Even If I Try - To Be Hero X (Reader Insert)

But Im Really Glad

My stomach dropped. Heat rushed to my face before I could stop it. “I—what—no, I wasn’t—”

“Busted.” Nice’s laugh slipped out before he could stop himself, his tone softer than Wreck’s teasing but no less amused. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Honestly? If you want to try, just do it. Don’t hold back.”

How can he said it so casually? but, the way he looked at me is encouraging. Made it impossible to hide behind an excuse.

Wreck was the first to spring up, cracking his knuckles with that signature reckless grin. “C’mon, on your feet. Don’t think, just follow me.”

Before I could object, his hand clasped mine and pulled me upright with surprising force. My reflection in the mirror looked stiff, awkward beside him, while he stood loose and ready, energy practically humming off him.

“Don’t freeze,” he said, a laugh slipping into his tone. “Just move.”

And then he was off. His shoes thudded against the polished floor, movements sharp and bold, each step like he was daring the ground not to keep up. I had no choice but to follow when he reached for my arm and spun me out.

“Whoa—!” I stumbled, air rushing past me as the studio blurred, sunlight slanting through the tall windows in streaks of gold and orange. Wreck just laughed, loud and unbothered, tugging me back in like it was all part of the plan.

“Not bad!” he grinned, eyes sparkling. “Let’s kick it up a notch.”

Before I even caught my balance, he twisted me outward again, forceful and wild. My sneakers squeaked, my pulse skipped, and for a second, I was sure I’d lose my footing—

—until he let go.

The momentum hurled me forward, my chest tight as the floor tilted. Panic flickered, until a pair of steady hands caught me.

“Got you,” Nice’s voice slipped out, quiet but firm.

His right hand anchored mine, warm and secure, while his left pressed gently against my shoulder blade, guiding me in. His movements were the opposite of Wreck’s chaos. Fluid, precise, graceful. It wasn’t a grab, it was an invitation, a pull into his rhythm.

I exhaled shakily, realizing my balance hadn’t just been saved, it had been absorbed into something smoother. Nice shifted his weight, bringing me in closer, his steps controlled, elegant, almost like a ballet duet. His posture was upright but relaxed, his grip unshakable yet soft enough that I could feel the trust in it.

For a brief second, our eyes locked. His were steady, focused, but there was a warmth beneath them, subtle, unspoken. My chest hammered like I’d just sprinted across the city, but neither of us broke the connection.

Then, as if to ground me, Nice tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips quirking faintly. “See? You’re fine.”

I swallowed, nodding too quickly. “R-right…”

The music that wasn’t there filled the silence anyway. Every step I took felt clumsy, unrefined, yet he adjusted seamlessly, absorbing each misstep and turning it into part of the flow. Where Wreck’s style had been bold and untamed, Nice’s was patient—a dance that slowed time itself.

And all I could think about was how dangerously close we were, the heat of his palm at my back, the way our reflections in the mirror looked like something more than just practice.

Wreck’s laugh echoed behind me, loud and teasing. “You two look way too natural together.”
He leaned off the mirrored wall, smirk tugging at his lips. “Seriously, are you two secretly practicing without me?”