#but my mood swings have always been pretty bad my siblings used to get so mad at me bc 1 insensitive or annoying comment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

banzaitaka · 3 years

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hello my lovely son.

how have you been?

anyway, enough small talk let's get straight to the point.

can you do a mikey from tokyo revengers and a non- binary reader

the reader should be able to beat Mikey if they wanted and mikey sees them as a problem because of that.

they should be childhood friends and mikeys brother back then liked her a lot and treated them as an little sibling. reader should also get along well with draken and they should have relationship were they both respect each other.

so the plot should be that it's finally mikeys birthday and reader was not invited so they burst into their location were they celebrate and makes a scene. let them throw some hands and kicks until one of them stops for some reason. reader doesn't leave and gives their gift to Mikey with an look of anger, still being in a bad mood that he didn't think about inviting them in the first place.

mikey opens it and sees keys in it in confusion everyone goes outside and sees a new motorcycle.

that was the motorcycle from his older brother that reader repaired so it looked as good as new to use.

---

Hoi hoi again, my lovely mother owo

I've been good gdifghdifg

I'm honestly kinda scared to write this- cause- aaaaaahhh- MikEy- OnEshOt- scared to make him ooc ghsdgf

And I didn't specifically mentioned anyone besides Draken, Takemichi and Mikey cause I still don't really know anything about Mitsuya, Baji and the others, but they are there

TW: a bit angsty? But it's a happy ending

Part 2 "Misunderstanding"

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Manjiro Sano x gn! reader

Art is mine!

Happy brithday, ya lil shit

"What do you mean, I'm not invited??"

"Hey, calm down and ask Mikey, I'm just answering your question."

(Y/N) stared blankly at the wall infront of them, hand tightly gripping their phone. They hear Draken sigh on the other side of the line, "I gotta go, the meeting 's 'bout to begin. See ya." And with that, Ken hung up, leaving (Y/N) pouting in their room, clearly about to punch the wall beside them.

How dare Mikey not invite the (Y/HC)-haired to his birthday party?? The two of them used to be so close. They were always together when they were younger. Manjiro's brother even saw (Y/N) as a little sibling! So what happened?

(Y/N)'s incredible strenght happened. After a certain fight, Mikey got scared of the thought that his childhood friend could easily overpower him if they wanted to. And thus, the whole gang.

It might have been a stupid fear to have, but Mikey couldn't help it. The thought of loosing someone by the hands of someone he holds so dearly was just too much.

But (Y/N) had no idea why the blonde suddenly acted so distant and tried to get close to him again. They even got him a very special gift for his birthday that year, put all their sweat and blood into finishing it up. But, they couldn't just come uninvited to a party, right?

Well, they pretty much didn't care about that.

(Y/N) stood up from their bed and stuffed their hands in their pockets, a deep frown on their face, "This isn't fair...", they mumbled under their breath, kicking their chair out of the way to go to the garage to check on the present, " 'Mikey said you're not invited' ", they mocked Ken's tone, "I don't need an invitation."

The (Y/HC)-haired kicked open the door that is connected to the garage and slammed it close behind them again.

Time to see if their hard work really paid off.

The sun was about to set when the birthday party was already in full swing, music blasting through the closed windows, the smell of pizza and other junk food and cakes filling the living room where all the teenagers were. The boys where laughing and eating, some were playing Sing Star while the others held their ears or talked to each other on the other side of the room.

Mikey sat cross-legged on the couch and happily munched on a piece of his birthday cake. Draken sat on his right, devouring his share of one of the pizzas. And Takemichi sat on Mikey's left, enjoying the vibe, even though he was a bit overwhelmed.

(Y/N) could feel the happy atmosphere from outside the house, making them feel a clench in their chest. But they didn't dare to show anything but anger. Not yet, at least. (Y/N) stuffed their hands in their pockets and fumbled with Mikey's present in one of them.

Why were they so nervous all of the sudden? They could feel their heart beating in their chest, their head and in their fingers.

But they ignored the feeling after taking a few deep breathes.

If Mikey doesn't want anything to do them anymore, fine.

But they at least wanted him to have it.

They stepped closer to the front door and ringed the bell, ready to push anyone aside that opened the door and doesn't let them in right away. But they promised themself to try not to hurt them while doing that, it would be one of Mikey's friends after all. (Y/N) didn't want to hurt any of Mikey's friends.

Poor Takemichi, he was the only one who heard the bell over the screaching singing of the others. Confused he walked up to the door and opened it, but he only got to open it a tiny bit. As soon as (Y/N) heard the door knob, something switched inside of them. They were pissed, felt betrayed.

With a kick against the door by the (Y/HC)-haired, Takemichi got sandwiched between said door and the wall next to him. The loud thud and the blonde's surprised yelp caught the attention of the others. Draken almost choked on his pizza slice by the sudden disturbance.

Mikey's shooked expression quickly turned into a frown, as he recognized them, while Draken swallowed his food and rubbed his temples, "I knew this was gonna happen...", he mumbled to himself. Ken send them a look, kindly asking them to go before shit went down, with his eyes.

(Y/N) however, casually walked inside, while Takemichi rubbed his face and closed the door again before he even realized how the atmosphere changed. He froze when he noticed the pissed of glances between the stranger and the gang members.

Takemichi gulped, shit was indeed about to go down.

Manjiro stood up from the couch and continued to stare at (Y/N) with an unamused expression, "What are you doing here?"

(Y/N) walked towards him, hands still stuffed in their pockets, "Nice question,", they replied, "I got a better one. Why do you act so coldly towards your childhood friend? What the fuck did I do??"

Mikey clicked with his tongue, ignoring the question. He had a feeling they would come sooner or later, but now that they're there, his nervousness rose higher and higher, "Get out of her-"

"But why!?", (Y/N) cut him off, "What the fuck did I do!? Why do you suddenly hate me so much!?"

The clench in their chest reappeared again, but they ignored it. If they would let their feelings interrupt them now, they will never get the answers to their questions.

Takemichi looked back and forth between (Y/N) and Mikey, //Why is noone saying anything??//, he asked himself, slightly panicking internally. Draken stood up and walked around the couch to stand next to Takemichi. "Don't get involved.", was all he said to the shorter male, making him nod in return.

Suddenly Mikey raised his foot, trying to land a kick to (Y/N)'s neck, but (Y/N) caught it with one hand. "I will leave once you tell me why I'm suddenly such a bad person in your eyes!", they yelled, but Mikey kept silent. He ripped his leg from their grasp and tried to punch them in their stomach.

The (Y/EC)-eyed managed to catch that attack too, holding onto his wrist and quickly grabbing the other, "Why won't you tell me!?"

"Just shut up and leave!", the blonde grabbed onto the other's wrists as well for support and jumped, boring his feet in their stomach with full force, making them gasp.

They let go of his wrist, turning to look to the side. They clenched their fists and bit their bottom lip in hopes of holding their tears in, but it was already too late.

(Y/N) tried to stiffle their sob as best as they could as the tears rolled down their cheeks to their chin, before raining down onto their top.

Mikey's eyes widened in surprise, whiping his death glare off his face completely, "What...?", he asked in a whisper, only now realising the emotions, the pain of the other.

(Y/N)'s heart was beeing stomped on, kicked and bitten. At least, that's how it felt like. They wiped their tears out of their face with their arm, but new ones came right after. They didn't even care anymore.

With one swift move, they grabbed their present for Mikey out of their pocket and threw it at him, hitting his chest. Mikey caught it last second, staring at it with widened eyes. "Happy birthday, ya lil shit.", they said through gritten teeth, their voice scratchy ans slightly croaky.

They tunred around and left, leaving the others stare at them until they left their eye sight, while Mikey slowly opened the box in his hands.

Takemichi slowly stepped closer to the shorter male, but didn't dare to say a word. Draken put a hand on Takemichi's shoulder to hold him back again. The last thing Mikey needed was someone asking if he was okay or anything of that sort.

Mikey's hands were shaky as he took out his gift from inside the box. It was a key, a motorcycle key.

"No way!", he exclaimed loudly as he recognized the shape and design from said key. The blonde immediately ran outside, looking around for the motorcycle. He almost fell on his knees as he found it and ran towards it. This couldn't be real!

The others quickly followed their leader outside, finding him slowly approaching a motorcycle with wobbly steps. Mikey let his fingers brush against the cold metal, hands and breath shaky, "No way...", he repeated in a whisper.

Flashbacks to his childhood flooded his mind. His brother...this motorcycle...it was his brother's. Mikey always wanted to ride on it on his own. He promised (Y/N) to give them a ride on it one day.

The memory hit him like a lightning bolt, right to the chest. He felt so quilty...He never wanted to hurt (Y/N) the way he did. He was so stupid- so stupid- so endlessly stupid!

Everyone stared at the motorbike, most of them in shook and confusion. Draken was pretty much the only one who understood what was going on, but he didn't answer any question that was asked out loud.

"(Y/N)...you crazy fucker.", he mumbled. Takemichi looked up at him, "What do yo-"

"Draken!", Mikey yelled as he turned around, his faces covered in thick tears, "Please! P-please get (Y/N)! I don't want them to leave!"

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x gn reader #mikey #mikey x reader #mikey x gn reader #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x gn reader #x reader #x gn reader

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chibiwritesstuff · 3 years

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heyya yaaaa~! I just finished reading all of your works and lemme tell you, it’s all so nicely written! keep on going and don’t forget to take breaks when you need it, hm? alright, me stating facts about you and your writing talent aside— may I request lilia, floyd, ruggie and silver? Angst with a happy ending please? You can make it angst due to a misunderstanding or sumn. but oh well of course! that’s only if you don’t mind. Take your time dear, it’s not good to force yourself alright? bye~!

I see you saw the note that even I can’t find anymore that Lilia always gets a free pass on my 3 character limit XD. Thank you so much! I have long ways to be a decent writer but I’m glad you found my works nice. The one with Lilia is actually based on my own experience at work and I was told that’s an anxiety attack so uh... Also, I do kinda have to force myself or I’ll just keep focusing on work and not have time for myself which is writing.

(I swear all characters are treated equally and totally no favoritism... oh who am I kidding? Hail Lilia)

Warning(s): Mentions of an anxiety attack on Lilia’s part.

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

At first, he thought you just need something for Jade which he doesn’t mind. Everybody needs help once in a while.

But lately you two have pretty much stopped seeing each other.

Anytime he asks the trouble trio, they always respond that you’re with Jade.

Excuse me, if you wanted to break up with him just tell it straight to his face?!

He’s honestly hurt though. He thought you two are hitting it off really well.

Once he confronts you about it, you’re in the kitchen of Monstro Lounge.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He looked so confused and enamored of your look with an apron on.

“Ruggie, I love you and everything but I’m in the middle of a shift right now.” You immediately replied as you see Azul tapping his wristwatch.

“You work here?!” He jerked back in surprise. “I thought you are having a tryst with Jade!”

Cue to you and Azul spit taking (away from the food, of course, you ain't unsanitary) while Floyd burst out laughing and Jade chuckling.

Yeah, turns out you’re the current cook in the lounge to save up some money to buy him a gift for your anniversary.

Psh, he knows that. He’s just testing you… yeah.

Feel free to tease him about it since he used to do it to you anyway.

Okay, surely you just need Vil for a question or two, right?

You keep making excuses to get out of his hair lately and he doesn’t like it at all.

Yet whenever Rook calls for you because Vil asked for it, you’re suddenly available.

His mood swings are worse than a pregnant woman’s so you better explain quickly.

“Floyd! I finally found you.” You greeted him three weeks after you two last have an actual conversation.

“Can’t talk right now, I’m busy. Why don’t you go back to Vil?” He snapped at you as he began walking away.

You merely blinked at his reaction and shrugged. “Okay, you gave me the go signal so don’t you go blaming me for it.”

“That wasn’t permission! Get back here and pay attention to me!” He pouted and shook you violently. “Why do you always pay attention to Vil? I thought I’m your boyfriend?!”

“Well, my sense of fashion is wack so I thought I’d ask an expert.” You struggled to respond as you tried to hand over a box which made him stop shaking you. “Vil hooked me up to get these for you after being ordered around to do things… Happy anniversary… oh god I feel sick…”

“Eh?” He opened the box to reveal the Tenebres brand of shoes that he’s been wanting. “Shrimpy, thank you!!!”

Yeah, have fun trying to hold that nausea in because this eel ain't ready to let go just yet.

As much as Lilia is a great person to hang out with, he can be quite neglectful on certain things because of having too much fun.

You don’t show it that much but you do get anxiety attacks when you get surprised. While not severe it’s still quite a scary moment.

It doesn’t help that you’re carrying something very valuable and very fragile to Vil when he decided to pop out of nowhere upside down.

“What you got there, (y/n)?” He casually asked.

“Ah!”

A loud crash echoed in the hallway and your face pales up as Vil’s delivery is now on the floor, shattered. Just the sight of it is enough to send your thought spiraling as you can vividly picture Vil yelling at you for being careless and useless you can be. You are aware that your brain is exaggerating things but as your anxiety attack gets more prominent, the harder it is for you to breathe and rationalize which only made you panic. Your ears started ringing that you failed to hear Lilia calling out your name multiple times. You must have blacked out for when you regained your sense of focus and hearing, you can see a concerned Lilia hovering above you.

“Oh seven, my apologies little one.” He replaced the wet cloth on your forehead before continuing. “I should have known or at least notice you have anxiety attacks.”

When you’re feeling better, Lilia personally talked to Vil about the situation and offered to replace the said item.

Much to your surprise, Vil got mad at Lilia for causing your anxiety attack and even used his unique magic on the fae’s apron and favorite ladle.

Yep, the old man is currently banned from cooking. (Diasomnia sent Pomefiore their thanks that day.)

Nonetheless, Lilia is now careful about his random appearances and is now more attentive.

The downside is that he permanently has his dad mode on.

This man trusts you a lot.

He knows you won't force him to do things he doesn’t like and respected the fact that his main priority is to service Malleus. The same goes that you trust him that you love him and he won't force you to do things you don’t like.

So, when he saw you spend way more time with Deuce than him especially during his sword practice, he wasn’t pleased.

He’s rather blunt about it too that he just stops you in the hallway around other students.

“Why are you hanging out with Deuce too much?”

“He’s my friend, Silver. Of course, I’ll hang out with him when you’re busy.” You cocked your head sideways out of confusion.

He frowned, still not like the ache he feels in his chest. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it every time.”

“Hey, I don’t stop you from being with Mr. Draconia every time but I get restrictions? What happened to being fair to each other?”

“It's my duty to be around Lord Malleus, you on the other hand waste your time on someone else’s company.” He defended and straightened his posture unconsciously to assert authority. “If you have free time then watch me practice or something.”

“I did that before and I ended up falling asleep on the hard ground so you told me to do something else instead, remember?” You can't help but be hurt by the contradictions he spouting out right now especially since you two have garnered the attention of almost all the students nearby. “Can you take some time to cool down first before we talk about this again? I don’t want any misunderstandings to happen between us.”

“So you can go back to Deuce’s side already?” Anger slowly seeping into his visage but immediately disappeared with your hurt expression.

“Do you trust me so little…” You whispered not intending for him to hear. “You know what, fine. I’ll go to Deuce until you finally get your head straight.”

Let me tell you now, he feels everything just came crashing down. He never intended for it to cause a big rift between the two of you but at the looks of it, you two needed space.

The entire day this man will try to talk to you again but by some unknown force in the universe, there's always something preventing him to do so.

He’s so lost he can't even take a nap even in the comfort of the forest animals.

Deuce smacked him to his sense quite literally. Like, our delinquent boy just punched the living daylights out of this guy.

Deuce has to explain that you two are pretty much siblings when it comes to closeness and you’re always talking about him all the time.

Be prepared to be serenaded tonight, Silver ain't letting you leave him on a bad note.

Well, more like that’s what Lilia taught him to do since he was young.

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Here for the sentence starters!! "I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater" and "I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do." Feel free to do both or either or whatever you prefer with either of the Marcuses! I'm in such a fluffy mood rn and these will make my day :)) (PS I adore you and I hope you have a good day xx)

Making Moves (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Summary: Your neighborhood superhero, Marcus Moreno, is being nagged by his daughter to find love. Lucky for him, just the right woman moves in down the street.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, brief talks of death (just to refer to Marcus’s wife who passed away), brief mentions of sexual stuff. it’s tame.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN. I love some good Marcus Moreno. He’s such a cutie and these prompts made it so fun! You can still send me prompts from this list with a character, just mind the taken ones! p.s. my emotional support Brit @maxlordsgf see how I used patio/backyard??

The Moreno household was cozy. You wondered if it was Marcus who’d decorated the beautiful home, or if his late wife. You supposed it didn’t matter. You would’ve liked the former Mrs. Moreno, if Marcus could love her like he did.

He lived a few houses down from you. You’d moved in a couple of months ago, into the nice Craftsman style home you currently rented. The best thing about the house was the beautiful front porch, which exposed the lovely suburban neighborhood. The porch had come with a swing, and you’d decided that it’d have to be your new morning coffee spot. After all, this is California, where the sun was plentiful and the air was just cold enough to be refreshing in the mornings.

The time that you drank your coffee on the porch also happened to be the time that your neighborhood Heroic, Marcus, went for his morning runs. He’d been excited to see that the house was sold, and Missy was too. They planned on bringing over some sweets once you were settled. Several weeks after the sold sign went up, he saw you for the first time.

You looked like an angel, he thought. You wore a fuzzy robe with patterned capri pajama pants peeking from beneath it. Your glasses rested on the bridge of your nose, slightly fogged from the steam of your coffee. You sat on your porch swing, knees pulled to your chest, reading from your tablet. He was immediately caught off-guard. Your new home was at the beginning of his running path, but his breath was already gone from his lungs from your beauty.

Pushing his own glasses up his nose, he gave you a little wave as you looked up. You’d smiled at him, a grin with your teeth visible. The man was handsome, you’d noticed. Dark hair, a little scruff, eyes that scrunched when he smiled at you. He was fit, too, his muscles evident beneath his tight t-shirt and running shorts. He kept running, unsure what he could say to you.

Marcus returned home some thirty minutes later to find Missy awake. “Hey, the new neighbor moved in,” he told her as he walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Ooh, tell me all about them.”

“Well, we didn’t talk. I still don’t know if it’s a family or anything,” he admitted. “But there was a woman sitting on the porch.”

Missy’s eyes lit up. “How old?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, muñeca,” he told her and kissed her head as he walked past her to sit at the table.

“Old enough to date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and stuffing her mouth full of cereal. “Did she seem single?”

“Stay out of it,” he teased her and poked her forehead, right between the eyes.

She flinched back a bit but laughed. “Dad, come on.”

He shook his head. “We can bring over a housewarming gift tonight, huh? Then we can see.” -

Well, it turned out that night was too busy to do so for the Morenos.

You saw him the next morning as he ran past again. You wore different pajamas but sat in the same position. You’d waved back.

That’s how the next couple mornings went for the two of you. Every day, Marcus could swear you looked prettier. With you looking like that in your pajamas, he couldn’t imagine how beautiful you’d be at any other time.

Finally, Friday night, he and Missy put on some music and got to baking.

“What does she look like?” Missy asked curiously as she cracked an egg into the bowl- she’d learned the hard way that her father was not to be trusted with egg duty.

Marcus described you to his daughter, his eyes far off and a small smile on his face. “She’s very pretty.”

“Well, duh. You’re simping over her, of course she is.”

“What’s a simp?” He’d asked, brow furrowing.

The knock came an hour or two later. You’d gotten home from work an hour or so earlier, so you were in relaxed clothing, the remnants of your makeup on your face.

Behind the door stood the handsome runner you saw every morning, and a miniature, carbon-copied version of him with longer hair and more feminine features. “Hi! We’re the Morenos. We live in the blue house down the street. I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” she introduced herself cheerfully. She held a tray of brownies. He held a bouquet.

“We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the man- Marcus- says with a warm smile on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned and took the tray Missy held out. “Well, come in, please,” you invite them. “Do you drink, Marcus? I was just having some wine. Oh, and Missy, I have some soda if you’d like that.”

The three of you sat in your half-constructed living room for a while and chatted. You learned about the former Mrs. Moreno and how she’d passed a few years ago. You shared that you were living alone and single, due to a bad breakup that led you to move here. The two were good company, you learned quickly, bantering back and forth more like siblings than a father and daughter.

As they stood up to leave, you apologized for the mess. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to hook up my TV lately, and I haven’t done anything else yet. I want to get the TV up first, but I’m practically useless with electronic stuff,” you admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, Dad is great with electronics,” Missy told you with a grin.

“Not great. Competent would be a better word,” he chuckled. “I could help you set it up, if you’d like that.”

“I would, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Here, we can exchange numbers, you can text me when you’d like me to come over,” he offered and pulled out his phone.

“Sure,” you said and told him your number, which he enters into his phone and sends you a text. “Perfect,” you nodded and saved his phone number. “I’ll see you two soon, hopefully.”

They said goodbye and you heard Missy giggling as the door shut behind him. It’s muffled, but you thought you can hear Missy anyway: “That was smooth, Dad!”

That was months ago now. You’d developed a relationship with the both of them, visiting each others’ houses often for dinner or just to chat.

When summer rolled around, Missy invited you over for days at their pool. You two had enjoyed yourselves, Marcus playing the role of your butler for the day, serving you mocktails and teasing his daughter. It became a common occurrence during the summer. You even had a reverse day on Marcus’s birthday (July 12th) where Missy served the two of you. It was almost like a date. That was the day you both realized you’d fallen hard for the other.

As much as you spent time with Marcus, the girl positively adored you, and always sent you texts from her father’s phone.

We’re having pizza tonight! Wanna come over?

Dad says he sucks at math. Can you help me with my homework?

My friends canceled on me. Are you free to eat Ben and Jerry’s and watch Mamma Mia with me?

You’d become like a mother figure to her, helping her when she got her first period, taking her shopping for middle-school dances, giving her boy advice.

Marcus liked you just as much, if not more. You liked him too. He was a funny man, kindhearted and warm. He’d listen to you talk when you’d had a shitty day, bring over a bottle of wine when he needed some comfort, cook dinner for the two of you when Missy was at Anita’s.

One night, you’re eating dinner with them on their patio. It’s nice, overlooking their backyard and their pool. Missy is going to a friend’s later, to sleep over, but Marcus had cooked food for the three of you on the grill, something you’d learned he was fantastic at, and you’re inside getting more food. The door is slightly cracked, and you can hear the two of them talking.

“Dad. You have to make your move, and you gotta do it tonight! Otherwise, she’ll go for Kent a couple doors down. You don’t want that, do you?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“It’s not that easy, muñeca. I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”

Your heart catches in your chest, fluttering. Marcus likes you. Not only that, he’s in love with you. The past few months race through your head, and you hyper-analyze every little interaction the two of you have had. It’s clear now, in hindsight. You swallow hard, putting back down the skewer of vegetables.

He’s been the only thing on your mind the past few weeks, you have to admit. Your visits to each others’ homes had increased, with you spending more and more nights a week at the Morenos’. His laugh makes your stomach flutter as Missy says something else to him outside. You bite your lip. Tonight’s the night. If he doesn’t make his move like Missy insisted, you’ll do it first.

The conversation is light for the rest of dinner, and you’re a bit detached. Marcus can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. You simply stare out into their pool, listening to Missy ramble on about the plans that she and her friends have for tonight.

A while later, her friends’ parents pick her up. You stand in the driveway and wave a thank-you to the girl’s parents as they drive off with Missy and her friend in tow. “Love you guys,” she shouts out of the window. You grin and shout it back, in sync with Marcus.

The two of you return to the backyard. You walk a little farther apart from Marcus than normal. “Hey,” he says and stands right next to you, his shoulder nudging yours. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off all night,” he mumbles softly.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you chuckle, looking down at your feet.

Marcus is oblivious to the fact that you heard the two of them earlier. You and Marcus have always had a playful relationship, and the idea strikes him to help cheer you up. “Hey, vecina.”

“What- ah!” You squeal as Marcus lifts you in his strong arms. He walks the two of you to the side of the pool as you wriggle in his grip, laughing. “Goddamnit, Marcus! Let go of me!” You screech as he holds you over the pool, though you’re giggling the whole time.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he laughs, your feet kicking as they dangle over the chlorinated water.

“No, you asshole!” You laugh, wriggling. “Put me down, Moreno, or God help your poor soul when I-”

He sets you down on the edge, backing up a bit. “There, fine. Just trying to help,” he teases. He did, he thinks to himself. You’re smiling again.

You’re painfully close to him. Your hands find his hips and he looks down at your hands in confusion as you pat the pockets of his shorts. No phone. Perfect. There’s a devilish grin as you wrap him in a bear hug and fall backwards into the pool, taking him with you.

You let go once you’re underwater, shooting up to the surface from under him and laughing. He comes up moments later, wiping his eyes and pushing his hair back. Your laugh is maniacal and loud, completely content and proud of yourself. “There, I cheered you up at least,” he shakes his head and smiles. He walks to the shallower end of the pool, and you follow.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” you shoot back.

“Well, something was off. Will you tell me now?” He asks, your eyes wandering to his- oh, he’s ripped, goddamn- abs beneath his wet t-shirt. His eyes remained trained on yours, ever the gentleman.

Swallowing hard, you nod and walk closer to him with a smile. “I heard you and Missy when I was inside getting more food,” you tell him, biting on your lip to hold back an excited giggle.

His brows furrow in confusion then lift in surprise as it hits him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, wading a little closer and then even closer. You can hear his heavy breathing and look into those big brown eyes with a grin.

“Well, I-” he starts stammering, unsure of what to say, until you place your hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you mumble soothingly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I know you said it’s not that easy. Why don’t you let me take the reins then, hm?” You ask teasingly, bringing your face close to his.

He grins, taking the opportunity as he sees it. His lips crash to yours happily, his hands finding your waist over your sopping wet clothing. You smile softly against his lips. They’re so soft and warm, the very lips you’ve been staring at for a long time, imagining this. He’s gentle but loving and you deepen it. He follows immediately, parting his lips against yours and he sighs into your mouth.

The two of you stand there, in his pool, making out, for quite a while. Finally, when he breaks away, looking at you through his water-drop-stained glasses, you grin. “This is your fault, you know. I’m gonna have to go home and change into dry clothing.”

“Or you could borrow some of mine,” he offers with a shy smile, and you grin.

“That works too.”

He kisses you one more time. “Will you stay the night? We don’t even have to… to do anything. I don’t even really want to yet. I just want to keep holding on to you.”

You nod and kiss him softly, for just a moment. “Of course I will.” -

You awaken in the morning to the smell of cooking. You live alone, and it makes your brow furrow in confusion, eyes still shut, until they open and you find yourself in Marcus’ home. His bed, specifically.

You smell like chlorine and your hair is damp still, but you’re wearing a big black sweater that smells like detergent and cologne and sleep. It’s Marcus’s, you realize with a smile.

Last night was truly perfect. No, you didn’t sleep with him yet, but it was still perfectly intimate, the way you held each other and whispered sweet words and pressed soft kisses all over each others’ faces and torsos. You’d made out for a fair amount of time too, just like teenagers again, but it was meaningful.

You pad down the stairs, wearing just your underwear and one of Marcus’s big sweaters. He’s cooking breakfast in the kitchen, and your heart melts as you see him. “Good morning, superhero,” you coo as you wrap your arms around him from behind and press a kiss into his neck.

His body warms and melts into your touch. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. Your bed is insanely comfortable,” you chuckle and snuggle in against him, resting your head against his back.

“I’m glad. Go sit down, breakfast will be ready in a bit.”

You nod and do exactly that, sitting across the kitchen island from him. He puts some pancakes on a plate, drizzles them with syrup, and slides it to you. “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” you grin and waste no time in cutting into them with a fork and taking a bite.

You sigh happily and Marcus’s heart can barely take the sight of it. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“I can’t get over how cute you are,” you tease and pop another bite in your mouth. “The good news is that you can get over it, because I’m coming over here for breakfast in your clothes every day now.”

“Or you could live here.”

The proposal is so quiet, so sudden and nonchalant that it takes you aback for a minute. “What?”

He shrugs. “I know we’ve only been together for, what, 10 hours now, but Missy and I both adore you. You’re over here all the time anyway. Why don’t you? Save us both some money, too.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “I might have to think about it.”

He nods. “I get that, I-“

“Done thinking. I’ll do it,” you grin happily.

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod, giggling excitedly.

Marcus leans across the kitchen counter and kisses you softly. “Be prepared for a lot of Moreno loving. Missy’s a cuddler.”

“I think I can take it,” you smile and press another kiss to his lips, with all of the love in your heart.

translations:

vecina- neighbor (female)

muñeca- in this context, doll

hey taglist, come get y’all’s juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalpanic

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

let me down slow (prologue)

word count; 3432

summary; you’re in love with stiles stilinski who will never love you back, and mitch stilinski is freshly heartbrokenand home to try and redeicover himself. after being ditched by stiles, mitch offers you some company.

notes; let me just make it clear that there is no wolves in this, also, she’s 18 and Mitch is 20. OH, and a big thanks to @stylesharrys for proof reading this for me. I love her.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, underage drinking, that’s pretty much it.

Your toes caught on the slightly uneven paving stone on the front garden of the Stilinski household, noting the absence of the cruiser on the driveway, the space beside it clear of the usual powder blue jeep that was never clean, but a black jeep that was clean sat in its place, a precocious vehicle that and you roll your eyes in a heatless judgement.

In some ways, Mitch Stilinski was the opposite of his younger brother.

He excelled at lacrosse, earning himself a scholarship to a college on the other side of the country, and handing down his famous ‘24’ number to his brother, who had finally tried out for the team at the beginning of junior year after his brother left. He was clean, and he worked out and ate healthy foods, and he had a car from this century that he actually respected. There was something under one of the seats of Stiles’ jeep that was unrecognisable at this point, and you didn’t particularly want to question it.

Despite this, there was a lot they both had in common. Their sarcasm, and loyalty, and passion for the things they loved. Not to mention, the spooky similarity between them both.

Though, Mitch possessed the ability for growing facial hair, which had started coming in his sophomore year, and now in his senior year, Stiles still had a baby face that was smooth and soft, and entirely hairless. It was adorable, really.

So, no, the absence of the blue jeep didn’t immediately clue you in to something being off, because you assumed he may have pulled into the driveway to make space for his brother’s car. Instead, you remained positive and sunny, a collection of DVD’s clutched in your arms and a change of clothes in your bag for the sleepover you were intending to have with your best friend, pizza money tucked into your bra for the food you would undoubtedly order and your heart skipping a couple of beats as you waited patiently for your spastic best friend to swing the door open following your series of knocks.

A few beats passed, before the lock was clicking and the door was shifting, and you dragged your eyes up along his chest. It was not the skinny and plaid covered frame you’d anticipated, but that of the messily cut tank top of a broader and more muscled older brother, a piece of candy hanging from his lips as he chewed it slowly, staring at you expectantly with a blank look.

“Mitch. I see you’re home, then.”

“Well, well, well. Aren’t you the observant one?” His words were sneering, and you scowled at him, used to his moody attitudes from over a decade of knowing the Stilinski boys, but not missing the colder than usual undertone to his words. The banter between the three of you had always been playful, somewhat teasing but his lips would always flicker up at the sides and you’d always been able to see the amusement sparkling in his eyes - much like his brother’s - but this version of Mitch just seemed empty and angry. “What do you want?”

“You’re being awfully rude to someone who knows your real name. I’ll post it under your next status update on Facebook. I wonder if the lacrosse team at Syracuse knows how to properly pronounce Polish names.”

Your threats about revealing his name always got a laugh out of him, or at least a fond roll of the eyes, but this time he just grunted at you and pulled a sour face, sighing like he had somewhere else to be, despite the fact that he was standing with bare feet and a pair of sweatpants on, and clearly had no other plans.

“Fine, be moody. Is Stiles here?”

“Do you see his jeep on the driveway?” Your jaw dropped at the tone of his voice, your shoulders slumping as you glanced back for a second, and when you turned back to him, you didn’t let your eyes meet his. Heat was crawling at your cheeks, and you took a few steps back from the doorway, swallowing down the beginnings of the lump forming in embarrassment from your faith and optimism, and Mitch let out a groan, lifting a hand to run through his hair as he swallowed the last of the candy stick he’d been nibbling on. “Wait, wait. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have been so rude to you.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen you in a bad mood, Mitch, it’s alright.”

“I’m still sorry, kiddo.” Once again, you were scowling, the nickname he knew annoyed you so much peeking through, and at your distaste for it, he was grinning at you cheekily, and just like that the tension between you both had been brushed away, no matter how many months passed between seeing on another. “Stiles isn’t in, though. He went out, like, a couple of minutes before you got here, I’m surprised you didn’t catch him before he went.”

“Well, did he say how long he’d be?”

The elder actually cringed, leaning on the doorpost and looking out at the surrounding of the street for a second, before fixing his attention back on you. “He told me not to wait up, so I'm assuming he’s going to be a while.” His eyes then dropped down to the bundle in your arms, and a pitiful look took over his features. “You had plans, didn’t you?”

You simply hummed, feeling your body deflating sadly as your plans fell through, and while you were disappointed, you couldn't exactly say you were surprised. Lately, your plans had been coming second in his eyes a lot, and he let out a sad sound himself. Something between attempting to comfort you, and annoyance at his younger sibling, and your cheeks twitched to show a barely present smile, one shoulder rising and falling as you tried to brush it off. “I bet he said something about Lydia needing him, huh?”

“He did, actually..”

You nodded, more to yourself than to him, before doing your best to perk back up, adjusting the belongings in your arms and trying to mask your disappointment. “Right, well, that’s all good. I can just catch up on some reading, anyway, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, it’s a shitty thing for him to do.” His voice was a little sharper than usual, and you let out a laugh, nodding at his words as he stood up a little further and opened the door for you. “Why don’t you come in, anyway? You can hang out with me?” You paused, eyes narrowing at him for a second as you studied him, and he raised his brows at you in his own silent analysis of your reaction. “You’re in love with Stiles, it’s been written all over your cute little face since you were freshman, and my girlfriend broke up with me, and you’re not the worst of his friends. So, why don’t you bring your broken heart inside, and we’ll order some takeout, and wallow in self-pity and misery together?”

Once again, a blush was covering your face, splotchy patches of warmth that made you uncomfortable. You wanted to get in your sweats, and order food and laugh with your best friend, but now Mitch was holding open the door for you and looking at you with a little grin, and you accepted, taking a few steps forwards and over the threshold and into the house as your emotions bubbled up and over.

Dropping your bag beside the front door and kicking off your shoes, the man plucked the armful of belongings from you and moved away for only a second, placing them down on the table and coming back to stand before you. It was an uncomfortable tension, but it was unusual. You had hung out with Mitch on multiple occasions, but never just the two of you. You sniffed lightly, and he let a rumbling sound out from deep within his chest, before placing an arm around your shoulders stiffly and pulling you into a loose hug. “I’m sorry about my brother, he’s an ass.”

You nodded into his shoulder, before bringing your arms up around him and squeezing him tightly, your hands bunching up in the back of the thin cotton shirt he was wearing. Only a second later, he was wrapping his other arm around your waist, and pressing his nose into your hair, letting out a shaky breath over your skin, and suddenly you were clinging to one another, your sniffling breaths muffled against his body.

You were trembling, you could feel it within yourself, the rush of emotions all making you feel weak, and yet no tears came out, because you weren’t entirely sad. You felt comfort in the arms of your friend, you felt safe, and you felt understood. His own pain made you feel less pathetic, and the way he was holding onto you just as tightly gave you the understanding that you weren’t suffering alone, and so when you were finally ready to pull back, his cheeks were a little damp and you gave him your best smile, bumping your forehead against his chin before stepping back.

“You promised me food, then?”

“That I did. What do you feel like?” He beamed, dragging a hand down his face and walking towards the kitchen letting you follow of your own accord and hop up onto one of the stools at the counter to watch him as he sorted through takeout menus. Passing them over to you, you glanced down at the pile of laminated and colourful leaflets, and you looked back up at him, shrugging.

“Stiles normally just orders us pizza, I brought a twenty because he likes the stuffed crust ones and to put his own toppings on and it adds one hell of a cost.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hands together and leaning his hands on the counter. “Yeah, that does sound like him, but what do you have?” He fixed you with a look when you gaped a little bit, before sighing and spreading out the collection before you. “Next time Stiles goes to just order a pizza, tell him what you want. These places are good if you want Chinese, but the Blue Dragon is my favourite because they do some pretty awesome spring rolls and dumplings. There’s also a Korean place, or an Indian place if you want something spicy but I don’t know if they deliver, we may have to go get it. If you really want pizza, there’s a place in there that’s better than Dominos, they just aren’t as popular so Stiles doesn’t bother with them.”

Upon finishing his spiel, your eyes were wide, and you thumbed through the other booklets, noting the way some of them had meals and dishes circled or highlighted, and the shiny blue of a fold-out menu for the Blue Dragon caught your attention, and you shifted it to the top.

“Do you really want Chinese food, or are you picking this because I said it was my favourite?”

His voice was stern but playful, and you opened it up, waving him off idly as he laughed at you and he circled around to stand beside you, the warmth of his body flushing over your side as he waited patiently. “I do actually want Chinese food, by the way. But since this is your preference, I figured we could order from here. You can tell me what’s good, and you get the stuff you like. Win-win.”

“Alright, I’ll take that deal.”

The two of you debated for a couple of minutes over the choices, before he was pulling out his phone and sitting up on the counter beside you, legs swinging as he orders all the food you both wanted, indulging you each time you poked at his leg and added onto the order when you came across something you liked, and you were sure you’d spent considerably more than you had on an unnecessary amount of food, but if you didn’t have the funds, you could always pay Mitch back.

He was holding up a bottle of whisky, offering you a glass with a few chunks of ice in the bottom, and you accepted it happily, following him through to the living room and collapsing on the couch. It was a little awkward, to begin with, the two of you chatting between yourselves and sipping on the drinks you had, before eventually settling on a movie. When it began, however, you were a few drinks in and suddenly the conversation was flowing smoothly, the dialogue and plot of the film falling away as the two of you inched closer to one another from opposite ends of the couch, more and more enthusiastic about the topics you ricocheted between.

Food had arrived, and you’d eaten, between laughs and jokes and his eyes lingering on you each time you tried new portions of the meal so that he could watch for your reactions. You loved them all, his recommendations panning out, and soon, half of the bottle was gone, and you were laying out across the couch with your legs across his lap and you head in the cloud, warmth filling you from head to toe.

He had a hand on your knee, full-bellied laughs coming from his mouth as he stroked up and down your leg gently, the movie had faded away into the background. He had listened as you poured out your heart to him over his younger brother in your tipsy stupor, and he in return had shared with you the truths of his break up.

You told him about the way you hated that Stiles seemed to never have time for you anymore, and that he continued to chase Lydia years later than his original crush, hopelessly falling at her feet when she’d only just become aware of him and was using him for her own gains. He told you about Katrina, the blonde bombshell whom you remembered. She was a cheerleader at Beacon Hills high and Mitch’s high school sweetheart, and she went to a college in New York like him, but after the first year the spark began to fade, and the distance may as well have been ocean’s wide, because they had drifted. What hurt him the most was change, the nagging feeling that he could have done something different, that she could have been the one if he’d made more visits to her on the weekends and more trips to see her on the holidays.

The confessions had only ever been shared with one another, and suddenly the two of you had a bond that nobody else could touch, because your deepest fears and secrets had been exposed to one another in a night of greasy takeout and almost a full bottle of whiskey, but the absence you’d felt when your best friend wasn’t by your side was filled in an entirely new way by Mitch.

It was playful and refreshing and relaxing, it was everything you didn’t know you were missing. Until it wasn’t.

Somewhere between the end of the movie and the end of the bottle, the atmosphere between you both had changed. Somewhere between the time his thumb has stopped rubbing at the skin below your knee to move up to his fingers digging into your lower thigh, and when you sat up to talk to him and found yourself almost seated in his lap. After you told him to stop calling you kiddo, and he called you kitten instead, the energy between you both was different.

His eyes were darker and he was licking at his lips and then his mouth was slotted against yours, tongues tangling and hands roaming and the temperature in the room shot up to boiling. You were in his lap, grinding and letting his hands wander, and then he was thumbing at your tits and mouthing at your neck. Somewhere between him moaning kitten into your mouth and sucking on your lower lip to the way he was bucking his hips up into you and suddenly, it was more.

He was dragging your panties to the side and you were tugging down his seats just far enough, and then you were riding him on the couch. Sloppy and messy and a combination of the need for connection and the wish for affection, you were all but sobbing into his mouth as your eyes rolled back and his fingers dug into your bare flesh, and then it was over.

You were sweaty and hot, and you felt boneless as you let him lift you off of his body, pressing one more long kiss to your lips before he was tucking himself into his sweats and laying back on the couch and chuckling at you with a dark smirk when you wobbled on weak legs as you went to clean yourself up. It wasn’t awkward when you returned, it was calming and relaxed and you grabbed yourself a second plate of takeaway food and settled back down onto the couch with your feet in his lap once again, and a new movie on the screen.

The night passed with the rest of your movie collection, and eating a surprising amount of candy, and you inevitably changed into your comfy clothes when the hour passed midnight. You had teased him about his long hair while running your fingers through it, and he had made you flustered in return by speaking through his food and telling you how you weren’t complaining while tugging at it and bouncing on his cock.

It wasn’t until you heard the rumbling of the jeep that you felt that same dread and loneliness slip back into your body, the squeaking of tires on the stones and the slamming of the door one side, and you rolled yourself off of the couch with a groan, a scowl taking over in place of your smile as you scooped up everything you had and tried to shove it haphazardly into your bag, booking a cab in the process and leaving you phone on the side.

He began to grab at the rubbish littering the surfaces with you, the two of you stumbling and scooping up empty food boxes as you crammed them all into the kitchen bin, and did your best to clean up after yourselves, when the door finally opened, the sound of Stiles kicking off his shoes and hanging up his cute, humming happily to himself as he walked through the house.

“Oh my God, it smells like food in here. Did you get takeout? Did you save me any an-” He paused as he saw you, your eyes avoiding his as you grabbed your phone, smiling at the boy you had spent your evening with as he slid it towards you. The easy and lightweight vibe you’d found so easily with Mitch was now thick and tense, and you wanted to leave as soon as possible. “Hey! What are you doing here so late?”

You purse your lips, a tight smile on your face as you pushed past him without a word, and Mitch simply fixed him with a disbelieving look, the hyperactive of the pair of brothers was watching you go curiously, and both followed you to the front door as you pulled on your shoes.

“Are you mad at me, or something?”

“Yes, Stiles, I’m mad at you.” You bit your tongue from saying any more, wanting to let him wallow in it a little longer, and his jaw dropped and brows furrowed as he watched you go. Leaning up to press a kiss to one stubbled cheek, you patted his shoulder as you opened the door and stepped out, pulling out your phone to check on the taxi, only to see it pulling up to the curb, and you flashed him a toothy grin. “Thanks for being such great company while your brother was a jerk.”

He leaned against the door, muffling the sound of protest from Stiles behind, his body filling the doorway as he winked at you cheekily. “No problem, kitten.”

With that, their front door slammed shut, and you were stepping into your cab, tired and buzzed and ready to get into your own bed, and try to forget that the boy you loved had once again forgotten about you to chase after a girl who would never see him as anything more than friends.

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whitestaghere · 3 years

Text

War, peace and love - Edmund Pevensie x reader

Hey there~ it's been a while and decided I should write something new. So here it is! Thought I should try something new so, angst with a little bit of fluff at the end. Hope you all enjoy!! ❤️✌🏻

"You are such.. AN IDIOT," Edmund pushed my shoulder making me stumble backwards, widening my eyes in shock at what he just did. "DID YOU WANT TO DIE?!"

Pushing him back I scowled at him, "I DON'T SEE WHY YOU'RE SO BOTHERED ABOUT THIS! AS FAR AS I REMEMBER IT, YOU WEREN'T BOTHERED ABOUT ME YESTERDAY?!" taking in a breath I continued, "YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!!"

He pushed my limits this time. He was the cause of this heated argument, why everything had to go wrong for me.

>>> Flashback <<<

Everything was happening so fast.

Susan nearly falling to death, but thank God for Trumpkin being there. Lucy gone in search of Aslan. Edmund, Peter, Caspian and I, on the battle field alongside the narnians. It was a fight to death and victory against the Telmarines.

I reminded myself to thank Capsian, for always pushing me to work better with the sword. Hours and hours of training brought me some luck here. Apart from the fact that a Telmarine swordsman nearly took my head off. Only for Edmund to swing in just in time. He did that of course, not forgetting to glare at me and mumbling curse words under his breath.

Simply. He hated me, I hated him.

Edmund was completely against me coming on the battlefield. Saying I wouldn't be of any use and that I would run away pathetically. That making Caspian and Peter change their minds, being scared that they would put my life at risk. Then there's me, this was what I was training so hard for. I was not going to give in just like that! Not forgetting that, I wanted to prove Edmund otherwise.. and just to piss the boy off too, I managed to change the high king and prince's minds.

And where did this rivalry begin?

To be honest. I don't even know.

He just decided to pick on me, hate me. And I had enough of being weak. And in no time, I began to give him the cold shoulder too. Susan and Lucy saying it was just "a phase". I didn't care. I had enough of his attitude, looking down at me constantly and having to say something bad about everything I do.

Back to the battle.

Everything was happening so fast. Taking down one Telmarine just for another to, throws themselves at you. My legs were aching, heart beating rapidly, mind racing. Running across the field I blocked a sword swinging at Peter.

Peter signalling me to duck he blocked a swordsman, this time behind me.

Turning back to face me, he grinned, "thank you for that." The smile of his fading away just as more Telmarines headed towards us.

Nodding my head at him we continued fighting side by side. Suddenly I bumped into someone. The force pushing me off my feet. Stumbling backwards, I met the hard ground.

I whinced in pain and let out a yelp right after, feeling a much larger force on my body. Opening my eyes my heart began to speed at an inhuman pace.

Edmund.

Out of all the people it had to be him.

Eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, he let out a groan. I widened my eyes in instant panic the second his eyes shot open, connecting his gaze with mine. If my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I saw a hint of red tint his cheeks. But before I had time to process the situation I could hear my name being called out.

"ED! N/N! WATCH OUT!" Capsian shouted, running towards us.

Looking behind Edmund's figure a Telmarine stood holding his sword mid air, prepared to get Edmund. Immediately, I pushed Edmund off me. Picking up my sword I blocked him just in time.

A piercing pain in my side, and I get kicked back down. Letting out a shriek in pain I held the place I got stabbed. Backing up, and facing the Telmarine behind me, I tried to retrieve my discarded sword.

It was out of my reach and everything was just getting way too blurry.

"Y/N!" I could make out Edmund's figure fighting off the swordsman in front of me.

I could hear voices calling out my name, but couldn't seem to focus. But no, I couldn't give up just like this. I had to get up. Using all the energy left in my body, I grabbed my sword and continued fighting. The rest of it all going in blur, maybe it was just the pain, or for the fact that Caspian and Peter kept trying to cover for me.

But when the Telmarines began to flee and Lucy had come along with Aslan just in time to block them, exhaustion and pain decided to take over.

And the last thing I heard was someone calling my name and my vision went black.

>>> end of flashback <<<

Lucy had rushed in to the scene, acting fast with her healing cordial. The others relieved that I was fine, but all except for one. And that was Edmund.

That leaves us here. In this heated argument.

"YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!"

He let out an annoyed sigh, "YOU TRIED TO SACRIFICE YOUR LIFE FOR ME! AND WHAT WAS I DOING? I HAD TO SIT THEIR LIKE A COWARD!!"

Letting out a fake laugh, I rolled my eyes at him. I can't believe him, he's still so full of himself.

"That's all you care about huh? Yourself. I'm beginning to see why I hate you so much!"

At this, his eyes were filled with anger. The expression on his face, nothing but bewildered. Making his way upto me he grabbed my shoulder.

"What. did. you. say?" he said through gritted teeth boring his eyes into the side of my head.

Glaring back at him I pushed his hand off my shoulder. "You care only about yourself," I repeated in the same tone as his. Letting out a laugh of frustration he ruffled his hair.

"Really Y/N? Is that how you think of me?"

Not missing the sudden softness in his voice I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Boy does he have moodswings.

"Hmm? You think I'm selfish? That-that I care only about.. myself?" he held his index finger at his chest.

The change in his nature confused me to the fullest. Never had he ever been like this in front of me. Why is he like this all of a sudden? Maybe he's just trying to trick me and make me accept that he was right. But I couldn't grasp why is the softness in his voice breaking me?

"Y/N?" his voice was becoming a little stern. I tried to avoid his gaze. Something in me couldn't bare to look into his eyes. Placing a hand on my cheek gently, he turned me to face him.

My face began to heat up instantly, due to the close proximity and for the instant skinship.

There came the guilt. The look on his face breaking me. He looked so sad. He was hurt. And I was the reason behind it. A part of me wished I could take back the words I said. The other part of me, questioning why I'm being affected by this when he's treated me like this the entire time.

"Edmund I-"

"You think I don't care??! Well for your information, I care about my siblings, the Narnians, Caspian! Why do you think I even fought in this war, in the first place?! It's because I care! I could just leave, say I want to go home! But no! I care! I care about my parents! I care.. I care about you..." his voice cracked.

He wasn't making this any easier for me.

I was taken back by the switch in his moods, the sudden "I care about you" and I just didn't know what to say.

Not wasting a second Edmund turned around leaving the room. All I could do was watch him leave. I wanted to stop him, but I was afraid I would say something stupid and make things even worse. Sitting down I ran a hand through my hair.

"Well, that was new.."

Switching my gaze from the floor I saw Peter walking in slowly. I sighed looking away.

"You should talk to him.."

"I-I don't know Pete.."

"What do you mean you don't know?" he sat down next to me. I could feel his eyes lingering on my face.

"I don't know how to face him. I-I don't get why he's like this... and funny part is.. I-I think I hurt him," tears began to blur my vision the second I said those words. Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulder, rubbing my arm up and down gently.

"He does care you know.."

I rubbed my eyes furiously turning around to face him, "then why was he always picking on me? It didn't seem like he cared then?"

Peter let out a low breath, "Ed doesn't really tell people how he feels.. not even with us, he refuses to show his emotions. Most of the time he's cold as ice on the outside.. aaand," he dragged. "Is pretty stubborn.. I guess you could say that's how he protects himself.."

"Protects himself?" I tiled my head in confusion.

"From the world. From getting hurt. He pushes people away thinking they would hurt him. And he's always thought less about himself.."

"I would never.." I mumbled under my breath. But Peter heard it loud and clear, nodding his head "I know.."

"But he does care about you.. so much," Peter looked at me, his gaze soft. Nodding my head I let out a sigh.

"Thank you Pete."

He gave me a soft reassuring smile and gestured me to go after Edmund.

I knew what I had to do now. Running out of the room I set a pace through the Palace. Stopping here and there in order to find out if anyone had seen Edmund.

Maybe things were complicating between Edmund and I. I had to cover the hurt I felt, the feelings I had all this time but now... now I needed to clear everything, make things right between us.

Finding myself in the hall I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, eyes darting everywhere. Where had this boy gone off to?

Turning around I saw a familiar figure standing at the balcony. It didn't take me more than a second to recognise that it was him.

Lifting up my gown I ran upto him. His back was facing me, so I cleared my throat to grab his attention. Spinning around almost immediately, my eyes connected with his warm brown ones.

And without a word he turned around once again.

"Ed.."

No response.

"Ed," I walked closer to him only for him to step away from me.

"Ed please.. look at me."

He was clearly ignoring me.

"Well I hope you'll listen to what I'm about to say.." I took in a long breath, "look, I'm sorr-"

He turned around instantly cutting me off, "oh so now you're sorry?"

Trying my best not to roll my eyes at his antics I looked down at my hands. "I-I didn't know.."

"Didn't know what? Oh wait I get it! Now you think I'm pathetic huh?"

I looked back at him with disbelief. Was he really doing this? Again? He wants to stir up another argument. Unbelievable. But, I didn't have it in me to get mad at him. I wanted to sort this out, so I shook my head in an attempt to not let his words get to me.

"I didn't say that."

"Hmm.. then what are you trying to say Y/N? Tell me."

Trying my best to avoid his gaze I gulped.

"I don't need your apologies."

"Look I didn't mean what I said back there. I was just mad and stressed with the whole situation.."

He scoffed looking away.

"I just... I don't understand why you hate me so much. What did I do? Where-where did things go wrong?"

This time he looked at me raising his eyebrows. But he said nothing. He just stood there, gaze fixed on the floor with an unreadable expression.

"Ed.." his gaze still fixed on the ground.

I took a step closer to him, but he didn't budge. Just stood there. The silence was just unbearable.

Not sure what to do or say, I stood there watching him. The air surrounding us, a mixture of tension and awkwardness.

Observing his face, I realised how different he was. How tall he had gotten. How the freckles sprayed at the bridge of his nose. How soft his hair looked, my fingers tingling with an urge to brush my hands through it. How his lips were a peachy pink, almost like he had tinted it with gloss.

I hadn't noticed how much he had changed over the years. My face began to heat up for the second time that day, and I averted my gaze.

Glancing at him once again it was like a flame lit inside me. And the next second I did something that I never dreamt of doing.

My body decided to act on it's own. Mindlessly I stepped closer to him, standing on my toes I placed my hand on his face.

"Y/N?" confusion laced in his voice but I was too caught up in the moment to really respond to him.

My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and there you have it. I brushed my lips on his momentarily.

His body tensed in my grip, eyes wide open and pupils expanding to the fullest.

Pulling away from him I let out a shaky breath. But when I looked at Edmund and the look on his face, I widened my eyes in realisation. What have I done?! What was I thinking? How could I be such a fool?! All I could think about is how the boy in front of me could be hating me even more now. I just wanted to make things right between us, but I let my feelings take the upper hand. And now.. I expected the worse.

I turned away from him placing my hand on my lips unconsciously. Even though it was just for a second, I missed the feeling of his lips already.

Next thing I know, Edmund grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him. I was afraid of what he was going to say, what he was going to do, to meet his gaze. But instead without a word, he pulled me into a hug. Arms wrapped around my waist he pulled me closer sighing.

Something about this made me feel so comfortable in his arms. I wanted to scream. My heart thumping against my chest, I slowly hugged him back.

"I'm sorry.." he sighed.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot. For being a coward."

"You're not a coward," I mumbled.

"But I am.. I'm sorry for being so hard on you all these years. But can I just ask you something? To clarify. So that what I'm going to say next won't leave me having to run away in embarrassment?"

I hummed in response.

"D-do you like me?"

My body stiffened. Wait. Is this heading to where I think it's heading?

"I-I.."

"Because I do."

My eyes widened at this. Pulling away from his embrace I looked at him in shock. Is he being serious? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was so unbelievable, to the point that I had to pinch myself just to make sure I was not dreaming.

"You.. you what?"

"I know it's hard to believe. But I do."

"But.. you.. you"

Rubbing the nape of his neck he smiled nervously. Clearing his throat he closed his eyes.

"I didn't like it.. I didn't like you getting involved in all of this.. I didn't want you coming to narnia either, because I didn't want to risk your life. You've always tried to save me. Even when we were kids. And I could never do the same, that leading me to thinking you might consider me a coward. The others were fine with you coming along, even if I said no and I just wanted to stop you. Stop you from coming with us to battle and hurting yourself. And I let that happen."

I looked at him.

He opened his eyes gaze locking with mine he released a shaky breath, "I pushed you away, in order for you to actually give in and stay on the safe side. But that.. that made me nearly lose you.." he took a breath, "and I was scared.. so scared, that you wouldn't feel the same. Specially when you began to avoid me. It was fair of course, after what I put you through. I was afraid I'd end up getting hurt, so I wanted to brush off all feelings and instead treated you badly again."

He took my hands in his, "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I'm sorry. It was fair that you treated me that way.. but I just want you to know, that.. that.." he struggled. "ASLAN! I LIKE YOU!" he shouted. "I like you.. so so much."

I couldn't help but giggle and look in awe. I was at a loss of words. Not getting a reply from me, he sighed pulling away only for me to hold him back.

"Ed.. of course I forgive you. And I'm sorry for everything I said too. I understand how you feel.."

He smiled at me softly but that was soon replaced by a mixture of emotions, hard to explain. That's when it struck me. All this care. All this blushing and constant glances. The instant comfort I felt being in his arms. It wasn't just me being hurt over him hating on me all these years. I wanted things to be okay between us, I wanted to get closer to him. This side of him, I had never seen it before, but now it explains. What I was craving to see from him. I liked him too.

"I-I.. Ed?"

He hummed in response, eyes exploring my face.

"I like you too.." At once a smile wiped across his face. He came closer to me with our hands still intertwined together.

"Sorry I didn't get that. Could you please repeat it?" he brought his ear closer and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Pushing him away and hiding my face in my hands I squealed.

Laughing he took my hands back in his and pulled me towards him. "You like me too?"

I nodded my head shyly. He chuckled moving in closer and brushing his lips against mine. Pulling away just for a second he whispered, "you would not believe how happy I am.." he leaned back in, connecting our lips together.

Wrapping my arms around his torso he cupped my face. Tilting his head Edmund smiled into the kiss. Pulling away once again he leaned his forehead against mine not before pecking my nose. I giggled.

"FINALLY!" Apparently, we had an audience. An audience of one though. "Shouldn't I be getting a little credit here?" Peter smirked. Edmund rolled his eyes. Looking at eachother we broke into a fit of giggles.

Third person's pov

And there they stood; in eachother's embrace, eyes filled with adoration and a love blossoming within them. The war replaced now with that of peace and love.

Well this turned out rather long than expected 😂 I really found this fun to write and I hope you all enjoy reading it!

Love you all, stay safe and happy holidays! ❤️

#edmund x reader #chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie x reader #king edmund #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #prince caspian #narnia aslan #narnia

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autisticlenaluthor · 2 years

Note

did kara and lena ever get into a fight when they were little? i was wondering because preteens are usually very hotheaded (i imagine kara was) and yk kids get in arguments with their friends. on the other hand, their dynamics were very different to usual friendships – with how they met and how precious both of them knew their time together was. but still, they were kids, and kids can’t always keep their cool so it made me wonder how they would navigate a possible argument yk?

oh they totally would argue

one of lena’s big things is that she hates being treated differently bc she’s sick. if kara were to let her win while playing a game or do something bc she feels bad for her, lena would pick a fight about it. kara would get it but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t still slip up sometimes.

the type of radiation lena undergoes can also cause mood swings and irritability. she becomes generally more snippy and short tempered when in the hospital because she can’t act that way at home without severe punishment. so a lot of that pent up anger gets taken out on kara and casey because she knows they won’t hurt her for it (it’s not justified but she’s like 12 and most of it is a side effect to the treatment)

i also see lena having a lot of jealousy towards kara because she doesn’t understand why kara’s bio family and her adoptive family have both been loving and kind to her no matter what. she can’t understand why kara deserves a good family and she doesn’t. it’s one of those things she never vocalizes but she spends a lot of time wrestling with her jealousy as a kid.

i think kara on the other hand would get mad at lena for taking certain things for granted. lena is a genius and it’s very obvious given her medical knowledge at such a young age while kara, on the other hand, struggles in school (specifically in science which she used to be great at before her parents died). lena doesn’t have to try when she wants to be good at something and she doesn’t show any indication that she cares about how smart she is. it bothers kara bc she would do anything to be as smart as lena is, and it would definitely lead to some arguments between them

i also see kara getting irked by more petty things. if lena sides with alex over her in one of their sibling squabbles kara would get all “you’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side”. it’s not rational but she’s also getting bullied in school and she feels like lena’s the only one she has in her corner. so when lena doesn’t side with her, it feels like a direct attack.

as they reach 12-13 there would be some conflict over kara wanting to do things like play games or watch them shows made for kids their age or younger. lena would always say no because she thinks they’re too old for it, which kara would find annoying because they’re not actually that old. for lena, she’d see it from the perspective of a luthor, where shes never been allowed to be a kid, even when she was very young. she’d eventually snap at kara and say something along the lines of “not all of us get to do fun kiddy things, some people have a reputation to uphold.” it would be a mixture of her own trauma and also things she parrots from her parents and lex.

i don’t think any of their fights would be long lasting just bc like you said, they know their time together is limited. after a day or two they’d both realize whatever they’d been arguing about in the first place was probably pretty stupid.

#sorry this was so long lmao #supercorp #supercorp cancer au

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survey--s · 10 months

Text

555.

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) My grandparents were married for about seventy years when my granddad died.

Do you have any Eastern European ancestry? I do not - well, not to my knowledge anyway.

Where is your car parked right now? On the street right outside my house.

When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? It depends what you mean by travel. I drove home from work alone about an hour ago, lol. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yeah, no shoes allowed in our house unless they’re slippers/indoor-only.

What’s your favorite movie series? Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean and Harry Potter.

How are you feeling today? Tired but overall pretty good.

Look to the right - what’s the first thing you see? The cat. Toby is fast asleep next to me.

^^ What does that thing remind you of? Err, not much lol. He’s a cat - he just reminds me of cats, I guess? What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I had like blonde/caramel coloured highlights as a teenager.

What is something that’s considered a luxury, but you wouldn’t want to live without? A car.

Do you want to move anytime soon? No, not really. I’m quite happy with where I live now.

Did you have coffee this morning? Yeah, I have coffee every morning before I go to work.

How good/bad was the quality of education you received in high school? The education was actually pretty good, so were most of the teachers - I just didn’t really thrive in that kind of environment as it was too small and cliquey for my liking.

What was the most interesting year of your life, and why? I don’t really know, from an outsiders view it was probably the year I lived and studied in France.

What was the first social media site you ever used? Bebo, I think.

Do you have any exes you really regret dating? No, not really. They all made sense to me at the time. What brand of laundry detergent do you use? Just the Tesco own brand stuff - it’s half the price of any branded ones and it smells good too.

Are you prone to mood swings? Only when I’m due my period.

Have you ever lied on a resume? Or even in a job interview? Yeah, but not about qualifications or experience, just about my confidence and how I’d handle certain situations lol.

Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Suzanne has a really nice, minimalist home which always looks clean and smart - Susie’s is lovely and cosy and really welcoming.

What was the last thing you bought, other than food? Err, petrol maybe? I don’t remember.

Do you smoke? Or vape? I don’t do either of those things.

What are you dreading right now? I’m not really dreading anything right now. I’m too tired really ha.

What brought about the end of the worst relationship you’ve been in? He held me up against the wall by my throat.

Where was the last place you spent the night other than your own home? Helen’s place for a pet-sit.

Do you have any step- or half-siblings? Technically yes, but we’ll never meet.

Have you ever been catcalled? Unfortunately.

How old were you when you started scheduling your own doctors appointments? I think I was eighteen, but I never really visited the doctor much as a kid and when I did, I was reliant on my parents to take me due to the location.

Have you ever driven across an international border? Yeah, England to Scotland but it’s not really a border lol.

When was the last time you spoke to a neighbor? This morning.

Is your best friend male or female? Male.

When was the last time you washed your bed sheets? Friday. They get washed and changed every Friday.

What do people always seem to think is weird about you? Everything lol.

Ever notice how high schools in movies/tv shows are portrayed way differently than in real life? Of course.

Do you ever braid your hair? I do wear it in pigtails in winter as then I can wear a beanie over the top for work.

What food sounds the most appetizing right now? I’m not really that hungry as I had a pizza for tea about an hour ago.

#survey #surveys

0 notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends.

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become.

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates.

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates.

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door.

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled.

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said.

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear.

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

��I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages.

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable.

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile.

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer.

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.”

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded.

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.”

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me.

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album.

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet.

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

The Way Back {Faramir x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3057 Summary: Love can be found in the unlikeliest of places, such as in a war-torn city after a win.

You took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. It felt like you hadn’t had the time to breathe in days. It had been battle, after battle, after battle against Sauron and his forces, ending up in this, the grand battle outside of Gondor. But the enemy had finally been defeated, the last of the orcs crying back to Mordor. You removed your helmet and let your hair fly free in the breeze as the world seemed to catch it’s own breath back. There was still plenty to do, such as tend to the wounded, burn the bodies of the deceased, and begin plans to rebuild the city. There were many fallen on both sides, even though the battle had been won by yourself, and by Gondor. By Minas Tirith. You looked about you, savoring the moment of peace, before plunging yourself into even more work.

You regretted that you did not attend the last battle at Mordor, but you had a much more pressing issue of helping with Gondor. There was so much here that had to be done, and you put your faith in your three companions. Legolas, your younger brother, who looked so much like you with delicate elfin features, but was a killer with a bow. Gimli, the dwarf that you came to see as a friend and an annoyance in your life, almost like a grumpy old pet, but one who could swing an axe like it was no ones business. And Aragorn, your best friend, a fellow Ranger, who had returned from Mordor and would soon be crowned King. But for now, he left you to care for Eowyn, a woman that he had introduced you to, who had been hurt in the battle. As two female warriors, the two of you struck up a quick kinship. It had been you who had given her a horse to ride among the riders, before you went with your fellowship to hold the dead to their oaths. Your horse, one of the fastest in the world, and the envy of many of the riders, including her brother.

You sat with her in the healing wing, dabbing her forehead gently with a damp cloth.

“I’m barely moving enough to sweat, y/n, there’s no need for this,” She said, trying to wave you away with her injured hand. You shushed her, and put it back down to her side. She looked more fragile than you were used to seeing her. Before, you had seen it in her eyes that she was always ready for a fight, the inner beast in her wanting to come out and growl at the world. A true dragon in pretty colors.

“Would you rather me go and get one of the healers to do it for you? I feel they would not be as good company as I though...” You threatened, and she sighed and allowed you to go on with your blotting. You were not a healer, though you knew a couple of things. Like to constantly check your friend for fever, for the wounds that she had sustained were nasty. She may have stabbed the witch King in the face, but she paid the price for that.

“I don’t like feeling helpless like this. I want to help the healers - it is only a couple of wounds. But no, all they let me do is go for one walk a day among the garden, like I’m some sort of...”

“Woman?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Let us go on our walk then. Let them dare to stop us while we are together. They can try to bully one warrior, but two? I do not think them so foolish.” You took hold of Eowyn’s better hand, and helped her onto her feet. She was eager to be up, and there was a flounce to her step, almost girlish. Sometimes she lamented being a woman, but there was still some femininity to her.

Together you walked out of the healing wing, and out into the open air of Gondor. A lot had been ruined during the war, and was being rebuilt. There were footsoldiers still around, and were helping to guide the reconstruction process. Everyone was helping out - even children, who were spreading the mortar over the walls with their little hands. “Are you going to return to Rohan as soon as you are healed?” You asked Eowyn as you strolled arm in arm, avoiding the places where the most damage had been done.

“After Aragorn’s coronation,” She answered. “I see no sense in returning, just to turn around and come back in a couple of weeks. And with my brother constantly off with the Riders of Rohan, they are going to need a new leader.”

“I see,” You said, nodding. “I’m so sorry to hear about your Uncle, Eowyn. He was a great man, as as I’m sure you knew. And he taught you well, you’ll take his place fantastically.”

“What about you? I remember your father wanted you to return to Mirkwood-”

You shook your head vehemently. “I too will be staying until the coronation. Legolas may be returning but I’m not so quick to leave the scene of one of the greatest battles that Middle Earth has ever known. I’m reluctant to go back...”

“Why?”

“I’m his heir, and he is getting older. I know that he wants me to take up the throne, but I am not Queen material, Eowyn. I belong on the battlefield. That’s where I feel the most comfortable! Not among the rich dresses and the gossip of elfen society,” You opened up to Eowyn, knowing that her, above anyone else, would understand how you feel. “Legolas is better suited as King than I ever would be as Queen. Were it I were born second rather than first...”

“Either way, it would be nice to have someone who is more sympathetic to humans on the throne,” Eowyn said, coming to a halt. You looked at her confused. “There he is - that is Faramir, the new Steward of Gondor.”

You followed her eyeline to see a man, leaning over one of the walls, looking out at the wreckage of the grounds that had been the battlefield. His hair was to his shoulders, a messy light brown - it was a look that many of the human men wore. Aragorn. Boromir -

Of course! This had been the brother that Boromir had mentioned to you during the nights when you two had watch together. But with some more burns upon him than Boromir had ever seen. You had heard of what had happened to him. His own father had tried to kill him.

“Shall we introduce ourselves?” You asked. Eowyn, who was far from timid even while she was wearing a gown rather than armor, nodded her approval.

You approached him together, which did not seem to intimidate him, for he gave you a surprising smile when you reached him. “I hope we aren’t interrupting your thoughts,” You said, pleasantly.

“Not at all,” He inisisted. “I always have time for two of our heroes.”

You beamed down at Eowyn, seeing the little flush on her cheeks. It was amazing seeing her talent be recognized. You were about to praise her even more, just to see if she could go as red as a rose, when one of the healers came running up, interrupting the mood. “You should be resting Lady Eowyn!” She chided.

“But...” Eowyn started, but then gave in rather easily. “Excuse me. I hurt my hand while killing the Witch King. I hope you understand my quick departure.”

You couldn’t stop grinning at her little amount of bragging. She deserved that much. Faramir bowed his head respectfully as the healer took Eowyn away, who was still complaining that she was fine. “Did you receive an injury while doing something important like killing a Witch King?” He asked.

“I stubbed my toe while taking down an Oliphaunt,” You shrugged, making him grin. You realized while he was doing so that he was actually pretty handsome .. for a human. He had a softer face than both Aragorn and Boromir, the only two humans that you could claim had been your friends. Or still were, in Aragorn’s case. He wasn’t as bristly. And he had very kind eyes. The race of men really was starting to grown on you.

Your father had come to Aragorn’s coronation. You had not expected him to. He very rarely left Mirkwood. Not since the Battle of the Five Armies had he ventured anywhere near this far. But the King returning to his throne was a grand deal, so you supposed it wasn’t that out of the ordinary. You stood beside your brother in welcoming your dear friend to the throne, and had managed to position yourself in a way that let you look at the Steward. He stood with Eowyn, who had become as wonderful a friend to him as she had to you. A sister to the both of you, though she needed no more siblings - not with a gruff one like Eomer about.

“When are you going to tell father?” Legolas whispered after Aragorn had passed.

“Tell him what?” You hissed.

“About how you are in love with a human,” He said, smiling widely. You nudged him and he nearly fell into Gimli, but his elf-like reflexes stopped him from doing so. “He can’t take his eyes off of you. Is that why you dressed up today? It is so weird to see you in a gown.”

“Can you please be quiet and enjoy our friend’s special day?” You asked in Elvish. Legolas did quiet down but you kept sneaking peeks over at Faramir. The two of you had gotten rather close in the last couple of months. And you might even think that you had given your heart over to the man, though it was very painful to think about. You would continue to remain youthful for many, many years, barely gaining a wrinkle while this man would grow old, wither, die. Life was cruel that way. Unbelievably cruel.

You saw eyes looking at you behind Faramir, and caught your father’s stern gaze. Your eyes widened, and like a child caught doing something bad, you immediately looked anywhere but your father, pretending to be distracted by the leaves, or the sweet little hobbits.

After the ceremony was a lovely party, which Aragorn did not attend because he went straight into his duties. You could say a lot of things about Aragorn, but not that he wasn’t dedicated to his work. You walked through the party, surprising a great number of people by wearing an intricate Elven gown for the occasion. Most of these people had only seen you in your fighting garb, which looked a great deal like Legolas’s. In fact, on more than one occasion, you had been mistaken for one another. Definitely not on this day, though.

You wandered, before Faramir’s hand lightly brushed against your arm, pulling you into conversation. “You look...” He said, gazing at you up and down, trying to find the words. You decided rather than waste time, you would finish his sentence for him.

“-like a beautiful Elven lady?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Faramir said with a grin. He looked bashful, an expression that became him. He could be the most cold, hardened warrior, but around you, he seemed to be a bit more of a bashful mess. It was a very endearing trait. And it was something that brought the warmth right out of you.

“Yes, my daughter is a very beautiful Elven lady,” Your father’s familiar voice said from you behind you. Your eyes said ‘Uh-oh’ faster than your mouth could, and you turned to see him standing there. The blonde hair that the whole family had was gleaming brightly in the sun light. “I’m stealing her for a moment from you, Steward.”

“Of course,” Faramir said with a nod. He walked away with his hands behind his back, having recovered very well from his injuries. You watched as he walked towards Eowyn, and they struck up a friendly conversation. Your two favorite humans - and yet it gave you a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you did not like. You were wary of them being close. You were fond of both of them and you would not be surprised if they became overly fond of one another.

“Is that him?” Your father asked, following your line of sight. You stopped staring, and turned back towards him to give him the respect that he both deserved and demanded.

“Is that whom?” You questioned, your eyebrow arching upwards.

“The human that has stolen your heart?” Your father’s steely gaze cut through you like a knife. So he knew. You looked behind him for Legolas, and once you had caught his eye, you gave him a glare. “Do not blame your brother like you are some sort of child. He didn’t tell me a thing. It is entirely obvious.”

“Do you think that he knows?” You asked, swallowing any denial that you might have had bubbling.

“Since he is an inferior human, I would suppose not.” Your father said, chin held high. “I was going to ask you to come back with me. Take your place as the ruler of Mirkwood. There is a lot of work to be done.”

The happiness that you had felt for Aragorn, and then the slight giddiness that you had around Faramir had dissipated entirely. You were back to the way that the elves usually were. Hard-browed. No emotion showing.

“I’m sure that there is,” You said, not excited at all about the prospect of returning to your home. “And you are sure that you want me to be doing it?”

“As the oldest, it is your duty. Female or not,” Your father said. But he wasn’t catching your eye - he continued to glance over at Faramir. “You have caught his attention most ardently. He will not stop looking in your direction. It almost reminds me of your mother.”

Your heart started to beat in your chest, but your expression did not change. Still, there was a little bit of hope shining through. You tried to catch your father’s eye, but he kept looking away, which was unusual. Usually, he enjoyed looking right into the eyes of the person that he was talking to. It was a power play. And now you were the one who was trying to be the one in power.

“Is there any way that we can postpone it, father?” You asked, trying to make yourself taller so that he could not avoid looking at you. “Just for a few decades? Hardly any time at all - and all of that work will still be waiting for me.”

“A couple of decades? So you can come back after your human lover dies, and take out your grief in your work like I had?” Thranduil asked, tutting. You have never heard him tut before. But you also knew that he had a point. You remembered how he had thrown himself into his duties as King when your mother had died. He hadn’t given himself the proper time to grieve, and his leadership was lack for that. “We’d better give it a century or two. I might be able to finish my own tasks in time for that.”

“Surely - you’re joking? This is the first joke that you make and you decide for it to be this?” You questioned, unable to take your father seriously at this moment. His expression had not changed at all. In fact, now, it looked a little bit angry.

“I do not joke.” He said, glaring at you. “I am trying to give you the opportunity to love.”

You tried to search for any sign of deceit in his eyes, but could find none. He even looked a little ... flustered? Uncomfortable at the idea of talking about love with his daughter? Either way, you weren’t going to pass this opportunity up. You clasped your hands in front of yourself and gave him a bow which he then returned, before sweeping himself away to talk to Legolas, which was always much less about emotions.

You walked back over to Faramir and Eowyn, and put your hand on Faramir’s arm like he had to you just moments before. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You asked him, looking over at Eowyn. The blonde woman gave you a knowing smile, and walked off to speak with Merry, whom she had grown fond of over the war. The Steward of Gondor looked at you, still with that soft grin that you enjoyed looking at so much.

“What is it?” He asked, the grin faltering slightly. You’ve never asked him to talk privately before, and he wondered if something was wrong. But you took that away from him with your own lips, which you softly pressed against his once you were sure you had a little bit of privacy. “My lady?” He questioned, after returning it.

“It is unconventional, but it appears that I’ve fallen for you, Faramir, Steward of Gondor.”

“You have?” He asked, bewildered, but then seemed to regain his senses rather quickly. “I thought you never would. I’ve already resigned myself to growing old by myself.”

“You don’t have to,” You said, taking hold of his rough and calloused hands, giving them a squeeze. “If you will have me, I’d like to be by your side as you grow into a handsome old man.”

“While you stay the same?” He asked, his voice going softer.

“Yes,” You said with a nod. There was no point in beating around the bush - he would grow old and you would stay exactly as you were. It would be quite some time before you started to look older than you already were.

“My beautiful wife,” Faramir said, leaning in for another kiss. You granted it happily.

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