg to erase their memory of the discovery. She knew Plagg didn’t have the best restraint with his powers, but the effects would never wear off and could never be reversed.

Sure enough, they didn’t just forget that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was Ladybug. They forgot that Marinette Dupain-Cheng had ever been born.

So the Guardian, for she had held that title since her eighteenth birthday, gathered up all her belongings. She emptied her bedroom as if it had never held a child to begin with, sold everything she didn’t need and packed away what she did. She took the Miracle Box with her, of course. And Chat’s ring. He could wear it anymore anyway, and Marinette didn’t have anyone she could trust it to.

Kagami and Luka gave back their Miraculous, too. As did Chloè. They didn’t need to fight HawkMoth anymore, and they deserved normal lives now that the war was over. Marinette was not about to take from them the very thing she couldn’t have.

So she found herself in Gotham City, her hair cut into a long pixie in an attempt to change up her look. She didn’t need people recognizing her, especially since she had no intention of giving up her hero work. She set up a boutique, she already had more than enough of a clientele and solid reputation to keep her in business for at least a few years. She was twenty years old, and the world saw her as a rising star instead of the crashed meteor she felt like.

The Kwamis saw it. Every time they left the Box (and Marinette liked giving them all at least a day or two every week to stretch their legs, so to say), they would see her darkening bags under her eyes and the almost permanent slump to her shoulders. Her bed almost looked brand new even after several months in Gotham.

She closed her hand around the ring for a moment, before slipping it onto her right thumb. The now-familiar coursing energy of Destruction ran over her body like a current of electricity, promising a fatal shock at even the slightest mistake.

Good thing she was a manic perfectionist.

“Plagg, merge.”

The cat Kwami was sucked into the ring, dying it black and giving birth to the green paw on the flat top. Marinette’s already darkened and Gotham-ized Ladybug costume gaining a few spikes, a black leather jacket, her utility belt holding her yo-yo darkened into charcoal gray with green accents and a red-and-Black extendable bo staff. Instead of a domino mask, stylized black ski goggles covered her eyes, the magical glass tinting maroon in the right lighting. The tips of Marinette’s short hair dyed into a dark mossy green.

“Let’s show these Gotham villains that they can’t just toss us around,” she said to the empty air, as if promising to herself that her half-year absence from the hero scene hadn’t filled her skills at all.

(And it probably hadn’t, since she had kept up with her own training regiment during the hours she really should have been using to sleep, but she wouldn’t be Marinette if she didn’t doubt her own skills every now and then.)

With a soft whisper of “cataclysm,” she laid her hand on the metal door that had been slammed shut. It rusted and crumbled away into dust immediately. She wouldn’t let Scarecrow hold her charity gala hostage. Sure, it hadn’t been as extravagant as something thrown by the Waynes, but it was her first gala and had had a surprisingly large turnout. People had fallen in love with their new Gotham celebrity philanthropist.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t alone. Right then, the windows in the rented building shattered, allowing three very familiar masked men to drop in at the three other corners of the room. With Marinette, they made a full square of heroes surrounding the Gotham villain and his screaming hostages.

“Separate,” she whispered, her Plagg-induced accessories fading away to reveal her in just her Ladybug outfit. Her domino mask was replaced by a maroon and black-polka dotted motorcycle helmet with a rose-red visor covering the upper half of her face. She had on matching fitted cargo pants in the same pattern, and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with two large, hot rod red half-circles over both sides of her waist. Calf-High black combat boots with red soles and maroon stripes up the outer edges completed the new Ladybug look. Not including the ever-familiar yo-yo sitting on a thin red utility belt on her hips, anyway.

The three Gotham-native vigilantes observed everything, including the unfamiliar figure in red and black that seemed to be on their side, at least for now.

“Robin,” Batman spoke up. “Red Robin and I will engage Scarecrow. Get the hostages out and administer the antidote for the fear toxin. If we haven’t wrapped things up by the time you're done, come back here.”

The colorful vigilante let out a tsk at being left out of the combat, but knew he would be the fastest at evacuating the victims. They were all under fear toxin and several were having very violent reactions to it, so his no-nonsense approach would be the best match up with wrangling the civilians out of the building.

“I’ll help you,” an unfamiliar female voice crackled over their coms, making the three vigilantes stiffen. “Relax, my suit’s magic patched me in to your frequency. You can call me Ladybird. I won’t get in your way, but I’m not gonna just sit back and watch either.”

“If you slow me down, I’m hogtying you and leaving you for the Commissioner,” Robin warned, her gaze flashing over to the unfamiliar hero right as her ruby-red lips curled up into a secretive smirk.

“Fair enough.”

Batman and Rex Robin rushed into the fight then, seeing as Nightwing couldn’t distract Scarecrow forever. The blue vigilante used their sudden take over of the fight to turn his attention to Scarecrow’s rented goons, and knock guns out of hands.

Ladybird and Robin took over the rest. Working like a surprisingly well-oiled machine, they seemed to know exactly which victim to grab next to avoid getting in the other’s way. Robin noted that Ladybird seemed surprisingly well-versed in handling panicking victims that fought back, easily trapping their limbs to their bodies and carrying them out forcibly yet efficiently. She was also surprisingly quiet, whispering to the more coherent victims and doing her best to keep the evacuation as subtle as possible.

She was equally quick in administering the antidotes that Robin handed out to her, her hands clothed in black motorcycle gloves easily sliding the needles of the syringes into the right arteries without a second of hesitation.

Luckily, they hadn’t had to go back into the fight after getting all the victims rounded up and cured. Ladybird has just finished handing out shock blankets when Robin’s team filed out of the building with an unconscious Scarecrow held limply between them. A few statements and evacuated victims later, and the three met up with Ladybird in a nearby alley.

“Who are you, and why are you in Gotham?”

“Ladybird,” she said calmly, ignoring the beeping in her helmet. She had used her cure discreetly to reverse any physical damage the vigilantes and victims had taken, and hoped they wouldn’t notice until the next day. It had taken her a while to learn how to make the magical ladybugs invisible, but it was a useful skill. “I used to be Ladybug, back in Paris, but Paris doesn’t need heroes anymore. I came here for a new start, that’s it. I don’t plan to get in your way, but don’t expect me to stay out of it when bad things happen.”

“Oh, so we’re just supposed to accept a new vigilante with magic popping up and sticking their noses in our business, are we?” Robin challenged, stepping forward with hostility in every muscle of his body. Ladybird, to her credit, did not even flinch. In fact, even though she was over a foot shorter than Robin, she just straightened up to make the most of every inch of height she had. It was shockingly effective. She petit female could apparently make a very intimidating presence when she wanted to.

“I don’t plan on leaving, so you either play nice or get the nice beat into you,” she said with a falsely cheerful voice. A growl pulled itself from the back of Robin’s throat.

The rest of the BatFam watched with barely restrained tension. None of them were happy about a new, unknown vigilante in town, sure. But Robin was by far the last person they would have chosen to confront the new person.

“I’d like to see you try, shorty,” Robin purred menacingly, a sharp grin overtaking Ladybird’s mouth at the challenge.

“Gladly, little birdy,” She chimed right back. They lunged at the same moment, Ladybird’s hand gripping Robin’s bicep to try and throw him over her shoulder at the same moment that the man’s fist made contact with one of the large spots on her waist.

But before any real damage could be done, a flash of green light erupted around them, surrounding both heroes and separating them with business-like speed. They blinked at each other as they were forced to separate, wondering if Green Lantern had made a surprise visit to Gotham.

But that was not it, they realized, the green was much too dark a shade and proceeded to sink into the skin around their wrists. A mechanical voice sounded in the air.

“WARNING: GAME FOUL. ATTACKS BETWEEN SOULMATES OUTSIDE OF FRIENDLY SPAR ARE PROHIBITED.”

“What the hell—“

“INITIATING GAME START.”

Both heroes’ vision split in half, just as Marinette’s one-hour timer ran out and her transformation dissolved.

“Well. I’m Marinette, I guess. Your soulmate.”

She watched from two different perspectives as Robin’s eyes widened behind his mask and her own star-struck face contrasted starkly with her unaffected tone of voice. Apparently exhaustion saps the emotion from someone’s tone.

“Holy plot point, Batman.”

“I thought we agreed you would never say something like that again, Nightwing.”

—*—*—*—*—*

#mlb x dc #maribat #daminette

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luna666us · 3 years

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Adventure (Pt.1)

A/N:Hi so this is an X-men fanfiction series that I am creating. I take suggestions and requests thank you and I hope you enjoy

#mutant and proud

adventure-pt2 adventure-pt3

Chapter one: Fire and Ice

They stood against the building with a group of other mutants. The first had wild shiny silver hair. His eyes were a beautiful light brown. A shade that I had never seen in someone’s eyes before, like milk chocolate. His features reminded me of an excited child, his smile never seemed to leave his face, that look of excitement and mischief always in his eyes. His tall frame was well built and strong, yet slim. The boy next to him then had my attention. Not because of the way his hair seemed to be almost golden, or because his lips were always set in a permanent look of boredom, not because his eyes seemed to hold every negative emotion in them at the same time, and not because of the way his body was built perfectly, giving him the build of a god. It was because of his mutation, he had beautiful wings as white as snow, with patches of brown and tan, like angel wings. At the edge of his wings along the bone, on either side are claws. The looks on the peoples faces that look at him is fear. Immediately I’m confused. Why did they fear him. Then again beauty was something to fear, it made you let down your guard, distracts you from the threat at hand. If anything I knew that better than anyone else. I stoped thinking of why I should fear him, once more allowing myself to get distracted again. He looked like an angel, a dark angel, a fallen angel, an archangel. Suddenly as if someone had been watching me stare at him, and had told him, he looks at me. anyone else would have looked away immediately, out fear of what would happen if caught staring at him. However my gaze held, eyes locked on his. It was something I was familiar with. Not something I had done before but had witnessed animals engage in. It was a stare down, a silent battle for dominance. I cocked my head to the side curiously. He doesn’t look away just yet. I smile at him, which seemed to take him by surprise. I then hear the sound of a familiar howl. I turn my head and standing about twenty miles away staring at me was my best friend Luke. I smirked then I was sprinting towards him. His body immediately bracing for impact. One of my ability’s allowing me to push myself faster than most people can run. I swivel left running towards the building. I run up the side of it on all fours, looking like a dangerous animal about to kill its prey. then once I’m in the right position I launch myself off of the building wall, and tackled Luke. Immediately as we wrestled he rolled us over so that he has me pinned to the grass. “I win.” He exclaimed. I smirk. Then I kick my legs up launching him into the air. His face no longer playful, determination filled his eyes. My smile drops and suddenly I look just as serious. I roll out of the way and take a defensive position on all fours. He lands and I stand up no longer crouched. Slowly we circle each other looking for a hole in the others defense. I no longer care if he can counter attack. I lunge and manage to land a solid roundhouse kick to his gut and he’s sent flying. Neither of us care that the entire population of student on the great lawn are watching. Some worried that we’re fighting but too afraid to do something, so eager to see the outcome of the brawl, some already placing bets, and some just generally curious. Another of my abilities take over and suddenly I’m speeding towards him inhumanly fast but not to the point where you cant see my movements. I make it to him before he hits the wall and I land a blow top his back that sends him flying in the other direction, just like before I’m there before he can hit anyone, suddenly in the air I spin around mid air and kick him downward he hits the ground with a force that creates a loud booming sound and the earth shakes. I land skillfully on the balls of my feet. Cautiously approach him. Suddenly he’s on his feet and he throws a punch landing to my abdomen I keel over but quickly recover, just fast enough to counter his next attack. I dodge his next blow and use my own momentum to jump int the air and wrap my leg around his neck taking him down, he lands on top of me and I put him in a head lock. he struggles a bit but eventually taps my arm twice tapping out. I let him go and he rolls over panting for air. “I win” he it still on the ground on his back. He laughs “I’ll win next time.” He claims. I laugh softly and shake my head slightly. I then reach out and he grabs my hand. I help him up and then I hear the sound of foot steps walking closer. “looks like the mutt got his butt handed to him... again.” I turn and glare at the boy with dirty blond hair in front of me. “leave him alone Jack.” I say angrily. “Or what?” I growl at him taking a step forward, but Luke grabs me by the arm and shakes his head. “he’s not worth it.” He says sounding hurt by the insult previously thrown at him. My growling getting louder, resonating deep in my chest. My eyes flash a bright red. “Tiki lets just go.” My eyes fade back to their usual soft coffee color. “fine.” Luke turn letting go of my arm and starts walking away. “but not before this.” I then roundhouse kick Jack and he is sent flying. I dont even wait to see him hit the ground I just turn and walk off. The bell rings and me and Luke part ways. I sat in the corner of the class room, I had a look of awe on my face as I watched Kurt practice his teleportation abilities. Jean walks over. “What do you like him or something” her voice sounded in my head. I laugh once. “Yes, but not in that way.” I speak back to her through my thoughts. “Then why are you staring.” I turn and look at her. this time speaking aloud. “I’ve always had a thing for mutants with physical mutations. Never had the patience for people who look too... human.” She nods once then waits for me to continue talking. it was the first time I had spoken aloud today so my voice caught a few people off guard including all of Jean’s friends. “I don’t really have a thing for them in that way, I just find it... I don’t really know how to put it. There are plenty of words o could use but none of them combine all of them into one word. It’s not that I find physical mutations weird or anything. It’s more like I find them... well the only word that I can think of is amazing really.” She seems curious now so she sits with me waiting for me to tell her everything. When I dont say anything she speaks. “name some people and explain.” I think for a moment. “It’s not exactly something I can explain.” She looks confused now. Kurt was listening in wanting to know why I found him so interesting when everyone else didn’t. “I dont understand.” She claims for the first time. I laugh softly. “ok. Imagine seeing a big bright butterfly, and you think that it’s beautiful. Then someone asks you to explain why it’s beautiful. Sure you could say that you like its wings or how it seems to light up in the sun. That would be obvious so instead they make you explain why you feel that particular thing is beautiful. You can’t explain that but just... feel.” She nods once in understanding. “so you feel he’s beautiful?” I giggle once. “yes but that is not what we are talking about.” I say. She laughs once and Kurt smiles softly. After a while I find myself standing in the middle of the training mat faceing Alex summers also know as Havok. Jean was reading my mind listening to see how I would play this out. I watched as he threw a punch. It seamed as if time slowed down around me. One moment I’m standing eight feet away the next time slows for everything and everyone but me and quicksilver who is the only one who can see everything happen in explicit detail. I laugh once, and punch him. He’s sent flying but time slows again I speed in front of him again before he hits the ground. I punch him again and speed over to him once more this time kicking him, I keep making it to him before he hits the ground. Punching and kicking. Peter smirks and pulls out his phone and plays smooth criminal. time speeds up again and before he hits the ground I launch myself into the air wrapping my leg around his neck bringing him down on the ground then dirty Diana plays. I slowly straighten out of my crouch. Alex jacknives to his feet with a smirk on his face. “lets get serious then” he says. I pull my leather jacket off and toss it to the side. With a look of determination and excitement fills my eyes. Warren turns off the music and replaces it with his own. I tense my body and crack my neck. I take my defensive position and he does the same. He bulldozes at me and I dodge he turns fast enough to land a good hit to my rib cage. That hard punch nocks the air from my lungs but it only fuels me. I roundhouse kick him and he’s sent flying, he manages to recover from the attack quickly this time. Both of us are an angry blur of punches and other attacks. The beat seems to drop then I’m launched into the air by one of his blows. I twirl through the air my eyes close temporarily then fly open and I grab onto a ceiling beam above me and use my momentum to flip myself onto it. I spring from the beam and turn landing sideways on the wall and push myself off of the wall and launch myself at him. I tackle him and pin him, he managed to switch our positions so that I’m pined and under him. “I win.” I smirk. “dont think so.” I retort. My hand goes up to his shirtless form and electricity flows through my hand electrocuting him. I take his short distraction to my Advantage. Bodies by drowning pool comes on and I can’t help but get hyped by the song that I listened to every weekend. Warren saw me getting hyped and he turns the music up. Alex is on his feet once more. I become a blur and kick him hard and he hits the floor hard. I crouch closer to him. “had enough yet?” I ask cockily. “nope.” Next song is Zombie by Bad Wolves. I was surprised that warren knew all of my favorite songs. once again me and Alex are cautiously circling each other. I make a move and he blocks my punch. He tries to counter with a side kick but I catch his leg and use my last attempt to finally win without using all of my abilities. I kick his other leg out from underneath him and he’s sent into a left split making him cries out in pain. He rolls over holding his crotch. “you win.” He says in pain. “mhm thought so.” I say then I turn and grab my jacket. I turn and reach for warrens phone and search never too late by three days grace. It begins playing and he looks amused. “nice pick.” He says. “well duh I have great taste in music and you obviously do too.” He smirks. “but I already knew that.” I roll my eyes at him and go sit with Jean and Kurt who had joined her. I smile at Jean. “your up.” She gets up and takes her place on the mat facing Jubilee. I sit next to Kurt and watch. he clears his throat and I look at him. “Hello, my Is Kurt” I smile and hold out my hand. “it’s nice to meet finally meet you Kurt, my name is Tiki.” He smiles. And shakes my hand. I watch as Jean is about to make a move and I start talking. “if Jean lands this blow to Jub’s leg then the match is already over for her, but if she manages to dodge then can counter attack with a roundhouse kick knocking Jean to the ground, distracting her long enough to pin her for three seconds ending the match.” Kurt looks at me in amazement. “you got all that just by their stances.” Your offensive and defensive stances can tell you a lot about whats going to happen befor it even happens. He look unconvinced. I smile. “you’ll see.” We both watch the match unfold. Jean moves forward and Jubilee doesn’t see it coming. Jean lands a kick to her calf and we watch as Jubilee begins to fall, Jean gets her in a head lock before she hits the ground, and flips Jubilee over and onto her back on the mat pinning her for three second and Jubilee taps out. I look at Kurt and smile. “told you.” He looks awed. Then my phone chimes, and I pull it out. It was Luke. ‘Glasses or no glasses?’ There is a picture of him wearing a pair of shades and one without them. ‘No shades’ i reply, then I turn my phone off and put it away. After a while I watched as two boys take their places on the mat. Kurt begins talking. “that one on the left is John Allerdyce, he has the power to manipulate fire, and the one on the right is Bobby Drake who can create and manipulate Ice. There code names are Pyro and Iceman.” I watch as Pyro pulls a Zippo from his pocket. It was designed like a shark. I was curious of the outcome of the fight. It was an equal fight, opposite powers. Fire and Ice.

A/n: I will be making a part two, I take requests and suggestions, i’m still looking for a beta reader so if you would like to hit me up and talk about it go right ahead. You are all X-men in my eyes. Have a great week and happy belated Easter.

P.s. I apologize for my horrible grammar and English. I just edited it so we should be good now.

#x-men #John Allerdyce #Peter Maximoff #Bobby Drake #Warren Worthington #Too many amazing characters to list here #mutant and proud #if your actually reading all this then your f***ing awsome #Stay healthy and safe

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Part 13 | Nerves & New York City | 9.7k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

a/n: here it isssss, thanks for being patient with me y’all. hope you enjoy 💕

Sequins & Zippers Masterlist

General Masterlist

Don’t forget that reblogs help writers out a ton !!!

love y’all, mean it.

“Aren’t you warm in those corduroy pants?” Aurora asks Harry as he comes over to take a swig of water from the bottle she has sitting on the seat next to her.

“Trying to get me to take off my trousers, love?” Harry quips back as he untwists the cap.

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” She says before she adjusts the leg of her old worn out jean shorts and brings the straw of her iced coffee to her lips. “But seriously, I’m just sitting out here and I’m warm, how can you not be in those pants?”

“I’m fine Ror, really.”

“Whatever you say,” she singsongs, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

The sun is shining bright in the almost cloudless sky. Harry is playing catch with Mitch and Adam and a few crewmembers jump in and out of the game as the morning turns into afternoon. Harry was excited to be back at Hersheypark Stadium and the seasoned crewmembers were too, with it being the only outdoor stadium in the entire tour.

Aurora has never loved the heat much, though. Between the inevitable sunburn she always gets no matter how diligent she is with applying sunscreen and the chaffing of her thighs from shorts that always end up riding up while she walks, she finds it hard to focus on how the sun feels on her skin. She finds it even harder whilst just watching Harry run around in those lilac corduroy pants. She doesn't find it hard to watch as his t-shirt pulls from where it’s trying to stay tucked into the waistband, his laurel tattoos peaking out every so often when he reaches up to catch the baseball. She hides her lingering gaze behind her sunglasses and her smirk around the straw of her coffee.

Aurora’s phone ringing pulls her out of her stupor and she shakes her head as she watches Harry run off to catch the stray ball that’s flying through the air.

“Hi mom!” Aurora answers her phone.

“Hi Honey, how are you?”

“I’m good, we’re in Philly right now, trying to enjoy the sun and beautiful day as much as we can before getting to work.”

“Good, you shouldn’t be working too hard anyways.” She can tell her mom is smiling through her voice. “I was just calling to confirm our plans and such for NYC.”

“Oh yeah of course! I’m so excited to see you and dad!”

“We’re way more excited to see you, trust me,” her mom laughs.

“Yeah so, we should get to NYC on the 19th and we can get into our airbnb around 1pm.”

“Ror, are you sure you want us to stay with you? We can just travel back and forth or get our own hotel room.”

“No mom, I asked to get an Airbnb so we could stay together. Haven’t seen ya in since March, I wanna spend time with you!”

“Well, what about Harry?”

“He'll probably stay with us, if that’s alright. He’s got a handful of stuff to take care of while we’re in the city, a few meetings and friends to see, but he’s coming to dinner with us on the 20th. Wants to do the whole official meet the parents thing,” Aurora explains and her mom can definitely hear by the tone of her voice that she said it with an eyeroll. “Then I thought we could go back to the airbnb and play games or watch a movie, just a normal family night. I think Harry would like to be a part of that.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

Aurora pauses before she answers. “Just think he’d like to have a relaxing night, something more normal than ordering room service or a business meeting, some real family time.” Aurora looks up from the chipped polish on her fingers and meets Harry's eyes across the open aisle of seats. They mirror each other's smiles. “2 nights at MSG are a big deal. I-I, I just know how he gets and I don’t want him to stress too much or be alone the night before.”

“We can do dinner a different night,” her mom suggests

“No, no, he’s the one who asked to do it that night in the first place.”

“Oh okay, dinner and games night it is.”

“Great, and then the next day is MSG night 1 and I thought I’d show you around the arena and what that's kinda like. They’ll be food at the arena but you can go out for dinner if you want. You’re still planning to leave the next morning, yeah? You can stay for the 2nd night if you want, I have spare tickets.”

“Okay sounds good. No, go ahead and give those tickets to someone else. Your dad and I have to get back, he has to leave for a conference later that day,” her mother responds before going on about the different places her and Aurora’s dad have planned to go to. Even though they live fairly close to the city, they don’t go as often as they would like and have a list of their favourite places they always have to stop by. Aurora knows she’ll definitely be tagging along to the Fabric District with her mom as some point too.

Aurora entertains her mother on the phone for a bit longer before she starts to notice crew members getting back to work, Mitch and Adam retreating to the air conditioned trailers and then Harry coming to sit next to her, finishing off his water.

“Mom, I gotta,” she starts as Harry presses a kiss to her head, “I gotta go. Gotta get to work.” A kiss to the back of her ear. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.” A kiss to the vein in her neck causes her shoulder to rise to her ear. “Love you, mom. Bye!” A kiss to the base of her neck, near her collarbone. “You’re annoying,” Aurora barely says before Harry kisses her square on the lips. She giggles when he pulls away and stands up, grabbing her hands and pulling her with him.

“Come on, I’ve gotta train and you should get out of the sun.” Aurora looks at him with a questioning look. “You’re getting a little pink,” he says sweetly as he presses his finger to her shoulder and they watch as the spot turns white and then to a bright pink.

“Oh great,” she says.

Harry laughs lightly and wraps his arm around her shoulders lightly as they walk towards the side of the empty stage and back towards the trailers.

The sunset surrounds the entire stadium, a baby pink and orange glow creates the most beautiful lighting and only adds to the overall energy of the audience. Aurora can’t help but gaze at Harry and watch him watch the crowds that have come out to see him. He’s left his mint green suit jacket in his dressing room and rolled up the sleeves on his white shirt. The lens of his sunglasses glow golden as he adjusts them on the bridge of his nose. A familiar intro of a song starts and Aurora walks over to stand next to him.

“Ya know,” Aurora starts, knocking her hip against Harry’s, “if I weren't standing here next to you, I’d definitely be in the audience at one of these shows, singing along to ‘Olivia’ at the top of my lungs with a drink in my hand.”

Harry tosses an arm over her shoulder as he continues to look into the audience from the makeshift backstage area. He sets his red solo cup down on top of one of the large black crates. “Would you now?”

“Sure would.” Harry tightens his arm around Aurora’s shoulder and tucks her in closer to him.

It’s not until they head back into his trailer to get his suit jacket that he teases her more about it and kisses her to make up for it.

“Why’s it that I’m wearing a pastel suit but the jacket you’re wearing is black?”

Aurora looks down at her clothes. High waisted jean shorts, a cream silk tank that’s tucked in and a less conspicuous suit jacket. Harry’s black suit jacket to be specific. She had taken the black Gucci jacket with her to take to the dry cleaners after the Ft Lauderdale show and it hadn’t made it back to the wardrobe cases yet.

“Well you only have one mint green suit and you need it tonight, so I thought I’d borrow this one instead.” Harry hums, a smirk quirking up one side of his mouth. He takes the lapels of his jacket and opens up the right side to take a look at the label sewn in. ‘Gucci’ is embroidered into the patch and underneath is Harry’s name. He hums again, a full smile flashing at Aurora now.

“You’ve always enjoyed seeing your name on me,” Aurora barely whispers. Harry’s hands move from his grip on the jacket to sneaking around Aurora’s waist underneath said jacket. His lips fall to her neck and the sounds of the crowd wash away for a moment. She giggles from the featherlight touch.

There’s a knock on the door. Without a doubt it’s the stage manager needing Harry to get his mic hooked up. Harry groans and drops his head to her shoulder.

“Come on,” Aurora starts, “you’ve got a show to do.” She pulls his head from her shoulder and adjusts his jacket one last time before pushing him out of the trailer.

Aurora watches the show from near the edge of the floor, leaning against one of the cement barriers. She pulls the jacket around her tighter as the night breeze comes through. Aurora’s heart swells when Harry picks a little girl out of the audience from in front of him at the B Stage.

“Do you have things in your ears? You’re very small,” Harry asks, accent thick. The crowd echoes in ‘aws’ and Aurora can’t help but smile. “Are you okay?” He asks next, accent still thick but voice pitched up an octave. “Having a good time? Good.”

He sings ‘Sweet Creature’ and Aurora can’t help but think about how he might react with her little cousins or maybe the kids of his friends. Then she thinks about how she might get to witness that and has to stop herself from letting her mind run totally free and reaching the idea of what a family of their own would look like years down the road.

| | | | |

The doorbell rings as a text comes through Aurora’s phone. Her parents are here. She looks at Harry, whose nerves are written on his face and it could be from a number of reasons. Aurora caresses his face for a moment, meeting his eyes and then kisses him softly before the doorbell rings again.

“Relax, it’ll be okay,” she tries to ease.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Now you know exactly how I felt when I met your mom,” she trails off as she reaches for the door.

“Rory!!” her mother exclaims as she walks through the now open door. Her mother tosses her bag on the bench in the small walkway and hugs Aurora tightly.

“Hi mom,” Aurora says, voice muffled against her shoulder.

“Aurora!” her father greets her next, waiting for his wife to let go of their daughter so he can greet her properly.

Aurora’s mom pulls away and goes straight to introduce herself to Harry. She hears the interaction while she hugs her dad.

“Harry, dear, so happy to finally meet you!”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Del Gatto.”

When Aurora pulls away from her dad she introduces him to Harry and they exchange a handshake. Aurora doesn’t miss the tough face her dad tries to put on and Harry’s nervous smile.

Harry’s phone rings and he reaches in his pocket to turn it off quickly after glancing at the caller ID. Aurora knows it’s Jeff. It’s always Jeff.

“Harry actually has to head to some meetings,” Aurora says.

“I’m really sorry and hate to leave but my manager tries to get in as many meetings when I get a day in a major city, especially in New York,” Harry explains.

“No worries at all, dear,” Aurora’s mom eases.

“I’m all clear for dinner tomorrow night and hopefully can join you beforehand,” Harry says as he grabs his bag from the couch in the living room only a few feet from where they’re standing. Harry reaches for Aurora’s mother and kisses her on the cheek, “Lovely to meet you. And you, sir,” Harry nods at Aurora’s father. Harry turns to Aurora who is still standing near the door.

“Have a good afternoon of meetings. Just text me if anything changes, yeah?”

Harry nods before kissing her lightly, his free hand squeezing her hip. When he pulls away from Aurora he takes a moment to look at her and then tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear.

“Love ya,” he rushes out when he’s halfway out the door and Aurora blushes before saying it back.

| | | | |

- Meeting #3238734823 done. How’s your day so far? -

- hahaha how many more to go? Mom and I dragged Dad to the fabric district so I’m doing great-

- hm about a million more to go, it feels like. Haha wish I was with you. -

- Harry, if you were here I would be making you choose fabric to make you a new suit. -

- wait, can we make that happen even though i’m not there?” -

- uhm, DONE.-

- done deal. Okay, heading into meeting #3238734824. I’ll call you when I’m heading your way. -

“Is that Harry?” Aurora’s mom asks as she tries to peak over her shoulder.

“Yeah, he was just between meetings.”

“Doesn’t seem like he gets much time off.”

“Well, not so much right now, I guess. Being in the city makes it a perfect time for them to get some stuff out of the way. He normally actually has days off. Anytime it’s not a show day he gets to do whatever he pleases.”

“Whatever he pleases?” she asks accusingly.

“Mom…” Aurora groans. “I know it’s your job as a mom to be skeptical but please have an open mind.” Aurora’s mom purses her lips. “He’s good. Really good. And by ‘Whatever he pleases’ I mean he gets to make his own plan and decision and luckily for me, most of the time it’s something with the 2 of us, or we hang out with his band or the crew.” Aurora sighs, now. “I get that his life is totally different, but you gotta be open minded, Mom, please. He’s trying so hard and you purposefully trying to find things that are wrong won’t help you or us.”

“You’re really serious about him, aren’t you?” Aurora nods sheepishly. Her mom can read her daughter almost too well and she realises she hasn’t taken the time to do so enough now that they’re together, in person, right now. The thought of her baby, her youngest, traveling the world with a boy, who is a stranger to her (no matter how famous he is), is terrifying to her as a mother, but she sees that she needs to get past that. “I’m sorry, I promise not to jump down his throat. I can see how important this is for you both.”

“I really don’t want to add anymore stress to him and he so badly wants you to like him but if you’re going to pick him apart, I can’t put him through dinner.”

“Rory, honey, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be this way. I seriously promise not to add to his stress.”

Aurora sighs, for what feels like the millionth time in the past 5 minutes. “Thank you. I just want so badly for you to like him.”

“If he makes you happy, really truly happy, then I trust you and will love him.”

Aurora drops the basket in her hand and wraps her arms around her mother in a hug. A final sigh from Aurora’s mouth and it’s the last bit of worry that leaves her chest. The familiar scent of her mother’s clothes is comforting and she realises in this moment how much she missed her.

“Mom,” Aurora says as she hugs her mom tighter, “I’m really happy you’re here. I missed you a lot.”

“Aw honey,” her mother replies, pulling out of the hug. She takes Aurora’s face in her hands, “I missed you, too. Come on now, let's finish up here, shouldn’t make your dad wait too long.”

| | | | |

“Harry, sweetie, family dinner typically means no phones at the table.” Aurora’s mom explains after Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket for a 2nd time.

“Mom-”

“No, your mom is right,” Harry cuts Aurora off. “I’m sorry, I’m turning it off now.”

“If there’s something you need to take care of first, you can,” her mother offers when she sees the rosy colour blush on her daughter’s cheeks.

“No, there’s nothing important right now.”

“Har, everything okay?” Aurora asks when she sees his finger hover over the ‘slide to power off’ screen.

“Yeah, yeah, just a lot of texts coming through about tomorrow.” With that one sentence, Aurora knows what’s happening. She reaches her hand to hold onto his wrist closest to her and gives it a squeeze.

“Moms know what’s best I guess, right?” And Harry laughs at that, the whole table erupts in laughter.

The laughter dies down as their waiter brings their food to the table. Once everyone is busy with their meal, Aurora turns to Harry. “You okay?” she asks, voice almost at a whisper.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m alright. Probably should’ve turned my phone off earlier anyways. Everyone is trying to see me or come to the show.”

“Everyone you want to be there is already on the list and if they want to come that bad they’ll find a ticket. Honestly, they should have already bought a ticket.”

“Ror, be nice.”

“I am! Just saying it how it is,” Aurora retorts with a small shrug.

Harry leans over the short distance between them and presses a kiss to Aurora’s temple. With a blush ghosting onto her cheeks, they go back to their entrees in front of them.

“So, what’re your plans after the tour is over?” Aurora’s dad asks Harry.

“Uhm,” Harry stutters, looking towards Aurora briefly before back to her father, “I haven’t given it too much of a concrete thought yet, I suppose.”

“Nothing work wise planned?”

“No, I try to take time off between projects. I definitely think I’ll need some time before I get back to the studio and think about recording another album. There’s been whispers of other projects and things, but I’ve been focusing on this tour and I’ll have a look at what might come next after I take a break.”

“That sounds like a smart idea,” Aurora’s dad agrees.

“Speaking of plans come the end of the tour, honey,” Aurora’s mom turns her head towards her, “what have you been thinking of doing?”

“Oh there might be something in the works but nothing is for sure yet,” she says, pushing her fork around on her plate haphazardly.

“Rory,” Harry chastises, “don’t down play it like that. It’s for sure and you know it. You should tell them the news.”

Aurora peels her eyes from her plate and looks at Harry then to her parents. Their eyes are eager. She sighs as Harry reaches his hand under the table to squeeze at Aurora's thigh.

“Uh, so Harry Lambert called the other day when we were in Boston and he offered me a full time, permanent job.”

“Rory! That’s so exciting!” her dad exclaims.

“Wow! Yes! So you’ll be Harry’s stylist? Permanently?” Her mom begins with the questions. Aurora was unsure of how to tell her parents this new opportunity, traveling and moving is always a hard topic for her mom and add in the possible judgement and concern, Aurora couldn’t figure out an easy way to share the news. .

“Well that’s part of it, yeah, but it’s so much more than that. Lambert has his own styling business so I’m working with him on that.”

“So you’ll be moving back to London?” Her mom asks, a frown appearing on her face.

“Actually, no. I’ll be his point of contact, here in New York City. I’ll travel when needed for things, like to London or LA, especially for Harry’s stuff as he gets back to work later on in 2019 but I’ll live here and do a lot of shoots and jobs here to help Lambert as he keeps expanding and so he can stay in London more and take care of business there.”

“Whew, I thought you had fallen in love, gotten a new job and were about to leave for London permanently,” her mom shares and Aurora’s shoulders tense.

“Mom…” Aurora groans, almost a little upset that that is what her mom is choosing to focus on rather than the job she’s officially landed.

“Aurora, we are so excited for you,” her dad adds, knowing exactly how this conversation is going. “Aren't we, dear?” He encourages his wife.

“Oh of course, yes! But you can’t blame a mom for being worried about you moving so far away.”

“It’s fine,” Aurora brushes it off, shoulders tense still. Harry squeezes her knee under the table, reminding her he’s right there with her. She knows her mom is happy for her but she can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt every time her mother comments about her moving. A permanent residence in New York City, she thought would have sufficed, but her mom can’t overlook the idea of all her kids leaving home and moving away when it was her who encouraged them to do so in the first place.

Harry takes it upon himself to change the topic and begins to ask Aurora’s dad about his work. Aurora quietly finishes her food as Harry charms himself into the position of her dad's new best friend. They bond over old records and Harry can’t help but ask him about the few times he saw Fleetwood Mac in concert. Aurora and her mom simultaneously roll their eyes when he begins the family famous story of his first ever concert. Harry is engulfed in the conversation but there are only spare seconds that he’s not engaged with Aurora in some way. A hand on her knee, sometimes a squeeze to her thigh, his arm resting on the back of her seat and then moving to her shoulders when their empty plates are taken away.

Harry and Aurora’s mom playfully fight over who gets to pay the bill and Harry compromises with the idea of picking up wine (beer for him and Aurora’s dad) and dessert on the way back to the airbnb. Aurora’s mom smiles to herself when she signs the bill and puts her credit card away. Aurora can tell she’s happy and actually enjoying the evening even through some of the rocky bits.

“Why don’t we meet you back at the apartment?” Aurora suggests to her parents, looking for some way to get some sort of moment alone with Harry. “We’ll grab dessert and drinks while y’all get comfy and pick a game.”

Aurora’s parents agree to the plan and Aurora knows they’ll talk about Harry all the way back and Aurora’s mom definitely makes some sort of ‘All Knowing’ face, surely catching on to the idea of a moment alone, an evening walk alone with the city lights.

Harry isn’t one to shy away from a kiss or two but he hasn’t been able to properly kiss Rory in what feels like way too long. Under a street lamp, Aurora’s parents far down the block behind them walking in the opposite direction, he pulls her to a halt. He tucks some stray hair behind her ears as a small smile quirks up on his lips. Aurora mirrors it in a split second. Harry cradles Aurora’s head in his hands and finally kisses her the way he’s wanted to since he saw her rush up to him in front of the restaurant earlier this evening. His hands fall to her waist and the almost silky cotton is soft and he remembers noticing the pearl white trim on the neckline. It’s a dress he hasn’t seen, a dress Aurora had been saving. Aurora melts under him and she releases her weight into him. Harry’s hands don’t seem to stop moving for the few minutes they kiss under the flickering street lamp. When they pull away from each other Harry runs a feather light finger tip over the pearl white trim, starting at Aurora’s shoulder. Even in the New York summer heat, goosebumps follow his path. Aurora’s hands rest on the back of Harry’s neck and her thumbs play with the curls that grow longer and longer day by day. Harry kisses her forehead, sighs and then pulls her into his chest, his arms wrapping all the way around her waist. Harry hides his face into Aurora’s hair as a group walks past them and squeezes Aurora tighter.

“Everything alright?” she asks him.

“Yeah, missed you today,” he whispers. “Did I do okay?”

Aurora pulls away from him so she can get a look at his face. “Okay? Are you talking about dinner?” He nods. “Babe, you were great.”

“I’m sorry for making you tell them about your new job.” Aurora shakes her head. “I didn’t know you were worried about telling them. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Made it easier with you there. My mom’s just always been so tough to share that excitement with. She gets over it eventually, she did with college, with my internship, with tour. The initial reaction is just hard cause she doesn’t go straight to being excited.”

They start walking down the street again and Harry reaches for Aurora’s hand and she gladly takes his. Harry’s quiet for a moment but Aurora pays no mind to it.

“I don’t know if it helps at all, but I’m proud of you. Incredibly excited for you,” he says when they turn a corner. Aurora spots the italian bakery lit up at the end of the block. Harry kisses the top of her head and the smile on her face grows.

“Thank you,” she replies and squeezes his hand. “Know you’re only excited cause this means I’ll still be working with you.”

“Hmm… definitely part of it,” he laughs, “But even if you had to work in some random city, with something nothing to do with me, I’d still be proud and excited for you. Always will be, no matter what.”

Aurora stops dead in her tracks and pulls him in for a kiss. “I love you a whole fucking lot, did you know that?”

“Had a feeling,” he whispers around a smile, his dimples deep. “Come on, I’ve got a craving for chocolate cake.”

When they let themselves into the apartment, Aurora’s parents have changed into some more comfortable clothes and are sitting in the living room, setting up a game of Monopoly. Once Harry and Aurora have changed as well and Harry has poured everyone a drink and cut the chocolate cake he was craving, they settle on the floor in the living room.

2 glasses of wine and a slice of cake later, Aurora is most definitely winning the game of Monopoly and Harry is horribly losing and has had to ‘borrow’ from the bank a handful of times. Aurora’s not sure if it’s the wine and chocolate or if it really is the ease of the evening that is making her so undeniably happy. Harry laughs along with the teasing from Aurora’s dad and happily refills her mother’s wine glass. He seems relaxed and worry free right now and Aurora’s thankful for that. Tomorrow will come and it’ll be a different story, but right now she takes this in. This moment in an unfamiliar apartment, with 3 of the people she loves most in the world. Harry steals a few glances every now and then, his hand lingers on her back or thigh every so often and Aurora plays with his grown out curls when she slides closer to him on the floor.

“Aurora, I should’ve brought your monopoly game from home!” Aurora’s mom says.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion because, here they are, playing monopoly but he can’t ask what’s so special about the one back home because Aurora quickly shoots a look at Harry before she gives her mother a look that could most definitely kill.

“Mom! Please don’t,” she pleads before she’s laughing.

“It would’ve been funny!”

“Oh what? Just like how you thought me bringing my One Direction posters on tour would be funny?”

“Dare I ask?” Harry adds in.

“Aurora made-”

“Mom!”

Harry wraps his arms around Aurora’s waist, “Rory, you shouldn’t interrupt your mother. Quite rude isn’t it?” he jokes.

“Aurora made a monopoly game for a class project one year and it was One Direction themed,” her mother shares.

Aurora groans before dropping her head into Harry’s chest, hiding her blush.

“Oh, did she now?” he teases.

Aurora knows she won’t hear the end of this for days, but she endures the teasing with a smile on her face and it's most definitely not because of the wine but because she is laughing with Harry and her mom and her dad. She needed tonight, they all did.

| | | | |

When they get to MSG, Harry shows Helene an old photo that he’s found on instagram. Fans had been tagging and tweeting it to him all morning and he smiles at the memory of it. He wants to recreate the photo, a way to keep a record of his journey. Helene loves the idea and tells Harry to meet her in the empty audience in 15 minutes.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get the wardrobe ready,” Aurora says about 10 minutes later.

“Oh, you’re not coming with?” Harry asks, trying to hide his disappointment.

Aurora tilts her head at him and she recognizes the look on his face. She saw it last when they were at the O2 in London, weeks ago. “I can come with, if you want?”

“I don’t want to put you behind schedule.”

“Don’t have much of a schedule and it’s still early. Come on let’s go find Helene!” She reaches for his hand and pulls him down the hall with her. “Everything alright?”

“Mhm, you know you keep me calm,” he says quickly, like it’s something everyone knows. Aurora brings his hand up to her face and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Aurora recognized the photo when Harry showed it to her this morning and now she laughs along with Harry and Helene as they try to get the perfect photo. Harry has a red bandana tied around his head, controlling his bed head and Aurora looks from the photo from 2012 to the sight in front of her. The cowlick at the crown of his head is exactly the same but the difference in the width of his shoulders is something Aurora can’t get over. Even in the baggy black t-shirt she can see the way his back muscles contract when he moves his arms and the way his waist tapers into his hips.

It feels like they take forever taking the photo once Aurora is only focusing on Harry’s back and then the difference between his bare arms to his now tanned, tattoo covered muscles. She sighs and pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and pointer finger.

“Ror!” Harry practically yells, both him and Helene laughing.

“Sorry what?” she says getting pulled out of her thoughts.

Harry gives her a look and Helene says something about needing to be somewhere and photos that need editing. “Where’d ya go just then?” Harry asks.

“No where, just thinking.”

“I know that look…” Harry drags on. “Come on.”

Harry pulls her up from the chair and pulls her along.

And that's how they end up giggling on the couch in Harry’s dressing room. Harry’s hovering over Aurora, the kissing has halted for a moment.

“Ror, how did this even happen?” Harry asks between giggles.

“They’re YOUR fancy Gucci pillows that caused the problem!”

Harry’s hands work at the strands of Aurora’s hair that have gotten caught around the beads that cover the pillow. She whines when it pulls slightly but can’t help but continue to laugh at the situation.

Finally, she’s free from the pillow and Harry tosses it to the floor. His smile is the last thing she sees before he’s kissing her again. His hips drop to hers and she can’t help but give in to the feeling and pull him in closer to her. Her hands sneak under his t-shirt and up his back.

Harry’s phone rings but they ignore it.

Then Aurora’s does too and they ignore that as well, until it rings non stop.

Harry groans, “you should probably get that.” Harry pulls away and sits back on his feet, knees still on either side of Aurora’s hips. He reaches towards the table and grabs her phone. He passes it to her below him and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s my mom, they’re probably here,” she groans. Harry grins, his dimple sinking deep.

Harry shifts slightly which causes Aurora to groan but for an entirely different reason. Harry laughs lightly and pulls down the tank she’s wearing as he was the one to push it up to get his hands on her skin in the first place. Aurora closes her eyes for a second to collect herself. Harry moves off of her and looks at his phone and rolls his eyes.

“More people coming out of the woodworks?”

“Mhm,” he hums, elbows resting on his knees. Aurora rubs his back soothingly and presses her lips to his neck.

“I was gonna give my parents a tour and show ‘em everything, but I can push it back if you want me to?” Aurora offers.

“No, go spend time with them. I need to workout anyways and sound check is earlier than normal. You can bring them to soundcheck if you want!” Harry sighs, “I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah I’ll bring ‘em round.”

“You’re coming to the preshow thing Jeff set up right?”

“Mhm,” Aurora hums, “and I’ll have your suit ready before then so we can just change you into it right before Kacey starts. Sound alright?”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that works,” he rushes out and his shoulders drop heavily.

“Hey, promise you’re good right now? You can come with, if you want.”

“Yes, I’m good, thank you,” he says, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Boxing will help for sure, always does.”

Aurora takes his head in her hands, tucking some messy curls back in place, surveying his eyes quickly before she leans in to kiss him softly.

The navy blue bandana tied around his neck makes Aurora smile as he moves around the room with a red solo cup in his hand. Everyone else in the room has booze in their cups but no one pays any attention to the fact that Harry has ice water in his. The room is loud and Aurora doesn’t love the chaos of it all so she focuses on Harry. He smiles at her from across the room when he sees a glimpse of her behind the head of whoever he’s talking to. She gave her parents the full tour of backstage and let them see a glimpse of what her life looks like lately. They left to get dinner before coming back for the show and Aurora’s glad to be able to be there for Harry for the night without distractions.

Aurora mingles with a few people she’s met before, but always keeping an eye on Harry. She’s star struck a handful of times as she watches Anna Wintour come and go, Zach Braff hang out near the bar, and Rob Sheffield chat with Helene. Even with the starstruck moments, Aurora has fun with what is easily deemed as her tour family. A few times, Harry meanders over to her and drags her along to introduce her to someone new. Repeatedly he refers to her as “his Aurora” and everytime Aurora blushes which earns her a kiss to the cheek or a squeeze to her hand or hip. In turn, she tugs on the bandana around his neck a few times.

As the crowd in the small room thins out, Harry takes it upon himself to make a spectacle of checking his watch and pulling Aurora out of the room with him, shouting about how it takes time to look good and that he hopes everyone enjoys the show.

“You know, that first night in Basel, I recognized your nerves the second they hit you,” Aurora begins as she watches Harry button up his black shirt. He turns around to face her, the long fabric hanging from the collar reminiscent of that first night she helped him get ready. “You got really quiet, really fast,” she continues as she starts to loop the fabric into a bow, “and even though in the end I helped, I was panicking inside. It was the first night, I barely knew you, I was just trying to do my job, but then,” she sighs when she’s happy with the look of the bow, “then I realised, in that exact moment, that maybe I had more to offer for you, that calming your nerves, minutes before you got on stage in front of thousands of people, was something I could help with.” Aurora grabs the cream Gucci jacket from the hanger. “Something I knew about, something we could level on.”

After Harry slides both arms into his jacket he turns around to Aurora. “I wasn’t used to having someone there with me, to help me, no one really ever noticed when I got nervous.”

“I hope you know that I’ll always be there, be here, for you,” she adds as she buttons his jacket closed. “I think, that was the moment, even though I didn’t really figure it out till now, that you were more than just this big rockstar that sauntered around the stage in his custom Gucci wardrobe to me, that there was something more there.”

Harry huffs as his hands rub up and down Aurora’s arms. There’s a sparkle in his eye that was there a second ago, a sparkle that turns into a welled up tear in his waterline. He blinks it away. He smiles at her and Aurora carefully pulls him into her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, careful not to mess with his hair or the perfectly steamed suit.

“You good?”

“Always good when you’re around,” Harry says, his voice soft as it gets lost in Aurora’s hair.

The hallways to the stage entrance are loud and the energy hasn’t changed all day. Everyone is excited and their shouting their “good luck’s” and “break a leg’s” at Harry as he passes by. Aurora follows behind him and his band with Helene by her side. Mitch wraps his arm around Sarah’s waist and Helene snaps the moment. Everyone’s buzzing but Aurora keeps an eye on Harry a few feet in front of her. Harry holds open one of the double doors that has a sign that says “Stage Entrance” taped on it. Helene walks through last before Harry takes Aurora’s hand and ushers her in before he walks through too, the door shutting quietly behind them.

His band finds their place on stage and Helene heads to the audience. Harry squeezes Aurora’s hand one last time and then kisses her temple as the opening track begins.

“Just be careful in those flares, they’re a tripping hazard,” Aurora yells, with a laugh, up to Harry as he takes the metal steps 2 at a time.

Aurora doesn’t waste any time getting to the audience and finding her parents in the mix at the back of the pit. She gives them both a quick hug just as Alex’s voice comes over the speakers.

Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?

When the screen rises and Harry begins to come into view, gasps fill the pit along with screams as the giant flares come into view. Aurora doesn’t miss the chest heightening breath Harry takes before letting out a shaky breath through pursed lips, his shoulders dropping back to their relaxed height. The second the crash of Only Angel hits, Harry’s totally and completely carefree. Aurora turns to see her parents' reaction from their spot next to her. The surprise in their eyes in the abrupt change in music makes Aurora laugh. The surprise turns to amazement when the entire audience is singing along.

When Harry makes his way back to the mainstage after Sweet Creature, Aurora’s mom turns to her. “I understood why you loved him before, but now I really understand.” It makes Aurora giggle and blush a bit.

| | | | |

Aurora’s sitting in the empty audience, 3 rows behind the pit, her sneaker clad feet resting on the chair in front of her. She’s tired, exhausted. Between her parents being in the city, a handful of random friends trying to see her, Harry’s friends and family everywhere, a secretly nervous Harry, and a job to do, she’s managing a lot right now. But right now, in this moment and for the next few minutes she gets to sit, drink her iced latte and not care that she’s wearing her last clean pair of leggings and one of Harry’s random t-shirts. She’s got nowhere to be, no one to entertain, no job to do.

A newly familiar intro begins and Aurora can’t help but laugh a little at Harry in his tall white socks, Adidas sneakers, black workout shorts and his rainbow TPWK tshirt. She’s used to seeing Harry dressed like this, but not while he’s on a stage, while he’s singing and playing his guitar, his vocals echoing more than normal through the empty arena. It’s barely 10am and Harry and Kacey’s voices aren’t where they will be when they perform this special duet later tonight, but Aurora enjoys moments like this. They sing through the chorus a handful of times, making a few harmony changes and in between each run, Adam’s kids cheer from the floor right in front of the stage.

Aurora can see the dark circles under Harry’s eyes from where she’s sitting but doubt anyone else notices them. She helped him manage his nerves leading up to last night’s show and his solo debut on the MSG stage went off without a hitch but a wave of emotions took over once they had both left the arena. Aurora could tell something was off with Harry. Once they closed the door to their bedroom for their time in New York, Harry sunk to the bed, his arm over his face. His chest heaved quickly before a slow, shaky breath was released.

“Hey,” Aurora said softly, sitting down on the mattress next to him. She reached for the arm covering his face. “You okay?” she asks, confused. He had been totally fine all evening, no sign of anything bothering him, no disappointment from the night, nothing. She’s caught off guard.

“Not really sure why this is happening,” he says, his voice shaky. Aurora lets her hand rest against his chest, her thumb moving softly back and forth in a soothing manner. She can see his face now, but his eyes stay closed. She watches tears build up on his eyelashes, but gives him a moment and doesn’t say anything. Harry eventually lets out a heavy breath through his nose, his hands take the one that is resting on his chest. He brings her hand to his face and kisses her palm softly. “Just a lot happened today, I guess,” he says in the end.

“You guess?” Aurora says in disbelief. “A lot did happen today and you can come down and react to it in any way you need.” Harry hums, lets go of her hand and reaches out to her.

“Will you lay here with me for a second?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Whatever you need,” Aurora responds as she lays down next to him and fits herself into his side. “I’m proud of you.”

“Please, Ror,” Harry whispers.

“No, I’m gonna tell you. I’m proud of you. Tonight was incredible. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

And even though he was happy and proud of himself he still continued to let tears fall from his eyes. Exhaustion from the nerves, the empty place in his heart where Robin lived because he kept dwelling on the idea of him being in the audience to see what he did, the toll touring in general takes on his body, the added stress of Aurora’s parents. Aurora whispered about the amazing moments during the show and repeatedly told him how much she loved him as she ran her fingers through his hair until he eventually fell asleep.

So the dark circles are there for a reason and nobody else notices or needs to know why. Harry wanted one last rehearsal with Kacey before sound check later and wanted to be able to relax (as best as he could) for the majority of the day. And relaxing and having fun is what he had on the agenda for the afternoon. A few more cups of coffee and he would be ready for the official Harry Styles World Tour Table Tournament. When they walked into MSG the tables were already being set up, official leaderboards being hung on rolling whiteboards and a shiny, engraved trophy on display nearby.

Aurora is off the leaderboard faster than the competition even started. She doesn’t even make it far enough to play against Harry. He’s a pro at this point. Table Tennis is a weird niche tour sport Aurora thinks. Harry loves it, plays it everyday, almost and Aurora teases him about him being the best because it’s the only thing he’s done as consistently as touring and performing. 8 years of table tennis under his belt has leant him the skills. She thinks he shouldn’t be allowed to compete today. Even 4 months of touring for Aurora and she can’t get the hang of it, so she watches from the side, laughs with the group and watches the dark circles disappear from under Harry’s eyes.

With no surprise, Harry wins the tourney. Literally no one in all of New York City is surprised but they still cheer for him when he scores his winning point and then everyone is crowding around him, giving him high fives and slaps on the back -- there isn’t a single trace of a dark circle under his eyes now. Aurora knows that for a fact when she gets a good look at him up close when he picks her up off the ground in a hug while still cheering.

A few hours later Aurora is standing in her usual spot in the dressing room with the steamer heating up nearby and the large wardrobe case open in front of her. She smiles when she reaches for tonight's suit. A turquoise version of the golden Calvin Klein suit he wore back in Australia.

“You coming out with us, tonight?” Harry asks Aurora from where he’s sitting in Ayae’s chair as she messes with his hair.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Aurora questions back, confused.

“Well, ya used to decline my invites all the time,” Harry says matter of factly.

“That was before and anyways when was the last time I turned you down?”

“Harry, leave the poor girl alone,” Ayae pipes in. “She already deals with you enough as it is.”

Aurora and Ayae laugh together as Harry whines about being teased. Aurora’s thankful for the ease of the evening, the disappearance of Harry’s nerves and exhaustion. Aurora’s parents are gone and though it was an easy few days for the most part, there’s still a wash of relief over the couple.

Once Ayae is done with Harry she wishes him good luck and then goes to find Mitch and Adam.

“So you’re coming with tonight?”

“Harry, of course I am,” Aurora says with a roll of her eyes. “Gotta celebrate, right?”

Harry just smiles and kisses the top of Aurora’s cheek before he takes his trousers from her hand. Aurora takes the now well known and iconic TPWK tank (just as she predicted) from the hanger and passes it to Harry. And then, just like every night of tour, she holds his jacket by the collar and Harry turns his back to her and slides one arm, then the other, into the sleeves. Aurora pulls as the shoulder seams, making sure they’re sitting just right before he turns around to face her. His eyes don’t leave her face as she makes a few minute adjustments to the collar before she buttons it close. Aurora doesn’t drop her hands right away, she takes a moment, the familiar spot comfortable and Harry takes the opportunity to rest his forehead against hers. A small moment between just the 2 of them calms the recurring nerves in Harry’s chest. Harry pulls away after a moment, a squeeze to Aurora’s hip before he does. No words are needed but miles upon miles of thoughts are shared between them in that moment. Aurora gives him a smile as he disappears into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Aurora slips out of her sneakers and pulls her heels out of her bag. Final night of MSG feels like the perfect occasion to dress up a bit more. She touches up her red lipstick before Harry’s back. He stops in his tracks in the door as if he didn’t notice her fully just minutes ago when she was helping him into his suit.

“Wow,” he says now “Ror.” He shakes his head and then walks over to her. He plays with the flimsy fabric at the hem of her tank, then his hands grip at her waist. His calloused fingertips find the skin at the top of her black jeans, underneath the tank and he rubs small circles at the plushy skin of her waist. “You look really pretty, Rory,” he almost whispers.

And just like any moment they have before a show, they’re interrupted by someone calling Harry’s name from the hallway. They groan in unison.

“Where are you gonna watch from?”

“You’ll have to find me.”

Harry finds her in the audience with ease and his signature smirk appears when he does at the beginning of Ever Since New York. It's at this moment Aurora thinks about the importance of New York.

I’ve been praying, ever since New York

This song had been written before they had met, about something totally unrelated but New York holds this cloud of memories, some strong enough that he had to put into a song, a song he plays every single night. This week will be added to the cloud of memories in New York and with Aurora moving back to the city come the end of tour, she’s sure they’ll create more here too.

The audience erupts in screams when Harry brings out Kacey to sing with him. “You’re Still The One” begins and Aurora remembers the first time she ever heard this song. Too little to remember it all perfectly but she still remembers her mom singing it in the kitchen while baking cookies and little Aurora being entranced by the music, her mother carefree, hair tied up in a bun while she sang it to Aurora.

When Harry played the short list of songs he was considering, Aurora put her vote on this track and Kacey loved it just as much. Now, as the song plays and Kacey sings along with Harry, the majority of the audience is singing along too. Harry can’t help but smile from time to time and it sparkles like Kacey’s rainbow dress.

At another point in the show, Harry makes a scene in front of his band and shows off his Table Tennis tourney trophy.

There are moments like this sprinkled throughout the show. Harry fully carefree, enjoying his time and the audience equally having the time of their lives.

During Medicine, his mic cord gets caught but it doesn’t take away from the impeccable performance of the unreleased song, it only adds to it.

As he walks down the alley between the pits, he collects handfuls of bouquets on his way to the B stage. Harry finds Aurora quickly, a huge smile on his face and then tosses the bouquets at her in the mix.

Aurora doesn’t miss the shakiness of his voice during Sweet Creature and from her spot in the mix, she can see him perfectly. His head tilts up to the 300 level seats during the instrumental and he takes in a short breath before blowing out a breath through pursed lips, trying to hold back tears. It’s the sight in front of him, the emotion of the song, the reminder that he’s performing for the 2nd night for a sold out MSG that gets to him.

Harry answers a fan’s question at one point, about what his favourite Britney Spears song is. Toxic, of course. And Aurora laughs as the audience erupts in a chant of “Sing It!” to which Harry responds, without surprise to Aurora, a simple, “no.”

The energy in the room is something she’ll never be able to describe in a million years. There’s never a lull, never a dip, never once anything Harry does receive less than an ear deafening scream.

The ground shakes during “Kiwi” and Harry makes the crowd scream the New York line back to him. It’s a moment where the entire audience has one goal and they achieve it, following through with Harry’s request to let go and be whoever they want to be.

The energy doesn’t stop when he leaves the stage. The ringing is louder than normal in Aurora’s ears but she doesn’t care and the red lipped smile on her face stretches from ear to ear. Harry doesn’t care about the lingering print of red lipstick on his face when Aurora kisses his check the second he pulls her into a hug. He keeps her close while people come up to congratulate him & rave over the show.

They make it to his dressing room almost an hour later & Harry collapses to the couch right away. Aurora sits down next to him & Harry pulls her in close to him. He doesn’t take long to get his lips on hers, but there isn’t an urgency in the kisses. The kisses are slow & deep & almost pondering like he isn’t sure where he wants this to go right now.

Aurora takes it upon herself to start pushing his jacket off his shoulders to get her hands on more of his skin. It doesn’t go much further. The kisses slow down to a stop & they just sit there for a moment, both knowing that if they don’t actually stop now they will run into someone interrupting them.

They go through the post show routine as usual. Harry’s sweaty suit gets hung up to dry & Harry jumps into the shower while Aurora puts everything away. She praises him over & over about different parts of the show as he messes with his wet curls & changes into clean clothes. A blush repeatedly rises to his checks & he resorts to getting her to stop fawning over his show by kissing her against the dressing room door.

“Come ‘ere, Angel,” Harry says as he offers an open arm to her, “need my girl by my side at all times.” He’s got one hip popped out slightly and a hand on his pool stick.

“Was getting you another drink, rockstar,” She says as she hands him a fresh Old Fashion, his drink of choice for the evening. Harry presses a kiss to the top of Aurora’s head as he takes the glass from her hand.

The game of pool has been put on pause as one of Harry’s friends reads Rob Sheffield's Rolling Stones article about MSG night 1 as loud as he can. There’s hoots and hollers every so often from the group they’re with in reaction to some of the comments Rob has written.

That’s confidence. That’s cheek. That’s arrogance. That’s a rockstar.

Bowie-glam raunchfest Kiwi.

His generous spirit was contagious all night. Shine on, you crazy diamond.

Harry doesn’t let Rory leave his side most of the night. He even takes the opportunity to show her how to properly use the pool stick in the most cliché romcom way. Aurora doesn’t shy away though, she only encourages it more every time.

They seem to be sharing every single feeling tonight, warmth, excitement, release of stress, love, & they can’t get enough of each other.

It’s nearly 3am when Harry’s twirling Aurora around in circles in the almost empty basement of the bar. The group has thinned out but neither of them are paying much attention to what’s happening around them. Aurora’s cheeks hurt from the sheer length of time she’s been smiling at Harry. His tortoise rimmed reading glasses seem to appear out of nowhere & his dimples haven’t gone away in hours. As Aurora adjusts her grip on Harry’s shoulders & the small bit of sweat through the rainbow Kacey Musgraves T-shirt he’s wearing doesn’t bother her.

One last turn in the middle of the open floor has Aurora dizzy & stumbling over her feet & then Harry’s. Harry grips at Aurora’s waist a bit tighter as he steadies her. He lands a sloppy kiss on her lips before guiding both of them to sit at the nearby booth. Aurora swings her legs onto Harry’s lap with the only goal to get closer to Harry in mind.

In this small basement of a bar in New York, with his Rory all over him, Harry is sure that this is where he’s supposed to be.

comments & feedback ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS welcome & appreciated !!!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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nahoyaglock · 3 years

Text

Frobi selfship headcannons

!!sfw!!

shigabi, tenfro, fronaka, frobishima, inuobi, frokuto, aobi, frotani, fromi, ushibi, frobinoya, katsubi hcs

a/n: sorry for these long ass headcanons, i hope yall enjoy them tho?? also sorry for the reoccurring mention of my terrible paranoia </3 im going through a hard time w it rn, pls excuse me

reblogs on selfship posts are super appreciated!

shigabi

video games

i am his baby! he has a soft spot for me :3

lets me sit in his lap while he plays video games

hc that shigaraki is a twitch streamer instead of a villain and he streams with me on his lap

messy hair, black headset, pajama pants and a black hoodie vs pink tank top, white skirt, pink bows and a fuzzy blanket

we own cats named wario and waluigi >:3

we play ow and animal crossing together

he plays shooters and horror games while i play otome games and rhythm games

watching happy feet and cuddling, lets me lay between his legs as he plays with my hair

calls me brat and baby

cooks me seafood

some days i want him to baby me, other days we go run around at 4am

teases me bc of my height, leanes down to give me kisses

randomly tugs on my hair and pretends he didnt do it throught the day

i kick his ugly ass ankles /j

tenfro

baking, cuddling, horror movies and videos games 24/7

both bullied so we confine in each other and comfrt the other well

hes very caring so he always checks in, even when i seem fine

notices my mood changes

"do you need a hug?" and just hugs me bc he knows i do

he likes to rest his head on my chest when he rants to me

booping noses and interlocked hands ♡

ushijima gives us rides everywhere

their manager, so i have to make sure tendou does well

the other team members are happy im dating tendou, especially ushijima

sitting with tendou on the bus to their matches

kisses and hugs after every match and practice match

lets me wear his jersey bc he hates when other guys look at me

one time terushima tried to flirt w me and he made ushi scare him away

fronaka

hand on ass always.

tries to fight any guy that even comes near me

me, ryu and noya, the trio !

walks me to class with his arm around my waist

basically bestfriends to lovers so we spemd all our time together like we did before we were dating

still a slight kiyoko simp but lmao so am i, we admire her beauty together

brags to the team about me, telling them random things about me

"frobis favorite food are clams!" crosses gis arms proudly

"ryuu, you dumbass" insert me slapping the back of his bald head

saeko teasing him and telling him to treat me well

says "hey bae" and probably uses the devil emoji ajxjzjx

plays with my hair, he loves my curls :D

we prolly have a dog, small dog bc ooi dogs scary,, D:

frobishima

always has an arm around me

denki bestie af !

also one that i can relate to so we can share our experiences and comfort each other

top kin so we get along very well and have alot of the same interests

movie nights w/ the bakusquad

cuddling kiri the whole time and making the rest of them feel single

he likes to pinch my shoulder to get my attention

big smiles and playful biting :D

he probably has alot of my clothes left at his house bc i like wearing his shirts

insert kiri cooking while i back hug him <3

likes to princess carry me, and carries me when im sleepy

thigh kisses bc he loves them alot <3

best an comforting, sings me to sleepy and helps me when i have really bad paranoia </3

true loml

inuobi

walk to school together everyday

sometimes we race

brings me a breakfast bar, sometimes his mom makes me a morning snack too

little pecks and hand holding

we're like two energetic puppies in a relationship

i always attend his games and cheer for him and the boys

insert kuroo, tora, kenma, and kai acting like my dads

me and inu doing puppy eyes for little spoon, he usually gives in and takes big spoon

lots compliments and blushing

"inu, y-you look cute today"

"frobi, you look s-stunning"

comfort buddies!

convinces the coach to let me ride on the bus with them to tournaments

sleppys babies on the back of the bus

members have pictures of us sleeping

sharing a blanket that kai gave to us bc the bus was cold and sharing a scarf that inuoka bought me for winter

frokuto

if hes sad, im sad :( if im sad, hes sad :(((

my energy beam, my number one, my ace 🥺

he loves to hold my small hands in his big ones, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb

he'd walk around at tournaments, big star bo with his tiny cute girlfriend

saru, komi, and konoha give me headpats

bo pouts because they didnt guve him head pats

many pats for the ace!! :D

during lunch i hang w him and akaashi, akaashi having to deal w me and bos shenanigans

lowkey, we probably bring him stress

me and bo go on night time adventures, he drives us <3

brings home ramen after a long day of practice

when hes sad he cries into my chest and i play with his hair

"its okay bo, your still my ace" kisses and more kisses and more kisses

he loves to hold my thumbs and kiss my wrists

always looks for me when he has a match, sees me cheering the loudest for him <3

hes my baby, he'll smiles at me and ill cry

aobi

listener

he lets me talk about my interests and day, i let him talk about his

loves to be supportive, my shoulder to lean on

we take public transportation after school to get to our house

he lets me lean against him and sleep, tired from a long day, he'll wrap his large arm around me

he opened up after a while and smiles more, sometimes he'll lightly giggle, one time i made him laugh for 5 whole mins

hes so golden in my eyes, lake dates, he likes to just walk with me

treats me to food whenever we go out

i help him be more open and push him to be himself, but i respect his boundaries !!!

if he feels uncomfortable he'll poke my back gently

i take him away from the uncomfortable situation and ask what was wrong so that it doesnt happen again

people ask why im dating him bc hes "scary"

my response is a punch to the face

jkjk, its none of their business why, but its bc hes very sweet and kind hearted, who couldn't love an angel like my nobu? :]

frotani

complicated hc?? i have like two ways it could go, my top is def still me being a shiratorizawa girl bc lmao canon !!

met him through levy, (@bigger-simp-than-kazuichi) aoba johsais manager

she introduced me to her besyies, kyo and yahaba

"hey, you're the one they call mad dog?" he hates that now but responds with "yes, im mad dog."

levy invites me to alot of their events if im not busy, lowkey oikawa is salty bc im shiratorizawas manager

kyotani stays at my side, we talk about our days and his live for volleyball

we exchange numbers and he messages me at night, we have hour long conversations till one of us falls asleep

late night calls, he just grumbles and scoffs at anything i say and he just waits for me to sleep before hanging up

confesses to me at a match infront of my team, i just kissed him in response

he visits me whenever he can, and brings me food and gifts

imagine aoba johsai vs shiratorizawa, rip kyo lmao ushi get his ass /j

kyotani likes to hold mt hands and wrap my in his jacket and scarf

barks at anyone who bothers me, loves when i sit on his lap btw

fromi

komi will pick me up over his shoulder and drag me to the room when he wants cuddles

loves horror movies, horror movie marathons any time of the year

he likes and kiss my jaw and hold my thumbs

calls me short when he's not that much taller than me

we curse at each other every 5 minutes

insert sarukui climbing through our windows atleast once a month to have a movie marathon with us

komi likes to slap my head

we probably play fight all the time, definently turns into something more intense

akaashi and konoha break us up and me and komi will be confused

"whats wrong? We were just playing"

"yall were strangling each other"

"we're fineee~"

chaotic, we always look like were fighting or arguing

"fuck you, i hate you" "fuck you too bitch"

holds hands and deep kisses the next second

akaashi lowkey hates dealing with us, bokuto loves us skxj

ushibi

shira and hayato convinced me to join at their manager

the original shiratorizawa manager, ceo of the company 😎

they introduced me to the team, and they took a liking to me

ushijima was by my side alot, helped me with my job and carrying thing especially

he was so kind and even spoke to me, asked if i ate, if i slept well, if i needed anything

didn't realize it was different from what he normally was like until tendou asked about it

one time ushi was walking me home and i asked him about it, but he was definently confused

"i, guess so. your attractive and have a good personality. i would date you."

hes so blunt, awkwardly blunt

so we,, started dating, and now he really never leaves my side

i got haterz bc im THE ushiwakas bby girl 🙈

gives me headpats and kisses before everymatch

lets me wear his team jacket, huge on my small figure

he enjoys our height difference, he thinks i look cute when i look up at him :3

teaches me how to play volleyball, even smiles when i land a good serve

patches me up whenever i get hurt, slight frown if i ever fall

hes,, kinda fatherly? a person w no dad calling someone fatherly sjcjxj lmao 🙈🙈

nurturing and caring, ushi i will kiss you, probably calls me by my full name, fro, manager, baby, and sometimes even brat

frobinoya

hes woke, i just know it

all the characters prolly woke but hes woke asf!!

we run around, literally our whole relationship is mainly just running around and being wild

arcade hangouts after school/practice

he loves arcade games so much, and so do i

we take off guard pictures of each other, also chaotic and blurry pictures

he'll kick me in the butt, que me chasing him till i run out of breath

he likes to support my interests, loves to watch me practice dancing

we wear cat ears and maid outfits and take pictures in his room at like 5am when the sun rises

videos of us kissing and cuddling in his gallery

posts on insta to make ryuu jealous

buys me cute skirts bc he knows i love to look pretty for him !!

im his pretty kitty ♡♡

likes to call me his girly~ and his serotonin

holds my hand whenever im feeling sad and strokes my cheek with his thumb

lowkey has a good voice, sings heather to me while he nuzzles his nose into my jaw

katsubi

random kisses throughout the day

pinky holding bc he likes my small hands

leans over me when he wants a kiss

gets teased by the squad and just endures it bc he likes the way i giggle when they do

head pats ! lots :3

likes to show off infront of class 1-b by holding me close and kissing me

brings me lunches he cooked and likes to feed me

always finds an excuse to be on my team for training or being my training buddy

barks at anyone who tries to train with me /j

walking me to school and home, even brings me over

mitsuki loves it whenever i come over and makes cookies when i do

katsuki helps her make the cookies D: so precious

never kisses infront of his parents bc he doesnt want to deal with their teasing and nagging

sings ballads, will sing me to sleep, probably listens to rap and rnb, some rock, but will sing me some khalid since he knows i love him

probably sung me "can i be him" one night when my paranoia got bad <//3

i laid on his chest and he ran his fingertips up and down my back, singing softly to me until i fell asleep

forehead kiss before he drifted to sleep as well, katsuuuu :( <3

@kekozume @nekosvno

#self ships #shigabi #tenfro #fronaka #frobishima #inuobi #frokuto #aobi #frotani #fromi #ushibi #frobinoya #katsubi #frobis.💿

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pasteljeon · 5 years

Text

Crystal Snow (m)

Summary: This holiday season, you decide it’s your turn to take care of the boys that have given the world their everything. For eight days, you whisk them away on an adventure full of laughter, joy, eggnog, sex, and, most importantly—love. Their break, after all, is much overdue.

Pairing: OT7/Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sub!bts, overdose of fluff, exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (male & female receiving), dry humping, sex toys (vibrators), dirty talk, teasing, basically a filth fest and i’m literally so sorry

Length: 13.6k

Notes: f i n a l l y !! long overdue, this was supposed to be for Christmas, now remastered as a thank you to all my readers!! this drained everything from me, now i’m gonna disappear to do school. please lmk what you think! <3

December 25

4 pm :: you looked at me and i looked at you / like we’d never look away

The building is bustling with energy, carts and equipment being wheeled through long halls. You dodge another rack of clothing as you swipe your entry card, offering quick waves as familiar faces skid past you with cheerful but brisk greetings.

The music grows louder as you make your way to their practice room, though it cuts off just as you approach the door.

Seven puddles of goo greet you, limbs splaying over the wood flooring as pants fill the room. Their choreographer gives you a tired smile, nodding as he passes by. “They’re all yours.” The background dancers file out alongside him, and you bow at one another as they trail out. “Thank you for your hard work!”

They make no move even as their eyes open to peek up at you, chests still heaving. They watch your figure in the mirror as you pad across the room to scoop up an armload of water bottles.

“Hello baby.” Yoongi blinks up at you sleepily, a whisper of a thanks escaping his parched lips as you hand him the bottle. You step past him to a motionless Namjoon sitting by Jimin who’s slumped by the mirrors. The leader takes the drink gratefully and quickly moves to gulp down half its contents but Jimin is much fussier, making grabby hands at you.

“Feed me,” he murmurs. You giggle but acquiesce, unscrewing the bottle and taking a large swing. He opens his mouth eagerly, swallowing greedily. His tongue flicks yours timidly but without much vivacity given how much energy he’s just exerted.

Something tugs at your sweater and you look down to find Jungkook pouting up at you, having rolled over from where he was laying. You laugh, reaching down to card your fingers through his sweaty locks. You give him a kiss too, and he laps at your lips, catching stray droplets.

Somewhere, someone makes a whiny noise and you know it’s Taehyung with the way it deepens into a distinct grumble.

His eyes gleam triumphantly when Jungkook releases you reluctantly, still flat against the ground as he chugs the remaining amount down, muttering under his breath. “Spoil sport.”

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a seat in front of him as Taehyung wags his eyebrows at you. He takes your hand and puts it against his cheek, a trail of sweat tracking to your skin as he leans in to nuzzle your nose, giving you an Eskimo kiss. “Missed you,” he rasps. You press the uncapped bottle to his lips wordlessly. He drinks voraciously, though his amber irises burn into you, his intense gaze never wavering.

A shallow flush rises in your neck but you ignore it, scooting away to peer down at Hoseok, who grins weakly at you from where he’s collapsed in the centre. You pat down his hairline with a towel, pressing a simple kiss to his temple before handing him a bottle. Next to him, starfished, is Seokjin. He says nothing, just opens his mouth expectantly, to which you laugh and waterfall slowly, careful not to accidentally send him choking to the hospital right before the Christmas holidays.

“It’s Christmas?” Almost like he could read your mind, Jungkook speaks.

Before you can reply, however, Yoongi cuts in frankly, “Who cares? It’s just another work day.” Which promptly sends you frowning.

“Nuh uh. None of this,” you tut. You start walking around, picking up shirts they’ve sweat through and packing them into a duffle bag quickly.

“___, what are you doing?” Seokjin asks, confused. He sits up, reaching over to help you, but you shake him off firmly with a look. He falls back, still watching you. “Kookie, Tae, Jimin and I still have to go record our parts at Rabbit-hyung’s studio.”

“We have to go finish—” Namjoon begins but you hush him with a hand.

“Not this year. Go home kids. Take a break. You all earned it.” You smile, shifting to the side to reveal Bang Sihyuk. He grins at the boys, who all look shocked.

“No way! Does this mean we get to put up the tree tonight?” Jungkook says eagerly.

“Well, what are we waiting for? The rain? Let’s go home!” You call over your shoulder, already waiting for them at the door. “Oh, before I forget. Shower and get ready. We’re going out.”

They stop in their tracks, and you can already see Hoseok visibly wilting. “Do we have to? Can’t we just stay home and watch movies and cuddle?”

“I know you’re all tired but trust me on this. I have a surprise waiting for you, and I think you’re going to like it.”

The boys grumble a little more as they drag themselves to the van. Taehyung and Jimin latch onto you like koalas and you bumble along with the two of them hanging off either arm.

Jungkook falls asleep within the first few minutes into the drive, head resting against your shoulder. You lace your fingers through Yoongi’s who dozes off lightly. His thumb smoothes over your knuckles.

You turn from the window, catching Seokjin’s eye. Moonlight illuminates his face in fractals, giving him an almost ethereal appearance that enhances when he smiles.

He leans over to tuck a stray tendril behind your ear, fingers dipping to tip your chin up. He kisses you softly, cradling your face between his hands like you are made of the finest china.

“Jagiya,” he breathes. You inhale, eyelids fluttering. “Jin.”

You’re pulled away as the driver announces your arrival. “Soon,” you murmur as he helps you off. “Soon, I promise.”

“So,” you begin as you distribute plain white envelopes, each empty save for the scrawl of their name in your handwriting, “These contain the addresses to the restaurants you’ll all be going to. It’s important you go to the one with your name on it, so no switching.” You direct this at the Taehyung, who is already sheepishly retracting his hand at your words.

The boys are scattered around the living room, changed into comfortable attire and toweling off wet hair as they squint doubtfully at what you’ve just handed them. You resume reapplying new pain patches onto Jungkook, who lies on his stomach draped on the couch. He melts further into the material as you knead the tense knots in his shoulders.

“We’re going to different ones?” Namjoon asks, confused as he turns the thin cardstock over in his hands idly.

“Yep. Part one of your gift from us is at each of these places.”

“Us?”

“Everyone at BigHit pitched in. They were all very thoughtful planning for your break this year,” you say, smiling.

The youngest groans as he sits up, rubbing his neck before slipping on the fresh white shirt you offer him.

You gesture for Jimin to take his spot as Jungkook moves to take a seat next to you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You say absentmindedly as you dab at a small wound dotting Jimin’s waist. “Since you’ve seen your families.”

Namjoon and Seokjin exchange glances. “Well, yes, but you know we’re perfectly happy spending Christmas here, with you,” he begins.

“Oh! Shit, you guys have to go. It’s time!” You help Jimin tug on his sweater as you herd the boys out the door. “Your cars are waiting for you outside. Go, go!”

“W-wait!” Hoseok says, bracing an arm at the door. He eyes you worriedly. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

You shake your head, lips pursed as you try not to smile. “No, this is a gift specifically for you guys. It wouldn’t be right to have anyone else there. But I’ll be here when you all return.”

Still, the dancer hesitates. You take his hand, squeezing reassuringly. Finally, he nods, but pulls you in for one last, lingering kiss before bounding away.

You watch them go, giggling as they wave exaggeratedly in their respective vehicles until they are well out of sight.

6 pm :: your nerves gather with the altitude / exhale the stress so you don’t come unglued

“Eomma, appa.” He stares at the familiar smiles beaming up at him from the round table. He can feel tears pooling at the edges of his lashes as he blinks rapidly at the scene. Arms wrap around him firmly, the warmth consuming him.

“Merry Christmas, son.”

“They’re waiting for them, aren’t they?” You nod.

“And you? What are you going to do?” Rhys looks at you.

“Me? I’m going home too. I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

December 28

2:16 pm :: i’m taking it slow / feeding my flame

“Jagi?” You make a muffled noise as you hear your door opening, a chilly gust of wintry breeze rifling through before it’s shut again, the telltale noise of boots being tossed and jackets crinkling as they’re being hung.

“___?” You straighten, still chewing as you turn. Seokjin coos at the adorable sight of your cheeks puffing out with the amount of food stuffed inside. You blush, swallowing with difficulty.

“Was that the pie?” Jimin asks as he hands you a glass of water. You nod sheepishly. “Yeah, I was just taste testing, but it was really good.”

“We brought the other dishes you asked for,” Hoseok peeks into the kitchen, Namjoon and Jungkook popping in right after and setting down the take out boxes.

“Shit, it smells really good,” Jungkook says, eyes widening as he inhales deeply. Yoongi snakes his arms around your torso, propping his chin up on your shoulder as he sniffs the air. “Mmm, it does smell delicious.”

“Here, try some of this,” you cut a small piece of the rib roast you just finished, holding it up for Taehyung who wandered over after unpacking the side dishes. He’s nodding vigorously even before he finishes. “It’s good!” He exclaims.

Seokjin jumps in too. “Hey! Let me have a taste too!”

You laugh. “Okay, okay. The turkey’s about done so grab some plates and we can start eating.”

Namjoon starts distributing the disposable plates, Seokjin with cutlery and Jungkook helps you set the turkey out of the oven and onto the table.

“Chim, can you pour the—mm.” He cuts you off with a kiss, mouth moving against yours sweetly. “The—the eggnog,” you finish breathlessly. He grins, stepping to the side for the cabinet above you for glasses.

You wait until the boys have piled enough onto their own dishes before you start ladling soup into a bowl, stealing a piece of broccoli from Seokjin’s plate as he passes by.

Jimin remains attached to you even as he deals out eggnog, pulling you onto his lap as you finally settle down. Jungkook and Taehyung are busy setting up the gaming consoles whilst arguing with Seokjin over what games to play.

Hoseok and Namjoon are talking between bites on the other sofa, the former’s signature laughter ringing in the air periodically.

Yoongi doesn’t say much, just shuffles over to lean against you. He seems comfortable, munching on his food as he watches Seokjin whine about being tag teamed over Mario.

Jungkook spots you and quickly ditches the argument, grabbing his controller and plate before plopping down before your feet, resting between your legs.

A quiet bark startles you and you quickly make space for Yeontan who scrambles onto your lap, circling once before settling down. You pluck a treat from the bowl on the side and feed the puppy who licks your fingers happily.

“How’s that new track you’ve been working on going?” You murmur, running your fingers through the Pomeranian’s soft fur. Yoongi watches with hazy eyes as you rub Yeontan’s ears, the dog making a low-pitched whine of contentment.

“Dunno yet. Still trying to give it a good base,” the composer sighs. You smile when you feel his hand creep into yours, squeezing tightly. He refuses to look at you, a dark flush staining his neck.

“Could you … give it a listen when you get the chance?” Yoongi clears his throat, attention still trained on the screen.

“Of course,” you giggle inwardly as you kiss his cheek. Cute.

“Movie time!” Jimin announces as he returns from where he’d gone to grab your selections. He dumps them on the ground in front of the players, effectively halting the game at hand as he spreads the DVDs out. “What’ll it be today? Action? Romance? Horror?”

Hoseok gives him a dirty look.

“Marvel,” Jungkook beams.

“No,” Namjoon deadpans. “If I have to watch another twelve hours of Tony Stank losing Pepper, I’m handing in my resignation to Bang PD in the morning.”

“Horror it is!” Jimin declares, brandishing a few classics.

Hoseok closes his eyes and screams.

??? :: standing in the eye of the storm / ready to face this, dying to taste this, sick sweet warmth

It’s warm. It’s so comfortable you snuggle in closer, an arm braced around your bare waist protectively.

“I think we’re drunk,” you whisper, a giggle erupting.

“Definitely—mm—should’ve, ah, mixed that eggnog with, mh, something,” you pant, arching your neck as Jungkook sucks lilac galaxies across the expanse of your neck, Jimin peppering kisses down your spine. When did you get naked? Your head spins pleasurably and you gasp when the singer moves to nip at your inner thigh.

“I need you,” Jungkook whimpers, grinding against your hip. You can feel his length twitch against you, hot and hard beneath his boxers.

It’s a blur after that, bodies pressed together as you all stumble toward the bedroom. Limbs tangled, a coil building with every thrust, reaching a high with a drawn out moan and a hoarse yell of your name, breaths mingling in a sated haze.

December 29

1 pm :: i won’t soothe your pain / i won’t ease your strain

You thank the customs officer as she returns your passport with a smile, stuffing it away in your bag as you make your way to the exit, luggage rolling in your other hand.

“Oh my God,” you breathe. You drop the handle of your suitcase, stepping closer. Raising a hand, you trail it up his arm, squeezing his bicep firmly.

“Have you—have you been working out?” You say, stunned.

Yoongi smirks. “Yep.”

“How come I hadn’t noticed this before?” They watch your eyes grow round with fascination, surveying him from head to toe.

You’re practically eye fucking him with the way you’re undressing him mentally, gaze intense and heavy, your tongue darting out to run across the lower seam of your lips.

“Don’t do that here, love,” Namjoon murmurs, grip tightening over the metal handle of his luggage.

“Shit,” Jungkook mutters, tugging his oversized hoodie lower over his dark-washed jeans.

“Hm,” is all you say, giving the rapper a final, appraising look before sweeping off to the plane.

“We are so fucked,” Taehyung sighs. Yoongi grins. “Yep.”

2 pm :: so you won’t hurt anymore / so you can smile more

“Um, excuse me; can’t you see this seat is taken?”

You can hear the indignant undertones of Seokjin’s outraged squawk, and you round the edge of the entrance just in time to catch the elder staring in rather comical disbelief at the way Jungkook straight up swipes RJ from the cushioned rest and plops himself onto it instead.

“___!” Seokjin whines immediately upon spotting you lingering at the side, a fond smile playing on your lips as he reaches out for you. You give him an exasperated look, shaking your head as you make your way to them.

Setting your bag to the side, you tap his nose playfully. “Jinnie, play fair.” And to Jungkook, you flick his forehead. “Ow,” he whines, rubbing the skin with a pout. “Mean noona.”

“Don’t be a brat,” you click your tongue, giving him a pointed look. His cheeks darken visibly, biting his lip as he ducks his head. Doe eyes peeking up at you from his bangs, pupils already blown out. He looks hungry.

“Later, baby. It’s been a long day. You should rest,” you say, amused.

With an exaggerated groan, he kicks his shoes off and makes himself comfortable. “Fine,” he says faux grumpily. “Good night.”

6 pm :: you promised we’d go together / but you’re leaving, leaving

“Flying is always the hardest part,” Namjoon scrubs his face wearily. He’s flopped onto the chair across from you, already fully reclined. “Although I really shouldn’t say that.” He corrects himself quickly, giving himself a bodily shake as if to physically banish the thought.

Your Joonie, always so conscientious, aware of the world and of himself. The mentality he carried matters to him. Your heart warms at the knowledge of this beautiful, intelligent man before you.

Unwrapping the thin blanket from the complementary flight packet, you swing a leg over his waist, shifting until the two of you were in a comfortable position. Finally, you settle, drawing the coverlet to your chins.

“It’s okay to feel tired. You should be honest with yourself,” you murmur, fingers tracing arbitrary patterns on his chest.

Namjoon lets out an extensive sigh. It sounds uncharacteristically hollow, and you look up, worried.

“Kiss me,” he appeals. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he hoists you up to sit on his lap.

You relieve his stress in other ways, tongue down his throat and palms splayed on his chest, buttons ripped from his shirt as you ride him until the lights fade.

12 am :: and i’m not scared / of your stolen power / i see right through you any hour

“Hey.” Hoseok peers up from his fringe, exhaustion lining the dark circles beneath his eyes. The typically healthy glow to his sun kissed skin is muted, paler in the light of dawn. He’s massaging his legs, a post-concert habit he’s picked up, the strain and wear on his muscles fueling a raw burn.

“Hi,” he gives you a small smile. Despite the brief period of respite they had prior to this break, their line of work never really rested. Hoseok had spent the better part of the morning after packing experimenting with the choreography for some of the new material Namjoon and Yoongi had previewed for him.

“You overworked yourself again,” you state. He nods, guilt bleeding into the way his eyebrows quirk. He’s so like Yoongi, the two peas in a pod when it came to their individual workaholic tendencies.

“I didn’t mean to,” he admits. “I was only gonna stay for an hour, but before I knew it, it was time to go.”

You wiggle out of Jimin’s hold, gently prying his arms from where they’re wrapped securely around your waist. The 95 liner makes an unhappy sound, burying his face in your stomach as he tightens his grip.

“Jiminie.” You coax, brushing his hair back from his temple. He lets out a soft sigh and loosens his hold. “Miss you a’ready,” he slurs. Hoseok watches with soft eyes as Jimin kisses you back lazily, still drifting in and out of slumber.

“Come here,” the dancer requests faintly. You adjust the blanket over the younger once more before carefully toeing over the myriad of legs sprawled over the floor.

He scoots over, patting the space of the spacious seat, one of the many perks and necessities of their growing affluence.

“Can’t sleep?” He shakes his head ruefully, smile crooked.

You help him knead his thighs, easing some of the soreness. He curls in close, finally drifting off as you smooth over his locks rhythmically, humming a familiar tune under your breath.

7 pm EST :: you said it wouldn’t be love / but we felt the rush (felt the love) / it made us believe it there was only us

“Whoa!” Jungkook presses himself against the window as the car pulls up to the resort, eyes sparkling as he takes in the familiar cartoon characters of old-time favourites. “No way! I don’t think we’ve ever been to the main park before.”

“Tokyo’s Disneyland was just more convenient with all our promotions and travelling,” Namjoon agrees, slipping his phone into his pocket to join in the youngest’s state of admiration. Clouds were sparse, Florida’s heat seeping through with strong rays of sun even in the late afternoon.

“Did ___-noona pick this hotel?” Taehyung asks, neck craning to squish himself next to Jimin to catch a view.

Their manager nods from where he’s consulting the papers in his notepad. “She thought it might be something you’d all prefer over Four Seasons.”

“God, I love her,” Jimin says dreamily. Hoseok pats his head, grinning just as widely.

“Hyung, no,” Namjoon says when Seokjin opens his mouth. The vocalist instantly pouts. “Hey! I had a really good one.”

“Okay, I’m going to check us in,” Sejin says, one foot already through the door. “Meet us at the lobby when you’re ready.”

They make noises of agreement before five heads turn to observe two sleeping babies piled on top of one another.

Your face is tucked into Yoongi’s shoulder, his fingers gripping yours tightly, even in slumber. His other arm curls over your waist loosely, eyebags thrown into sharp relief under the bright rays filtering in through shaded glass.

“Let’s wake Yoongi-hyung up. I can carry noona,” Jungkook suggests, leaving Jimin’s jaw floored. “Hey, wait! I was just about to—”

“Good luck,” Jin claps his shoulder as he breezes by.

“Wouldn’t it be weird if Kookie just walked in with her like that?” Hoseok says absently as they wait at the side of the vehicle, baggage in hand.

“…Nah.” They chorus, chuckling as Jungkook ambles slowly toward the lobby with you tucked safely in his embrace, the flow of foot traffic ignoring him completely.

“It’s Christmas break. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that a lot of couples have come like that,” Namjoon shakes his head in amused exasperation just as Yoongi tumbles from the car, groaning as he rubs his neck.

“Fuck, that hurt like a bitch,” the composer mutters, spine cracking as he straightens. Jimin covers his mouth as he yawns, tears pricking at the intensity.

“Language, hyung!” Their leader scolds half-heartedly as they wave at their driver who moves to pull the vehicle into parking before making their way to the hotel entrance.

“I call dibs on rooming with noona!” Taehyung yells, suitcase rolling loudly behind him as he skids to a halt in front of a door. He bounces on the balls of his feet excitedly, eyes practically sparkling as he waits impatiently for the remainder of his members to catch up.

“Hyung! Be quiet,” Jungkook hisses, shifting his weight carefully as he watches you stir lightly in his arms. He’s gently cupping your neck, hair loosely braced so he doesn’t accidentally end up pulling on the strands painfully. Your lips are parted slightly, breathing even and expression peaceful. He wants to lean down and kiss you. He catches Taehyung wiggling his eyebrows at him suggestively at the corner of his eyes and flushes, swiping at him with a foot.

“Ow!” Taehyung whines, rubbing his ass with a pout. “So mean, Jungkookie.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, neck blazing scarlet.

Meanwhile, Seokjin, with RJ tucked under one and the maknae’s ridiculously heavy bag held on the other, resorts to kicking his luggage in short distances as a makeshift means of transport. Hoseok’s voice is muted though remains animated as he chatters onto the eldest. Yoongi and Jimin are similarly dragging themselves to meet them, still struggling to shake off their drowsiness.

Namjoon stands off to the side, listening as their manager quietly explains the itinerary for the afternoon. Sejin hands him a few papers and two key card holders, gesturing at the two neighbouring rooms and points at the three across from them. He makes one last sweep to ensure the boys are all present and unharmed before disappearing into his own, nodding at the other staff members—including their bodyguards—that have opted in to help supervise and provide personal safety for the band. Left to their own devices, Namjoon quickly raises his hand before Taehyung could burst from sheer enthusiasm. The singer is left with his mouth rounding the first syllable of his word, jaw snapping closed with a deepened pout.

“Okay. Here’s how this is going to work. Jungkook will room with ___. The rest of us have to pick straws.”

“What?!” Five incredulous voices meet his announcement almost in complete unison, and the leader grimaces sheepishly. “Sorry guys, but this is the only way it’s going to stay fair.”

“I was going to carry her first, but Kookie stole her away before I could!” Jimin protests, suddenly wide awake at the news. He crosses his arms huffily and glares at the youngest, who’s starting to look rather smug.

“You snooze, you lose, hyung,” Jungkook grins.

“Aish, you brat—”

“Mmm, Jungkookie?” Jimin’s arm freezes from where he’s rolling up his sweater to beat the living shit out the maknae when he hears your sleepy voice. You’re rubbing your eyes so adorably, cheeks puffy. Jungkook swears he falls more and more in love with you every time he looks at you. His heart practically inflates like a goddamn party balloon as he brushes away stray tendrils from your forehead.

“Sorry baby,” he says softly. “Were we being too loud?” He cradles you closer to his chest, your hands coming up to press against him, cuddling closer. You’re blinking slowly, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Mmm,” you shake your head. Taehyung coos, and you childishly bat his hands away from where he’s reaching over to pinch your cheeks.

“You can put me down, Kookie,” you say sleepily. He gives you a doubtful look but reluctantly helps you to your feet.

“Thank you.” He ducks his head, flushing lightly as you press a kiss against his temple.

“Aigoo, take your bag, kid,” Seokjin says, shoving the expansive black duffle into his arms before rotating his shoulder, groaning. “What do you have in there? Rocks?”

“No, just a couple of dumbbells,” he answers distractedly, still feeling light-headed from your touch as he easily picks up his bag.

“Let’s just draw from a hat,” Hoseok suggests as he takes off his bucket hat, running his fingers through his flattened locks. You spot your own baggage sitting next to Taehyung’s feet, patting his cheek fondly as he smiles, kissing your palm. Ripping out a few loose leaf pages from a legal pad, you scribble their names on unevenly torn strips of paper and drop them into the dancer’s proffered accessory.

“Yes!” Hoseok and Taehyung cheer, hugging each other tightly. Namjoon and Seokjin exchange high-fives. Yoongi and Jimin groan simultaneously.

“Why do we even need two rooms?” Yoongi complains. “I bet we could fit all of us in just one.”

“I don’t think the beds are that huge,” you giggle, a smile playing on your lips as you dump the papers into one hand and dust Hoseok’s hat off with the other. He grins, shaking out his curls.

“Let’s just cancel the other room,” the composer murmurs, coming behind you to wrap his arms around your torso. He noses the length of your neck, lips soft as they brushed your skin. Jimin seems to second this idea strongly with the way he looks at you imploringly with wide eyes and pout. “I wanna sleep with you too, noona,” he whines.

“I can talk to manager-nim,” Namjoon offers.

“I’ll go with you,” Seokjin decides. “I wanna check out the buffet while we’re at it too.”

Yoongi snorts. “The real reason why you want to go.”

Meanwhile, Taehyung is unlocking the door, shouldering it open and practically tossing his bags aside as he sighs happily, throwing himself onto one of the two huge king sized mattresses.

Seokjin shrugs unabashedly, plopping his own bag onto the hardwood desk rounding the common area.

“Is this Ariel?” Hoseok asks, wandering over to the bedroom as he sits at the edge of the same mattress, smoothing it over with a hand to examine the design.

“Yeah,” you say shyly. “I wasn’t really sure what you guys would prefer, but you did mention that you liked her—oof!” Your squeak was cut short as the rapper reaches over to pull you onto his lap, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I like it,” he murmurs. Taehyung makes a muffled noise of agreement, lost somewhere in his nuzzling of the pillows.

“Alright, hyung, let’s go,” Namjoon calls, propping open the door as he flips through the additional papers Sejin just handed him. “Just a sec,” Seokjin replies, rummaging for his sunglasses. “I’m gonna grab a snack while we’re at it.”

“___’s right here, hyung,” Jimin chimes in teasingly. He’s opted for a self-tour of the bathroom, one of your missing headbands already pushed up over his bangs and cleansing cream spread over his fingertips.

“I said a snack, not a whole eight course meal,” Seokjin answers, huffing. “Okay, let’s go.”

The door closes quietly behind them before you could stutter out a reply, Hoseok busying you with his lips, showering you in soft kisses over the apples of your ripened cheeks.

“Oh hey, there’s a folding bed with the couches,” Yoongi says, head popping from the side as he tests the spring of the sofa. “I think I’m gonna take a nap, actually …”

With one last sweet kiss, you pull away from Hoseok, who whines a bit but acquiesces as you murmur something into his ear, touching his jaw gently before he allows you to slip from his hold. He wanders over to join Yoongi, who lets out a disgruntled groan when the dancer clambers over him and settles on the right, phone in hand.

“Kookie, c’mere,” you call. The maknae comes bounding over, shaking out his locks as he pulls on a fresh shirt. It’s a plain grey tee, a tag peeking from the tips as the fabric flutters to a rest against his hips. He’s also changed into a comfortable pair of matching grey sweats.

“Lay on your stomach,” you direct as you open your travel sized med kit you’d started carrying with you whenever you travelled with the boys. The sheer amount of injuries they sustained on a regular basis had you mobilizing a mini-hospital, particularly for Jimin and Jungkook. The pair seemed especially susceptible to accidents out of the most unexpected of situations. Like ripping his heel from colliding into furniture during rehearsal just before a stage.

You remember how devastated he was, stitches stretching across skin, all wrapped in medical tape. Seokjin had been the one to call you, explaining the situation and you flew over the night of despite having been in court for most of the day. He crushed you to him the moment you stepped in, that beautiful but tired smile playing your lips, arms trembling as he buried his face in your chest. He didn’t say much, just a quiet, “please … take me home, noona.” To which you answered with a soft kiss to his temple, coaxing him up as he hobbles next to you, slowly making your way to the car where the eldest has been patiently waiting. His lashes were wet, tickling your neck from where his head remained hidden, pressed against your skin.

His doe eyes were wide and teary as he scrubbed his cheeks, leaning heavily against you. Your thumb grazed over his knuckles soothingly as he stared out the window stubbornly, upper lip quivering. You stayed with him that night, your mere presence wordless comfort as he curled up at your side, stroking his hair.

Offstage, you watched as he sang; a single silhouette under searing lights, grounded in a leather seat. You knew guilt and remorse simmered in his gaze, and if you could tell, so could his hyungs and the millions cheering for him.

“Ready to go?” You smiled, shouldering your bag as you cast one final look over your shoulder. The bass pulsates through the stadium grounds, echoing through the arena rows and reverberating through darkened skies.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” You missed the way Jungkook looked back at the wings, as if searching for a glimpse of you. But the curtains billowed behind you, footsteps lost in the noise.

“I missed you, that day. Why didn’t you come say goodbye?” Jungkook asks now, and your fingers pause from where you’re fiddling with his thin shirt. A glance to the side tells you Taehyung is fast asleep, cuddled against a pillow, gentle snores escaping parted lips. At some point, Jimin had climbed into the empty spot next to him, dragging a light sweater over his 95 liner companion and another for himself before collapsing.

“Lie down, baby,” you repeat, avoiding his heavy gaze as you push his top up. His hair, returned to its natural ebony hue, falls over his eyes, fluffy and soft. He’s been growing it out recently, the wavy strands framing his forehead. Lines of muscles stretching across gorgeous golden skin, you can’t help but run a hand down his perfectly toned torso. He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh. You can feel the goosebumps raise, and he catches your hand just as you thumb his v-line.

“Don’t,” he says, voice catching as he presses his hand over yours. “You’re distracting me.”

“Lie down and I’ll explain,” you try instead. A flicker of doubt shadows in his eyes, but he nods, scrambling onto the bed. He settles on his stomach, fidgeting slightly as he tries to find a comfortable position. He knows you’re looking at him with fond exasperation, ears pinking as he finally stops, resting his cheek against his forearms.

Swinging a leg over his narrow waist, you perch on his plump ass. You grin to yourself when you hear his muted grunt.

You carefully peel away the new pain patches he’d added this morning, just before the flight, and he barely flinches at the burn. “I’m sorry. You had to carry me,” you murmur, tracing the reddened skin outlining where the medicated dressing had been. He twists almost immediately, instinctively moving to reassure you.

“Don’t move,” you say automatically. Jungkook relaxes reluctantly, and you pat his side gently, letting him know that though you meant it, you also knew it was a choice, one made willingly and without an ounce of regret.

From the kit, you squeeze some lightly-scented lotion onto your palms, rubbing them together to warm it up before placing them over his shoulders, starting slow. He groans in satisfaction when your fingers dig at a particularly hard knot.

“Your fingers are magic,” he sighs faintly, eyes fluttering in bliss. He seems to have forgotten his earlier query all together, and falls silent soon after, as you make your way down the expanse of his back, sore muscles loosening with every knead. The room is quiet, tranquility broken by an occasional shaky exhale from Jungkook, a symphony of soft snores from the slumbering members and distant chirping of birds.

Some twenty minutes pass, your hands tiring as you wipe them down with a towel. You notice the maknae has succumbed to exhaustion himself, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Lifting yourself up and over, you begin returning your materials to the kit, bending over to carefully tuck the container next to your luggage, trying to reduce as much noise as possible.

Pulling the thin linen over him, you check to ensure he’s comfy before taking a seat next to him. Your phone buzzed from where it was thrown onto the drawer. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you squint at the screen.

[7:50] Joonbug: You awake, baby? Wanna grab some dinner?

Smiling, you mute the device before answering.

[7:50] You: Joonieeeeeeee! yessss I am. Everyone else is sleeping though, should I wake them?

He gives you the affirmative and adds that Seokjin is busy hitting up every stranger he’s met in the lobby, and begs you to save him.

You wait another five minutes before putting your phone away, leaning over to wake Jungkook with a soft kiss on his cheekbone. “Wake up, baby. Dinner time.” He groans, lifting his head up to blink at you groggily. “’M not hungry.” His voice is raspy, and you give him a knowing look when his stomach gurgles in response. He flushes darkly and buries his face back into the pillow. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

As Jungkook lethargically swims around the bed to feel for his previously discarded pieces of clothing, he finds his shirt and shorts folded neatly next to his pillow. You move to wake the remaining members as he does.

Jimin is an easy one to wake. He’s already stirring, having only been napping lightly and heard your quiet attempts to rouse the youngest. He’s rubbing his eyes, making a soft noise of surprise as your lips touch his, before melting quickly. His hands cup yours over his face, breath warm as he sighs happily when you part.

“I love you,” he whispers. Your heart flutters, cheeks colouring unwittingly as you stroke the underside of his jaw. He’s flushed similarly, eyes half-lidded, dopey smile growing as you say, “I love you more, baby.” He nuzzles your nose and then reluctantly allows you to roll over to tend to Taehyung as he stretches briefly before moving to splash some water on his face.

“TaeTae~” You sing. You tug the pillow he’s hugging to his chest away and wedge yourself in between instead. His arms tighten around you, leg hiking over your thigh. Taehyung automatically nuzzles his cheek against your chest. It’s so comfortable you’re tempted to stay, but the distant clattering and low murmurings floating from the ensuite bathroom urges you to return to work. You nudge him gently. “Tae, wake up.”

He only snuggles in closer, unwilling to rouse just yet. You kiss the corner of his eye. “Dinner.” He squirms a bit at the ticklish feeling of your lips and finally lifts his head to peer blearily at you.

Taehyung blinks once before his head drops, nestling right back. “No,” he whines childishly. The vibration of his throat, though hoarse, still manages to sound ridiculously sexy, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and you can feel his smile from where he’s pressed against you as he thumbs the sliver of skin revealed from where your shirt rises over your hip.

“We can stay in bed all you want another day,” you promise. Taehyung lifts the fabric with the tip of his nose, scattering kisses on your stomach lazily. “Mmm. I was dreaming of dandelions. They were so pretty.”

“Yeah?” Your fingers knot in his silky locks, a contented sigh escaping as you lean into the comforter.

“Yeah. But not as pretty as you,” the dark-haired man says dreamily.

“Horndog,” you say playfully, giggling as you feel the way his mouth curls into a smile, the outline etched against your lower abdomen. You allow him to remain nestled in your warmth for another minute before tugging at him.

Taehyung groans, grudgingly detaching his lips from where he’d busied himself with making his way down your navel, letting go of the band of your jeans. “Fineee. I’m up. But if Jimin used my toothbrush again, I swear …”

“Last time I checked, you were the one that used his,” you giggle.

Taehyung huffs, pouting as he slides off the mattress slowly. “Schematics.”

“I packed an extra for you,” you remind him with a light pat to his buttocks. He yelps softly when you give him a firm squeeze. “Front pocket.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively when you let go, but you give him a pointed look, thoroughly amused. “Go clean up, Tae.” He pads away to join his friend obediently, pausing by your suitcase briefly to claim the product.

Pulling on the sweater the dancer had flung over a seat earlier as you pass, you kneel at the edge of the provisional mattress where the two composers are sprawled, peacefully unaware.

“Seokie. Hoseokie.”

“Jagi?” Hoseok rasps, voice thick with sleep.

You touch his neck lightly. “Hi, baby. Time to wake up.”

He rouses slowly. Fingers stroking golden skin where his shirt rides down, exposing his gorgeous collarbones.

“Dinner,” you say. Slipping lower to trace innocent figure eights on his firm stomach.

“W-w’at’s for dinner?” His breath stutters as he blindly grasping your wrist. He moves it up, flattens your palm against his pecs.

“Dunno,” you murmur, nails scraping his nipples. He squirms, spine arching as he presses himself closer to your touch. “Let’s go find out.”

Hoseok whines at the loss of contact, tries to follow it, but you push him down gently. “Later.”

“Mmm.” He kisses the pads of your fingers where they’re outlining the shape of his cupid’s bow.

Finally, he sits up, eyes still closed, chestnut locks in complete disarray.

“You’re adorable,” you sigh, cupping his cheek. Hoseok’s smile is lopsided, drowsy as he leans into you.

A disgruntled sound echoes from where another face is burrowed deep into the comforter, interrupting your moment as you both turn to look at the source.

“I’ll let you deal with this one,” Hoseok snickers, working his shoulder as he swings his legs over the edge. You snag the hem of his tee, pulling him back for one last kiss. “Mmpf—”

“Meet you in five.” The dance makes a noise of affirmation against your lips, resisting the urge to melt beneath you as you part. He buries his face in your nape, inhaling deeply. He’s always liked your scent, light yet achingly sweet. Headier when he’s entangled with you, sweat glistening on your skin like a sheen of seduction. Of temptation. A mild addiction, and you indulge him thoroughly. Hoseok kisses the underside of your jaw, pants already beginning to draw uncomfortably tight.

God, your ability to bewitch him without even trying. Some nights it’s beyond frustrating, has him twisting and turning in his sleep, dreams tormented by the taste of your warm flesh, memory of your supple thighs and soft lips. Your kindness, the vibrancy of your spirit.

Shit, you’re going to derail him.

“Going,” he says thickly, adjusting himself quickly before clumsily scrambling off the bed. He catches the sly quirk of your mouth before he disappears around the corner, as if you know exactly what you do to him.

It’s just the two of you now. Someone’s running a shower in the background, likely Jungkook if his earlier expression of feeling rather filthy following a fifteen hour flight without having taken a beat was any indication. You can make out the distinct reverberation of Taehyung and Jimin—Hoseok joining in shortly—discussing their individual route ideas for the next day in excited tones.

“You’re staring.” His lips barely move, voice hoarse.

“I’m gazing.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s romantic,” you correct with a giggle. He peeks up at you with a look, mouth twitching, before promptly stuffing himself back into the couch.

“Come on, baby. They’re waiting for us.” Yoongi groans lowly, eyebrows knitting as he curls into himself tighter.

“Yoon—oh!” Your breath is knocked out of you as he suddenly rolls over, trapping you beneath him.

“Aren’t you hungry?” His nose skims your inner wrist where you’ve reached up to stroke his cheek.

He lowers his head to nip at you. “Hungry. Just not for food.”

Your leg moves up to hitch over his waist, knee pressed against his side. Arms sliding around his neck, you smile up at him. “Yeah? Then what are you hungry for?”

“You … obviously.” He kisses you languidly as he lifts you up until you’re straddling his lap, hands splayed on your legs, wishing you had worn those shorts he’d yanked from you at dawn. Not because he didn’t want you to wear them, no. You’d looked so delectable he had bent you against the wall, shoved a hand down your front and fingered you to completion while he rutted against you, hands groping your flesh desperately, coming in his jeans like a horny teenager. He owes you at least five pairs now.

Taehyung’s head pokes in from the corner. “Are you guys coming? Jin-hyung keeps complaining about his stomach. If we don’t go soon, he’s going to start without us.”

Yoongi sighs. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The composer sticks up his middle finger at the younger’s smirk as he passes. “Dick.”

8:10 pm :: i never regretted the day i called you mine

Dinner is rowdy.

It’s a delightfully expected affair after having been with the boys for so long. Their excitable yet humble natures are prone to alleviated activity, especially whilst shoveling good food on an empty stomach after such a long flight.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Seokjin asks between mouthfuls. Your chin is propped up, watching them with fond eyes as they laugh and converse amongst themselves. “I like watching you guys eat.”

“Or we could eat you,” Taehyung mumbles, smile innocent as you whip around to stare at him in shock. He’s twirling a piece of noodle on his fork.

“We are not having this conversation right now,” you say pointedly, pushing the utensil into his mouth.

“Why? It wouldn’t be the first time,” the singer nearly chokes when you elbow him hard.

“We’re in public.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time for that, either.”

Your entire face is on fire, letting out a strangled squeak. The only one with any decency is Namjoon, who looks thoroughly scandalized.

“Dessert, anyone?” Jungkook catches onto your pleading expression and echoes your sentiment, grabbing your hand and leading you to the sweets section quickly.

“Thank you,” you say, relieved as you kiss his cheek. “My saviour.” The maknae ducks his head shyly, fumbling with the plate as you turn to see their leader catching up.

“You, too?” Namjoon nods, exasperated as he snags a cone from the side. “If I have to hear another word about food play, I’m going to puke.”

You poke at his dimple. “As if you hadn’t done the same. You, Tae and your exhibitionism kink.” He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Point taken.”

“I don’t know how people can eat whipped cream,” The rapper comments as you make your way back. You return with a bowl of mint chocolate chip, but that’s not what they’re staring at.

He has two large scoops of plain chocolate ice cream, topped with graham cracker crumbs, chocolate chunks, chocolate sauce, whipped cream and a touch of sprinkles.

And promptly smashes them all together.

“Oh, God,” Seokjin squawks, disgust and judgment emanating like microwaves.

“Hyung, you should try some!” Jungkook says cheerfully, spooning a sizable portion, seemingly unbothered as you all watch in equal parts revulsion and awe.

“I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed,” Hoseok whispers to you.

“A little bit of both,” you murmur, stomach queasy as you push away your ration, the sight suddenly unappealing.

9:20 pm :: hey, whatcha doing for the rest of your life? / i don’t even know what i’m doing tonight

The evening is peaceful, the distinct sound of conversation muted, footsteps muffled by the gentle chirping of crickets.

He’s contemplative tonight, more so than usual. It verges onto brooding, edges into meditative.

Even the furrow in his brow is pensive.

“What’s going on?” You reach up to smooth over the frown lines. Namjoon looks up, blinking as he reorients himself.

He takes your hand, kissing your palm with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Deep in thought.”

“I know. I just want to know what about,” you say, amused.

“I’m worried,” he admits. “This tour took a lot out of us, especially Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook told me you spoke to him earlier, but I was wondering if you could—”

“Joon,” you stop him, straightening the collar of his Cuban collar shirt. “They’ll come to me when they’re ready. The best I could’ve done was being there for them when they needed it.”

“So much scrutiny. The eyes of the world on us. Almost Jungkook’s entire life has been this spotlight. And Jimin—he’s come so far, learned to accept himself as he is. Taehyung’s opening up more. Hoseok’s stopped pretending all the time. Jin’s starting to recognize his worth. Yoongi’s finally taking care of himself. But what if—”

“There are no what ifs. Just what is. ‘Born as an idol, reincarnated as an artist’, right?” You rise on your tippy toes, and he bends down to meet you as you press your forehead against his. “They’re okay. You’re all okay. Better than okay.”

“This vacation will be good for all of us,” Namjoon concludes with a sigh. His breath is warm, minty as it ghosts across your lips. “To clear our heads. Figure out where we want to go from here.”

“Just enjoy it,” you answer. The affection in your tone subdues the anxiety in his heart easily. “Like the 20 something year old men you all are.”

When he kisses you, his apprehension thaws. Namjoon slides his fingers through your hair, arms cradling you gingerly and kisseskisseskisses you until you’re breathless and looking up at him in wonderment, eyes soft and tender and every nerve is on fire, every touch setting him ablaze.

You’re looking at him like you love him.

Fuck, you’re so beautiful.

December 30

12:05 am :: it’s everything you wanted / it’s everything you don’t

“Jimin. Jimin!” He shoots up, waking with a gasp. Dark hair disheveled, looking around wildly. Sheets tangled and body burning. He pulls on his shirt violently, the material plastered to him like a second skin.

“Hey, hey.” Your hand is cool, steadies him as it rests against his shoulder. Jimin thrashes, struggling to wrestle the fabric from his chest.

“Hey—hey! Jimin, look at me.”

You hold his face, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s crying, cheeks damp.

“Bad dream?” He nods furiously, hiccupping as he weakly tries to scrub them away with the heel of his palms.

“Let me get you some water,” you say softly as you coax them away, lacing your fingers through his. Jimin shakes his head rapidly, squeezing your hands as he croaks, “Don’t go. Please.”

His throat feels sticky, stomach roiling. Nauseous.

You rearrange the pillows and help him sit up against them. “Breathe, baby.”

Jimin buries his head in your stomach, still trembling as he clutches at your waist. “N-noona …”

“Oh, Chimmy,” you say sorrowfully, stroking his hair. His pain is palpable; the mental scarring much deeper than he often lets on. “What’s going on in that busy head of yours?”

His locks are damp and you push his fringe back to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Jimin.”

The singer’s grip slackens, letting out a shaky sigh as he reluctantly allows you to pull away. He whispers a small, “okay” at your murmured reassurance and watches as you make your way to the kitchen. Taehyung takes your place shortly as he returns from the bathroom with a cold towel.

Jimin can dimly make out the sounds of his remaining band members speaking in lowered tones just outside of the bedroom, likely woken by his vocal thrashing.

Guilt wells up and he pulls the covers up to his chin as he sinks down in embarrassment.

In the living room where they’ve gathered around the sofa bed, Hoseok sighs. You glance over from where you’re fiddling with the coffee maker.

He looks weary, rubbing his temples as he explains, “He’s been crying and sleep talking almost every other night since Osaka. It’s died down recently but he always says he doesn’t remember what the dreams are.”

Yoongi throws an arm over his eyes from where he’s still lying down. “Do you have any ideas on what they could be about?” He’s tired, they all are. It’s been a long day.

But it’s Jimin, and they’d do anything for him.

“Not a clue,” the dancer groans, flopping back. You rip open a tea bag, listening silently as you fill up the hotel endorsed mug with hot water and drizzle it lightly with honey. A small packet, carried solely for these moments.

“Something to do with the tour, probably,” Namjoon guesses. His fingers drum against his thigh, hair a crow’s nest with how fiercely the strands are sticking up. Seokjin, too, looks uneasy as he runs a hand down his face.

Jungkook’s chewing his lower lip, expression clouded.

“Go back to bed,” you urge them as you walk over with the steaming cup. “You can’t rush him.”

“I’m just worried he’ll break down,” the eldest says tersely, trailing after you as you tug at him to stand. The rapper follows suit, and the two exchange their concerns with the vocalist in question quietly.

Jimin takes your proffered drink gratefully, the pit in his stomach alleviated with every sip.

“I don’t—I don’t remember,” he says automatically when Namjoon asks.

You look at him searchingly, but his hazel eyes are dark and unreadable. Troubled.

“Okay,” you say simply, setting the cup to the side when he’s had his fill. “Try to get some rest.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, settling beside him as he lays his head on your arm. The boys grudgingly disperse after dropping their own kisses on your cheeks.

“Don’t even think about it,” you thumb his lower lip as he tries to apologize. Jimin kisses the pad of your finger and burrows into your warmth instead.

When his breathing evens out and the lines on his face smooth out, you know he’s somewhere better. His grasp gradually loosens, lulled by your gentle touch as you smooth over his curls rhythmically.

Once you’ve ensured Jimin is, in fact, resting peacefully, you adjust the pillows and draw away. You gingerly shake your arm, needles and pins stinging dully.

Taking a cursory glance around the room, you take count of your boys, only to realize there is one missing. “Where did he disappear to?” You murmur, frowning.

You turn when Seokjin, drifting off quickly, manages to reply groggily, “He said he wasn’t sleepy anymore. Try the gym.” He doesn’t sound too concerned over the departure of their maknae. It wouldn’t be the first time.

2:15 am :: i’m not a stranger / no, i am yours

Moonlight streaks through the glass plane, the ceiling a semi-circle arching over an impressive pool. The water ripples, the facility silent save for the occasional surface break for air. Footsteps muted, you pad your way to the corner of the tiles. He moves gracefully, the refraction of light scattering his image momentarily as he weaves through the lanes.

“Jungkook.”

Spoken softly, almost a whispered sigh when he comes up for a breath and yet he somehow manages to hear you. He always does—almost like he’s attuned to your very being. He finishes his final lap with a front stroke, giving himself a quick shake as he resurfaces.

He hauls himself up, droplets clinging to his golden skin, corded muscle bunching enticingly with every movement. Long, tousled dark locks plastered against his forehead, he sweeps them back with a hand. You reach out to trace a finger over that vein running down the length of his arm, touch light as he sucks in a breath in response. Goosebumps raise instantaneously and he shivers.

You wordlessly gesture for him to follow you. He takes your hand and trails after you, obediently taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs as you settle behind him. A stack of fluffy white hotel provided towels lie on the small patio table next to the two of you.

“Lean back.” Jungkook flinches at the feel of your warm breath tickling his ear, and you stifle your giggle at the way his body heats at the sound of your voice.

He closes his eyes as you begin massaging a towel through his damp tresses, squeezing the tips of his strands to wring them out effectively. The effect is soothing and the tension visibly seeps from him as you work in silence. When his hair is sufficiently dried, you toss the towel to the side in favour of a new one.

Then you touch his shoulder blades with the fabric. He stiffens instantly. “Kook.” A chastise and warning rolled into a gentle tone. He swallows hard.

“S’rry,” he mumbles, shifting as he forces himself to relax once more. It feels weird. The soft material invites minimal friction, though something about the action feels oddly erotic. His skin prickles, sensitivity spiking as you run the towel down the length of his spine.

“Stand up.”

He tenses, rising to his feet slowly. Then he turns.

His midnight black hair curls around his temples, dishevelled from your previous labour. The waistband of his swim shorts hug his hipbones, outlining the dips of his v-lines rather sharply. Hard muscles encased in bronzed skin, powerfully built, yet his narrow frame suggests a rather paradoxical fragility to him.

He’s breathtakingly gorgeous. The epitome of temptation. A purity you cannot help but long to ruin.

One step and you’re right in front of him, toes touching. A finger trailing down his chiselled jaw line, pressing against his pulse, fluttering rapidly beneath your touch. His skin is startling hot; burning, like he’s running a fever.

Jungkook exhales.

You are an addiction. But unlike a drug, it doesn’t leave him high and dry, not a temporary fix for a very permanent problem. There is no problem—you simply make his days better, brighter. His fame, his success—what is it all for, if he has no one to share it with? You aren’t his entire world. His resounding purpose in life. He doesn’t need you to be those things. Doesn’t need you to be his sun. Instead, you enrich his universe. Fill in the space between the stars in his galaxies. You bring totality. A completeness he’s never experienced before.

Amidst the happiness, there is also anger, frustration, sadness—you make him feel. Everything.

“What am I supposed to do … when you keep looking at me like that?” He whispers hoarsely. His eyes are half-lidded, dark. Desire swirls in those pools, twists the coil in his stomach until he’s wrought with an insatiable thirst.

He wants to be cherished. Each touch a token of your love, your affection. A promise to keep his heart safe. It’s only ever been yours to take, after all.

“Do you want me to stop?” You murmur, pausing as you linger at his collarbone. He shakes his head rapidly.

“Please,” he whispers, fingers flexing restlessly from where they rest at his sides.

“It drives me crazy. I always have this need to wreck you. That expression of yours … I want it. I want to devour you.” Jungkook trembles, arousal spiking in his blood. Cock noticeably straining against the polyester material of his trunks.

“If I took you against the wall? Fucked you so hard you couldn’t think anymore?” You croon, fingers skimming his chest as you circle him until you reach his back. “Couldn’t walk?”

“What—what if I want that?” His chest is already heaving, sweat trickling down his sternum.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?” A kiss between his shoulders. Lips dragging down the curve of his spine.

He tastes like sweat, the cologne of chlorine sharp, yet his own unique scent stirs faintly beyond the layers of artificial flavouring.

It hurts, how effortlessly you stimulate him with your mere presence and a few lilting words.

When you tug his weeping erection free, he’s already delirious with lust, cock throbbing and flushed angrily.

“W-want it,” he babbles. “Wanna be f-fucked by you. P-please!” Rationally, he knows you can’t do that here, that you didn’t bring such conspicuous toys, but the ache is intense.

He gasps like he’s been torn apart by a gunshot when you take him into your mouth, doubling over as his hands automatically grip your hair. Any other day you would’ve punished him for his carelessness, but tonight it’s about him. This whole vacation is—it’s your turn to give them the world—or as much of your world as you can.

His precum is salty, the heavy weight of his dick on your tongue makes you dizzy, panties growing slick at the feel.

The marble digs into your knees, but the discomfort fades as you watch him lose himself to the pleasure.

His sensitivity is a curse, he thinks dimly. Makes it so easy for you to make him fall apart.

You tongue over the vein running through his engorged cock, thumbing his slit. Spit dribbles down your chin as you take him in deeper.

“___! Ah! Uh—ugh,” he sobs, hips thrusting erratically. There are tears streaming down his cheeks, head thrown back in bliss.

He’s drooling, breathing ragged as he mindlessly chases his pleasure, and you let him fuck your mouth until he’s keening. “I—I’m—ah!” Your nails rake his thighs as you release him.

His mind blanks, ears ringing with white noise as he tumbles over the edge.

He cums in ropes, staining his stomach and splattering the tips of his fringe.

“Made such a mess, baby,” you coo. He’s shaking, barely coherent as you swipe at his pecs for a taste. His eyes are glazed over, mind still numb as he croaks your name feebly. You stand, wiping your mouth hastily as he wobbles slightly before collapsing onto you. Catching him with clumsy hands, he practically melts into you, nuzzling your stomach.

Reaching for fresh towel, you clean him up slowly. Jungkook sighs softly, gripping your wrist loosely. “I love you.”

You kiss his forehead. “And I love you.”

You grab your toiletry bag as you help him up. You lead him to the showers, him stumbling after you with weak knees. Turning the knob and testing the temperature, you strip quickly before pushing Jungkook against the wall.

Jungkook gasps, tiles cold against his feverish skin and his back arches as you drizzle vanilla body wash over his chest, trickling down his stomach.

He’s chanting your name, the words prayers on his lips as you wash him, still so responsive though your touches are purely platonic.

“Noona,” he breathes. “Please.” He wants more. He’s craving you. It liquefies his insides, the yearning.

“Are you sure?” You rake his wet bangs back, water crashing down between you. “Yes,” he says as he kisses you hard.

The empty stalls echo his beautiful, broken moans when you bend him over and make him cum against the wall.

10:56 am :: ‘cause i don’t care when i’m with my baby, yeah / all the bad things disappear / and you’re making me feel like maybe i am somebody

“We slept in,” Seokjin complains loudly as he rolls off the bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. There’s a rather suspicious flick of hair that resembles a cowlick sticking from his head.

It’s a disaster; their clocks were all synched the night before for 9 am, but they’ve all opted to slam the snooze button, including you. The only other person awake is Hoseok, bright-eyed and fully dressed as he helps you rouse the other members.

“Coming,” you call, relief washing over you as you open the door to room service.

“Guys, breakfast!” You yell as you lay out the plates and cutlery. Chaos. That’s all you see.

Jimin and Taehyung are scrambling over each other for dibs on the bathroom. Jungkook’s hopping around, wrestles his socks on as he shoves on a pair of shorts. Namjoon’s sitting on a chair, flipping through a park guide, shirtless and bleary-eyed.

“Tae, go wake Yoongs, please,” you say distractedly as the waiter pulls out a bottle of banana milk. “Kook, drink.” You’re certain the cat-like composer remains buried somewhere beneath the sheets, Taehyung stumbling over with a toothbrush hanging askew from his mouth.

The maknae obediently starts gulping down his daily dose of liquid puberty alongside a piece of buttered toast, Jimin trotting over to spear a pancake and snag a bottle of water.

“How are you feeling, baby?” You ask as you slather on some peanut butter onto another piece, topped off with strawberry slices, and slide it onto a plate at the side for Taehyung.

“I’m good, noona.” Logically, his body should still be suffering from the lingering effects of jetlag and the events earlier, but he’s used to this kind of schedule – and he feels strangely refreshed in spite of it all.

“And you, Chims? Did you sleep well after last night?” You examine him as he drinks. Jimin nods, smile small but genuine. He looks relaxed, face and there is no tightness in the crinkle of his eyes. Satisfied, you turn to see Hoseok, who’s returned with your purse in hand.

You take it gratefully, pointing at the makeshift breakfast bar you’ve set up as you start throwing things into your bag. Sunscreen—“Taehyung, you have to rub it in harder”—water—“No Sprite, sorry Hobi. It’ll explode when we open it”—sunglasses—“Just keep them with me, Joon, you nearly lost them twice on the way here”—and wallet—“No, I have enough cash for food, stop handing me bills, Yoongi!”

“Alright, boys! Let’s go,” you clap your hands. A flurry of movement and body parts colliding, Namjoon yanking on a shirt, Jungkook flipping on his bag, Yoongi spraying mosquito repellant liberally like cologne, Hoseok patting lotion onto his neck calmly, Taehyung furiously scrubbing his face but somehow still managing to look like a badly painted ghost, Jimin fiddling with something in his hands, Seokjin adjusting the straw hat on his head, and you’re out.

2:00 pm :: please take me away from here / when i’m far too tired to fall asleep

“Noona,” he whispers. He slips something plastic and cool into your hand.

You inhale sharply. “Jimin.”

You’re in line for a coaster—a mild one, with no real drop, mostly for the creative effects and characterisation—and though the wait is shorter with your fast passes, there’s still significant time before you reach the front.

Glancing around, the boys are otherwise occupied. Hoseok is busy panicking and blowing into one of the barf bags you tucked into his bag after the plane as a gag gift, moaning as he begs Yoongi to ditch with him, to which the composer only shakes his head with an exasperated grin.

Jungkook’s taking some scenery shots for the upcoming GCF from the ledge of the sloped building the line is curved around. Namjoon’s scribbling in his pocket-sized notebook, likely lyrics if his head bopping and smile are any indications. Taehyung and Seokjin are fooling around, joking and laughing.

His neck flushes, but he meets your gaze evenly, amber irises blown out and wide. Imploring. He needs this. Needs you.

You run your thumb over the button, rolling the device in your palm contemplatively, eyes lidded.

And when he grips your arm, doubling over as he lets out an indiscernible gasp, lost in the music and wind, no one is wiser.

“Wanna take one home?” You say, kissing his jaw as he fixes his shorts. His blush is a vibrant scarlet as he nods into your neck.

You catch Namjoon’s knowing look when the two of you catch up outside the store. Smoothing over the glossy picture, you slide the photo into your purse with a finger to your lips.

3:40 pm :: you know i love you, did i tell you ever tell you? / you make it better like that

Your laughter fills the air, loud and unabashed as you smile up at him prettily.

He lowers the camera, chest tight.

He never thought he’d see the day, could never dare to dream of it. The nights spent trying to hold you together, your body warm and soft in his embrace, he forgets just how real this is.

“Joon! Tae, what is that? Oh, no—Yoongi, not you too …!”

“Thanks, hyung.” Hoseok turns to see Jungkook wiping his damp hands on his shirt as he makes his way to him from the restroom.

“No problem,” he answers tersely, returning the camera gingerly.

The dancer runs a hand through his hair, and counts his lucky stars.

6:32 pm :: it’s alright, now count 1,2,3 and forget / erase all the sad memories / hold each other’s hands and smile

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

He exhales slowly. It doesn’t surprise him anymore, the way the mere sound of your soft voice somehow manages to ease the ache.

“Fine,” he croaks. He tries to shift, and winces immediately at the way the pain resonates sharply in his knee.

“Liar,” you murmur, taking a seat at the edge of the couch. Exasperation and a touch of fondness seep into your tone at the way he attempts to mask his groan of pain with a vague cough. Pushing off his cap, you weave your fingers through his dark-coloured locks. He nuzzles into your calming touch, sighing in relief.

“Okay, my body feels like lead,” he admits. “But I can’t give up now. I think I’m going to start working out to increase my endurance too. Fake Love is really taking its toll.”

“What are you thinking? Treadmill?” You muse absently. Jimin gives you a small smile. “Something like that.”

It quiets for a moment. And then – “I don’t want to be like this anymore,” he whispers suddenly. A lone tear tracks its way down his cheeks, and he reaches up to swipe it away, embarrassed. You catch his hand, kissing his palm. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” he rasps. His eyes are puffing up, cheeks reddening and you know he’s desperately fighting the urge to cry.

His left leg is alleviated, ice pack adjusted firmly on his kneecap, pain medication subduing the rolling waves of discomfort.

“You’re so strong. It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay. You can do this,” you breathe. Leaning in, you press your forehead against his. “Let go. Please. It’s just me.” His lips tremble and he bites it hard.

And then he’s shaking silently, shoulders quivering, and when your arms come around him, Jimin grips you tightly. Careful not to jostle his body too much, you cradle him close, thumbing the wet trails tenderly.

“Jimin. Jimin. Jiminie.” He blinks, eyes refocusing on your worried expression, realizing you’re waving a hand in his face.

He registers the dull ache in his arms, and looks down to see dumbbells dangling from his hands. “Oh,” he says weakly, setting them down.

“What’s going on?” He can feel your concern boring holes into his head. He just shrugs uncomfortably. “I … don’t really want to think about it right now.”

A low grunt attracts his attention as he peeks up. To witness their dark-haired producer shaking underneath you, arms wound tightly around you as he pants into the crook of your neck. You’re straddling him where he’s seated on the seated press machine, hips stuttering as Yoongi moans brokenly.

“Are you—is his—?” Jimin splutters, shock and arousal flitting through him as he stares. Yoongi looks positively wrecked, veins standing out harshly as he strains to keep himself in check.

You miss dinner when you finally leave the gym.

11:59 am :: it’s everything you wanted / it’s everything you don’t / it’s one door swinging open / and one door swinging closed

“Do you ever regret this?” Your voice a whisper, fingers tracing the slope of his nose, the pillows of his lips. The darkness engulfs you, but the curtain pulled over your heads remains a haven for the weary.

He nips at your touch playfully, eyes a gentle, smoldering obsidian. “Knowing you has changed everything for us. Made us remember we’re more than just idols, we’re people. We hurt, we desire, we love. We have hopes, dreams beyond just our professions. What we want in life, the person we choose to be.”

“I’ve lived this moment on stage a thousand times,” Seokjin murmurs against your lips as he bridges the gap to pull you close, exhales his confession like a secret, “And I would gladly give it all up for just another moment with you.” A piece of an untold truth, he carefully carves his heart out and offers it to you on a golden platter.

You fold his soul into a crane and tuck it inside your own.

December 31

1:50 am :: i am not ashamed anymore / i want something so impure

“T-that’s disgusting.” Even as he says it, however, his cock twitches, knuckles whitening from where they clutch the counter edge.

“A-ah!” He shudders, abdomen clenching sporadically as the chill trails down his stomach. “I-it’s c-cold.”

“Says the one whose mouth was wide open for Tannie,” you murmur, hands running down his front slowly. He flushes darkly. “T-that’s different.”

Ice cream drips from his honeyed skin, muscles rippling as he flexes. Your tongue follows the melting path, and he tosses his head back, agony ripping through him as he desperately searches for friction.

“Tell me, Hoseok,” you purr, biting the shell of his ear softly, “What is it you want?”

“You,” he pants, dark eyes blazing with something gold. “I want you to own me, to fuck me like you never want to let go. I want you to love me.”

“I’ve always loved you,” you say quietly, thumbing his cheekbones. Tears stream down his face when you sink down on him, marking his flesh until your galaxy is seared on his skin. He’s remade with every roll of your hips, seduced by your sweet touches.

2:30 am :: you better impress now, watching my dress now fall to the floor / crawling underneath my skin, sweet talk with a hint of sin

Namjoon blinks once. Then he raises his hands to rub his eyes furiously. And blinks rapidly. Nope, he’s not dreaming. That really is Hoseok’s face buried in your cunt.

“Huh,” he says mildly.

5:20 pm :: i’ll seek you out / flay you alive

“You like it, don’t you? The idea that anyone can see you with your dick hanging out for the world to see like a common whore?”

Taehyung’s cheek is pressed against the tinted windows, sunset skies weaving faded melodies over his nudity. A painter’s exhibit come alive.

“Don’t you?” You snarl, yanking at his tresses. Taehyung jerks back, length weeping as his precum smears the glass.

“Y-yes,” he gasps, eyes rolling back as you scissor him, adding another finger.

“Beautiful,” you press the words into the dip of his spine. His cock is easily the longest out of them all, throbbing painfully. He trembles, struggling to stay upright. The ache is delicious.

You spread his legs almost obscenely as you fuck him, lube dribbling down his inner thighs and staining the wood flooring.

“Come for me, baby.” You bite his clavicle as he sobs, spilling over himself and coating the window pane white.

January 1

12:00 :: cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains / and i’ll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

“Happy New Year, baby.”

His lips taste like champagne; his tastes like wine. His smile is gummy; his is a beam. His touch is delicate; his is languid. His kiss is slow, savouring; his is sweet, cherishing. His body is hard, solid, muscles sinewy and refined; his is softer, leaner.

He smells like rain, the earth, parchment; he smells like peaches, lavender, pumpkin spice.

They smell like the promise of forever.

10:12 pm :: think about what you believe in now / am i someone you cannot live without?

“That night,” he takes a breath. “The nightmare—it was about you. And—and me. It’s hard to explain, hard to describe. It’s like losing everything we shared, how much you’ve made, shaped and changed me, everything I learned since meeting you.”

“You wouldn’t have liked the old me. I got mad easily, cried a lot and tried too hard to be something I wasn’t.”

“Jimin—”

“Wait, please,” he begs, kissing your knuckle. “I need to say this. All this time, I struggled to place what this is. What this feeling is.”

“The world is so beautiful with you in it,” he whispers. “Everything is brighter, more vivid. The stars, the skies, every touch, every taste. Sometimes I feel like being on stage pales so much in compared to this. You, being here.” He unfurls your hand, presses his palm against yours. Warmth bleeds through every brush of skin.

“But you also enhance each experience. Because I know, at the end of the day, you’re watching me—and that I’ll be coming home to you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. More than the dancing, the singing, my career—a home. You gave it to all of us. And I hope,” he exhales, smile shy as he steps forward to drape his scarf over your neck, “That you will let us do the same. To be your refuge. For as long as you’ll have us.”

“And if I say forever?” You murmur. Hardly daring to be serious, but only timid honesty rings through.

“Then marry me. Marry us.” His eyes are bright, determined. Doesn’t falter even as you suck in a breath, heartbeat fluttering erratically.

“We know we asked you to wait, but we can’t anymore.” It’s Hoseok’s voice. You flinch in surprise, hand automatically starting to pull away from Jimin’s, but his grip tightens.

“I’ve never wanted more, before. But I do with you. I want everything with you,” he goes on earnestly.

They step out from the shadows one at a time, likely having been waiting in the wings since you’d arrived.

“I don’t another day to pass where I’m waking up without you next to me,” Jungkook whispers. Doe eyes shining in the dark. “I want to share my life with you. The good, the bad, everything in between. The laughter, the tears, the heartbreak. All of it. Whatever’s left, I want to have experienced it knowing you’re right there with me.”

“You make me question everything,” Namjoon exhales. “Make me a better person, make me want to be better. Not just for you, but for me. I started to learn what it really meant to love myself.”

“Your compassion is a gift,” Seokjin murmurs. “So much about you is. I lose all my senses around you, an intoxication I can’t shake off.”

“Made me realize that learning to rely on someone else isn’t a bad thing. That sharing isn’t redirecting burden,” Taehyung says shyly. “To conquer your adversities together, because you can’t do everything alone.”

“It is all yours to take … if you would have us,” Yoongi says, smile quietly hopeful as he flips open a velvet box. “To have and to hold, until death do us part.”

“Walk this life with me. With us,” he pleads softly. So softly it breaks you.

You kiss him. All of them, first hard and desperate, and then gently and lovingly. Yoongi slides the ring on, the band a welcomed weight onto your finger as Namjoon nips your lower lip teasingly.

“And maybe … just maybe, a little longer than eternity,” Taehyung’s smile is secretive when you reach him, a curious mysterious edge to that boxy grin of his, but the half-formed question barely materializes, brushed away like wind when he kisses you.

Your hand slides over his chest, and his own rises to cover yours, holding you fast to the steady pulse of his life.

11:11 pm :: when violet eyes get brighter / and heavy wings grow lighter / i’ll taste the sky and feel alive again / and i’ll forget the world that i knew / but i swear i won't forget you / oh if my voice could reach back through the past / i’d whisper in your ear / “oh darling i wish you were here”

You’ll never have to walk alone again.

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sleepychai-fics · 3 years

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Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 4 - The Proposition

Inform me if I need to put in any warnings for this chapter. ALSO I'd like to apologise for the long break between chapters, life has been hectic and things got out of hand for a bit. Hopefully it wont happen a second time.

Word count: 5,472

Pronouns - Female

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO @doughnuts-5ever FOR BETA READING THIS ENTIRE SERIES. I KEEP FORGETTING TO ADD THIS SHOUTOUT CAUSE I POST THESE CHAPTERS AT 1 AM LIKE THE NIGHT OWL I AM. SO BIIIIIIG THANK YOU TO YOU BB, YOU MAKE THIS STORY MAKE SENSE WHEN MY BRAIN DONT

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic.

However, Hajime Shinsou is NOT my oc. He is an oc created by Keiid, who used to have tumblr but now uses twitter. Please keep that in mind.

Feedback is appreciated!

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“What do we know about this girl?” Tsukauchi flips open the folder full of papers in front of him, eyes darting across the pages briefly taking in the information.

Aizawa sighs, lifting up one of the papers and reading off of it. “She’s been seen as a vigilante on the streets for a little over two years now. How long she’s been on the streets in general is unknown. Her quirk involves moving objects through shadows. It’s believed she has other accomplices, however we don’t know for sure.” He ends by tossing the paper back in the folder.

Tsukauchi hums. “Is she the one we’re looking for?”

“I hope so.”

“What about her suspected accomplices?”

Aizawa takes out another piece of paper from a different folder. “Our informant tells us she lives with many other people on the streets. Rumors say that the group is the line between villains and heroes.” His tired eyes look over to the police officer. “We’re not sure how to interpret that.”

A groan leaves the officers lips as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll interview her once she wakes up. We can negotiate living conditions with her. Offer her the placement and training in exchange for her compliance and any requests she may ask.”

With a yawn, Aizawa nods. “What do you suspect she’ll ask for?”

“Not too sure. Despite what we have on her, she’s still unknown to us. Our data banks have nothing on her. It’d be your job to get to know her.”

Aizawa groans. “I know that. But I think Hisashi is more up to that task.”

Tsukauchi smiles. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“It was part of the deal. Whisper held up her end, now I need to hold up mine.”

“It’s a big task to hold up.”

Aizawa hums in agreeance. “That’s why I offered a trial period. If she proves worthy to be a hero, then I’ll make it a permanent deal.”

“Whisper has offered to ensure a steady supply of information on other underground personnel if you were to make it a full time deal.” Tsukauchi reminds him.

Aizawa nods. “Are you sure-”

An alarm blares loudly through the speakers, interrupting the two men and instantly raising them on high alert. The conference room doors slam open, a security guard standing at the entrance.

“I apologise for the interruption but she’s escaped her room!”

Aizawa stands up from his chair, almost knocking it over. “Do you know where she’s headed?”

“They report she’s just entering the cafeteria, possibly towards Ward E.”

The two men race out the door, following the guard as he races towards your direction.

~*~

Your senses come back slowly. First, it’s touch. Whatever room you’re in, it’s got a cold atmosphere to it. If you were conscious enough, you’d be clutching to your thin jacket. As the thought crosses your mind, you take note of the feeling of the fabric, definitely not the same kind of material as your jacket. But despite its foreignness, it holds you in strange comfort. However, the feeling doesn’t last long as your hearing starts to kick in.

Two voices - one feminine and the other masculine, speaking in a soft tone. Along with the voices, you hear a steady beeping sound. A heart monitor? You hear it pick up as the rest of your senses come to life. The pungent smell of sanitising chemicals invades your nostrils and has you scrunching your nose in response. One of the voices gasps and speaks to the other. Your eyes are heavy and your body urges you to return to the land of peaceful slumber, but with a strong will, you open your eyelids.

Everything is blurry. Patches of colours hover over your vision before flicking to a mixture of white shades. You hear things shuffle around and clang against metal, only making you work harder at your vision. In an attempt to clear your vision, you rapidly blink your eyes. However, a bright light shines into your eye and forces you to squint. In a burst of panicked adrenaline, you lash out.

From what you can comprehend, you throw out your fist, hitting the figure above you. Ignoring the scream of pain, you jump up out of what you suspect to be a bed and scamper across the floor. You trip into a wall and turn your body around to face the mess you seemed to have caused.

You shake your head and rub at your eyes in another attempt to clear your vision. As it begins to clear, the masculine voice speaks.

“Hey! Let’s calm down. There’s no need to be scared.” You focus on the person closest to you. His hair is a terrible mess of purple. A white coat lays over a blue shirt and brown pants. As your vision clears by the second, you recognise more of his facial features and you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. His dark eyes stare at you earnestly, but it’s his eyebags that strike you with an eerie recognition.

You notice his hand cast behind him and you follow it to a woman in similar attire to him, laying on the ground. She has one hand propping her upper body up off the floor, while her other hand covers her lower face, blood seeping in between her fingers.

You return your sight to the man and attempt to speak, however it comes out raspy. After clearing your throat, you try again. “Who are you?”

The doctor responds calmly, making slow movements with his hands as he speaks. “My name is Hajime Shinsou. I know that this seems scary at the moment, but you need to trust that I won’t hurt you.” Shinsou attempts to take a step closer but retracts it as you push your body further against the wall. “You might recognise me, more so my son but let's face it, he’s practically a carbon copy of me.”

Your vision finally starts to clear, enough for you to make out specific features that you’ve definitely seen before. But he’s way too tall from what you can remember. “Why would I recognise you? Your son?”

The slight upturn of his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “A couple days ago, you saved my son from a group of gang members. It was by a karaoke restaurant. He has purple hair, just like me. He even has the same eyebags as me.” As Shinsou goes through his explanation, your memory begins to jog.

“The… the gang. They uhm... they attacked a restaurant and took a kid hostage.” Shinsou nods. “I stopped them and saved the kid.”

“Yes. My son appreciates you. I do too.”

Alarming questions begin to spew in your mind. “How did you know it was me? Where am I? Why am I here?!” Each question grows more desperate as your (e/c) scan the entirety of the room. Thankfully you chose the wall close to the door.

“It’s okay. No one intends to harm you here.”

“Bullshit. Where am I?!” You argue back, glaring at him with irritation.

Shinsou continues to remain calm, despite the growing panic radiating off of you. “You’re in a hospital in northeast Tokyo.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes widen in shock. “Northeast?!”

With a nod, he responds carefully. “Yes. I understand you may be in shock. But I promise you that I don’t mean you any harm-”

“I want to leave.”

He sighs heavily. “I know, but I’m sorry to say I can’t allow-”

“I want to leave. NOW!” You scream this time, eyes brimming with tears you fight to extinguish. “I can’t be here, I have to leave this place.”

“Why don’t we just sit down and have a calm cha-”

“No! I can’t stay here! I have to leave!” You throw your hands out, intent on using your quirk to push back the doctor. But when that doesn’t work, you falter. “Wha… Why? What happened to my quirk?” A few stray tears slither down your face despite your best efforts. “What did you do to my quirk?!”

“We’ve injected you with quirk suppressants. It was protocol. I’m sorry.” You can hear his genuine apology, but you ignore it through your own raging emotions.

“I’m leaving.”

Hajime nods, knowing there’s nothing else he can do. “I understand. But you have to know I can’t let you go without calling it in.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care.” You leave him no breath to reply, walking towards the door. Before you leave, you snatch a spare white coat from a nearby hook and throw it over yourself.

As the door clicks behind you, you take a moment to assess your surroundings. A window down the hall shows an orange hued sky, although it's difficult to determine whether it’s dusk or dawn. A couple of doctors scatter the large hall, but they’re too busy looking down at clipboards to notice you. You waste no second more before walking down the hall, head tilted down to avoid arousal of your presence.

It’s so foreign, so clean and pristine. Tears are prepared to fall at any moment, but you fight against them. It’s exhausting and horrifying, it’s taking all of you not to bolt out the nearest window.

Every turn you take, every corridor you look down leads you to the belief that you're stuck in a labyrinth. It all looks the same. The room placements, the nurses, the machines littered here and there. Everything is almost the exact same and it scares the living shit out of you.

Finally, after what seems like hours of endless wandering, you come across two double doors. They appear to lead to another part of the hospital. You take a second to glance around you. There’s no other way to go besides through these doors, at least no other way you’ve been able to discover anyway. Without another second to hesitate, you go through the doors.

It’s similar to the place you just came from, except there are fewer private rooms and more public beds. They’re all aligned against the wall and separated by at least a couple of meters. Curtains hang between them, offering visual privacy. More nurses and doctors operate within the space, working with patients and running to various desks.

As you take in the scenery from the doors, you hear a voice call out from your left.

“Hey, are you-?”

You turn to look at the voice, and your heart drops. Realisation dawns on your face the second you notice the security badge. Unfortunately, the guard comes to his own realisation.

The guard opens his mouth wide, probably to yell out, but you don’t give him the chance to. With adrenaline behind your muscles, you push at his chest, forcing him to back into a moving cart. The noise alerts the entire area and within seconds it turns to chaos.

You take off in a sprint down the hall, leaving the sounds of screams and yells behind you. Each turn you come upon, you run to the wall and push yourself off of it, maintaining momentum in your run. As you take another turn, you throw a glance behind you. Security guards are close behind you, as well as a few men dressed in white coats, seemingly doctors aiding in the chase.

An alarm blares loudly throughout the hospital, red lights blinking slowly at every corner. You ignore them all, focused on improvising an escape plan.

As you turn another corner, you're faced with a set of double doors. With no other choice, apart from the army of men behind you, you barge through the doors.

You thank the high being that it's an open spaced cafeteria. More space to run, more visualisation, more shit to throw, and most importantly, fewer hallways to get lost in.

People scream and scatter out of their chairs as you vault over tables. Every chance you get, you flick trays and food behind you in an attempt to slow down those behind you. You make the quick and random decisions to leap over tables to either side of you, making it even harder for the chasers to predict your direction.

However, more men come from the opposite direction and appear a few tables before you. Without thinking, you pick up a tray of food and throw it at them. They throw their arms up to deflect the tray and in turn lose sight of you for just a second.

You take the opportunity to take a sharp turn in the other direction. Unfortunately for you, the only direction left for you to go is through another set of doors that no doubt leads to another maze of hallways.

The second you go through the doors, you duck down, avoiding the few crackling electricity sticks that jab towards you. You slip underneath one, tripping the guy in the process and creating a roadblock of a few seconds.

You bolt to the left, tossing things nearby onto the ground, leaving a maze of objects behind you. Every cart you pass by gets toppled onto the ground and earns you the precious seconds you desire.

You’re so focused on the people around you that you don’t notice thin white cloth wrapping around you. It snaps tight around you before you can even think. Your arms are pinned to your side and your legs are immobilised, causing you to fall flat to the ground.

As soon as you land on the ground, grunting from impact, electricity violently courses throughout you as multiple electrical batons prod at you. You blackout in seconds.

~*~

Your senses return much quicker the second time around. As soon as the bright light enters your eye, you jolt up, scrambling off of the cold metal table.

Pain is the only thing you feel. Pain pumping through your veins and making you shiver from movement. You back yourself against a wall, your hand instinctively curling around your stomach as nausea arises.

Before you are the purple haired Doctor Shinsou and the recognisable dark dressed man with a large scarf hiding his neck. He has a hand on his scarf and knees bent whilst Shinsou has his hands up in a surrendering manner.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.” He says.

You glare at him in disbelief. “Oh really now?” You grimace as you speak, sharp pain erupts from the side of your neck, just below your jaw. When you touch it, you can feel raised, jarred skin.

“You were shocked by 4 electrical batons. That one on your neck is the most severe one because of the skin contact.” Shinsou informs as he watches your hand shake above the wound.

“So much for not harming me.” You scoff.

“Those guys were from a different department.” The unknown man speaks up. “They run on different protocols.”

You spend a few seconds staring at him, watching as he lowers his hands by his side. Recognition prods your mind. “You were the one to capture me.”

The guy breathes in. “For now call me Eraserhead. We’d like for you to join us in the conference room down the hall. We’ll discuss everything there.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more than the three of us here?”

Shinsou, having put his hands down to his sides, answers you. “There’s only one more person and he’s waiting at the conference room. No more harm will come to you. Promise.”

You scrutinise his expression. The genuineness of his statement. Despite the short time you’ve talked with him, he seems genuine and reliable. So, on the little info you have, and with the foreign situation you are in, you decide your best bet for now is to trust him.

Shinsou walks out first, gesturing to you with a soft smile. Slowly, you stand up straight and start walking. You suppress the grimace as your leg shudders beneath you, most likely another wound area. With a deep breath, you push through the pain and limp out of the room. Eraserhead follows you closely.

The hallway is quiet, save for a few people here and there whispering to each other. Their eyes drift to you as you walk past them. You can feel their anger towards you and their disgust, you’re thankful the walk through the hallway is a short one.

Shinsou pushes open a door and steps aside to let you in. As soon as you set foot in the room, you analyse the room. It’s completely bare, save for the large oval table and the dozen-plus chairs surrounding it. Seated on one end of the table is a police officer. He has a brown coat thrown over his uniform. A matching brown hat sits on the table in front of him. His black hair is practically melded with his scalp, barely any strands sticking out. Your first impression of him isn’t the greatest and you decide to remain overly cautious.

“Hello.” He greets you as you walk in, almost like he was expecting you at that very second. It unnerves you. He gestures to the chair beside him. “Take a seat.”

You carefully step towards him. “I’d rather stand.” The scratchiness of your voice is still present, but you opt to ignore it.

He nods in understanding. “You can call me Tsukauchi.” You nod once, eyes glaring into his. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“I’m sure you have answers.” You fire back at him with a monotonous voice.

“I do. First I’d like to clear up the situation you're in at the moment. You are in a hospital north-”

“I already know that.” You nod towards Shinsou. “He explained that to me. I’m in northeast Tokyo. I wanna know why I’m here. And how I got here.”

Tsukauchi nods. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on you for a few weeks now. You’re known as the vigilante Shadow, aren't you? You’ve been in and out of activity for years.” Every word that he speaks increases your concern, but you fight to keep your expression neutral. “You’ve taken down thugs and criminals, but you’ve also stolen from civilians off the street.”

“Ok, imma stop you right there. I didn’t just steal from civilians, I also stole from those criminals.”

“You still stole from them.”

“Because I had to.” Your voice grows louder.

“Why?”

“Because-!” You stop yourself. You almost told him about the mall. Taking a deep breath, you start again. “I had to survive.”

It aggravates you the way he nods, as if he understands. “Like I said, we’ve been watching you. We apprehended you because we decided it would be best to approach you.”

“And you didn't try talking first?”

“We tried that. But as you can tell, that didn’t go well.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you close it, realising he’s right. But another question surges through you. “Ok, then why were an army of police on standby in the area if you just wanted to talk?”

“We predicted your behaviour.” Throughout the entire chat, he’s remained calm and it irritates you to no end.

You scoff and shake your head. “Is there a point to this talk?”

Tsukauchi bends down to pull out a folder. “We believe you have potential.”

Worry sets in. “Potential for what?”

He slides the folder over to you. “Potential to become a hero.”

The room is silent. You stare at him in disbelief, despite your best efforts to keep a neutral face. The silence only lasts a couple of seconds however, as you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry? Potential to become a hero?! What the actual fuck?! Haha! Weren’t you berating me as a vigilante fucking two minutes ago?” You double both in pain and laughter wheezing and gasping between breaths.

“Yes. Amongst everyone else, I see potential in you.” Tsukauchi waits a few seconds for you to catch your breath. “You’ve shown initiative in criminal activity. You are quick to rush in and protect civilians.”

“That’s because no one else is willing to, and there’s no police around to help them so I choose to step in.”

“Exactly.”

For a few seconds, you’re in deep thought about his words. He’s right. You have shown initiative, but does that really categorise you as a hero? If that's the case, then can’t everyone be a hero?

You look down at the folder on the table. Tentatively, you take a seat next to Tsukauchi, and open the folder.

Concealed inside is a small stack of papers. A small paragraph is printed on each page, addressing you and claiming that you agree to the terms and conditions that follow. On the bottom is a line with your name underneath. As you skin through each page, you come across to a highly detailed table chart.

“By signing these forms, you agree to a temporary deal in which you will live with Eraserhead and follow his rules.” You snap your attention to Tsukauchi, eyes bulging from distress. With a glance towards Eraserhead, who confirms with a nod, you sink further into the seat.

Tsukauchi continues. “You must agree to no vigilante activity whilst in his care. You’ll be monitored every minute of every day as long as you're in his care.”

“That chart in your hands,” Eraserhead speaks up, gesturing to the detailed chart in your hands. You take another look at it, noticing the times lined against each row and the days lined above each column. “It’s a timetable which I’ve set out for you to follow. You do exactly what it says to, and you won’t get charged for any of your vigilante crimes.”

“I’m getting charged?!” You stand up with shock and rage. Tsukauchi and Eraserhead jump to a stand as well. “So you’re saying that I either take up this so-called ‘opportunity’, or I get sent to prison for however long you deem fit? Sounds like a fucking threat if you ask me!”

“Hey, it’s alright. I pro-”

“It’s not alright!” You turn to Shinsou, fighting to keep back the tears building up behind your eyes. “None of this is okay! I’m being stripped of my freedom, all for what? To keep an eye on my behaviour?!” You turn to Tsukauchi, staring him down with a firm expression. “I have responsibilities to uphold.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure they can be put on hold for a while.” He says.

“They can’t!”

Minutes pass by, the tension in the air running thick. You run your hand through your hair, sighing with frustration and surrender before fixing your posture. “What I’m about to say, does not leave this room.”

“If you agree to the contract-”

You snap your gaze to Eraserhead. “If I agree to this contract I will keep up my end. But you have to keep up yours.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before nodding, allowing you to continue.

Your heart thunders in your chest with nerves and irritation. Tears threaten to fall but you remain stubborn as ever. With a deep breath, you let it out. “There is an abandoned mall on the outskirts of Tokyo. It’s where I and a ton of other homeless people stay. We're like a family. We protect each other and help where necessary. There are some people like me who’ve rescued kids from all sorts of situations, and those kids form a bond with us. A bond that acts like a lifeline. It’s their emotional lifeline.” Without noticing, a tear falls from your eye. After furiously rubbing at your eyes, you continue. “It’s impossible for me to leave them. Not while their emotional stability is still fragile. I’m sure you know enough of psychology to understand that.”

The room is silent as the three males ponder your revelation. They look between each other, wondering what to say, what to do with the new information. Sure, there were rumors of more people like you, but to hear the information come from you was different; it was no longer a rumor.

“This timetable isn’t possible for me to follow. I need some time with the mall. I need to let the kids know that I’m still there for them.”

Tsukauchi looks to Eraserhead. “It’s your call.”

Eraserhead sighs deeply as all eyes turn on him expectantly. “I’ll allow a one hour visit two days a week.”

“Three days.” You interject.

Dark eyes glare at you, but you remain stubborn and strong against his eyes. The sigh he lets go of borders on a growl. “One hour visits, three days a week. With supervision.” He enunciated the last sentence, indicating there would be no objections.

Despite your desire to argue, you know it’ll be useless. So, putting on a tough persona, you pick up the contract folder and practically shove it under his nose. “I want that in writing.”

The man remains still, half-lidded eyes staring at you for what seems like hours. It feels as if he’s stabbing you with just his gaze alone. Finally, he snatches the folder out of your hands and slaps it down on the table. He then takes a nearby pen and begins to furiously write on one of the papers. Once scribbling his signature, he steps back, allowing you to inspect his writing.

You do so, ensuring each word says as it's supposed to. Eraserhead holds out the pen to you. After some hesitance, you take the pen and lean down. The pen hovers over the paper. Your heart beats hard, you can feel it in your throat as if it's ready to spew out at any moment. You take a few steady breaths, your hand shaking the pen slightly. One more deep breath, and you put the pen to the paper.

Each letter written feels wrong, incriminating and abandoning. It feels exactly how you expected it; like your freedom was slipping away with each pen stroke.

As soon as you write the last letter, you stand up, the pen falling from your limp fingers.

Tsukauchi takes the folder and pockets it into his briefcase below the table. “I believe Dr. Shinsou wanted to do a last check-up. He’ll also be the one that will be attaching the ankle monitor. We’ll be using that to monitor you.”

You simply nod, the will to argue no longer there. You follow Shinsou out the room, head tilted down in both shame and surrender.

Your mind is numb, barely registering anything said to you. As Shinsou gestures for you to sit atop the examination table, you take notice of the nurse. The same nurse as before, this time with a bandage across her nose.

She appears reluctant to be near you, you can see her hands shake as they reach out to apply the blood pressure strap.

“I’m sorry.” Your apology is quiet but startles the woman. However, a smile eases on her face.

“It’s ok.” She replies, voice slightly hitched due to the bandage. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

The conversation is left at that. Shinsou and the nurse, who said her name was Sakura, do the basics, heart, lungs, eyes, ears. After completing them, Shinsou appears with a steel bracelet with a small box attached to it.

He doesn't get the chance to speak as you lift up your ankle. He peers into your eyes, taking note of the dread-filled gaze that appears to stare at nothing. With a sigh, he carefully clips the bracelet into place.

“Is it too tight?” His only response is a light shrug. He can’t help but feel bad for you. He proceeds to press and hold a button. The device turns on at the action, a small light on the box flicks on as two small beeps sound. As soon as that's done, Shinsou guides you out of the room.

When you step out, you are approached by a long blonde haired male, a gloved hand sticking out towards you.

“Hello listener!” His voice is loud and overly excited, but you barely pay any mind to him. He observes your mute behaviour and turns to his husband. Eraserhead simply shakes his head.

“This is my husband Yamada. You can call me Aizawa.” He says as he walks away.

You follow him without delay, mindlessly pocketing the info.

The drive is silent and tense. You stare out the window the entire trip, watching as the environment passes by. There’s no thoughts running through your mind, nothing to think about but the dread and disappointment of letting the mall down.

You barely register you’ve stopped, so induced in your negativity that you don’t notice that Aizawa is before you, waiting for you to step out.

The house is two stories tall, a small wood fence outlining the property. It’s a fairly modern-looking house, a front porch stretching a metre out the front yard. It’s decently sized, looking to fit a modern family of five.

Entering the house, you register a lounge room and kitchen across from each other from the front house, then straight ahead are stairs leading up to the second floor. Beside that is a hallway which you are told leads to a bathroom and laundry.

Your gaze wanders to the kitchen, where you find a black cat sitting on the bench, staring at you with yellow eyes.

“Oh, that’s Jelly. We have another cat named Muffin, she’s nicer than Jelly, he likes to scratch.” The Yamada explains. His smile drops however as your gaze falls to the floor. “How about I show you to your room?” He gestures upstairs.

You shrug, allowing him to lead you upstairs. He turns down the hall to a room at the end. “Here it is!” He opens the door, his green eyes shining with delight.

You peer into the room, gazing at the layout. A double bed is pressed up against a wall, a small table on each side. A desk lays opposite the bed, small and bare. Sliding doors in the wall indicate a wardrobe. It’s bare of anything and feels completely unnatural to you.

“It used to be a spare room, but now that you’re here it’s all yours! Don’t worry we have another.”

You ignore him and walk into the room, taking a seat on the bed.

“Hey,” His voice is significantly dialled down in both tone and volume as he approaches you. “I know this may seem scary, but we’re here to help you. Aizawa may seem like a blunt and harsh guy, but he’ll come around. Eventually.” He then kneels down before you, a soft smile on his face, his glasses on the tip of his nose. “Technically my name is Aizawa-Yamada but that’s for legal purposes. We’re teachers and figured it’d be easier for the students to separate us. That and Aizawa doesn’t like our relationship to be public information. If you’d like, you can call me by my first name, Hisashi.”

You nod, numbly tucking away the information. You jolt slightly as Hisashi places a hand on your knee.

“Why don’t you get some rest? The drugs from the hospital are probably still in effect.”

With a gentle squeeze, he stands up and exits the room, closing the door behind him. In the end, he was right. You take the time to realise how foggy your mind is and how exhausted your limbs feel.

Having no choice in the matter, you lay down on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, the silence of the room overcoming your senses. It’s then that everything seems to properly set in your mind. Tears cascade down the side of your face, and you do what you can to silence your sobs.

You told them everything you didn’t want to. Although it gave you something, you still risked the safety of everyone. You may have just caused their demise. All for what? What was the purpose of all this? To become a hero?

Did you want to be a hero? Is it worth all this?

What would everyone think when you visited them? Aizawa would no doubt be supervising you. And if he wasn’t, the device on your ankle would surely broadcast your position.

What else was the device for? Could it hear you? Could it see what you were doing? Could it harm you?

Your mind whirls with unanswered questions, each question that rises allows another tear to fall from your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, haunting you with all of the day's events.

When you wake with a jolt, you wish for it all to be just that. A simple nightmare, something that Dabi could soothe away. But that wish shatters as you look around. The room was too spacious, the view was too pretty, the walls were too new, and the device around your ankle was still annoyingly present.

#rts #road to salvation #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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