#I started hyperventilating after I got off ft
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ghostlychaosfoil · 3 months ago
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I JUST TOLD MY FRIEND I LIKED TMNT THAT WAS GENUINELY THE MOST SCARY YHONG I HAVE EVER DONE IM FREAKING SHAKING
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blush-and-books · 4 years ago
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always you-shaped thoughts inside my head
so, we found wonderland, the amazing fanfic by @pink-flame ended this week. as a result of my deep and sorrowful mourning, i wrote a fanfic for a fucking fanfic. yes, everyone, we have reached that point. so if you’re one of the unfortunate souls who hasn’t read it then you can start here and do not read this if you don’t want spoilers babes!!!!
anyways, i don’t want to talk about how much i cried when i wrote this. moving on. title from find u again by mark ronson ft. camila cabello and once again THANK YOU @pink-flame FOR THIS WORK, I LOVED IT, I LOVE YOU, ENJOY
A/N: the first part of this is a reimagining of a scene from the story, and the second part is more of a deleted scene. grab tissues if you’re one who cries easily. also tagging @bluefirewrites because i kept texting you while writing this
Julie doesn’t know in what timeline she thought that going to the bookstore would be a good idea. 
Even with her back flat against the wall and Luke’s book clutched identically between her hands and the palms of every other eager fan in the room, she felt like she was too close. Like this was a mistake.
She was the one who insisted they don’t look for each other. 
But here they were. Him, with a poem that crossed time with the silent, lost plea for her to come back to him; her, who chose to answer the call even if she knew she shouldn’t have. Julie should have realized that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Their paths were meant to cross in every universe. 
When he takes the stage, she doesn’t shatter. Yet. 
People are swamped beside her and Flynn on all sides, and she still feels like it’s just the two of them. Once he’s in her line of sight, it’s only him in the room, only him that exists. 
In a world where she’s jumped to and from across time, Luke may be the most real thing she’s ever known. 
The words he says as he reads and answers questions hit her ears as just a series of tones and syllables that are achingly familiar. He’s laughing through one of the book’s anecdotes and suddenly she’s back in the arcade, laughing with him at the pinball machine. He’s talking about the rush of playing their first sold-out show, and she’s back in the greenroom as he heatedly kisses her up against a wall after she spent so much time fighting for him to love her again. 
He’s reading about his parents, and she’s back on that pull-out couch that was only comfy when he was in it; listening to him whisper about their fragmented relationship. 
But then a 20-year-old pokes him about the poem. And he says he loves her -- well, not explicitly, but he says it’s about love -- and the other shoe drops. 
Tears inundate her eyes. 
“I have to go,” her voice shakes as a sob threatens to rip through her words. Flynn offers to join, but Julie needs fresh air and to be alone and to just let her tears fall onto the asphalt of an alleyway without feeling the need to explain herself. She will always be alone in these emotions, in this heartbreak, and that’s okay -- she just doesn’t want anyone to act like they get it.
So she passes her book to Flynn, urges her to get it signed, and flees out the side door. 
Right before she’s out, the 20-year-old presses on about Find Me: “Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”
The exit slams shut behind her and she doesn’t get to hear his answer. 
--
“Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”
Flynn watches intently as Luke’s eyes darken. The book feels heavy in her hands, and she feels like she is suddenly intruding on an intimate moment between Luke and Julie -- even with Julie gone. 
She didn’t always understand what happened with her best friend. But this was clearly a mind, body and soul situation. 
Luke has to clear his throat and blink rapidly before answering. “God, sorry, that one caught me a little!” The audience chuckles. “No one’s asked me that so far on this tour. That’s a good question. I probably think about it more than I should, but… I mean, first of all, they wouldn’t come and find me. I know them well enough to know that Find Me just… Went out into the universe with no expectation of a response. But if they decided too, I… I’d wanna make sure they were happy. And I’d probably thank them one more time for everything they did when I was younger. I would probably be in shock, honestly. I haven’t seen them in a long time.”
Flynn is wiping her nose with a stray tissue from her purse before she can even register that she’s started crying. 
The random people in the back row with her send her strange looks, wondering why she’s getting so emotional, but hearing Luke talk about her best friend like that… 
“Do you still love them?”
God, this person won’t give him a break!
The rockstar visibly tenses up, and the easy grin plastered on his face breaks. That’s when his manager hustles onstage and announces that they are going to start the signing; and everyone needs to start lining up. 
Flynn has to fight to get farther up in line, but it’s worth it when she reaches him.
“Hi,” he smiles, “who should I make it out to?”
The word makes her tongue feel like lead. “Julie.”
His head snaps up, and he’s fully looking at her for the first time. There are a thousand Julie’s in the world, but he knows it’s his. 
“I’m her best friend,” Flynn continues, shifting her teary eyes down to her converse because fuck Julie wasn’t kidding when she said his eyes were intense sometimes. 
“Flynn.”
“Oh... She told you-”
“Where is she? Is she here?”
She’s not even looking at him, but he sounds so desperate, and the water in her eyes swells as she glances at the exit off to her side. “Not right now. But she wanted me to get this signed for her.”
Luke’s Sharpie doesn’t move across the inside cover. In fact, he’s frozen; staring off in the distance with what Flynn is sure must be a whirlwind of emotion that he didn’t ask for. Flynn isn’t sure how to handle it -- they’re in public, and she’s minorly concerned she just sent him spiraling, and they don’t even know each other -- but she feels the need to relay a message since he’ll never get to hear it from Julie himself. 
“She…” Luke looks back up at her; eyes boring into hers in a way that could tug the truth out of anybody. As she blinks, an enthusiastic tear drops onto her cheek, and she instantly lifts her index finger under her eye to catch anything else. “Fuck, my eyeliner. Sorry. Anyways-”
The words get caught in her throat again, so she has to take another deep breath. Helping star-crossed lovers communicate when they are almost thirty years apart is more emotionally taxing than she anticipated. 
“She’s really proud of you,” Flynn finally manages with a voice squeakier and higher than she ever wants to hear it again. Another tear falls from her other eye. “She loves y- your music, and hopes that you have everything you wanted and she’s so proud of you for everything you’ve built.”
At this point, the crumpled tissue in her hand has been helping her dry her eyes because standing in front of Luke Patterson and trying to tell him that the love of his life still cares -- still watches from afar, still wants the world for him -- is making her realize the emotional turmoil that Julie must have been feeling all this time. 
How did she do it?
In front of her, Luke is rubbing his hands over his face and audibly takes a deep, sniffly breath in. Turning to the same woman who got onstage to transition the event before, he informs her: “I need to get some air.”
“Luke, where are you-”
But he’s already forcefully pushing himself back in his chair, grasping the book off of the signing table, and darting out the same exit that Julie stormed through ten minutes ago. 
When the manager turns to look at Flynn -- she bolts away and towards the front entrance. If Julie and Luke are about to meet in that alleyway, she doesn’t want to intrude. Even if she already fucked up both of their plans to never see each other again. 
--
Julie is still hyperventilating and sobbing in the alleyway when the emergency exit loudly flings open against the wall of the bookstore. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself with a childish prayer to have Teddy Luke in her arms, because at least then there would be a little piece of him to stay with her when the rest of him is gone.
She’s expecting Flynn, or an employee on their smoke break, but not-
“Luke.”
“Julie.”
A whimper leaves her lips at hearing him say her name for the first time in so long. His own eyes are glassy, and even though he’s so much older his eyes are still the same. He’s still her Luke, and that’s such a dangerous idea to touch in this timeline but she can’t let it go. 
“I’m so sorry,” she wails, trying to avoid looking at his heartbroken expression for too long. “I know, I said we can’t do this, I just-”
“Julie.”
“Did you want me to find you?”
Air puffs from his mouth in a harsh sigh as he takes a few steps closer to her; incredulously focused on the fact that she’s there, in front of him, real. “I- Of course, of course I did, Julie. I just didn’t think you’d come. But I wanted you to know I was looking.”
Her eyelids fall shut. More tears are pushed out, and she doesn’t know if she’s crying or laughing because of course Luke would look even when she told him not to. He respected her, and he respected her wishes, but he could never help himself from pushing the boundaries. 
Achingly, she’s always been so grateful for that trait in him. 
But now the two of them are awkwardly standing only a few feet away, and the urge to just feel him, assure that he’s solid in front of her is becoming all too real. 
Gravel rolls under the soles of her shoes. “I loved the book,” she confesses. “All of the stories. I mean, I’m sorry about the- About your splits-”
“I shouldn’t have even tried with them-”
“But everything else, just…”
How does she say it?
“When- Back when, in the other timeline, and you guys were ghosts… Those stories were the kind of thing you had always wanted. You were so determined to get it, and-” She sniffles. “I’m so glad you got it.”
His lips turn downward. It’s a flash of the familiarly frustrated Luke who is trying to make a tough decision, but in this case, she doesn’t know what that decision is. All she sees is the wince at her saying it was what he wanted, and how happy she was that he got it, and-
A conceited part of her contemplates if he’s about to correct her, tell her that life hasn’t been great, say that he would have rather had it differently; but he doesn’t want her to think her sacrifice was for nothing. 
Oh, God, please say he’s happy. She doesn’t think she could handle anything less. 
“It’s thanks to you,” he responds instead, gulping down any more that threatens to come up. “You saved me.” Beat. “Are- Are you happy? Is everything in this timeline okay?”
Well, in her head, not exactly. Of course she still had her dad and brother and Flynn, but Sunset Curve never stayed together, she erased Carrie’s entire existence, and everything felt just a little tilted on its axis. Julie felt like a stranger in a world of her own creation. 
She yearned for the days back in Wonderland where everyone belonged. They were a little scarred and a little broken, but they were home. Her house from the original 2020 timeline was her home. Luke was her home, and he was right in front of her; the only security blanket she has right now. 
Once again, she finds herself bursting into tears and wanting so badly to reach out to him, to give him a hug and tell him she wishes that she stayed in bed in Wonderland with him forever. She wants to jump back down the black hole and go back to 1995 when things made more sense than they did now and Luke could be hers again; and not a distant love that could never materialize in the present. 
Julie, miraculously, holds herself back. But watching Luke’s hands flinch at the sight of her crying doesn’t make things easier. 
“Please don’t cry.” His voice is a whisper but the words hit with a force that almost buckles her knees. “Julie, please, take a deep breath.”
She takes in a breath that makes her lungs expand into her ribs. “I’m happy,” she lies through her teeth as she breathes out slowly. “I’m happy. We’re happy.”
“Good.” 
Tears are running down his face. She recalls a time where it was easy for her to hold his face and swipe under his eyes with her thumbs until there were no more tears for her to kiss away. 
In unison, they clear their throats and shift their eyes. The air changes; they know they’re in a public place again, and Luke is an adult musician, and he’s with a fan. He holds his hand up, the one that has the book, and shakes it a little back and forth. 
“Flynn said you wanted this signed?”
A watery smile blooms on her face in spite of the bitter moment. “Yeah,” she nods. “Thought it could be another memento.”
To put emphasis on the idea, she lifts up onto her tiptoes and tilts her voice up. Make it a more positive moment. Don’t dwell. Stop crying. 
You can’t change things now. 
Luke pops the cap off with his teeth, and toys around with it in his mouth like it’s one of his marked-up guitar picks as he holds the book open and scribbles something (probably illegible) on the inside of the front cover. 
Then, once he’s done there, he starts flipping the pages around like he knows where every detail of the story is and marks up certain pages with… Something. She doesn’t know. After he’s made his wanted notes, he writes something out on the last page before firmly shutting it and returning it to her possession. 
“Thank you,” she smiles simply as she pulls the book from his hands and carefully assures that their hands don’t overlap. If she touches him, she falls apart. 
Luke hums in response. 
Stupidly, Julie decides that moment to open up the book and see what he wrote while he’s standing right in front of her. But she isn’t thinking about him, or looking at him -- she’s looking at the inside cover. 
We were always meant to find each other. Don’t forget that - please. 
Yours,
Luke
When a tear drops on the page, she quickly turns farther into the book because she doesn’t want her feelings to ruin his beautiful, even if messy, words. These words are all she’ll have after today. 
The few pages in the book that he made notes on were just little things that she never knew she needed to hear. 
The chapter about his first sold out stadium show? Thought of you the whole time
When he heard he was nominated for a Grammy? Wanted to call you first
The night he won his first Grammy? Almost thanked you in my speech
The last page he wrote on was the Acknowledgements page. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t that long. Luke kept a core circle of people and that was that. But below that short list, in bold, black letters:
To Julie Molina, who sacrificed everything so that I could be able to tell these stories. I wish she could have been a part of them. 
Her tears slip from her face so clear and quickly that she’s surprised her tear ducts are generating such a mass amount. The words replay in her head, in Luke’s voice, over and over. The affirmation that he wanted her with him all this time. 
But she had to go again. This had to be a one-time thing. This hurt too much for her to put either of them through it again, and besides -- now she had closure in his own writing; with her tears notarizing each word. 
“It’s time, Julie,” she mutters to herself. “It’s time.”
To say goodbye. Again. 
But Luke never answers. It’s dead silent, even though cars should be racing on the road behind them. When she looks up, Luke is frozen to the spot. Everything is, except her. 
“Time is a funny thing isn’t it? Just when you think you have a handle on it, it manages to surprise you.” 
It’s Willie, but not actually Willie. The one who was giving her the clues and trying to lead her in directions all over 1995; the one who she hasn’t seen in a really, really long time. For a moment, she doesn’t believe it. 
But he tells her that fate is in her hands. This is her choice. And despite the doubt that lingers uneasily in her chest, she can’t help but be desperate for this to be real. 
“Why not you? Who better than Julie Molina? Teenage girl with a good heart and music in her soul. Braver than most. Why not you?” 
Julie jumped across time to save her boys, and now she is willing to make the trip again if it means there’s a chance of saving them all. 
But there’s one more thing she wants to do. Just before everything either is perfect again or goes to complete shit. 
Spinning away from Willie, she takes a second glance at Luke’s still frame and softens her face into a smile. He had been looking down at her while she was reading his notes with tears in his eyes and a sad grin on his face. 
No one is looking or judging anymore -- so she stands on her toes and throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him close even if he can’t hug her back. She’s been dying to do this since she saw him in the bookstore. 
And it feels like coming home. 
“I’ll find you again,” she whispers into his ear that probably isn’t listening. “I promise.”
And without any more hesitation, she turns back to Willie with her chin up and shoulders back. 
“What do I have to do?”
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The book never finds its way back to her the way that the bear does or the way that the ring does. 
But that’s okay, because the bookstore does, and she’s with Luke when she registers that they are walking by the bookstore on their way to meet everyone at one of their favorite diners. 
By now, Luke had been told everything. She felt herself starting to fall in love with this third Luke just as she had all the others, but could never tell if he was falling back in love with her. Julie found herself -- while this timeline was infinitely better than the old one -- pining for Luke to come back to her and love her like he did in two other lifetimes. 
Their hands were brushing each other’s on the sidewalk when the bookstore sign met her eyes. 
“Jules?” 
Her feet are glued to the cement; her eyes are glued to the alleyway. Luke approaches behind her and lays a hesitant hand on her shoulder. 
“Jules, are you- Is everything okay?”
“Can we take a detour, really quick?”
And suddenly, he’s letting her lace her fingers through his and pull him through traffic -- no crosswalk in sight -- across the street to stand in front of a bookstore that has zero meaning to him whatsoever. Julie selfishly revels in his calluses rubbing her knuckles and doesn’t make a move to let go unless he will. 
He doesn’t. At least, until they hit the alleyway.
“Julie, what is this place? Why are we out here? Is this… Did I like it here, or something?”
They never spoke much about the Luke’s of other timelines. Julie quickly caught onto the fact that he got uncomfortable when she talked about guys with his name and face that he knew virtually nothing about even though he felt pressured to know everything. 
But he dealt with her when she had moments like these. She never thanked him properly for it.
“It wasn’t like that,” she shakes her head, “we were here in the other 2020. The one where you were older, and this huge Grammy-winning solo musician. The one that was a result of what I did in 1995.”
The exit door is still rusty on the hinges. The brick is the same shade of red, and-
“Okay… And? What did you guys do?”
His use of third person is a clear message. “Him and I had made this promise in ‘95 that we wouldn't find each other, right?” “Because he would be old.”
“Yeah. But he published this book and had a whole signing tour called Find Me, and Flynn told me we should go, and… Basically, I had a mental breakdown at seeing him, and then he came back here and signed the book for me, and we talked, and-”
Her voice cracks. Her eyes feel wet. 
Fuck. 
Can’t she make it one timeline without sobbing in an alleyway?
A familiar hand rubs up and down her back as she stares, firmly, at the spot where her and Luke were so vividly standing and talking and pining for the other. 
“Jules, hey, look at me.” 
Because it’s Luke -- because it’s her Luke -- she listens to him, and rotates to face him. The soft fabric of his shirt hits her cheeks as he presses his fingers into the cotton and lifts his hand to wipe the tears from her face in a gesture that tempts her to cry more. Instead, she tries to laugh it off. “God, I really need to stop having meltdowns in alleyways, huh?” He stays quiet; looking at her in a recognizable Luke way that reminds her of all of their loving times in other lives. But she can’t get her hopes up. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like when I talk about it. Sometimes I just-”
“You need to,” he nods. “I get it.”
Her feet are planted identically where they were in alternate-2020. But Luke is in a different spot, because this is a new Luke. One that’s right in front of her, lightly holding her arms; not one that’s a few feet out of reach. 
“He told me that we would always find each other.” Her voice is watered down, and quiet, but Luke is close enough to hear it. 
“Well, he was right, wasn’t he? We did it. For like, the fourth time, according to you.”
And then, she’s hit with a Luke Patterson smile. She sees it all of the time now but it never gets old because he’s young, and he’s happy, and he’s here. 
Her lips turn up to reflect it, and in a shocking turn of events: Luke instigates the hug. 
They are nearly best friends, so they’ve hugged before. But this one is different. 
His arms fold around her shoulders and tug her close and snug into his chest so that his chin is nearly resting on her hair. This leaves her able to press him close to her with her arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around his waist -- almost, dare she say it, like he was a teddy bear. 
“I never said I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her forehead. “Or thank you, for that matter.” “For what?” “I’m sorry you went through so much for me. For us. It still affects you a lot and I’m sorry you have to carry that alone.” His chest rises and falls under her cheek as he takes a deep breath, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of feeling him breathe or hearing his heartbeat. “And thank you for loving us enough to do it. You sacrificed a lot.”
She is too choked up to verbally comment -- but she squeezes him tighter, almost tempting her arms to swish through him. 
They don’t. 
And Luke continues talking after a moment of a peaceful silence. “It’s kind of cool, though, for me to think about this person I have in the universe. You know? The whole thing with us finding each other. I always have you, no matter where I am. You’ll be out there.”
“Always,” she sighs into his chest, because she can’t help it. It took them a few tries, but here they are: In the same timeline, with full family and friends and lives, in a reciprocated hug. 
“Always.” Luke repeats the word, almost feeling it out in his mouth. “Well, thanks for doing it again. Maybe let me do the work next time. You need a break.”
God, this Luke is always so good at making her laugh. Ghost-Luke was, too, but the other Luke’s and her were always swept up in emotionally-taxing situations for her to be laughing like she could when she was with this Luke. 
It was almost as if this one had practice. Maybe those other lives were kicking in.
He was her final Luke, hopefully. 
As she props her chin up on his chest, she gives him the widest grin she’s worn all day. “I would appreciate that. Just don’t take too long.” Her forehead nuzzles itself into his neck as she settles herself back into his arms; fully content to be wrapped up in him for as long as he will let her stay. “I’ll get worried.”
A soothing hand over her hair is all the confirmation she needs. 
“Don’t worry, Boss. I’ll be there.”
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illusionsofdreaming · 4 years ago
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Hey! It's nice to see you update from time to time in my timeline :)
Instead of the main trio, could you write a hc of a reader who's afraid of sea life but can't help but adore Archie and Witira regardless of that? (Reader got attatched to the pair when they read TCF, haha.)
Notes: This is such a beautiful prompt and I'm so happy to finally get requests for the whale tribe <3 <3
Ft: Archie, Witira
Archie
as one who’s always looking for trouble he does not notice your weak presence much at the beginning
but then after a while, he began to realise there’s this one person from Cale’s group who seem to watch them but always look away immediately when their eyes happen to meet
he ignores it with a snort, since it wouldn’t be the first time weak species have oogled them, he’s got bigger fish to fry
however, every time he returns from a fight (of his own making or otherwise) there’s always medicine, bandages and warm food set out for him
After a bit of asking around he figured out who did it. However whenever he tries to find you to say thanks (he may be a brute but he’s got manners) you run the other direction
the flip-flopping treatment gets annoying after a while so he corners you one day “What’s your deal? You hate us or something? Cut it with the fake sympathy, we don’t need your pity.”
and you kinda spill - you admire the whale tribe but you’re also very squeamish about sea life, you can’t stand the sliminess or the smell. Really! you don’t hate them but-
“Seriously?! Thats all?” he interrupts your rambling in exasperation and grabs your hand to place it on his arm. “See? There’s no scales, we’re the same as you fickle two-legged humans in this form.” 
You were about to scream from shock until your mind processed his words and hey, he’s right. There’s no fishy smell either
“Of course not,” he snorts and you blush in embarrassment when you realise you said that out loud. “We’re cleaner than you humans.” He grumbles and walks away shaking his head
Afterwards, you’re a lot more at ease around them but definitely still shy
He tells you its not necessary to bring him bandages and medicines but you still worry regardless and after a while, he just lets you do as you please, so long as you’re not sneaking in and out like some kind of thief
Witira
Witira is known to be a whale with a sympathetic heart, especially so towards those who are weaker
she noticed your pale features and clammy pallor from the corner of her eyes and realised that something was wrong, but couldn’t call it out because they were currently in an important diplomatic discussion
when a break was called, she noted how you had rushed out the room and after a moment’s debate, she excused herself from the conversation and went to look for you
she found your hunched over form over the balcony and alerted you gently of her approach
“Is something the matter?”
it shocked her when you suddenly started hyperventilating but she was quick to act, telling a passing servant to get help while she tried her best to help you calm down
the doctor arrived quickly and guided you to slow your breathing and eventually you were calm enough to explain that you have a phobia of sea life
Witira listened and took this in quietly. Didn’t laugh or frown at your weakness. She could sense your frustration and hatred of yourself for not being able to contain the anxiety attack and she was not going to blame you for something that you can’t help.
Eventually, she crouches and asks if she could approach you. With your permission she kneels in front of you and you gasped and nearly bolted up in surprise, the future Queen of Whales shouldn’t have to kneel to you but she waved it off and implores you to sit down and keep calm
“I understand that phobias aren’t something one can control and know your reactions are not because of any prejudice against my species either. Since we’ll be working together soon, if there’s anything I can do to help make things easier for you, please tell me.” she smiles, and for a moment you forgot about your fears, blinded you were by her beauty.
“Surely the whales you’re thinking of don’t have these?” she lifts her hand in front of your eyes, spreading fingers apart and wiggles them
It tempts a small chuckle from you and a little of the tension ebbs away
you were a bit reluctant at first - partly because you didn’t want to be a burden to them and partly because some part of you still blames yourself for freaking out
but Witira is understanding and eventually convinces you that these things are better tackled together than alone
slowly and with a lot of patience, the two of you found your triggers and developed ways to work around them
eventually, you've got a good enough grasp on your anxiety that you could work side by side by the whale tribe without breaking out in cold sweat and hold proper conversations without needing to bolt
you nearly fainted when you first saw her transformed whale form - but that’s a story for another day
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pandajaye · 3 years ago
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Todoroki Family Ties (Part 9)
Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki, Preteen!Fuyumi, Child!Natsuo
Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia
Warnings: pregnancy, hospital, hysteria, child abuse, Aquaphobia, upset child, abusive family, neglect
“Enji, it’s okay. Please try to calm down. Everything is going to be fine.” Ivy comforted her husband, putting a hand on his leg in an attempt to keep it from bouncing so much. “I know, I know. Just a little nervous, that’s all.” He sighed, looking down at his hands while he rubbed his palms. They were the only ones in the room right now. It was cold and white everywhere apart from the delightful little flower clusters. The atmosphere was mostly quiet except for the tapping of keyboards and damp sounds of phones ringing in some of the offices.
“I mean…. what if it’s true? How could I be so careless? I should’ve been thinking clearly. I should’ve thought more about you. Things were just finally going so right and I was so distracted by excitement. So many good things were falling in to place. It’s…. It’s all my fault that we’re here today.” He brought her hand up from his thigh and kissed her knuckles. “Please, forgive me.” All she could do was smile at how nervous he was. “Forgive you for what, baby? Nothing bad has happened. Being here is a big part of the journey. It’s where our path is decided for us. I’m excited. You should be, too.”
Enji wrapped his arms around her with a tight squeeze. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She always did know how to make the best of a situation that seemed frightening. Maybe it was the way of words. Maybe it was the sweet and calm voice that did it for him. Whatever it was, he was happy to be able to access it. Having her next to him was going to make this move a lot smoother, and he couldn’t ask for anything better right now.
Their moment of peace was interrupted by a nurse dressed in lovely pink scrubs. “Todoroki?” Her voice was gentle and nice as well as her smile while she patiently waited for the two to stand and follow her. On the way to their room, Ivy glanced into the rooms they passed. In one, a couple was finding out some good news. They looked excited. In another, a woman seemed to be having a good check up. And the last one was different than the other two. A woman leaned against her sad husband as she cried. The doctor also had a sad and sympathetic look on her face. Those sure were some interesting situations to witness. Which one would represent her and Enji’s?
“This room right here. Doctor Akari will be right with you.” The two parties bowed to each other before she left and they entered the room. Enji looked around the room and sighed. It was so weird to be here again. The rooms had changed a bit since the last time he was on this same floor seven years ago. ‘Wow. Seven. I’m getting old.’ He was quickly brought back to reality by Ivy. “I’m really glad we’re here today. This is good.” Her smile brought so much ease to him. How lucky is he to have someone like her.
A quiet knock on the door gathered their attention. In walked an older woman. Her hair was still a dark brown so she couldn’t have been that much older but you could see some of the age in her kind face. There was a bit of height difference between them, her being taller than Ivy, shorter than Enji of course. She carefully closed the door behind her before setting her chart on the table and introducing herself. “I’m Dr. Akari, nice to meet you today, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki.” She shook their hands and continued. “Amazing, I never thought I’d be meeting, let alone working for the number two hero. I guess dreams do come true.” Enji blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. Always nice to meet a fan.”
“So. We’re here for a verification today, correct? How are you feeling? Mrs. Todoroki, is this your first?” Ivy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I-I’ve really never been in any type of situation like this before. I’m excited and kinda nervous. Sorry.” Dr. Akari held Ivy’s hands in her own. “Sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize. Being nervous is apart of this. A big part. That’s not to say that it’ll be a bad experience. It is what you make it. And I have so much faith that this is going to be an amazing and beautiful new part of your life. You’re going to be great at this.” Her smile was warm and reassuring. Maybe everything really will be okay. “Should we get this thing started?” Ivy looked at Enji and back at Dr. Akari with a grin. “Let’s do it.”
The test and results took no time at all to come back to them. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki. You’re having a baby.” Excitement quickly grew on Ivy’s face, brown eyes big and full of tears when she looked at Enji who hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head. “Wonderful news! Wonderful! Wonderful!” He was so energetic and happy like a child himself. The fifth child and he’s still taken aback as if it’s his first. Ivy stayed a little calmer herself. “I’m so happy. This is everything I’ve ever wanted…. A dream come true.” The doctor hugged Ivy when Enji finally pulled away. “I’m so happy for you two. You have my full adoration. I know you’re going to be an amazing mother. Before you know it, you’ll have a quirky and spontaneous bundle of joy in your arms.” Ivy froze.
‘….Quirky?’
Enji thanked the doctor a few more times before leaving and while they walked to the car, he noticed something was off about Ivy. She kept her gaze towards the ground and hadn’t said a word since leaving the doctor’s office. After a short walk they arrived at the car, Ivy got in the passenger seat and patiently waited for Enji to get in and close his door. As soon as the car door shut, Ivy broke down hysterically… “FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING! FUCK!” Honestly, it scared him a bit. She was fine a few minutes ago and now she’s upset? “IVY? WHAT’S WRONG?” She started hyperventilating, forcing him to pull Ivy into his lap and hold her. “Breathe! Breathe. Slow down. In….. Out….” It took a minute before she could match his breathing. Eventually, they were in sync and she began to calm down and got back into the passenger seat.
“Alright. What in the hell was that?” He didn’t mean to sound irritated, he was just genuinely confused about what just manifested. “I-I’m sorry but…. I-I can’t do this. I-I-I can’t be a mom.” Tears were still falling but she tried to wipe them away as fast as they came. “Wha…. What do you mean?” His brows were furrowed and his face contorted. “Enji…. I-I was so excited at first. And, I still am in some ways…. But…. what happens when…. w-when we have this child…. and they don’t have a quirk because of me? I wasn’t even thinking about it until Dr. Akari said the word quirky and all of a sudden it hit me. My child is going to be weak because of me…. They’re going to hate me. I know you want a strong child with a strong quirk but I-…. I-I can’t give you that.”
To be honest, he hadn’t thought of it either. But that was the old him anyways. He’s grown since then. Quirks aren’t everything to him anymore. Just her. Just his family. No matter what skills they had or didn’t have. He loves them in every aspect. “Ivy…. I don’t need you to give me that. I want you to be happy and healthy. I want to have this child with you no matter what happens. As long as you’re both okay, that’s what’s important. I know how I used to be. And I’m still sorry and trying to atone for it. I’m learning and growing every day because of you. I appreciate and love you so much.” His large hand held her cheek as he searched her eyes for a sign that she understood him.
A wave of safety washed over her as she leaned into his hand. So much calm after one random storm. “You’re right. You are learning. You have grown. And I am beyond proud of you. I’m sorry for my outburst. It wasn’t all about you. Being quirkless has always been a problem for me. Way before me and you. You’ve improved in ways that…. he never did.” Her gaze shifted to her feet when thoughts and feelings she had long ago returned. “Who?” When her gaze came back her eyes were brimming with tears of numb pain.��My dad….”
From a very young age, Ivy was victim to some of the most impactful abuse that young girls have suffered for centuries. Familial. Being the outcast, the one child that didn’t make the cut. Worked hard and reprimanded for occurrences out of her power. Her power. The center of everything and the reason for her suffering. More commonly known as a quirk, her ability should have been water manipulation. It ran in her family. They’ve always been connected to it all. Oceans, lakes, rain, dew, snow. A gene for telekinesis brought in from one of her great great grandparents but no one remembers which one.
“LET’S GO, LET’S GO, LET’S GO!” Nami James Emaraki, Ivy’s father, blew hard into his whistle. It’s not that common for a ten-year old to have to do burpees and laps on a Saturday morning. Especially since she’s not training for anything. “YOU SLACK AND I SWEAR ITS ANOTHER TEN LAPS!! YOU ALREADY MISSED BREAKFAST SINCE YOU WANNA SLEEP IN, I’M PERFECTLY FINE WITH YOU MISSING LUNCH CAUSE I’LL STILL EAT BUT YOU WON’T!!!!” He wasn’t kidding either. That threat wasn’t the least bit empty.
“I-” Her foot slipped and caused her to face plant. She lifted her head and a stream of blood ran from her nose. “OW! UGH! H-Help, please!” Rolling his eyes, he stomped over to her, grabbing a fist full of her hair. “Sure, I’ll help you. Usually salt water helps with things like that. Let’s get you a lot of salt water.” He looked at the pool and smiled. “How about 10 ft?” Panic flooded her entire body so quickly it almost made her dizzy. Or maybe that was from the quick face plant and loss of blood.
“N-No! Please!” Ignoring her, he began dragging her to the deep end of their pool. “I’m so sorry, I can keep going! I can keep going! Daddy I can keep going!” She couldn’t help but cry and scream for forgiveness because he always had such a terrible punishment for her. The closer they got the more she struggled. “DADDY PLEASE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE NO! NO-” He tossed her in with a grunt and picked up his stopwatch. “Hurry up. You don’t wanna drown, use your quirk to get out!”
But that was the issue. Ivy was quirkless. It never showed up when it was supposed to. They hoped she was a late bloomer but it wasn’t looking very hopeful. Her father and uncle did everything they can to bring it out of her. They were so close they moved into two joint houses for each of their families, between the two homes, a facility with a large indoor pool that they used to coach swimming and have opened for water sports and activities. Every child in their family has used this pool to get better at their quirks. But Ivy was the only one forced into fearing it, unlike her siblings and cousins.
The eldest children were Ivy’s older twin brother and sister who were six years older than her, as well as a male cousin four years older than her. They were taught everything with care and detail. How to swim, how to make waves, etc. Next, her cousin that was but a few months older than her. He also experienced the life of being the middle child like her. Ivy was born next. Treated like all the other kids until she reached the age where quirks usually had already appeared in their family.
Four. When the family pediatrician attempted to explain that her quirk would never come in due to an extra joint in her foot, that of which the absence of would determine if the power would ever come in. Her father was so upset when they got home, he grabbed her by the ankles and dunked her in the water a few times before dropping her in the 5 feet. Her mother stood and watched as paramedics revived Ivy, pretending very well to be concerned.
Yet, here he is now. Watching her sink as she loses oxygen. Destined to be a corpse at the bottom of the pool. But just before tragedy could wrap her up in its claws, her father washed her back onto the side of the pool with a wave. There she laid in a puddle, lungs full of water. “So damn dramatic.” Unrightfully annoyed, he preformed mouth to mouth and saved her, smacking her when she accidentally spit up water in his face. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a daughter. But just you wait, you’ll be a hero soon enough. And you’re gonna be supporting your family after we’ve been so supportive of you. Get your ass up and come inside when you’re through acting like something wrong with you.”
Nami didn’t even look back after he started walking way. He didn’t care if she ever got up. To him, she has two options in life. Become a top pro-hero. Or die. And some days, she wished he wouldn’t save her. Some days she wanted to stay at the bottom of that pool knowing she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Ivy couldn’t help but wonder, what’s the point of living if your entire family is already disappointed in you?
During lunch, her mother Eimi asked her about today’s training. “How did it go today, Ivy?” She smiled, looking between her and her father. Ivy didn’t want to answer so she kept her mouth shut. “Ivy, your mama is talking to you. Answer her.” His fist slammed down on the table. The back of her throat burned from swallowing her need to cry. “Ivy? Answer her, girl, can you not hear?!” She flinched at him raising his voice. With a quiet sigh, Ivy spoke, carefully trying not to let her voice crack. “It w-was fine, mommy. But….” She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to speak up.
“B-BUT DADDY TRIED TO KILL MEEEEE!!” Cries broke out of her throat. “CONTROL YOUR DAMN VOLUME RIGHT NOW!” He tried to grab her arm but she ducked out of the way. “MAMA I FELL AND HURT MY FACE AND MY NOSE WAS BLEEDING AND HE THREW ME IN THE POOL AND ALMOST LET ME DROOOOOOWN!!!!” Tears dripped from her chin as she trembled and sobbed. Eimi just looked at Nami and shrugged. “Well, Ivy. Maybe if you stopped pretending your quirk isn’t there, you could have saved yourself. So I don’t want to hear it.” Ivy was horrified and offended by every word out of her mother’s mouth. “WHAT? BUT MOMMY-” “THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO YOUR ROOM!” Before she could run, he grabbed her and carried her to her room as she struggled. “I HATE IT HERE! I HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT!!” Once the door slammed close, she hugged one of her stuffed animals tight and cried. And cried. And cried. Until she cried herself to sleep.
Ivy had ever only known Hell on Earth. Her siblings before her were treated with respect. Even her baby brother and even younger baby sister got to see the best from their parents. Ivy was the one that they wanted to depend on. Their goals for her were to make her one of the most famous Pro-Heroes ever. Then use her paycheck to further their lives. She would put them on the map and be their little bank. But the older she got, the more she fought back. Until finally they realized she’d never be able to help them anyways.
Ivy was shunned and kicked out of her home. Forced to learn the way of the world. She made her way through three nice jobs and even college. Out of all the smoke and fire, she emerged through her trials and tribulations and began working at Endeavor’s agency. Her hardships didn’t end there but shortly after, everything started to work out for her.
Her past was filled with evil but it never influenced her to become a bad person even after never getting her quirk. She realized that quirks never really mattered. It was the love that she never received. Love that she’ll be giving to this baby. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her child ever had to go through what she went through.
The world outside was so beautiful as they drove home. She looked at Enji and smiled. He sparkled in the sunlight. Those beautiful blue eyes focusing on the road while he held her hand up and kissed it. “You’re gonna be okay, Ivy. I love you so much. You’re going to be a great mom. And, I hope i can be a great father. On the fifth try.” The reassurance made her grin. “Thank you, Enji. Thank you.”
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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago
Text
Merry Crisis (a.i)
Pairing: Ashton Irwin (ft.5SOS) X Fem!reader (Dad!Ash)
Summary: Shopping is always stressful, but when you have a baby on the way... it can become a chaos, especially when you have 3 crazy best friends with you.
Warnings: Language. Fluff and some crackhead moments. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mentions of Birth. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)
Word count: 4.5 k
Author’s note: Hello! This is my first Holiday fic with 5SOS and it’s Ashton’s turn to shine (even tho each boy gets their moment) This was so fun to write, I did it on my sociology class (so maybe it’s not that perfect) and I love it very much and I hope you do too! Reblogs, feedback and comments are always welcome and encouraged! Support your writers! ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋❤️
My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?
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Twas the evening before Christmas, the streets were filled with Christmas lights and the chill air of Los Angeles made everything cozier as families gathered around the fireplace and enjoyed the most peaceful of times…
This statement does not apply to our favorite band, tho.
Our four Australians were not enjoying a cup of hot cocoa with their families as they were supposed to, oh no. They were doing the most dreadful thing a person could think of doing the night before dear Santa came to visit: They were Christmas shopping.
In their defense - or at least Calum’s, Michael’s and Luke’s defense, this was all Ashton’s fault for he was the one that dragged them to the crowded mall in the middle of one of the busiest days of the year. And, in Ashton’s defense, it was not his fault that the store had called him in the middle of a recording session to tell him that they finally had the only thing he wanted for Christmas: A music box.
He just had to get it before everyone else.
“Why did we come all over here for a little music box?” Asked Michael as they stood at the end of the line for the register. How could they only have one register open? It’s Christmas for fucks sake! but then again, it’s Christmas for fucks sake, so they know that people should be with their families instead of working a poorly paid job.
“It was the last one!” Ashton claimed, admiring the little circular box in his hand “It’s a limited edition and I just had to get it for Y/N and for the baby”
His eyes lit up when your name escaped his lips. Not even a year ago did he officially make you his wife, but now you were carrying his child! People might think it was rushed, but for Ashton it was the complete opposite. He had his life made when he met you, knowing that he will marry you as soon as he could… he had to wait a few more years to do that, but he was extremely happy, more so now that your little family was expanding. He loved you and your child with all his heart, and the boys all knew that so they can't even be mad about it, even if he kidnapped them to the mall with the promise of some cinnabuns later.
“She had one of these when she was little” Ashton continued as he admired the little hand painted details of the box “It always played a little lullaby to help her sleep. But it broke a few years ago and she always complained about not having one like this for her kids one day… But now she will!” The black haired man smiled.
“Shit, that’s actually pretty sweet” Michael commented “Okay, you’re forgiven”
“I don’t know if I want to hug you for being the perfect husband, or to kick you in the balls for being the perfect husband and making the rest of us feel bad” Luke chuckled.
The four boys laughed at the comment and started talking about their plans for the Holidays as they waited for the line to move. The problem was, it has been fifteen minutes and the line has only moved once.
“How long is this line anyway?” Calum said, peeking over the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed at least thirty more people waiting in front of them “Shit, this is going to take a while. That man has at least twenty plushies and eleven race cars”
“I don’t know how people could leave this kind of stuff for the last minute” Ashton huffed, earning a death glare from each of his friends “This one is different, tho! It was the last one!”
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for that!” Someone said behind Luke, making him jump at the sudden surprise.
“What the-” Luke said, placing a hand over his heart.
It was a short man in a trench coat who pointed to the music box in Ashton’s hand.
Ashton furrowed his eyebrows and said to the man “Uh, not a chance mate”
“Two hundred?”
“Nope”
“Five hundred?” The man would just not cave and Ashton was getting fed up with it, luckily Calum noticed and hurried to say something before his friend started a scene.
“Hey, mr. Devito wannabe. He said no, so just go bother someone else. Okay?”
The man scoffed and turned his face to the side, stating that he was offended. The four Australians rolled their eyes and turned their backs to him once again.
Another fifteen minutes passed and the line barely moved. The guys were not talking anymore, running out of things to say past the twenty minute mark. Each of them were bored out of their minds, well all but Ashton at least, he was still gleaming with pride as he looked at the music box and created scenarios in his head and thought about the joy that would be mirrored in your eyes once you open it tomorrow morning.
After a few more minutes of silence, Luke was the first one to break it “I think I’m just gonna get a coffee and wait in the car. These boots are killing me today” He looked at Ashton as if to ask permission, but the dark haired man just shrugged and nodded, asking him to buy one for him as well and to leave it in the car.
Michael then added “Yeah, I think I’m gonna go and check the electronics this store has. I think I saw a new camera that would be perfect for my streams”
And that only left Calum and Ashton waiting in line. But about five seconds later, Calum opened his mouth.
“Yes, you can go explore, too” Ashton said with a sigh before Calum even got a chance to ask.
“Cool” The curly man said, patting Ashton on the back before muttering a ‘I’ll be right back’ Leaving him alone with the music box.
Ashton didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of enjoyed this time alone. It gave him plenty of opportunities to imagine a new future for the both of you next to your little baby boy or girl. He catched a glimpse of families walking around the mall, buying gifts or eating a snack as they smiled at each other. He couldn’t wait for that to be his new normal.
He remembered the time when you told him you were pregnant. You gifted him a special baby bodysuit that said “My daddy is the best drummer in the world and there is nothing you can do about it” next to your positive pregnancy test. Ashton always wanted to start a family, especially if it was with you, but he never expected it to be so soon. Yet, once he held the test in his trembling hands, he knew that this was the best thing it could’ve happened to him. He remembers how tearful he got the second his brain processes the information, quickly running up to you and pressing an earth shattering kiss to your lips, promising you and your baby that he would be the best father in the world.
And, as he held the little object in his hand, he already thought he was doing a pretty good job. He smiled to himself and thought about calling you. Not only did he want to hear your voice at this moment, but also because he wanted to check up on you. You were having tea with your best friend at the moment, but the pregnancy hormones were hitting pretty hard lately and he wanted to make sure you were doing alright.
But as soon as he got his phone out of his pocket, your name started glowing on the screen.
“Baby! I was just about to call you” Ashton said with a smile, loving this little coincidence.
“Ashton, is coming!” You said in an alarming tone. Ashton, however, did not understand what you meant.
“Yeah? I’m coming home soon, why are-?”
“No!” You cut him off “The baby, Ash! The baby is coming!”
Ashton laughed “Ha, ha very funny Y/N. But the baby isn’t due until three weeks from now”
“ASHTON FLETCHER IRWIN” You yelled through the phone, making Ashton pull away from the phone for a second “MY WATER BROKE AND THE BABY IS COMING NOW. SO GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOSPITAL BEFORE I-” A sharp pain ran through you as you were experiencing the contractions. Ashton could hear your distant groan and immediately went pale.
The baby was coming and he wasn’t ready.
“Ash, hello?” Your friend’s calm voice came from the other end “I’m gonna take Y/N to the hospital right now. I need you to meet us there, okay?”
“Fuck, okay. I’m on my way” He rushed to say before he ended the call.
“Hey, dude. What’s going-?” Michael said as he approached the black haired man who looked like he might throw up.
“The baby’s coming!” He said, trying to concentrate on his breathing before he hyperventilates.
“What?!”
“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum came next, worried about his friends’ weird behavior.
“THE BABY IS COMING”
Michael.
The guitarist started wandering the electronics and new technologies hall. He was secretly glad he got away from waiting in line for what it looked like another hour, but at the same time he was glad he decided to accompany Ashton in his little quest.
The moment he knew you were pregnant he set himself to be the best uncle that little kid will have. He already knew that you and Ashton were going to be great parents, with the way in which you love each other it was hard to think otherwise. Michael was always up for anything you guys wanted to do for each other, from secret dates or help you sneak out after a concert, or even to plan gifts! He always took pride to know that he was part of your epic love story, even if it was with just a little favor.
Michael stepped into the videogame aisle like he usually does, but this time he went directly to the kid’s section, knowing that eventually your baby will want to play videogames with uncle Mikey and he will have to be ready with the most family friendly games he could find.
He started grabbing a few of them and reading the little summaries they had on the back, eventually deciding that he did not understand anything about children’s games and that he might have to ask around in order to find the best ones.
He went back to the electronics aisle and something caught his attention.
“Is that a real megaphone?” He asked one of the workers there “I haven’t seen one since 2014” He said, remembering the last time the boys ever let him play with one of those in the Good Girls video.
“Yeah! It’s the new model” Said the teenage boy that was in charge of that seccion that day “Wanna try it out?”
“Before that, can I go and show it to my mates? I won’t be gone for long, they are just down the checkout line”
“Sure!” The young man smiled and gave him the megaphone.
Michael had a big smile on his face as he started walking towards Ashton to show him what he found. But his smile dropped the minute he saw Ashton’s face grew a thousand times paler.
He carefully walked up to him and asked “Hey, dude. What 's going-?”
“The baby’s coming!” Ashton said, trying to catch his breath.
“What?!”
Calum.
He hated the mall. He really did. There were always too many people, too much noise and the prices were always exaggerated. But he knew that he was here today for a good cause. Calum was not going to let his best mate down.
Ever since you came into Ashton’s life - and the boys’ life for that matter - he could tell that you were special. Not only because of the way Ashton talked about you all the damn time, but because of your energy, your passion, your kindness and obviously your undenying love for the drummer.
Calum was always the protective friend, always keeping his guard up for any new companion they boys might have. But with you it was different. The first time you two met was the day you instantly became best friends. He knew he could trust you to keep Ashton’s heart safe, and he knew that if Ashton ever broke your heart that he was going to have to kick his ass for being that stupid. Luckily, he wasn’t.
He was the first person (after Ashton, of course) to know about your pregnancy. He swore to himself that he would not let anything happen to his future godson/goddaughter. That baby was going to be the perfect mixture of his best friends, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from loving them just as much as he loves all of you. He even got them toys so they could play with Duke when they’re older! Needless to say that he was very, very excited.
As he wandered through the halls of the store he noticed a commotion next to the toys section.
A line of kids accompanied by their parents awaited in front of a huge chair decorated with fake snow and candy canes. Santa Claus was going to be there.
“Oh my god” A female voice said behind him “You are Calum Hood!”
Calum turned around and was faced with a young girl dressed as an elf looking at him like he hung the moon or something.
“That I am” He said with a smile “Hello, nice to meet you!”
“M-my name’s Lizza” The girl blushed “I’m a huge fan! Is it okay if- I mean, could I get a picture? Please?”
Calum smiled “Sure!”
Lizza squealed “Omg, okay. But, can we do it over there? The kids aren’t supposed to see me yet” She said, pointing to a corner with a curtain and some costumes, presumably Santa’s and his elves'.
Calum nodded and followed the girl, catching a glimpse of the Santa Claus outfit “Do you think I can wear that for the picture?” He asked. Honestly, he just wanted to know how it would feel like to dress up as Santa, knowing he would one day have to do it for your child.
“Of course!” The girl said, taking her phone from her purse and giving it to another elf so he could take the picture.
Once the picture was done, he started to strip off the big red coat, the white beard and the hat when suddenly he had an idea “Is it okay if I borrow this for a while? Maybe five minutes? I wanna prank some friends that are at the check out”
“Uhh”
“I’ll give it back, I promise,” He said with a smile.
Lizza sighed “Sure! We have another one for emergencies”
“Cool, thanks Lizza”
Calum walked away with the fake beard, the warm coat and the hat, feeling cheeky as he approached the line.
“What?!” He heard Michael yell. And although Michael always yells, this one seemed important as his voice sounded concerned.
“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum said, approaching his friends with a very confused face. But before he could even finish the question, Ashton looked at him with fear in his eyes.
“THE BABY IS COMING”
Ashton.
This was not good. Not good at all. His wife is at the hospital about to give birth and he is still in the line of the fucking mall.
“Oh shit!” Calum said, looking frantically over the line that was still too long “OH SHIT”
“Okay calm dow- Is that a Santa costume?” Michael asked.
“Calm down?!” Calum said, panicking “My best friend is having a baby and you tell me to CALM DOWN?!”
“I’m having a baby…” Ashton said in a whisper, not really paying attention to what was going on around him “I’m having a baby”
“Not you!” Said Calum “Well... also you but I meant Y/N! She’s the one pushing it mate” But Ashton did not listen.
His whole world paused in that moment. Too many thoughts were running through his head as he tried to formulate a plan, any plan that would get him the quickest to you.
He thought he was doing a good job, he thought that he was going to be the best dad ever and now he was going to miss the birth of his first child because the line wasn’t fucking moving.
“Ash?” Michael called, but he wasn’t listening.
How could he screw this up so early in the game? Your baby wasn’t even born yet but he swore he could already feel their disappointment.
“Ash..”
And you! How could you ever forgive him?! You will surely file for divorce once the baby is born.
“Ashton!”
“What?!” He yelled, looking at Michael who was shaking him by the shoulders.
“Fucking breathe man! You almost turn purple there”
Michael started breathing at an even pace, motioning Ashton to breathe with him and so he did “It’s going to be okay, don’t worry about it”
“How can you say that?!” Ashton almost cried “I’m not even a dad yet and I’m already screwing up! Who doesn’t show up to the birth of his child?”
Michael rolled his eyes, knowing his friend was just talking out of fear than out of reason, and shook him by the shoulders again “Listen to me, you are already a great dad! You were a dad even before Y/N got pregnant and you are not going to miss the birth of my nephew or niece. I won’t allow it. But first I need you to calm the fuck down!”
Ashton looked at Michael and swallowed the lump in his throat “What if I’m not ready? What if we’re not ready?”
Michael chuckled “You asked me the same question when you were about to walk down the aisle a year ago. You were ready even before you knew you were and this is not different”
But before Ashton could say something, Calum walked up to them again.
“There are fourteen people ahead of us” Said Calum, who had just run up to the start of the line “If we asked them to move, we might get there in time”
“Or maybe you could leave the music box to me…” The man with the weird vibe intervened.
“Fuck off DeVito!” The three Australians yelled.
Suddenly, a lightbulb got turned on on Michael’s head “I got an idea!”
A panicked Calum dressed as Santa and a very panicked Ashton watched as Michael ran out of the store for a second, only to come back pushing a Target cart “Get in!” He said jumping in the cart and motioning to Ashton to follow him.
Ashton jumped inside without asking any questions, not even when Calum started pushing the car or when Michael turned on his… was that a megaphone?!
“Attention ladies and gentlemen” Michael said through the megaphone, making every single person turn their heads towards them, as if two large Australians standing inside of a shopping cart being pushed by a very tattooed Santa Claus wasn’t stiking enough “We have a man that’s going to become a father at any moment now while his wife is in the hospital! Please let us through!”
Ashton does not know if it was the weird scene they caused, his desperate face or Christmas magic that made everyone on the line take a step back as Calum pushed them through the checkout.
Once they got there, the cashier took his money, too shocked to say anything else as Ashton yelled “Keep the change!” As they rushed through the doors and towards the parking lot with Calum pushing the cart at a great speed with all of his energy as all the other customers looked at them and wondered what the hell was going on.
“Mommy?” A confused random kid asked “Why was Santa pushing those men on the cart?”
Luke.
His favorite Christmas playlist was playing in the car. He loved the holidays, but he hated Christmas shopping with his life. So he was very thankful that Ashton could understand this and let him wait in the car.
As he hummed through the song “His Favorite Christmas Story” he thought about the gift he got to your little unborn baby. As soon as he found out you were pregnant, he knew he had to spoil that kid rotten. Well, not that he knew he had to, but he wanted to. You and Ashton were the best people he has ever met, and he knew your little baby was not going to be different, so what’s wrong with giving that child the world they deserve?
A few months ago he talked to a friend of his that made customized presents made of crochet, so he asked if they could make a baby mobile to put over the crib. He also made sure to ask that the animals that were to adorn the mobile were your’s and Ashton’s favorites, and also throwing a little kangaroo in honor of their father’s homeland and a little penguin in honor of their future favorite uncle.
He smiled to himself as he thought he couldn’t wait to meet the little pal and how he couldn’t wait to start a family of his own. But his daydreaming got cut short when he heard a commotion coming from the mall’s doors.
Sirens were ringing and a lot of people stood and watched at whatever was causing the disturbance. He even had to take a double look because he thought he just saw Calum dressed as Santa Claus pushing a shopping cart with Ashton and Michael inside, the latter speaking with a megaphone in his hand. And indeed that is what he saw.
“LUKE START THE CAR” Michael yelled from his megaphone. And Luke, being the smart man that he is, did not ask questions as he did just that.
Soon enough, Calum Santa Claus was jumping inside of the car, followed by Michael and Ashton, who just sat in the front seat.
“What is-?” Luke tried to ask, but his three friends were quicker as they all said at the same time:
“The baby is coming!” “We needed to get the music box” “The line was too fucking long”
“Hurry up, dude!” Calum said, giving Luke a pat on his shoulder as he stared at them, very confused.
“Why didn’t you just leave the music box with one of them?” He said, motioning to his friends in the back “I could’ve come back for them after I dropped you off…”
The three Australians all looked at eachother like they were the most stupid people on the planet. Until Micahel turned on the megaphone again and said with a defeated voice: “Just drive”
The ride to the hospital was silent as Luke drove through the streets of LA at full speed. Michael even turned on the siren of the megaphone to make way across the traffic jam. How the hell they didn’t end up in jail? A Christmas miracle if you ask me.
Once they got there, Ashton was the first one to jump off the car, followed by his best friends as they ran through the hospital’s floors.
“Irwin!” He said, once they got to the maternity wing “Y/N Irwin! My Wife-”
Luke followed, almost knocking down Ashton as his boots slipped on the floor “His wife!” He said, almost out of breath.
“His baby!” Calum added, almost falling to the floor as he tripped over his foot.
And last but not least came a small “Help?” From Michael who was completely out of breath as he sat on one of the chairs in the waiting room.
The nurse, apparently not taken aback at the sudden outburst of three grown man and a Santa Claus in her waiting room, just smiled at Ashton and said: “Over here, Mr. Irwin. You are just in time, she just started dilating…”
But Ashton didn’t hear much as he walked behind her, anxious to see you and see your baby. Breathing heavily as he tried to calm his nerves before he got to your room. He gave one last look to his friends and smiled at them.
“You can do it man!” Michael said, giving him the thumbs up.
“You go Poppa!” Luke cheered.
“We will be here!” Calum said, feeling tears of pride gather up in his eyes as he watched Ashton turn into another hallway, ready to become the dad he always knew he could be.
“Did you actually steal a Santa costume?” Michael said as the other two sat down next to him.
“And you stole a cart and a megaphone so shut up”
A new family.
You watched with tired eyes as your husband held your baby girl in his arms.
“She is so tiny…” He said with fresh happy tears falling rolling down his cheeks. Ashton started crying as soon as he saw her little face and heard his heart shattering cry.
You almost thought that he wasn’t going to make it in time, afraid that you were going to have to get through the birth of your child all alone. But he came through the doors just in time and he did not let go of your hand for a second, even when you knew you were crushing it as you pushed.
“I love you so much” He said, just as he’s been saying for the past hours since he got here “I love you so much and I love her so much I- Thank you”
“Why are you thanking me, love?”
“For giving me the best gift of all” Ashton said as he laid next to you with your daughter curled up on his chest “You gave me the family I always dreamed of. I could never thank you enough for it”
He slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours, showing you all the love that he could in only one simple kiss.
“Well, it’s not like you didn’t help on making this, you know?” You teased, making him chuckle “I should be thanking you, Ash.You and her are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I love you”
“I love you” He said, capturing your lips in another kiss as you let the music box play in the background, filling the room with the notes of your favorite lullaby.
“Should I let the boys in?” He asked as he passed your daughter back to you. You just nodded, not wanting to let your friends wait a second longer to meet your baby. “Oh, and just a heads up, Calum is dressed as Santa Claus and we might never be allowed on the mall again”
You laughed “I can’t wait to hear that story”
Ashton smiled as he got out of the room and walked towards where the boys were sitting. Once they saw him walk up to them, they immediately got up, all of them smiling proudly at the new - official, father of the band.
“Boys, come and meet our baby girl: Jane Elizabeth Irwin”
Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232
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ddaenghoney · 3 years ago
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Series: Flora
Part 24
masterlist link in blog description
After spending more than a decade establishing a career as an acclaimed actress, you decide to go on a sudden hiatus while also discreetly moving to a new townhome, renting out the second room to your old friend from high school: Kim Taehyung
Pairing(s):
Kim Taehyung x Y/N
ft. Lim Jaebeom x Y/N
disclaimer: any character depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respective idol in real life.
Series warning(s)/genre(s): Social media/Fake Text AU, Roommates au, somewhat Slow Burn relationship (or is it more oblivious to lovers ?), Actress!Y/N, Flower shop owner and model!Taehyung, fluff, drama(bc it’s me), romance, angst (updated as needed)
Necessary story written piece beneath the cut!
wc: 4017
Chapter warning(s): Heavy themes of loneliness and quite a bit of angst. Emotional breakdown by means of a lot of crying and a small moment of nearly hyperventilating. Optimistic ending. 
You look down at the ended conversation displayed on your phone, thumbs hovering over the device but you know you have nothing more to say. Sighing, you let it fall to your phone and glance your head out at the grey outside that the car travels through. The clouds took a break from the constant showers that covered the city, but you do not doubt they will continue again, probably the second you step out of the vehicle.
“You can just take me home instead of stopping by that food place.” You speak up to your manager’s assistant who has recently been driving you around for scheduled activities. When Manager Yang is not able to attend things with you, the assistant is definitely there instead. You wager to make sure you don’t do anything more to grind the nerves of the company, but you never have asked the question directly.
“Are you sure? The weather doesn’t seem as bad as a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah, I have some leftovers at home I’ll eat instead.” The explanation exists only to pacify his confusion, because after that conversation you really have no interest in eating anytime soon. Without conviction your eyes search between passing buildings for signs of the sun breaking through any of the clouds, but as you expected there is no such light. If there had been any hope of the storm ending, the production team would not have called off shooting for today.
You don’t mind the weather for that fact, but at the same time it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that you can only rely on unruly weather to give you a dent of the day back to yourself. If you try to think about how long it’s been this way, your mind would skim back years and years. Early on when you were still in high school and quickly garnering all of the roles in films you could, you didn’t mind the workload at all. Everything was still new, and admittedly going through that part of your life with fame attached to it felt like a grandiose thing.
The glittering of it all wore off a while ago, and letting your head fall back against your seat cushion, you realize just how exhausting it all is. But what else is there?
“Thanks for the ride.” You wave to the assistant as you exit the vehicle in front of the small gate that surrounds the townhome. Your company may know the address somehow, but you certainly are not willing to give out the gate code, much less a key, so you get out on the curbside. You’re relieved when he doesn’t loiter to make sure you get in safely, because the sooner you can stop thinking about everything the sooner you can have a semblance of a clear head.
To your surprise the rain comes again after you’re under the cover of your entryway instead of starting to pour directly on your head. Standing there for a moment, you watch the droplets fall in a humid frenzy that is familiar for this time of the year. This odd hour of the day is much earlier than people head home from jobs, so the neighborhood is quiet with inactivity, only seeming to be populated by you and the millions of droplets that see only a moment of you before they’re gone from your sight into puddles on the ground.
You stretch out your arm to breach into the shower, feeling the water collide with your skin as you continue watching the spectacle of it all. Almost, you’re able to enjoy it completely; take in the beauty of nature, and the serenity of your tiny front yard that’s enclosed in its own bubble. But as your eyes scan the area, your arm tenses when you catch the well-tended to flower beds that line the front gate.
You remember everything you wish is not reality.
Pulling your arm back, you turn on your heel and type the code to your door, entering in haste. The lights inside are off, and the space is quiet, almost without the sound of the showers outside. Without consideration you simply allow your bag to fall beside you on the floor while you flick your shoes haphazardly in the same general direction. It’s not unusual for no one to be home in the middle of the day, but as you step deeper the space feels uncharacteristically empty.
Miscellaneous items are decorated in their little mess around the area, but they’re all your own things that clutter. In your moment of recollection, you glance back to the front door as you realize you didn’t trip over any of Taehyung’s shoes on the way inside. Your lips part at the knowledge and your hand clutches against your top as you turn to walk into the kitchen.
Your line of sight wanders over the countertops, then to the small table beside the door out to the back, but you find nothing. You turn back and stalk into the living room once more, eyes searching quickly to the coffee table, then end tables-- any surface of space you could.
In that instant of finding nothing your eyelids grow hot, and your throat hitches, but you hold back any noise by biting your lip. You don’t have the right to be this upset if he’s already gone without a word of goodbye. You made your choices-- you’re living the consequences.
Air nonetheless escapes your mouth in a high, choppy gasp. You thought there would be more time than the four days it's been since you told him he should leave, since you typed all of those things you didn’t mean and left tears all over your phone screen. You shake your head, forcing everything back again, because you don’t have the right to feel upset about this. You don’t, and you keep repeating that to yourself, but what difference would it make if you started bawling about it here anyways?
You put your hand to your face, rubbing your eyes to stop tears from beginning, but when the sentence plays in your head you’re unable to stop them when you inevitably mumble to yourself,
“I’m all alone now.”
Only a couple escape your ducts, before you take in a deep inhale and remind yourself that this is for the best. If Taehyung has nothing to do with you, then his reputation will not be bothered further, his flower shop won’t run the risk of being singled out on a gossip form, and  his life will continue in its peaceful path just like he wants.
You rub the tears from the corner of your eyes, finding sight of his mug in its usual spot beside the couch. As you take a step towards it, your eyebrows knit wondering if he forgot it but you find a beverage still within it, though mostly gone.
The front door’s entry alert causes your shoulders to jolt in surprise, and your body to turn as it opens wide to let the melody of the rain flood your ears once more. From the cloudy outside that’s a lighter blue than the inside of your house, Taehyung’s figure seems enveloped by a dull brightness.
The hollow feeling in your chest fills with the thrum of your heartbeat. You watch as his lips pout while he looks down at your discarded items, then his head lifts up upon the recognition, startling with a sound of surprise when he sees you.
“I didn’t know you were home,” His words stumble out while his hand searches on the wall and successfully presses on the light switch. “What are you doing?” He asks, frowning in confusion of the certainly odd situation he wandered into.
Taehyung knows that you are not the most organized person on the planet, but your shoes finding their way to the designated closet is the example for him that he never manages to follow. So to see them in a mess on the floor beside your bag, Taehyung thought the placement to be abnormal and maybe somewhere in the back of his mind before he looked up he even felt worry.
“Ah, I just,” You start in a small voice, before dipping your head away from his view. Taehyung takes notice of the aversion, then latches onto the remembrance of your last text conversation. “I got off work because of the weather, so I’m here. Forgot to turn the lights on.”
“I see.” He responds simply, with the slightest nod of his head. Taehyung slips off his shoes finally, and enters deeper into the house, trying his best not to let questions in his head breed into a field that will be left unanswered by you and filled in with guesses by himself.
“What about you?” Your words come making him stop just beyond where you remained as he followed the path to his bedroom. Taehyung can’t help glancing towards you, just a couple feet from him, but appearing so far away as your head faces at a downward angle to the couch beside you.
“I closed the shop early today.” He explains in a low voice, because he does not want to say why he’s come home. He still doesn’t want to think about everything falling apart. And for a moment that fact causes him a burst of frustration because of all of those unanswered questions so his tone shifts coarsely when he gives a curt reply, “Going to sign a new lease.”
Taehyung expects nothing from the sentence, but watching your hand  tighten atop the couch makes him hesitate from going to his room. It’s the smallest action, and nonverbal at that. He knows everything you said about distrusting him and about his importance being nothing more than an irrational measurement you never meant, so why does he still cling on to the smallest sign. One that means nothing.
He shakes his head softly, feeling consumed by the tension. He walks down the hall to his room, leaving you there. Turning away just in time for the sparse rain drops in your eyes to drip in silence onto the leather your hand clings to.
Rather than reaching to wipe them away, you simply let the tears fall, thinking it better to ignore them so they altogether stop. For all of the relief that built in your chest at seeing him again, it ripped back away at his statement. You want to tell him he still has two weeks that he could stay, but you know that would only serve unnecessary confusion, and that it’s better if he leaves now while you’re still able to hold yourself back from confessing the insincerity of all the hurtful things you messaged him.
“Do-” Your shoulders tense at the pet name he stopped himself from uttering. Your lips tighten into a line, forcing away a frown as he continues after a moment, “Y/N, are you okay?”
Considering everything, you wonder how Taehyung even asked you that, knowing well that you’ve given him every reason to stop caring about you to even the smallest extent. But he’s sweet and gentle like the flowers he tends to. You muster a smile at this thought, and nod your head even though you’re facing away from him still.
Taehyung’s hand curls in response to your demeanor, wondering if you really have to look away from him. Does it bother you that much to even be around him? Because things were different only a week ago, it is nearly impossible for him to accept the situation at hand, but ultimately he just sighs, and starts a walk back to the front door, wearing a fresh shirt that’s different from the type he typically wears to work in the flower shop.
As he heads to the door, you recall the countless times he’s walked in and out, wandered around the house familiarly, like a necessary puzzle piece to the space. You can think of the many failed recipes created in the kitchen that led to races to the front door to get the food deliveries afterwards. And you can remember the time you held the door open for him when he struggled with his arms full of little flower starts that would bloom soon if they are maintained after he leaves.
He’s leaving.
“Tae,” Your voice barely sounds like anything but a weak squeak because of the emotions clogging up your throat. He stops to turn back towards you like a habit-- his eyes focusing on your person easily, though the irises are admittedly not as cheerful as all the times of the past. “You-” Your nails dig into the leather of the couch, like the logic you’ve taped up in your mind tries desperately to stay together. But the throbbing pain in your heart wins over your mouth, “I’m so sorry.”
“What-” Taehyung’s sentence drops away as he notices the glittering on your cheeks, and he turns completely. With every nerve on his body beginning to prickle in worry, he takes a step in your direction on impulse, pausing only when you shake your head, releasing more tears down your skin.
“I’m sorry. I’m so selfish-- I really can’t do this.” The words dribble out in a frantic mumble as you finally begin to wipe away at the tears. “I know I need to let you leave-- I know you should; I can’t do this though. I don’t want you to go, I really don’t-”
Your breath hitches as you’re all the sudden pulled into a strong embrace. Without hesitation your arms cling to his shirt, while a sob muffles into the fabric. Taehyung’s arms encompass you with the same feeling that living with him gives you: safety.
“Calm down, Y/N.” Taehyung soothes your trembling frame with his fingertips clutching tightly on your shoulder blades, fastening you to this space that was stable. Giving you a place to belong again.
“I didn’t mean any of it, Tae,” You croak between gasps as your lungs fight for air amidst your sobs. “I trust you more than anyone-- you’re the most important person to me, Taehyung. Please don’t go.”
“Then why,” He starts the question, but then your rushed sentences finally register to him properly. The fact that you said you know he needs to leave. Taehyung breathes in as the realization of it sets in. You were trying to get him away so he wouldn’t be involved anymore. For his benefit, not because you ever wanted that.
“I-,” You cough, clutching onto him tighter as the sobbing leaves your throat thick. You want to explain everything, and make sure that he hears your apologies as many times as necessary, so desperately you try to speak up again only for Taehyung to hush them away.
“Stop for a bit, dove.” He tells you, causing you to find a grasp at peace just from him addressing you with endearment once again. “I’m not going to walk away-- you don’t need to rush. Let’s sit down, okay?”
As you sit on the couch with your fingers rubbing onto your temples, Taehyung stands in the kitchen fiddling with objects that you hear clatter around. You think little of it, simply counting seconds with the inhales and exhales of your breaths, elongating them so as to ease away the rampant swarm of tears and emotions. The prickling in your head must be from a mixture of shock and embarrassment, you decide, becoming increasingly aware of how vividly everything came flooding out.
When Jaeboem texted you days earlier, you had to stop replying. You feel bad still for leaving his series of texts pleading with you out of worries for being left on read, but when he verbally acknowledged how alone you must be, you couldn’t look at the words any longer. That aspect of your lifestyle needs to be kept in check or else you would have to look at everything that’s hollow in the world that you made for yourself.
For following a dream that you were passionate about, in the past you anticipated a cover of happiness washed over your life once you reached the level of notoriety that would keep acting jobs flooding in. But for years of your work and efforts to simply amount to you walking into a lifeless house, with the few people around you about to walk out, you couldn’t let yourself see that because it would be the one thing too much to bear. Even if you enjoy acting, the present gives you no sense of fulfillment outside of your job, which in itself is starting to be cracked with holes as well.
“Here.” Your eyes break from their lack of concentration to watch Taehyung settle a mug that matches his on a coaster in front of you. The steam filled with the warm scent of honey and tea leaves. “Does your head hurt?”
Meagerly and barely do you nod, finally removing your hands from putting pressure on your temples to take hold of the mug. Careful to keep your skin from directly touching the hot ceramic, you balance it inches from your lips to blow gently.
“Thank you.” You mumble, taking small sips so as not to burn your taste buds. The drink is light, but soothing to your throat that is ravaged from your outburst. “I,” Your head jolts as you recall, nearly sloshing around the scalding tea, but Taehyung’s hand aids you in steadying the mug as you speak in worry. “I stopped you from meeting the leasing office-- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Taehyung shakes his head, very slightly nudging the mug so that you drink more. As you finally give in despite your frown, he continues in a quiet voice. “It’s not like I really wanted to go anyways.”
As you glance towards him with an uncertain hope glinting in your eyes, Taehyung smiles gently and is unable to stop his thumb to graze over your cheek where tear treks remain. In the void of words, the shower outside rages on with a hum of thunder only relaxing the tension in your shoulders. As his hand leaves your skin, you break eye contact to again sip at the beverage while Taehyung eases more into his seat beside you.
Without speaking, he simply rests his head on the cushion, letting you revitalize yourself with the drink. He arranges his thoughts with his newfound information, and is almost upset that he never contemplated any of it before. His friends too had commented repeatedly how strange and out of character all of the texts you sent him were, especially Jeongguk who was fully convinced the connection between you and Taehyung could only be genuine. Taehyung thought the same, and he could blame the surprise of it all for letting his rationality falter, but ultimately he feels disappointed in himself for not considering that this was the only way you found yourself able to protect him.
It’s true that if he continued to believe your words, the hurt would have been enough to start a gap of separation from you, and perhaps even if he reconsidered later down the line he may have pushed the thoughts aside to keep you from having to bother with the whole thing again. Or perhaps it is more accurate, he decides, that he may have not been willing to risk hearing you say everything to him all over again.
“Now you don’t want me to leave?” Taehyung breaks the silence with the small question, the corner of his lips quirking as the empty mug clatters on the coaster from your surprise from the bluntness. With furrowed eyebrows you turn to look at him, so clearly upset with yourself, that Taehyung doesn’t have the heart to tease you any further. His lips part to speak but in a small ramble you beat him to it,
“I never wanted you to. I just didn’t know how else to keep you from getting dragged into anything more than you have been. I know you don’t want anything to do with fame, and,” You shake your head as once again those texts replay through your head.
“Dove.” Taehyung’s hand covers over the top of yours as they fiddle on your lap, bringing you back down. “I understand now.”
Your frown remains, and your chest feels heavy once more because you know you really did hurt him, and yet he’s sitting beside you still and giving you a chance at explanation. You don’t deserve that.
“I should have let you go though.” Your eyes fall to your lap, watching as his hand squeezes over top of yours. You’re sure he doesn’t like your sentence. “Taehyung, I know you say that you don’t mind any of the baggage that comes along with getting linked to me in rumors, but you don’t know what it’s actually like to go through any of that. To have thousands of people you don’t know critique all the choices you make and constantly put their judgement on you just because they don’t like you or are bored-- it’s exhausting. Especially if you’re not even gaining anything from it. You don’t want to get into this lifestyle--and that’s fine, but it’s even more of a reason for you to distance yourself from me. I can’t control any of this as much as I want to, and you’ll just end up dealing with trouble because of it all.”
Without thinking, one of your hands turns upwards, taking a grasp of his gently.
“I do gain something from it all.” Taehyung says, ready for his eyes to meet yours when your head turns in confusion. “I’ll still be in your life.”
Your jaw clenches; heart beating too happily at his affirmation of it all. It’s idyllic and frankly all you would want to hear from him. Such a simple thing, yet the implication causes new, touched tears to collect in the corner of your eyes. Warmly Taehyung smiles at you, tugging you towards him so he can hug you, which you allow without hesitation.
“I know that you’re worried about me, dove, but what you’re telling me I’ve considered too. I may not have been that involved when I was a trainee, but I know the media can be ruthless and cruel, but I’d still choose dealing with that than not being with you anymore.”
“But why,” You pull a bit from him to look up at his face, frowning. “No one’s ever wanted to go through all of this crap just for me-- I don’t understand why you always pick to stay.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I care about you before you believe me?” He asks with a smile, cutting off any of your uncertain remarks by simply hugging you tighter and chuckling as you make a noise of surprise from the action. “Dove, I’m happiest living here with you. You mean so much to me, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. No matter how many times you ask me, you’re going to get this for an answer. You’re my friend, Y/N. You’re dear to me.”
Your hands meddle their way from between your torsos so that you can wrap your arms around him tightly. Taehyung smiles at the reciprocation, settling his forehead atop your head when he feels your body rumble from some muffled cries that somehow have an air of happiness to them.
You’re willing to accept his answer, no longer frightened of all the repercussions as you cling onto Taehyung as if he’ll drift away. Now you realize how content the world becomes with even one person willing to stay. Without the attachment of jobs, or the necessity to save face in front of cameras, Taehyung wants to remain where he is. You’re so thankful for the fact, but can’t properly express the gratitude through words, but he hums in response anyways, keeping you enveloped in his arms as he tells you peacefully,
“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Don’t worry.”
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matchasprouts · 3 years ago
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The Walls - Chapter 6
[ classes started today so i really didn't expect to be able to write at all, but DAMN am i glad i got this chapter out so i can finally move on to the ship part jhwebjhhfbwehjf ]
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The banging in the walls continued, shaking the paintings and the lights above them. All of them were frantically looking around for the source, Felix especially.
And then Cole spotted the mirror.
“What the…” he muttered, moving over to it, his reflection growing larger with every step. Soon, he was right in front of it, slowly pressing his ear to the glass. “It sounds like-”
He never got to finish that sentence, the glass shattering with a massive force that sent him flying back with the shards. There was silence for a few seconds, before something happened.
A hand emerged from the hole in the wall behind the mirror, followed by another on the other side. Slowly, they helped propel someone through the hole- someone big.
All of them were frozen as the figure completely emerged from the hole, towering over them at least 6 ft and definitely buffer than any of the three of them. He had dark, curly hair that matched the black hairs on his chest and framed the porcelain mask on his, a glimpse of an equally curly beard, and barely visible green eyes.
Literally, he was huge. And Felix recognized him almost instantly.
“Brahms?” he asked tentatively, unsure if saying his name would set him off. Greta's gaze snapped to him, and so did Brahms’s, which basically confirmed it. Felix held Brahms’s stare, until Cole began to sit up.
Almost immediately, Brahms lunged at him, grabbing the man by the neck and slamming him into the ground repeatedly. Greta screamed, grabbing Brahms’s shoulders and trying to pull him off. Instinctively, Felix grabbed her arm and pulled her away, holding onto her as she tried to go back to stop Brahms.
After bashing his head a few times, Brahms started glancing around for a weapon, grabbing a shard of the doll’s head as soon as he spotted it. Before Greta or Felix could react, the shard was lodged in Cole’s neck. Unsatisfied with the fact that he was still gurgling, Brahms shoved it in even further, only letting go when he was sure Cole was dead.
Then, slowly, he turned to the other two. Greta instantly took off, grabbing Felix by the arm and pulling him with her. He couldn’t really process what she was doing, or why, instead keeping his gaze locked on Brahms until he couldn’t see them anymore.
Felix was still catching up when Greta practically threw them into one of the empty bedrooms, slamming herself against the door as she fumbled with the key. Finally she jabbed the key into the lock, managing to turn it right as Brahms started banging on the door to get in.
That seemed to snap him into reality. This was his bedroom. “The closet!” he yelled, Greta flinching at the suddenness of his voice, right before running over to the closet door. By the time he had it closed and locked, the rattling of the door had stopped.
There was quiet for a minute, before an arm came through the closet door. Greta screamed- Felix was getting sick of the sound, it hurt his ears- and grabbed the rotary phone, hitting Brahms’s hand with it to stop him from grabbing her.
“Come on!” Felix grabbed Greta by the wrist, quickly unlocking the bedroom door and kicking it open, running with her back into the room they’d just been in. “The wall!” he told her, when she gave him that panicked look of confusion.
She was smarter than he gave her credit for, almost instantly running for the hole in the wall that had been behind the now shattered mirror. Felix followed close behind, waiting for her to be up the ladder before climbing it himself. He caught a glimpse of the porcelain mask before Greta helped him up and they took off in the crawlspace.
About two seconds in, he started to hyperventilate.
Felix hated admitting it, hated admitting his greatest weakness, but he was extremely claustrophobic, and the crawlspace wasn’t helping. He vaguely wondered how someone as big as Brahms could get through it without trouble but, before he knew it, they were in a room.
Greta moved forward into the room, her curiosity winning over her fear, but Felix stood near the entrance, taking deep breaths as quietly as he could, as to not alarm her. It wasn’t long before he was looking around as well.
It only took a few seconds for something to grab his interest.
“Is that my apron?” he asked aloud, getting Greta’s attention. There, hung up on one of the walls, was his tattered old apron that he lost on his first day with the Heelshires.
It looked surprisingly well kept, even with some of the holes sewn up. He moved over to it, carefully running a hand over the clothing item. He honestly couldn’t believe that Brahms kept it this long- maybe he planned on returning it but decided against it as the years passed.
Soon his attention moved to the wall behind the apron. There were a few sketches pinned to the wall around it, all of him doing mundane things like making coffee, or watering the houseplants.
When he looked to the rest of the wall, he found very similar sketches of Greta, and a few of the two of them interacting. “Oh my god, he’s been living in here!” Greta suddenly realized, snapping her head toward Felix. “You- you were right. He’s been in the walls this whole time, watching us!”
Wow. Now someone believes him? It took the threat of death??
Right. Not the time to be petty.
“Don’t panic,” Felix told her firmly, looking around for an exit. “We need to keep moving, we don’t know where he is. Come on.”
They entered the walls again, much to Felix’s discomfort. After a little while of moving through the walls, Felix froze. He’d come across one of the holes in the walls and could see Brahms through it, ripping apart the room on the other side in probably anger.
And then he saw him.
“Run!” Felix yelled, pushing Greta slightly to get her going. Just as he moved away from the spot, an arm ripped through the wall, tearing open a Brahms sized hole.
Before they knew it, he was in the walls with them, and they were running as fast as they could through the cramped space to get away. Felix vaguely regretted being the one closest to Brahms, since the man was practically on his heels, but was mostly glad that he could, to an extent, protect Greta from him.
Soon they came across a door surrounded by pipes, with Brahms right behind them. “You go open it!” Felix told Greta, grabbing a nearby loose pipe, planning on using it as a weapon. “I’ll keep him off you, go!”
He hated breaking the rules, but he wasn’t going to let Greta die here. She didn’t deserve it.
He, however, had no one left to miss him. His death would mean nothing, and he was okay with it. “I don’t wanna hurt you Brahms,” he said as Brahms got closer, tightening his grip on the pipe.
Brahms paused for a moment, before lunging at Felix. Felix wasn’t a small man by any means, so he put up a good fight before Brahms managed to wrangle the pipe away from him. There was another moment of hesitation as Brahms looked down at Felix, who was now on the ground, the pipe raised above him. It almost seemed like he didn’t want to bring it down.
But apparently getting Greta was more important, and he brought the pipe down on Felix’s head with a heavy thunk.
He was out almost immediately.
---
Felix stirred after what felt like forever, laying on the floor next to Cole’s body. Upon realizing he was next to a corpse, he shot up immediately, ignoring the pounding in his head as he scrambled away from it.
He heard rapid footsteps after that, followed by Brahms appearing in the doorway, holding the fire stoker in his right hand. Felix instinctively moved away from him, his back hitting the wall.
Brahms tilted his head at the reaction, seeming… unfond of the look of fear in Felix’s eyes. He was used to a fire in there, not… this. He didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry,” Brahms spoke, using that childish voice that Felix hated. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But I didn’t want her to leave me… I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Ah. Implies that he’s going to kill Felix if Greta doesn’t return.
“So you’re going to kill me?” Felix immediately asked, finally making eye contact with the group’s attacker. “I’m not going down without a fight, Brahms.” Slowly, as to not worsen his headache, he stood up, ready to fight if needed.
Brahms apparently didn’t like this, taking a step back. They were quiet, just watching each other, before a familiar voice rang out from the halls.
“Brahms? I- I’ve come back for you. I promised I wouldn’t leave you,” Greta called out, bringing the man to attention instantly. He didn’t move though, clearly wondering if this was a trap. “Just- please just let him go. I won’t run again.”
That seemed to wipe away any hesitation he had, sending Felix one last glance before rushing out to meet his nanny.
Felix stood there for a long time after Brahms ran off, only moving when he heard Greta snap at him, telling him it was bedtime.
He didn’t remember hurting his leg but as he limped down the hall to the child’s bedroom, he noticed a long and deep gash in his calf. Had that happened when Brahms dragged him out of the walls? How hadn’t he noticed when he stood up? What a fucked up headache.
Soon he was leaning heavily against the bedroom’s door frame, watching Greta tuck Brahms into bed. He couldn’t believe he still wanted to ensure that the rules were followed. It was probably his abandonment issues.
“Good night, Brahms,” he heard Greta say, leaning back and away from the man. Before she could get too far, he grabbed her arm.
“Kiss…?” Oh. The desperate, quiet tone in Brahms’s voice broke Felix’s heart. He knew how important the kiss was to him. Greta glanced back at him, and he just looked away. He didn’t like feeling weak.
“No kiss tonight,” Greta told him, patting his hand cautiously. “That’s your punishment. You scared us, Brahms. That’s not okay.”
This didn’t deter him. “Kiss,” Brahms repeated, more forcefully this time. Greta sighed, finally giving in. When she leaned down, that’s when Felix saw the glint of something shiny.
He wasn’t fast enough. When Brahms moved the kiss to Greta’s lips, Felix tried to jump forward, to grab the weapon, but his injured leg toppled him over as Greta stabbed the screwdriver into Brahms’s torso.
The man cried out, swinging his arm out and sending Greta flying into the wall. When he got up and reached for her, Felix stepped in.
“Don’t!” he snapped from the floor, making both of the other people freeze. Brahms looked down at him, chest heaving and blood trickling down from where the screwdriver was still lodged in his torso. “You don’t want to hurt her… you went through all this trouble…”
He was right, and he knew that Brahms knew it. Unfortunately, this was the exact distraction that Greta needed.
With a yell, she lunged forward and drove the screwdriver in even deeper. Brahms let out another pained cry, this one worse than the first. He fell to the ground near Felix, who immediately started pulling himself over to him.
Greta tried to pick Felix up, to bring him with her, but he yanked himself out of her grasp. “Get out!” he yelled at her through gritted teeth, glaring at the former nanny. She seemed surprised, but figured Brahms would die soon enough and left it alone. She took off without a second thought.
Felix pulled himself over to Brahms, pulling himself into a sitting position and leaning back against the bed. He quickly ripped off one of his sleeves, getting it ready to hold against the wound before swiftly pulling out the screwdriver and covering the wound with the sleeve.
He wasn’t going to let Brahms die. He may not have ever known the real him until today, but this was his friend, the only one he had. There was no way in hell he was going to let him go.
No fucking way.
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sharkmobster · 4 years ago
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Hey, I saw you rebloged the post about the trope when one person starts crying, and the rest give them a group hug. Can you tell us who the crying one is, who the "lone wolf badass" is and who pulls the lone wolf in?
Ahsgdha Michael is absolutely the one who cries the most, he's got so much to unpack and work through (and i kinda imagine this happening around the time william tries to get into contact with michael and they meet up at fazbear frights so yikes!!!!!! Lots of pain coming to the surface with that!!!!)
But yeah Michael is like full on break down sobbing, Im talking wheezing, hyperventilating and all that and Ballora is by his side immediately, followed shortly after by CB bc they can just feel Elizabeth screaming and clawing to get to Michael (and they wont admit it afterwards but they're so tired of seeing Michael like this, not annoyed or anything, but just the raw emotion that pours out of him sometimes is too much for them). Ft foxy drops that lone wolf facade immediately, Bonnett and Bon Bon riding their shoulders and then immediately pouncing off to hug Michael. Ft Freddy hangs back, acting like he doesn't want to drop everything for Michael right then and there bc he has an appearance to uphold but he and Michael make eye contact and its enough for him to waver. It's Ft Foxy that drags him back, placing him in the middle with Michael and only then does Ft Freddy relent, finally joining in the group hug.
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hollyhomburg · 5 years ago
Text
Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt.2)
(Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Reader) (ft. Bear! Taehyung) (Eventual Polyamory) 
Tags: graphic domestic abuse, minor body horror, blood, major character death, hybrid mistreatment, implied spousal rape, unplanned pregnancy, depression, nightmares, PTSD, Dog hybrid! Namjoon, Bear Hybrid! Taehyung, 
W/C: 5.2k
Song Rec: Hozier- to be alone
A/n: so yeah! here is the much-awaited second part of reasons wretched and divine! No jimin or yoongi in this yet. but it’s coming! 
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- There is a moment when everything shifts, the world spinning off its kilter. You tearfully holding the pregnancy test in your hands, the horror welling up in your stomach that Namjoon feels in turn when it really really hits him what it means, what you’ve been going through. 
- Because he’s seen the hickeys, but he never thought- it never made sense- but now- You're hyperventilating, your breaths coming in deep gasps that rattle around your chest like a gale-force wind. Namjoon holds you up, stopping you from falling to the bathroom floor.
- Your lower lip quivers, and your shoulders to small for all the ache that lies between. You ghasp out his name “Joon- Joonie- this can’t happen- this wasn’t supposed to happen to me- if I have his kid- he’s never going to let me go.”  
- Namjoon wishes- wishes beyond anything he’s ever wanted- every desire he’s ever had because this takes precident- he wishes that the pregnancy test could be wrong. 
- But as he lets out his own choked breath even he can admit-  your scent is changing, it’s different now than it was when he first met you. slowly shifting to become somehow softer and sweeter, a change that he can’t quite place yet but probably would have been able to tell in a few days and now that he knows he can pinpoint it. 
- “Namjoon- I can’t” you sob and he pulls you to his chest, thanking his lucky stars that this happened when your husband was at work, that he’s not here for this. “I don’t want to raise them here- I don’t want this-” 
- Namjoon swallows back his panic, the part of his brain that was trained to deal with crisis taking over, knowing that once he suggests this the future might be out of his hands.  “We can leave- we’ll go- I think- We could leave now- it might be our only chance-“ 
- In a very haphazard way you grab as much as you can carry, and the money you keep around the house and a few things you can pawn maybe, you throw it in the first bag you can get your hands on. 
-  It’s probably better if you stay off the roads Namjoon’s says, and he knows that there are some train tracks a little ways away through the woods- you’ve heard the sound of it on occasion on the quieter nights- you could follow that. You might have an old college friend in the city you could stay with and Namjoon does too- the old captain, Namjoons old partner- maybe him. 
- Maybe he could take you to the police station and you could give a statement- and if the police system really was for protecting the people, maybe that would be enough to put your husband in jail.  
- You pile everything into one bag and don your most sturdy coat- in a panic you don’t think to check. Only to open the door to find your husband about to reach for the doorknob, come back from work early. 
- The way your husband just grabs Namjoon’s arm and twists it until it breaks will haunt you forever- the savage crack that started the worst night of your life.
- Namjoon’s scream echos off the walls. your husband closes the front door calmly. Freedom and safety so close and yet, so out of reach. Your hopes falling in a second. 
- What happens next isn’t pretty, the night passes on in a blur of pain and words that will haunt your dreams, and will one day make you reach for namjoon after- reassure yourself that he’s still there, that he’s still alive, that you both survived. 
- He goes for you after Namjoon’s incapacitated, his hand around your throat.  he manages to get both of you to the basement while namjoon pleads- “please don’t hurt her- I promise it was my idea-  please-.” neither of you is surprised when he pushed you down the stairs to the basement and then namjoon after you. Namjoon’s arm bleeding rivulets from where the bone pokes through. 
- The night moves on, syrupy slow and painful, and looks a lot like this.
- Namjoon with an inwardly piercing collar with barbs so that every single time he lunges to protect you it digs into his neck. Your husband screaming until his voice has turned hoarse.  “So you wanted her so bad that you were going to try to take her away from me? well, This is what your protection gets her!” 
- Blood in your mouth where you’ve bitten your cheek, spilling out onto your red lips when he hits you- the same cheek had touched Namjoon’s cheek just a few weeks ago, he remembers it vividly, and the gentle stroke of the back of his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear. And now- your husband grabbing you by your hair and shaking you like a leaf in front of Namjoon.  
- “Maybe after I kill her she’ll be reborn as a bitch and she’ll finally be at your level mutt. But then again you’re both already worthless.” 
- hours later your husbands cellphone starts to ring upstairs and he goes to retreive it. You’re crumpled on the floor motionless, Namjoon’s hand is starting to go numb. it’s hushed and cryptic at the top of the stairs, you can barely make out the words but you’re not really trying to do anything but muster the energy up to crawl to where namjoon’s tied to the wall, leaving a small trail of blood as you go. stilling when he pears down from the top at both of you. “I’ll deal with both of you later, get ready to meet the devil mutt.” 
- but this is already hell- There is already too much blood on your clothes, too much red.  
- Namjoon knows enough to know that the blood between your legs isn’t a good sign if you’re pregnant. You manage to crawl over to Namjoon and get him free just before you truely pass out and Namjoon drives you to the hospital, almost crashing the car several times (he’d never driven one before, and doing it with one hand wasn’t easy).
- They treat you and your baby. And Namjoon almost sags in relief when one of the nurses tells him you’re both okay- actually does fall over, the adrenaline finally fading and the true pain of his broken arm really hits him, sending him to his knees now that he knows that you’re safe- that you’re going to be okay. 
- They diagnose it as compound fracture; now in a thick and bulky cast. Cracking it back into place had hurt almost as much as the initial break. Namjoon is just being wheeled back to his room from the x-ray when one of the nurses comes leading two police officers. 
- Namjoon gives a statement to the police in his room while he waits for one of the nurses to come by and tell him that you’re awake and out of surgery. Since he introduces himself with his police number, they take his word as the truth (namjoon was worried- your husband was well known in town, but police do protect their own- even their hybrid units) 
- Then they leave, after they give Namjoon reassurance that a man will be placed outside your room until your husband is found and booked for the crime of attempted murder. A crime scene photographer will be coming by then as well- They’ll take pictures of your wounds later when you're awake- of course.
- A nurse hovers, and namjoon shoots up out of his wheelchair when she says that you’re ready for him, that you’ve been asking for namjoon and that you’re awake. 
- When Namjoon sees you in the hospital bed, the light of morning streaming through the window across your bruised face, he falls into you. Crying heavily into your lap as the stress and fear finally breaks from the day before, the nurse standing barely pausing as namjoon breaks apart. As Namjoon strings his good arm across your waist and gets as close as he can to you, you reach out to him too- hand fisting in the back of his hospital gown as strong as you can with how bruised up you are. 
- “I was so fucking scared- and it’s-“ “it’s finally over,” you say, more than a little weepy yourself. Namjoon pulls himself up onto the bed so that he can press his forehead against yours, an uneasy smile tugging on his lips, cheeks stickey with tears. 
- later, with you leaning against Namjoon’s good side, your cheek against his bruised collar bone, the officers come by to guard outside your door. And they must have you stand so that they can take photographs of your injuries. Namjoon refuses to leave the room when they do, even though they got a woman police officer to take the photos. He won’t leave you alone now- not when your husband is still out there. 
- He turns to the officer, “is there any word on the suspect yet?” it feels so much better to call him that, and Namjoon is anxiously anticipating seeing your torturer in handcuffs. The woman nods, “they should be taking him in now”
- But they aren't. 
- The police officers arrive to the farm to find him still absent, the farmhouse empty with all the lights on, door open, exactly how you left it. His car is missing as well. It takes them a few hours before they find it parked just off the interstate The next morning. 
- it takes them even longer to find your husband at the bottom of a ravine a few hours later, a bullet in his back and one in his skull.
- You and Namjoon are suspects at first but since they have video footage of you both at the hospital around your husband’s time of death you’re mostly cleared. No one mourns the loss of your husband, least of all you and Namjoon.
- You linger in the hospital for a few days, the doctors just want to make sure that there really isn’t anything wrong with your baby. And they allow namjoon to sleep in your room in your bed once he makes it clear that he will make himself a nusance if they don’t.
- Namjoon’s old captain comes to visit, Namjoon is surprised, but he guesses that his old precinct must have been called and given his id number after the police got involved. You’re still asleep, namjoon seated when he knocks on the open door. 
- They talk softly at the door for a long while, until your stirring sleepily and reaching for namjoon. and namjoon sees the old captain's eyes darken when he sees the fading black bruises on your cheek. The stitches at the top corner of your lip that will probably leave a scar. “Have you found somewhere you want to be?” Namjoon nods, smiling gently at your sleeping form. “yes, I believe I have.” 
- The old police chief is the one that drives both of you back to the farmhouse, your introduction is brief and a little less than ideal as you’re still in a fair bit of pain. Both of you get more tense as the farmhouse comes into view, the rolling vacant hills and the yellow police tape blocking the front door. But you both don’t really have anywhere else to go other than here. 
- “He deserved what he got,” he says to Namjoon before he pulls out of the long driveway. If anything Namjoon wishes he was the one who’d done it, but you both have your freedom now so Namjoon will count his blessings and take your husbands mysterious death as one good thing. 
- As a result of your husband’s death, you become very very wealthy and inherit not only the farm but Namjoon too. “You know, if you wanted your freedom I’d let you go, even like- get you an apartment and find work for you somewhere else or-” 
- “Don’t be ridiculous I’m staying.” he’s mad at you for about half a day because of that, spends an afternoon angrily throwing things into a bunch of bins to be put in the attic. How could you even think of letting him go? where else would he want to be but here helping you- especially after the last few months? Now that it’s over things are...not good but strange in their emptiness. 
-  But you had to offer, you had to ask him if he wanted to stay with you, you don’t have anywhere to go but this house, and it isn’t exactly filled with the best memories, even if your husband is gone. 
- The first night you and Namjoon walk into the house and just sit for a while, realizing that this place will never be hell again, if either of you have anything to say about it. 
- You live the first few days after the funeral in a fog, but then when it breaks, it’s when you go into your husband’s old den, where he kept his guns, and decide to sell them all- you have no use for them anymore, you don’t want them anywhere near here.  
- Then you tare away all of the modern things and the decorations your husband put in the farmhouse.  Namjoon finds you burning your wedding photos in the fireplace, and just says, “What can I do to help?”  
- You point at the fine china plates in the cabinets, and you have the vivid memory of your late husband backhanding you across the face after you’d dropped one. “Take care of those.” 
- You cracking open his expensive bottle of champagne for Namjoon, giving it to him because you can’t drink. You dance in the living room shattering glass after glass and plate after plate into the trash bin that Namjoon brought inside. You throw your old mattress out the top floor balcony and drag it onto the gravel. Namjoon pours gasoline on it and both of you shout and crow as your damned marriage bed burns and burns under the stars.
- And for a moment, the two of you are so gloriously free that it’s almost like the last 6 months never happened. Namjoon looks over at you across the fire, your cheeks finally glowing like he’s never seen and Namjoon yearns, his head spinning with alcohol- the first time he’s ever been drunk and he realizes he wants you- needs you. And maybe it’s wrong- because you’ve just gotten out of that hell of a relationship. 
- He doesn’t have to want- not for long. 
- Because that night, you drag Namjoon’s mattress out of his room, and put it next to the single mattress from the guest bedroom side by side in the living room. You sleep with Namjoon there, cuddled up under his arm feeling safer than you ever have before. Falling asleep with a smile on both your faces. 
- Namjoon’s never had a home but he can feel himself start to carve one out here with you.  
- You and Namjoon wake up early and watch the sunrise over the hill, you drive into town and buy your weight in wildflower mix spreading it along the fields that your husband kept prim and proper- because who needs plain grass when you can have flowers? When you can have queen Ann’s lace, snapdragons, cosmos and buttercups in excess. Filling jam jar after jam jar with color in your white and black themed house.
- But then the nights get longer. And the two of you realize that your husband might be gone, but the memories never will be. One night Namjoon is woken by your screaming. He never sleeps deeply anymore, is always twitching awake from some nightmare. His arm might have healed, but there is always a lingering fantom pain, a slight numbness in the tips of his fingers that he feels when he reaches out to help you button your jacket, or flick of bit of fuz off of your shoulder, or gently tug your hair from where it’s gotten snagged. 
 - most nights you thrash around in your bed until namjoon shakes you awake. You sob into his arms and fall back asleep eventually hiccupping even in your sleep, clutching onto namjoon like he’s still the only good thing in your life. 
- Namjoon just holds you, running his fingers through your hair realizing that it’s going to take more than just a few weeks for the weight of what you’ve been through to really fade. The nightmares come almost every single night without fail, Namjoon moves into your room- the guest room for now- though you’re in the middle of repainting the master suite. 
- It gets so bad that you stop sleeping at night, twitching awake when you fall asleep and staying up to watch late-night television no matter how much Namjoon asks you to please come to bed. Namjoon wishes he could just hold you and make it all better but it doesn’t work that way.
- love won’t fix this, even if Namjoon will love you in whatever way you let him. even if it will always be this way- just namjoon and you gently and carefully takeing care of each other. 
- Sometimes you go easily, and other times the shadows under your eyes are so deep that he sits on the couch with you (an old velvet thing you found in one of the back of the barns and pulls you to lie your head on his lap, running his fingers through your hair- the only thing that makes you relax these days. For a little while, the way he can see you pleasantly shiver, the tension slowly receding is enough. 
- “Did you know I used to dream of doing this- back when we used to hug in the hallway at night?” he says one night when sleepiness has tempted to think confessing might be a good idea. You turn your face from the tv. “No- you didn’t” you say, a small smile tugging on his lips, tempting ideas that he shouldn’t be thinking, Namjoon should give you your space. 
- You don’t sleep when you can avoid it. It gets so bad that Namjoon gets worried, he begs you really to tell the doctor. There isn’t much that they can do safely with you being pregnant, not much medication that’s safe to take. But sleepy time tea, melatonin, and therapy twice a week on Monday and Friday do wonders too. 
- Namjoon brings you your sleepy time tea every night, and he can judge if you’re going to go to sleep by the amount your hands shake when you take the cup from him. 
- You get better, the flowers begin to bloom with spring, and your belly gets a little rounder at the front a tiny bit noticeable just enough to show if you know- if you’re looking for it. Namjoon can’t stop looking at it, something pecular and soft digging it’s hooks into his chest, and you never seem to judge or be uncomfortable with the affection you see in his face. 
- on a cold night, one of the few, you and namjoon sleep closer than usual, his nose bauried in your hair, his arm slung around your waist. his hand open to cradle your stomach- just a little, just a little bit protective, as much as he dares. that night you don’t have nightmares- you sleep straight through till morning for the first time in a verry long time. 
- He thinks you’re finally getting better until he wakes in a thunderstorm and finds you standing in the grass underneath the torrent, shivering in your thin clothes. Your shoulders are shaking and your large white shirt is sticking to your skin, your lips are turning blue.
- “Honey, come inside, get dry,” his hands smooth over your shoulders, a whine low in his throat. Recently he’s gotten more comfortable with showing his lupine instincts again. After so many years holding them down. his tail hangs low between his legs. ears pressed against the side of his head. 
- He doesn’t like the way you’re shivering. Doesn’t like the way that your eyes are staring off into space, angry and tear filled. Like you can barely tell that Namjoon’s there, so lost in the painful maze of your own memories that he can do nothing but stand and wait. He’s just about to say your name again when you speak. 
-  “Namjoon,” you say, your voice shaking, angry, teeth gritted, and Namjoon catches a little bit of your sweet scent, twined with pepper strong anger, you’re furious under his gentle fingers, looking to wipe away the warm tears that mix with the cold spring rain. “This can’t be all there is, this can- I can’t just be this, there has to be something good, something better to come out of this.” 
- You feel so cheated, none of this is the way you wanted it to be, your life, your first kid, you didn’t want to resent them- the life already nestled with in you- but you did. Or maybe resentment isn’t the right word for it- maybe fear that you would resent them clouds your judgment and makes you unsure...if you even should keep it. 
- Even if you know you want to, you’d always wanted to be a mom, and despite the fact that the child is your exhusbands. You know it won’t feel like that forever. 
- And though you thought that maybe- you’d be doing in alone. You look at Namjoon and know...that he’ll be there, probably, in all likelihood, in all hope- you think he’ll stick around. You’d never force him into any sort of role he didn’t want. But his hands when he touches your stomach feel like a balm to ease away your worry And fear of being a single parent. None of it seems so weighty with him around, with him looking at you so tenderly. 
- Maybe in another world, another timeline, this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you where suposed to have met Namjoon first. You’re sure of it sometimes, that your life was supposed to be different and that nothing was supposed to go this way. You feel bitter and angry, but the only person to be angry at- the only person you want to scream and shout at- is 6 feet under already. 
- Not for the first time, you wonder who killed your late husband. You wish you could take them out for coffee or maybe cook them a nice meal.
- (Maybe one day you will get the chance) 
- You thought after he was gone everything would be okay, but you never expected it to be this way for everything to feel terrible even if you were free, for things to be this bad, to be haunted by the memories like a house would a ghost.  
- You look like a ghost, wan and thin and pale, soaked to the bone.
- Namjoon tugs you inside feeling his heartbreak when you go into his arms limply and easily, like you don’t know how to do anything but follow his hands. namjoon a benevolent puppeteer. He gets you inside, gets you warmed up with a bathtub waiting. when he goes out to the kitchen to get started on some tea he sees that he left a light on out in the barns, twinking dimly with the others down at the bottom of the hill. 
- As he hovers his brain turns over all of the empty and unused space, the barns, the chicken coup unused, even the sturdier show room. There is so much room on the farm, so much space.
-  Inside his head, an idea blooms like a flower. small and yellow and hopeful. 
- He dosne’t say anything at all when he helps you out of the bath, still in a fog, dries you off with a warm towel, he’s a little detached But inside his chest, crackling in his lungs, buttercups take root like hope as he thinks. 
- Even as he dries’ your hair and you dry his, your hands lingering over his ears and rubbing. “you take such good care of me” you say, but he’s barely paying attentionl. Would it really be so easy? could it really be done?
- It’s not until later, with you streached out on the bed beside him, your hand lingering an inch away from his on the bedspread. Both of you have been awake for a while, just listening to the thunderclaps outside and enjoying the quiet warmpth indors that Namjoon murmurs the words into open air.
- “I think have an idea, something that we could do to...help I guess. to make this good” you sit up and look down at him. and he lets himself cradle your cheek in one palm. “i want to make this better for you.”
- You swallow, and prod, and namjoon talks quick, words fast and puncy as they come out freely. Suddenly the idea takeing form as you nood along. a bright understanding blooming in your eyes. and your replies- fast with excitment as you realize, and build upon his idea. 
- “We could change the barns- we could make it like- bunk rooms-” “yeah and then we could get the kitchen like- we don’t even use the second sitting room- make it bigger-”  - You decide to open up your farm property as a home for wayward hybrids, strays, and those fleeing abuse. you’ll take anyone really, anyone who needs a safe place. 
- The barns on your property are already half renovated, nearly ready and easily transformable from being a garage for your late husband's expensive car collection to housing. You sell the antique car collection for no small amount of money, and even sell his newer car too, keeping only the old red truck, and a smaller more fuel-efficient sedan for what you might need. 
- It’s a good thing your late husband had a penchant for things expensive, the barns are already refurbished and winterized (the winters don’t even get that bad here- it rarely ever snows in any significant amount). They’ll be warm enough you think for the winter, but seeing as its early spring. You know It will be a while before you’ll find out. It’s easy to turn the lower floors of barns into common space and the above hayloft into rooms full of bunk beds. 
- There is a set of train tracks a few miles behind your property, and you and Namjoon chart a path through the woods, drawing arrows on the trees with white spray-paint back in the direction of your farm. At the place where the forest breaks out into train tracks, you hang a sign. “Safe place for hybrids this way: free food and shelter.”  You put up a few other signs along with a shitty map that Namjoon draws at bus stops and along the bridges of major interstates.
- Namjoon rests a hand on yours as you drive away from another truck stop.  letting you know that he’s proud of you with his soft smile and his dimples poking through. You reach over prodding at them with a soft look on your own face.
- “I didn’t know you had dimples,” you say, because in truth- you don't think you've ever seen him smile so wide. he makes a noise on the back of his throat and keeps looking at you like that. 
- There might be a little bit of blush on your cheeks as namjoon keeps looking, soft and gentle, but you keep your eyes on the highway in front of you. 
- It takes a few days, but then the first few start trickling in. You think you might be a little overbearing, a little over Eger to open up your home, because the first few hybrids don’t stay for more than a meal, eyeing Namjoon and the scars on his face With wary eyes. Even if he’s just an over-excited little puppy, he is a little too intimidating looking. 
-  The disappointment when they eventually move on crushes you and Namjoon. And after a little, while he makes himself more resigned, a little colder and shyer around the other hybrids. 
- And then one afternoon while Namjoon helps you in your garden on the edge of your property (which has been completely unattended in the last month since your husband's death) you hear it, someone wading through the stream. Muted chirps of “ow ow ow- stay away from me-” Namjoon comes upon the person on the riverbank, his arm swelling from countless bee stings, face scratched up by brambles and two curved ears sitting furry in his long tangled hair.
- “I’m Taehyung,” the bear hybrid tells you as you give him an ice pack and Benadryl to put on the bee stings (which he got when he tried to raid a bees nest for its honey). He eyes the fresh teal paint and mortar dust disaster of your kitchen (in the process of being renovated and widened substantially, made larger for a future you only hope you have). 
- You feed him and give him a cleaner pair of clothes to wear. You offer him a spot in your house or in the barns after dinner, and none to surprisingly- he picks the barns. Makes him more comfortable he says, makes him feel like he’s not intruding. 
- The next day you meet him out in the field, early in the morning before the sun hangs high and shines hazy and golden. You’d been Intent on waking him for some breakfast Only to find that he’s already standing looking out over the backfield, twiddling a daisy over his fingers. Looking out in wonder at the sheer magnitude of flowers. 
- But there is a sadness and longing in his expression, Taehyung looks at everything around him that is lazily and quiet and simple and wants to be apart of it with every fiber of his being.  
- “Is it really okay if I say here more than you’ve let me? Are you sure I won’t impose at all?” he turns- half panicked with worry that you’ll turn him away. “I can help you with things around the house? To pay my rent and my food if you only let me stay- just please,” 
- You can’t help but notice the darkness in his eyes, and the paler band of skin around his neck that must have been from a collar. You don’t know what Taehyung’s coming from, but it’s obvious he needs a place to be safe, to take a rest and be still. You saw his shoes yesterday, how worn out on the bottoms they were- you don’t know how long he’s been running, but he’s certainly running from somewhere. You want to give him a space to heal a little, from whatever put that darkness in his eyes.  
- “Of course! you can stay as long as you want Tae.” Taehyung swallows past a thickness in his throat, as you both watch a little bird flicker from out of the woods and land on a nearby fence post. small and blue, it trils a brief song in search of a companion and then flutters off. (You can’t remember ever seeing a songbird on your ex-husband's property. Maybe they too have returned along with the flowers.)
- Taehyung’s hands shake as he gently tucks the daisy he cradles behind your ear, and then shyly stuffs his fists in the pockets of Namjoon’s old shorts. “No one’s called me Tae in a long long time.”
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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago
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Friends To Lovers
Summary: You were so grateful that Brian helped you in your time of need that you exclaimed you could kiss him. Instead of rolling it off as a joke, Brian did just that.
Pairing: Brian Kang x reader (ft. Wonpil)
Genre: university au / friends to lovers
Warnings: typically cliché fluff
A/N: Back when I wasn’t dreaming of Park Jinyoung daily, I had this as a dream. I didn’t think much of it but was convinced by a few friends to write it so here you go! Oh, Y/N is typically dramatic. After all, she’s based off dream me so… haha!
Word count: 2452
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“No!” you cried, your eyes wide with distraught. “No, no, no, no, no!”
“Instead of saying no, you could tell me what’s wrong so I can with panic with you or calm you down,” your friend Wonpil offered and as you started to bounce around in your chair in distress, he grew concerned. “Y/N, talk to me.”
Looking away from your phone and blinking back your tears, you stared at him desperately. “They changed the date.”
“The date?” he repeated and then let out a hiss, jumping to your side. “To when?!”
“Five pm today!” you answered, collapsing onto the top of the lecture hall’s desktop, letting out a muffled wail. “I can’t! I need more time!”
“What’s this about?”
“Y/N’s having a meltdown,” Wonpil explained sombrely to Brian as he sat down beside you, Wonpil now petting your back gently.
“About?”
You shot your head up, pouting at Brian as he pulled out his things for class. “They’ve brought the date ahead on the writing competition.”
“You wrote the story though,” he commented, shrugging off your tearful disposition as he slung his bag over the back of his chair. “So submit it and stop making a big deal about it.”
“The date was meant to be two weeks from here, Brian,” you told him, shaking with your emotions. “I wrote the story but I wanted to check over it again before submitting it. How can I do that when they’ve changed the submission date to today to suit one of the judges?!”
“Do it now,” he prompted and you nodded, reaching down for your laptop bag. Pulling it out, you were still nodding away as you pressed the power button.
Except the device didn’t turn on.
“Wait, why isn’t it working?!” you exclaimed, growing distressed again. “This cannot be happening!”
“Looks like the battery is dead,” Wonpil pointed out, his index finger outstretched to the indicator on the side. “Did you store your piece on a cloud service or something?”
“I … not the final product,” you murmured, all hope draining from you. “I had it on my computer at home, this, and my external. But I left that at home too!”
“You sent it to me to read the other day on your phone, it should still be retrievable in our chat,” Brian piped up, and giving him a grateful smile, you pulled out your phone from your pocket.
You did have the document, but making any final changes to it on your phone would be kind of dangerous. You knew it wasn’t a reliable place to try and edit from and standing up, you collected your bag in the process. “I’m going to the library.”
“Or not,” Wonpil breathed as your lecturer entered the room, her stern expression halting your plans entirely.
It seemed foolish to be this worked up over a writing competition. After all, there was no guarantee you would win just by entering. But there was still a chance and as an aspiring writer, you knew you had to give it a shot, especially with what it could potentially offer you. The prize was to be taken under a publishing house to have your manuscript produced into a novella. That would give you the first step you needed towards your dreams.
And you had lost too many nights perfecting this part of your story to share in the competition to miss out on the chance all because of a sudden date change.
Still, with the way the lecturer’s hawk-eyed gaze pierced through your out of place position, you couldn’t quite take the risk to dart out now in front of her. Sitting down jarringly, you tried your best not to break down or hyperventilate.
And then Brian swiftly started shifting things around in front of you. He took your laptop you had placed back down and put his in front of you with the document all ready to go, opening yours and pretending he was using that instead.
Glancing in his direction, he merely arched an eyebrow at you to silently ask why you were stalling and to get on with it.
Taking a deep breath, you thanked him quietly and then began your thorough final edit, unaware of anything that was happening around you. You scrolled through, corrected minor structures of some things you had since sending Brian this copy, and then you finally submitted it to the competition, your heart thudding in your chest. You had sent your precious words off and now it would be up to the universe – and a panel of judges – to decide of their worth.
You were exhausted and exhilarated in the same moment, the emotions of this afternoon being all too overwhelming to deal with.
And then you blinked slowly, realising the lecture hall was empty for all but you and Brian.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, as you looked around yourself. “How long ago did class end?”
“Twenty minutes, I think. Wonpil had another class to get to so he told me he’d message you later. Get it all submitted?”
Nodding, you slid the borrowed device over to its owner and smiled. “Thank you. Honestly, you are a lifesaver.”
“You worked too hard for it to be a missed opportunity, Y/N.”
“Exactly! I worked so hard and even with this sudden change, I’ve managed to get it done. Oh my God, I hope they love it! And if they don’t, then someone will hopefully.”
“Take the hopefully out, you’ll get there. It’s good. Real good.”
You grinned at him. “And all thanks to you, I got to submit it! Ah, I’m so excited! If I could, I would kiss you right now!”
You were buzzing from the hype of achieving a goal of yours that the words slipped out without even meaning them to. You were good friends with Brian and normally he was used to your dramatics statements. But this one stilled his movement, his dark eyes flicking back to your face.
Which turned pink under his stare. “Oh uh, well-”
“What’s stopping you then?” he murmured and you blinked rapidly. “You could.”
“Don’t be silly, it was a slip of-”
He regained the ability to move then, shifting over into your space and cupped the side of your face in his hand, kissing you softly. It stunned you for only a moment, your eyes snapping shut as your mouth moved against his. What started out gentle gained some traction and by the time he pulled away, you were both breathless.
And for once in your life, you were lost for words.
“Payment for using the laptop,” Brian announced hurriedly and you nodded just as fast, getting up and gathering your things blindly. Brian went down one side of the room and you took the other, your mind reeling from the kiss.
You had kissed Wonpil once, as a friend, and that was entirely different from this one with Brian. You were certain, for one, Brian’s tongue had found yours at some part of that kiss. Your lips had also been pressed into his for easily five times longer than your appreciative peck with Wonpil.
Still, you didn’t want to challenge the reason; rather, you were too weak to even construct the words needed to. When you got to the bottom of the stairs along the wall, you looked up at Brian waiting at the door and tripped, missing the final step and reached out for the stray chair beside them in hopes you wouldn’t fall flat on the ground.
Trust you to become just like one of your characters when they realised something about a friend.
Because you just had realised how much you liked Brian.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he came over to your side, holding out his hand for you to take so you could get up from the chair. You merely stared back at him.
You had always laughed at those stories when someone in the protagonist’s world stood out in a different way suddenly. You had many a time rolled around on your bed reading stories with Wonpil and ridiculed the notion of not being able to define someone as handsome from the get-go.
But you got it now. The dependable friend you had come to appreciate in Brian had changed with that kiss. You admired the strong shape of his nose and the unique slant to his almond eyes. Were his cheekbones always set that high and had his jaw been that handsomely shaped? Your eyes fell to his lips, those that had just been pressed against yours. Your mouth fell ajar, a short huff expelling from you and Brian smiled.
If you weren’t winded before, you were now.
“Stop being dramatic,” he told you and pulled on your hand, the force springing you up. You weren’t prepared for it and stumbled again, his other hand moving to balance you. Every place he touched you now felt on fire. And you were concerned for the remaining part of your sanity.
You weren’t meant to be thinking of Brian as ridiculously handsome now, right?
“Do you need to sit? Or drink something? Maybe I need to just leave you to it?” he offered and on the last option you shook your head, though you felt faint soon after. Gripping on more tightly, you attempted to smile.
“Why did you kiss me?” you mumbled, unable to keep quiet after all. “We’re friends.”
“Friends can kiss,” he answered slowly as you both began to walk to the exit. “Plus you said-”
“So it meant nothing? That kiss? That went for so long?”
“It meant something,” Brian confirmed and you stopped, looking up at him again. His eyes shifted to yours and he smiled that handsome smile of his. “You mean something. I didn’t just give up an entire hour of one of our hardest classes where the notes aren’t put up on the student portal because of pure friendship, Y/N. You matter.”
“Matter how?”
“Must you know everything?” he murmured and you nodded in answer, causing him to chuckle.
Your knees lost their strength.
“Of course, you need to know everything.”
“Occupational hazard, I know,” you quipped and Brian sighed. “How do I frame this in my mind, Brian? You’re telling me I matter, but I want to know if it’s okay that I’m now thinking of you in a way that a friend shouldn’t.”
“Thinking of me how?” he questioned curiously, his eyes lighting up.
You weren’t sure how much more you could take from this epiphany of finding your friend to be the type of man who could make your heart flutter this much with one look.
“I asked you first,” you responded pointedly.
“It took you so long to like me back; surely I get rights to find out more first.”
“So long?” Brian nodded and you gasped noisily. “Wait, you’ve liked me all this time?!”
“Not from the start, no,” he corrected, looking around you both at how loud your voice had risen. Thankfully classes were still in session and the hallway was mostly empty.
Still, you winced apologetically. The last thing you wanted was to bring more attention to the unfolding situation.
“But one day, I woke up and I realised I liked you. So since then.”
“You just woke up feeling that way? Had I done anything the day before to spark it?”
“No, you were just how you usually are.”
“And you simply accepted it?” you wondered and Brian chuckled again.
“It helped me understand some things about myself actually.”
“Like?”
He nudged you playfully. “I’d get annoyed with Wonpil quite often. I realised it was because I was jealous.”
“Of me and Wonpil?!” you squeaked out and then shook your head and hands repeatedly. “There’s nothing there between me and Pil. I couldn’t imagine liking him like that.”
Brian snorted. “Seems like you didn’t imagine me like that until I kissed you either.”
You fell silent, trying to decipher more of the situation. With Wonpil, you had no hesitations to be who you were. And the same could be said about Brian, but it was different. You just hadn’t put it together as well as you were now. You had always hoped Brian would see you differently than Wonpil did. Now knowing that he did, well, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face.
“I’ve kissed Wonpil.”
Brian’s teasing expression drained away. “Y-you have?”
“Mm, like I would a friend, just a little peck. Should I peck you too? Maybe you’re right; I should try and imagine him actually kissing me.”
“Or you could not,” Brian offered, causing you to laugh at him.
“You could kiss me again too,” you added and Brian didn’t hesitate to lean in and do just that.
It was brief, given you had just stepped outside and people were milling around. It was one thing to kiss on campus without a care in the world, but it was dinner time, and most people didn’t need such a display of affection before hitting up the cafeteria.
Still, you almost complained when he pulled away. Brian pushed your hair away from your face affectionately and then smiled. “How’s that?”
“Hm, I think I might need to-”
“Can you stop with the teasing and just answer me straight?” he pleaded with a laugh and you looked down to see your linked hands. You hadn’t even realised you were still holding onto him this whole time. It made you swoon, especially when he picked up on where your focus was, his thumb gently running circles into your skin.
“I like kissing you,” you admitted and Brian’s lips curled up with satisfaction. You blushed, yet you couldn’t stop smiling back. “I like you.”
“Good because it’s been hard being the only one with feelings between us. Especially when you sent me a manuscript about a couple falling in love.”
You gasped, looking at him suddenly. “You’re right, I forgot all about the competition. It feels weird to think I was so wound up over that before.”
“You were close to your ugly sobbing face for sure,” Brian pointed out and you groaned, letting go of his hand and stalking across the grass atrium.
He caught you then, pulling you back and smiled another of those handsome smiles that you were certain you wouldn’t get enough of now. “It’s a good thing I saved you from having to let it out.”
“Saved me?”
“If it wasn’t for my computer, you would have most definitely had a meltdown.”
“Would you have kissed me if I did my ugly crying face?” you asked and Brian nodded.
“I would kiss you with any chance I get.”
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untrisha · 4 years ago
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ok so i just watched the john oliver ep about how ppl are unsure if the vax is worse than covid. let me be completely candid about some of the more horrid aspects of my time during and post covid:
I literally could not breathe after walking across my 400 sq ft studio apartment. My poor puppy was so neglected in this time when I could not care for him literally. After two weeks, I was able to walk up and down the 1.5 sets of stairs that lead to my apartment WITHOUT TAKING BREAKS. which meant that I would get to my apartment and immediately crumble and hyperventilate for at least 5 minutes. It’s not a fucking great feeling thinking about how you have to go back to working full time but you can’t even manage checking your mail. 
I got covid from the family I was nannying for. We know this for sure because they ALL exhibited symptoms before I did and I had spent a 9 days alone with them in Vail before we tested positive (the only breach was them visiting friends on day 3). And they tried to still not pay me for the 10 days that are included in my fucking contract. the one their lawyer wrote up. Very soon after, they fired me for NO REASON. literally said “we’re sorry we wish we’d given you more notice” and NOTHING ELSE. it was v clearly a result of me standing up and asking for the pay i had earned.
The absolute worst side effect though: My meds stopped working. I made comments for over 2 months about how I felt like my adderall wasn’t working and that it was so strange I started feeling anxiety again after being on welbutrin for so long. I mentioned it to my aunt (a neurologist) after I finally started feeling them working again. I felt like an absolutely insane person. She said “oh yeah. that’s definitely a thing. We’re finding that covid just turns off your receptors entirely” I said “ You’re kidding me! I could’ve NOT wasted money on meds all this time!” and she said “ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!! You’re body would’ve gone into withdrawal if you just dropped everything”.... I dunno about you but it felt pretty fucked up taking meds knowing deep down they weren’t working and not even having the hope they would start working ever again. or at least in time.
Very quickly post covid, once I gained enough energy to start interacting with people or working again, it became  VERY obvious to me that I was not the person I’d been pre-covid. I’d been medicated (on meds that had  been working phenominally) for so long. I wasn’t used to the shell anymore and it became very easy to fall into deep DEEP suicidal depression. At points I would forget my keys were in my hands (relatively normal. we’ve all laughed about this) and would immediately think “I don’t know how much more I can take before I kill myself. I hate myself again” VERY DRASTIC. That’s what happens when you go off your meds completely all of a sudden. It’s absolutely not ok.
I’m EXTREMELY fortunate to have a loving and caring support system that did A LOT of work to make sure I didn’t feel alone at all (but even then I did a lot). And that’s the only thing I can attribute to my still being here. 
It’s been rough. I’m still relearning things about my “new” self. 
All of my digestive intolerences are back like they were before I built up immunity. I got a cold a while ago and straight up thought I was dying, You guys DON’T want covid. PLEASE get vaccinated. even if you can’t justify it for yourself. imagine someone catching it from you and having to go throught this. Could you live with yourself? If you gave someone covid and they beat it, but couldn’t make it past the drug immunity phase? what if they have had a lifelong battlle with depression? Do you want to help them find their last straw?
Just this once be as selfish and selfless as you need to be to do the right thing
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ottorocket808 · 5 years ago
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Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street
I wonder how they coaxed her back to Mikes house it was probably easier than I think because they’re also kids and it’s raining and cold because I’m pretty sure it’s November in Indiana. I’m just gonna say that the lunge clap isn’t the best way to tell if somebody is deaf I’m pretty sure they’re gonna flinch regardless because you lunged at them. 🤣🤣🤣 Modesty don’t exist where she’s from y’all cut her some slack. Wait is that blood? Wait it’s probably from her nose. I don’t even know where the nearest ‘nuthouse’ is why does Lucas? How did Dustin and Lucas both forget that they snuck out the house and therefore telling any adults right now would be a bad idea?
Yo Joyce is talkin about spending $2000-$3000 on missing posters and he’s in a different dimension and this is in 1983 that might as well be $20,000-$30,000 now I know my mom would know my voice anywhere they gotta stop doubting Joyce no matter what interference came down the line.
Hop and these pills are gettin on my nerves you are not House sir sidenote Hops reaction to Jonathan volunteering to go to his dads house felt like dick measuring why wouldn’t he want him to go looking for Will if seeing the cops would mean he runs again which means even longer until he comes home.
Don’t start shit with your little brother when he knows your boyfriend was in your room last night without your parents knowledge or consent Nancy. Sidenote it’ll never not be suspicious to hear your kids say ‘nothing’ together when you ask them a question.
I think Wills been missing for 2 or 3 days at this point where is he getting water? I’m pretty sure this kid is well on his way to dehydration on top of breathing in the toxic atmosphere of The Upside Down Will is a strong little dude.
I think I’ve spotted Els first Eggo that might be why she likes them so much Mike gave her her first one I mean Eggos are good but plain with no syrup no butter and lukewarm and she still likes them more than anything else. El’s hesitation towards telling any adults makes perfect sense after what happened to Benny.
Calling a lady crazy who’s kid just went missing feels a little insensitive I mean what did she do in regular my kid isn’t missing life that would make him say that?
Steve’s hair looks so much better but he’s kind of a dick because he invited Nancy to the ‘party’ not her and Barbara which isn’t really a problem is that he did it in front of her but if you pay attention to his ‘friends’ they aren’t any better in all honesty this is just a double date. Nancy’s little brother hangs out with Jonathan’s little brother all the time you’d think she’d stand up for him just because of that I mean she looks legit guilty listening to the others make fun of him I mean how many times has Jonathan been at her house to pick up Will?
Mike said damn goin to school I have girl who doesn’t think I’m weird at home.
I’m pretty sure this is what older siblings are for sharing music and teaching you the ropes to life and giving advice.
Jonathan also said damn goin to school
Lonnie still hasn’t made an appearance and his youngest son has been seen in 2-3 days he ain’t even called Joyce back and he knows that he’s missing and that there’s been full on search party and he’s been AWOL this whole time.
Where the hell did they find a Pinto? Joyce is kind of a boss she got a phone and a pack of camels for free and two weeks pay in advance.
Am I trippin or did the news call the power company a completely different name? If they did who are The Bad Men supposed to be pretending to be? I wonder why Hop didn’t notice the goop on the wood.
I need to know how them getting 3rd in the science fair was political what was their project? How does she know? It’s almost like she was about to start hyperventilating did she see him in her sleep because as much as the Demogorgon scared her I can’t imagine her looking for him on purpose. Was the baby not strapped into her car seat because Mikes mom got into the house way too fast.
I feel like Hop should be concerned that one of his officers was gullible enough to believe that anybody could survive that drop into cement I mean water.
Man these govt people suck Justice for Benny.
Lonnie doesn’t have a single picture of his kids in that house if he did his girlfriend would know who Jonathan is.
Shout out to Dustin for picking up on keywords like ‘Danger’ and El is racking up favorite character points with the double door slam topped off with the locked door El is in the lead as my favorite 2nd is a three way tie between Joyce Mike and Dustin.
Lonnie won’t be getting father of the year anytime soon but his car is sick 1972 Oldsmobile 442 I ain’t mad at it at all. I don’t know why people in small towns swear that people in the city are more ‘real’ you have bullshitters everywhere Lonnie should know he was fake In Hawkins and the only thing that changed was his address and the car he drives.
Barb wasn’t invited to the ‘party’ (double date) and Nancy knows this Steve said do you wanna come to my house not you guys y’all or any other variation. Nancy begging her to go and using Wills vigil as her suggested excuse says a hell of a lot about her character she knows that it’s only supposed to be the four of them because again this is a double date her making Barb be the 5th wheel so she would feel better sucks.
Mike choking on his milk cause he sees El coming down the stairs followed by Dustin’s ‘spasm is still funny but Nancy using Wills Vigil to sneak to see her boyfriend still rubs me the wrong way.
And that torn piece of El’s gown makes its appearance good eye Mr. Clarke.
The boys use so many words she doesn’t know I wonder how lost in conversation she was in the beginning. Dustin looked so grossed out by the spit swear part and I don’t blame him. El looked super suspicious of what Mike was saying about friends telling each other things that parents don’t know.
Parking 3 blocks away is a little excessive. Barb really should’ve just dropped her off and went home. Nancy should know her best friend well enough to know that parties aren’t her thing. Nancy likes to play stupid but she’s not she should’ve just gone by herself there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with the guy that you like but dragging your friend along is unnecessary.
Ew Hop wears tighty whiteys wait who is that lady? So I have the subtitles on and they say her name is Sandra still don’t know who she is but at least we got a name.
El’s powers are crazy strong no wonder they want her back so badly she touches the D&D board closes her eyes for a second and knows which piece is Wills. Dustin is in the drama club? I wonder if he is a lighting and sound guy. You can tell that shit just got real to these kids.
Quick question how close do the Byers live to Steve? I mean for Jonathan to hear Carol scream it’s gotta be pretty close maybe Will had to run way farther than I originally thought. Everything about Barb screams ‘I don’t wanna be here’ shorty still has her coat on she looks extra uncomfortable you can tell this isn’t her thing Barb is a better friend than Nancy deserves. She cut her hand trying to shotgun a beer to make Nancy happy and when she goes inside looking for bandages Nancy doesn’t help she stays outside and plays with her not boyfriend and his ‘friends’ There’s a strong ass lesson about peer pressure wrapped around these five. Jonathan has gotta know that this is creepy I mean he’s hiding behind a bush damn near frantically taking pictures of the popular kids having fun how’d he switch so fast from looking for his brother to this weird shit?
This is the 2nd phone Will burnt up tryna call home man they are $30 a piece man we need a better communication attempt. Ask and ye shall receive sidenote I really do like this song I wanna learn to play the intro where is the dog I know the Demogorgon didn’t eat him but he just disappears. I feel bad for Joyce she’s always alone when the weird shit happens because the Demogorgon coming out the wall like that was some scary shit and nobody but us saw it. That’s how you know she ain’t worried about somebody running off with her whip Joyce has the doors unlocked the windows rolled down with the keys in the visor.
I don’t understand why she begged Barb to go to this thing if she was gonna have sex with Steve anyway and then talking about go home how Nancy she’s supposed to be spending the night at your house to help cover the truth about what’s going on. And Barb being half stubborn half a good friend goes down to the pool to wait for her friend to finish losing her virginity so they can go Barb should’ve gone home and ignored Nancy the next day at school. How did Jonathan not hear The Demogorgon growling or Barb scream and he was what 30 ft from the pool?
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gladio-to-meet-you · 6 years ago
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Where Are You?! (ft the Chocobros and Nyx)
Here’s your angst babes, @ta-ka-shi-ma! I’m a bit mad it took me so long to get this started and finished (considering I had been working on it for a while before I replied to your ask...) but it’s done now!
As usual, let me know if any typos or grammar errors are found! It’s much appreciated and lemme know what y’all think??
~~
It had been a normal mission, an easy in, get the intel, and get out. The only concern was that you were paired up with a Glaive member that you didn’t quite get along with. Your boyfriend didn’t think much of it, he just assured you that you were one of the best so it would be easy enough for you two to accomplish and then you’d get to be spoiled for a job well done. He knew there would be radio silence once the mission was started, so he didn’t worry when he hadn’t heard from you for a while...
Ignis
He wasn’t able to see you off on your mission due to conflicting schedules, but had sent you a text to remind you to be safe. He felt bad for being busy so early in the morning but knew you wouldn’t be bothered. You had accepted that your schedules would clash at times and just rolled with it at this point. Your response consisted of telling him to not overwork himself while you were gone and to rely on Gladio and Prompto for assistance, which had him smiling softly at his phone.
By the end of the first week, he felt something was off but dismissed it as just merely missing you. You were due back a few days ago, but he knew life hardly ever went according to plan. He kept himself busy with work and probably drank more Ebony than he would admit to. He started sleeping poorly due to his worry about you, which also played a part in his Ebony intake.
The second week saw him sleeping less and spending more time awake, worrying more than he’d like to think about. He knew, he felt it in his gut, that something was definitely wrong. Even if you were delayed in returning, it shouldn’t have taken more than a week to arrive back home to report in. He didn’t know a search party had been sent out until he came upon the paperwork for it a few days afterwards. He had managed to sign off on it and not remember it.
His stomach dropped when he read over the report detailing the finding of your partner’s wounded body and with it, no sign of you. You were going to be listed as MIA until they found your body, so they were really expecting to update your status at some point to KIA and that tore him up. That explained the looks he had been getting recently, the pity, the hesitance to say anything to him outside of simple greetings. He hadn’t listened to his gut from the start and maybe if he had, you would be back by now. He threw himself into his work in his grief, giving it 110%, so he could distract himself. In the following days, he would diligently read any papers coming from Cor’s office, making sure he missed no updates on the search for you, still not sleeping regularly.
Prompto
He was actually the one to wake you up for your mission, having been unable to sleep any longer. He even prepared breakfast and had it waiting on you so you wouldn't have to rush. He also made sure you got at least three goodbye kisses before you left, making you smile in the process. He even made sure to send you a text to be safe but speedy so you would come back on time, so you two could plan your next date night. He had nothing set in stone, knowing you may end up a bit delayed or if everything went smoothly you could even arrive home earlier.
He was eagerly waiting for the end of your assignment. When the first week came to an end, he was a bit of an anxious mess. He was so sure something had happened but his concerns were waved away, saying he was just being antsy and that you would be back soon, so he was worrying for nothing. His lip was bitten to the point it was almost raw and bloody from his constant worrying. He got pulled into training and sparring with the rest of the boys pretty frequently to distract him, which worked. Until it didn't.
It was by the time the second week was ending that sparring and training stopped distracting him. He ended up needing healed more by then that the other three were ordered to stop it, they were going to run out of potions if they kept it up. A search party was planned on the down low, trying to keep Prompto from getting his hopes up or bringing his mood down even further. But he still managed to catch brief whispers of it and so he stormed into Cor's office, demanding to be added to the party. Cor hadn't wanted to give in, but ended up doing so, assigning Nyx to stick with him and keep him from doing anything stupid or suicidal.
The party found your partner badly wounded and barely clinging to life outside the city, abandoned in a ditch. It was hard to tell if they were dumped or just happen to fall into it themselves. Nyx had to hold Prompto back from jumping down your partner’s throat for an update on your status, saying that rescuing them was more important right now because if they lived, they’d have some sort of information or an update about you. However, your partner didn’t make it back to the city and he was beyond devastated. He let out a wailing roar and turned to take him anger out on the closest object to him, which happened to be Nyx. The older Glaive member let his hit land and watched as his face crumpled and tears started falling. He waved the other members ahead to report in and to get the body to the morgue while he steered Prompto home, making sure to keep an eye on him as he was feeling partially responsible for the reaction he was dealing with.
Noctis
Like Ignis, he had been unable to see you off, but not because he was busy working. You knew he had gotten back late, so you didn’t bother to wake him up, just left a little note telling him you’d be back when it was over and to try not to overwork himself or to let himself sleep the time off he had away. He smiled softly at the note when he found it and set it back on the nightstand. He was a bit pouty since you didn’t wake him, but he pushed that aside to get ready and go about his Princely duties.
When you weren’t back by the date you had told him, his stomach seized a bit and his mood plummeted. He knew, logically, that you were probably just delayed in returning, but he had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He brushed it aside for the more logical side, knowing Ignis was probably right when he told him not to worry. Ignis was never wrong about these things, so he focused on his job, making sure to perform them to the best of his ability so you wouldn’t have cause to scold him when you were back.
He awoke at the end of the second week and felt ill, fear freezing the blood in his veins and his depression taking over. It was a chore just to get out of bed to get ready for his day. Prompto had arrived to escort him to work, since the trio was taking turns to make sure he wasn't wallowing in his fear and worry or letting his depression get the best of him. Once at his desk, and going through his papers for the day, his head darted up so he could find Ignis as soon as he read that you were being deemed as MIA, his eyes wide.
He was out of his chair and subsequently his office moments later, ignoring his friend trying to stop him. He was close to hyperventilating when he arrived at Cor's office and barged in, ignoring that there was someone already in there. Cor dismissed the Glaive member he had been talking to immediately after taking one look at Noctis. He stomped over to the desk, slamming his hands down onto it as he breathed heavily, demanding that he keep searching for you. He would accept no less than you being brought home and he would fight to see it done. You were his other half and there was a gaping hole in his life, his heart, with your absence. Without giving Cor a chance to rebut it or even reply, he turned and stormed out. That night it was a fight to get him out of his office and to go back home, his grief was starting to set in at the loss of you and his depression flared up terribly. The following days, weeks even, he didn't get out of bed for much unless Gladio was there to physically drag him from it.
Gladio
He had seen you off for your mission by giving you a tight hug and a couple kisses, telling you to come home safe. He could still see the face you had made in his mind at that statement, eyes sparkling with excitement and your lips turned up in a half smirk, half smile combination that was unique to you. You had told him that you would be back before he could fully miss you with his busy schedule. You had made the same promise before going on much more dangerous missions, so he accepted it without batting an eye.
The first week you were gone, he didn’t really have any time to miss you. He was kept busy with training some of the new Kingsglaive members for Cor and then when he wasn’t doing that, he was following Noctis around to be his bodyguard/Shield. It was only at night, in the few minutes he laid awake in bed before his exhaustion drug him to sleep that he missed you the most.
The second week passed by at a crawl for the entire Amicitia household. Iris was more inconsolable than Gladio himself was because she was attached to you as an older sister figure and she couldn’t handle you being missing. Gladio pushed his feelings aside to console his sister and try to bolster her spirits about it. He wasn’t going to accept that you were gone and he joined a scouting party to go looking for you and your partner. He shouldn’t have been allowed to join but his dad and even Noctis backed the decision so Cor had no choice but to grudgingly allow it.
He could swear his heart shattered when they found your partner’s body lying in a ditch. There were multiple stab wounds and each one cut deeper than the other, knowing you were probably just as injured! He felt a calm rage settle in him, his heart eerily calm. His blood felt like ice in his veins and his face was void of any emotions. Prompto, who had chosen to go along with the Shield, placed a hand on his arm, the blonde’s face twisting with fear and grief for his friend. The search party returned, bringing your partner’s body back for burial, and reported their findings to Cor and subsequently Regis and Clarus, who were there when they arrived. Clarus’s heart sunk for his son and he fought to keep his face impartial but whispered to Cor to keep a close eye on Gladio because he wasn’t likely to leave it at this. He took his rage out by training constantly when not guarding the Prince, withdrawing from his friends and family, and he did refuse to accept that you were just gone.
Nyx
He saw you off with a tight hug and a sweet kiss, wringing a promise to return home safely from you. He wasn’t worrying, not yet, not until more time had passed, but he was kicking himself for not asking the other member to switch with him. It would’ve been much better than being left behind and waiting for your return. Even when he was on a guard shift or had to go on his own missions, his thoughts would still drift to you and hoping everything was progressing smoothly for you.
By the time a week had passed, he was starting to worry. He could feel that something was wrong, but since your partner hadn’t returned yet to deliver any news, his concern was mostly waved away as just him missing you. Which wasn’t a lie...but he didn’t have concrete proof to back up his words.
When the second week came to an end, he knew for a fact something was wrong. This time, when he voiced his worries to Cor, he was taken seriously. A small search party was organized, with Nyx volunteering immediately. He was stared down by Cor in his office as he considered it. The only thing he was told in response was a stern “Don’t go making this a suicide mission, no matter what is found”. The search party found your partner, dead, outside the city, so you were automatically thought of as dead too.
His heart broke at the statement from Axis and he refused to believe it. He actually ended up attacking his teammate in a fit of rage. Crowe had to pull them apart and stand between them before ordering Axis to head back to report to Cor ahead of them, so she could stay with Nyx and try to calm him down, her heart breaking for her friend and for the loss of another. Cor pulled him from the mission roster, giving him time to grieve, but he didn’t take it well. He blew up at him and got suspended after his grievance period was over. He refused to accept that you were just gone like that, with no warning, no sort of sign from the Six.
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blehbleehhhh · 6 years ago
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Panic Attack ft. Eremika<3
A/N: I cried a little bit while writing this one! Hahha. I don’t know, I imagine Mikasa having horrific anxiety. They're just so easy to write for <3 Anyway, the original is on my Wattpad: loldonutsss . I have an Eremika series going right now (: LEMON!
When Eren and Mikasa were little, she always struggled with nightmares. His parents had agreed to allow them to share a bed so he could comfort her if need be. When she turned 10 though, they seemed to get worse, and even he couldn't soothe her, at least just by holding her. Carla used to draw her a bath when they got really bad and it worked like a charm; the warm water would soothe her tiny, achy frame enough that she would finally fall asleep when she'd returned to bed. When his mother passed away and his father left, because he was unable to cope with the traumatic loss of his wife, Eren took over the task of drawing Mikasa a bath for her nightmare induced panic attacks. When they finally started dating, he took to holding her in the shower in a desperate attempt to calm her. This is what he's currently doing, because it felt like someone was puncturing her brain with an ice pick.
Mikasa had woken him up in the night, around 3:30 am to be exact, sobbing in her sleep and crunched up in a fetal position. He’d wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair as he held her tighter. He tried whispering sweet nothings in her ear, stroking her hair, everything that she usually finds to be comforting; but none of it seemed to be working. That's how they ended up in the shower at 4:00 am. That's how he ended up holding her as she sobbed into his neck, lathering her body with her lavender body wash, and even used it on himself so she could breathe in the soothing scent whenever she has her face buried in his neck. Eren gently rubbed his hands on her warm, soft skin to rinse off the suds, gently combing his fingers through her long, black hair. Mikasa took a deep breath in attempt to fight off the hyperventilating as quietly as she could into his chest, occasionally pressing her lips to his skin to muffle her cries. After a while of winning and losing the fight against her own mind, she rests her forehead on his shoulder, using her coping skills to slowly settle her hysterics. She was finally relaxing, soothed from the hot water running down her back, the scent of her favorite body wash, and, of course, his touch. Eren just stood there quietly, slowly rubbing his thumbs across her hips. She sighed deeply in attempt to stop even out her heartbeat and eventually succeeded, letting out another shaky sigh before she finally looked up into his eyes. He offered a slight smile and reached up to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Even your tear stricken face is absolutely breathtaking." Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips as she slowly closed the gap between them. Mikasa slid her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen their kiss, pleased to feel his hands press into her low back. She often finds herself feeling horny after crying her eyes out, which almost always resulted in a very much welcomed situation such as this. Eren tasted the saltiness of her tears on his tongue as he returned her frantic kisses and quickly concluded that she must have had that nightmare again. They only pulled away when the need to breathe was too overwhelming to ignore; creating a sweet, sticky, passionate smack. "How do you feel?" he whispered to her as she leaned her forehead against his.
“I-I..." Her voice was soft, yet it conveyed that she'd been crying.
And it broke his heart.
"Mikasa..." Eren whispered as he slid a hand up her back and sunk his fingers in her hair. "I love you so so much." She pursed her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek and crashed her lips against his, sighing softly into his mouth as she melted in his arms. Mikasa quickly found herself to be completely lost in him as she always is, tears still invading their kiss. He slowly pulled away and buried his face in her chest, nibbling, licking, and kissing her skin as he did everything he could think of to drive her wild. Eren's teeth grazed her skin as he took her nipple in his mouth to tease it with his tongue. Mikasa moaned and gently gripped his hair between her fingers as she held his head against her, sighing happily when he began to suck. He groaned when she involuntarily ground her hips into his and slowly brought his hands down her back to grab onto her ass.
"I need you..." Mikasa’s voice indicated urgency and desperation as she quickly turned in his arms to latch onto the shower bar. She eagerly spread her legs for him and moaned when he teased her with the head of his cock. Eren leaned down and kissed her back as he placed his hands on her hips, slowly burying himself deep inside her heat. "Erennn.." She moaned softly in response when his hips began to move in a steady rhythm and pulled hers into him. Mikasa almost collapsed from the pleasure; the confirmation her psyche needed that he’s still alive and the overwhelming endorphins coursing through her body immediately sent her over the edge. He wrapped his arm around her lower abdomen and briefly slammed her hips up and down his throbbing cock, sending her into a fit of gasps and whimpers as she hung her head. "Faster!" Eren smiled against her skin and groaned in response, pulling her hips into his faster until she let out the most intoxicating sound; the sweet combination of a yelp and a moan. It wasn't long until he felt her walls quiver around him as she came with a soft cry. He groaned and slowed his pace in a desperate attempt not to cum before she had at least one more orgasm, because the sounds she's making are driving him wild and she just feels so fucking good.
"I love you, Miki..." Eren whispered to her as he dug his fingertips into her skin and just as abruptly started slamming into her, pushing and pulling her hips so they had a steady rhythm. She trembled as she slapped a hand on the wall to maintain her balance and moaned helplessly. But something in her broke in that same instant and Mikasa cried out with pleasure as she felt her body begin to release.
"Oh my god, Eren! Don't stop!" She sounded as if she were on cloud nine as he pumped into her with fervor. Mikasa arched her back as she let out a loud moan and came around him, hard. But he kept going, oh, he kept going, and her moans quickly turned into high pitched cries. Eren grunted all the while as he rode her through her climax and finally allowed himself to reach his own, slamming into her one last time as he emptied his load deep inside her womb. He kissed her back and snaked his arms around her waist as they both struggled to catch their breaths, turning his head to kiss the side of her neck. Mikasa's body relaxed in his arms as she leaned back into him and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Better?"
"So much," Mikasa sighed with contentment as he held her tighter. "Thank you..." He smiled against her skin and gently nibbled on her neck. Eren turned towards the shower head as he dropped one arm from her waist and reached down to turn the water off.
"Oh, believe me, Mika," Eren smiled as he tugged open the shower curtain and pulled two towels out from a clean pile of laundry. "That was entirely my pleasure." For the first time since she woke up crying, Mikasa gave him a chuckle as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips and handed her a towel. He tied one around his waist before he stepped out of the shower and reached for her favorite short, red robe, that truly has seen better days. She had hair wrapped in a towel when he turned around to look at her, relieved to see a smile on her face, the same smile that he's always loved. Eren held his hand out to assist her out of the shower and into her robe. "You look stunning in that shade of red..." She secured it on her waist and placed her hands on his chest.
"Remember when you told me that you wanted to take care of me, instead of the other way around?"
"Pshh, I'd never say anything like that to you." Eren scooped her up in his arms and paused at the bathroom door so she could switch off the light. He smiled when her sweet, soft lips kissed his cheek.
"You're full of it," Mikasa chuckled softly in his ear as she lay her head on his bicep and gazed up at him. "Eren, I know I say this..." she giggled as her back hit the sheets and he crawled up her body. "I know I say this all the-" Eren smiled as he interrupted her with his lips and kissed her passionately. Mikasa wrapped her arms around his neck and eagerly returned the favor as she slid her hands through his damp, brown locks. He slowly pulled away and smirked when she flashed her beautiful smile. "Youtakereallygoodcareofme!" she rushed to say before their lips collided once more and moaned softly into his mouth as he slid a hand along one of the legs she has wrapped around his waist. Eren abruptly pulled his lips away from hers and buried his face in her neck, focusing his tender kisses here instead. She let out a quiet gasp as he lightly nibbled on the spot. "Mm, that's nice..." her stomach fluttered when she felt his lips smirk on the middle of her neck.
"Your skin is so soft," He whispered as he suckled on her skin and smirked inwardly when her fingers gripped his hair. "I could do this all day."
"I mean, I'm certainly not going to prevent you from doing that.." Mikasa bit her lip as she watched him push her robe open to expose her chest and place his hands on her breasts, kneading them gently with his fingers. Eren took his time kissing down her chest and paused to look into her eyes for permission before untying her robe. She pressed her lips together as she nodded her head and smiled when he leaned in to kiss her softly, his hands working quickly to tug the knot apart, slowly trailing kisses down her body. He slipped his arms under her thighs to pull her closer to his eagerly waiting mouth and smirked when she shuddered from his touch.
"Mikasa," Eren whispered as he kissed her inner thighs and french kissing her slit. "I think I know which nightmare you had." He looked up at her and smiled when her eyes finally met his. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. You won't get rid of me that easy." Eren dove into the sweet spot between her legs, causing her hips to involuntarily jerk into his mouth as he licked her clit. He used his fingers to keep her slippery pussy lips apart and continued to rapidly flick his tongue across the swollen nub until her hips twitched in response; immediately ceasing his ministrations to allow her body to collapse on the bed from the pleasure. "Besides..." he slid his hands around to her inner thighs and smiled as he slipped two fingers inside her. "We have a family to raise someday and grandchildren and great grandchildren to look forward to." Eren wiggled his fingers as he licked and kissed all around her delicate folds, causing her to let out a wide array of pleasurable noises; melting into the sheets as he ate her out. Mikasa cried out his name when he made her cum and held her breath as he continued to work her clit with his tongue. She arched her back as his fingers moved faster; clenching the sides of his head with her thighs. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
"Oh, god, yes!" Mikasa clawed at the sheets as her body writhed from his incessant touches, and he slid his arms back under her thighs to hold her still against his mouth. He sealed his lips around her clit and gently bit down with his teeth as he suckled on her pussy. "Erenn!" she quickly came with a mix of a cry and whimper as he sunk his tongue inside of her, drinking in her fluids when she. Mikasa collapsed on the bed once more, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she recovers from her multiple orgasms. Eren kissed up her torso as he reached down to fix her robe and rolled off of her to lie on his back, stretching an arm out for her to curl up into him. She happily allowed her body to relax in his arms as she cuddled into his side and smiled when he tugged the blankets over their bodies. "You were right."
"Wow," Eren chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you've ever said something so erotic." she giggled and flicked his chin with her finger.
"Be quiet."
"Fine, fine. Please, do continue to tell me about how right I am."
"It was the nightmare you were thinking of."
"The one where -" Eren didn't need to bother finishing that question, because the way her hand slid across his chest and the way she nuzzled the crook of his neck told him what he already knew. "Mikasa..." he paused as soon as he felt her tears on his shoulder. "Miki, look at me," his heart sank when the same sorrowful eyes from just hours before carefully studied his. "Nothing is going to happen to me. Not if I can help it." Mikasa bit her lip as a tear rolled down her cheek.
He doesn't understand.
He doesn’t understand.
"Eren," her voice cracked as she lay her head on his chest, because looking at him makes it more difficult and she needs to hear his heart beating like a normal heart, not like the one nightmare she had where it was so slow, that she could barely hear it. "It's not just that. The way you died was so incredibly brutal and I-" she took a shaky deep breath and sighed. "I couldn't do a n y t h i n g. It was like time froze when that...that thing tore you to pieces." Eren held her tighter and gently placed his hand on Mikasa's cheek, slowly running his fingers through her long, black hair. "I remember exactly what the dream version of me felt, Eren, and it seemed so fucking real. I remember holding my breath and taking off after it not even giving a shit about my own safety because the thought of you dying is simply too hard for me to grasp. I can’t live the way I’m supposed to; happy, satisfied, loved, supported, without you, Eren. I-I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, I-I’d never be the-” Her body shook as she remembered the nightmare and just how bloody, violent, and gory it was. His arms squeezed her tighter as he kissed her forehead.
"Hey, hey, hey," Eren whispered to her as he planted another kiss on her forehead. "You beautiful, incredible woman..." he smiled and leaned his cheek on her head. "We don't even need to start worrying about living without the other for a very, very long time, right?" Mikasa took in another shaky breath and sighed quietly into his chest. "Remember when I said we'll always be together?" she hummed softly in response and yawned. "Then you have nothing to worry about."
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Eren."
"You'd still suck."
"Eh, what can you do," Mikasa chuckled as she softly kissed his neck."I only suck because you like it." Eren let out a mix of a groan and a chuckle as he pictured her blowing him expertly. Holding her hair in his fist to prevent it from getting in her mouth..
"Eh, what can you do."
"Eren."
"Mika."
Her giggle. It's so refreshing.
"I hate you."
"Honestly, Miki, same." Eren chuckled as he looked down beside the bed when a very cold, wet nose bumped into his hand, and gently gave Mikasa's hip a pat or two in order to coax Isla up on the bed. "Isla, come here girl." she put her paws on the bed and quickly pulled herself up. The puppy crawled across his stomach and plopped down in the space between their feet at the end of the bed, taking a big sigh as she settled in. "So, you see, I have class in a couple hours, but the problem is..." he trailed off as she lifted her head enough to press her lips to his for a quick kiss. "I don't want to leave my beautiful minx of a fiancée."
"I'd be pissed if you stayed home," Mikasa propped herself up on her elbow and smiled. "But I'll be here eagerly waiting for your return..." she slid her hand up his chest and cupped his cheek as she slowly brought their lips together. He groaned into their kiss when her teeth grazed his lower lip and her fingers gently tugged on his hair. Fuck she's so hot! Fuck she's so hot! Eren blindly placed his hand on her breasts and squeezed until she broke her lips away to let out a moan.
"Mikasa," Eren chuckled as he nibbled on her neck. "You're making that decision a lot more difficult. I'd prefer to stay here and just..." he gently tweaked her nipple and smirked when moaned softly. "...play with you." she giggled as she playfully slapped his hands away and rolled over onto her stomach with an over dramatic yawn. Eren smiled as he reached over to dust the hair out of her face. "Well, you didn't have to stop."
"No, Eren," Mikasa’s voice conveyed an amused smile. "You don't want me to touch you so you can have an easier time choosing class and that's totally fine." she bit her lip to conceal her quiet laugh when she felt his arm slide across her back and curve around to pull her body into his. Eren chuckled as he buried his face in her hair.
"Can you really blame me? You're a million times more entertaining and pretty and funny and smart and-" Eren trailed off and smiled when she let a quiet giggle as she pulled the blankets up to her shoulder and scooted back into him. "I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me, Mikasa, it's kind of rude."
"Shut up, Eren." he could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. "I love you." she whispered when she felt his lips curve into a slight smile on her neck as he slowly took a deep breath and sighed. Eren held her tighter in response as he lightly kissed her skin, knowing that his gestures alone are always enough for her to know how he feels without actually needing to hear those words from his mouth.
I love you too, Miki. More than words can say.
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dandyfics · 5 years ago
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taste ; lee minho ☆
━━☆
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— summary: as many say, even the smallest things can create small clusters of happiness. what if that happiness comes from somewhere familiar? perhaps the local creamery you’ve grown too fond of?
— genre: fluff, a whole lot of fluff, ft. other skz members — pairings: ice-cream boy!minho x office worker!reader — word count: 2.6k — warnings: explicit language, cursing 
— author note: beware of spelling & grammar errors ! this was based on some random sub reddit so uhm– it doesn’t really have a theme ?? but i hope you enjoy my first **published** fic nonetheless bubs ! and of course, gender neutral !
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You hate Mondays. The endless demands from your co-workers to grab some coffee, the hideous traffic anywhere you go, your boss shouting like a bewildered orangutan, and of course the ravenous feeling that washes in your stomach. You fear that you’re not going to make it by the time lunch break rolls in.
Obviously, this doesn’t only apply on Mondays. But the fateful day decided to be a special snowflake to you and your work ethic, which makes it ten times shittier than any other day. Not to mention the hefty piles of paperwork that you need to finish at home before August. A year into the work experience in Seo’s Publishing & Co. and you still struggle to get that promotion you’ve been opting since January. At least they pay you well.
But you weren’t alone on that exact Monday. Summer and it’s endless supplies of heat waves decided to enter your life before you even know it. As Han Jisung likes to say, what a great time to be alive. Not.
“It’s so fucking hot.” Felix limps on his desk chair, frantically fanning himself with a big blue binder. You, on the other hand, already prepared long before with two hand fans screeching atop your desk. “Why is the AC off?”
“Because Mr. Seo said ‘fuck global warming’, which is ironic since his office has two air conditioners that are always on,” Kim Seungmin says, plopping on his chair before turning on his brand new industrial fan that he keeps on bragging about since the beginning of July, claiming that he’s got the weather ‘under control’. Felix doesn’t respond at this rate, instead, he oggles weirdly at the fan Seungmin got from God-knows-where.
You groan miserably. “Turn that damn thing off, you’re perpetuating hot air onto my face.”
“I’ll do that. Once Jisung stops wasting all the cold air from the fridge.”
“I swear to God, Han. If you eat my frozen waffle once again.” Typical Felix who will always protect his food. That kid will protect his cream cheese bagel even if WWIII decided to occur.
Jisung frowns childishly. “It’s just too hot. I’m evaporating, literally.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m in the room.” Hwang Hyunjin merrily waltzes into the conversation, earning a few annoyed gazes and grouses from his co-workers.
“Choke on a baguette.” Seungmin grunts, throwing a crumpled printer paper at him. “Your presence isn’t needed here anymore, not after that promotion of yours.” Hyunjin smiles smugly, taking a sip from his ‘Best Uncle’ coffee cup. 
Yearly promotions have gotten a toll on you, ever since Hyunjin got his place as the assistants’ assistant, he’s been moved to the 3rd-floor cubicle; located right next to the main office, which – you’ve guessed it – is completed with a working air conditioner. Big headed Hyunjin has and will never stop mentioning it. ‘We’ll stay together till one of us gets fired’ my ass.
“You’re just jealous because I earned that cool cubicle on the 3rd floor. Unlike y’all peasants who rely on factory industry fans.” Hyunjin scoffs, emphasizing on the last sentence. Seungmin chokes on his coffee mug.
“You got a problem with Becky?”
“It has a name?” Jisung half-whispers at you, earning a shrug.
“Shut up, Hyunjin, just go back to your fancy little office and do your five stacks of paperwork that you haven’t touched since last week.” You quip, earning a high five from Felix. “Oh, and neither your niece nor nephew likes you, Hwang.”
Hyunjin gasps dramatically, hiding his graphic cup from your sight. “How DARE you.” Jisung cackles his ass off as if he’s enjoying some random Netflix show, watching Hyunjin as he takes an indignant sip from his cup whilst trying to explain that his niece just ‘mildly dislike him and nothing more’. You – being the only one with a sane state of mind – take a glance at the clock.
“Oh, shit. It’s already 12.” You murmur. “Anyone down to get out and grab lunch? I’m not talking to you, Hyunjin.” Felix goes in for another cheeky high five as Hyunjin flouts.
Seungmin pushes his glasses from the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Look, Y/N. As hungry as I am, I’m not going to burn into a crisp of bacon outside in this weather.” He retorts, continuing on his Pdf file. “Fun fact, it’s almost 34° Celcius outside. I’d rather starve to death than sweat to death.” Jisung sheepishly agrees, engulfing in the cold fridge air.
You turn to Felix sympathetically, expecting him to join you. “Can’t you see that I’m hyperventilating?” Felix whines like a wet dog, thudding his head repeatedly on his messy desk. You click your tongue at the pathetic sight.
“Okay, so no one’s gonna join me?” You ask for the last time. Rethinking again about getting burned in the midst of the July air. Was it worth it? Should you really drag one of your co-workers in the ungodly weather?
Silence.
You huff, disappointed lacing your features as a genius idea draws onto your mind. “Well, I’m heading to the creamery near the park. Don’t come at me trying to get a lick from my rocky-road cone.”
“Shit, ice cream sounds great right now!” Jisung squeaks from the floor.
“Please, Y/N, can you get me the mint chocolate one? I need something to cool me off.” Felix jolts from his seat seemingly refreshed and youthful again. Seungmin cheers from his desk, presumably also in the mood for something cold and creamy. Hyunjin screeches like a pterodactyl from the corner of your eye, screaming something about chocolate.
Your co-workers haven’t really grown up, have they?
“Suddenly I’m your servant? Nice try.” You reply playfully, raising an eyebrow at your half-melting co-workers. They all groan in unison. “Nothing is free. Everything comes with a pri–”
Jisung surges from his butt. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you dinner. Chinese at that place you always wanted to visit!” He offers, making the others try to think of a better deal than his. “Only if you get me the cheesecake ice cream.”
Seungmin follows up. “Y/N, if you get me a cup of cookies and cream, I’ll finish reviewing that book for you. Oh, and also a stack of your paperwork. What do you say?” Jisung boos at Seungmin’s boring choice of flavor.
“I’ll give you a foot massage!” Felix adds.
“Tempting.” You snicker smugly before turning to Hyunjin. “Aren’t you going to offer me something, Hwang? Anything?”
Hyunjin avoids eye contact with you before crooning. “Fine, I’ll give you a ride in my convertible for the rest of the month.” You mentally tap yourself in the back for getting great deals just for a bucket of cheap ice cream. Drastic time does require drastic measures, they say. You grab your bag and walk towards the elevator with a jolly good feeling.
“You all got yourself a deal. Better be ready for that foot massage, Lix.”
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Dori Creamery. The sweet scent of vanilla and cream whiffs onto you as you walk near the entrance. You spent almost all of your college days being a customer in the said creamery. The place is medium sized, petite but fancy. The light neapolitan colors being the aesthetic of the shop brings back all the memories. You recall the seconds when you had your first date, celebrating your graduation with a cup of mango-sorbet, and your heartbreak spent accompanied by a tube of berry delight.
You liked the place. No, you loved the place. Hints of nostalgia always hit you whenever you enter the calming aura of the room, only this time, the creamery is packed with people. And not just any people; sweaty, loud, body-odor inducing people.
You managed to squeeze in the back of the line, avoiding the nasty body-sweat that lingers around. You can also go to another shop, but hey, where’s the fun in that? If you can’t even get some ice cream, what’s even the point?
“Excuse me, coming through.” You mumble as some guy nearly bumps you out of the line. The whiff of wind in the room is prominent, but the body heat everyone seems to be sharing nearly evaporates you apart.
You opted on scrolling through your phone while you wait for the person at the very front to make up their mind about ‘I’m on a low sugar diet but I really want to try the strawberry shortcake, should I?’. After a while, the line started to dry out, until there’s only you and a few others before you.
Everything was fine and dandy until you feel a force coming from beside you, nearly shoving you down to the floor. “Hey, what the hell?” You scold. A woman suddenly stands in front of you, cutting your precious time and line.
“I’m in a hurry.” She claims, whipping her head to decide on her order.
If you’re in a hurry why the fuck did you stop for ice cream?  A rasp of vexation coils in you, leaving you to do nothing but scowl at the woman. The heat isn’t helping either. A part of you wanted to flip everything off – including the woman – but you remind yourself that you’re no cavemen and it’s just some ice cream, it’s no big deal.
You couldn’t do much but sigh and wait for your turn, hoping that no one else would do something as ignorant as she did. Not even a single sorry? Great, just what you needed.
The woman finally decided on a pistachio order and storms off with a receipt in one hand and a double-scoop cone on the other. You irkly glance before walking towards the counter, repeating the order in your head.
“Uh, hi. I would like a cone of–”
“Rocky road with whipped cream?”
“Yeah, that. And– wait, how did you know?” You eyed the cashier, who’s smiling meekly at you. Nearly staring in awe, you almost forget about the whole order after meeting the enthralling smile painted on his face. “Do I… know you?”
He chuckles lightly, handing his co-worker a slip of paper. “No, it’s just that you always order that. Don’t you ever get bored of it?”
“It’s too good to be bored with.” You say, beaming idly. Finally, a nice–decent human being with good manners. “So, you’re not new here?” You mention, raising an eyebrow. The boy beams, reminding you of the Cheshire Cat – mere charisma laced in his smile. 
He shakes his head, denying your question. “Actually, I own this place.”
Your eyes widen. “Really? How come I’ve never seen you before?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” The boy teases. “I mostly work at the kitchen, perfecting my secret recipe. But I always know my customers.” He playfully answers. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, I added your order to that woman’s receipt. Can you imagine cutting a line just for a cone of caramel and pistachio?” Your eyes widen. Not so sweet after all, huh?
“Wh– isn’t that illegal or some shit?” You ask, worrying that your favorite ice cream parlor will shut down because of the FBI finding out about your stupid cone of rocky road. The boy shrugs innocently.
“Not if you don’t get caught.” He winks.
You scoff, an unfamiliar feeling clusters in your stomach, just like the thrill of first crushes but with a different – slightly bizzare taste. “I’m still ordering something else, though. Tell me, is the rocky road free?” You ask, still unsure of what just happened. Free ice cream isn’t something you get every day, come to think of it. He pretends to think for a while before nodding.
“But,” He says. “You have to do me a favor in return.” You raise your eyebrow, preparing yourself for any stupid favor he has in mind. The blossoming feelings doesn’t stop pounding in you, and suddenly it’s middle school all over again. “How about your number? That seems fair, yeah?” He smiles coyly. You snort.
“Sir, am I hearing things wrong or are you flirting with me?”
“Well, do you want your precious rocky road cone or not?” He playfully sniggers at you. You cognitively slap yourself back alive, lured in by his small tricks. You had no choice, do you? Hey, at least the boy’s cute.
You grab a piece of tissue from the counter without answering. “Do you have a pen?” Handing you a pen, he rests his head on top of his palm, watching you write down your number carefully – trying not to rip the tissue or create a hole. He smirks in satisfaction, watching you as your face washes in a flustered demand. “What’s your name?”
“Minho. Lee Minho.”
“As in the actor? Wow, I’ve never thought he’ll be selling ice cream downtown.”
“I wish.” You giggle at his response, handing him the nearly ripped tissue paper. 
“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. Minho slides the paper on his pocket, handing you a cone of rocky road with whipped cream and sliced strawberries on top as an extra dressing. “Thanks, I’m also ordering two medium buckets of cookies and cream with chocolate and mint-choco with blueberry cheesecake. No toppings, please.” You finally excecute the order after countless unsuccessful rehearsals in your head.
Minho writes down the order before sliding the paper towards his co-worker who seems to be wiggling his eyebrows from your view. “Wow, that’s a lot to eat in one sitting. No toppings?” You shake your head again.
“It’s for my co-workers. Oh, and spit on the chocolate one, if you may.”
“Kinky, but it’s not something I’ve never tried before,”
“I’m just kidding, geez.” You huff, trying to hide the bubbling smile as you wonder, trying to imagine what happened to occur that precise course of action.
“You work at the publishing company now, huh?” He asks, pointing at your nametag as he passes your two buckets of ice cream. You nod enthusiastically. “I remember you coming here late at night in your pajamas doing calculus while shoving cookie dough up to your face. Good times.”
A coral blush crept from your cheeks. “Okay, now you just sound creepy.”
“Well,” He says, his face panning closer to you as you flinch back in surprise. “I’d like to stay and chat, Y/N. But you’re holding the line.” Minho reminds you, cocking his head towards the line. “Let’s continue some other day, yeah?”
You glance at the clock and then at the line behind you. “Oh shit, you’re right.” Clicking your tongue, you mention silently. Disappointed that you have to go back to your crusty co-workers, who’s probably whining over the fact that you’re still not back yet. “How much for the two tubes?”
“Twenty five.” He answers watching you run swiftly through your wallet. “But if you’re willing to go to dinner with me next Saturday, it’s free.” Minho says. Your heart does a cartwheel as you stare into the boy, wiggling his eyebrows at you. What more can you ask from a good looking guy like him? Cheeky bastard.
“How can I say no to that?” The coral blush that tinges on your cheeks fades into a deep red. “To be honest, I’m baffled. You sure know a lot about me, but I don’t know much about you, Minho.”
He hums. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”
“You got yourself a date, Mister. Now if you’ll excuse me, someone at the office owes me a foot massage.” Minho winks one last time before you leave the ice cream parlor.
With heart in your hand and ice cream in the other, you walk out the creamery with a delighted feeling. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll melt away like ice cream in scorching hot weather if you think about the ice cream boy too much.
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lazyfox411 · 5 years ago
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Spiderman: Afraid of Water (ft. Irondad)
im back from the dead yall with a fic i promised @spiderling-the-meme​ a long time ago and never ended up finishing until now. 
Length: 1904 words (a short boi)
Prompt: i honestly dont even remember what the actual prompt was my dude i just know you asked for peter being afraid of water after his experience of being dumped in a lake by the vulture and tony accidentally triggering that fear while theyre on vacation with irondad and spiderson feels so….thats basically what this is lol
Peter used to enjoy long showers. A relaxing flow of warm water, clouds of steam, and the fresh scent of soaps and shampoos. It was all enjoyable. Key word being was.
               Now, stepping under that warm stream meant reliving. This water was warm, but not all water was warm. This water didn’t surround him like a dark wall of nothingness, but some water had. He could still breath under the shower water, didn’t sink into what seemed like an endless abyss, but that wasn’t true for all water.
               Being in the water meant reliving. Reliving the night he’d been dumped in a lake and left to die, the glow of the Vulture’s eyes still refracting through the ripples. He hadn’t given it a second thought at first, but then he’d notice hid heart rate going up, the hairs on his arms raising, his breath getting short. He’d pinned it on the spidey-senses, some sort of danger near by, only he couldn’t seem to find anything wrong. It only dawned on him when he looked at all the places it reoccurred: the beach, the rain, the shower. He was afraid of the water.
               So now, Peter took shorter showers. Just to get clean, not to relax. When Aunt May offered to take him to the beach, or the pool, he politely passed. He didn’t go out in the rain unless he had to, and never without an umbrella. And no one questioned it.
               Today there were no clouds looming over the city, so Peter decide he would be safe without an umbrella. If anything, it would be snowing today; with winter temperatures blowing in earlier than usual.
               Peter stared out the window whenever he could at school that day, not to watch the weather, but rather to avoid watching the whiteboard at the front of the class. School seemed so boring now that he was Spiderman, but he had promised Aunt May and Mr. Stark that grades would come first. He might have had his fingers crossed when the subject of precalculus came up.
               “Mr. Parker,” droned the precal teacher, Mrs. Traff, a middle-aged woman with wrinkled hands and massive red glasses, “since you’re not paying attention, I can only assume you already know the material?” Her voice didn’t waver, but her sharp eyes pierced through him.
               “Absolutely,” Peter lied, hoping his voice didn’t squeak.
               “Then perhaps you’d like to provide an answer for question number two?”
               Peter nodded, slowly, as if buying time would help him in the slightest. He saw Ned waving at him from the corner of his eye, mouthing something that looked like ‘five’.
               “Five,” he answered.
               A collective wave of muffled laughter passed over the other students. Peter’s face heated.
               “Five?” Mrs. Traff repeated incredulously. “Mr. Parker, you are telling me that you believe there are currently five states in our country?”
               No one bothered to hide their laughs this time. Where just a moment ago he was beet red, Peter knew now he looked like a sheet. He looked around the room, only really seeing it now. “This…this isn’t precalculus,” he said stupidly. He was in a history room. Mrs. Traff was his history teacher. Ned was trying to say ‘fifty’.
               Fridays usually carried good vibes, but the day did not get any better after that. Between taunts of ‘Penis Parker’, Ned accidentally blurting that Peter still had a nightlight in his room (really though, Peter had to wonder, what was so wrong with that?), and a freezing cold walk home, Peter was downright miserable upon returning home.
               “What’s the matter, Spider-man?” May ruffled his hair.
               Peter liked when she called him that. When it came from May, it wasn’t a superhero name. It was just a nickname, like squirt or sport, holding only love and affection, and not the weight of the fate of the city. May was supporting him. After laying some ground rules—a lot of ground rules—and a lot of yelling at Mr. Stark, May was supporting him as Spider-man.
               “I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter said.
               May tsked and smoothed his hair back down. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”
               Peter raised an eyebrow.
               “Tony Stark called today, asking for you.”
               “Me?” Peter asked, like she would be referring to anyone else. “Like, me, as in Peter Parker? Personally?”
               “Yup,” May said, popping the ‘p’.
               “What did he want?”
               “He asked if you’d like to accompany him to an expo this weekend. In Miami.”
               Peter’s eyes widened to saucers. From what he’d seen in the media, Mr. Stark’s expos were nothing short of amazing. A whole variety of guests, from college students sporting backpacks and sweaters to millionaires in extravagant suits sipping fancy drinks, a big inspirational speech from Mr. Stark, and all the newest ground-breaking technology that SI was funding.
               “I can go?” Peter asked.
               May pretended to think about it. “I suppose. If you promise to be good. No taking on supervillains. Or staying up past bedtime.”
               Peter was already bounding to his room to start packing. “I’ll be good, Aunt May, promise! I’ll be so good! The best!”
               May chuckled. “You already are, Spider-man.”
A sleek black car pulled up outside Peter’s apartment early the next morning. He couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was one of Mr. Stark’s cars.
               A quick goodbye to May later, Peter was getting in the car. Part of him had been expecting Happy to jump out and open the door for him, but the window rolled down and over the purr of the engine and blaring AC/DC came Mr. Stark’s voice from the driver’s seat, “Come on, kid, we can’t afford to be late.”
               “Happy isn’t taking us?” Peter asked. He’d never admit it, and he knew Happy wouldn’t either, but he was pretty sure they were actually getting along really well.
               Tony smiled, a different kind of smile, like he wasn’t quite sure of himself. “I figured we could go it just the two of us,” he said. “If that’s okay.”
               “Yeah,” Peter grinned. “That’s cool.”
               It was really cool. Mr. Stark had sort of become like a father to Peter. A rich, famous, awkward, bad-at-feelings, superhero father, but a father nonetheless. And if Tony wanted to spend time with Peter? Maybe Peter had become like a son.
               The thought made him glow.
               They talked about Peter’s school, and Miami, and how great it would be to escape the ever-dropping temperatures, and listened to music too loud and bought ice cream and got a parking ticket (“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark I’ll pay for it I swear!” “Kid. Seriously?”), and while it wasn’t a regular road trip, Peter didn’t think he’d ever had a better one.
               Tony handed the car over to the hotel valet and their luggage to the bellhop. Peter had never been in a fancy hotel before. He wondered if they were all like this, or if he was just getting special treatment because he was with Tony Stark. Either way, it was pretty cool.
               “Expo isn’t until tomorrow,” Tony explained while Peter gawked at the luxurious sweet they would be staying in, “so tonight’s for doing whatever you want, kiddo. I mean…Pete. Peter.”
               “Cool,” Peter said absentmindedly. He didn’t notice Tony’s little slip; he was too enraptured with exploring the bathroom he was pretty sure was bigger than his entire apartment. “I mean, uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “cool.”
               “I think there’s an arcade downstairs,” Tony suggests. “Or we could go find the pool.”
               Peter has remembered to pick his jaw up off the floor now, but is still staring, wide-eyed, at the art pieces that adorn the walls of the hotel room, and not really hearing a thing that’s being said.
               “That sounds good,” Peter says, still distracted.
               He only realizes what he’s agreed to once he’s standing on the small tiles of the pool’s edge, clad in a pair of swim trunks May must have packed in his bag, and being suffocated by the strong scent of chlorine.
               They’re the only people here, and Tony has already dived into the water, and he looks very happy, instead of being terrified and looking for the nearest exit like one other particular person in the room.
               “Come on, Pete!” he calls. “The water is nice!”
               Peter’s throat tightens. “Um, I- uh,” he stammers, trying to think up some sort of excuse, but Mr. Stark is waiting for him, eyes twinkling and water dripping from his dark hair, and Peter doesn’t want to disappoint him so he makes his way forward on shaking legs.
               He crouches by the very edge of the pool, despite the thousand alarms going off in his head, and Tony swims over to him.
               “Come on,” Tony says again, reaching out for Peter’s arm. Peter freezes when water droplets make contact with his bare skin.
               Tony, still smiling, unaware of how close to hyperventilating Peter is, takes a gentle hold of his arm, and tugs. It’s meant to be gentle, an attempt to coax him, and it is, really, except that Peter isn’t very focused right now and it’s enough to send him over the ledge into the water.
               The temperature is uneven, a swirl of cold and warm, separate, but still mixed, and the water is wet and it’s everywhere and it’s heavy, why is does it feel heavy, and why is there no air, why can’t he breathe, he’s thrashing, sinking, why won’t his body swim, the breath leaves him in a stream of bubbles, where’s the air, he can’t breathe—
               A strong pair of hands pulls him back up to the surface.
               “Mr. Stark,” Peter manages between coughing up water and sucking in air, “I’m sorry, I—”
               “It’s okay,” Tony says, and in true Tony Stark fashion starts rambling, “it’s okay, Pete, just breathe. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have pulled you into the water like that, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you couldn’t swim—”
               “No,” Peter interrupts, “it’s not that. It’s not that, it’s…ever since that one time, with the Vulture, he dropped me into that lake, and I thought I was gonna die, Mr. Stark, and I would have if you didn’t come and save me, and ever since then, the water just…scares me.”
               And just like that, Tony is scooping him up like he’s a little kid, and carrying him out of the pool room. He gives Peter a towel to dry off, and looks at him, with his hands on Peter’s shoulders.
               “How come you never told me?” Tony asks.
               Peter can breathe better now that he’s away from the water, and he is silently glad Tony knew what he needed to make him feel better. He’s not glad about the guilty look that paint’s Mr. Stark’s face, Mr. Stark isn’t—Tony isn’t supposed to like that.
               Peter shrugs. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Stark. I guess it just never really came up.”
               “Will you tell me next time? If there’s ever something bothering you, I want to help.”
               A nod.
               “Well,” Tony says, straightening and moving to stand, “that’s certainly enough swimming for tonight. Or forever. What do you say we go back up to the room and watch a movie instead? I think we can probably pay-per-view Star Wars or something.”
               “That sounds great,” Peter grins. He means it this time.
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