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writersrealmbts · 4 years ago

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A Natural: Part 7/Finale

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 04/09/2021

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 3,673

A/N: Yay! Another series finished! Thanks for loving this story!

Theo was talking animatedly with Taehyung as he was wheeled toward the house, but he got quieter as you approached the front door to unlock it, looking down at the ramp beneath the wheels of the wheelchair.

Tae pushed him through the front door, his conversation also lulling.

Theo looked around, a bit of a smile on his face. “I get to stay now, right?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “You get to stay now and forever. We do have to go back for checkups and therapy but you’re home and you’re safe and I’m making roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

“Yummy! Can we go play, Dad?” Theo asked, brightening instantly and sort of bouncing in his wheelchair.

“Sure!” Tae pushed the wheelchair through at a speed that made you nervous. But you knew he would never purposely endanger Theo: Theo was his pup. That was evident in all of his actions, in his conversation, and in the effort he had made to get certified so that he could be there when Theo was released.

You went into the kitchen to baste your roast and then start peeling the mashed potatoes, trying to calm your heart because your baby was finally home again. Finally, finally home again, after weeks and months of too little patience and not enough answers, and a whole sea of tears. Therapy, rehab, tests, more tests, and after all of that, you had your baby home—less mobile than before, but still your baby.

You watched Theo playing on the bed with Tae, fighting the tears and hopelessly losing because he was back where he belonged.

Peace, comfort, and everything right in the world. Nothing intruding, just your little family.

So, of course, your phone rang.

You groaned and answered it. “Yoongi? Really? We just got Theo home.”

“It happened. We’re out of a job,” Yoongi answered, sighing. “They closed the company down.”

“Ugh. You could have texted me that,” You huffed, heading back to the kitchen. The two of you had basically considered everything going on and known that the company was going to collapse. You’d almost been told as much when the two of you went in to talk to an IRS agent who wanted you to walk her through your jobs and some files and go over the discrepancies that had led to the audits.

“Yeah, well, I also had to tell you that the paperwork came in the mail today, and we close on the building next week.”

“Okay, that was worth calling me,” You said, hopping onto the counter. “What’s next on the list?”

“Fixing the building? Getting the classes organized. You finish the certification class tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic,” You said, shrugging. “Too easy. Let’s make our classes thorough, yeah?”

“Agreed. Jin is already writing a teaching plan. He’s got it halfway done—at least, I hope that’s the halfway point. Jungkook’s been helping, which makes hyung happy. And he’s finished the dog-training next week. The teacher was really excited to hear about what we’re doing, by the way, and gave Jin a bunch of things. She asked Jin to sit in on her next couple of classes as her helper.”

“That’s really great. Jimin?”

“He’s hitting garage sales to celebrate getting the building, hoping to find some cheap stuff to get us started. How’s Theo?”

“He’s fine. He’s bright and happy and playing with Taehyung right now. He’s taking things well and I’m making his favorite, and he’s looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow.” You checked your timer, then sighed. “We’re totally doing pizza, though. I’m already exhausted.”

“Okay. I can pick it up on my way over.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Need to get the rest of dinner started.”

“Tell Theo we’re looking forward to playing games with him tomorrow.”

“You got it. Eat well.”

“You too.”

You slipped off of the counter, and started putzing around the kitchen making some side dishes to go with dinner.

Tae came out. “How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Better keep it warm, he fell asleep.”

You nodded, letting him stop you and hold you still. “He okay?”

“Very okay. He’s so happy he’s home that he just sort of passed out.” He kissed your cheek, then sighed. “I’m so happy too. I finally get to see him and hold him. I just want to hold him and cry.”

“I’ve almost been in tears for the entire day,” You told him. “I figure once he’s in bed for the night, I’ll cry my little heart out.”

“Can I cry with you?”

“Of course you can. I would never ask you not to cry when you wanted to.” You turned to meet his gaze, gently touching one of his furry ears. “It’s been hard for both of us. It’s still going to be hard. I’m terrified of the next few days.”

“Me too. Even if they told us what to expect and how to care for him, there’re still a lot of mistakes we’re going to make and that scares the fur off me.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through all this if I hadn’t had you, you know.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

“Mommy! Look! I made it in my chair and through the house!” Theo called, managing the last push through to the kitchen and raising his arms in victory.

“My baby! Look at you!” You hurried over bending to kiss his face all over. “Excellent job!”

“It’s exhau…it’s tiring,” Theo finished, nodding firmly to cover for his lost word.

“Exhausting, fatiguing, tiresome, or draining,” You supplied, sharing a smile with him and moving around to the back of the chair, bringing him over to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water. It smells really good, mommy.” Theo smiled up at you.

You dropped a couple kisses on his face before going to get him his drink.

Tae was bringing over the side dishes. “You want to stay in your wheelchair, or you want to sit on the chair?”

“Chair, it’s a little too high,” Theo said, touching the table edge, which was practically to his chin.

Tae nodded and pulled the wheelchair back. “Arms around my neck.”

Theo did as he was told and the two of them moved him to the dining chair.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, noticing the way Theo was sort of fidgeting in the chair as you brought the roast over.

Theo looked up at you. “It’s still weird.”

“Your legs?” You guessed, resting your hand on his cheek.

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. Neither do we. But…there are some things in life that are out of our control.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re going to be with you every moment of the way.”

Theo nodded, sighing. “I missed you, mommy.”

“I was with you,” You teased gently, but you understood exactly what he meant. It had always been the two of you, three once Tae had joined, and while he was in the hospital everything felt wrong. You didn’t get to hold him like you wanted, and it seemed like every time you had him in your arms and both of you were comfortable a nurse would come in to do something or other.

“But we weren’t home,” He said, watching Tae put the bowl of mashed potatoes down. “I really, really missed you daddy.”

Tae came over and nuzzled Theo. “I missed you more.”

“I missed you most,” Theo responded easily.

You hummed softly. “Come on. Time to eat, boys, before it gets cold.”

Theo hummed happily as you filled his plate, immediately trying to cut his own food first before ultimately letting Tae do it. “Too tired. Too hard.”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Tae answered easily. “We all need help sometimes. And cutting things can be hard. At least you try.”

Theo nodded. “Mommy said that as long as I try, I can make it through the world.”

“Your mom is really smart,” Tae said, smiling at you. “She’s got a good history of trying her best at everything, including taking care of you and me. You chose her well.”

Theo laughed. “I didn’t choose her!”

“What?! Of course you did!” Tae objected, grinning himself. “Every kid chooses their parents!”

Theo and Tae launched into a playful debate and storytime about how every kid chooses their parent while you ate, quietly listening and just enjoying the fact that you were home.

Theo was home.

“Uncle Hobi said that he’d help me catch up to the rest of the class over the summer. I don’t want to do school work in the summer, but I don’t want to be behind. Kevin and Jun were close to being my friends, and they sent more drawings and letters than the other kids.”

“They wanted to visit, too, but they didn’t want to tire you out,” You told him. “We told them that they could come play with you once you were home.”

He grinned. “When? Tomorrow? Tuesday?”

“I’ll talk to their moms and arrange it all, and let you know. But, let’s have a couple days just our family.”

Theo nodded, but then looked back up. “Wait, does that include my uncles?”

“Of course. We’re working on projects together so they’re over quite a bit lately. And they’re coming over tomorrow, remember?” Tae nuzzled Theo, then added more potatoes to his plate. “Eat up.”

“More food?”

Tae nodded. “You need to eat well to recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Theo started eating the extra food on his plate.

“Only eat until you’re full, though,” You instructed.

“Yes, mommy,” Theo answered, smiling at you.

Your baby was home.

——

“Woohoo!” Theo cheered as he rolled down the ramp at a speed carefully controlled by Jungkook.

You finished edging the window and set your brush aside.

The building for the training center was almost finished, and all of the licensing and training that you all needed, and the first classes were slated to start in three days.

“Over here is our obstacle course, which we think will help those training with us, as well as those in physical therapy, learn how to maneuver around things that they’ll come across on a regular day. As you can see, our happy tester is enjoying going down the ramp after he was working on trying to get up it on his own for a while.” Jimin high-fived Theo as he led the group past. “We’re also finishing painting, so try not to touch the walls unless you like paint on you.”

The people chuckled, fascinated by Jimin’s enthusiastic tour. He was showing some hybrid-shelter owners through the facility to sell them the idea of sending hybrids there for training to increase adoption rates. He’d given multiple tours so far, because he was by-far the best at it, aside from Taehyung, but Taehyung had the disadvantage of being a hybrid.

Hoseok was trailing the group, but split off to join you. “They’re practically eating out of his hand.”

“Good. We have bills coming eventually.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to you. “But this place is amazing. You guys are going to do really well.”

“I hope so.”

Hoseok handed you the folder. “So, I looked things over.”

“Good news, then?” You asked sarcastically.

“Not bad news. He’s learning more slowly, but he’s still learning. As he grows stronger, I think he’ll be okay. He just gets tired so easily that I think it’s causing his trouble. So, once he gets stronger and isn’t as tired, I think he’ll catch up just fine. But for now, he’s going to stay just a little behind. I’m moving up with the class as part of the new program, so I can keep following his progress and helping him.” He patted your shoulder. “I already talked to the higher-ups about it. They agreed that it was important for him to be with his friends. Especially since we’re working on catching him up. And he’s still a bright kid, that catches on quickly. Tired equals distracted, distracted equals slower learning.”

“Thanks for the crayons, teach,” You answered dryly.

He grinned at you. “Hey, there’s a reason I teach kids.”

“Because you are one?”

He laughed and the two of you watched as Jungkook helped Theo work his way up the easiest ramp so he could go down the hardest again.

“He really likes this place. After we left yesterday, it was all he could talk about,” You told him, smiling as Theo cheered on his way down the ramp again.

“His friends are coming to play here, aren’t they?”

You nodded. “They’ll be here soon. Taehyung is waiting to show them in. Their mom’s were excited to hear that this was practically a playground, rainy days are hard.”

“You could market day-passes and make that one room into a playroom for kids, that’d help bring in more income. I know several sets of parents that would bring their younger kids in, especially on rainy days. And if hybrid rights ever get reestablished, you could make it hybrid friendly which would really help.”

Yoongi paused in the doorway and looked at you.

You looked back, then at Hoseok. “So, we told you you’re a shareholder, right?”

Hoseok nodded.

Yoongi pulled out a notebook and wrote the idea down. “I’ll start pricing things and we can discuss it.”

“Theo!”

You looked over as Kevin and Jun ran over.

“Hi!” Theo greeted them enthusiastically and they started talking.

Taehyung was leading in their mothers.

“I should go talk with them,” You excused yourself and headed over.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for letting the kids play here, it looks great,” Jun’s mother (Debby?) said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

“And safe. Kevin has a habit of hitting his head on everything so I’m glad to see everything is padded. Lumps are easy, cuts are hard,” Kevin’s mother (Jamie?) added. “Plus the rain.”

You nodded. “They’re little balls of energy, but I’m really grateful for you two bringing them. Theo was so excited to hear he would get to see them.”

“Jun’s been asking about Theo almost every week. These past months must have been so hard. I don’t think I could have handled it.”

“I have a really good support system,” You answered easily, turning with them to watch the three boys playing, Jungkook keeping an eye on them to help if Theo got stuck.

The other two boys were being really thoughtful and kind and they saw the wheelchair and Theo being stuck in it as a challenge and a game, which would definitely help. They listened when Jungkook did have to help them and they already seemed to be having fun.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hang around and keep track of them?” Kevin’s mom asked after giving you her husband’s number as well as Kevin’s backpack.

“We’d be happy to help,” Debby added.

You shook your head. “Go home, relax. Or clean, or whatever you need to get done. I’ve got several helpers on hand if I need them, including their favorite teachers. That is, as long as you’re okay with Jin and Taehyung helping out.”

“Of course, this whole law is ridiculous. It won’t last.” Debby waved a hand as if dismissing the law.

“Can’t last, more like. My favorite babysitter is a golden retriever hybrid, she’s been living in our basement ever since this happened. She was really excited to hear about this place, though, so I told her I would bring her once it was open.”

You smiled. “She’d be very welcome, and just let me know if she wants to take any of the classes.”

They nodded and left after telling their boys to behave and listen to you and the other adults.

You went into different rooms, double-checking the painting and making sure everything looked nice and correct.

Namjoon was sorting through the area rugs, placing them in order by thickness and type. This would make it easier to not only determine what carpets might be easier for people in wheelchairs, but help them and those helping them grow accustomed to the type of challenges that different carpets could present.

Yoongi was going through and making notes of different things that still needed to be finished, or other things that came to mind, as well as double checking some of the safety parameters.

Jimin was still talking with the people he was giving the tour to.

Hoseok was sorting through the spare office supplies that all of you had managed to scrounge up (a lot of yours came from your college years, like the dozen or so sticky note pads, the handful of highlighters, a plethora of paperclips and binder clips, push pins, pencils, pens, erasers, loose-leaf lined paper, binders, folders, and index cards—so many index cards), while keeping the kids in his sight should Tae or Jungkook get distracted.

And Seokjin was setting up the kitchen, which was going to be teaching cooking classes as part of companion training, but also used to show the difficulties a person in a wheelchair would face on one side of the kitchen while the other side was made for people in wheelchairs. He really liked the kitchen, and it was his pet project

Which meant you could go and look at the room that wasn’t being used yet.

Hoseok was right, it would make a really good room for kids playing. Something that would be easy to sanitize, but still allow for the kids to play. A slide would easily fit there, some rock wall-type of holds on the wall there….

You backed out of the room and stuck a sticky-note to the door, labeling it the Jungle room.

Yoongi joined you, giving you a questioning look.

“If we’re going to make a room for all kids to play in, we should have a theme for it. Kids like themes. Jungle is a good theme.”

He nodded. “That cafe I told you about, they said if we get busy enough, they’d love to partner with us and open in the cafeteria.”

“That’d be perfect. For now we’re just going to have to offer snacks by the front desk, though.”

“Jimin is on the phone with the local paper.”

You slowly turned toward him again. “What?”

He nodded. “They called, wanting to talk to someone about this place and Jimin saw me starting to stumble so I pretended I was just an assistant and told them I was handing the phone over to one of the founding members. He’s good at the talking thing. Between him, Jimin, and Tae, we should never need to talk on the phone.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” You answered, hurrying to find Jimin because you wanted to know how the interview went.

“Yes, thank you so much for your inquiries. You have a nice day as well.” Jimin hung up, and grinned at you. “Well, we’re definitely getting some attention!”

“What did they ask? What did you say?”

“Well, they asked why we started this, when we were opening, what we were offering—I added on hybrid companion training for the elderly, but I didn’t think you two would mind—and I gave them the answers, I didn’t divulge first names or anything. I used strictly last names, because even that lends us more anonymity and autonomy. I told them we wanted to help our community and those who were currently suffering—I even added that our training areas worked great for kids playing when it was raining outside because they could hear the boys laughing. They asked if we had considered opening it as a playground for the kids as well when it wasn’t being used for training and I answered yes—but I also added that we’d need another permit or two that we haven’t filed for yet. We have considered that, right?”

“We have, actually, we were talking about turning one of the rooms into a kids playroom specifically. Then if we have hybrids who have kids, the kids can play while their parents are in classes,” Yoongi said, definitely adding that to his notebook, as well as the elderly thing. “This is going to be a life-long project, isn’t it?”

“If we’re lucky,” Jimin answered cheerfully.

You left Yoongi grumbling to go check on the boys, noticing that Theo wasn’t playing as much, but he was still laughing with them and apparently they were rescuing him from pirates or something.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist. “You know…I’m really proud of you.”

You relaxed into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy Theo chose you as his father.”

“I’m really happy you let him,” He whispered, then tilted your chin up to gaze into your eyes for a moment.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, softly and gently, a silent promise for forever.

“I knew it!” Theo yelled happily, definitely staring at you two when you looked over. “YES!”

“Whoops,” You whispered, trying not to laugh. It seemed an age ago that you told Theo not to expect the two of you fall in love. Told him he could call Taehyung his father if he really wanted to.

An age since Taehyung first kissed you.

A lifetime since you told Theo he could adopt a hybrid.

Taehyung laughed and kissed you again. “Thank you for my family.”

“Does that mean you don’t want more pups?” You asked cheekily.

He shrugged. “I’m satisfied with whatever I get in life. If that’s more kids, then I’m not going to complain. But Theo’s enough for me.”

You kissed his cheek and rested in his arms, knowing everything in your future was going to be worth the trials. But he was a natural at helping you through it.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

–

Previous.

Taehyung Masterpost. Masterlist.

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22 @missmoxxiesworld @bryvada @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @forvever-ddaeng @ncttzuuy @briramirezalipio @givebuckysomelove @bunnyboyenthusiast @rosita7703 @veryuniquenamegoeshere @lottosehunnie @forevermoremagcon @kpopgirlbtssvt @0mysticx0 @littlewolfieposts @kerikaaria @hemmofluke @beauthiefully

#single mom!reader #single mom au #taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid!taehyung #adoptedfather!taehyung #hybrid au #bts fic #bts x reader #kim taehyung #V #parent au #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #jimin #jungkook #hoseok

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years ago

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In the Middle

One of your boyfriends tries to rile up the other.

You get caught in the middle in more ways than one.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None really

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

There were pros and cons to having two boyfriends.

You fought a never ending battle pulling hair from the shower drain. You had double the texts to reply to; double the calls to return. No matter how comfortable you were when you fell asleep, you always woke up with a crick in your neck and someone’s elbow in your face.

Hizashi craved attention more than oxygen and sulked if he felt even slightly neglected. He spent just as much time chasing kisses as he did styling his hair. He sang in the shower, the bathtub, the rain and was only too eager to drag one or both of you in for a duet. You learned the hard way not to stand next to him in front of the bathroom mirror, for he would bump his hips against yours until you sang along to the radio with him and you’d ended up with eyeliner halfway across your face more than once.

He would spend the day pouting if no one gave him a good morning kiss and drew smiley faces in ketchup if left to plate up at dinner. He was a handful and a terrible influence; the polar opposite of your other boyfriend in every possible way.

Shouta was neither loud nor demanding. He could go days without talking, much less singing, and was happiest dozing off on the couch with his head in someone’s lap. His affections were subtle and easy to miss, while the emotions behind them were anything but. He met you halfway when you reached out to touch him and smiled in his sleep if you kissed him on the forehead. He would complain if you wriggled into his arms while he was working, but rearrange his position to accommodate you nonetheless.

Hizashi needed attention, while Shouta rarely sought it and nine times out of ten you and Hizashi were the ones who did all of the seducing.

Today was no exception to that particular rule.

Summer had hit Musutafu seemingly overnight. It was too hot to sleep or even snuggle on the couch. All you seemed to do lately was curl up on the floor in front of the electric fan in as many clothes as you could bear, while Hizashi stood on the balcony in a tank and shorts, stretching like a cat and mopping the sweat from his brow. It was too hot for leather and too humid for hairspray- sacrifices he had had to make, but was far from happy about.

Shouta remained relatively unchanged. He still went out at night to patrol the streets and continued to plan classes on his laptop on the couch, changing into thinner clothes, but remaining otherwise unaffected.

He was on his laptop, in fact, on this day in particular, drafting out a plan for 1-A’s future training exercises. In the meantime, Hizashi had opened up the box of popsicles you’d been keeping in the freezer and the pair of you took turns in front of the electric fan.

It was only a matter of time before the quiet, heat and lack of attention got to Hizashi and he had rested his head on your lap, golden hair splayed across your thighs. At first it was enough to snake one of his hands under your shirt and cup your breast, but before long that too lost its appeal. He shot side glances at Shouta every so often, sighing and running his tongue over the popsicle.

And so it was you found yourself caught in a battle of wills.

Hizashi waited for Shouta to look over before touching his tongue to the ice. If his gaze lasted longer than a couple of seconds, Hizashi would curl his tongue. Shouta made a point to catch his eye and not react.

Both sides were too stubborn to cave and, as usual, it fell to you to break the tension.

You took the popsicle from Hizashi and leaned back, running your own tongue over the ice. It was on the verge of melting and syrup dripped onto your shirt, causing you to gasp most theatrically and pull the shirt away from your body as if it wasn’t in the least bit planned. At first Hizashi had pouted when you stole his popsicle, but now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“It’s rude to take things without asking, (Name),” he said, sitting up. “The least you can do is share.”

You held out the popsicle and he sucked at the end, leaning back to allow you to do the same. You made sure to moan far louder than was necessary, as if it was something far less innocent than a popsicle.

“Ahhh, it’s getting all over my mouth,” you said, wiping the syrup from your lips and chin. “What am I going to do?”

“I can help with that,” said Hizashi, seconds before grazing his lips over yours, checking to see if Shouta was watching before deepening the kiss.

His lips were cold and he tasted of mangoes, the same flavour as the popsicle you’d been sharing. It was sweet, but the realisation that Shouta had stopped typing was far sweeter.

Shouta didn’t seek attention out, that much was true, but he sure as shit hated being left out of the action.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before you ended up on your hands and knees in the bedroom. You dug your nails into the bedcovers as Hizashi gripped your hips and took you from behind, all while Shouta bunched your hair in his hands, kneeling in front of you and thrusting into your mouth.

You barreled forward every time Hizashi slammed his hips into yours, moaning from the sensation of his dick hitting the one spot that made your toes curl.

The sounds Shouta was making were obscene. The vibrations of your moans against his dick combined with the way each thrust sent it deeper down your throat left him trembling. He could do little more than hold onto your hair and even then his hands were shaking.

Hizashi was absurdly quiet, all things considered, though you couldn’t turn your head to see why. You got your answer when he made a wet sound behind you and let out a moan, something icy landing on the small of your back.

“Hizashi...are you...are you still eating the popsicle?”

“No.”

More syrup landed on your back.

“Maybe.”

You heard the smack of his lips as he put it back in his mouth only moments before he took up such an ungodly pace that you took Shouta’s cock into your hand and jerked him off, grabbing onto the bed covers so tightly that your knuckles went white. The tension inside of you was too much to bear. You felt like you were going to explode.

You squeezed your eyes shut and squealed as you came undone, mind falling blank and legs shaking. It was like an electric shock burning through your core, leaving you unable to do anything but absorb each pulse.

Hizashi slowed down to enjoy the feel of you cumming on his dick, but the reprieve lasted only a few short moments. He guided you down onto the bed and over onto your back, shifting positions with Shouta, who lifted your knees over his shoulders.

He didn't have remotely the same stamina as Hizashi. You doubted any human did. He was, however, girthier and only too happy to torment you with it. He took you slow and deep, dragging sighs from your lips at the overstimulation. You were still having aftershocks from cumming the first time and saw stars each time his hips hit yours.

You turned your head to lick the tip of Hizashi’s dick, matching the pressure and speed of Shouta’s thrusts. Hizashi sucked in a deep breath, leaning over to grab Shouta by the hair and moan into his mouth.

The first time you had ever had sex with Hizashi, he shattered every window in your apartment building. You had laughed it off as an earthquake, though got the feeling no one believed you.

You had learned the hard way that he was loud when he came and the easiest way to prevent it was to stifle the sound before it could leave his lips, be it with a gag, by sitting on his face, preoccupying him with a blowjob or, as was the case now, with kissing.

You lay on your back and watched them nip at each other’s lips, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You were glad Shouta was holding onto your legs, for it felt as if the bones had left your body.

Hizashi was the next to come, whimpering into Shouta’s kisses as his dick twitched. He sat up and gave himself a final couple of tugs before spilling over your chest. Shouta followed suit, sitting up onto his knees and coming across your stomach.

Double the boyfriends, you considered fleetingly, double the mess.

~~~~

You stayed in bed for at least an hour after that, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. It was still unbearably hot and no one was particularly enthusiastic about putting on clothes, even though the heat from one other’s bodies swiftly overpowered any relief from the electric fan.

“Why is it that whenever you two have shenanigans I end up in the middle?”

You could hear the fatigue in your own voice; the perfect compliment to how heavy your eyelids felt.

“I thought you liked being in the middle,” said Hizashi, only to squeak as you poked him in the ribs.

“I suppose I should take a bath,” you groaned, peeling Shouta’s arms from your waist and untangling your legs from Hizashi’s.

Your legs were more than a little floppy, but you disguised it by dropping to your knees to pick up your discarded clothes.

“(Name),” said Shouta, “wait.”

You turned to him, heart fluttering. Ordinarily he tolerated hugs at best, but on the rare occasions you managed to keep him awake after sex he was the biggest cuddler you’d ever met.

Maybe he wanted you to go back to bed.

Maybe he wanted to join you in the bath.

“Yes?”

“You’re blocking the fan.”

You turned to the fan behind you, heart sinking.

“And they say romance is dead,” you muttered, stepping out of the room.

Hizashi and Shouta closed their eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool air against their exposed skin. The peaceful moment was soon over, though, for seconds later you slipped your arm back through the doorway and flicked the off switch.

“Hey!!”

“(Name)!”

“Switch it back on, switch it back on!”

“Make me,” you said, sticking out your tongue and closing the door behind you.

“Oooooh,” Hizashi huffed, climbing out of bed. “When I catch you…”

He ran out of the bedroom and chased you through the apartment, paying little heed to the fact that you were both as naked as the day you were born.

Shouta turned over onto his side and fluffed his pillow.

He could sleep through just about anything; a fire alarm...hot weather...

...and, apparently, the sound of his two idiot lovers spraying one another with water.

#erasermic x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #present mic x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #erasermic #eraserhead x present mic

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jayflrt · 3 years ago

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Alice I hope you don't mind me ranting a bit I'm just really upset like ndnsnsn I have health issues that have persisted for a while and they were getting better when I found out I was gluten intolerant and have a bunch of other food allergies but no matter how hard I try to cut them out I still end up feeling sick at the end of the day. Like today Im having acid reflux and my stomach hurts and I feel nauseous and lowkey dizzy and like that doesn't even correspond with how I react to my allergies and Idk I just feel sick all the time and it's so upsetting 😭 it's a silly thing but one of my fears is throwing up idk why but when my stomach hurts nearly all day every day it's jusr so anxiety inducing and as a result I just feel stressed and scared all the time and my mom and my friends try to help but ultimately I feel like the whole feeling better thing is impossible and Idk 😭😭😭😭 it's been extra bad today and it's just so draining mentally to put up with this I just had to get this out 😭

oh my gosh kelsey i had no idea you were going through something like that 😭 im so sorry, that must be so hard to deal with :(( also i don't mind at all so don't worry about that !! also im sorry i was trying to do my research as i was typing out this ask so i apologize if im all over the place! gluten is in a lot of foods so it must be rlly difficult to stick to a strict gluten-free diet :// it's really hard to feel positive about something when it's hindering your daily life like that :( did your doctor say you could get treated for it and reduce its effects somehow ??

i read that there's an enzyme called AN-PEP that blocks gluten before it reaches the small intestine so taking a tablet containing it would allow you to consume gluten without experiencing the effects of it !! maybe you could check with your healthcare provider/doctor beforehand but i found some links where you can buy these supplements and i made sure to find ones that have good reviews !! (but reminder to check with your doctor first!)

i found this one called GliadinX and the ppl who have celiac disease/gluten intolerant in the reviews say they've always had fatigue, headaches, nausea, bloating, and stomachaches when consuming gluten but after consuming gluten after taking the pill, they didn't experience any symptoms ! one person said she had light nausea for a while but it passed quickly

this one called Gluten Relief helps you digest gluten and the reviews are very promising too !!

this one called GlutenEase also has good reviews about how well it works !!

so i chose the top three ranked ones, but i think GliadinX is by far the most effective and best in helping with gluten intolerance :'') and apparently has the highest concentration and most effective formulation of AN-PEP !! ♡ i hope this could be of help tho kelsey and i hope things get better :(( 💝

#💌 : jayflrt love notes #baekhyuns-lipchain

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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Art credit: @ mudubu00 on Twitter

Part 13: After Aizawa gets hurt, you and Shinsou speed over to the hospital to make sure he’s okay and yell at him for worrying you like that. Ojiro tags along to give his support as well as check in on the four of his classmates that were hurt in the yakuza fight. A week later, Aizawa brings you in, hoping that you can connect with the little girl that they rescued and encourage her to eat something. He didn’t expect it to go so well but now he has one more little joy to look after.

Word Count: 6.7k

“Dad, are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked worriedly as you two came to a halt in front of the hospital. The two of you were officially skipping school for the day.

But this white building sure was a familiar sight.

You hadn’t been with him when he and a bunch of other pros, along with Kirishima, Asui, Uraraka and Midoriya had infiltrated the yakuza and rescued the little girl called Eri.

You had watched it on the news in the dorms, on the edge of your seat, hands clasped over your mouth fearfully with the rest of your classmates as the events unfolded right there on the screen.

How the press was able to capture a battle of that size in person and not be shaken with fear their core was beyond you.

But after seeing how much they went through, you couldn’t help but sprint out of the dorm along with Shinsou as the media caught a glimpse of Aizawa being dragged out by Rock Lock.

It was far away, but he was slumped over as if he was unconscious.

You needed to be there. He needed you.

Ojiro chased after you just in time to see you crash into two teachers just outside of the dorms who were also beside themselves with worry.

They were already on their way to where Aizawa was getting treated, and you didn’t waste any time begging Mic to let you see him while Shinsou won over Midnight.

It didn’t take too long to receive their permission and Ojiro tagged along with the two of you because he was equally worried about his friends who were injured in the battle as well as how you were taking it.

Upon arrival, the hospital was so busy that both boys beside you made sure not to take their eyes off of you as they steered you through the crowd, following Yamada and Kayama as they weaved in and out.

Since you were legally Aizawa’s daughter and Shinsou held a special bond with him as well, it wasn’t too hard to let you both see him first when the nurses asked who wanted to see him first as soon as he woke up from the anesthetic.

Ojiro held you the entire way there as your body racked with sobs, wrapping his tail around you in the waiting area despite the numerous odd glances that passed through even though Shinsou did a good job of fending off the nosy civilians with a sharp glare.

You sniffled, fingers tightening on the lapels of his school-issued jacket as you fought the urge to cry. “Why won’t they let me see him?”

Brushing the hair back from your eyes, he petted you gently. Your ears were pinned flat against your head in distress and your nose was blotchy, watery eyes staring up at him with such pain that he couldn’t help but feel it too.

“They need to check up on Aizawa-sensei first before we can see him, Y/N.” Ojiro told you, sensitive to the conflicted emotions you must be going through.

You sobbed quietly, beyond worried since the doctors haven’t let you see him yet. They wouldn’t tell you anything except that he was alive and stable. Shinsou sat quietly, apart from the two of you, unable to bring himself to make small talk with Ojiro who was holding you gently.

Things were still a little awkward between them. They hadn’t talked to each other since their encounter at the UA Sports Festival.

Now, it would seem that they couldn’t avoid each other since they both held an important place in your life.

This would need to get resolved. And quickly.

It felt like hours, but when the doctors finally gave you permission for the three of you to step in and see him, asking for immediate family only, you nearly sprinted into his room.

Ojiro, who already suspected that was going to be the case, reassured you prior that it was okay for you and Shinsou to visit your dad. He was going to pay a visit to Uraraka, Midoriya, Asui and Kirishima, who were also in the same hospital, and meet up with you once you were done.

“Dad!!” You cried out as you flung the door open, racing over to where he was laying on the cot. “Dad!!!”

His head was wrapped in bandages and his shoulder was in a sling. There was a single window and no other patients in the room. That was lucky for you because you were bawling your eyes out.

Aizawa groaned tiredly, turning towards you and smiled softly as you hit his rail and yelled at him for being so reckless and not telling you where he went. “You’re so noisy, kid.”

Your body racked with sobs as you cried, not even registering when Shinsou caught up to you, Yamada and Kayama stepping inside quietly before shutting the door.

“You look terrible.” Shinsou drawled nonchalantly, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tried to appear as if he wasn’t worried.

Aizawa rolled his eyes, peering past him to find his two best friends waiting for him to notice them.

He groaned more out of feigned annoyance than pain as Mic squished him in a hug. “Not you again.”

Yamada’s cry of outrage almost caused the windows to crack as he accidentally used his quirk. “Shouta, you’re so mean!!!”

You and Shinsou shushed him so harshly that it evoked a giggle from Kayama.

“You better listen to them.” She teased a now guilty looking Yamada. “They’re his kids after all.”

“Nemuri~” He whined.

“Mic, quit being a baby.” She snapped, before marching over to Aizawa and scolding him for being so reckless just like you had done a minute prior.

After dramatically proclaiming how his pride was wounded, Yamada calmed down. Kind of.

Nobody in the room said it, but you could see how his fingers shook as he latched onto Aizawa’s bedside rail and the click of Kayama’s heels as she paced back and forth, giving away her anxiety.

You and Shinsou exchanged a look, then left to go outside without a word. Aizawa didn’t stop you, already suspecting what the two of you were doing.

All three adults froze as the door clicked close and Aizawa sighed heavily.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” He told them quietly, his voice scratchy and Kamaya was immediately fetching some water for him from the sink, ordering him to drink before he said anything else.

Yamada crossed his legs as he sank to the ground, his eyes flitting up to meet his best friend’s. His insanely stupid best friend who had landed himself in the hospital yet again.

“You’re an idiot, worrying us like that.” He mumbled and Aizawa cracked a smile.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

Outside, you sank down to the ground that was honestly probably not very clean while Shinsou leaned against the opposite wall.

He exhaled forcefully, rubbing the back of his neck in subtle relief. “Close call, huh?”

Your fluffy ears twitched and you nodded, causing them to flop back and forth. “Yeah.”

Thank goodness his injuries weren’t extensive. Other than a shallow knife wound to the shoulder and back, he was okay. He would be fatigued for awhile thanks to Recovery Girl’s quirk but that was all.

You hoped.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You asked quietly.

Battles weren’t just about physical exertion, they were also draining mentally. You didn’t know how much of a toll this one would take on him or the repercussions that would follow.

Shinsou stayed quiet for a moment, thinking it over. If it was anyone else, he would’ve brushed them off or replied in his blunt, instinctual way but this was you he was talking about. He cared more than most others.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Da— Aizawa-sensei’s strong.”

A broad, toothy grin split across your features.

“You almost said ‘dad’~” You sang merrily, a teasing light in your eye and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” Shinsou muttered, ignoring you now that you had switched on your annoying side.

“It’ll happen one day.” You stated firmly, hands balling into fists determinedly as you declared your stance. “And when it does, you can’t take it back. And I get all rights to boast about it in the future.”

Shinsou waved you off and an easier silence encompassed the two of you.

Kayama came back out to get you both after an hour approximately passed, a rare apologetic expression on her face as she apologized for taking so long. Shinsou brushed it off and you reassured her that it was okay.

You were all worried about him. Apparently, he had been dipping in and out of consciousness ever since he arrived due to the pain meds but he was going to be okay.

Yamada was slouched over Aizawa’s bedside and when Kayama came in after you and Shinsou, she planted herself down next to the unusually quiet loudmouth.

You and Shinsou took up the other side, eyes growing heavy with how taxing today had been and it wasn’t long before you two drifted off, the adults following suit soon after.

When Aizawa came to and saw the four of you near him, he couldn’t help but smile tiredly. The sight was rare and no one was squabbling incessantly over something that wasn’t important. Instead, only the sound of silence filled his hospital room.

Aside from the brush with death, he could get used to this.

Once he had fallen asleep again, you were being shaken away.

Ojiro sent you a soft smile, kneeling down on the floor and rubbing comforting circles on your back.

You bolted upright, your tail knocking into Shinsou and startling him awake as it thumped against his back.

“Mashirao?!”

He held a finger up to his mouth to shush you quickly, motioning to where Aizawa, Kayama and Yamada were all asleep.

You followed him outside so that you didn’t disturb the three of them, Shinsou grumbling about how abruptly he had been woken up but trailed behind you begrudgingly.

Once he closed the door behind him, you immediately burst out with endless questions on how your classmates were doing. Ojiro was quick to reassure you that aside from Kirishima, everyone else seemed to be doing okay, only sustaining minor injuries.

Seeing as how Midoriya was lumped in with that group, you were shocked that he hadn’t managed to get hurt too badly.

Grateful, but shocked.

Ojiro asked if you would like to see them and you eagerly nodded, inviting Shinsou to come along with you but he awkwardly declined.

It felt too weird still, he wasn’t used to people talking to him so easily, since his quirk was the main reason why so many people avoided him in middle school.

Your ears drooped a little bit, having a feeling of where his head was at but gave in. You weren’t going to pressure him when he was so obviously uncomfortable. You could only hope that it faded with time because once he joined the hero course, he was going to have to deal with everyone in Class 1-A, regardless of whether or not he actually chose A over B.

Ashido, Midoriya and Kaminari had been especially keen on getting to know him better.

You extended your hand out to Ojiro without thinking about it, only to blush when you realized how easy that simple action was. You had gotten so used to it that you hadn’t realized how intimate the gesture actually was.

But before you could retract your hand, his fingers wove with yours and he tucked you under his arm, making sure to keep you close while you walked down the hall filled with heavy traffic on the way to Kirishima’s room.

Another hour and a half had passed. You had visited all four of your classmates, even meeting the Big Three for the first time since you were absent during the day that Togata laid pain on your class.

Asui and Ururaka smiled when you entered with Ojiro by your side and you hugged them both tight, relaying how glad you were that they were okay.

Kirishima was unconscious when you visited his room and you decided to let him rest, writing him a little note that wished him a swift recovery, leaving it on his pillow.

Midoriya was happy to see you, automatically asking if you were hurt. You had to rush to explain that you were visiting your dad and thought it would be good to check on them while you were at it. He gave you a brief rundown on what they were doing, what the news failed to cover, and your brow furrowed as he told you about the little girl that was the focus of their rescue operation.

That must have been so hard to go through.

“Are you okay?” Ojiro asked you quietly as you worked your way through the maze of the hospital, on your way back to the waiting room where Shinsou was undoubtedly waiting for you.

Ducking your head, you nodded but it was more out of instinct that actual acknowledgement. “Yeah, I just wish I could’ve been there. Maybe I could’ve done something.”

His eyes grew conflicted at the emotion in your voice and he inclined his head. He understood where you were coming from but you shouldn’t fault yourself for not being there. The four of them who were involved with work-studies were ready for this. They managed to save her.

“I know.” Ojiro finally whispered quietly, patting your head softly in reassurance. “But they’ll be okay.”

You heaved a sigh. “I hope so.”

As soon as you made it back to the waiting room, the sun was setting outside and your stomach rumbled with the need for food.

Your hand slipped out of Ojiro’s as you left him with Shinsou, racing to the cafeteria with hopes that they would have some kind of meat for you to chow down on before it was time to leave.

Kayama and Yamada were already waiting in the car for you three, knowing that you took a little extra time to visit your friends.

Shinsou rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and Ojiro’s tail drooped as he realized that they still weren’t able to hold a conversation.

“Erm, how’s Aizawa-sensei doing?” Ojiro asked tentatively.

Shinsou exhaled sharply. “He’s fine.”

The guarded tone he took with him made the tailed teen drop the subject, his heart twisting painfully as he realized that this wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped. Then again, he couldn’t necessarily say that he blamed him.

Shinsou’s indigo hues cleared a tad when Ojiro’s tail fell limp and he closed his eyes briefly before they snapped back open.

“If you have something to say then say it before she gets back.” He grumbled.

Ojiro’s eyes widened at the opportunity handed to him before recovering quickly. Shoulders straightening, his eyes squinted a fraction, determined to follow through with what he wanted to say.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow when the other gestured for him to sit but did so without arguing.

And without saying anything else, Ojiro began.

When you approached them, smoothie and empty wrapper in hand from where you had inhaled the food you had bought with Uncle Hizashi’s credit card, you tilted your head curiously at the sight of the two of them engaged in a deep conversation.

And as the day ended, the five of you headed back to UA, leaving you forever in the dark about what they were talking about.

Now, a week later, you were back at the very same hospital but for very different reasons. Nighteye had made a full recovery, thanks to some of your blood which had an advanced healing property no one was aware of before.

After you quietly admitted to keeping it a secret due to it being one of the reasons the Quirk Traffickers took you, Aizawa told you that you didn’t need to apologize and had All Might keep the doctors who transferred the blood off the record so that it couldn’t be traced back to you.

Even though Aizawa had been cleared and released within a day or so, thanks to Recovery Girl’s quirk, there was still something else he had to do.

He thought it would be a good idea to take you along when he visited the girl they saved. She got scared at everything that moved and was jittery all the time, which was taxing on her already exhausted little body.

He hoped that by seeing you, someone who had also been through something traumatic, you could help her by understanding what a lot of others failed to see.

Look, doctors were great, up until the point where they just couldn’t stand on the same ground as the little one.

No one knew what Eri had gone through. Sure, they had the papers and the evidence, enough to lock Chisaki away for life, but that didn’t mean they really knew.

They didn’t know what it was like to live a day in her life. How traumatizing it must have been for her to get taken apart and put back together again, all for a drug that would only spread chaos in society.

She didn’t deserve any of that. And while they all knew that, no one could tell her that without it sounding hollow. Because they didn’t know what it was like to live in the same fear that she had felt for every single day of her life.

Which is where you came in.

Yamada was covering his classes for the time being and you hoped no one questioned why you were also absent.

“Yes, it’s fine.” Aizawa reassured you emotionlessly as he held open the front door for you to let you go in first.

You stepped inside and blended in with those that milled about the hospital, following Aizawa until you came to a stop in front of a quarantined area. Inside a room, sat a little girl on the hospital bed.

Your jaw dropped. “Is that—”

“Yes.” Aizawa answered without looking as he signed off on the agreement given to him by the police officers stationed by the door.

After hearing from Holly when you had your playdate together and seeing how you interacted with any kids you came across, he was hoping that your energetic presence would help bring this traumatized little girl out of her shell.

“She’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?” You asked quietly as you watched Eri fumble with the bandages on her arms and legs, your eyes shining with tears at how clearly it was stressing her out.

Aizawa sighed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That would be an understatement.” He mumbled.

And that was with only having a fraction of an idea of what had happened to her.

Aiawa motioned for the nurse in the room trying to feed the reluctant girl to step out and she did so with zero hesitation.

“How is she today?” He asked her once she closed the door and you looked around both of them so that you could observe Eri.

The nurse’s gaze was sympathetic but it was clear she was at her wit’s end. “She’s stable and her quirk has not activated once, but she still refuses to eat anything. I’m not sure how much longer we should hold out, I think we should tube feed her unless her vitals are going to drop.”

“Let me try.” You piped up, an usually serious expression stark on your normally friendly features.

You glanced to your dad for approval but Aizawa merely nodded and after the nurse confirmed that it was alright for you to go inside so long as he was with you, she ushered the two of you in while she monitored things from outside.

Careful not to startle Eri, you knocked lightly before announcing yourself and coming in. She looked terrified at an unknown face but you didn’t blame her one bit, remembering what it was like when Ojiro first rescued you.

Your heart had been filled with fear but the hand that he stretched out was warm and inviting. And you never once regretted taking it.

“Hello.” You greeted, setting down a tray of food that had one characteristic in common all around. All the food was sealed to ensure that nothing was tampered with. “Are you hungry, Eri-chan?”

She blinked up at you, staring at the food skeptically but you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you didn’t know what it was like to be exactly in her shoes, you certainly could empathize.

However, her eyes lit up with curiosity at the sight of your fluffy ears and tail. You were different from the others that came to visit and while she wondered if perhaps that was a bad sign, she couldn’t help but be in awe.

Aizawa was leaning against the door frame, watching you both. He had been in the room quite a few times during routine check-ups from the doctor and such but he never really interacted with the little girl. He wasn’t the greatest with kids, they tended to cry whenever they saw him.

Another reason why he was an underground pro where the contact with children was limited to professional interactions only.

You tried to offer up her portion of the meal but she scurried back, her knees tucked up frightfully and you immediately let it go, drawing back to give her some space, murmuring soft reassurances.

Now Aizawa could see how you two really were similar. Abandoned by family and forced to do things you had no awareness of or couldn’t understand, it was sickening.

“I know it’s scary.” You said quietly as you set down the spoon when she shied away from the foreign object. “I was scared too.”

Eri looked up at you with her big eyes, not daring to hope that you could understand what she had been through. Her knees trembled as she drew them up tighter to her chest for comfort.

You smiled reassuringly and kept your distance as you explained your own story, your history with dangerous people just like Chisaki and how you were healing from your own experience.

“It’s hard to trust people when you’re scared that they’re just going to do the same things that those scary people put you through, but trusting that guy,” You pointed over your shoulder to where Aizawa was standing. “Was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

Eri blinked owlishly. “R-Really?”

Her small voice came out so fragile and shaky that you had to physically stop yourself from tackling her in a hug, knowing that it would only frighten her and not comfort her like you were intending.

“Yes,” You nodded vigorously, your tail fluffing up the barest bit to emphasize your point. “And I know you don’t know me, Eri-chan, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too.”

Bit by bit, you could see something changing inside her and hesitantly, she reached for the metal utensil, halting in place before she touched it and looked up at you for permission.

“You’re safe here.” You whispered softly, motioning that it was okay. “You can eat as much as you want.”

This time, Eri tentatively took the spoon and balancing the bowl carefully in her hands, she gazed at it curiously.

You were ecstatic at her progress. You didn’t think she would drop her walls around you so fast. While she looked at it, you picked up your own bowl. Showing her how to blow on the foot first so that it didn’t burn her tongue, you took a small bite, demonstrating that the food caused no harm.

Eri was timid at first, but she gradually grew more confident until she was eating with a gusto that not only surprised you, but also Aizawa.

You motioned him to come over after asking Eri if it was alright so that your dad didn’t spend the majority of his visit standing awkwardly by the wall. The little girl was hesitant but she nodded that it was okay and after a beat, Aizawa came closer.

Once he was within arm’s reach, you scooted over to offer him a spot next to you on the bed.

“Does it taste okay?” You asked her as your dad sat down beside you.

Eri halted, her cheeks bulging with food and she nodded slowly. Cupping her small hands around the bowl, she took in the heat.

“It’s… warm.” She said softly and your heart broke in two.

Sniffling, you managed a wobbly smile for her. “I’m glad.”

You were going to rip Chisaki a new one if he ever got within a ten mile radius of her again.

Eri polished off her food in a little under an hour, her swollen stomach not quite used to taking in food so rich with nutrients and you fought to keep your tail from lashing back and forth angrily at all she had been through.

Aizawa collected the empty bowls, placing them back on the tray and giving it back to the nurse outside monitoring Eri’s progress while you played with the little one.

Lowering your head, you let the tips of your ears brush across her cheeks, evoking a small giggle from the little girl as she latched onto them with her fingers, being gentle not to pull on them.

Eri kicked her feet up and even though she didn’t smile, you could see it in her eyes; a light that wasn’t present before.

“They’re fuzzy...” She trailed off quietly before hastily retracting her hands, her gaze dropping down to her lap.

Your eyes softened understandingly at her reaction and you were careful not to move any closer. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eri still flinched as you drew back slightly to give her some breathing room and you bit your lip to contain the snarl threatening to spill onto your face from where her hands trembled fearfully.

“I’m not going to hit you.” You told her gently, careful to be as soothing as you could to put her at ease.

Aizawa was watching attentively from the doorway to give you both some space while you calmed her down, ready to erase her quirk if need be but so far so good.

“People hurt me too.” You whispered softly, rolling up your sleeves to show her the multitude of scars on your arms. “And I don’t know why or what I did wrong. But things get easier.”

You smiled encouragingly when she looked up at you, as though she was asking for permission to touch them and outstretching it slowly so you didn’t startle her, you let out a shaky breath as her fingertips barely skimmed over the marred skin.

Reminders of where you came from.

“Eri-chan.”

The little girl looked up at you as you gazed at her imploringly.

“I can’t promise that you’ll feel okay all the time, but when you’re ready, I’d like to show you what the world outside looks like.” You offered, standing up and curling your tail around your hip to beckon to her.

Eri’s ruby-red orbs glistened and she swallowed hard. “Will... Will you be there?”

You nodded reassuringly. “For as long as you want me there.”

“I-I—” Eri looked down, struggling with what she wanted to say and you gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.

The hospital gardens were nothing extraordinary but it would beat this room with white-washed walls everywhere you looked. A pop of color would be good for her soul and you hoped the fresh air would steady her heart.

You held out your hand, letting it be known that she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to, the unspoken sentiment hanging in the air from where you regarded her empathetically. “What do you say, Eri-chan?”

She hesitated and for a beat, you weren’t sure what she was going to decide. But then she raised her head, her eyes shining with something that vaguely resembled determination and you smiled as her small hand slipped into yours.

“... Okay.”

Two months had passed by since then.

Eri had been moved out of the hospital and since Aizawa was the only one who could keep that quirk of hers under control until she learned how to do it herself, he was granted temporary guardianship of her.

The authorities had entrusted her to UA but on paper, she was his foster child for the time being.

Just like you had been, once upon a time.

Togata and Midoriya made the transition back into civilization easier for Eri, though the first week she wouldn’t leave their sides unless it was with you. You three were the ones she trusted the most.

Though, Aizawa came really close.

You suspected it had something to do with the small cream-colored teddy bear he bought for her while walking past the hospital gift shop on your way out that first day he brought you to see her.

They always sold things to help comfort patients during their stay and while he hesitated buying it, he ended up getting it anyway and giving it to her during her last week at the hospital so that she would have something to hold at night.

Eri had looked confused and it was almost funny how Aizawa tripped over his words trying to explain to her that he had bought this girl, who he didn’t know and wasn’t related to, a stuffed animal to bring her comfort because he was worried about her.

You, and even Shinsou, teased that he was such a softie, earning both of you a towel to the face after training at his house.

It was hours after school had let out and the sun was just starting to set.

Most students had already gone back to the dormitories. You had promised Ojiro to stop by his room before you went to bed when you got back and with that, you two parted ways.

Aizawa had taken you and Shinsou to his flat for training once you sprinted into the teachers’ lounge where both of them were waiting for you, along with Eri. Even though all the teachers had their own dorm, courtesy of the principal, he had already paid off the mortgage on the flat and he was not keen on selling it for a number of reasons.

Besides, Vlad King was allergic to cats so it wasn’t like he could just take Coffee with him.

So, while he lived in the teachers’ dorm, he went to his flat on the weekends and on their days off.

Aizawa dodged his student’s punch with a slight smirk. “Too slow.”

You were in the corner of the training arena inside of his house, playing tea party with Eri in the corner.

Aizawa had bought her a truckload of toys to entertain herself with so that she could bring things to keep herself busy when he was teaching at school. Luckily, she wasn’t fussy at all so it had taken barely any time to pick out what to buy.

Though you suggested it might have been a bit unnecessary to purchase nearly half the store.

It didn’t matter. Eri had been ecstatic once she had been told that these new toys were all hers to play with. Aizawa had to reassure her over and over again that yes, they really were hers and no, he didn’t particularly care if she broke something or decided that she didn’t want it.

She was honestly so careful in handling the neat little gadgets and play sets that he couldn’t even envision her breaking something.

You ignored the grunts and taunts coming from the middle of the room as the Shinsou and your dad sparred, flicking your tail to tickle the tip of Eri’s nose and she giggled, beaming widely at you when you exaggerated an eye roll when a thump reverberated through the ground as Shinsou was knocked onto his feet.

Eri had smiled for the first time at the school festival and you roped Midoriya into teaching you how to make candied apples so you’d always be prepared if she ever got up the courage to ask you for one directly.

For now, you were just content to have some on hand whenever she came to Heights Alliance when Aizawa needed to put out yet another fire that Bakugou set off with his explosion.

While you and Eri were playing, Shinsou was practicing his hand-to-hand combat with his mentor but every time he struck, Aizawa was always one step ahead of him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he wiped it off with a grimace before doubling back to strike again.

Aizawa maneuvered out of range easily, shoving him flat onto his back.

“Concentrate, Toshi.” He urged strictly and the teen slammed a fist on the ground in frustration before popping back up to his feet and coming at him again.

It had taken a while for Eri to get comfortable watching them spar, always worried that someone would get hurt but you had explained that Aizawa was helping her unofficial brother get stronger.

Shinsou hadn’t necessarily been taken to the idea of being someone she looked up too, it was too much pressure. He never had to be an older brother to anyone and you didn’t count since you were the same age as him.

Eventually, he warmed up to the idea, though he never told Eri that and he always denied it whenever Aizawa asked him straight out with a knowing smirk on his face.

Eri could be very persuasive when she wanted to, with her doe eyes and bright, blinding smiles that could disarm All Might himself.

Cute.

Shinsou huffed at his mentor’s impromptu rebuttal, redoubling his efforts to be able to land one hit on him before this round was over. Moving faster and faster until they both became a blur, he measured each strike and kick until his burning limbs were shrieking for him to stop.

“C’mon, Toshi, hit Dad where it hurts!!” You egged on from the sidelines and Eri threw her hands up excitedly.

“You can do it, Papa!!” She cheered.

She had gradually grown more and more comfortable calling him that, it took almost no time at all after hearing you call him that. But you all figured she deserved to have a loving father figure after all she had been through so no one teased her about it.

Even Monoma was surprisingly docile when it came to the little girl whenever you guys ran into him in the hallways.

Aizawa smiled slightly at the little girl’s encouragement but never took his eyes off of his student. Blocking his fist, he stepped closer, sweeping his leg at his feet, which Shinsou was able to dodge just in time.

“That won’t work on me twice!!” Shinsou shouted.

Hooking his foot around the elder’s ankle the second he landed firmly on his feet, Shinsou yanked him down to the floor and he landed hard.

His breath knocked clear out of his lungs, Aizawa coughed a couple of times before flashing his student a proud grin.

“Good job.”

The rare praise was curt but it transformed the expression on Shinsou’s face into one of unbridled happiness that was rare and far in between to see. He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading from ear to ear as his mentor acknowledged his victory.

“Alright, way to go, Toshi!!” You cheered alongside Eri.

“Toshi-nii, Toshi-nii, Toshi-nii!!” Eri exclaimed repeatedly in that soft voice of hers as she scrambled forward onto the training mat, raising her hands up as an indicator that she wanted to be picked up. “You won!!”

Shinsou bent down to pick her up, bouncing her on his hip a few times in the way that he knew made her laugh, poking her on the nose and grinning when she scrunched it up cutely.

“I did.” He boasted, puffing out his chest ever so slightly to make him appear manlier and you sputtered out laughing at how ridiculous he looked, to which he shot you a glare.

Eri’s eyes were shining. “You were so cool!!”

“Hey,” Aizawa frowned, feigning disappointment as he patted the back of his sweaty neck with a clean towel. “What about me?”

“Dad’s acting like a child again.” You commented as you handed him a glass of water you had previously gotten from the kitchen when you heard their fight going on.

On the way to the training area, you had run into Eri on the way there and invited her to come along so that she wouldn’t be alone. And also so that you could play with her.

Shinsou flashed you a grin. “It’s cause I kicked his butt.”

Aizawa flicked both of your foreheads to chastise you two for such an informal tone but it was light and even though you cried out dramatically and Shinsou rolled his eyes, you knew he didn’t actually care.

Much like Asui, who you found out what happened during the USJ incident had made her have a unique understanding with her teacher, you knew when to be serious and when to push the limits of your playfulness and cause no harm to your relationship in the process.

Eri reached out for you and you took her from Shinsou, sticking out your tongue in the process.

“Hah!! She likes me better!!” You gloated in his face.

He rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with a rag as he echoed your words from before. “You’re such a child.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am—”

“Okay, and that is the last of that.” Aizawa interrupted before you could carry on into a screaming match and then he would have to be the one to somehow get you two to stop fighting all the while calming Eri down, who would be crying cause her siblings were arguing.

Much like you, she was sensitive to loud noises and raised volumes and he couldn’t always use pats on the head with her since her interactions with Chisaki mostly consisted of—

Aizawa shook his head. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. The things that man did to this child was horrifying. It almost made him wish he was a villain just so that he could have the satisfaction of killing him.

But what mattered most was that Eri was out of there and that she was never going back.

Gazing fondly as Eri petted one of your ears that you offered to her, a soft smile slipped onto his face. The two of you were damn cute. And he was so proud that he got to call you his own kids.

Sensing movement out of the corner of his eye, he quickly sidestepped Shinsou’s surprise attack, the shocked look that crossed his student’s face at his reaction time was priceless.

“C’mon kid, you can do better than that.” He smirked, balancing on his feet and drawing up his fists for another bout. “One more round before dinner.”

Shinsou nodded determinedly. “Bring it on, sensei.”

Needless to say, that one was a draw. But only because Shinsou couldn’t get out of his mentor’s headlock.

Aizawa was too smart to fall for the brainwashing trick.

As they started to argue over who won, Aizawa clearly going to win the battle of words, you ushered Eri out of the room.

You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder as she grabbed her tea party set on the way out. “Want to help me start dinner until those two get over their ego?”

Eri nodded eagerly even though she didn’t really understand what an ego was. All she heard was dinnertime and that meant food.

“Yes!!” She cheered excitedly and you picked her up as she lifted her arms.

A growl of annoyance sounded from the other room.

“Y/N, I heard that.”

You could practically envision your dad’s glower and quickened your pace, holding in your giggles along with Eri.

It was rocky, but somehow in the midst of all the bad, you had come out with the perfect family.

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years ago

Text

Diamond in the Cold

Summary: While on the run, Marion is ready to abandon every last piece of the world she knows just to survive. After all, she hasn’t been herself in years. Then a stranger saves her life and she learns there is much more of her to rediscover than she’d ever suspected. Aladdin AU.

If I ever manage to get to it, there will be more chapters to this. For now, though, it exists as a one-shot indefinitely.

CW for discussions of murder, death and poverty.

"Let go of me!" Marion twisted her wrist viciously to no avail. Her strength was nothing compared to the man's grip on her. "I command you." The gleam of the golden domes of the palace flashed in her eyes from the distance to cut off her voice, her oxygen, her logic.

"You command me?" The man laughed amidst the anger still steaming from him, the sound piercing through her like a lightning bolt. He shoved his face into hers, the stench of his cologne exploding in her mind to make the world spin. The musky notes were like little daggers digging in her brain to spill blood as red as the apple she'd taken. "Perhaps you'd like to command the guard patrols?" the merchant growled like she'd only heard dogs do. "I'm sure they take orders from a common thief."

She had no power left. Not to her voice and not to her name. All of her authority had evaporated overnight as if she wasn't getting colder by the second despite the sweat beads rolling down her temple. Instinct burned through her, her muscles tensing before she pounced.

The unloaded fruits from the crates she hopped on rolled out from under her feet to nearly trip her on her second jump. Her soles connected with the man's chest and she kicked him in the ribs, using all her might to thrust herself away. The harsh tug on her arm blocked her vision with stars.

The limb was still attached and aching as her body thumped against the dirty street, her head ringing from the impact forcing all her air out. Pain pulsed through her but she pulled herself up to the sight of a bunch of guards surrounding her. The hurt buzzing in her bones had muffled the merchant's voice calling for them but she was cornered all the same, the sharp tips of their spears stalking closer inch by inch to poke her eyes out with the dead end she was facing.

A warm hand gripped her forearm as a blur of purple conquered her vision. "Come on!" A woman's voice sliced her loose from her stupor to allow her to be swept away.

Her arm protested against the rough motions and her feet scrambled to keep up despite eagerly following the path of escape. Her lungs burned fiercely, quite like the sight of the guards in her mind's eye. As tempting as it was, throwing a look over her shoulder would leave her plopping down and being dragged the rest of the way to wherever they were going or until they were caught. The guards could have fallen behind long ago thanks to the stranger's excellent navigation and maneuvering skills or they could be a breath away. She couldn't tell with the heart in her throat pounding louder than their feet hitting the ground as they rushed through an impossible to remember series of narrow streets and passageways. Her head was spinning again from all the turns they took to erase the directions of the world.

The woman ducked in a claustrophobic, shadowy alley that was more of a niche under the eaves of two houses and pulled her to the wall with their backs pressed against it.

The stranger's hand clamped over her mouth in the midst of her sucking in a breath. "Quiet!" the same urgent tone hissed in her ear to freeze everything around them. All that was left was the noise in her own system and the heat radiating from her savior and/or potential kidnapper next to her as the seconds trickled to an agonizingly slow rhythm.

The proximity of danger unfurled in a vicious burn as her lungs struggled to catch up with the distance she'd left between her and her past life. The darkness of the alley crawled over her body to swallow her but she had nothing to grasp at without exposing herself. She had to choke down the shivers from the black wrapping her on the inside the same way emptiness spread in her chest.

A galloping pack of guards passed the narrow slip between the houses without a glance spared in their direction to set her free of the tension of the chase in her muscles. Now for the next hurdle.

Marion's teeth sank into thin air as the woman released her. Despite the footing she'd lost, she had her eyes on the purple-haired mystery in one quick spin. She couldn't afford more surprises.

"You have to be the worst thief I've ever seen," the woman chided, her gaze skirting Marion's mouth. She'd caught her red-handed sending the heat spreading over her neck and cheeks. "What were you thinking?" Two golden eyes bore into her with the might of all the sunlight they caught out of the cover of the niche.

"I am not a thief!" Marion's pride reared its ugly head over the screaming wariness in her head. She had to find a way out of the city, not get deeper into trouble. "Why did you save me?" And how much would it cost her?

"Of course not! A thief wouldn't just grab an apple in plain sight. What did you expect? That he would give it to you with his regards?" Each word was another hard slap in the face but the woman's anger hit differently. Trusting a perfect stranger would be her biggest mistake yet. Regardless of how deep the lines carved into the face in front of her with each fiery breath to spell out the woman's concern. Why was she so involved with Marion's case if it weren't for personal gain?

"Answer my question!" Marion lifted her chin to stare any malicious intent down but her intimidating glare wasn't coming through.

The golden eyes narrowed at her–in contemplation or suspicion–and the woman stepped closer, invading her personal space. She studied her intently with Marion's stubbornness anchoring her in place where their faces were almost touching.

She could see every pore on the woman's face. The wrinkles were etched painfully into her ashen complexion. It was all an aggressive reminder of an old book with pages ready to crumble into dust despite the powerful knowledge they held. It drew Marion's fingers to run them over the coarse surface in hopes of soaking up the wisdom before it perished.

The down-turned corners of the woman's mouth tugging on her pale lips caught Marion short. They'd drain her blood to feed their own redness if she dared reach for them. The ginger of her curls wasn't nearly intense enough next to the woman's deep purple strands framing her face like a painting capturing the beauty and grace of a long lost time. Marion could swear the stranger was decades older than her–not to mention towering over her average height–if not for the wells of her eyes.

Light was pouring from them reined in by the lines of tiredness carved all around. The gold was still lively and stroking over the forest green of Marion's irises like the sun, with the warmth she'd known before adulthood had kicked her in the gut like an out of control horse.

The heavy fabric she'd draped herself in didn't have the thickness to cover her from the woman's gaze.

"That's the finest silk I've seen despite the fatigue."

It had torn off sending Marion falling in the tree under her chamber's window when she'd used old bed covers to climb out.

"And the supple leather..." The improvised cloak wasn't long enough to wrap her from head to toe leaving her trousers sticking out and drawing attention. "You're the princess," the golden stare burned through her pupils.

The world slipped from her sweaty palms. "I am not."

"What's your name then?"

"What's yours?" Marion challenged, eyes locked with the stranger. There was still time for the woman to bury her despite her help.

"Griffin... Your Highness." A sly glint set the golden on fire.

"Don't call me that!" Marion marched forward, forcing the other woman to crouch away. It was the first pulse of power she'd felt all day. She couldn't let go despite drawing her own blood where her nails dug in her palms. "I'm on the run from an arranged marriage. That's all." How she wished that could be the problem of her life. She'd stopped looking for love long ago. But she couldn't have given up on the very breath in her lungs.

"Doesn't mean you can't be the princess. And you are." Griffin had found her ground again and didn't give her a chance to protest. "You don't know enough about the life outside the palace, hence the expensive clothes and the near-death experience over an apple. Not to mention your attitude of spoiled royalty and your resemblance to the princess."

"How could you know what I look like?" Her eyes screwed shut but not nearly soon enough to protect her from the sight of her failure. She'd given herself away. "No one outside the palace has seen me before," she looked at Griffin for a sign of how deep she'd sunk. Maybe she could still escape. Griffin was faster than her and had better knowledge of the area but she was running for her life. All Griffin would get for her was money. Not enough to rival her motivation.

"I knew it." The smugness rolled off of Griffin in waves without suffocating Marion. There was too much softness to the genuine content for it to be malicious. But it could always be an illusion meant to trick her. She couldn't even trust her instincts. "There are rumors about you. You can't keep anything hidden forever, least of all the princess."

Marion wasn't so sure. In the palace the truth rarely survived and never long enough to see the sun.

"As you're proving here, running away from your responsibilities," Griffin's words cut to the bone with her sharp tongue stuck right in Marion's bleeding wounds.

"I am not running away. Just getting to know my city... my people." She had no people, no guards, no family. She was alone... She was a prey. She would die if she said the wrong thing to the wrong person. How to tell if Griffin was the right person?

"I thought you were on the run from an arranged marriage." Griffin raised a brow at her to punch her with her own weakness thrown in her face so casually. She was running out of options.

"No, I... lied about that. I would never abandon my responsibilities just to run away from a man." There were monsters after her.

"You're about as good a liar as you are a thief," Griffin spun around, her braid swinging after her like a whip the crack of which deafened Marion.

Would she turn her back on her and dissolve into the nothing she'd come from to save her life? No explanation, no price... Just the crippling loneliness that Marion had carried strapped to her back her whole life. It would crush her as if all of the capitol had been pushed on her head to balance like a book.

"If you really want to see the city, follow me," Griffin's voice drew tears from her and her retreating form as she walked further into the dark alley clawed at Marion's voice that refused to come out again.

She bolted after Griffin struggling to keep up with her and falling behind. Griffin maneuvered with ease through the crowded passageways, narrow even without the obstacles in the way, and climbed the rooftops like a monkey.

Marion had seen a monkey once when they'd been visited by the Linphean royals at the palace. It had been offered as a gift to them but her mother had rejected it. It hadn't been comely and refined enough to fit in. It had been for the best. The poor animal would have died in the palace. Everything did. Including her own mother who had been cut from diamonds and fire.

Marion shook her head to drop the images out of it. It was hard following Griffin anyway, no matter how intensely she focused on her frame. Her gaze never lingered long there, chased away by the pointy bones poking the skin from underneath. The air of light and friendliness to her was lost without the brightness of her eyes to mask away the sharp edges Griffin was made of. Her body looked worn away but she used the thinness to her advantage to make her way through places Marion had to hold her breath to pass through. Resilience cloaked her like an aura to transform her frailness into a testament of her will and determination to live.

Marion collided with the hard wall that Griffin was as she stumbled over the debris-covered staircase of a crumbling library. The floor creaked under every one of their steps and the wind howled menacingly through the holes in the walls with the possibility of knocking the ceiling on their heads.

Griffin's hands on her shoulders steadied her and guided her to an opening of missing bricks with a view of the city. "This is my favorite place... at night. You can see the stars sprinkled on the night sky."

Marion followed Griffin's gaze to the holes in the roof mercilessly letting through the scorching rays of the sun currently. At night it would be a beautiful sight, though. Patches of sky shining with starlight just for those that were awake as the world kept spinning towards morning. She'd spent full nights gazing at the infinite open space of the sky. No walls to keep you locked in, no people to stab you in the back for the crown breaking your neck. Just freedom.

The rumbling of her stomach was like a thunder sending her heart shooting up into her throat again where she couldn't swallow it instead of the food she didn't have. She folded her arms over her belly in hopes of muffling its desperation. Her chest was empty too but that Griffin couldn't hear so Marion hadn't had to train her gaze on the floor in an attempt to make it collapse and swallow her.

"Wait here."

Griffin was gone before Marion's eyes had touched her again. Now was her chance to run. She could make the trek down the stairs and disappear without sparing a glance at what she was leaving behind like Griffin had done. She had to. She had no idea what Griffin would bring back... or who, now that she knew her identity. But where would she go? She couldn't even fend for herself. She had no food, let alone a means of transportation outside the city. She couldn't have left behind a trail of gold or jewels from the palace.

She stepped closer to the hole framing the landscape like a painting. The floorboards wailed under her feet to twist her arm into backing away but her mind was captured by the view. She'd seen a lot following Griffin. She'd had her eyes locked on the unreachable shadow of a woman in front of her but she'd still caught glimpses of more than she'd wanted to.

The houses had been small and huddled together with cracks and holes in their facades and roof tiles scattered across the damaged roofs that surely leaked when it rained. The streets had been dirty and cramped in an impossible tangle, the ground unevenly covered with pavement that had dug into Marion's soles even through the hard leather of her shoes although Griffin had walked barefoot. The laundry they'd seen draped on clotheslines above the streets had been ragged and dusty, patching all over the fatigued fabric. She'd kept her eyes down and her step snappy when passing by people but she'd noticed a couple children playing with pebbles and sticks in the dirt.

The large-scale view from the library was gut-wrenching – ruins and poverty everywhere. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but little houses barely waiting for the next snow to cave in and bury their occupants. How could a glorious kingdom like Domino fall from grace so fast? Her mother's illness had lasted just a couple years before she'd been disposed of. What had the three old witches done to destroy Marion's land so promptly?

A howl startled her with its tangibility before she figured it was the building's announcement of Griffin's return and not her own heart. Her muscles tensed, ready to pounce as she turned around to find Griffin with a satchel thrown over her shoulder. There was a weight straining it from inside but it definitely wasn't a battalion of guards coming to drag her back to her death in the palace.

"Here," Griffin reached in the satchel and pulled out a loaf of bread. It was fresh, the warm scent wafting off of it making Marion salivate. She'd been out on the streets for half a day and she'd already regressed into an animal. "Careful not to burn your fingers, princess." Griffin grinned at her and handed her a third of the hot bread. The rest she put away in the satchel instead of biting into it.

"So you're a competent thief?" Marion chomped down on the bread in her hands. She had to strangle the moan coming out at the divine taste. She had more questions but her stomach was only concerned with its own emptiness. How Griffin could resist the call of the hot bread in her satchel was beyond her.

"Someone has to be," Griffin smirked at her again but her eyes remained unmoved. At least until she focused on Marion and her pitiful attempts not to drop the loaf as it scorched her fingers. "Warned you," Griffin chimed at her but the playful sound died at the look of the city below them. "I hate this place in the daytime." She picked up the edge of a brick that had broken off and threw it at the wall opposite of her, making more of the red chip away.

Marion swallowed with a degree of difficulty but didn't comment on the potential danger of bringing down an already collapsing building. "Why does the city look like that?" Budgeting for public‐facility and infrastructure maintenance and repair was a main concern of the ruler and the royal advisors. It should have made life easier and safer for people. The failure was unbearable to look at.

"It's always been like that." Griffin could have pushed her off the building and it would have been less painful. She stopped breathing for the second time that day. "It's getting worse, of course, and fast at that but it's been a couple decades since all of this started."

What? Impossible.

"What about the maintenance?" The bread was burning her fingers but she was so cold on the inside she could barely feel it.

"Maintenance?" Griffin's voice was cracking ice and Marion would drown in the water below. "Only certain esteemed areas get maintenance. The inner city around the palace and the main streets officials take in and out of the city. The estates of influential merchants here and there. And that's about it. Even schools and museums are falling apart along with other cultural centers. Look around if you find it unbelievable," Griffin gestured to the disemboweled library around them.

Marion approached her hesitantly with slow and light steps she hoped wouldn't disturb the place or Griffin. "Do you... read?" It was an insensitive question, or at least way of asking, especially when the answer was obvious. But the rawness Griffin was bleeding filled the silence in her chest, the stillness of her lungs.

"My parents taught me when I was little. They hoped I'd go to school but we couldn't afford the textbooks. I wasn't good at breaking and entering back then. I have a small collection of books at home that I've stolen and read over and over again until I memorized them because I was scared one day they would fall apart in my hands from all the reading and terrible storage conditions." Griffin's eyes were on fire and melting like lava Marion has never seen in person before. Only through pictures. It would leak out of her eyes. "I had to get my smarts and skills on the street while my parents worked their lives away for scraps. Looking at the city reminds me that I am not alone in that suffering. So many other people know it as well. Every day many of them don't make it." Griffin stepped towards her as if to run her down and Marion had to retreat.

"No," Marion shook her head, the loaf crushed in her fist for the crumbs to rain through the holes in the floor.

"This is your kingdom, princess," she poked her in the chest with a finger. "Seen enough of it yet?" Griffin grabbed her hand and dragged her between the rubble covering the floor. "Time to go back to the palace."

"I can't," Marion pulled back only to find herself in an iron grip again.

"I'm sure you'll find your way. You can ask someone." Griffin was cold like the crown she'd worn on her head, like the corpse of her mother as she'd imagined it. She'd never seen it, concerned with not becoming one as well.

"I can't!" Marion dug her heels in the fragile remains of the library. It would either save her or bury them both. Better than being thrown to the wolves. "They'll kill me," she cried at the unmoved mask that Griffin's face had become. "My mother's advisors got rid of her and they are lying to the whole kingdom about it. They wanted me to marry their son," Griffin didn't question the logistics of that – whether because she was familiar with Valtor's family situation and his three mother figures or because she didn't care. "I refused because they'd use him to steal my throne so they've been trying to kill me ever since. My sister has agreed to marry in my stead and I had to leave her behind and run." It all spilled from her against her better judgment if she'd ever had it.

There were no tears to accompany her story. She hadn't cried for her mother and she couldn't cry for herself now. She wasn't done for yet. Maybe Griffin could help.

"So you are running away like a coward?" Griffin let go of her hand so that she wouldn't go down with Marion as well when she shattered.

"Weren't you listening to me?" How could she say that? She knew what it was to struggle for survival. They were just young girls forced to fight for their lives. They shouldn't be attacking each other.

"I heard, yes. You're going to leave a kingdom that's already falling apart in the hands of three monsters that took down the royal family – supposedly the most powerful family in the world." Griffin approached her again to loom over her. "You're dooming your people by abandoning them."

Marion gritted her teeth. "My death won't help anyone." She looked at the shapeless bread in her fist. "Thanks for the lunch," she shoved past Griffin. Any second in those ruins could cost her the freedom she'd always wanted, the freedom she was reaching for now.

"Go ahead!" Griffin goaded her. She would not turn. She would not fall for it. "Run. You'll be dead by the end of the day."

Marion whipped around, her balance not sufficient for the terrain. She had to put her arms out to steady herself on her feet – like a helpless baby chick. Not the threat she'd been trying to pose even though Griffin already knew she was out of options.

"I'm not going to sell you out. I'm not stupid enough to put myself in the line of sight of those monsters," Griffin saw right through her. Wouldn't she stop doing that? It left her skin crawling with all the things she couldn't bury deep inside herself now that Griffin had pulled them out to unravel them. "You will be your own death. You have no plan, no idea where you're going, no resources or skills to fend for yourself, let alone reclaim the throne. You'll kill not just yourself but the whole kingdom."

Marion's last warmth flickered out inside her. "I should just lay down and die then? Decay like this place?" She'd been promised the world on the very day of her birth. How had she come to having no prospects at all? How had she lost a whole palace, a whole kingdom?

"You should fight. You can't abandon the people that depend on you, and yourself."

She'd never been herself. It hadn't been becoming of a princess. And now she was a nobody. "How am I supposed to fight if I can't even save myself?" It was easy for Griffin to drop the paradox on her head for her to solve because of her blood. She hadn't asked for a crown or a throne. Just the opportunity to make her own choices.

"That's it. You've already given up on fighting for yourself, for who you are. You're insulted I suggested that you're betraying your people but you're passing the crown like it's not your birthright and responsibility."

"I am not the crown." All her life the crown on her head had been the only thing fitting. Every other part of her had been imperfect, unworthy, insufficient for the queen her mother had been... for the queen she was supposed to be. Without the crown on her head she didn't even have a home. Maybe she could have a life.

"No, but it's the people that wear the crown that make all the difference. Look at this!" Griffin gestured around them. "This is what they did without the crown, without a throne. Are you really going to give it to them?"

"It's very easy for you to say that when you haven't felt its weight."

"You think it's easy? You think this," Griffin pointed to the ruins of the city, "is easy? We live and die by their rules just like you. Your problems are our problems and vice versa. This is your kingdom, your people, and you know nothing about it!"

"Stop saying that!" Marion's shout startled her as well. Too loud. Just like they always said. The people needed a queen, not her. She'd fit the mold no matter how much of herself she'd had to shed away.

"It's the truth." Griffin didn't rise to her level but didn't quit either. She probably didn't know what the word meant. "You know nothing about your own city. You're a foreigner in your land. If you go out there, you won't make it out alive. You'll get lost in the maze of streets or get captured by the guards or get yourself killed for a bite of food. You can't survive a city you don't belong in and that doesn't belong to you."

"You don't know me!"

"You don't know me either. You know nothing about none of your subjects. I have a mother and a sister, too, that will starve to death without me." She'd been saving the bread for them. "I risked my life to save you. Not because you're the princess, but because if we don't take care of each other, we all die. You can't survive by running from your roots. I didn't want to be a thief, I hate this view in the daylight, I only eat after my mother and sister have. This is my life. I don't like it but I live it because if I throw that one away, I don't get to pick another one. I die. And there are people who depend on me, including you, today in particular, and I can't abandon you. I can't abandon myself because one day I might look at the city and see it rise from the ashes but that will never happen if I join them."

She was right. If Griffin had given up in the past, Marion would be dead right now. And if she gave up, more people would suffer and die. She would suffer and die. "Help me."

"What?" First time she'd taken Griffin by surprise.

"Help me. You know the city so you can guide me. You can be my voice of the people. And your breaking and entering skills might be useful. You said it yourself – my problems are yours. Help me solve them so you can look out to the city without dying every time you do." She'd offer her hand if she was sure Griffin would take it. It was an overwhelming proposal.

"I work alone."

"And where has that gotten you?"

Griffin considered her for a moment before looking her over from head to toe. "We have to get you some clothes. You look like a walking pot of gold."

"How did you manage to make that offensive?" Marion shook her head but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The first one since her mother had died.

"I have many talents, princess," Griffin curtsied theatrically. The first clumsy action Marion had seen from her. They had a lot to learn about each other.

"My name is Marion." For the first time it didn't sound like a death sentence.

p { margin-bottom: 0.25cm; direction: ltr; color: #00000a; line-height: 120%; text-align: left; orphans: 2; widows: 2 }p.western { font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; so-language: bg-BG }p.cjk { font-family: "WenQuanYi Micro Hei"; font-size: 12pt; so-language: zh-CN }p.ctl { font-family: "Lohit Devanagari"; font-size: 12pt; so-language: hi-IN }a:link { so-language: zxx }

#winx club #winx marion #winx griffin #griffin x marion #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #aladdin au #200fc

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shadow-scenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I really love your scenarios and headcanons!! They're all so well written I just love reading them! Could you write a scenario where Akechi's s/o is an artist and he's just super supportive of them and absolutely loves their art? Ty!!

Thank you, Anon!! :)

You’re too way too nice to me, I’m running out of things to say. Just know that I think you’re all really cool as well.

Art is a very valid thing & I will fight anyone that says otherwise because it is in most things that we use today. Even my profile picture is the work of someone else!!

- Nexus.

Perspective

Trigger Warning:

None.

Genre:

Fluff.

Description:

Being an artist can be tough. When a local competition opens up, Akechi is there to support his significant other.

“ My dear, you should really take a break. ”

That was all Akechi seemed to have been saying for the past few hours. Scuffed paper lay on the ground, surrounded by various different forms of medium. Cautiously stepping over a cup of paint water, he took their hand & gently started to pull them away from their canvass. Though their sketchbook was open right next to them with the first designs & etchings on the paper, none of it translated into reality. It was as though static fog covered their mind when they tried to lift their pencil.

He had been watching their turmoil as he filed out paperwork. Usually the process of hearing shading or the sound of a paintbrush was something Akechi found cathartic but seeing them frustrated was less so. In a nonchalant fashion did he take them away from their work, offering to instead talk to gain a new insight into things.

“ There’s a competition I want to enter that’s in a few days. You enter a single piece & the winner gets a bunch of Yen. I think there’s second & third place prizes as well? It’s just that... Well, I can’t find any inspiration. Maybe I’m just getting worse— ”

Their ramblings were cut off as he ever so gently took their hand. His grip was right, but not comfortable. As they looked between both their interlocked hands & Akechi’s all too tight smile that did not quite reach his eyes, there was something quite calming about the gelid touch of his leather gloves.

“ Your art is superb & you’ve worked incredibly hard to get this far. Every day I see you sketching or finding ideas for your latest piece & I can’t help but find myself stunned by your work. Entering this competition is your choice but forcing yourself to work for the sake of money mightn’t do you good. Maybe we should try going somewhere else so you can find inspiration? I know I said that I’d like to stay in today but there’s a place I know of that is quiet. We won’t be disturbed by anyone & you may even find some inspiration. ”

Once their agreement was made clear & they had dressed themselves in their usual amount of decorum, Akechi took their hand & whisked them away. The walk felt short despite being around 20 minutes, as artificial light illuminated the streets. The stars were resplendent on this night as they walked & though there was a vast amount of light pollution, some constellations could be made out.

A Jazz Bar in Kichijoji was not what they were expecting. Quaint but modest tables lined the outskirts & there was a vague vellichor about the place: That it, it reminded them of the wistfulness & age of a bookstore. Even as Akechi casually greeted the supposed manager of the establishment, his composure seemed less... Unrealistic?

Vibrant blue drinks were eventually placed in front of the two of them as music began to stream from an unknown source. There was no singer tonight which was disappointing but at least they could sit back & enjoy the ambience. Muted conversation was exchanged about unrelated topics as the drinks were stately drained & only did the two realise the time when a phone notification disturbed their peaceful moment.

A few days later, they decided to enter the competition. Something about that bar revitalised their passion for the arts & so swiftly did they tear through different design ideas before they finally settled on something constant. Even the struggle they had to visualise it melted away. No one saw the piece until it was unveiled at the exhibit & was given the third place prize. Akechi congratulated them with a gentle kiss & another promise to take them to the Jazz Club when the two were less fatigued by the day’s events.

Word Count: 630

Publish Date: 01.11.20

#{ crow }#{ my idiot ass forgetting to edit out my little plan oops }#persona 5 imagines #persona #persona 5 scenarios #persona x reader #p5r #persona 5 #persona 5 royal x reader #persona 5 x reader #goro akechi x reader #akechi #goro akechi #akechi x reader

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amanda-teaches · 5 years ago

Text

Into the Woods (2)

Part 2 of 2- Read Part 1 here.

Summary: When disaster strikes a fairy tale forest wedding, Y/N must take charge to save the lives of herself and her friends. Will she be able to survive being hunted while trapped in the woods?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Hurt/Comfort for @spndeanbingo

Word Count: 3084

Warnings: Swearing, show level violence and gore, suspense, werewolf attack, fighting, hurt character, unconsciousness, fluff, cheesy jokes

A/N: About 64,000 years ago, I entered a challenge the wonderful @foreverwayward was having for hitting 500 followers. Well, there wasn’t a due date, because she’s the sweetest, so I kept saying I would get to it and get to it, and then I never did. Well, surprise, here it is! This is the second part of a 2-part miniseries, and the challenge quotes, from The Hangover and The Big Bang Theory, are bolded within. Enjoy!!!

Previously...

Together, the three of them pushed a large wooden table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, in front of the door. “There, that should hold, for a while at least.”

Dean nodded, only half listening, continuing to stare out the window, his eyes darting back and forth at any sign of movement. You looked back up at him, taking in the determined set of his jaw. It surprisingly made you feel just a little bit safer. “So, now what?”

“Now, we wait,” he responded, without even looking down at you. “We don’t want to risk fighting them if we don’t have to, not with this many civilians. Our only hope is to hole up here and wait for morning. It’ll be easier to get you all out in the daylight.”

“Oh, will it?!” You sighed. Frickin’ Tim.

Dean and you turned in unison to find him defiantly staring you down, hands on hips. You were already regretting this conversation. “Look, I don’t know who put you in charge, Captain America, but why should we listen to you? You storm in here with your giant sasquatch of a brother and start ordering us around, telling us when we can and can’t leave. We don’t even know you!”

Well, to be fair, you didn’t know Tim either. Thank God for that. “Hey, back off, Tim…”

Dean put his hand on your arm, stopping you. “No, it’s okay. He’s right, none of you know us, but we do this for a living. My brother and I, we hunt monsters like this every day, and we’re damn good at it. So, know us or not, we’re your best chance of getting out of here alive.”

A silence fell over the group, but, looking up at Dean, you didn’t hesitate to be the first one to break it. “I believe him. I think we should trust them.”

“Me too,” Lindsay echoed, and Aidan nodded his agreement, along with a bunch of the other guests. You looked at Tim who clenched his teeth and frowned before finally nodding. “Fine.”

Dean smiled, pushing right past the drama. “Okay, then. We’re about as secure as we can be right now. Everyone should hunker down and try to get some rest so we’re fresh in the morning.”

You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for just a second. Feeling like the energy had drained out of you, you walked slowly towards the far wall and sat down by Lindsay. Groaning, you crossed one of your feet up over your knee and began massaging it gently. Lindsay looked over at you and grimaced. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You frowned as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Just the results of running around barefoot in the forest. You?”

“I’m fine, I’m f…” Her voice broke as sobs began to rack through her body.

“Lindsay!” you cried, waving at Aidan to get his attention. He moved over immediately, taking his wife into his arms. “What’s wrong, are you okay?”

She nodded against her husband’s chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. “Yeah, it’s just my wedding, my, my family.”

“I think it’s all starting to sink in,” Aidan whispered, looking over her head at you. “It��s going to take a minute.”

You thought about the slim odds of everyone out there having gotten away. “Or a lot of minutes…” Sighing, your eyes drifted over to Sam and Dean by the door, spreading the contents of their duffel bag out on the table. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Aidan nodded as you rose up, making your way over to the two hunters. “What are you guys doing? I thought you said we were safe here.”

“We are,” Dean said. He scrunched up his face, tilting his head to the side. “Mostly.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, better safe than sorry. We’re taking count of everything we brought just in case we missed anything that could help.”

You glanced down at the table, your eyes skipping over the variety of weapons until they settled on a brown bag. Stifling a laugh, you held your hand to your mouth. “And, how exactly does a man purse fight off werewolves?”

“Okay, first of all,” he insisted, holding up a finger. “It’s not a man purse. It’s called a satchel. Indiana Jones wears one. And, B,” he smirked at you, holding up a second finger. “Shut up.”

You laughed, freely, earning a vibrant smile from Dean. You saw Sam grin quietly on the other side of you, but you dismissed it, figuring you must’ve been imagining it had anything to do with you. “Can I help?”

Dean regarded you for a second, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Half an hour later, the three of you had all the weapons cataloged, and you’d found a smaller silver dagger and necklace Dean figured he could use in a pinch. Not bad, Sam had declared. You stretched your arms over your head and yawned, unable to help the fatigue that had been creeping up on you all night.

Dean noticed right away. “You should get some rest.”

“No, no, I’m okay…”

“Y/N, it’s not gonna do you any good to be exhausted later. Sleep when the werewolves are sleeping.”

You smirked. “Did you just make a ‘sleep when the baby sleeps’ reference?”

He laughed and opened his mouth to respond, but Tim got there first. “Yeah, Y/N,” he yelled out from his spot propped up against the wall, his eyes closed. “You should get some rest so the two of you will stop flirting and keeping the rest of us awake.”

“Wow,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows. “He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?”

You nodded, chuckling. “I heard that!” Tim yelled. “Good night. And, if there’s an apocalypse? Good luck.”

You shook your head, laughing even harder, but that made you start to feel like you could barely stay standing. “Yeah, I guess I should probably get some sleep.” You looked around, seeing that most of them were either already there or well on their way. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

He nodded. “Where would I go?”

“Yeah, right,” you smiled. You started to walk away, but then you reconsidered, turning back. “Hey, when this is all over, you maybe want to get a coffee or something?”

His eyes widened, and, for a second, you thought you saw excitement, but then he clenched his jaw, his face clouding. “Um, you know, we don’t really stick around town once a case is done, and…”

You waved your hand, trying to play it cool and mask the embarrassed disappointment that was flooding through you. “No need to explain. I totally get it.”

He opened his mouth, but you turned before he could say anything else, rushing off to go lay down. You heard Sam mutter “dude” behind you, but you kept walking, until you were settled on the floor by Lindsay and Aidan. They were already fast asleep.

“Some wedding night they’re having,” you whispered, peeking over at Dean, only to find him staring right back at you. Quickly, you shut your eyes before he could see you, drifting off to sleep moments later.

The morning seemed to come all too soon, the bright sunlight providing a rather rude awakening. You felt like you hadn’t slept at all, rolling out your aching muscles as you sat up on the hard floor. Most everyone was still asleep, but Dean was in the same spot, standing by the door, looking like he hadn’t moved a muscle all night.

At the sight of him, you blushed, the memory of your rejection from last night ringing out clearly in your head, but you pushed it aside. You were hiding out from werewolves for God’s sake, you could be an adult for 5 seconds and not act like a total weirdo around the guy who’d probably saved your life. So, what if he didn’t like you, right? You’d live.

Looking up, you caught sight of his perfectly tousled hair and newly grown stubble, and you sighed. Sure...easier said than done. Damn, why’d he have to look so good, too?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You looked over at Lindsay, who had, at some point during your weird internal monologue, woken up and was now sitting, staring at you with the silliest smile on her face. “What?!”

“Oh, you know what!” she loudly whispered to you. “You’re totally checking him out.”

“I am not,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “Besides, he’s not interested.”

“Mhmm, sure.”

“He’s not,” you whispered back, turning your head towards her. “He practically told me as much last night.”

“Y/N, I’m sure he’s just on edge with the whole…” She frowned and bit her lower lip, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes before she shook them away. “Situation. Besides, no one in their right mind would turn you down. You should go over there and show him just how amazing you are.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lindsay, I don’t think that’s what’s important right now.”

“Trust me,” she said, her smile bittersweet as she looked over at her sleeping husband. “There aren’t a lot of things more important than love right now. Mine is pretty much the only thing keeping me going.”

You sighed softly and pulled her into a hug. “We’re going to be okay, Lindsay. We’ll get through this.”

She sniffled against your shoulder, nodding slightly. You gave her a reassuring smile as you pulled back, taking her return of it as your cue to stand up and make your way over to Dean.

You swallowed as you grew closer, gathering the courage to talk to him. “Morning. Did you get any sleep last night?”

His head turned towards you, and he smiled. “A little.” He paused and stared at you, his expression sobering. “Look, about last night…”

You held your hand up, stopping him. “You don’t have to explain.” Before he could argue, you changed the subject. “So, it’s morning. Are they still out there?”

He continued to stare at you for a second, and then he shook his head. “There’s no way to know for sure, but we haven’t seen any movement in a while. Sam,” he said, nodding back at where his brother was, beginning to wake people up, “is getting everyone ready so we can try to get you all out of here.” He paused and pulled one of the silver knives from his waistband. “Here, I want you to have this.”

“Dean, I’m not really a…”

“You’re tough, Y/N. I don’t have any doubt you can take care of yourself. Besides, when we’re out there, the more people we have armed the better. It’s easy. When, in doubt, just aim for the heart.”

You hesitated, but reached your hand out to grasp it. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “Oh, you’re also gonna need these.” He bent over and reached into the duffel bag, pulling out an old, worn pair of shoes. “They may be a little big for you, but…”

“They’ll do,” you laughed, grabbing the shoes with your other hand and slipping them on. They definitely felt roomy, but it was way better than being barefoot. “Thank you, Dean, really.”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but Sam interrupted. “Everyone’s up. We good?”

Dean nodded, stepping towards the door. “Remember,” he whispered as he moved past you, “aim for the heart. Okay, everyone,” he said, raising his voice. “We only got one shot at this, so stay together and stay alert. We’re gonna try to get you out of here as quickly as we can.”

You looked down at the knife in your hand and tightened your grip. You could feel your hand start to shake, but you inhaled, breathing deeply. “You can do this,” you whispered, moving forward as Dean opened the door.

He held it open and waved everyone through, with Sam leading the way. Dean took up the rear, keeping the group together in a tight formation. They moved silently, their bodies on high alert, and the rest of the group followed suit, staying as quiet as possible, eyes scanning the forest anxiously.

You stayed close to Dean, feeling safer with his presence than you felt with the knife in your hand. You were walking back in the direction you’d came, towards the clearing they’d used for the wedding and the safety of the cars beyond it. Sam seemed to know where he was going, and you made it deep into the forest in no time at all. Soon, you began to recognize your surroundings, and you got excited, realizing you were getting close.

Then, it all went to hell.

They came out of nowhere, surrounding you on all sides. There were at least six or seven of them, and they moved like bullets, fast and powerful. You heard a scream, but Dean was in front of you before you could blink, stabbing his knife into the closest werewolf. It dropped instantly, and you heard two shots from the other side of you, Sam joining the fight.

Lindsay screamed, and you turned, seeing a werewolf advancing on her and Aidan. Dean was still pulling his knife out of the first one, and Sam was too far, so you knew you had to do something. You ran, jumping onto the werewolf’s back and stabbing your own knife into its chest. It struggled for a bit, but you held on, using all of your strength to push the knife in deeper, until the werewolf dropped to its knees under you.

Letting go of the knife, you stood up and backed away, staring down in horror at what you’d just done. You glanced up, wildly looking around, and you spotted Dean fighting with one just feet from you. He had his knife poised, but he didn’t notice the other werewolf coming up behind him.

“Dean!” you screamed. He plunged his knife into the monster he was fighting and turned towards the sound of your voice, still unaware of the threat lurking behind him. You leaped forward, pushing him out of the way just as a pair of claws came slicing through the air. The two of you hit the ground hard, and you felt a sting of pain in your side as you made impact. He rolled you away, pulling the small silver dagger from his boot and slashing it through the werewolf’s neck. It fell, dead, beside him, and he looked over at you, frantic.

“You okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He stood up, looking around for his brother. Sam was standing a couple yards away, but there weren’t any werewolves left standing. Dean exhaled and dropped the dagger, coming over to help you up. He offered you a hand and you accepted it, pulling yourself up until you were standing.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, huh?” he joked, grinning at you.

You laughed, in spite of the circumstances. “Oh, yeah, piece of cake.”

He reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of your face. “See? I knew you could do it.”

You smiled and took a step back, faltering as the pain in your side came searing back. “Ah,” you mumbled, your hand moving down there on instinct. When you brought it back, it was covered in blood.

Dean noticed, his eyes falling to the four distinct claw marks in your dress. “Y/N?”

“I don’t think I’m okay…” you whispered, feeling the forest start to spin as you dropped to the ground.

“Woah, woah...Sam, I need help!...No, Y/N, no...Stay with me, do you hear me?...Sam!...Stay with me, Y/N! Stay with me...”

That was the last thing you heard before the world went black.

Your mouth was dry.

That was the first thought that popped into your head as you regained consciousness. Groaning softly, you willed your heavy eyelids open, turning your head to find Dean looking back at you. When your eyes connected, he let out a breath and jumped up, rushing over to you.

And, that’s when you realized you were in a hospital. No wonder your mouth was so goddamn dry. “Water?” you croaked out.

“Here.” He reached over to your bedside table for the water with a straw in it that was sitting there. It seemed like his hands were shaking as he moved it over to you, but it very well could’ve been your head that was doing the shaking.

“What happened?”

He sighed, his eyes sobering while he placed the water back down. “The werewolf winged you. We stopped the bleeding and got you here in time for them to stitch you back up, but…” He paused. “Damnit, Y/N, it must’ve happened when you pushed me out of the way. I’m so sorry…”

You put your hand on his, knowing the guilt must’ve been killing him. “Hey, I’m okay. Better a little scratch on me than you being dead, right?” You could sense he was about to argue, so you decided to distract him. “Plus, I get a really cool scar out of it! I’m going to tell people I ran into a burning building to save a bunch of kids.”

He laughed, throwing his head back. “What, fighting a werewolf isn’t a cool enough story?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No way. Burning building is way better.”

His laugh faded, but his smile stayed. “So much for a piece of cake, huh?”

“Eh, I’m more of a pie person anyway.”

“My kind of girl,” he chuckled.

You frowned, the casual remark reminding you of last night. “Dean, why are you still here?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly confused about where that had come from. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the danger’s over, werewolves are gone…”

“And, you were hurt. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“So, that’s it then? Now that you know I’m okay, you’re leaving?”

Dean shook his head, smiling in amusement. “Y/N, what’s going on? What’s with all the questions?”

Your gaze dropped to your hands. “It’s just, you said you never stayed around, and…”

“Ah,” he said, finally understanding. He placed one hand on top of yours and the other on the side of your face, drawing your eyes back up to his. “I never stayed around because I never found something worth staying for before. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“It doesn’t?”

He grinned. “I think I’m due for some vacation time. Thinking maybe I could spend it helping a pretty girl recover?”

“Wow,” you muttered. “I wonder where you’re going to find one of those.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You should get some rest.”

You smiled, feeling the fatigue the second he mentioned it. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Forevers- @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @impala-dreamer @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @be-amaziing @jalove-wecallhimdean @there-must-be-a-lock @mysterious-398 @hannahindie @emoryhemsworth @ohmychuckitssamanddean @wi-deangirl77 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ericaprice2008 @masksandtruths @roxyspearing @squirrel-moose-winchester @sweetpeamoose @babypieandwhiskey @deans-dirty-writer @roxy-davenport @heyitscam99 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @atc74 @dolphincliffs @closetspngirl @maddiepants @pinknerdpanda @focusonspn @deanwanddamons @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Dean Tags- @akshi8278 @whimsicalrobots @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets @alexwinchester23 @squirrelnotsam @deanwinchesterswitch

#foreverwaywards500 #spndeanbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction

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randomoranges · 4 years ago

Text

here is a very self-indulgent blurb for a very self-indulgent au.

teaching is fucking hard ok. one day is like 4 weeks of work.

Friday Nights

The first thing Étienne does when he’s out of his winter gear is crash face first onto the sofa. There’s a pile of laundry that still needs to be folded, but he’ll get to it later. From the entrance, he hears his boyfriend chuckle and before long, there’s a dip in the sofa as Edward joins him. Étienne believes he’s moved some to give Edward room, but he realises it’s a thought he never put to action, when Edward nudges his legs so that they can properly take over the couch and have enough space for each other, the laundry and their accumulated fatigue.

“I thought this week would never end,” Edward groans from somewhere beside him. Étienne would like to snuggle up to him, put his head on Edward’s chest and get lulled by the rhythmic beating of his heart, but moving requires energy that he no longer has. Instead, he stays in his position, with a vague notion that some part of Edward is close by.

“I’m convinced today lasted seventy-two hours. I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.” He doesn’t even bother to properly turn his head so that Edward can hear him and if it comes out partially muffled by the sofa, he doesn’t care.

Étienne remembers a time when, not even some ten years ago, Friday nights were synonymous with fun and the words “good time.” He would go out, meet up with his friends, stay up late, and paint the town. Now, if he makes it ‘til midnight on a Friday night, he considers it a minor miracle. If they do anything exciting on a Friday night, he considers it an act of God.

To think, he used to be a fun guy.

Now his idea of fun is sleeping in on Saturday and maybe spend five minutes with his boyfriend, before catching up with the neglected housework, the grading, the planning, the e-mails he never got around to and preparing for the week to come.

Hell, Edward could strip before his very eyes and Étienne isn’t even sure he’d manage to remain awake to fully enjoy the show.

He silently mourns for all the things he could be doing now that it’s the weekend and that he’s not.

“When d’we get borin’?” He slurs and asks. He hopes Edward heard him. Shifting and turning his head sounds exhausting.

“When the school year started.” Edward replies bluntly.

A laugh manages to bubble past Étienne’s lips and Edward responds with a gentle squeeze to his leg.

Edward is right though. It’s the same thing every year. Just as they start recouping somewhere in the middle of July, summer comes to an end and when the school year starts, they’re perpetually playing catch up with their rest until the next break when they can recharge their batteries.

Oftentimes, Étienne wonders why he picked this job. It often feels as though he’s running a marathon without any proper training.

“I know we said we’d get the cleaning done today so we wouldn’t have to do it over the weekend, but I’m so tired. Can we get to it tomorrow?” Edward pleads, sounding desperate.

Étienne’s been living with him for three years now and every summer since he’s moved in, they’ve tried (and failed) to set New Methods to keep the house in order and every year, without fail, once October rolls in, it’s the same thing. The laundry accumulates, the dishwasher doesn’t get emptied out right away and the dust bunnies seem to have a more exciting sex life than they do.

It’s a miracle there’s food in the refrigerator.

He sees 750 students in a week, 150 per day, has to deal with their moods, needs to be entertaining enough, discipline the group and also keep them motivated, explain, clean, grade, prepare, plan, respond to e-mails, to administration, to calls and to meetings. He barely has any breaks in a day and lunch is an hour’s worth of catch-up. The chores can indeed wait.

“I think that’s the sexiest proposition you’ve made me since Thanksgiving.”

This time, it’s Edward who laughs. He feels more than sees Edward shift and manoeuvre them until they’re more comfortably placed on the sofa, laying on it together, Edward holding him close. He finally has his head on his boyfriend’s chest and Étienne lets out a content sigh.

“Are you turned on by my proposition, Curly?”

Étienne looks up in time to see Edward waggle his eyebrows in a comical suggestive way and he manages a tired grin and a weak swat to his chest.

“Maybe if it did a little dance for me, I would.”

They share a tired smile at that and settle against each other. Edward makes an attempt to rub Étienne’s back, but after a few strokes, his hand remains comfortably on Étienne’s back and even just that is nice.

“I don’t know how teachers’ who have kids do it.” Edward says suddenly, out of the blue.

“Maybe they’re not having them with a teacher partner. Maybe they’re super-humans. Honestly though, I don’t know. We can’t even manage to fold the friggin’ laundry. Can you image having to care for another kid after dealing with a whole bunch of them all day long? Doing more homework and assignments and whatnot after grading a whole stack?”

“Just the thought of it makes me even more tired. I have mad respect for them though. There was a girl in uni with me who was a single mom and was already teaching and finishing her degree. I honestly don’t know how she did it.”

Étienne whistles low. He doesn’t think he would have been able to do it. Hell, he didn’t even move out of his parents’ home until Edward asked him to move in. He’d tried. For a short while. But he hadn’t been able to properly care for his apartment, while teaching, grading, prepping, planning and trying to keep himself fed and alive. By Christmas he had moved back home.

At least Edward gets it. At least Edward feels the same as he does. It’s a perk to their relationship amongst many.

They both agree to the statement and get lost in their own scenarios of having to find even more energy to care for a child after a draining day of teaching. In fact, they get so lost in their own thoughts that when Étienne next mentions something, he realises that they both fell asleep for close to an hour.

He shakes his head, partially amused, a little annoyed and he watches him sleep for a moment. He considers waking him up, but then thinks better of it. He could get up and get a start on dinner, but even that sounds too complicated and draining. Instead, he decides, to lay his head back down and rest a little more. Maybe they’ll order in and call it a day afterwards. Tomorrow will be another day anyways.

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #teacher au #3 sentence fic meme thing

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mysticdreamlandtimemachine · 4 years ago

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Hello, world

I’m feeling like I’ve been stuck in a rut for some time now and finally I brought myself to actually do something about it. Somehow, I decided to write an analysis of some sort and what is kind of surprising that it is public, lol. I don’t think a lot of people will read it (if any) but still it is unusual of me.

I don’t want to restrict myself with any particular format, the main idea is to discover myself (and to practice my English fluency).

First of all, what I think keeps me sulking like that? Well, two things immediately come to mind, which are my university studies and the relationship with my mother. It seems like both are connected to the thought of going against some kind of mainstream in my life.

What is the problem and what keeps me so fatigued and drained that I sometimes want to just quit and leave everything that I have?

* The study sessions that we have in our uni aren’t bad, I suppose, however, for me they somehow lack in particular aspects, such as keeping me interested to the point that I want to attend every lesson that we have. My attendance is not to be set as an example, ahah. I guess, the problem is not in the uni itself (I won’t think so cause I can’t change the way my uni operates lol) but in my attitude.

What do I fear? Being evaluated, making mistakes, being criticized. I don’t think these are uncommon problems among living people. It’s even kinda strange that I fear some things that are almost essential for every fellow student. I feel like one of the most striking reasons I find to cover myself is a money issue. My dad pays for my education and the sum depends on my grades (discount system for those who get better grades). I’m always having this fear to get a bad grade cause in my mindset it’s not just a signal to work on this topic more but a whole bunch of depressive thoughts like I’m not worthy. But, actually, I am worthy.

Hey, did you hear me? You’re worthy cause you don’t give up. Even if it gets hard, don’t give up, honey. Please, believe in yourself more cause it all makes sense only if you do feel like you appreciate your uni life. Attending classes brings you joy, some insights, maybe some exotic experiences in socializing. I know you feel left behind when you skip your classes. I feel stressed and insecure cause I start to speculate whether they studied something really important that I wasn’t able to grasp. Well, hon, maybe you shouldn’t be so dramatic about your presence. I mean, you’re doing it for no one else but yourself. Please, remember this. Even if you get a bad grade or some kind of unpleasant encounter, it is without a doubt less important that your own satisfaction, your efforts and your joy.

* My mom is somehow more sensitive topic. To be honest, I’m scared to share but it’s not like I will get executed for thinking out loud, so… Recently I’ve discovered that we have more twisted relationship that I’m able to cope with. All those years I had toxic relationship with her and now when I live with my parents after a year of living alone I’m so stressed out every day. We don’t have normal routine in interacting with each other. She doesn’t see me as a different person, an individual, treats me like I have to be monitored, laughs at my problems and so on. Even her sweetness makes me sick cause I feel like it can easily switch on her anger and I’m always preparing for the worst. At the same time my brain keeps giving me ideas like going strongly against her will just to provoke her and see what happens next. Honestly, I’m so tired but there’s no way for me to move out atm. She is always at home, as am I, cause of the lockdown, and it feels like I’m just complaining of how unfortunate I am… Kind of disgusting feeling.

I don’t know how I am supposed to live with a person who keeps being sweet and toxic. I feel like I’m reacting in the same pattern towards her. I’m being overly evil, maybe I need to somehow change my attitude. But that seems impossible for now, so my goal is to distance myself from her presence. Obviously, it’s kind of tricky but not entirely unachievable, so let’s focus on that for now.

I want to find a community of individuals with similar experience to share our stories, maybe I will learn how to live with her or heal myself. I’ve read that it may help.

Some way or another everything will work out…

Hope so at least.

#im stuck #unmotivated #fear of missing out #toxic mom #toxic relationship #try to change my mind #student #stress

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maluminspace · 5 years ago

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Lone Wolf

Genre: Angst/Drama/Fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/reader

Word Count: 2882

Requested: by @clffrd for spooky!sos 2019

Trigger Warnings: violence/zombies/apocalypse/fainting/brief references to death

A/N: Effy, this concept ended me! I hope you enjoy this 💖

________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t much, but it was safe. That had been Michael’s view on his little storm shelter since the day he’d claimed it as his own. It’d only been a couple of months post-apocalypse when he’d stumbled across ‘his’ abandoned farmland.

The farm itself had already been destroyed when he’d stumbled across it but the little bunker was all he’d needed anyway. Throughout the year that followed the outbreak, Michael had fashioned the little storm shelter into something resembling a home. He’d filled it with essential supplies and weapons as well as few little comforting touches such as a couple of posters of games and movies he’d used to love.

Michael had always been somewhat of a ‘lone wolf’. He’d become estranged from his family long before the flesh eating disease destroyed the vast majority of humanity. He’d never been that good at making friends either, therefore his lack of human contact since the apocalypse, was nothing new to him.

Much to his dismay; a few months after Michael had claimed his bunker, a little group of survivors had set up camp just a couple of miles away. Their hulking vehicles and sprawling barricades ruined his view of the lake and he hated knowing that a bunch of strangers were so close to him and his little patch of land.

They’d rolled past the farm in their convoy of beaten up old camper vans about six months after the virus had hit. Michael had half hoped they’d all keep going but they’d deemed this particular patch of countryside too good to leave.

He couldn’t blame them really. The clear streams and the huge lake, the sweeping hills and easy access to a bunch of little towns (which were still the best places to find certain types of supplies), all less than a day’s hike away, made this a pretty good place to call home these days.

Despite all of his reservations about the campers, Michael had decided to introduce himself very early on and make sure that they understood his boundaries. To his utter amazement, the other survivors had respected his wishes without hesitation.

He’d been suspicious at the time, that the group were just biding their time - waiting for him to let his guard down so that they could dispose of him. It’d never happened, though. The worst thing they’d ever done is try to invite him into their ranks, which was just about a forgivable offence in Michael’s opinion.

Having lived alongside them for nearly a year, Michael had sort of grown used to their presence. It was almost comforting to look out over their camp sometimes. He also knew that they checked in on him occasionally, which was quite handy if ever there was bad weather or something that could potentially cause something to block the entrance to his bunker - at least he knew he wouldn’t be trapped in there for too long before someone noticed something was amiss.

The only thing that scared Michael now, was how much he was willing to rely on them. He didn’t want to be tied down to them but he was worried he was heading that way.

To prove that he could still survive when he was entirely alone, Michael decided to take a long hike to a little town further afield than the ones he usually went to when he needed supplies. He knew it was a risk; he hadn’t made this particular journey more than a couple of times. Getting lost was a huge possibility and could easily result in a whole bunch of terrifying consequences.

This was something Michael had to do, though. If he was scared of making this journey, he’d already become too dependent on others.

He managed to push back the niggling doubts that he had as he gathered up his supplies. It was important to travel light for this hike because some of the terrain was nothing short of punishing. A heavy backpack would be more of hinderance than anything else.

After packing just a few food items; his large water flask and a single blanket, Michael grabbed his trusted machete and stepped out of his bunker.

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Michael stepped outside and locked up his bunker. The lingering chill from the night before meant that he could see his breath in little wisps in front of him, as he went over his mental checklist.

Once he was sure that he was as prepared as he could possibly be, Michael stored his weapon in his belt and set off towards the woods.

***

You’d fought your way out of hundreds of scrapes and killed countless zombies in your bid for survival thus far. You’d never have imagined that you’d ever need rescuing by a complete stranger.

That’s exactly what’d happened though.

You’d been travelling alone for weeks - ever since the group of survivors you’d been with since the outbreak, had been scattered after a huge attack on the camp you’d built together.

Maybe it was loneliness or perhaps it could have been because of malnutrition or dehydration, but whatever the reason, you’d started making silly mistakes. It was one such error that lead to you becoming trapped in the back of one of the thousands of broken down vehicles littering the highway you were wondering down.

You’d always known you should run and not hide from the undead. Fatigue had started to set into every inch of you, though. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to outrun the corpses tonight. Crawling into the back of a rusting van had seemed like your only option. You’d barricaded the doors as best you could with the few items that had been left in the vehicle.

Of course, the heap of useless metal became surrounded within minutes. The unnatural grunting and the terrifying sound of rotting fingers clawing at the outside of the van would be the last things you heard before you were eaten alive. That was the only conceivable outcome of this situation.

You’d basically accepted your fate by the time you heard something that gave you the tiniest hope of survival. The unmistakable sounds of a living, breathing human being fighting the corpses outside the van reached your ears and you felt relieved tears beginning to sting your eyes.

After a few minutes the noises of fighting stopped and heavy footsteps made their way hesitantly towards the van. Despite your relief at being safe from the zombies now, you knew that there were a lot of people that used their new freedom from law and civilised society for evil purposes.

As the door of the van creaked open you cursed yourself again for getting yourself cornered like this. You were in no position or condition to fight, if this person wanted to hurt you, they wouldn’t have a very difficult job on their hands.

Clutching your weapons out of habit more than anything, you fixed your gaze on the dark figure that emerged through the small gap that your barricade would allow the van doors to make.

“Is someone in there?”

The voice sounded kind of rough like it hadn’t been used much in a long time.

“There’s more corpses nearby, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here.” The man explained, keeping his voice low to avoid detection. “If you’re hurt, I can help you but we can’t stay here for long, unless you want to be a zombie snack.”

Trusting this man seemed like your best hope for survival. You also couldn’t deny the fact that you’d missed human company more than you can say.

You inched closer to the doors, pulling aside your barricade just enough to squeeze out of the van.

In the pale moonlight, the man that had saved you looked like some sort of angel. His pale skin and fluffy sandy hair gave him an air of softness that was the total opposite to the toughness suggested by his heavy boots, bloodstained clothes, machete and the stern expression on his handsome face.

“Can you walk?” He asked, as you staggered out onto the road.

Your head was kind of spinning with a weird mix of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. Still, it was hard not to take in the details of the scene you were faced with. The broken bodies of the zombies that would have certainly killed you a moment ago, lay motionless at the stranger’s feet.

“Just about.” You replied, unable to take your eyes off of the man in front of you. Thank you for helping I...” you faltered, dizziness overwhelming you for moment.

Before you could fully recover, the mysterious man hooked your arm around his neck as he gripped you steadily around the waist. He set of at a speed that you couldn’t quite match in your weakened state.

You weren’t sure how long you were practically carried by the stranger. The ordeal back at the van had drained the last of your energy and you were struggling to remain conscious.

Vaguely aware that the stranger was comforting you with promises of safety and water, you tried your hardest to stay awake.

You failed.

***

Michael took care of you for two whole days. Supplying you with food, water and protection until your strength started to return to you.

He’d discovered a little abandoned cabin in the woods lining the road he’d found you on. Most of the tiny building had been stripped of useful items but a ragged old sofa and some musty blankets had remained. It wasn’t ideal but it’d been enough to keep you relatively comfortable during in your recovery.

Michael had intended upon helping you find another group as soon as you were strong enough to walk again. He’d always helped people that needed it, human decency was the only thing he really had to offer alongside his skills with a machete. That was where his involvement with other people usually ended, though.

Somehow it felt different with you.

From the moment you’d stumbled out of that rusting van, Michael had seen something in you that he’d never noticed in anyone else.

Having been a loner for pretty much as long as he could remember, it was difficult for Michael to place his feelings for you. All that he knew was, the thought of leaving you hurt.

Between your frequent napping, Michael had learnt a lot about you. Besides the things you’d told him verbally, he was good at reading people. He knew by the way you always kept your weapons close that you were a smart fighter. The way you moved as your strength returned, told him that you were a confident person and the definition in your arm and leg muscles showed a degree of physicality that suggested you’d be tough to beat in a fight.

The thing that Michael found most intriguing about you, though, was the way you opened up to him and treated him with warmth as opposed to the cold, suspicion or indifference he was usually met with.

What he didn’t realise was that your reaction to him was entirely out of character. You’d always been notoriously hard to get along with and since the apocalypse, you’d become dangerously suspicious of everyone... Everyone except the pretty green eyed man that had saved your life.

As your third day together dawned, Michael found himself struggling to accept that it was time to start heading back. He knew he had to find you somewhere safe to live, but for the first time in his entire life, the thought of being alone again wasn’t so appealing.

As much as he’d hate to admit it, Michael was enjoying your company. He’d already told you things that he’d never planned on sharing out loud with anyone, let alone someone he’d known for such a short space of time. There was plenty more he wished to discuss with you, too.

“So today’s the day we start moving, huh?” You asked, a nervous tone creeping into your voice. “I bet you’re excited to get rid of me so you can head home, huh?”

Michael wanted to laugh it off but he couldn’t deny the sadness that spread through him at the very thought of not having you around anymore. It was odd to him; feeling so much for someone, especially someone who was still pretty much a stranger to him.

His many conflicting feelings prevented Michael from responding to you. Pretending not to hear you seemed preferable to whatever his answer would be.

When he remained silent, your heart sank a little as you assumed it was his way of confirming your suggestion. You scrambled to your feet and slid your knife into your belt before picking up your trusted baseball bat from the floor near the sofa. “I’m good to go on alone, if you’re that eager to be by yourself again.” You said, a note of steeliness in your tone that betrayed how hurt you felt by the fact he didn’t care for you as much as you’d hoped.

Michael’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his expression almost frightened. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you travel alone yet.” He replied finally. “I’d rather we stayed together for a bit longer, until you’re back at full strength.”

“Thanks for taking care of me, but I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore.” You explained, that hurt tone in your voice refusing to disappear fully.

“You’re not a burden!” Michael replied, scrambling to his feet before stepping closer to you. “I promised to keep you safe and I won’t feel like I’ve fulfilled that until you’ve found a new home. You just don’t strike me as a wonderer.”

Despite the obvious effort Michael put into choosing words that suggested he was doing this out of a sense of duty, you noticed the hint of sadness in his pretty green eyes and the way his fingers twitched nervously as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I think I could survive on my own.” You argue lightly, the doubt that Michael didn’t care for you in some way, dwindling by the second. “Maybe you’ve inspired me... maybe I could be a lone wolf, just like you.”

You’d meant it as a joke, not expecting to deepen the sadness in Michael’s eyes to an almost heartbreaking capacity. He tried to hide it but failed miserably as tears started to threaten to fall down his cheeks.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He sniffed, trying to hide his emotion by tilting his face downwards, allowing his long fringe to shield his eyes from you. “I think you’d be better off within a group.”

Against your better judgement, you stepped closer to Michael, reaching up to cradle his cheek gently. There’s a moment of eye contact, so charged with different emotions, that they threatened to overwhelm you. Having an attraction towards someone was a luxury you’d thought had died along aside everything else when the world had ended. It seemed dangerous and almost unnatural to crave someone the way you were starting to crave Michael. “You can admit it if you want me to stay with you, Michael. I’m quite a catch, not bad at fighting either.” You aimed for a humorous tone, giving yourself an out if Michael hated the thought of being with you for longer than he had to be.

Some of the tension leaked out of Michael’s face as he pressed his cheek into your hold, his eyelids sliding shut gently. “You can do better than me.” He replied quietly. “I’m not good with people... I only know how to take care of myself.”

You let out a soft chuckle before placing a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You’ve taken care of me.” You argued. “I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you.”

Michael opened his eyes to meet your gaze and there was a split second that you thought he might kiss you but he seemed to second guess himself as his cheeks filled with colour and he took a step away from you. “I have a feeling you’d have found a way out.” He smiled awkwardly. “You seem like the type of person that the world can’t do without these days.”

The simple compliment filled your heart with joy as a smile curled your lips. “You mentioned the little group of survivors that live close to you.” You offer brightly, “do you think they’d take me in?”

Michael shrugged but there was a hopeful glint in his eyes. “I don’t see why not.”

“That’d be the perfect solution, wouldn’t it?” You asked, smirking a tiny bit. “I could come and visit you whenever you wanted...”

“I’d like that.” Michael replied with a genuine smile. “I think it’s about time I started welcoming guests to my little bunker.”

You pouted as you took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Not too many guests, I hope... I’d kinda like you to myself sometimes.”

He squeezed your fingers gently to show that he was happy with contact but didn’t acknowledge it in any other way. That didn’t matter, though, it felt right and Michael seemed to agree, that’s all that mattered.

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jishyucks · 5 years ago

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The Boy Next Door

{Heartthrob Series}

‣ genre: angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ wc: 7.8k

‣ summary: Woojin’s inability to write love songs leads to a trip of inspiration lead by you

a/n: First of the series! Also this took a while to write so please leave a like if you enjoyed it :3

series m.list

You rubbed your drooping, tired eyes as you made your way up your driveway and to your front porch. Your job at a flourishing music company as a secretary, and some side songwriting and producing, wasn’t too hard, yet it wasn’t easy. It was the type of work that both motivated you yet made you want to stop and just take a nap on the couch at the back of the studio. Not that you were complaining or anything. The job was perfect for you. A mix of paperwork and work that focused on creativity.

You pulled the keys from your front pocket before doing a double take at the front porch of your long time neighbour, Kim Woojin. He was sitting up on the porch bench, but you can't help but notice the small snore that left his sleeping self. You take notice of his attire. A neat dress shirt and pants. He had a black folder resting on his lap while his guitar case was resting against the wall.

“Woojin?” you called. It wasn’t at a volume which would startle him or one where he couldn’t hear it, but it was loud enough for him to stir. He jolted up upon realizing where he had fallen asleep and turned his head almost immediately at your direction. You giggle at his confused state, eyes looking the way it was supposed to when you’re just woken up. He scratched his head and picked up the folder from his lap, placing it next to him.

Sheepishly, he smiled, “You scared me.” By the look on his face once he sobered up from his nap, you can already tell what had happened and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards the guy.

“No luck?” you crossed his lawn and made your way up the stairs of his house. He quickly made room for you, which you took gladly. He nodded with a sad smile, “To be honest, at this point, I’m not surprised anymore. It’s the same reason over and over again. I just want to give up.” You gasped loudly, not content with his thoughts and lack of motivation.

“Don’t you dare give up!” you exclaim, “I find it stupid as hell that no one would hire you just because you write break up songs. They’re letting someone talented go just like that.” He didn’t reply. Woojin only stared down at his lap and sighed. He agreed with you, but he was almost hopeless at this point. With his mom nagging him about getting a job and no one hiring him, his stress level could go nowhere but up.

“I’ll just find a job at a restaurant or something. I can’t go on being jobless.” You turned to look at him, feeling your heart drop at the lack of passion he usually had in his eyes. You could see how tired he actually was with trying. This wasn’t the guy you knew. You believed that he was born to be a musician but for some reason the world was currently against him and his purpose.

You looked at the time on your phone and mentally groaned, “I have to go… I wish I could help somehow…” It was true. If any opportunity came up somewhere, you do anything to help Woojin out.

“No need,” he grinned sadly, “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“You too.”

After long hours of hard work, you were finally able to clear up the piles of paperwork left on your desk by your boss. The whole process got tedious over time and much to your annoyance, you were basically the only person who was hired to do the paperwork. When you had finally set down the last folder on top of the finished pile, you couldn’t help but rest your head down onto the cold desk.

The sound of heavy boots steadily increased in volume meaning the person was approaching you. You really didn’t even need to question who it was as everyone else in the company chose to wear light dress shoes or heels. Lifting your head, Chan, one of the main producers in the company came into view with a drained expression. You and him were fairly close since you both were the same age.

“Long day?” he started, placing his backpack down against the desk. You nodded as a response, noticing how he used your desk to support himself, “I’m guessing same with you?” Chan nodded. He pressed his lips into a thin line rested his chin onto his hand. It looked like he was going to fall asleep right then and there but then he suddenly opened his eyes and sighed.

“They’re pushing me to make a whole bunch of love songs which have to be finished in a few weeks. How do you expect me, one whole and very single man, to create that many songs? I don’t do love songs,” he threw his hands up in frustration but made sure to keep his voice down in case anyone heard his complaining.

“Don’t you have people who help you?” you laughed at the ridiculous amount of work the company depended on you both to work on.

“No, just me. Do they think I’m the fucking genie or something? If I were I’d just poof up a bunch of people to help me…” Chan snapped to add emphasis.

You let out another laugh, thinking you were drunk of fatigue, “I would help but I’m too caught up with all this other stuff they’ve given me.” It was as if everything was funny and you just wanted to laugh at anything. Your mind was slower than it would originally be. You just laughed.

He nods understandingly, “I’m about to head home,” Chan sighed, “Finally.” He bent down and picked up his bag.

“Wait, I’m going too.” Quickly, you shut down your computer and grabbed the bag that you had placed snuggly underneath the desk. You were actually excited to go home. You could finally lay down on your couch and watch your shows and basically relax. You could even ask Woojin to come over since he probably needed comp-

Chan jumped at your sudden intake of air, thinking you had gotten a heart attack or something. He whipped his head around to see if you were doing fine. Looking at your state, he sighed in relief, though he was still confused as to why you were just standing with your mouth hanging open.

“Y/N?” You didn’t budge, mostly due to the fact that you realized how stupid you were being at the moment. “Y/N?”

Chan approached you carefully, bending down to match your height in deep confusion. “Please don’t tell me you’re possessed…” His heart started to beat faster. What should he do? He’s never been in a situation like this before. “They’ve been working us too hard.”

As soon as he began to panic, you seemed to gain ‘consciousness,’ being able to blink and breathe once again from your sudden realization. “Oh thank goodness, I thought you were pos-”

“You said you needed help right?” you blurted. Hurriedly, you made your way around your desk and in front of Chan, “I know someone who can help you! He’s been looking for a job… Do you think they’d hire him? They’ll hire him to finish the work right?”

“Woah, slow down.” You and Chan began to walk to the front door, mostly because you were hauling him to the front. “Who, exactly?”

“He’s a friend…” you don’t mention that he’s been rejected by a bunch of companies for writing only breakup songs, “He’s written a lot of songs and they’re all really good!” Silent, Chan began to think about all the benefits that come with hiring someone to help him. With a project that big he could really use the help he can get. “Please?” You practically begged Chan. Your bottom lip was sticking out and held your gaze for longer than a normal person would.

Chan looked back at you and chewed gently on the inside of his cheek. He can talk to his boss about it… it’s not like it would disrupt the flow in the studio. If anything, this person can help the process of completing the job. There weren’t any drawbacks to the decision. “Okay.” Your face suddenly seemed more alive than before, joy taking place of your fatigue. “Just bring him tomorrow morning and I’ll check out what he can do…”

Thanking him, you couldn’t help but hug the boy from the side tightly with enthusiasm. All you could think on the way home was the fact that Woojin can finally get his chance to showcase his talent.

You made sure to wake up right when the sun peeked over the horizon in order to catch Woojin before he leaves to find a good place to busk. This was the only way he could earn his own money and sometimes you found him leaving his place just to get the best spot for tourists to see him. You remember having a conversation with him about how important a busking spot actually was. It had to be crowded or highly populated throughout each hour of the day to get even a bit of money thrown into his case. It made you realize how hard-working most buskers actually were.

You carried yourself across the lawn and onto the Kim’s porch, hesitating slightly because you were afraid you would wake up his parents and not just Woojin. Ringing the bell, you hear it chime inside the house. After a moment of silence, footsteps were heard from what seemed like the second floor making their way to the main.

“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Kim’s soft face appeared when the door swung open. The tired smile on her face and the glasses barely holding on to the bridge of her nose basically showed her just woken up state. Suddenly, you felt apologetic. “You’re here quite early.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but is Woojin here? There’s something important I have to talk to him about,” your hands moved toward your back, crossing.

“Oh! He told me last night that he’d leave early this morning,” she answered softly, “But I think he’ll be somewhere around the plaza.” You quickly thanked her and returned the warm smile she gave you.

It was lucky that the plaza wasn’t too far from where you lived. It was probably the reason why Woojin thought it was easiest to go there for busking. A large amount of tourists and locals would go their everyday since it was densely filled with stores and small shops that were fun to look through. One part of the plaza had plenty of small restaurants that encircled a large area of concrete, a fountain in the middle and outdoor dining like in the movies. It was a given that Woojin would be there. People loved live music, even at the breakfast hour.

When you arrived at the circle, you looked around already seeing a handful of people already seated and eating. At the other side of the fountain, you could see people crowded around a wall, which could mean Woojin. You fast walked to the other end, eager to tell Woojin the good news. You were excited to see the look on his face when you tell him about the opportunity. You were just scared that Chan would turn him away and it would only push Woojin to give up even more.

As you got closer to the small crowd, you could hear the words of “It Will Rain” by Bruno Mars being sung with soul. It was Woojin’s powerful voice filling the silent parts of the plaza. If you were just someone passing by, you would be attracted to the voice too. You couldn’t blame the people who got distracted and just stood and watched.

Instead of elbowing through people for your place to the front, you slowly made your way through the smallest gaps between people, muttering a quiet excuse me if you did come in contact with them. Before you knew it, you found yourself among the people who were lucky enough to arrive there first. You were slightly taken aback at Woojin’s focused character, being the centre of genuine attention. He had his eyes closed, words came to him easily, and his fingers naturally travelled to the chords. No matter how many times you had seen and heard him, you will not deny the fact that you would fall in awe at his talent. His voice was something you would never get tired of listening to. Saying it was beautiful was an understatement.

Once the song was finished, you made sure you made yourself visible to him, waving your hands and directing a psst towards his direction. He looked over, eyes opening.

“Y/N!” he smiled. You waved him over subtly, not wanting to catch anyone else’s attention. Nodding, Woojin gestured to wait a sec before he stood up straighter, announcing to the crowd, “Thank you for watching, that will unfortunately be the last song for now. I would gladly want to point out plenty of stores that have the best breakfasts I’ve eaten and that you might enjoy. Again, thank you.” The crowd applauded, most of then approaching the open guitar case he had laid down. They dropped in any spare change they had, which was, to Woojin, better than nothing. He thanked them again before finally making his way to you.

“I didn't think I’d see you here,” he smiled, “What did you want to tell me?” Woojin was in closer proximity than usual due to the fact that there was a lot of people around you both and it was harder to hear.

“I wanted to tell about a job opportunity,” you started, “My co-worker Chan needs help on some song making stuff and I told him you’d be good help.” You see his face light up and his mouth open, but before he could speak, you continued, “He told me that you could show him your work tomorrow, which means today, and he’ll talk to his boss about hiring you. Chan has a big influence in the company… do you want to go?”

“Of course!” Woojin was suddenly seemingly as excited as you were, “Let me pack my stuff and we can go now!” He swiftly made his way through the crowd, gathering the change had received into a mini bag he had prepared. He locked up his guitar into the case and slung it over his shoulder, running back to you with the biggest smile on his face. So big that his eyes were almost gone.

On the way there, Woojin’s energy started to die down. “Do you think they’d be okay with the situation I’m in right now?” You could tell how worried he was just by the tone of his voice. He didn’t dare make eye contact with you. “What if I just let this opportunity pass? This could be my last opportunity.”

“Don’t worry Woojin,” you assured, “I know… some way, somehow… Chan’s going to do anything to get you this job.” You gave him a few friendly pats on the back. Though you didn’t know if your words were true. You just hoped that Chan would accept the help Woojin would offer. He said it himself that he’d accept any help he’d get and Woojin wasn’t bad at all. The only problem he had was that he, for some reason, only has the ability to write songs that focused on break ups. Last time you heard, Chan had to work on a bunch of love songs.

Chan looked between you, Woojin, and the computer in front of him that played the demos Woojin had created on his own. You sat eager to know if Chan was willing to hire Woojin while Woojin was at the edge of his own seat, watching Chan’s expressions intently, trying to read if he had taken a liking to it or not. It was unclear, but Woojin wanted to only think good thoughts.

“I can’t take this,” Chan finally drew out. He reached for his mouse and clicked the pause button, “Do you have any… love songs? Your songs are good but they’re all break up songs. You must be hurt as hell.” Chan spoke to Woojin directly, as if you weren’t in the room. You gulped. You knew this was going to happen.

“N-no but-”

“I don’t know if I can hire you if you don’t love songs… the project is based on love songs, not sad songs,” Chan explained apologetically. He disconnected Woojin’s USB and pushed it over to the edge of the table where Woojin could reach it.

“I”m sorry but you didn’t let me finish,” Woojin swallowed, “I can make a love song… and I’ll let you listen if you’re willing to.” Chan spun childishly in his chair, stopping once Woojin told him his plan.

“If you can get it to me soon, then sure,” Chan shrugged. Woojin’s face broke out into a determined smile, grabbing the flashdrive, “Then I’ll get it to you soon. I promise! Let’s go Y/N.” You stood up abruptly and quickly thank Chan before leaving. You were being pulled by Woojin, who had suddenly gained the energy to haul you behind him.

“How are you going to write a love song in that amount of time, Woojin?” you questioned. Did he forget that he was incapable of making love songs or did this burst of energy have that power to do so? Either way, you wanted to hear his actual plan.

“I just will. It’s not that hard right?” Woojin shrugged.

“You’ve been trying for the past few weeks and you have nothing.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t write one now,” Woojin argued. He slowed his pace and dropped your hand. Deep down, Woojin knew he was lacking, but he figured that if he said he could do it, he could trick his mind into believing he could.

Without thinking, you said something you shouldn’t have, “Ever since she left, you haven’t been able to do so.” You clamped your mouth shut and stared at Woojin, wide eyed. You were afraid he’d get mad at you for mentioning his ex-girlfriend. Even without the details, you could tell by the way he was affected that it was a rough breakup. Maybe if you knew how they broke up, you could help him get over her somehow. To your surprise, instead of telling you to stop, Woojin gave you a sad look before dropping his head, “You’re right.”

You guys were stopped in the middle of the large empty sidewalk. Woojin grew silent, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket as if the air was as cold as it was in the winter. You could read that he was thinking about the break up. The way his eyes just looked at one of the cracks imprinted in the sidewalk. You shouldn’t have said that. His energy had suddenly left, all after you had mentioned his ex.

“C-can I ask you something? You don’t need to answer,” you drawled. You watch his head lift slowly, peeking out at you as if he were some shy kid you had met at the park. He nodded and waited intently. “How did you guys break up?”

Even if you guys were best friends, you seriously had no idea how Woojin broke up with Jiyoung. You remembered Woojin reaching what seemed like the peak of his happiness when he was around her, the way he had a little bounce in his step. Sometimes you’d get annoyed by how he’d talk about her when you guys would hang out on a random weekday night, but you couldn’t really do anything about it. Then, there was that one day you guys did hang out. You expecting a night filled with Woojin talking about his girlfriend and short pauses during video games for him to quickly reply to her text, followed by a tiny ‘sorry,’ but none of that actually happened. It surprised you. Instead, Woojin had kept his mouth shut, only talking about the game, maybe cussing over another player’s actions or laughing at something you had said. When you got through one whole game without pausing, you started to think that something had probably happened between the two, but you didn’t have the courage to ask him.

“I think that’s a story for another day,” Woojin knew what you were trying to do. Trying to let it out so that she would disappear from his thoughts. But as of now, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk about past relationships. Not when the end of a relationship was the reason why he currently had no job.

“Okay,” you nodded. If he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. You weren’t going to force him into telling you anything.

It was like a replay from a scene in a movie when you spot Woojin sitting on his porch’s bench while you were making your way to your front door. Instead of sleeping, you see him staring attentively at the lined paper that he placed on top of a random hardcover book he had found laying around in his house.

You unintentionally laugh out loud, catching his attention. “What?” he furrowed his eyebrows. You didn’t know if it was in frustration or confusion but you just wave your hand, “You look like you’re working hard.”

“I am but look,” Woojin turned the sheet and showed you the empty paper, “Nothing! I can’t write anything. I’ve been sitting here since the morning and I haven’t even written one word.” He slammed the piece of paper back down on the book, “I could’ve gotten some money busking today, but no. Forget it.” Standing up, he gathered his things, leaving you standing there, stunned. Woojin had never been a quitter, but this was the second time this week he had done so. You knew you were the one who had given him this opportunity and that you shouldn’t let him be like this.

“I have an idea.” You were looking across the gap between your houses, tapping your fingers against the wall in some sort of rhythm. Woojin stopped and basically whipped his head towards your direction like a puppy. He had a hopeful look on his face, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly at the idea of help. That’s what he needed. Help.

“I’ll take you to the places that give me inspiration.” You leaned against the wall, waiting for a response, “I don’t have work this weekend so I can help you.” The places you had in mind always helped you. Even if it wasn’t song writing related. At times during high school, you had gone to the same places to hinder the stress that weighed down your shoulders. You just hoped it would work for Woojin too.

“Would you actually?” The boy who had threatened to quit quickly gained spirit once again, showing joy through his eyes. “I don’t want to bother you-”

“You won’t bother me! I promise you. This will be fun,” you turned to enter your house, “It’ll be like a mini road trip. Meet me at my car at nine.” Before you stepped into your house, you sent him a quick wave which was returned with an exclaimed ‘goodbye!’

Pulling up to the first destination, you sighed out happily at the sight of the familiar place that was just a few yards from your car. “We’re here.”

You beamed at the sight in front of you. It was a flower filled park garden with walkways going every direction. Some could compare it to a corn maze, as one could actually get lost within the garden, but this is what you loved about the garden. Rather than stressing over getting out and being hunted by some sort of scarecrow, you could keep walk aimlessly, the only thing you could get lost in was your thoughts.

The lack of response from Woojin caused you to worry about the fact that he didn’t like it. Maybe it was only you who saw value in this hybrid of a corn maze and flower garden. You turned to Woojin with a questioning look, only to find him asleep. Laughing, you gently flicked the side of his neck to wake him up instantly.

At contact, he jumped, flailing his head side to side, curious as to why you had stopped the car, “This place is beautiful… why haven’t I been here before?” He opened the door of your car, you following in pursuit. He jogged to the opening of the garden, his smile expressing emotions of excitement and happiness. He glowed at the sight of all the flowers and you couldn’t help but smile at how he amused he was. Maybe this is what you looked like when you first visited this place.

“I think it’s because it’s out of town,” you retorted, “But this place helps me sort things out when I have problems. The beauty of it all inspires me if I think hard enough.” You joined Woojin’s side and you both begin making your way down the path, not minding which way you went.

“What if we get lost? Should I leave bread crumbs or something?” he joked. He bends down and pretends to drop said bread crumbs like Hansel in the fairy tale.

You laughed and shook your head, “That’s the main reason why I love this place. You can just walk, regardless what direction. You’ll somehow find your way out.” “Wish life was that easy,” he snorted. You nodded and hummed, walking heel-toe-heel-toe. You felt like you were a princess in her garden, waiting for her prince to arrive. This garden just brings you places even if you don’t envision it.

Over the time you and him had strolled through the garden, Woojin purposely let himself fall back behind you. He smiled at how you were being right now. All carefree and happy. He admired the way your cheekbones lifted high when you couldn’t control your smile and the way you automatically looked down when you did. It was a habit of yours that he noticed since you guys were young. He wonders if he had any habits.

“I’m never gonna get tired of this place,” the light breeze carried your voice. You turned back with hair in your face, “Is it working for you? If not, we can go to the next place.” You knew that not everyone liked gardens or would inspiration the same way you do but by the look on Woojin’s face, you knew that it had to help even a little bit.

Woojin looked at you and nodded, “I think it’s working.” He knew it was working, but he didn’t know it was not because of the location or not in the way you thought it worked for you.

“Then good,” you returned to the route and skipped, “If this place works, the next one might work even better.”

By the time you both returned to your car, it had been around an hour so since you had arrived. The sun was high up in the sky and it was beating down on you both radiantly. It was a relief for you and Woojin when you had hopped into the vehicle and blasted the air conditioner. You pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive.

The next destination was not too far away from the garden. It was a small village like area that wasn’t so heavily populated by people, which is the main reason why there were alleyways and buildings decorated with tolerated graffiti.

Vibrant colours, exaggerated pictures of people and characters, the messages behind the artwork, all of this was just astounding to you and your idea-hungry mind. Everywhere you look, a picture painted by a different artist could be seen, even from a distance. Everytime you visited the area, the older paintings would be painted over and a new one would take its place just like a never ending art gallery.

“It’s like those places in the movies or tv shows,” Woojin’s head did not stop turning. He was scared that he would miss a mural if he didn’t look fast enough. He wanted to run, take pictures, and think about the messages the pictures could be telling. He understood why this was a part of your destinations list, as it got his creative mind going like the gears of a grandfather clock. He looked down at you by his side as you had been still amazed at the life and the creativity that was put into the pictures. The smile on your face warmed his stomach, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time and one he didn’t think he’d feel again. “It’s beautiful.”

After a while, you and Woojin agreed to take a look around alone, as it would be easier to actually fully appreciate the art and think about what the artist could be saying through the painting. Woojin knew how important a message in any form of art was. One of the murals could spark up some ideas that he knows he has inside his brain.

Woojin’s shoes scratched the rough underdeveloped pavement as he entered one of the last alleys that contained one of the last pieces of art on the street. Though the ones he had seen were beautiful and pleasing to the eye, there was no obvious story told by the paintings. He thought that maybe he was expecting too much of the graffiti but there weren’t any ideas that easily flowed through his head.

“Oh, you scared me a little bit,” you laughed quietly. Woojin hadn’t noticed your presence when had entered the alley way. You were standing almost against the wall, neck stretched back, admiring the painted wall. Woojin just laughed and stood next to you, copying your figure. He folded his hands behind his back and leaned his head back to look at the enormous painting.

The painting was filled with maple trees, its branches hidden behind the thick bunches of maple leaves. At the centre of the painting was a couple, each of them sat snuggly on a swing set’s plastic chair. They had smiles on their faces, they weren’t looking at each, yet the artist decided to paint them still with the smiles. It was a simple painting, but you seemed to be immersed in the art, as if you were watching a movie.

“I think this one’s my favourite,” you start quietly, “The other ones seemed to be more for aesthetic, not messages or stories like the ones I often see.”

“What’s the message behind this one?” Woojin’s smile was evident just by the sound of his voice. He didn’t look at you. He was afraid that if he did, that his eyes would never leave you.

“The maple trees… the leaves signify the sweet feelings of being in love, like syrup. The swing set, it can mean a lot of things, but I like to think of it as a symbol of youth or the feeling when you have no decisions that you have to make. You’re basically free. Now just put those two symbols together… it’s simple but I really love it.”

The message of the mural was actually pretty. It wasn’t too shallow or deep. It can be interpreted in any way desired, but he liked how you depicted it. It somehow related to him when he was dating Jiyoung, and, more importantly, it somehow relates to him now, with you.

Woojin glanced over, only to find you already looking up at him. “I see you’re silent. That means it is beautiful.” You looked down at the time on your phone, you snapped and began to walk, “It’s getting late. We have to eat and then get to the final destination.”

When you had finally reached the third place, it was dark out and Woojin couldn’t help but notice how you had brought him out into the woods like it was normal. The only flashlight he had was his phone’s and it was almost out of battery.

“Are you going to throw me off of a cliff?” Woojin was half scared and half joking. He followed you to your trunk where you could be hiding any sort of weapon.

“No, I’m not,” you scoffed, “Catch.” You toss him a cylinder shaped heavy piece of metal. A flashlight. “Now follow me.”

You guys walked through almost complete darkness before you had finally reached a cliff that looked out at the entire city, as cliche as it sounds. Woojin’s eyes glimmered at the sight of the city lights. It seemed surreal and, as he said earlier, like it was straight out of a movie.

“This part clears my mind. I just kinda stare and drift into my thoughts and ideas that I made from the last two places,” you explained in a hushed tone. There was no need to be quiet, but at a place like this, the atmosphere leaned more towards the quieter side. Being loud would just disrupt the entire feel.

Woojin just sat on the hood of your car and stared off into the distance. Think about the thoughts and ideas from the garden and the murals. Think.

He feels you lay out your spare sweater on the car’s windshield before laying down comfortably. The corners of his lips turn up lightly before he turned back to the breathtaking view in front of him. He knows exactly what he thought about.

On the way back, it was a mutual decision to play some soft tunes instead of songs to turn up to. Woojin was falling in and out of sleep, mostly so you had someone to keep you awake and entertained.

“It’s fine Woojin, I feel awake right now,” you assured, “Just nap. I’ll wake you up when we’re back.” Woojin hesitated at first but if you insisted then mayhaps he should just take the chance. He pulled the lever and pulled his chair back into a lying position. Instead of sleeping right when his head hit the headrest, he had other thoughts that bothered him somewhat. He was so bothered that he decided to sit his chair back up.

“I thought you were going to sleep?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Woojin noticed how you guys were getting closer and closer to your neighbourhood. He figured it was best to say it before you both got home, “I wanted to say thank you for bringing me to places that had special meaning to you… I think they actually did help…”

“It’s no problem, for real.”

“And for that… I wanna tell you why me and Jiyoung broke up… like how you asked the other day. It’s stupid how you’re basically my best friend and I’ve never told you how we broke up. I owe you this.”

“Woojin, you don’t need to, it’s okay,” you were telling the truth. It was all good now. You actually believed that you truly helped Woojin find ideas for his song.

“I want to.” The wind outside of the car and the quiet hum of the music filled the short silence. Woojin breathed slowly, “We broke up because of my dream of becoming a singer… songwriter, everything along those lines.”

You did not reply. You couldn’t believe someone as amazing as Woojin was dumped for some stupid reason. But at the same time, different people have different preferences.

“She started to get the idea that becoming an artist was stupid and meaningless. That there was no way in actually becoming successful… She just broke up with me all of a sudden. It came as a shock to me.”

You entered your neighbourhood, less than a few kilometres from your house. No one talked until you had finally pulled up your driveway. Woojin opened the door. He was ready to leave until you had quickly called him, “Woojin!”

He turned back and waited for you to say something.

“She didn’t deserve you if she didn’t support your dream… I think you deserve someone who supports you.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

It didn’t really occur to you that you hadn’t seen Woojin for the past few days until Chan had gone up to your desk to ask you how he was doing with the songwriting.

“I genuinely enjoyed his songs, but the topic was the only problem,” Chan explained. He leaned against your desk, waiting for an answer, not knowing you actually did not know how he was doing.

“To be honest, the last time I saw him was about three days ago. I’ve been busy doing paperwork, I didn’t notice,” you replied. It was true. Usually you’d see Woojin on the way home or you’d get the daily ‘how was your day’ text, but with the work you had been juggling, you had been closer to a zombie than the average human for the past few days.

“Well, hopefully he’s doing well. Tell him I said hi,” Chan flashed a dimpled smile before getting back to the studio. Once he was out of sight, you immediately went for your phone to text Woojin on his progress. Maybe he’d been absent because of his busy songwriting work. Maybe the plan you carried out actually work and you got his creative juices flowing.

Hey, haven’t seen you the past few days. How’s the song going? Chan said hi

You left it at that and got back to work, hoping your phone would vibrate sometime throughout your shift. To your disappointment, the only reason your phone buzzed every now and again was because of some social media notifications that you didn’t care about at the moment.

On the way home, you had decided to stop by the Kim’s house to see if Woojin was doing fine. It wasn’t like him to completely ignore your text, not even when he was mad at you. Maybe he just needed space because he told you about Jiyoung? No that wouldn’t make sense since he was the one who chose to tell you. It meant he was ready to talk about it. Maybe the song was actually going well and Woojin, being the perfectionist he was, was trying to make the song as best as he could? Nah, he would’ve at least answered your text. Right? Nothing really made sense to you. You didn’t do anything wrong and he hadn’t done anything wrong during the mini trip.

To your disappointment, no lights leaked out of any window, meaning no one was home or everyone was sleeping. At this hour, it could most possibly be the latter. You decided to just come over tomorrow, hopefully catching anyone to ask about Woojin.

The next morning, no one had answered the door like they usually would. Mrs. Kim would always be the one to open the door at this hour of the morning, but when you rang the doorbell and no footsteps were heard. To you it was weird. It was like the Kim family had disappeared all of a sudden but how much of a coincidence was it that it was after your day with Woojin? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing weird happened. This just has you all curious. A part of you wanted to know what’s been happening, call Woojin constantly until he answers, but it’s not like you were dating him or anything. The other part of you decided to just leave him alone until he’s ready to talk. He’ll see your text anyways.

So that’s what you did. You went on about your day doing your usual routine, casually passing the plaza in hopes to see Woojin performing a song and entertaining the people passing by. It went on for about four more days, which was actually the longest time you didn’t talk to Woojin for. At one point you had actually missed him, since the last time you hung out with him was pleasant. It felt like that mini road trip you had with him was cut short, like you could’ve elongated it into the next day. You just wanted to spend your days next to him. Maybe you could plan another trip.

Your day at work was actually relaxing for once. There wasn’t really any paperwork to do, or any work to do in general, so you just sat behind your desk assisting those who need it. You tried to keep yourself occupied with some youtube here and there or you just listening to music to pass time.

You stared at the screen, engrossed in a video that had caught your attention. The people who passed by probably found your amused facial expressions weird and not sophisticated like, but you honestly did not give a crap, especially since you were asked to work on a day where there was barely anything to do.

Heavy footsteps approached your desk, which completely went over your head. The video in front of you was much more interesting than footsteps.

“Excuse me? Is Mr. Bang free,” the voice sounded like it was forced to sound deeper, which somewhat startled you. You paused your video and yanked at the earphones you had plugged in, looking up.

“Woojin?” your eyes widened and couldn’t stop the smile that crept up on your face. You hadn’t seen him in basically a week and he suddenly just appears at your workplace unannounced. His presence was a lot to be happy about.

“Hi,” his grin grew wider than it already was. He had bags underneath his eyes and a tuft of hair was found out of place. He was tired but somehow he still had the energy to get all the way to where you worked, a guitar slung over shoulder and a folder tucked neatly underneath his arm.

“Where have you been this whole week?” you stood up. Woojin thought that you were almost going to hug him, but he didn’t think any further.

“Writing this,” he held up the folder, wiggling his eyebrows. You could tell by the way he moved that he was excited to let you listen, probably with Chan as he asked for earlier. “So... is Chan busy?”

“He’s probably busy writing songs, but this is basically part of job so we could probably just barge in,” you shrugged. Your grabbed your phone and turned the computer off on your desk, guiding Woojin to Chan’s studio.

Knocking, you opened the door ajar and stuck your head in, finding Chan laying on the couch with papers scattered around his person. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and he was staring blankly at the ceiling. Probably taking a break.

“Oh it’s just you,” he said monotonically. He sat up causing the sheets of paper to lose their places, “Don’t mind those.”

“Woojin’s here,” you opened the door to reveal the boy standing behind you. It was funny seeing Chan’s smile appear on his face. He looked so miserable when you had entered but now he was as happy as a little kid at a carnival.

Woojin had explained to you both that he had written the song during the past week, which was why he was absent. He wanted to focus solely on the song without any distractions. Now he was here and he wanted to play it to both of you.

Chan placed Woojin in the recording room, hitting record so that he had a copy of the demo. Woojin cleared his throat and strummed his guitar a few times to make sure it was tuned, not that he messed with the chords beforehand. It was always natural, the way his eyes closed and how his lips kind of perked into a smile when he sang. They were just habits of his, ever since he was young. They just emphasized how much music and singing actually meant to Woojin. It was unfortunate Jiyoung didn’t see that.

Like it was rehearsed many times, Woojin began to sing a tune that was unfamiliar yet you felt that you had heard it a million times. They way Woojin sang it just made you feel that way. The words, though it was hard to focus on both words and tune, somehow hit home. The feeling of a newfound love, or infatuation. Just appreciation and admiration in general. Woojin was able to put all your feelings into an almost upbeat four minute song, which simply touched you more than it should have. You hadn’t noticed the way your eyes drooped in awe and how you were tuning everything else out except for Woojin and his song. It was just beautiful.

Once Woojin finished, he bowed his head and sighed into the mic before finally lifting it backup and giving you and Chan an innocent grin. He held his guitar by the neck and slipped out of the recording room, not knowing how much he just affected the two of you.

“Woojin that was actually...” you tried to find the proper words to use, “I would listen to that over and over again and not get tired of it.”

“Woojin how did you come up with that?” Chan questioned. He was quietly clapping and the dimples appeared on his face with satisfaction. He finally had help on the mind twisting task he was given.

“Easy, I took him to inspirational places,” you answered for him.

“Actually, that was just a part of it,” Woojin corrected. He looked like he didn’t know what he was going to say. He searched the room for nothing in particular and then looked back at Chan and you sitting in front of him

“Then what?” you probably sounded disappointed but you didn’t mean to. He did say it sort of helped, but else could have helped him with making the bomb song you had just listened to?

“I-I found a new muse,” Woojin stammered. He wanted to just leave the room like nothing had happened and come back later when he had his mind made up over what to say at this very second. You, on the other hand, felt sort of… jealous? Woojin finding another muse? You didn’t know why but a part of you was just heart.

Woojin took out the notes and the lyrics and handed it to Chan. At the first look of the paper, Chan gasped almost overdramatically, unable to hide his school girl smile. He looked back at you while Woojin was beginning to spin his chair the other direction. He couldn’t make eye contact with you. Not when he was uncertain about what your reaction could be.

“What?” you questioned.

Chan slid the paper over to you. Reading the title of the song, you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

A Song for Y/N Y/L/N

105 notes · View notes

myriad-ocs · 5 years ago

Text

“When will we be able to go back home?”

Hope and Brendon exchange glances, the question they’ve been dreading to hear holding them in a chokehold as neither of them move to respond. Brendon’s shoulders tense, his jaw clenching as he studies Hope, watches as she kneels before their son. She reaches out, gently cupping his face in her hand as Alec giggles at her fingers tickling his skin. The sound brings a smile to Hope’s face — laughter is a rarity in these times, but it is always welcomed.

“I don’t know, my love,” she answers truthfully, and Alec’s face screws up slightly, his features bunched together as he tries to ponder what this means for him, for his parents. “For now, this is home.”

It doesn’t feel like home, Alec thinks, with the deteriorating walls and lack of sunlight. He listens to his father talk about how lucky they were to have stumbled across the tiny shelter, with its hidden underground entrance and two tiny rooms. It’s safe, his father insists, they’ll be safe here, and yet Alec doesn’t feel safe. He doesn’t feel safe in a place where the sunlight can’t reach him, where there’s nothing to stare at except the soil bursting through the cracks in the wooden walls.

“It doesn’t feel like home.” Alec mumbles, and Hope smiles sympathetically at him.

“I know,” she sighs, pulling Alec closer to her as he nestles his face into her shoulder. “I know, but we’ll have to make do.”

“Why are people fighting?” Alec asks, and he feels his mother stiffen as she pulls away slightly to face him. “Why must we run away?”

It is only then does Alec see the exhaustion on his poor mother’s face, her lips pressed together as if holding back the horrible truth of it all, swallowing it and letting it rot in her stomach instead of telling him. Shaking her head, she says, “People fight because they’re scared of each other, Alec, and everyone is very scared right now. The world is changing beyond what we can understand. All that you must know, my love, is that your father and I will always protect you. You needn’t worry about anything else.”

Alec nods, letting his head drop low. He’s not satisfied with the answer, but knows it will be the only answer he gets tonight.

“You must learn to trust your instincts.” Hope suddenly tells him, holding him by his arms as she forces him to look back up at her. His body feels fragile in her hands, her fingers able to wrap completely around his thin, growing bones. “If all else fails, your instincts will always protect you.”

Alec can barely make out her features in the dim lighting of their underground shelter. She has a young face, and even younger eyes, as if she is an entity frozen in time. “But what do I need protecting from?”

Hope smiles at him, loosening her grip around him as if remembering how she doesn’t want to scare him. She pauses, her gaze wandering towards the wall behind Alec as she thinks. “Remember when I taught you to always look for beauty in the world?”

Alec nods. A difficult duty for his mother to task him with, yet he tries every day. Some days, he thinks his mother is the only beauty that exists in the world. She nods along with him, taking in a deep breath as she continues, “Do you know why it’s so hard to find beauty, Alec? Because this world is full of ugliness. It’s full of war and violence, and some days, the only thing that can save you is your belief in yourself.”

She knows this is too much to burden onto his young mind. She can see his eyes searching hers, as if trying to decipher her words, and she lets out a soft chuckle. This world is too much for him, too starved and desperate to latch it’s teeth onto his skin and drain him. She thinks she’d rather die than let that happen.

“Alec,” she insists, holding him in her arms again. “Promise me you’ll never stop believing in yourself. That you’ll never give up on yourself.”

He nods again. “I promise.”

Before Hope can try to change the subject, Alec casts a glance over to where his father sits in the darkened corner of their shelter, clinging to his rifle as he fights off the fatigue that weighs down on him. Looking back at Hope, Alec asks, “Why is father never happy?”

Hope looks over her shoulder, her eyes ever so briefly connecting with her weary husband, before she turns back to Alec.

“Your father is tired, my love. He is tired of fighting.” she finally says, reaching out to brush stray strands of hair out of his forehead. “He is a brave man, but brave men can only endure so much.”

Alec’s mouth opens, lips forming around another question, but Hope is quick to shush him, lifting him into her lap as her fingers tickle his stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt. Alec giggles, wriggling in his mother’s grasp, and she teases, “Come now, you’ve asked me too many questions, and I’m exhausted. It’s time for you to sleep.”

She scoops him up into her arms, carrying him into the back room, setting him down on the rickety bed which caves under Alec, despite how small he is. Brendon hears their hushed voices, their quiet giggling, and it brings the faintest of smiles onto his face. After a pause, Hope emerges from the room, quietly pulling the door shut as it creaks against its rusty hinges. He often wonders who built this shelter before they came upon it, who once dwelled here, and what tragedy forced them underground.

Something bitter rises in his throat as he realises history truly does repeat itself, throwing itself into war time and time again.

“He’s too young to hear about ugliness and war.” Brendon remarks as Hope approaches him, voice low, and Hope lets out a quiet sigh. She moves to sit beside him, reaching out to hold his rough, calloused hands in hers. It’s funny, he thinks, feeling the smoothness of her palms over his skin, how she remains to be soft in a world that is anything but.

“As are we.” Hope responds, gaze unwavering in the flickering candlelight. In times like these, it’s hard for the two of them to remember just how young they are, too. Too young to be parents, too young to be taken seriously, too young to be thrown into such violence. “There is no good age to face something as terrible as war.”

The two sit in silence, feeling the stale air stifling them before Hope leans forward, pressing a kiss to Brendon’s knuckles. Looking up at him, she whispers, “You should also get some rest, my dear.”

Brendon shakes his head, leaning his head up against the door of the shelter, the wood decaying and soft from the years of neglect before they came to inhabit it. He glances to the backroom, can picture Alec tucked under the patchwork sheets, soundly sleeping as his innocent mind has yet to be corrupted. It’s inevitable, with the war creeping closer and closer towards their doorstep, but Brendon wishes he could keep Alec innocent forever.

“I wish I could give a better life for the two of you,” Brendon says, voice trembling. “I wish the two of you could be away from the violence, could be somewhere safe…”

“Brendon,” Hope gently interrupts. “There’s no use dwelling on what could’ve been.”

#what is this u ask?? no idea #an excerpt from something i'll never finish

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alichay · 5 years ago

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As someone who spends a lot of time not being able to work, so you have any advice for the rest of us now? Im finding it very hard to work or be creative right now

oh great question anon!! i think a lot of it will change for person to person, but i can give advice about what helps me. i really hope this isn’t just a list of very obvious things /o\ do feel free to ask any more questions!!

1. be kind to yourself - don’t try and muscle through it. if your brain is exhausted and telling you to stop, listen to it. the sooner you do this, the quicker you’ll recover.

2. stick to a flexible schedule - set a reasonable goal for how long you want to work for, and be prepared to fall short. don’t be tempted to keep going once you’ve met your goal for the day, as it’s likely you’ll pay for it later.

i personally find it helps to break up the day into morning/afternoon/evening, and i have different tasks i can do somewhere within those slots. this will take a bit of trial and error - it’s taken me about six months to figure out how long i can probably do certain activities for, so don’t get too annoyed if on one day you find yourself able to do much more than the next!

3. have a list of things to do that vary in how much attention they need from you, so you can move from one to another without having to think about it too much. when i’ve been sat doing thesis work for a few hours i often want to drop right down to the other end of the scale for a bit, so i have a bunch of youtube channels bookmarked to watch while i recover. seeking stuff out is a big stress for me, so i try to have things at hand to avoid making it worse when i’m already wiped.

4. be prepared for fun things to be tiring. i’m really struggling at the moment because we keep skyping one another and it’s actually as draining for me personally as meeting in-person. fun things might stop being ‘neutral’ in regards to how much energy they take from you, which can feel super unfair if you’re struggling energy-wise more generally.

5. have a tactile hobby. this is the one that works best for me in recharging my creativity, actually. i have a big pile of lego, a few embroidery projects, and i like to garden, and i find that when i’ve done these for a while i’m able to think and work far more afterwards.

6. this fits into #3 and #1, but don’t be afraid to put something down for a while and come back to it. i always assumed that you have to focus on something until it’s finished, but actually i’ve found recently that returning to a project after a few days or weeks away from it makes me far more able to work on it or think creatively.

7. if possible, learn the warning signs. i have a few physical ticks that start to crop up when my brain is trying to tell me that i’m overdoing it before the fatigue hits. i imagine these will change a lot person-to-person, but mine are a sore throat and sudden sensitivity to sound/light.

basically: listen to your body, be flexible, and plan enough ahead that you’ve got things you can move between. godspeed, friend, fatigue is miserable and unpredictable and people can struggle to understand what you’re going through when it’s so invisible. i will also point you in the direction of this youtube channel which is full of helpful advice for dealing with work and fatigue. also she is an actual angel.

#anon anon sir

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jungcupid-archive · 5 years ago

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miraculous, the luckiest! (but not up to the test, like at all)

pairing: jungkook x jimin

summary: in which they’re both superheroes (ladybug and cat noir, to be exact)

a/n: in the show, ladybug has the power to call on a lucky charm to conjure an object and cat noir has cataclysm which enables him to destroy anything he touches with one hand. they’re both powers used towards the end of a fight. the fight is against civilians who have been “akumatized” (their negative emotions have drawn butterflies called akumas towards them and they turn into supervillains). ladybug also has this yo-yo that helps her swing from place to place like spiderman. cat noir has a metal baton that extends. to defeat the villain, the pair must destroy the akumatized object and purify the akuma.

God, it was embarrassing enough having to wear a bright red spandex leotard with black spots while trying to save Seoul from complete and utter destruction, but now that Jimin has a fucking hard-on it seems that it’s not going to take long until his face blends into his outfit.

Who even makes a super-suit out of spandex? Jimin doesn’t know, but he wants to find them and be his own hero for once by wrapping his fingers around their neck.

A huge crowd of people have gathered below his feet, and although he has more pressing matters he should probably request divinely assistance for, he prays that they don’t notice his boner first. Oh, and that they don’t find a way to film it. You can never be too safe with advanced zoom-in technology, Jimin had discovered after someone had snapped a picture of his leotard bunched between his ass-cheeks. He’d been swinging through the city and someone had still managed to capture that in high definition.

Voyeurism knew no bounds, or distances, Jimin had concluded. It’s safe to say that he’s never forgotten to wear underwear (before transforming) again.

He’s a couple stories up, and the wind is strong, but he can still hear the muffled laughter from beside him. He turns to his partner (but not too much – his boner is still very prominent, thanks god!) and narrows his eyes behind his mask.

“Do we have a problem?”

His partner’s eyes emit a greenish glow, and Jimin can clearly tell that they’re crinkled up behind the mask. He clasps a hand over his mouth, trying to stop his giggles, and the bell around his neck tinkles in the process.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jimin spits out, keeping from body-slamming into his partner because he is a prestigious superhero who is a role model to many young children, a lot of which are watching him from way down below as of this very moment.

Violence is not the answer, Jimin inhales deeply and then refines his thought, at least not in public.

The villain they’re facing today – some sort of weird pigeon-man, don’t ask, he’s got a big enough headache as it is – is slowly regaining consciousness. Unfortunately, Jimin’s co-hero (more of a sidekick, really) doesn’t want to let this issue go.

“Who? Me? Never! Although, it’s pretty hard being in the presence of such a monster,” Cat Noir says cheekily from beside him. Jimin is about to reassure him because his heart is just that kind when Cat Noir continues, “Oh, and the pigeon dude is pretty bad too.”

His cat-eyes flick down to Jimin’s No-No Spot and then back up, he grins. Jimin is about to demonstrate what all those kids he’s a role model to should not do when tempted by a bully when he hears the villain groan. He rolls his shoulders and shakes everything off, getting ready to fight. He’s got to stay focused on the mission at hand. It’s fine, he’s fine. It’s completely natural. He shouldn’t be ashamed.

“Although, it’s kind of small, this monster. Almost cute.”

He shouldn’t be ashamed. He should be enraged. Jimin runs a hand through his blond hair and takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He turns to his partner and shoots him a sickly sweet smile.

“Careful, kitty. This monster can cause a lot more damage than you can handle. Not that you’ll ever find out,” and with that, Jimin leaves an indignant Cat Noir behind, using his yo-yo to swing over to the villain. Of course, Cat Noir is right beside him within a minute. They’re partners, after all.

“Okay, Mr. Choi, it’s time to stop now. Give me that whistle and resist Hawkmoth, you know it’s for the best.” Jimin taps Cat Noir’s hand and he slowly starts inching sideways while Jimin holds out his palm. It seems that their villain is still recovering, as he blinks his eyes continuously and doesn’t notice Cat Noir.

“No! Your miraculous! I can’t disappoint him. Hand your earrings over, Ladybug. You know it’s for the best.” Pigeon-dude is fairly well-spoken for someone who just got knocked unconscious from being dropped from 20 feet above the building. Jimin really wishes he hadn’t used his own words against him. Or called him Ladybug when he’d specifically asked everyone to call him Misterbug. Stupid Hawkmoth and his stupid commands.

“I hate this part, but it gives me some sort of sadistic pleasure,” Jimin withdraws his hand and grabs his yo-yo instead, “Cat Noir! Now!”

As soon as the words leave Jimin’s mouth, Cat Noir is in action. He’s a blur of black leather and since he’s been inching towards Mr. Choi, it doesn’t take long to get behind the man. Cat Noir takes the whistle from around Mr. Choi’s neck and, bless his soul, puts it on the end of his metal baton before extending it over to Jimin. The gesture is almost enough to make Jimin forget about the comments he made earlier about his dick (which is slowly retreating back towards Jimin’s body, thank god). Almost.

“And here I was thinking you’d just throw it to me. I guess you do have some brain cells rolling around in the kitty litter in your head,” Jimin smirks and throws the whistle to the ground, stepping on it to crack the plastic.

“In this wind? Please, I’m more than just a pretty kitty.” Jimin laughs despite himself and drags his finger down his yo-yo, opening it to capture the Akuma that escapes from the broken whistle. He quickly seals it inside and opens it back up, finding the once dark purple butterfly now transformed into white.

Jimin watches the butterfly fly away and grabs the Lucky Charm he’d called on earlier, a bag of bird seed – again, don’t ask, it’s getting late and Jimin really doesn’t have the patience to explain anything anymore – and throws it into the air. Immediately, red wisps of sparkling images of ladybugs fill the sky. They zoom through all the destruction their fight had left behind and restore everything back to its original state. Mr. Choi loses his costume and looks dazed. Jimin doesn’t have the energy to bring the victim back to his home, so he turns to Cat Noir (proudly, now, because he’s boner-free).

“Think you can take care of this for me, Cat?” Cat Noir nods and grins at Jimin, his cat ears being blown along with his hair back and forth because of the wind.

“Until next time, bugaboo,” Jimin makes a face at this and recoils, very much hating what just came out of his partner’s mouth. Cat Noir, unfazed, doesn’t let the grin drop from his face as he helps Mr. Choi up.

“Alright,” Jimin manages, already feeling the fatigue taking a toll on him, “Bug out.” Jimin steps onto the ledge of the building and throws his yo-yo into the city, feeling it cling onto something before he lets himself fall over the edge. Once he’s got enough momentum, he releases the yo-yo and lets it catch onto another building. His arms protest, searing with pain, but he doesn’t have a choice. Walking would be impractical and way too chaotic (and he’s a broke college student, remember?). Not only are his arms killing him, but Jimin feels like he’s been socked in the stomach. With every strained use of his upper torso, Jimin has to take 10 deep breaths. Jimin hears the cheers from below as he swings through the city but the smile on his face barely stretches to his eyes.

Jimin is tired and, apparently, horny, so you can understand why defeating the latest villain in what was a line of 5 akumatized victims in 3 days has him completely drained. God, either he needs to get laid or eat more vitamin gummies. Maybe get laid while eating vitamin gummies. Does Jimin have a food kink? No. Probably not. Unless…?

Letting his thoughts wander, Jimin swings through Seoul until he finds a hidden corner to transform back into himself. As soon as he utters the words ‘spots off’, his supersuit (because leotard is just such a horrible word) develops holes in it before it disappears entirely. Where to? Jimin doesn’t know.

Now you might be wondering, why is Jimin so fucking clueless? Listen, he’s not in it for the knowledge. He just wants to kick ass, get validation from complete strangers and maybe find a way to channel his anger in a healthy manner along the way. And if he had to say it, yes, he’s in it for the free anonymous friend as well. Cat Noir may be a major pain in the ass, but he’s a good partner and friend. For instance, him taking the victim back because Jimin was too exhausted to do it himself.

More than that, Cat Noir knows how to read Jimin effortlessly. They’d talked about the whole gig when they’d first gotten their powers. Jimin had found a pair of earrings sitting neatly on top of his desk and Cat had found a ring. Once they’d put the items on (because from the little Jimin knows about his friend, he is also a broke college student and wouldn’t dare pass up the opportunity to obtain free things), they’d both felt this sense that a part of them had been opened up to someone else.

Along with a ton of other information that entered their brains so fast and hard that Jimin had gotten a migraine that lasted for a week and Cat Noir hadn’t been able to stop throwing up every hour for 3 days, of course. Because life is pain, but superhero life is, like, Pain pain.

It didn’t take long before the world’s first supervillain had unleashed his minion on Seoul and the world’s first superheroes had to step up to the batting cage. Jimin had been scared shitless, rightfully so, and although Cat Noir boasts about never having any hesitation, Jimin knows he’d been pretty lost as well. As soon as they’d started fighting, though, it was like nothing else mattered. They clicked instantly, knowing exactly what the other wanted to do and why they wanted to do it without either having to exchange words.

Not mind reading, but something else. Something that allowed for a constant stream of rightness between them and intuition so strong that often, when Jimin moved to do something, Cat Noir would already be waiting with assistance. It was nice, except for when Cat decided to make bad jokes and flirt with Jimin in a way that made him want to cry and laugh at the same time. His partner is a dumbass with a good heart, and it’s absolutely infuriating (okay, fine, it’s endearing). In another world, Jimin can see how he would even fall for those antics.

Jimin walks into his apartment building and takes the elevator up. Sometimes, he feels bad about leaving Cat Noir hanging so many times. They’re good friends, but Jimin knows that’s all they’ll ever be. Because his heart belongs to someone else, whether that someone knows it or not. The elevator comes to a stop and Jimin steps out, reaching for his keys. Cat Noir seems too genuine about his feelings towards Jimin sometimes, and yes, he uses his own name because he knows that Cat Noir would love him with or without the mask. It was Jimin who had decided not to reveal each other’s secret identities, while Cat Noir had begged him to reconsider.

It’s unfair to Cat, but Jimin’s not leading him on, and he can’t blame himself for letting someone else capture his heart. Jimin sticks the key in the lock and turns it, wondering if his roommate will be inside. A large thump and something that sounds like a bell tinkling confirms that he’s home as Jimin opens the door. Before he can step into their living room, he hears a voice.

“Jimin! Don’t come in! I’m, uh, naked! Give me a minute to get dressed, yeah?” Jungkook calls out from the living room. Jimin, despite himself, blushes and calls, “Sure. Um, take your mime! Shit, I meant time! Haha... okay.”

Ladies and gentlemen, the Miraculous Ladybug (unfortunately, Misterbug just isn’t catching on) in all his bumbling glory.

Jeon Jungkook, the only man alive that can make Jimin, a literal superhero, shy and would probably make Cat Noir, the pettiest person alive, extremely jealous.

Jimin is technically supposed to be morally superior as a superhero, but you’d have to be inhuman to not want to sneak a peek at Jeon Jungkook putting on clothes. He was built to be stared at for hours on end, if Jimin were to be honest, and who was he to deny god’s intention? Just as he is about to stick his head around the corner, he hears Jungkook’s voice telling him that it’s “all clear”.

Great.

Jimin steps into the living room and is greeted with an (unfortunately) fully clothed Jeon Jungkook. He grins at Jimin while walking to the kitchen and Jimin honest to god nearly pees himself from how fucking attractive he is. Weak-kneed and the vague thought of buying adult diapers on his mind, Jimin slips into his room and sheds his clothes, taking a look at himself in the mirror. There are bruises running up his ribs (probably from when his graceful partner had extended his baton without realizing it was pointed right at Jimin`s midsection) and more scattered across his legs. His suit was pretty good at deflecting anything that could potentially give him cuts and scrapes but this time around, he`s got a couple of scratches on his arms.

Jimin, surprisingly, is a pacifist. He really is. Violence should never be the primary solution, but as a superhero, more times than not, he`s had to abandon this philosophy. Sometimes, he wonders why – because seriously, he’s still not cut out for this shit – but he knows that if he’s had to abandon his philosophy, he might as well stick to his morality. That is, to save people from harm (seeing people naked not inclusive). It’s days like these when he’s burned out and aching from a particularly difficult fight that he wonders what it would be like to give it all up.

Jimin opens a drawer and takes a handful of pain relief patches, sticking them carefully onto his body one by one. It’s not like he gets any bonuses. If anything, it just makes life harder. Classes take three times the effort to attend, relationships take half of his week’s worth of energy to maintain and crushes are basically out of the question. To get into a relationship meant to endanger a loved one or, possibly, leave them grieving if worst came to worst. So why didn’t he take off his camouflaged earrings and leave them on someone else’s pillowcase or dressing table or pant pocket?

Jimin will tell you why. Because being a moron runs through his bloodstream. Because his brain cell bank balance is in the negatives. Because at the end of the day, if he were to give up this life, Jimin knows that he’d regret it.

Being a superhero is tough, Jimin’s not going to sugar coat it, but not being a superhero after having been one would tear him apart. He has a need to help people in bigger ways than his 8-year program in clinical psychology (yeah, his brain cell bank balance isn’t the only one in the negatives right now) will.

A knock at his door alerts Jimin, and he quickly pats down the patches all over his body and pulls on his clothes. He opens his door and tries not to drop dead from how cute his roommate looks. Jungkook is standing there with a sheepish smile, a tube of muscle-pain relief cream in his hands.

“How bad?” Jimin squeaks out (shut up, he knows he’s pathetic), letting Jungkook into his room. Jungkook winces as he sits on Jimin’s bed, already tugging off his shirt. Maybe it’s some sort of syndrome that he should get checked out but suddenly, Jimin’s mouth is a lot more dry.

“A little worse than usual, you know how it is,” Jimin feels concern washing over him as soon as Jungkook’s shirt is off completely, all traces of his hypothetical medical condition have left. Jungkook’s back is littered with purple and blue bruises. The streetlights from outside his window cast a yellowish hue on Jungkook’s skin and it makes the mark look that much more sickly.

“Jungkook,” Jimin breathes, “is your coach insane?”

About two months ago, right when Jimin had received his earrings and became Ladybug, Jungkook had joined a boxing club. Jimin hadn’t even heard of this kind of torture disguised as an extracurricular activity before, but he got to know it soon enough. Jungkook started coming home looking really beat up, and when Jimin said this, he meant really beat up. Sometimes, he’d have bruises and cuts to the degree that Jimin would – and Jimin was a goddamn superhero. One night, Jungkook had come to him and asked if he’d rub some of the muscle-pain relief cream on his back and when Jimin had learned just how much it helped with the tension, he started doing it every night. It was routine at this point.

“Maybe,” Jungkook lets out a laugh that quickly turns into a hiss when Jimin’s finger makes contact with one of the darker bruises, “he’s just really passionate about turning us into full-fledged fighters.”

“Still, you need to tell him to chill or something. You’re too perfect – I mean too pretty – shit, okay, no, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t deserve this. Every night, it’s like you’ve come out of a fight with an akumatized person or something.” Jimin feels Jungkook tense under his fingers and he panics, taking back his words at once. “I mean, of course, I know you love that club. You’re free to do whatever you want! I mean, obviously. Plus, you’re good at everything so… yeah… ha…”

A mental face-palm isn’t enough anymore, Jimin physically smacks his face with his hand. Of course, right after that he starts screaming because he had the fucking cream on his hands and it’s in his eyes and fuck it burns it burns it BURNS.

Jungkook has to help him wash it all out of his face. Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever been so ready to die.

God, he pleads silently as he’s trudging back to his room with a squeaky-clean face, if you have any mercy, please wipe the events of today from Jeon Jungkook’s mind. If you turn out to be merciless, please note that I will be going to hell and becoming best friends with Satan himself so that together, we can make your life in heaven a non-living hell. Amen.

One day, the big guy upstairs is going to get tired of Jimin’s bullshit. How does Jimin know this?

Because he’s been tired of his own bullshit for the past 19 years.

Jungkook watches as Ladybug throws his lucky charm into the air and tells the voice in his head to shut up when it starts telling him that he would be useless without his partner.

It’s true, but it doesn’t mean Jungkook has to take it.

“Think you can take care of this for me, Cat?” Jungkook perks up at this, nodding with a grin on his face.

“Until next time, bugaboo,” He calls in a saccharine voice, making Ladybug’s face go sour. Jungkook knows he doesn’t mean it, though, he could never hate his beloved Cat Noir. Well, that’s what he tells himself. Jungkook helps Mr. Choi up and adjusts his footing so that he’s able to carry all of the other man’s weight.

“Alright,” Ladybug says with a tired smile , “Bug out.”

He’s fallen over the ledge before Jungkook can respond, and he has to stop himself from calling out his name. It’s not like Jungkook is in love with Ladybug or anything (DEFINITELY NOT) but he cherishes his time with the other, wanting to milk every moment for what it’s worth. Ladybug is purr-fect (Jungkook is clever, he knows) in every way possible and Jungkook just wants to bask in his glory like a cat in sunlight.

Alas, Ladybug doesn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings. Jungkook throws a mental hand to his forehead in distraught and acts out a quick 7-second drama in his head before addressing Mr. Choi.

“Let’s get you back home.” In an instant, they’re soaring across the sky on the baton while Jungkook most definitely is not ranting about his feelings to this literal stranger they just fought. Nope, definitely not.

The window is wide open and Jungkook berates himself for leaving it open this morning. Not that he’d have much trouble taking down any intruders, he’s rather claw-lified that way (Qualified? Claw-lified? Get it?). Still, he doesn’t live there alone. If Jimin were to come home and be put into danger because of an intruder, Jungkook wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

He slips into the window stealthily and then, of course, fall flat on his face when he hears the front-door unlocking.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-

“Jimin! Don’t come in! I’m, uh, naked! Give me a minute to get dressed, yeah?” Jungkook cries in desperation. He hears the footsteps cease and Jimin’s words ring out clear in the apartment.

“Sure. Um, take your mime! Shit, I meant time! Haha.. okay.”

Jungkook smiles and thanks the gods above for giving him such a kind roommate.

“Claws in,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, letting his suit slowly tear and stretch before it disappears completely. His ring loses its black colour and the neon green pawprint. Jungkook, out of habit (although he knows he’s never going to find anything), pats his hair and makes sure his cat ears didn’t accidentally stay on his head or something. Hey, freak accidents were a thing and you could never be too careful.

Especially if you were a superhero.

“All clear,” Jungkook says, heading to the kitchen. Unfortunately, his suit is not equipped to carry a water bottle. Jungkook blames the lack of hydration for the acne that has started popping up on his jaw but honestly, he’s probably just really stressed out. An enormous mental toll came with this whole superhero gig. unfortunately.

Jungkook was disappointed, but not surprised.

After a quick drink of water, Jungkook heads to his room to evaluate the damage but can’t even manage to turn his torso to take a look at his back. His sides are so sore that Jungkook wonders how he’s going to sleep tonight. His back was out of the options entirely, so were his sides, and his stomach wasn’t looking too good either.

Jungkook winces as he bends over to grab his tube of muscle-pain relief cream from the bottom drawer of his nightstand, but it’s not just from the pain. If his stomach was hurting this bad, he wonders how bad Ladybug is feeling. He’d been stupid and had managed to extend his baton right into his partner’s ribcage.

Which was just great, you know? Really did a lot for his non-existent love life.

Jungkook walks to Jimin’s room and pauses at the door. He hopes that Ladybug is alright, he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it up to him, but he has to. He just has to. Without really thinking about it, Jungkook raises a fist and knocks on Jimin’s door. He hears a bit of rustling inside and in a matter of seconds the door is open and Jimin is facing him.

“How bad?” Jimin asks in a high voice. Jungkook can’t help but feel relief and gratitude flood through him as he sits on Jimin’s bed (that, on the other hand, only floods him with pain). Park Jimin has only known Jungkook for 2 months or so, but he’s been so accommodating and is probably one of the only friends he has. When Jungkook had left his hometown, he’d most feared the possibility of not making friend, but Jimin dispersed his worries almost right away. The boy is too kind for his own good and fills Jungkook with pride to be able to call him his friend.

“A little worse than usual, you know how it is.”

Jungkook pulls his shirt off in a swift motion and clenches his teeth when his pain shoots through his shoulders. It’s never been this bad and he knows that Jimin is concerned when he says, “Jungkook, is your coach insane?”

He tries to laugh it off but can’t help but suck in a breath through his teeth when Jimin’s finger makes contact with his back. “Maybe, he’s just really passionate about turning us into full-fledged fighters.”

Jungkook doesn’t believe himself, and he’s the one making up the stupid lie. But Jimin has been buying it for 2 months, so he can’t be as bad of a liar as he thinks he is. A lot of the times, Jungkook contemplated telling Jimin. His roommate is too sweet to be duped like this, plus he’d really like having someone to talk to about superhero stuff (okay, yes, and his crush on Ladybug, are we happy now?).

But Jungkook would never risk his friend’s like that. Never.

It’s times like these when Jungkook finds it especially hard to keep his identity a secret. He involuntarily tenses, Jimin’s breath making goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. In the mirror, Jungkook catches sight of Jimin’s face and observes how it goes from concern to flustered to panicked and he has to stop from laughing. In a different reality, and Jungkook will freely admit this, he could see himself with Jimin. Jungkook could picture himself falling in love with this literal angel, but in this reality, they’re just really good friends – and Jungkook is really happy about that (especially since he already has Ladybug).

“I mean, of course, I know you love that club. You’re free to do whatever you want! I mean, obviously. Plus, you’re good at everything so… yeah… ha…”

Jungkook is about to assure Jimin that he didn’t say anything wrong when he sees the boy cover his face with his hand in the mirror. Jungkook turns around immediately, wide-eyed, and grimaces when Jimin starts screaming and using an extensive vocabulary Jungkook wasn’t aware he had.

Jungkook ends up helping Jimin wash it all out. He offers running out and buying an icepack but Jimin refuses, profusely red in the face and mumbling something about god as he stalks off to his room.

Later on, as he’s moving his body over and over again to find a comfortable position to sleep, Jungkook pictures a certain superhero in red and becomes pliant, coming to a stop on his bed. A smile spreads across his face.

“It’s all worth it if it’s for you,” Jungkook whispers through his smile. He falls asleep that way, moonlight streaming in to coat his skin and make his smile shine brilliantly.

“Cat, I don’t think we’re qualified to be superheroes.”

“Unsurprisingly, I completely agree my, purr-ince.”

“I can’t believe she managed to actually trap us.”

Ladybug and Cat Noir are sitting back to back, their hands joined at the wrists by a rope made of indestructible fibers. Ladybug had tried calling on his lucky charm earlier but it had skittered far away from him, leaving him unable to reach it while he was still tied to Cat Noir (whose Cataclysm had also failed him, they decided that indestructible really did mean indestructible).

“Well, I don’t see how we’re getting out of this one. Unless, you’ve got a plan, bugaboo?” Ladybug laughs and doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Nope, but we’re going to have to put our heads together and really think. I’ve got someone I want to be able to get back to.” Cat Noir pushes his head back against Ladybug’s and smiles, ignoring the hundreds of questions his partner’s words incite.

“Yeah,” he says fondly, “Me too.”

did everyone enjoy that? yes? no? want more?

#jikook fics #kookmin fics #jikook #kookmin #idk what this is i wanted it to be longer but also i got tired #im only made for short fics tbh slkfdj #jungkook #jimin #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jungkook x jimin #jimin x jungkook #jikook fanfiction #kookmin fanfiction #jikook fanfics #kookmin fanfics

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