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queengiuliettafirstlady · 2 years ago

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To follow the Polar Star

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Keith x OC (July)

Prompt: Mermay

Tag: Forbidden Love Stargazing Mythological creatures Fluff

Word Count 1.561

Author’s Note: Special thank you to @kissmetwicekissmedeadly for suggesting this challenge to me, with the prompt Celestial a bit different than something I usually do, here it is my entry, super late but anyway I really hope you can enjoy this fic and the banner, I spend more time than I would like to admit creating it to my liking. 😆

A story worth telling between two people who should have not met, but they did, turning upside down all the belief they had, following the polar star that led them both to their destiny, bonding them together with Love. 🥰

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978

@william-rex @candied-boys @writingwhimsey

@fang-and-feather @moonstruckmelancholic

@wistfulwanderingone @rjthirsty @lichtluv

@ike-garden2024 @jollibeeshappiness @starzyquee

@maeko-kun @rkmaru

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

Stars glimmering in the sky, they attired every kind of gaze from the inquisitive of the sailors looking at them to find their way to the loners, looking at them with a whirlwind of thoughts swimming in their minds to couple romantically looking up at them only to soon indulge in far more pleasurable activity letting their kisses be a worthy show for the crowd of the glimmering constellation witness to their love, to the dreamers searching the universe to find answers for all the question that arises in them, wandering in their reveries like they were used to, a place to let their hearts free of chains of any sort ... not being called weirdos but finally free to be themselves be it for a while.

It was like that he felt everytime he looked up at the night sky, nestled near the border of the ocean where sand meet the water caressing from time to time the curious sea animals that went to check up on him, more often that any of his friends and family ever did anyway, judging him like everyone else a freak with his head on the clouds more interested to learn about other cultures than about politic, struggling all the same to do any choice that he deemed better for his Kingdom, his role of a prince no more than a chain he felt attached to his wrist, able to break free only at night when everyone was asleep and his guards thought useless to watch over the meek and mild prince of Atlantis.

His eyes locked to the stars above the only place he felt to belong to, the slow rolls of the waves crashing on the shore pleasant melody to that spectacle, noticing a figure sat on the sand gazing at the sky the same way before he knew it words he never intent to spoke resonated in the still air of the night

“Do you like the stars ?”

he swimmed closer to it taking on her figure quietly sat on the shore, little waves crashing on her feet melting with the long light gown now floating above the water, startled by the voice she looked at him in the dark, noticing him only when he was so close to her she could almost have touched him if she wanted to,

“I am sorry I did not want to scare you away… please stay.” his voice reached her before she could go away, moved by the pleading apologetic tone of his voice she returned to her place on the shore as little waves begin melting back into her gown

“I do like stars and you ?” he was becoming bolder he knew of that, maybe even bothering her, but at that time something else was winning over, his need, his deep desire to have someone to talk to, someone who understood him, someone that maybe could see him as something more than the weird kind prince he was … not receiving an answer he sighed in defeat when suddenly her voice crystal clear and soft like the frizzy breeze rustling on the ocean resonated in the still air of the night.

“I do too.”

Her smile was the most glimmering he has ever seen and her eyes two pools of turquoise he want to dive in and never remerge shining under the light of the full moon, as hair wavy and black like the night sky rustled around her beautiful features

“What is your name ?”

“Keith Howell… and yours ?”

“I am July.”

“It is such a pretty name it suits you.”

“Thank you.”

her question coming unexpected like a summer storm

“Are you not cold in the water ?” no one ever asked that, no on ever cared enough to ask, her eyes hiding an hint of concern as she stared at him warming his heart

“Thank you for your concern but I am not. The water at night can be surprisingly warm.”

a knowing smile light up her lips as she continued

“From the morning sun, I thought the ocean was different.”

“Not in this part, here we are protected from the cold and harsher sea currents from the barrier reef, we build it up for that reason.”

“You ?”

“Well my kind.” confusion glimmering in her eyes, he bit his lips nervously while his fingers kept fidgeting with his bracelet

“I did not want to deceive you but … I am not human.” her eyes widened in disbelief, he hold his breath mustering enough courage before facing her again

“I am a merman.” he closed his eyes not to see disgust curling her lips, reopening only at the sound of her voice tickling his ears

“I never met one.” he could not believe it at first so much he had to pinch his hand to see he was not dreaming, for there was nothing but curiosity painted in her glimmering eyes as she got closer to him, unable to look away as she stared in his amber eyes

“Well …I have never met a human either.”

“Me neither.” it was his time to stare at her taken aback by her revelation, swimming closer to her rock

“I am a water nymph, more precisely a nymph of the Ocean.”

“There are others kinds ?”

“Oh yes, some are bonded to lakes while some others to seas.”

“ I did not know that … we have pretty much the same thing, some of our kind thrive in colder water while others do in tropical ones.”

“Interesting.”

The curious stars only witness to their peculiar encounter, first of many others as their heart grow closer each day, he taught her the constellations and all sorts of legends about the stars while she helped him understand the water currents, all the while learning together to take care of the water animals they both loved so much.

It was a warm night, they were admiring the little twinkling stars appear one by one in the sky, melting from afternoon to night in the span of few hours they spend leisurely talking about everything and nothing, until she pointed out at a shooting stars, her eyes glimmering like the full moon as a sun bright smile curled her lips, she turned to face him

“I never told you that but there is a custom among my people, it is said if you wish upon a shooting star your desire will become true, and if a couple do it they will be together forever.”

“It is really interesting. We shall do it.” she nodded enthusiastically

“Remember to keep the secret to yourself or it will not become real.” he was used to keep things to himself anyway but to please her he nodded, shooting her a side line glance once the shooting stars come into view, desiring for their wish to match and be turned into reality, how beautiful it would have been if it worked, he sighed softly admiring her gorgeous smile lit up her pretty features, resisting the urge to caress her soft cheeks, unaware of the gaze she stole from time to time to his side, seeing his amber eyes reflecting the brightness of the moon, shining over his curly grey hairs she did her best to resist the temptation to slide her fingers in his soft locks, oblivious to that feeling taking roots in their hearts.

All the creatures of the ocean advised him to not meddle with people outside the water not to love them for their were far more instinctual people than oceanic ones irrational and weirds he should have been away should have despised them even, and yet every time he thought of her he felt something he never had in his chest an indescribable warmth spreading from his heart galloping wildly like a seahorse, countless nights they spend together watching the stars and talking about the usual thing the weather, their worlds ... and themselves, little by little they hearts were caught under the spell of love.

No one approved of it and no one ever would have if the old men and women of their tribes would have not recognized publicly that feeling claiming it unbreakable, forbidding everyone to tear them apart, forcing them to accept their union, and by consequence even the frequent visit they paid to one another, able to disguise their bodies and meet in each other world with the help of a magic seashell ring they gifted one another.

She was a water nymph.

He was a merman.

They should have never met but they did, two worlds believed irreconciliable were now allies able to forget their quarrels in honor of a prosperous peace for their kinds.

Their feeling was unusual, they were frowned upon by everyone and yet after seeing the everlasting happiness their love brought them both, changed minds and hearts of the more rebels people among their kinds, all that give immense entertainments of the asters and all the star peeking curiously at them hiding behind the clouds as the tales of a forbidden love turned reality were the talk of the animal proof and evidence that there was no breaking the most powerful magic of them all enrapturing people since the beginning of the universe for mighty and deep was the spell of love.

#ikemen prince #mermay 2023 #ikemen prince keith #original character #ikepri keith #my writing #ikepri

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nena-la-fresa · 3 years ago

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Cooked My Way To Your Heart |Part 1|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio | If you don’t I’ll automatically block you because I’ll assume you’re are a minor.

Part 2

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x f!Reader

Warning: Fluff | Eventual Smut | Violence | Angst | Love Triangle

Word Count: 3340

Y/n woke up slightly to the sound of a distant but loud groan Tamaki was making from the kitchen. She had remembered that he mentioned that he was going on a mission today. Before she could even say good luck to him he was already gone, she assumed he was in a rush to leave on time. Getting up from her bed she had made her way to the kitchen. Looking down at the table, she saw the food container that she made him the night before. She panicked and grabbed the container making her way out the door.

Tamaki walked pretty fast, so by the time Y/n noticed he had left his food he was already halfway to meeting up with Fat Gum. The BMI hero had thought it was a better idea to meet in the small shopping center that his apprentice lived by. Y/n wasn’t the fastest runner so by the time she made it to the shopping center she saw that Tamaki and the Hero had already started to walk away.

“Tamaki!” She screamed out.

Hearing her voice, he quickly turned around. He felt his face turn red. Her loud scream had brought attention to her, which resulted in people looking at him as well. “Oh god no.” He put his head down to avoid looking at her.

Fat Gum heard his apprentice and turned around. Had the light not shined on her skin the way that it did he would have chuckled. The woman was in sandals and wearing what he assumed was her pajamas.

Out of breath Y/n spoke as she caught up to them, “Tamaki, you left your food at home. I know how much you need my food for your missions.” Handing him the food she looked over at the Hero that was next to her little brother. She had to look high considering the man in his hero form was eight feet. She smiled up at him and extended her hand for him to shake, “It’s nice to finally meet you Fat Gum, my brother talks about you all the time.”

Fat Gum smiled back and shook her hand, unable to look away from her, “Nice to meet ya too.” Pulling back his hand he spoke again, but this time turned to Tamaki, “I had no idea you had a sister.”

Y/n scoff playfully, “Yeah apparently he has a problem with telling people about me.”

A meek response came from the seventeen year old, “They all have the same reaction and it just brings more questions that I don’t want to answer.”

“Well you two sure don’t look like each other. Who do you both take after?” Looking back at Y/n he noticed that the difference between them was vast. They really didn’t have any similar features.

“He takes after our mom the most, his biological mother. I clearly take after my biological parents.”

“Oh so you’re adopted?”

“Yeah. I was adopted at 5 though so it was before I could fully proceed a lot so it doesn’t really feel like I was.”

Fat Gum nodded and it got a bit quiet, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to change the mood. But also besides that I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of him. I get really worried about him.” She ruffles his hair while he pulls away.

“It’s no problem. I do what I can, but he’s a strong kid. Most of the time he protects himself.” Fat Gum too ruffles Tamaki’s hair being greeted with a small glare.

“Would you two please stop this? You’re attracting attention.” Tamaki pulled on his hood to hide his eyes. “Especially you.” He motioned to her, “You left the house in your pajamas.”

“Oh come on, Tamaki. How could a beautiful woman like your sister not attract attention? Especially in those clothes.” Fat Gum kept smiling at her, the light blush that appeared on his face was noticeable to anyone. She had heard compliments from a couple of parents whenever she visited Tamaki’s school during conferences, but none of them had ever made her face feel warm like this.

“And that’s the type of response Tamaki hates so much.” Y/n lightly laughed, it was cut short when Tamaki grabbed the food from her hands and started to walk away.

“You think I can take you on a date tomorrow?” Fat Gum blurted out randomly causing Y/n’s eyes to widen and Tamaki to stop walking.

“W-what!?” Y/n stuttered. “We just met. You can’t go on a date with someone you just met.”

“Why not?” Fat Gum said nonchalantly.

“Because you could-” She froze trying to think of an answer. “I don’t know…kidnap me?”

Fat Gum let out the sweetest laugh, trying not to offend her. “I don’t think that’s possible with me being a hero and all. But come on, one date. What do ya say?”

Y/n was completely baffled, but she couldn’t help but laugh at how cute his persistence was. “How about we just start off with getting food.”

Fat Gum smiled, “So a date then.”

The smile on her face just kept growing, “No, just food to get to know each other.”

Fat Gum mumbled, “That’s technically a date.”. But he spoke back up, “Alright then, meet me by the train station tomorrow, at two.”

Y/n’s face hurt from all the smiling, “Alright, see you then. Please take care of Tamaki for me.” She walked up to her brother and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “See you at home.”

She waved goodbye and started to walk back home. Tamaki groaned, “Please don’t go tomorrow. She’s my sister.”

All Fat Gum could do was smile at the woman walking away. “You heard her. It’s not a date, so don’t worry. I won’t fall in love with her or anything.”

Tamaki groaned, “I hope so.”

After having left Y/n the two had gone on with their mission. It had been a success that didn’t stop Fat Gum from thinking this would become a bigger issue than it already was.

Tamaki looked at the skinny form of his mentor, “Are you alright? You look tired.”

Fat Gum smiled at the boy, “Of course!”

But once he said that he held his side from the sharp pain. He lied, he really felt like shit. “I guess not, I’ll get myself checked out and then go home. You should too, I don’t want your beautiful sister to be worried about you.” Tamaki rolled his eyes at the teasing of his mentor but listened.

Fat Gum and Tamaki successfully captured the criminals who were selling illegal quirk enhancers. With the many intense hits to the face and stomach Fat Gum had used up his energy which led him to revert to his skinny form. Fat Gum was still able to walk towards the paramedics, and told Tamaki to do the same.

Once the paramedic was done he told Tamaki he was good to go home. The walk home was long but when he got home he saw that his sister was gone. He could only assume that she had gone to work. He was going to call the restaurant she worked at to tell her he was home but decided not to.

Tamaki was right. Y/n was at the restaurant using her quick to give food to customers. The restaurant had been packed the whole day. She felt lucky that she had enough servers, but she was reaching her limit. Her head started to hurt and was feeling lightheaded. She was on meal 297, so she could only manage to take a few more customers and close up for the day. She had made enough for today so she felt okay about closing early.

The line outside the restaurant was closed off. One server told the people outside that Y/n had reached the limit of her quirk, they sighed but understood. After Y/n finished cooking her last meal, as she finished she rubbed her head and sat down.

“Hey Y/n, you should go home now. We can close up for today.” One of the servers walked over to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! You did a lot today. You should rest.” The server smiled at her.

She nodded her head and got ready to leave. “Good work today guys. You did good.”

Y/n made it back home before it got dark. Walking into the house she took off her shoes and set her purse down. She saw Tamaki’s shoes resting inside the house.

“Tamaki you home?”

Looking up she saw his head pop out of the corner. “Yeah, I made you dinner since I knew you used up your quirk today. It’s not as good as yours but it’s still something.” Y/n could smell the food, it was a familiar smell she loved so much. She made her way to the kitchen to see what he had made. She smiled at him and helped him set up the table.

As the next day came around she stood in front of the small clock in front of the train station as she waited for Fat Gum. She continued to look around for him, it was about to turn three and this man still hadn’t shown up. She started to think that he stood her up. She thought to herself, ‘Why am I even worried that he stood me up. It’s not like this is a date or anything.’

Y/n sighed and pulled out her phone to confirm the time. When she locked the phone she looked up to see a stranger smiling as he towered over her. She was startled and moved back. Although he was towering over her she couldn’t deny the fact that he was quite handsome.

“Excuse me, do you need anything?” She could feel her face heat up at how close he had gotten to her.

“Oh sorry, I must look different to you since you’ve never seen me this way. But it’s me. Fat Gum. But just call me Taishiro, you know since we were out in public.” He gave her his famous smile. It was the same smile he gave her yesterday. A loving smile that could win over anyone.

That smile proved to her that it was really him. But by the look of his face she had gotten a bit worried. He had bandages on his face. She moved closer to him, she had put her hand on his cheek. Fat was surprised by this, he flinched a bit at the pain. But with her hand on his cheek he felt them start to heat up and turn red.

“You’re hurt, why’d you come if you were hurt? You should be at home resting.”

He just smiled more, putting his hand on her’s, he slowly removed it and lightly held her hand.

“Well I knew I had a pretty woman waiting for me so I couldn't just let her wait forever. But I’d also like to apologize for being late. It hurt a bit to get up from bed. I hope you’d let me repay you for being late.” He moved her hand to his lips, giving it a light kiss.

Y/n moved her hand away slowly after the kiss, her face getting a bit warm. She stood there shocked, his flirting was a bit much for her. She tried to get her eyes off him but it was hard, she cleared her throat and spoke “Well um, you can think about how you want to repay me later. But today I thought I’d just cook for you.” She began to walk ahead of him in the direction of her restaurant.

“Are you sure?” He asked a bit too excited.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Plus you’re hurt. I’d rather us not spend too much time walking around.”

He caught up to her like it was nothing, seeing as he was practically a giant, “Well. I hope you can make a lot then, because I love to eat.”

She laughed, “Oh I know, my brothers told me. He says your favorite is takoyaki too.”

His face lit up. “Yeah! I really like it!”

Y/n giggled at his excitement, “You’re really cute you know that.” She stopped walking, she couldn’t believe what came out of her mouth. It was just an impulse.

“You think I’m cute?” Fat had put his arm on her shoulder and leaned down to her level.

She scoffed, “No, that was a slip of the tongue. Like muscle memory, an accident.” She tried to play it off. It didn’t really work.

“Hm” Now in front of her looking down at her, he smirked at her as he looked her up and down. “Sure. Whatever you say.” He pulled away and began to walk ahead of her.

She sighs but she feels a smile creep on her face. “In your dreams, food boy.”

Having reached their destination, Fat Gum stood in front of Y/n’s restaurant, ‘Food Mania’. It wasn’t huge nor was it small, in a way it felt just right.

Looking back at her, Fat Gum smiled. “It’s a really nice place. Why’d we go to a restaurant? Didn't you say you were gonna cook for me?” The idea of her owning had yet to cross his mind.

“Oh, well I told my customers and servers that I was going to close today for an important guest.” Walking to the front door she took out her keys and opened the door to let him walk in first.

When entering, Fat Gum looked around. He enjoyed the warm feeling the restaurant gave him. It was like you were eating at home, it felt like home. The walls were a warm orange color, the tables were a mustard yellow, and the chairs were a light wood color. “This is your restaurant?” He asked as she led him to a table that was already set up nicely.

“Yup.” She rolled out a cart that had more plates. “So for each plate you get to pick any meal you want that on the menu.”

He looked at all the plates that were on the cart, “Are you saying I can have eight plates of Takoyaki?” He looked at her baffled.

Y/n nodded her head, “Yup. And if eight isn’t enough then I’ll make you more.” She smiled at him.

Looking at her warm smile Fat Gum felt heat creeping up on his face. He loved her smile, it felt so inviting and familiar. He watched as she rubbed her hands together, after that she put her left hand above her right one, closing her eyes, she concentrated on the flavor of Takoyaki. A second later it was made, she repeated the process to the rest of the seven plates. Fat Gum looked at her in awe, he was amazed by her quirk.

He forgot about his food for a second as he watched as she created her own meal. After making it she looked up to see his food untouched.

“Fat Gum? Is everything alright?” She resisted the urge to lean over and feel his forehead to check if he was feeling sick.

He got nervous when she looked at him, looking away he picked up a toothpick and grabbed a takoyaki ball. “Please just call me Taishiro. And to answer your question yes I-” He stopped talking as soon as the takoyaki went into his mouth. He couldn’t believe the flavor.

He stopped talking, and now she really began to worry. “Was it not good? I mean I haven’t had them in a while.” She reached over to taste one.

Taishiro finished chewing and grabbed her hand, “It’s perfect. If anything, this is the best takoyaki I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” Smiling at Y/n, Taishiro continued to eat the rest of them while she watched. She couldn’t help but smile at his remark. She’s heard it before and it never failed to make her happy. After his remark she started to eat. Y/n didn’t notice by the time she started eating Taishiro had finished his food and was just watching her eat. It took her a while to finally notice he was watching her.

When looking up she could see him smiling, she felt her face heat up.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?” Taishiro’s smile had shifted to one of a somber look and curiosity.

“Sure, ask me anything.”

“Why are you taking care of Tamaki instead of your parents?” He asked bluntly.

“Oh well it’s kind of simple, our parents decided to finally start traveling. When I turned eighteen they left the house to me and have been traveling ever since. They give us money to help pay the bills. That’s all there is to it.” She answered normally

“And you’re okay with that?”

She looked at him a bit confused, “Why wouldn’t I be. I love Tamaki, he’s my little brother. I’d do anything for him. I mean, I do what I can, my quirk isn’t as helpful as I’d like it to be but I can’t change that.”

“He’s lucky to have a sister like you. ”

“You think so? If anything, I think it’s the other way around. I'm lucky to have him. He’s a good kid.”

“Do you mind telling me more about yourself? I know if I ask Tamaki he won’t tell me anything.”

Y/n laughed but gave into his request, for the whole day they talked to each other about themselves. They told each other their hobbies, what they loved, everything that came to mind. By the time they finished talking it was already eight. Since it was dark Taishiro offered to walk her home, she gladly accepted.

She told him he didn’t need to walk her to her door, that outside the gate was fine but he insisted. “I had fun today, it was good getting to know you today. I enjoyed it.” She smiled up at him.

He blushed hearing her say that, “I enjoyed today too. Thank you for your cooking. I really enjoyed it. I hope I can taste more of it soon. Maybe this time it could be-” Unconsciously he could feel himself start to lean towards her, his words fading as he got closer. Y/n could feel her face heat up. She could feel herself move closer. One hand was on his chest as their faces got closer, their faces inches apart and eyes now closed.

“Ahem.”

Opening their eyes they turned to look at the sound. There stood Tamaki with a can of soda in his hand. He squinted his eyes at both of them.

“It’s a bit too early to be kissing isn’t it?”

They moved away from each other quickly, both had heated faces and looked away from Tamaki.

“Thank you for walking my sister home Fat Gum but I think you should be going home too, it’s getting pretty late.”

“Tamaki” Y/n said in a tone, and lightly hit his arm.

“No it’s alright. He’s right.” Taishiro turned to Y/n as he smiled at her as he grabbed her hand gently and placed his lips on it.

“Thank you again for today. Like I was trying to say last time. Hopefully the next time we do this again, it'll be a real date. But for now I should say goodnight and let you decide that.” He let her hand go and waved goodbye.

It always baffled her when his demeanor changed from playful to flirty. Seeing his sister star struck by his own mentor was odd and made him feel icky. Trying to ignore what this could possibly turn into, he turned around and began to walk back in the house, “Let's go in. It’s getting cold.”

Snapping out of it she responded, “Okay, I’ll be right in.” Looking down at her hand she smiled. She was glad she had accepted to get to know him, it was something new, something she needed. Something good to help keep down what she tried so hard to forget.

#fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #taishiro x reader #bnha taishiro #taishiro toyomitsu #mha taishiro #toyomitsu x reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki #mha tamaki #fatgum #xreader #bnha fanfiction #my hero fanfic #cooked my way to your heart

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

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10 years | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x oc (ft. brother!jimin)

genre: brother's best friend, angst, forgiveness?, teeny tiny fluff (it's barely there lol)

words: 7, 294

summary: 10 years change people but you still remember

"Why are you freaking out?" Isabelle is attempting to get you to stay in one position, but it's fruitless when all you do is pace back and forth in the space of the changing rooms when you hear people barking orders from the outside.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" You exasperate.

Isabelle glares at you, nimble hands reaching to tighten the lace corset around your waist in one swift motion; turning your body to face her as she does her job of primping you up.

"You're being dramatic." She rolls her eyes.

You huff.

You loved Isabelle, probably because she's been working for your family for years and that she was the mother figure in your life that you never could have gotten from your own biological one—but also because she was the only person that knew her way around that thorny mind of yours.

"What would you do if you haven't seen someone in over ten years and the last memory you have with them is bitter?" You say in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle's eyes soften, hands reaching out to rest on your shoulders as your head droops, anxiety blooming in your chest even if you weren't the one getting married today.

"What can you do but say hello?" She says, "Time doesn't stop for anyone, _____."

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you hear the rustles of the curtains, causing both of your heads to turn towards the source of the noise.

"_____, your brother is asking for you." Lea, your brother's wedding planner, peeks her head through the curtains to call you.

Your heart betrays your seemingly calm stature as you begin to perspire, terrified of being face to face with the person that you should've been most excited to see.

"Time's up, ______. You can't run forever." Isabelle says, eyes solemn.

"You'd think being an adult would mean you grow out of old habits ..." Jimin mutters, glaring at you when you finally make your appearance at the rehearsal dinner.

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, unable to forget the fact that he was no longer the older brother that you hero-worshipped because he excelled in everything that he did, nor was he the kid that stole your figurines to spite you. He was a man, older and more mature—with a wedding to celebrate the beginning of a new life with his partner.

He looks nervous, you can tell because you know Jimin better than most—a position you begrudgingly gave up in replacement of his wife, Risa—so you offer him a squeeze of his shoulder, and a look to tell him that you were here, and he was okay.

Jimin accepts it with a small smile of gratitude, moving aside so you could take your seat on the VIP table where most of his important guests sat, meaning your parents, Risa's parents, the best man and the maid of honour.

From the moment you stepped foot into the hall, you spot the person that should have been unfamiliar to you, but all you can remember is what was the best years of your life that was taken away from you. It should've been hard to spot him through the pastels and people, but you've always had eyes for him—the foolish lens of a girl that didn't want to grow up.

Even as you seat at the table, mingling with your future sister-in-law, and the maid of honour, along with Risa's parents, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge him just yet, and he has yet to make it known that he acknowledges you too.

Perhaps it was the pettiness from both ends. The fact that neither of you wanted to step down just yet, the last known interaction between the both of you only causing your heart to constrict further. You wonder if he remembers you the way you have with him.

"______," Risa calls your name, leaning in to whisper into your ear as you snap your focus on her.

"Hey, sorry." You mumble, scratching your neck, "Was a little distracted."

Risa offers you an understanding smile and you're grateful to the heaven's above that Jimin managed to make a woman like her fall in love with him. It was a far better alternative and change from the demons he used to go for as a high schooler, and you fondly (but not really) remember fighting off crazy exes when your brother decided that they weren't his long-term.

"Is this about ..." You can tell Risa hesitates to say his name, knowing the matter was still a fresh wound for you even if you had a decade to heal.

You sigh, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze, mustering a strong front so she wouldn't worry anymore.

"Don't worry about me. It's your special day." You remind her with a soft smile.

She scoffs.

"Not yet. This is to ensure nothing goes to shit and no one gets left at the altar on a real day." She mutters.

You giggle, and even Jimin picks up on his soon-to-be wife's comment and pinches her hip, giving her a glare that lacked any real malice. You observe the way Jimin leans into his fiancee's touch when she reaches for his hand, a gesture so simple but carried the weight of lovers that wholly trusted each other.

Sometimes you envied Jimin. Throughout your adolescent years, you were always pinned against him for reasons that you still cannot justify.

The two of you were fundamentally different in nature. Jimin was a quiet kid, but his actions were the ones that spoke for him instead. For what he couldn't say in words, he made up for through the results of his actions. As a younger sibling, watching Jimin excel in every activity that he sets his mind to make you worship him, wanting to be as talented and ambitious as he was.

If he did kendo, you'd sign up so you could carry on the legacy of his talent. When he ran for class president, so did you in your own grades. Everything was always stemmed around Jimin and what he did.

Even if he was quiet, he naturally took the lead in doing things. Where you were the polar opposite. A louder than life personality should have made you the proactive one, but deep down you were meek, timid and terrified of doing things out of your comfort zone.

It did hit a sore spot for you and Jimin's relationship when he grew up enough to no longer facilitate his baby sister's incessant whines and tugs to join him in his activities. You remember the day clearly when he told you that you were nothing but an extension of him.

When you look back, you can think of it as a fond memory of two teenagers that were horrible at speaking about their feelings, but you remember the hurt you felt; only wanting to be a part of Jimin's life when he wanted to be on his own.

It took a few years to repair the relationship that was fragile, to begin with, and it wasn't just the effort of you or Jimin, but—

"Hyung, do you need to run the video through IT to check if it's playable?"

You're brought back to the present when Jimin's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you instantly know who he's referring to.

The only person that he could comfortably refer to as 'hyung' was the only person that you have yet to greet, or acknowledge.

"I see what you're doing, Park. You're not seeing this video until the 13th."

The rest of the people at the table laugh at the banter between best friend's, but you remain uncharacteristically silent. No one picks up on it—or if they did, they know well enough not to point it out for the sake of maintaining normalcy at the table.

You listen attentively to the briefing run down by Lea, and you smile fondly at the fire that the young wedding planner carried in herself. She was meticulous, and you only had Risa to thank for managing to get the most dedicated wedding planner that you were sure was out there.

Eventually, you had to practice the walk-in from the runway, up until the altar behind where the bride and groom were to be situated. That meant you have shuffled around under Lea's commands, and that you caught more of his appearance than you would have liked.

Of course, he grew up beautifully. He had always been exceptionally good-looking even from when you were in high school up to your early college years. The birth lottery definitely favoured some people, and he was on the top of the list.

But he no longer had the same youthful charm that he did when you last saw him at 23. He looked rougher around the edges, lines on his face that come with time and experience, the stroke of a paintbrush that you weren't there to witness. Age did him well—and you couldn't deny the fact that as he grew, he also grew more attractive. The assuredness that comes with age, and the physique that you can only appreciate from afar.

The suit he's wearing is ever so flattering on his broad shoulders. He followed the theme well, a black blazer, with a deep-maroon sash draped over his shoulders. You applaud the designer that had done the fitting for him because it looked perfect, quite literally like it was made for him.

You feel mediocre immediately. The dress you were wearing was stunning—in the most objective sense—and you had a matching coloured sash that was draped around your hips instead, the corset accentuating your figure. But you were still far from comparison from him. You always have been.

"_____, could you please stand next to Jin?" Lea's voice calls out an order from the front of the altar, waving her notebook at you to step aside.

Your eyes widen as you feel the blood in your face drain, hearing your new position for the photo session.

You don't want to throw anyone off, or make Jimin's special day about you—so you suck it up, take a deep breath and shuffle into position next to Jin.

His presence is overwhelming. It's like he's there but he isn't. He doesn't feel like he's there, probably because of how long the two of you haven't spoken to each other, basically strangers. You don't acknowledge him even when your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and you definitely don't acknowledge him when Lea smiles at the two of you and says perfect.

You see Risa's concerned stare on the two of you, but you give her a tight smile and mouth to her to focus on what Lea's saying instead. She narrows her eyes at you but finally relents when you nod your head to tell her that it was fine.

You were older. You weren't going to let some ... you didn't even know what to call it. But you weren't going to let the past make you feel uncomfortable when the future hasn't been told just yet.

"Jin—could you loosen up a little? It looks like you're constipated and your face isn't going to make up for that on camera," Lea deadpans, shooting a blunt comment straight at Jin.

He flushes beside you, but you don't look at him to know that because you hypothesised that he still has the same habit of his ear's turning red if all attention is on him.

"You and I know my face would've been the highlight of the picture if it weren't for the lovebirds." He quips back.

You can't find it in yourself to laugh yet when others do, but you look down at your feet to pretend like you were distracted.

Even his voice sounds more like himself. He had always been Jin, but it's like he grew out of the mould he forced himself into when you last saw him; a more relaxed yet determined version of the past that no longer exists.

"Jin!" Lea calls out.

"That seems to be your favourite word today ..." Jin mutters, which causes Jimin to snort at his best friend's antics.

Risa slaps your brother on his shoulder and narrows her eyes at him, and it's comical how fast she managed to get him to neutralise his expression.

"For a very good reason," Lea retorts, "Could you hold _____ by the waist? The space between the two of you looks too awkward."

If only she knew.

This was possibly the situation that you wanted to avoid the most, not even acknowledging him yourself, or his name to say hello—but he had to hold you close like you were something to him.

"Shouldn't he be holding the maid of honour—?" You helplessly try to reason, but the words get stuck in your throat when Lea glares at you.

For someone younger than you, and smaller than you in height too—she was terrified when she had to be.

"It's ... fine," Jin says after a beat of silence.

Then, his hand snakes around your waist so snug as he pulls you slightly closer to him that you almost lose your footing.

You gulp, unable to ignore the heat of his grasp or the way that it feels so natural as he rests his palm loosely on your hips, fingers drumming against the bone absentmindedly as Lea directs the photographer with angles that she best believe captures the moment.

When the photographer begins the countdown, you force a smile as genuine as you can, while Jin squeezes your hips as the shutter goes off.

"You two looked comfy." Jimin slides into the seat next to you after the rehearsal, rubbing on his eye with a cotton pad to remove the makeup that was applied on him.

You scowl, swatting his hand away to berate him for causing wrinkles so early on as he huffs at your adamancy.

"Don't ignore me," He pokes your side as you sigh.

"Then don't overthink it, okay? It was for the picture." You grumble, eyes focused on the bits and bobs of makeup tools at the vanity inside the changing rooms.

You can feel Jimin's stare on you, as well as how hard he thinks. Call it a sibling intuition, but you knew exactly when he was overanalysing situations, and you felt that at this exact moment.

"You know you have to speak to him eventually, right?" Jimin says after a while.

You freeze, fingers pausing as you tap against the table. Your eyes meet Jimin's through the mirror and you know he's serious, his expression says it all. But he wasn't there when it happened, and he wasn't you to feel how it felt.

"I went for ten years without talking to him. Another ten won't be hard." You clip.

Jimin sighs, turning his body to face you as you keep your shoulders towards him. It feels very much like when you were younger when Jimin sat you down to lecture you about your behaviour, or reprimanding you for doing certain things to keep you safe.

But it's vastly different. You're twenty-eight now, and you no longer took Jimin's words as the word of God, and he knew that.

"I don't know what exactly what went down between the two of you but according to Jin—"

"And you don't need to. It's been ages, Jimin. I've moved on." You snap.

Jimin purses his lips, seeing the way you're beginning to draw up all your walls against him again. It makes his heart clench because there was a time where you would have told him everything, where you would have confided him when you were having troubles. But he knew he ruined that relationship himself, and even if it's been over a decade since that fight the two of you had, the scar of the experience would always be there to haunt you both.

He knew you didn't hold it against him anymore, but he also recognised the way you'd subtly pull away sometimes, the reason why you never visited as often as you said you would in your infrequent phone calls.

"I'm just ..." He mumbles, looking at you earnestly but you don't return the stare, "I'm worried, ______."

You scoff.

"You don't need to. I won't cause a scene at your wedding, okay? I—I'm not like that ..." You start off strong, but finish in a soft whisper.

Jimin's eyes soften when he reaches a hand to rest against your shoulder.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

"Whatever it is that you meant just ... forget it, okay? I'm a grown-up now. I'm not your baby sister anymore." You tell him.

He flinches at the bluntness of your words but knows that you don't mean any harm to them. It was the truth that he had a hard time accepting, especially when he could've been there for you more during the years of university and the beginning of your work-life.

"I ..." Jimin trails off.

You sigh, turning around to finally face him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," You wince, "It's just that ... you don't need to worry about my battles anymore, Jimin. I've learnt how to deal with them on my own and you have your own set of things to worry about. I'll always be your sister, and nothing will change that—but I'm just not the same, impressionable girl I was a decade ago."

Jimin bites his lip as he mulls over your words, a fact hard for him to accept but nevertheless, he must. He always had the tendency to be overprotective and possessive, whether it be of his relationships, activities or belongings—it was an ugly trait that got the best of him from time to time.

He knew deep down, that he played a part in why you and Jin are so sour with each other, and he can't easily get rid of that guilt.

"I know, I know," He exhales, "If that's the case then ..."

You raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

"Then?"

"Don't let me be the reason why you can't fight your battles," He tells you softly.

Your expression remains stoic, but you internally agree with what he says. You'd never blame Jimin, and you knew it was irrational to do so—but the ugly feeling of needing someone to blame that wasn't yourself or Jin was dominant in your conscious.

"I promise." You smile at him extending your pinky finger out, and he grins at the old ritual the two of you would do as kids.

"Good." He ruffles your hair, and you glare at him when he messes up your up-do that Isabelle spent a long time on.

"Dude!" You whine, but he snickers at your reaction.

"Ah, can't believe that I'm getting married in a week." He adds as he stares at the ceiling.

You smile to yourself and nod your head in agreement.

"Remember when you told me you were going to marry Hana?" You snort.

He grimaces, the memories of his college self resurfacing at the reminder of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"Thank God you snapped me out of it," He whistles lowly, "She was fucking insane."

You chuckle at that because Jimin sure had a type, and it was the insane girls with daddy issues. Even Risa was a little crazy but she had a good heart to make up for it.

"It seems to be a trend with you." You shrug your shoulders.

He narrows his eyes at you and flicks you on the forehead before he glances down at his watch to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I have a meeting at the office," He groans.

Your lips tilt upwards at his distraught as you pat him on the shoulder, gesturing him to leave.

"Don't worry. I'll find my way home."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jimin—I'm sure. Now leave before they find a new CEO." You quip teasingly.

He thanks you, and presses a kiss onto your forehead before he scampers off, grabbing at his coat before he's out the door.

Once he's out of the room, you sigh to yourself; suddenly oddly nostalgic at your childhood, up to teenage memories as you and Jimin were speaking about it.

You purse your lips, unable to get Jin out of your head even when you look back to all the fun times you had as a teenager because he's always been there ... until he wasn't.

You wince, remembering the day it happened so clearly.

The smell of burnt something pricks the air and you only have yourself to blame.

You curse when you see clouds of black smoke escaping the small vents of your oven, the shady proof of how horrible you were at baking even if it was for a cause that resonated deeply in your heart.

You were thankful that your mom wasn’t home to witness your blunder because she surely would have yapped your ear off for trusting your clumsy self in the kitchen, let alone baking a recipe that was far out of your skill range.

“Why does it smell like—_____, really?” Jimin’s voice enters your thoughts as he ascends down the stairs of your home to spot you hastily fanning the smoke away with your mittens.

“Can you shut up and help me?” You hiss.

He laughs, loud and clear as he clutches his stomach to control his body.

“Dude—why?” He wheezes.

You chuck one of the mittens at him when he finally enters the kitchen, body moving at its own accord to get the trash bin along with the mitten that you threw at him while he pushes your body aside.

“Jin’s leaving tomorrow so I thought I would make some of his favourite shortbreads …” You mutter.

Jimin gracefully plucks out the burnt batch of shortbread and chucks it into the waste bin as you pout at your efforts being thrown away.

“And you didn’t bother asking for help when you know he gets his shortbread’s from a bakery?” He deadpans.

You roll your eyes and wipe your hands on your apron as you sigh.

“Look—I wasn’t thinking and now I don’t have anything to give him before he leaves!” You pout.

Jimin eyes you suspiciously and raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter to observe your sullen expression.

“So? It’s not like he’d care.”

You glare at him.

“Well—I care.” You retort.

Jimin is silent for a moment before his eyes widen, his body inching closer to yours as if he found out something that he needed to tell you.

“Do you … do you like Jin?” Jimin gasps.

Your eyes widen, cheeks reddening simultaneously as you quickly shake your head to deny the fact—even though your heart and face betray you.

“W-What?” You squeak, “Of course not! It’s just a nice gesture to send him off.”

Jimin scoffs and narrows his eyes at you accusingly.

“Then why did you go out of your way to bake him something he likes when you know you’re hopeless in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, hoping your nonchalance plays off well enough to distract Jimin from the way your handshakes at the prospect of being caught.

“He’s my friend, Jimin. I do nice things for my friends sometimes.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t believe you, and you wish that for one moment he wouldn’t use his brain to overthink your words or the sibling telepathy he claims to have to unravel your heart’s true intentions.

“He’s my best friend. Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing all of …” He gestures to the mess of the kitchen you left it in, “… this?”

“Well you don’t own him and you definitely don’t pick who Jin’s friends with. So fuck off will you?” You snap.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you.

“He’s five years older than you.” He reminds you slowly.

You sigh, busying yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter.

“And? You’re two years older than me but you don’t see me condemning our sibling-ship.” You retort.

“That’s not what I meant,” He groans, “He doesn’t need a kid having a crush on him, okay? He’s off to university.”

The way Jimin uses the word ‘kid’ doesn’t sit well with you, as if to tell you that you were inferior to him and Jin because you were younger than him. But you weren’t far off, and heck, you’d argue that you were far more mature than your brother or any of his friends.

“I’m graduating high school this year.” You sneer.

“And Jin is off to university!” He exasperates.

“I don’t know what your problem is because I—don’t—have—a—crush—on—him!” You emphasise with a shove of your finger to his chest with every word.

“You better not because that’ll be weird. I don’t need my sister crushing on my best friend.” He scrunches his nose when he says that.

The drop of your heart is inevitable, but you’ve long decided that you don’t live your life to please Jimin anymore, and what you wanted what was what mattered.

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, chucking the last bit of your dishes into the sink before you glance over at the clock.

“Tell mom I’ll be out!” You say, throwing off your apron as you quickly check your appearance when you grab for your car keys.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.

You glare at him, slipping on your shoes as quickly as you possibly can before you call out to him, halfway out the door:

“Jin’s!”

“Oh, hey _____.” Jin is surprised when you turn up on his doorstep.

“Hey yourself,” You smile, stepping in after you’ve slipped your shoes off.

“What … what are you doing here?” He asks when the two of you make your way up to his room, after offering a greeting to his parents and brother in the kitchen.

You flop on to the beanbag at the corner of his room and give him a knowing stare.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You say.

He nods his head, understanding as he glances around his barren room, most of his belongings packed away in his luggage.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” He teases.

You scoff.

“I suppose.” You shrug, “There was supposed to be shortbread too but …”

He laughs, a sound that you’ve come to adore, even as a young girl you always thought Jin was the funniest person ever. When Jimin would argue that he was funnier, you’d always jump to defend Jin’s ability to make you laugh instead.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” He says to you, plopping down to sit across from you.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” You sigh, resting your head against the plushness of the beanbag.

Jin snorts.

“Why does it sound like I’m never coming back?” He jokes.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to be in a completely different time-zone. Two, flight tickets get super expensive during the holiday season’s so I doubt you’d be back. And three—you’d probably make cool university friends keep you company so that you wouldn’t wanna’ come back anyways.”

Jin looks at you, lips twitching upwards as you complain.

“You … you thought that through, huh?”

You roll your eyes, chucking a figurine in his direction.

“Just, promise to call?” You whisper.

He smiles softly at you and nods.

“Course’. I’ll ring Jimin up and we can all talk.”

You blink at his choice of words, afraid he’s misunderstood your point.

“I mean … you can call me …” You mutter.

Jin pauses for a moment, before catching himself and chuckling softly under his breath.

“Wouldn’t that be kind of weird …?”

His choice of words only reminds you of Jimin’s tone when he warned you against your apparent (but very present) crush on Jin.

“Why would it be weird?” You tilt your head to the side.

He snorts at your question and you frown because you don’t understand what aspect of it was funny at all.

“Come on, you’re Jimin’s baby sister. If I called you it would seem predatorial, won’t it? I’m literally five years older than you.”

You don’t think he means to sound condescending, but the tone of his words definitely come across that way. You bite your tongue to not say anything rash just yet, as you take a deep breath before you respond.

“We’re friends … and I turn eighteen in June.” You remind him about your birthday coming in two months.

He shrugs.

“Yes but it’s still weird. It would just seem like we’re together, you know?”

His words make you freeze, eyes widening at his implication.

“Would that be such a bad thing …?” You whisper, and the words leave your mouth before you can think twice.

Jin hears you loud and clear, and his eyes widen. You see his body tense and the way he shifts away from you ever-so-slightly that it makes your heart drop.

“_____ … I don’t …” He tries to navigate the topic, but your eyes are bored straight on his face and it flusters him.

“You’re a kid, _____. I don’t date kids.” He snaps, deciding to opt for a defensive approach.

The demeaning term sets you off as you feel anger bubble through your system in bursts of hotness.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” You snap, and his eyes widen at your tone.

“Woah, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You lash out, “I’m not some dumb or naive child that doesn’t know what’s right or wrong, okay? I’m turning eighteen this year—and I—I thought you were better than this. How could you be so shallow?”

Jin scoffs.

“Shallow? _____,” He deadpans, “You’re just turning eighteen and I’m twenty-three. That’s a whole five-year difference. I don’t think you’re dumb but the thought of dating you right after you turn eighteen is just …” He shudders.

You still.

You didn’t know Jin could hurt you so much with just words, but he did just that. He didn’t need to say much, but you felt every sting that came with his intentions.

“Who said anything about dating?” You ask hoarsely, “I just said to call me.”

Jin softens a little, turning to face you as he sighs.

“_____ … I know you have a crush on me and—”

You’re absolutely mortified when he exposes you out in the open like that, the truth left out for both of you to mull over; but even worse for you as you were the one that was on the plank.

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” You snap, embarrassment crawling up your neck as you avoid his gaze, attempting to deflect.

“—I don’t need you waiting for me when I’m off to university. I’ll be fucking around a lot and you don’t deserve that.”

You gape at him, stunned at his audacity.

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” You laugh, but there’s no humour in it.

“What? No—”

“Oh, you so do, Kim Seokjin,” You snarl, “Do you think I would wait for you? To live out some stupid fairytale? Yes—I have a crush on you but that’s all there is to it—a fucking crush!” You yell.

His eyes widen, attempting to reach out for you to calm you down, but you shift away.

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage but just for a fucking phone call. I’m not even asking you to like me back!” You throw your hands into the air.

“But you’re implying it! Why else would I call some girl that I’m only friends with cause' of her brother if I didn’t like her?”

That’s all it takes for silence to overtake the both of you, your mouth stunned shut as your eyes widen at his words.

“What?” You choke.

It’s like Jin is blinded by the need to defend himself, a carnal desire to protect his own heart to make him feel less like a weirdo about the way his best friend’s little sister makes him feel. An odd feeling he never wanted to acknowledge until he acknowledged you.

“I mean exactly what I said, ____,” He spits so vehemently that he doesn’t recognise himself, “All you do is follow us around like some helpless puppy because of what—your crush on me? Get over it because I’ll never like you.”

You freeze, and your heart does too.

“Do you think I willingly talk to you? It’s because of Jimin! You’re his baby sister. What else could I do? Tell you to fuck off?” He snaps.

Your lip trembles but you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Not this boy who thinks of you that way, as someone’s baby sister rather than who you were.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” You say, oddly calm, but your glassy eyes are what snaps Jin out of it.

“Wait … ____,” He sighs.

“I’ll fuck off myself, all right?” You grit, pushing yourself off the beanbag before you’re storming out of his room.

Jin doesn’t bother chasing after you because he’s mulling over his words, absolutely disgusted with what he said. His parents and brother miss you when you’re out the door crying.

Jimin doesn’t even ask how you were.

“Oh—”

It’s like he’s always there at your most vulnerable moments.

Jin is hovering by the entrance of the changing room awkwardly, his limbs too long for the tight space.

He startles you out of your reminiscent state as you clutch the robe to your chest, acutely aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your bra and underwear underneath it.

You flush, avoiding his eyes, afraid that if you looked at them; all you would remember is what he said to you.

“It’s fine,” You parrot the words he said to you earlier, and quickly pack your belongings, and casual clothes into a bag to make your way out back into your hotel room.

As you brush past him, he stops you with his voice.

“______.”

You freeze, hands still tightly gripping your robe as you feel his eyes rake over your body. You feel both exposed and safe, because once upon a time—Jin was the person that could comfort you the most.

“Yes?” You say in a clipped tone.

You hear him sigh, and you’re about to leave until he interrupts you again.

“How are you?”

You nearly scoff at the mediocre question he poses when the situation between the two of you is anything but. The question seems so out of place when the room is so tense, the ghost of his words here to haunt you both.

“Good.” Is all you respond with before you try to leave.

He grabs you by the elbow, gently, but enough for you to fall against his chest, his arms reaching around to grab you before you fall.

The opening to your robe falls a bit, and his eyes dart away out of respect as you quickly shove it closed with reddened ears.

“What do you want?” You snap.

He winces at your hostility but doesn’t blame you for it.

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” He shrugs.

Now, you scoff. It’s because Jin is still so irrevocably him, that in any other circumstance you’d smile in fondness at his ability to make any situation simple as if there wasn’t history between the two of you.

“Do you now?” You say blandly, “What do you want to know? I’m still Jimin’s baby sister if you were wondering.” You say bitterly.

Jin freezes and sighs when you bring it up; alluding to what he said to you that night years ago.

“Actually … I wanted to apologise,” He confesses.

At that, you still.

Apologise?

Did you need an apology? Wasn’t that what usually fixed conflict?

But no, an apology wasn’t going to fix the years of insecurity that you were left with when he was gone, always nitpicking at your flaws and your identity; wondering if it were really only an extension of your older brother.

Even though you were older, and somewhat more rational—there was still a part of you that wanted to blame Jin for your insecurities, even though you knew that was a war between you and yourself.

“For what? Calling me an extension of my brother or that our friendship was to please Jimin?” You snarl.

He winces and releases the hold he has on your elbow as he rubs his hand across his face.

“I was young and—”

You scoff.

“Young? I thought you were too old back then? Where was this energy ten years ago?”

His eyes narrow at you, and he noticed that you definitely grew a backbone—and a mouth. It was inappropriate still, to think of you any other way right now when he was attempting to apologise to you.

But your beauty was dangerous, and you’ve always been a pretty thing; even when you were growing up. The truth he uttered a decade ago was somewhat the truth still, he felt way too … old to be with you, even if his heart begged for him to keep you close.

“I don’t know why I said the things I did, _____.” He sighs.

You turn around, face contorted with every emotion you’ve been withholding since that fateful night.

“Let me tell you then,” You shove a finger into his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” You spit, hoping to hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.

His eyes widen when you lean in closer.

“You liked me too and you had no fucking clue what to do about it, so you pushed me away the one night I asked for a small favour. You wanted to protect yourself because you’re too in your head thinking that your feelings matter more than anyone else’s, am I right Jin?”

“_______ …”

“Shut up,” You snap.

He does, and he sees the fire in your eyes burn brighter.

“You thought you were the only one that was struggling with their emotions but guesses what—you weren’t,” You whisper, “I was too. And I pushed it aside every moment I spent with you because I knew that it wasn’t my position to decide for you if you liked me or not.”

His hand reaches out to cup your face, something instinctual inside of him told him to do so—wanting to hold you close. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. Your features soften, but you haven’t done your piece just yet.

“But you … you decided for me.” You say softly, “You showed me how much of a piece of shit you were that night.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and the words hurt—but nothing compared to how he felt when you blocked him everywhere, even to go as far to tell Jimin to never mention your name to him.

It sucked for the first two years, but eventually as you went to college and university, you unblocked him. Was it out of spite to let him see how well you were doing? Or the boyfriend that you had?

Maybe.

“_____, I’m sorry.”

Here he was, at thirty-four years old, apologising to you much like a man would—and you can’t help but admire his face when you lean in, heart willing yourself to act rather than your rationale.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” You say.

It seems that you shock him more and more with each second that passes. You weren’t the same girl you were a decade ago, but yet traces of you still lingered in your features, your smile, your voice and your words. It was just you, but older.

“It was for me.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in understanding, cupping your jaw.

“You have no idea how much I regret that night, ______.” He whispers.

You purse your lips.

“What will regret bring you, Jin? A do-over?”

This time he goes silent to observe your face. It’s no longer the same cold stare you’ve been giving him the entire day or the fact that you’ve been ignoring his presence until he found you tucked away in the changing room—a tip-off from Jimin.

“No but … you’re right,” He tells you, “I wanted to protect myself and it was selfish. I can’t change what I said or did but I’m here now and—my heart is still the same.”

“Ten years change people, Jin. I’ve changed and so did you. Maybe you liked the girl I was when I was eighteen but I’m nowhere near in the same mind-space I was back then.” You tell him.

Even though your own heart betrays you by beating rapidly against your chests the closer the holds you, you knew that acting out of your rationale would only end up with you being hurt yet again. You forgave Jin … sure you did. But ten years was far too long to accept the fact he may feel the same.

“I know but I couldn’t forget you, not when I was in university and not when I started working.” He confesses, eyes burning into your own.

You purse your lips and stand your ground. A hand reaches to clasp his, slowly pushing it away from your face as you sigh. You notice the crestfallen expression on his face, but you don’t comment on it.

“I forgave you but that doesn’t mean I forgot what you said to me that night …” You tell him, “I know I was young and that you aren’t responsible for my insecurities but you told me every single thing that I was terrified of.”

His eyes soften but ensuring he kept his distance when you slightly pull away.

“_____—” He sighs.

“No, Jin,” You tell him firmly, “You were the person that mended Jimin and I’s relationship so you knew how much it ruined me to believe that I was nothing but a product of his aspirations. That I had nothing for myself but who my brother was. I struggled so much to find my footing as a teenager and I didn’t even know what I liked and didn’t like it because the lines were so blurred between my own interests and Jimin’s.”

Suddenly, he sees a little glimpse of the girl when you were eighteen peakings through your exterior. You still sounded a little unsure of yourself, words shaking ever so slightly.

“And for the person to tell me that I was more than just Park Jimin’s sister to … to …” You swallow, the words stuck in your throat because as much as forgiving Jin was for him as it was to you, the words still haunt your mind.

“To say that I was just an extension of my brother?” You whisper, “I didn’t know who I was then but I lost who I tried to be when you said that.”

Jin bites his lip, feeling awful. But he knew that he had no right to feel like he was the one that was hurt when his words plagued your mind for years.

“Whatever your feelings are at this moment …” You trail off, clutching your belongings to your chest, ready to leave without another glance, “They’re just your guilt telling you to hold on to something you didn’t get closure with.”

You look over at him once more, a solemn expression on your face.

“This is your closure, Jin.”

You leave without sparing him another glance, and the man stands in the empty changing room feeling a lot different. He thought he’d amended things, but when you leave, it feels as bad as it had been ten years ago.

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milqueandsugar · 4 years ago

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🏵 Where The Sun Meets The Sea 🏵

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping/captivity , mentions of injury/violence

Pt: I

| Feeding Time |

Emeralds clattered against the wood counter top, followed by the wet slap of a small load of fish being dropped along side the currency. "This is it?" The piglin asked, irritation practically dripping from his words as he gestured to the goods with clawed hands. "I'm.. I'm sorry sir but you're clearing out my stock faster then I can replenish" a meek voice cut through the tension. The older shopkeeper's eyes couldn't focus on just the unhappy piglin in front of him or the even less happier polar bear nosing around his shop. "I'd get to working on that then" Technoblared snarled, eye brows furrowed and movements hasty as he grabbed the net from the counter and gave the polar bears leash a soft tug.

Getting up early in the morning to retrieve Steve his breakfast had become part of Technobalde's routine. He swore to himself that he would take as much care of Steve as he did the piglin, and he stuck true to that promise no matter what. Even if that meant fishing for a couple hours because some fishermen got lazy. With his new suppourt animal came more frequent visits to the nearby village, as much as he valued the villagers who worked for him in his own home, it was much cheaper to just go to the local butcher.

Soon visits to the butcher became visits to the market, then the other shops, then the library. Although incomparable to his own, he lacked the self published one off works from the villagers. Some of his new favourite books were from that very library, although they never held an authors name, which made them hard to find anywhere else. Maybe it was the odd conditions the book were published which made him pick it up at first, but that didn’t really matter did it? What did matter was the friendship that came along with his frequent visits.

The librarian was a kind woman, though a bit nosy for his taste. No matter the length of his visit he could always count on being filled in on the towns local drama. New borns, weddings, scandals, the local cryptids. Even if the woman herself wasn’t quite his type he could certainly appreciate her stories. Although he was certain they had to be embellished a bit.

Coming up to the porch of the creaky building Technoblade tied the polar bear to the fence, dropping the load of fish to keep him preoccupied while he was gone. Stepping into the stuffy warmth of the library his nose wrinkled a bit as the smell of ciagrette smoke wafted through the air. It seemed the smell of smoke and mold had practically embedded itself into the very walls of the structure. Rather unpleasant but fitting for the place. Black eyes quickly caught sight of movement to his left, turning to give a curt nod to the woman behind the desk he quickly approached, heels clicking against the polished floors. “Technoblade! Bit early aren’t ya? It’s just passed eight” The woman declared, flipping closed what looked to be a romance book.

“The wind woke me, I’m guessing it did you as well” Technoblade hummed, pulling out a stool to sit in front of the brunette. Her gray eyes rolled to the left, a small smile tugging at her lips as she swatted at him. “It’s rude to tell a lady she looks tired, do you know no manners?” She scolded, snuffing out her cigarette in a small tray. “It’s unethical to be smoking during buisness hours, I may be ill mannered but at least I would keep my job” He snapped back, a smile begining to form on his own lips as Iris hesitated. “Oh? So you do work then?” She hummed, leaning forward to rest her arms on the desk.

Ever since he had met the lady she was infatuated with him, maybe it was because he was a piglin, or because he didn’t tell her anything. Either way she was obsessed with knowing anything she possibly could. She would dig her talons into the smallest of comments, there wasn’t much use hiding anything from Iris, it was only a matter of time before she found out eventually.

“Anything to share today?” Technoblade quickly changed the topic, taking notice of the way Iris’s eyes narrowed. After a few seconds it seemed she had given up, leaning back in her rocking chair and kicking her feet onto the counter. Seemed today she was too tired to put up a fight about this, or she was unsure of her suspicions. “Well, I didn’t bring this up cause I thought it was a one time thing but..” Pausing for dramatics Iris continued her tale. “A couple of Fishermen have gone missing, given the weather everyone thought they either got lost or came across a polar bear. But! Some of the school kids were out playing by the water and they came across one of them” She exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke.

“Dead?”

“Dead as a doornail, they found the rest of their bodies too, apparently they’ve just been walking into the ocean by the looks of it. But here’s the kicker, they were always found in the same place and far from the water, on the shore yeah but the waves wouldn’t wash them up that far. The men have been talking, and from what I hear there’s a witch down there, drowning the fishermen” Iris thought aloud, letting her feet fall from the desk as she leaned forward. “You know what I think?” She asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I’m thinking Sirens”

Technoblade rose a brow, interest piqued by the gossip to say the least. “Sirens? They lore sailors too sea not fishermen” He corrected, rising to his feet. “Fishermen, sailors, who cares! All I know is that a lot of people have died this week, and if you’re going fishing like I think you are” Isis gestured toward the fishing rod held tight in his clawed hands. “Then you should be careful” She warned, her voice lowering a bit.

Technoblade shook his head, a scoff escaping him as he fixed his jacket to leave. “I will Iris, take care yourself” He mumbled a soft farewell before quickly leaving the library, knowing better then to let Iris continue with her stories. Untying Steve from the post he clambered a top the bear, pulling the reins tight as they started off towards the ocean.

Sirens, huh?

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #dsmp imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #technoblade x you #blood for the blood god #technoblade x reader #technoblade x y/n #techno x reader #philza x you #philza x y/n #philza x reader #where the sun meets the sea

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dancingazaleas · 4 years ago

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miche zacharias | beauty & the beast

this is for @izukine ‘s ‘fairy tale and mythical creatures’ collab! love you so much liyah <333

tagging: @yeagerslut @xenihime @fiaficsxo @mitsuluv @sukunas-lady @onyxoverride @rintarouss (cus ur a miche fucker. sorry for not warning u abt the tag)

edit: this is unedited, i’m so sorry for any typos.

warnings/tags: cursing, eventual smut, smut, nsfw, romantic sex, size kink(i guess if u squint?), fingering, oral sex/cunnilingus, missionary sex, vanilla

miche was always just a little bigger than anyone around him. he stood like a skyscraper at 6’5, towering over all of his peers. he was more broad one would be at the chest, a tailor once said his bust was around 150 centimeters.

miche was seen as an absolute beast because of this. and it didn’t help that miche’s hair was shaggy, stubble coating his upper lip and jaw, and he had a sniffing problem. he thinks the nose is really what sold everyone.

and in effect, miche was feared. feared by the people in his village, and sometimes even by his own friends. the dark and looming castle he lives in was where he forced to, along with his companions that stood up for the meek man that they called a beast.

the village often sent people who they’ve decided to shun to his estate, expecting for the beast to kill them in cold blood.

in reality, he just sent them to the next village over. he didn’t feel like being disturbed.

it was nothing different when he saw you running to him, tears falling from your pretty eyes while consistently looking over your shoulder. behind you, he noticed a crowd with pitchforks along with torches, screaming for you to get back here to burn you at the stake.

“help!” you cry, “help!”

you stumbled over your own feet, hands clamping down onto his clothed biceps and sobbing while looking at him.

“the next village over is—“

“no! sir, no matter where i go,” you shake your head rapidly, “i will be hunted. hunted for reading the books!”

you looked so desperate clinging onto him, eyes flashing when you cry once more, “you’re the only one who can help me!”

he looks back to the crowd that nears the gates of his home, silently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest. the crowd skids to a stop, especially when miche steps forward and manages to yank a pitchfork from their hands.

“this girl is with me,” he announces, jabbing at the air to back them up, “leave now or die.”

the crowd gapes at the sight of you gathered to his chest, but backs off nonetheless. there was nothing they could do against the man that they call a beast.

miche leads you into his home, introducing you to friendly faces that were spread across the house.

“what happened?! did you get rid of the—whoa-ho-ho! who’s this beauty, michey,” someone with messy brown hair exclaims, eyepatch covering their left eye.

“hanji! quit being so disrespectful,” a man follows behind them, tugging them by their shoulders from behind.

“this young maiden was followed by a mob. she read the forbidden books, based off of her words she’s said to me. they planned on hunting her down even if she goes to the next village over,” he leads you past them to a bathroom.

“that’s saddening,” a baritone voice said, the frown evident in his voice, “she's staying with us i’m assuming?”

if his voice wasn’t enough to make you feel small, his looks definitely were. a blond man with bushy eyebrows and a prosthetic arm stood in front of you with something that you can say was a gentle smile. behind him lingered a shorter man, bags hanging from his eyes, one of which had a scar running through it and down to his lip.

“no shit, erwin. miche isn’t heartless,” the crude words make you crack a smile.

miche ignores their comments, “where’s nanaba? she needs a bath and i don’t fully trust her to be alone.”

“what am i needed for,” a feminine person waltzes into the room, a light look on her face.

“this young maiden needs to be bathed with a loose eye on them,” nanaba gently takes your hands into their own.

“what?! why couldn’t i do it?!”

“because you can barely bathe yourself, shitty glasses,” levi grunts and sits on a plush couch in front of the warm fire. you notice he has two prosthetic fingers.

nanaba leads you away before you can hear hanji’s response. you open your mouth to ask a question, but find yourself stuck on what to address nanaba as.

“you can address me as whatever makes you comfortable,” you find that she’s peering at you from over her shoulder.

“oh! i’m so sorry,” you sniffle.

“don’t worry about it, you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. now, what was on your mind?”

“that man… miche, i think the townspeople called him, he’s really kind. he saved me from being burned,” you murmur loud enough for her to hear, “why?”

nanaba took you into a bathroom room and shut the door behind her, “i can’t say i know. the last person he took in was levi, and it wasn’t exactly his choice, more of erwin’s. i think he smells something in you.”

“that’s right, the townspeople wrote that he had the nose of a dog.”

“he does. he’s usually able to tell if someone is good or not just by their scent,” she turns on the bath, “i think he likes you.”

you deny her statement with a laugh, fanning your hand just before you get undressed. you doubt that a beast such as himself could like someone like you.

————

months passed, and as the days went on you found yourself falling in love with miche. the same man who used ‘beauty’ as a nickname for you would bathe in how you’d give a bashful and swat his arm.

truly, he was more like a bear. big and scary, but also cuddly—as much as a bear could really be—and soft. miche had a heart of gold, that much was obvious when he started to wear it on his sleeve.

he cherished his time with you, even if others were around and he wanted you to himself. he loves the wandering gazes you give when you sit under the wisteria tree in his garden. the look of curiosity that brightens your face, eyes wide and staring at the world he used to think was cruel.

miche tried not to be a sap. he hadn’t ever since he was born, and he didn’t want to start now. but he couldn’t help it.

if the world that shamed him and hurt him was able to create such a kind yet sarcastic beauty, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

but he was scared of hurting you. in more ways than one. mentally, miche was a quiet and seemingly unaffectionate person, even with someone he loved. miche also had a tendency to be blunt at times, and it has made you upset on multiple occasions.

physically, however, miche’s terrified of being with you just because of it. as you’ve observed, miche isn’t exactly small..

but you practically make him feel as such.

especially right now as you crack jokes with him and teaching him how to waltz. it doesn’t help that you’re leading the dance and that he was stumbling over your feet.

“miche, step this way with me,” you’re incredibly patient.

“i’m scared i’ll step on your foot,” you give him a stare.

“you already have,” you laugh, “it’s okay if you step on my foot, you’ll get the hang of it.”

eventually, he’s able to synchronize his steps with your’s. you trade off the leadership to him, hands on his shoulders. he fumbles a lot more than before, leading to you fumbling over him as well. your shoe presses into his own, and you wince for him while muttering an apology. he’s about to tell you it’s fine, but before he can, he’s stepped on your dress. you yelp and instinctively cling onto miche as you fall onto miche’s bed, dragging him with you.

his arm is immediately at the small of your back and his other hand manages to hold himself up. you flop back onto the mattress when he takes his arm away, cheeks flushed red as he stared down at you.

you look so pretty under him, hair spread beneath you and hands laying next to your head palms up. your pretty lips are parted and your eyes are wide and fluttering.

when he realizes he’s staring, he starts to get ready to get off of you.

“wait!” you gently hold his biceps, stopping his once abrupt movement.

your arms reluctantly and slowly wrap around his neck, eyes darting continuously to his face and to your arms. miche’s breath gets caught in his chest when you pull his face closer to your’s.

“miche… can i kiss you,” you whisper, breath tickling his skin.

miche’s too afraid to speak, so he nods.

your lips start to tingling whenever they’re connected to miche’s heat embarrassingly shooting through your body and to your tummy.

when he pulls away, you accidentally let out a whimper and rub your thighs together. miche’s face lights up again at how needy you look underneath him.

he kisses you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and leaning his weight onto them. he subtly shimmies your body up the mattress, tongue poking at the inside of your mouth. it elicits a soft moan from you, the noise shooting sparks straight to miche’s cock.

“love you,” he sighs with his lips trailing down your neck, large hands shyly starting to grope at your chest.

“love you too,” you bite your lip, watching him undo the buttons at the front of your shirt.

“is this all okay,” his lips tickle your skin as he drags them across the skin of your collarbones.

“yes… yes,” you mumble, slipping out of the shirt and your bra and throwing it somewhere across miche’s room.

miche nibbles at the skin on your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples. you sigh dreamily, hips wiggling from where they lay on the bed. he kisses down your tummy and slips the skirt you’re wearing off of your body.

you’re wearing plain white panties, embarrassment hitting you like a truck. miche doesn’t seem to care at all though, just slips them down your leg and throws them somewhere in his room.

you put a hand on your chest when he spreads your legs, trying to regulate your almost erratic breathing. you couldn’t believe that this was even happening.

soft pecks tickle your calf, slowly trailing up to your thigh and to the trimmed hair of your labia. breaths grow heavy when his tongue hesitantly prods at clit, fingers digging themselves into the wild sheets of his bed.

after seeing your small flinches, miche closes his lips around the bud. you immediately throw your head back as he starts to suck and lick at it, electricity shooting down to your toes that are curled over his shoulders.

he slips a large finger into you, bending it with caution. you buck your hips with a throaty moan, sealing your eyes closed when miche picked up the velocity of his pace.

unlike with waltzing, miche was getting the hang of it fast. so fast that he’s already slipping a second finger into you, thrusting it at a teasing pace that wouldn’t be able to get you off.

you cry out, the scent of pleasure coating your entire body. it has miche groaning against your clit, a loud and desperate moan being let out in response.

miche’s slipping in a third finger, continuously thrusting in and out whilst curling them.

“miche! miche!” you let a hand get tangled in his hair, gently tugging as if you were trying to rut against his face.

“gonna cum—oh my god! i’m gonna cum,” you whine breathlessly and miche continues at his pace.

you cum seconds later, legs trembling from where they lay over his shoulders. he pulls away and immediately wipes away your juices off of his face with the back of his hand, immediately rewarding you with a sweet and passionate kiss on your lips. you whimper against his rough lips, fingers tugging at the shirt he still had on.

he chuckles when he pulls away, hastily taking off his seemingly elegant clothing and throwing the sheets over your bodies.

miche knew it was going to make you both hot. and miche knew he was paranoid of anyone walking in, even though he knew that everyone wouldn’t bother him. but still, the sheets acted as a shield from the world.

this time was only for the two of you, no one else.

his hand pumps his cock whenever he starts to guide it to your stretched out slit. you don’t exactly realize just how big miche actually is until the head of his cock is pushing into you.

the sting that shoots through your body is immediate, and you immediately cling onto his back. you bite your lip whenever he keeps slipping himself in, pausing when you’ve managed to get a quarter of his cock inside of you.

you pant as tears prick the corner of your eyes, trying to relax your obviously tense body as miche tries to distract you with soft and gentle kisses. he whispers how good you're doing, even rubbing circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb to help loosen the tension.

when you calm down and tell him that you're ready, he continues to slip into you with slowed movements. the stretch is more painful than before and as he slides deeper and deeper into you, you feel like his cock gets bigger with each inch. you stop him again, taking deep breaths and telling yourself that you can do it. you only had a few more inches left, then you would feel good.

when he finally bottoms out, your breath leaves your chest. it feels like he’s in your throat and the intense feeling makes you cry again.

“so full, ‘m so full miche,” you whimper while he wipes away the tears from your face.

“i know, love, it’ll feel good soon,” his voice soothes you.

when you calm down again, the realization at how every part of miche’s cock reaches you comes down upon you.

“m-move, please, move,” carefully wrapping your legs around his waist, you whisper in his ear.

his thrusts start off slowly and deep, moans falling from your lips each time he bottoms out and the tip of his cock hits your cervix. when he realizes that you’re alright, he speeds up his pace.

the way he ruts into you makes you produce a broken scream, scratching at his back and throwing your head back. you’re already starting to feel that certain knot in your tummy again, and you wanted to try to hold it back but the orgasm crashes into you unexpectedly.

you sound so broken underneath him, digging your nails into his skin and squeezing him close to you.

“fuck! thank you, thank you,” you sob, “love you, love your cock.”

he grunts in response, ignoring how your walls suffocate him. he doesn’t help you ride out the orgasm, only speeding up his pace to chase after his own orgasm.

you whine at the sound of his skin slapping against your’s, heat spreading down to your chest. you’re going to come again with the way miche jackhammers into you desperately.

“miche, miche! fuck—please!” your vision whites out as your body thrashes under miche’s hold.

miche can’t ignore how hard your walls grip onto his cock, groans spilling out of his mouth as his orgasm creeps over him.

he orgasms with a breathy grunt, grinding his hips into yours and pumping his cum into you.

when he comes down from the euphoric high, he kisses your lips. your eyelids are heavy after miche pulls his softening cock out of you.

“love you,” he mumbles against your skin after he’s fetched a wet rag and cleaned you up.

you hum in response, too tired and weak to even reciprocate with words. luckily, he knows what you were trying to say. he pulls you into his warm chest, a soft and satisfied hum falling from your lips.

you drift off with his hand rubbing your back. the last thing you remember thinking was that miche was definitely a beast in some aspects.

#izukine’s 500 event <3 #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #sorrels.moots🌷#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #miche x reader #miche aot #miche zacharias #mike x reader #mike aot #mike zacharias

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

innocence - 23

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, smut (18+)

A/N: i got pizza and wrote a fanfic. yay for no procrastination for today! hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

- The newly come actress, 25, and the former Winter Soldier appeared cosy as they enjoyed a shopping trip in Brooklyn. Sources close to the couple have claimed the two have been enjoying a private relationship despite Mr. Barnes current employment as her personal bodyguard.

Bucky watched speechless as photos of him and Y/N were plastered all over his television screen. He wanted to say something to her, he really did, he wanted to tell her he didn’t hate her. How could he hate her? But he was much too lost in his own mind as he understood the consequences of this being public. He knew what people thought of him, they told him all the time during press conferences or through hate letters and he deserved all the hate they gave him but she didn’t. Y/N did not deserve to receive even a sliver of hate thrown at him just because she somehow and for reasons he didn’t really understand, ended up falling in love with him.

No, Bucky can deal with the hate. He hates himself so no one could ever hurt him, no one hates him more than himself. Y/N can’t deal with hate. She didn’t even need to tell him that, he could see it and he wouldn’t want to be the reason as to why it was directed to her. Yet she stood there, awaiting for him to say anything.

She could hear her heart beating in her ears, pulling onto the hem of her cardigan as she waited for him to say something, do something, but Bucky was almost like in a frozen state and she wished she knew what was going on through his head.

- Buck? - her voice came out low, low enough it would not be heard for anyone other than a super soldier. He however listened to it, snapping him out of the overdrive of his thoughts to get up from the coach and walk up to the woman standing in the entry of his bedroom. - I’m sorry but I ...

He interrupted her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close to him. Her head was tucked under his chin, chest against his close enough he could feel her heart beat against his ribs. Bucky knew, he knew what people thought of him, those people would follow him when he went to shops, call him out even scream at him and he deserved it. He deserved every ounce of hate he got but Y/N didn’t. She was good, wide-eyed, awfully innocent in a world which was bound to eventually let it drop onto her shoulders, crushing whatever good was left. It wouldn’t help to be associated with him.

- I had to do it. - she mumbled against the fabric of his shirt. - I won’t be caught dead letting someone tell me who I should date or shouldn’t.

- Do you wanna tell me what happened? - his voice was soft, hand stroking her hair while the other one rest on the small of her back, keeping her close to him.

- It was either this or a PR relationship. - she continued with her mumbling. Y/N didn’t know hat she was embarrassed about, yesterday she was so confident about everything but seeing Bucky made her feel guilty. - I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to do that to you.

- It’s okay, princess. You did what you thought was rig ... - Bucky didn’t even got to finish his sentence as her phone started to ring frantically. She looked at it defeated, leaving his embrace to grab her phone from the nightstand. Of course it was who she thought she was and before she could answer it, Bucky took the phone from her hand, turning it off. - You don’t need to answer every time they call you, specially now.

- They’re already upset at me and they’ll be even more upset if I don’t answer.

- You don’t have to answer. If they have any problems, I’ll handle them. Okay?

- Bucky, I already dragged you into this mess, I don’t want to make it worse for you.

- Listen ... - he pulled her into a hug once again. - If dealt with bigger assholes than your agency and I couldn’t care less about what they think. What I do care if you’re alright and right now you don’t need to speak to them. Okay?

- Okay. - she leaned her head against his shoulder. - I’m so sorry, Bucky. I really am.

- Princess, I don’t want you to have to listen to what I listen on a day to day basis. I adore you, the fact that other people know that doesn’t bother me.

- Well, I don’t believe what people tell you. - her hands delicately grabbed his jumper, leaning upward to kiss him. Bucky took advantage of his, his hand climbing up to her cheek, cupping her face as he deepened the kiss.

James adored kissing her. She was almost always shy, never really intending for a more intense kiss but melting whenever he initiated it. He wrapped her legs around his waist, walking inside his bedroom and forgetting whatever the reporter was talking about him and her. Sitting her down on their bed, Buck pulled her pyjama shirt over her head, returning to kiss her once her top was bare. His free hand pulled her trousers down, hand coming over to cup her mound. Her forehead leaned against his, eyes glued onto his baby blue ones before he kissed her forehead.

- Lay down, princess. - he kissed her once more, hands softly pushing her down onto the mattress. Y/N pulled her hair up as if she was doing a crutch before crossing her legs. - Don’t get shy on me, princess.

- What are you gonna do? - she questioned, her shyness flowing into her voice which made it sound more meek than it usually did. Bucky smirked at that, not being able to help himself at not being amused by her innocence. He leaned down to kiss her neck, lowering to her collarbones.

- I’m gonna go down on you, princess. - he grabbed her legs putting them over his shoulders, taking her by surprise. - Do you trust me?

- More than anyone. - she watched his head disappear between her legs, the feeling of his scruff against her thighs. She focused on that feeling rather that the nervousness. Now, had she been told a year ago that nothing would feel better than the scruff of the man she loved against her thighs, she would’ve seriously doubt it yet here she was.

He was almost seemed to know how well it felt as he nuzzled his face against the soft skin of her thighs, laying a trail of wet kisses along the inside of it. She buried her head against the mattress, lips slightly open as small noises rose up through the air. His kisses stopped and before she could even complain about the lack of contact, he licked a stripe from her hole to clit, his tongue wide and textured having her almost shiver at the new sensation, legs almost closed had it not been by his head between them.

Her eyes were glued to the white ceiling, feeling the colour itself engulf her as he took another lick, waiting another few seconds before delivering another one and one one until all she could do was moan like a common pornographic actress lost in the mere pleasure of erotic touch. She let herself drown into it as he stopped his motions, instead laying all his attention on her clit, lapping and sucking at it like a starved man.

She bunched the sheets on her hand, turning her head to the side, whining at the feeling his mouth caused her. He loved those whimpers and moans, tongue massaging her clit as he waited to drink more of those noises. She felt her clit throb, sensitive to his actions as tears streamed down her face and onto the sheets, the colour white of the ceiling seeming to explode and take her with it, breathe knocked out of her as her cherry lips let out a tired, exalted moan. Bucky dropped her legs onto the mattress, her head tiredly lifting to see the absolute debauched state he was in, with her juices glistening on his skin.

He laid down to kiss her, her taste laying on his lips now mixed with hers. Her hands rest onto the nape of his neck, feet pulling his pyjama trousers down. He smirked through the kiss, watching her mischievous, sparkling eyes, a far cry from the nervous ones in the beginning. He teased her, running his cock through her folds, whines of desperation returning to fill the room until he stilled. He growled watching her messed state as he pushed into her, knocking both their breathes out.

- Fuck, princess. - his hands were on each side of her head, holding himself up as he accustomed himself to her tightness and warmth which was enough to almost throw him off the edge if he didn’t take a moment to collect himself. - Tell me you’re mine.

- I’m yours. - her soft look didn’t seem to leave her no matter how debauched she looked. It was always there, like a warm blanket. - I’m yours until you don’t want me anymore.

- Don’t you say that. - he started thrusting in and out of her, the pace bringing back the whines and moans he so wanted to hear. No, Bucky would never not want her. - You’re mine. F-fuck princess, you are.

The pace only quickened, her hand coming to wrap around his wrist as he lulled her back into another pleasure filled state, the sounds of slapping skin and moans echoing in his room. He could feel her milk him, her walls contracting around him with a vice and if that wasn’t enough, her low, meek moans and his name coming out of her lips. Bucky couldn’t hold himself anymore and allowed the control to slip away, his cum coating her walls as his upper body strength softened, falling onto her side and pulling her with him.

Y/N looked up at him, a little smile on her face as she kissed his nose, nuzzling against his chest as he softened inside of her.

- I’m sorry. - she apologised once more.

- How many times more are you gonna apologise?

- Well, I can apologise in several other languages.

- I can tell you to stop apologising in several other languages.

- That’s not fair, you were the Winter Soldier, you can probably speak more languages than me. - she giggled, playfully hitting his chest. Bucky merely rolled his eyes, kissing the top of her head.

The two stayed in bed, hearing to the sound their own breathing made as they went down their high. The calm was interrupting by Bucky’s own phone ringing. He extended his arm, careful as to not take her off him, and took his phone in hand, looking at the phone number. Ms. Olson. Of course.

- They’re gonna keep calling. - Y/N added, raising her head from his chest.

- I think i’m more persistent at ignoring them. - he took the SIM card off his phone, putting it in his drawer and turning on his side so the only thing he saw was her. - You rebelled against them, now stick with it.

- I have to be on set tomorrow, they’re gonna eat me alive.

- They’ll have to go pass me, first.

She stared at him for a while, looking for any sort of playfulness, teasing even in the watery blue of his eyes but there was nothing but determination. Those were the eyes she saw whenever she went to the museum, target focused and determined yet what warmed her heart was that the determination was to defend her.

- James?

- Hum?

- Will you come home with me for Christmas?

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir

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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years ago

Text

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 6

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Just some swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar @sleep-is-all-i-seek (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A/N: No smut in this chapter, sorry :)

You woke to someone whistling, and looking over you saw Johnny packing his suitcase. When he saw movement from you he sighed dramatically.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” he said sarcastically, “come on and pack up, Y/N, time to head home.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, feeling amazingly well-rested. You were in the middle of piecing together what happened the night before when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom. He saw that you were awake, but then averted his eyes.

“I’ll go pack up the car,” he said quickly, grabbing Johnny’s suitcase right out of his hands, picking up his own on the way by, and sprinting out the door. Johnny looked at his retreating figure quizzically.

“What’s up with him?” he wondered, and then it hit you. The hazy events of the night before started to come back to you, but in flashes, like an erotic movie on fast forward. You felt the blush creep up your neck and onto your face, mortification the weakest description for what you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath. What the fuck is wrong with you, you reprimanded yourself. You covered your face with both your hands, wondering if you could spend the rest of the trip like that and not have anyone question it.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Johnny called, walking out the door. You got out of bed and quickly packed up, taking a deep breath before you opened the door to face your fate. Your heart was pounding when you got to the car, and it absolutely sank when Johnny called out to you. “Hey if you don’t mind I’m taking the backseat, I didn’t sleep well in that bed last night so I wanna take a nap.”

You looked at Jaehyun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead. He didn’t turn to you when you got into the car, just put it in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

---

There was a heavy silence for the first part of the drive, just the sound of Johnny softly snoring in the backseat. You couldn’t stand it anymore so you finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if I play some music?” you asked. Jaehyun nodded, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He also kept a death grip on the steering wheel, not his usual one hand on the wheel, one hand on the console between you. You could see his knuckles turning white. You had to address this before he combusted.

“Listen Jaehyun, about last night…” you couldn’t look at him as you spoke, but he didn’t respond, so you looked up at him cautiously. He looked like he was in pain. “I’m really, really sorry for making you do… that.”

“You didn’t make me,” he responded quietly, “I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to put you in that position. I’m sorry.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders finally slumping and his hands slackening a little on the steering wheel. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. It felt nice to make you feel good like that.” He hazarded a careful smile as he finally looked over at you.

Again you didn’t know how to feel, should you be insulted that he enjoyed it, or should you be flattered that he wanted to make you feel good? It was all so maddening to you. His entire existence affected you in a way you’d never been affected by anyone or anything before in your life. Just his presence mere inches from you had an exhilarating effect that you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah, well, thanks then, I guess.” You really didn’t know what to say at that point.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won’t ask you to do anything like that ever again.” You looked at him expectantly.

His face fell slightly, his smile faltering, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded. “For sure, not a problem.”

Wanting to change the subject and also to fill the silence you picked up your phone. “Hey, what’s your instagram?”

He looked over at you in surprise, before he turned back to the road and smiled. “It’s just my name, I’m boring like that.”

You opened instagram on your phone and quickly found him, pressing the follow button. You scrolled through his page, filled with pictures of the night sky, and not much else.

“Wow, you really are boring,” you teased, but as you scrolled you came across a picture of him. He was sitting at a table, probably in a restaurant, the person taking the picture sitting directly across from him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the picture taker with a soft expression. “Hm, this is a nice picture of you.”

He looked over to see which one you meant, and just nodded. “My ex took that picture.”

“Which one?” you scoffed, and you instantly regretted your words when you saw how his face fell.

“Sorry,” you said in a meek voice.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that.” He sighed. You should have left it, it really wasn’t your business, but you were dying to know.

“What’s the story anyway? With all those girls that you date. Are you really a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy?” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing the subject itself was anything but light. He was quiet for a long time and you thought he might be mad at you for asking. “Forget it, sorry I asked.”

He blew out a breath, and you really thought he was going to lay into you, but instead he poured out his heart.

“It’s, um, it’s a problem, for sure,” he began, and you involuntarily leaned closer as if he was going to tell you the secrets of the universe, “I thought I could find, you know, ‘the one’ as they call it, but it turned out to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but I figured she was out there, you know? But with each person I dated, I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“Were you being too picky maybe?” you offered.

He nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, yeah? I thought maybe I should give it a chance sometimes, but why prolong something that you know isn’t going anywhere? I usually knew by the end of the first date.”

“So wait, all of these women were just first dates?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So…. you weren’t, you know,” at this point you made a hole with one hand and the motion of your finger going through it with the other. If Johnny were awake he would have smacked you upside the head for being so juvenile.

Jaehyun just shook his head. “No, I didn’t have sex with them.”

You were floored. All this time you thought he was a sex machine, thinking he was bringing these women home to bed them and that’s why you and Johnny couldn’t hang out at their place.

“So when you were bringing them back to your apartment and Johnny and I were banned from hanging around, you weren’t banging them?” you had to ask.

He laughed. “No, I was cooking for them. It’s my thing.” He shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had the wrong idea about him all this time, just like Johnny had said. You could hear Johnny’s voice in your head: you have the wrong idea about him, Y/N. Your mouth dropped open in shock. You could already hear Johnny gloating: told you so, told you so!

“It’s so lame, I know,” he chuckled humorlessly, “the last one really threw me though.”

“Why?” you asked, sincerely curious, “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No, it was the same story, but this time I decided to give it a chance. It got to the point where she really fell for me, but I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings and I felt terrible. I had to break it off, and she was furious. She blamed me for leading her on, told me I was a ‘lost boy who would never find love’ and threw me out of her house. I was at my lowest point and Johnny felt bad for me, so he suggested I go on this trip with you guys. So that’s why I’m here.”

You instantly felt like a sack of shit. Not only did you misjudge him so badly, you treated him like crap when all he needed was a fun time with friends.

“Oh fuck, I’m so lame,” you cursed yourself, “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled weakly. “Johnny told me what you thought of me, he said I should explain myself to you but I figured people believe actions over words, right? So I thought I could charm you but that backfired magnificently.”

You could only laugh. The two of you were like two dumb peas in a pod. “We’re both lame,” you lamented dramatically, at which point he threw his head back and laughed, a sound so beautiful to your ears you wanted to bottle it and keep it forever. Not to mention that when he laughed like that, the dimples in his cheeks got impossibly deep and his nose scrunched ever so cutely. You knew you were in deep trouble now.

“What’s so damn funny?” Johnny had woken up and clearly was not happy about it.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun looked in the rearview mirror to address Johnny, “Y/N was being funny.” He looked over at you and winked, you stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Johnny watched the two of you, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“Wait, does that mean the two of you are-” here he slapped his hand over his mouth in shock, “friends now?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, “I know this was all part of your plan. Go ahead and gloat, I’ll just ignore you.” You put in your airpods and pretended that you were listening to music.

“Finally!” Johnny yelled, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulders, “Told you she wasn’t a stuck-up, judgmental, annoying little brat!”

“Hey!” you turned around and punched him hard in the shoulder, “I heard that!”

---

For the rest of the drive Johnny alternated between expressing his relief at the two of you finally getting along, and teasing you about Jaehyun’s charms.

“You know that Jaehyun can cook, right? That means he’s good with his hands.” Johnny stated, smirking at the innuendo. If he only knew, you thought. You looked over at Jaehyun and his ears had turned red.

“I’m sure he is.” You couldn’t help yourself. Jaehyun shot you a panicked look, before he laughed nervously. “Maybe I can come over one day and you can cook for all of us.” You looked over to see his reaction.

He smiled widely and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Look at this! We’re all one big, happy family!” Johnny put his arms around both you and Jaehyun’s shoulders. You looked at your best friend and smiled. He was genuinely happy. You could only imagine how upsetting it was for him to have two people in his life who were very important to him, not be able to get along. You felt bad for putting him through that just because you were stubborn, and just as you were about to open your mouth to apologize he dropped a bomb.

“And since we’re all so close now, we can all share the one king size bed in the motel tonight since it was the last room I was able to get.” He winked and shot finger hearts at you, and you wondered if there were any good places nearby to dispose of a body.

---

He was true to his word that night, climbing into the bed on one side and motioning for you and Jaehyun to get in with him.

“Come on in, I don’t bite. But I can if you want me to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jaehyun played along, giggling and covering his mouth demurely with his hand. You rolled your eyes. They really did belong together.

“You get in the middle then,” you addressed Jaehyun, “so you two lovebirds can be together.” Jaehyun laughed and got into the bed, and you followed, turning off the lights. With the lights on the mood could be playful and fun, but as soon as it was dark the seriousness of the situation hit you. You were so keenly aware of Jaehyun’s body beside you. You could hear him breathing, could see his chest rise and fall in the dim light. You could smell the faint musky scent of his cologne. There was no way you could fall asleep.

Jaehyun seemed to be having the same problem. Because of the lack of space, he wasn’t able to bring in an extra pillow to hug to help him fall asleep. He tossed and turned, sometimes kneeing or elbowing Johnny in the process, but Johnny slept like the dead and would only grunt and then turn over. This wouldn’t do.

“Do you need to hug something?” you whispered.

“It’s okay, there’s no space. I’ll manage.” He reassured you. But he sighed, and so you mustered up your courage.

“You can hug me, if you want,” you offered, “Just hug.” You felt like you should specify. He was quiet for a while so you thought he’d fallen asleep, but then you felt him turn towards you, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you involuntarily shuddered at his proximity. He felt good. His arm around you felt good. His body firm against your back felt good.

“Yeah,” you answered him, closing your eyes and finally giving in to the feelings you had been trying to hold back. “I’m really sure.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines

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poppinisperfection · 4 years ago

Text

Cool. || Peter Maximoff x Reader pt. 1 ||

Peter Maximoff x fem!human!Reader

(Y/n) is history teacher.

Requested.

Word Count: 3543

Notes: Peter acts a little strange in this, he's not being cold on purpose - so keep that in mind. Let's all presume (Y/n) is an independent woman who doesn't let an aloof guy ruin her day 💫 it's more of an introduction, so sorry if that dissapoints y'all. I hope you enjoy this extremely long piece of writing, let me know what you think. Requests are open 🙌

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @scorpionchild81

Masterlist

I flicked the indicator, as it clicked rhythmically and signaled my next turn. Grasping the steering wheel tightly, I wondered whether the direction I was heading in was the right one. My eyes drifted down to the small business card that was beginning to wrinkle from the amount of times it had been read and re-read.

‘Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York’

With a deep breath, I pushed my foot gently on the accelerator and turned the wheel - solidifying my decision. I drove down the graveled driveway as the evening sun pierced through the acres of fields and forests that dotted the landscape. This place was unlike any school I had ever seen. I had taught at various institutions of all kinds during my training, but something about this place was like something out of a fairytale or Jane Austen novel.

The old academic building grew closer as I prepared to slow down my vehicle and stop at the entrance. I peered around, trying to see if there was any places dedicated for me to park; but as far as I could tell, this was the only appropriate place for me to stop.

I pulled out my key and felt the car’s engine fade to silence. I didn’t notice how comforting the gentle grumbles of the vehicle had been until they were gone. Now, all that was left was my mind and the thousand worries that crashed around inside it. I'm not a mutant, but I often wonder if being anxious about everything is some sort of weird useless mutation that I unfortunately had.

Before I could become consumed by my menial fears, the vintage wooden doors opened up as if on cue. A man in a chair wheeled out as his familiar face smiled at me, and I was honestly quite awe-struck by his sudden appearance. I had spoken to Professor Charles Xavier on the phone before (for the job interview), and I had watched him on television a few times, but something about actually being near him was so incredible. This man changed the lives of so many people, possibly even the world.

I took a deep breath in and returned the kind smile, opening my car door and placing my feet onto the ground - the gravel crunching underfoot.

"Professor Xavier, it's so good to meet you." I spoke nervously, unsure of what I should do with my posture. Should I shake his hand? Should I high-five him? Should I bow? Okay maybe those last two were a bit far-fetched...

"The pleasure is all mine, (Y/n)." A voice rang through my head, as if it were my own thoughts speaking to me. But I recognized the voice, a smooth English accent that belonged to the world's most famous telepath.

"Incredible..." I breathed. Some might find it intrusive or freaky, but I was quite honored and honestly dazzled by his abilities. A figure appeared behind the wheelchair-bound man, distracting me from my child-like awe.

"Don't be a such a show-off, Charles." my attention turned to a tall man wearing a pair of glasses and a smart checkered shirt. "Good Evening, I'm Hank McCoy." he piped up cheerily, holding out his hand for me to shake. I absentmindedly took it, a bit starstruck by the world-renowned engineer, scientist, blue-furry man, and genius.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." I eventually spoke up, causing Hank to raise an eyebrow at my words.

“’(L/n)’? You're the new history teacher?" I nodded at his question, "Oh wow, you came so highly recommend that I presumed you'd be a bit more... experienced?" he chose his words carefully as to not offend. I know that most people picture an old greying woman who wears outdated fashion when they think of a history teacher...

"Oh, I'm young, I know." I explained with a bashful chuckle.

“Hank, you of all people should know greatness is not defined by age.” Charles turned to his colleague.

“I read that you graduated Harvard at 16.” I blurted out.

“15, actually.” McCoy mumbled humbly. Xavier gave a satisfied smile as his point was proven.

“(Y/n) here was top of her class, and I have no doubt that she’ll be a wonderful addition to the school.” the wise mutant stated, assuring Hank and giving me a boost of confidence. “Come inside, Hank can carry your bags for you, won’t you?” the professor inquired cheekily as McCoy threw him a look of slight distain.

“Somedays I wish I wasn’t born with super-strength...” the academic man shook his head - the comment laced with light-hearted sarcasm - before heading to my car and pulling out my two bags, not even giving me a chance to politely object to the offer.

“Ignore him, he’s just grumpy because he’s not on the mission.” Professor Xavier chuckled, turning his wheelchair around and beckoning for me to follow him inside.

“I only trust myself to pilot that beauty.” Hank mentioned wistfully, probably referring to his famous aeronautical creation.

“’The mission’?” I questioned with intrigue, trailing behind him and entering the grand entrance.

“The X-Men are on a routine escort mission for the President at the moment,” my attention turned away from the antique décor as I choked on my breath slightly at his words. Of course I had heard of the famous troop of mutant heroes, but it just suddenly became so real. I was living where the X-Men lived. You know, the same X-Men that saved the world from complete destruction. “I was hoping they’d be here to show you around - but duty calls.” Charles finished.

“Oh of... of course, duty...” I managed to mutter out eventually, earning a slight laugh from the Professor. He didn’t need to be a telepath to read my mind right now. I was so obviously astonished at the whole situation. I couldn’t believe that I was finally here, after months of thinking, considering, and second-guessing. I knew it was a risk, and I couldn’t even return to my parents if it failed.

Let’s just say that my folks weren’t very supportive of my decision to teach at a 'mutant mansion', as they would call it. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was bravery; but I ignored their advice and became determined to come to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngers. Now it was my only chance, since my family won't be welcoming me back anytime soon.

I followed Charles around, as he showed me all the rooms and explained some of the history as Hank make the odd comment or interjection. Most notably that the house was actually only a few years old, owing to the fact that the school had been blown up and rebuild a year ago. That was a fact that I could’ve gone without knowing. All I could do was hope that it didn’t blow up again, or at least not when I was around anyway.

"Your classroom will be right next to the library," Xavier motioned towards a pair of wooden doors that lay open for students to walk freely into, "and feel free to check out any of the books as well - I have a few secret shelves for teachers, with some unregulated research papers on pre-20th century mutations, if that sounds interesting to you?" he added with a playful smile, as I nodded my head in admiration. This place sounded like an absolute dream, and I've only been here for less than an hour.

-------

As we strolled (and wheeled) down the wooden hallways, I noticed the students disappear one by one. By the looks of it, the early night had truly set in, and the majority of children were either in their rooms studying or hanging out in a common area.

"I suppose there's nothing more we can show you until the class starts tomorrow morning, I was really hoping that the team would be back by now..." Xavier gave a short sigh and furrowed his brows slightly, "But I suppose I've prolonged your tour as long as I could. Perhaps Hank, you could show (Y/n) to her room and she can rest in preparation for tomorrow." his smile returned as he asked his colleague for another favor. McCoy nodded his head and gave me a polite smile, still carrying around my bags from earlier. Maybe he didn't anticipate the Professor giving such an expansive and detailed tour of the mansion, so the bags must've been getting burdensome at this stage.

The spectacle-wearing teacher walked ahead of me and strolled towards the grand staircase that lead to the upstairs area (which we had previously travelled to earlier, but it's mainly bedrooms that we couldn't intrude into). I trailed my fingers along the carved bannister of the staircase, admiring the craftsmanship. Considering the school had been blown apart; this place looked as though it was straight out of a historical drama. The Professor could've went for a more modern update, like the ones you see in magazines and government buildings - but something about the simplicity of 1980s architecture just seemed cold and clinical. I'm glad they kept the historical charm alive.

"So you're really not, well, you know..." Hank broke me out of my daydreaming as he turned his head slightly and paused at the top of the steps. It took me a second to register what he was asking, but then it hit me.

"A mutant? Oh," I gave a meek smile before answering, "No I'm just a regular 'homosapien', completely boring." my sentence ended with a light chuckle at my own expense.

"Then you'll be the first non-mutant teacher here, you're making history." McCoy replied with zest as he began to walk down the hallway again.

"I thought I was supposed to teach history, not make it." I chirped from behind him, earning a snort and chuckle from the nerdy fellow (I know, I know - I'm a superb comedian).

As we passed by the student rooms, I could hear the various sounds emerging from behind their doors. One was gossiping loudly to their friends, another was blasting ABBA and singing along, and I could've swore that I heard some quiet sobs escaping through the keyhole of one door. My face fell into a frown as we passed by, and Hank paused slightly, before turning to me.

"That's Sophie Smith's room, she's homesick a lot." he whispered to me, his features showing concern. "You might have her for a class, so maybe keep an eye out if she's struggling." Hank suggested, as my heart went out for this student. I gave him a nod before we continued on our neverending journey towards my room.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of a corridor and my guide dropped my bags carefully on the wooden flooring. He twisted the door knob with one hand, and I watched as the door opened and revealed my bedroom.

"’Home sweet home’, as the saying goes." Hank uttered with a light tone. I stepped into the room and took my bags from the floor, carrying them in with me.

"It's so..." I breathed, observing the room.

"I know, we were supposed to get the curtains changed last month, but there was a mix-up and it's been dela-" he tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"Oh no! I was going to say, 'It's so perfect'." I clarified, brushing off his embarrassment at the state of the curtains (which were beautiful anyway). I stepped forward and placed my bags at the end of the bed while gazing at the beautiful room. This place was growing on me more and more with each minute that passed.

“I’ll let you get settled in for the night then, there’s a copy of your timetable on your desk - it has all the information you’ll need for classes and etcetera.” Hank gestured to the neat pile of paper sheets on the wooden desk, “There’s always food in the kitchen, feel free to eat whenever and whatever you want.” he added, as my attention turned to my empty stomach. I will definitely be visiting the kitchen after I get settled in.

“Thank you, for everything.” I beamed, unable to truly express my gratitude. He returned the smile and nodded, before shutting the door and returning to his business. As soon as his footsteps disappeared, I fell flat on the quilted bedsheets and sprawled out, giving out a pent up sigh. It was the kind of sigh that released anxiety and replaced it with assurance. From the looks of it, things were going to be alright - and there was nothing more satisfying that knowing you made the right decision.

My brief escape into my feelings was cut short, as my stomach audibly warned me that it was running low on fuel. I turned my head and looked over to the beside alarm clock, reading the time; ‘8:24p.m.’

“Hmm,” I mused as I considered my options, “I should probably read you first...” my eyes drifted to the timetable that sat untouched on the desk. My belly did not agree with this decision, as it grumbled once more. “Okay, alright... yeesh.” I placed a hand against my abdomen, trying to settle the noise. “Food first, read later.” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and resolved to make my way towards the school’s kitchen.

-------

Finding the kitchen was no problem, as the Professor showed it to me at least three times earlier. I guess he really was trying to stretch that tour out as much as possible. A few of the older students who were hanging around glanced at me as I entered the room. I couldn’t tell if they knew I was a teacher, or if they just thought I was a new student; either way, they didn’t stick around to find out. The group of teenagers grabbed their snacks and left the room once their privacy was interrupted. Honestly, I just think they were gossiping about some pop music band and didn’t want a stranger listening - so I didn’t mind their swift exit. It left me with some privacy as well, which was nice.

I noticed a small radio sitting in the window sill, and decided to switch it on to break the silence. A static noise rang out as I extended the antenna and turned the knob carefully. Soon a voice grew clearer, and I had reached a station playing something. I just let the song play out, since I didn’t want to bother with searching the airwaves for something else.

I stepped over to the pantry and surveyed the contents carefully. I was starving, but I couldn’t figure out what for. I picked up a loaf of bread and placed it on the counter, deciding it would have to be a PB & Jelly sandwich. Grabbing a plate, I began to craft my makeshift dinner. Absentmindedly, my head began to sway gently to the tune that played through the tinny radio speaker. It was one of those cheesy love songs that are always playing these days. There was something so catchy about those songs, and instinctively I began to mouth the words and drift into an MTV daydream.

My brief escape from reality faded away as I noticed a clinking noise coming from the glass and cutlery. It was almost like an earthquake, but I knew that New York was unlikely to experience that kind of disaster (well I hoped so, at least).

A bright light shone outside the window, and I stepped closer to peer out. The basketball court had opened up and revealed a massive basement beneath it. A few seconds later, a black jet descended gracefully from the dark sky and lowered itself underground while the whole mansion trembled with the power it created. I swiftly grabbed the jam jar as it almost slipped off the edge of the counter, and stared in awe.

“So that’s where they keep it...” I breathed out as the basketball court returned to its normal state, as if nothing had happened. I stood in wonder for a few seconds, still holding the jar tightly in my hands. That was probably the most of the X-Men I’d be seeing tonight. I’m no expert on presidential mission debriefing, but I presumed the team of elite heroes wouldn’t be mingling with the common folk upstairs for at least an hou-

“Ugh, this song’s a real bummer.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a voice suddenly quipped from beside me. My attention hastily turned to a combat uniformed young man - quickly flicking through the radio stations. I stared at him, half confused and half terrified of his sudden appearance. Slowly I began to recognize his features; silvery hair, aloof attitude, and of course, the recognisable X-Men uniform.

“Hey - you’re that guy...” I tilted my head slightly as I spoke without thinking. In a split second, he appeared at the fridge wearing an entirely new outfit, this time more casual. The music had changed to something more rock-y and alternative, matching his aesthetic. I was almost certain of it. I couldn’t remember his name, but I’ve definitely seen him with the X-Men on the news. I was almost certain of it.

“Nah, you’re thinking of a different guy.” he responded without second thought, while lifting out a can of some kind of soda. I felt my mouth contort in confusion, bemused by his comment.

“I...” my thoughts paused to phrase my words correctly, “You were just wearing an X-Men uniform, you’ve got to be him.” I managed to retort, causing the confident fellow to raise an eyebrow. With the blink of an eye, he had disappeared from my sight again.

“So, you don’t even know his name - and you’re convinced he’s me?” the silver-haired guy stated nonchalantly from behind me as he sipped on his drink. I gasped and grabbed my chest in surprise, not expecting him to sneak up behind me like that. I gave a sigh and prepared to answer the question.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes and wracked my brain for a moment, “Peter, right?” I sighed, finally recalling the speedy mutant’s name. I looked up at him and expected some sort of witty remark. Instead, he just stared at me for a few seconds. I avoided his gaze awkwardly and looked down at the jam jar that still sat in my hands. Clearing my throat, I placed it carefully onto the counter beside me - trying to distract from his sudden silence.

“Oh.” I mumbled at the change of topic, “I am. Only arrived here a few hours ago. The Professor showed me around earlier, with Hank, I saw all the classrooms and it was really quite-” I harped on, “I'm sorry, I'm rambling..." my voice lowered, as I watched the casual fellow open up a bag of pretzels and munch on them absentmindedly. He gave a soft chuckle at my apology.

“So, you’re new here?” for the third time, he appeared in a different location, leaving me to turn around one more time. He faced away from me, opening a drawer and surveying its content silently.

"Cool." he replied simply, placing a few more pretzels into his mouth.

"Cool." I repeated gently, trying to decipher his aloofness. This 'Peter' was blunt, distant, and almost cold. It was as if I had offended him somehow. I stared at my surroundings for a brief moment, before deciding to get off of the wrong foot.

"I'm sorry if I was rude earlier; or was it that I couldn't remember your name?" I tried to find the reason for his indifference, wringing my hands with nerves. Peter raised an eyebrow and scowled slightly at my question.

"Rude?" he asked with a shocked tone.

"Yeah, I thought I offended you?" I explained.

"Nah, nah, we're good." he shrugged my theory off and zoomed over to the bin, throwing the crumpled wrapper in it. "I gotta go now, X-Men stuff." Peter turned to me and excused himself. I gave a soft 'oh' in surprise, and held out my hand for him to shake (just a teacher habit, I guess).

"Nice to meet you anyway, Peter." I smiled at him. The silvery guy just stared at my hand and then looked back up to me - but for some reason, avoided my eyes.

"Cool." he said again, before disappearing from sight; leaving me standing there, alone, holding my hand out for no one. Slowly I lowered my wrist and cleared my throat.

"Cool..." I said to myself, still entirely confused by the interaction. My attention quickly turned to the change in music. The radio suddenly shifted from the grungy tunes, back to the end of love ballad that I was listening to earlier. He must've changed it back. I tilted my head and stared at the little radio in the window, listening and thinking.

Maybe he wasn't as cold as I thought. Maybe I'll try and get a better conversation from that silver-haired boy tomorrow. Maybe I'll get that handshake from him. Maybe.

Still, the only thing that matters right now is that I eat that PB&J sandwich.

-------

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

Text

pirate king (10) || atz

How did you end up in this situation?

Cobblestone under your feet, smoke in your eyes and sandwiched uncomfortably between two men. When you look to your left, the purple haired gunner grins easily and the arm slung over your shoulder tightens, sending you into some form of secret-to-hide panic. When you turn to the right, Jongho merely looks away, your mind coming up with a hundred and one reasons why he hates you.

After treating Jongho’s wound, the quartermaster, Mingi, had announced that the ship had finally arrived in the pirate town of Tortuga. San had brought you up to the forecastle deck, where you watched civilized land come into sight for the first time since your awakening.

The ship had docked in one of the empty piers, much to the excitement of the crew. You knew many of them loved the ocean, it was their home, but you had to admit that seeing the same thing for weeks had to get boring after a while. It was also difficult to bring fresh food onto ship as it spoilt fast, so most of the ship had been buzzing excitedly about all the delicacies they would eat once they had the chance to explore the town.

But you had a different mission.

After Mingi had gone to the docks to settle the toll, San had pulled you to the side. You frowned at him as he produced a long list from his pocket.

“Uh, Master, what is that?”

“I need you to go shopping in town for me.” The healer had told you, pressing the list into your hands. You immediately started to panic.

“Me? Master, I can’t! I barely know my way around the ship, let alone a new town I’ve never been to!”

Your reasoning fell on deaf ears.

“It’ll be fine! I’ll have Jongho follow you, he’s going into town as well for some shopping.” San chirped happily as he pulled a coin pouch from the inner folds of his shirt. You stared at him in abject horror as the coins clinked in your hand.

“Master! You can’t send me with… with Jongho-hyung! Why don’t you send Seonghwa-hyung or Yeosang-hyung instead?”

No way. No way in hell were you going to be with the young battlemaster for long, extended periods of time. He’d probably “accidentally” lose you in town somewhere as revenge for shooting him on accident and you had no wish to die a terrible death in some dank, dirty alley.

San had cocked his head at you curiously. “Seonghwa-hyung is busy fixing the ship as the head carpenter on board. Yeosangie is helping Mingi negotiate for a lower price to pay for the toll. I need to stay here to treat the wounded and Jongho can’t tell a marigold poultice from marmalade.” Then the corners of his eyes crinkled a little and he gave you a sly grin. “Or is there any reason why you don’t want to be alone with Jongho?”

You glared at him. Your master must have felt the tension in the room between you and the young battlemaster earlier, and now he was just milking it for all it was worth instead of helping you out.

San had laughed at the sour look on your face and relented a little. “Alright, alright. How about this? I’ll send Wooyoungie with you and Jongho.”

“Send who with me now?” You were utterly confused. The healer sighed.

“The head gunner?” He tried to jog your memory, gesturing wildly with his hands as if that would aid you in remembering anything. “The one with the dolphin laugh? The purple haired one?”

“Him?” You were sent into a moment of panic, flailing your arms desperately. “But I don’t know him either!”

San clapped, the sounds starting to get annoyingly loud. “All the better! You can finally get to know more of your crew mates!” He steered you by the shoulders towards the gangplank, which had been lowered for the crew to disembark the ship, all while ignoring your cries of protest. “Just wait there for Jongho and Wooyoung!”

And that was how you had ended up in this terrible situation.

“So, you’re our little stowaway, aren’t you?” Wooyoung beams at you, arm around your shoulder. His hand is hanging alarmingly close to your chest, but you can’t push it away without garnering suspicion. You try to give him a smile, but it comes out more like a painful grimace.

“Yes?” Your answer sounds more like a question.

“Aigoo, you’re so cute!” Wooyoung smooshes your cheeks together much to your complete embarrassment. Then you hear a muffled snort from your right and you really want to crawl into a hole and die. The purple haired gunner is way too close, way too touchy feely, way too physical. Honestly, you’ve just met the man!

You give him an awkward chuckle through your squished cheeks and pull his hands from your face. The shackles around his wrists jingle as his hands fall back to his sides.

“So, where are we going?” You try to distract the man before he tries to hug you again. You don’t think your heart can take any more surprise embraces before it gives you a heart attack.

Wooyoung stops in the middle of the street you’re in, glancing around. The place is bustling with people, vendors peddling their wares, women in colourful dresses picking out accessories and hairpins.

Your fingers reach up to brush the short, messy braid your own hair is in and for a lingering moment, a feeling of yearning rushes through you.

“Do you want a hairpin, stowaway?” Wooyoung’s head rests on your shoulder and you leap into the air in fright. The gunner miraculously twirls out of the way with insane reflexes, barely saving his jaw from being crushed by you.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeak, horrified, but Wooyoung merely waves you off with a grin.

“Aww, it’s no problem.” He smiles merrily at you and you’re starting to get a little scared from how he doesn’t seem to stop grinning. Then he looks over your shoulder, his eyes crinkling to adorable half moons as his smile somehow grows even wider.

You turn to see what he’s looking at.

A gorgeous woman stands there, dolled up beautifully with a fair face and red slicked lips. Her dark hair is done in a shower of ringlets, pinned on top of her head with an intricate silver butterfly hairpin. Dressed in a tight leather corset and a ruffled lace skirt that barely comes to midthigh, she and her group of friends draw eyes from everywhere.

Wooyoung beams and waves at her.

The woman looks shocked for a moment before her lips curve up in a sultry smile, her finger beckoning him forward in a come hither motion. The head gunner grins at the two of you.

“Well, I’ll be going now!” Wooyoung squeezes you and Jongho into a tight hug, much to your panic. The maknae stares at him in mounting shock and fury. “Remember to take care of our baby stowaway, Jongho-ah!”

“Hyung, you can’t just leave me alone with him, you shameless basta-”

But then Wooyung is gone with the mysterious woman before the two of you can blink.

Jongho practically has steam pouring from his ears. “I’m going to kill that little son of a bitch the next time I see him. Ditching me to babysit while he sleeps around-”

A frown pulls on your lips as Jongho rants on to nobody.

“Why doesn’t Wooyoung-hyung just sleep on the ship?” You pipe up timidly, and Jongho whirls around to stare at you in shock with a hand pressed against his mouth.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

Then Jongho starts rambling with the most unnatural smile you’ve seen plastered on his face. “I can explain-”. He pauses for a long moment, then shakes his head furiously. “No, scratch that, I actually can’t explain. Well… Wooyoung-hyung doesn’t like the hammocks on board, so he prefers sleeping on land-”

“So is the woman his friend?” You ask, glancing back at where the two had left, a lavishly decorated building of marble and stone, the letters above it spelling “The House Of Pleasure” in crimson red.

Jongho’s smile turns rather strained and his eyes flit around desperately as if looking for something. “Yes?” He finally chokes out, not quite meeting your gaze as he steers you away from the building and down the dusty street.

“Their skirts are really short.” You muse to yourself quietly. You wonder if that’s practical and turn to the silent maknae to ask, but his face is as dark as a thundercloud and you’re immediately wary of his temper. Swallowing your question, you follow him as he stomps down the alleys and winding streets, meek and silent as a mouse.

Eventually the two of you end up outside a small, dingy shop, the windows dark with grime as if they haven’t seen a clean rag for centuries. A wooden sign hanging from the doorway depicts a picture of a snake curled around a short staff.

“This is an apothecary.” Jongho jerks his thumb at the shop. “Get whatever the hell you need fast so we can get back to the ship.”

You jump a little at his curt tone, but you can tell he’s still simmering with rage at how Wooyoung just up and left the two of you alone with each other. Your head droops. He must really dislike you after the little stunt you pulled with the musket yesterday. And now he’s stuck with you, forced to take care of you and stay with you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly under your breath, but Jongho hears it anyway and whirls around to stare at you.

“What?”

The two of you stare at each other for another awkward moment. Well, shit, you hadn’t meant for him to hear that, but since he had, you might as well tell him what you had wanted to.

You repeat the words a little more clearly this time. “I’m. Sorry.”

Jongho waves off your second apology impatiently. “Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. Why are you apologizing, though?”

You look down at the ground, your booted feet kicking back and forth at the cobblestones. “I’m sorry for being such a burden to you, Jongho-hyung.” Your voice comes out smaller than you thought it would be.

The young battlemaster remains silent for a moment. Then he grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you towards the shop, much to your surprise.

“Get your stuff.” His voice is a little softer, gentler, kinder now. You’re a little confused by his sudden change in attitude, but you do as he says and enter the apothecary.

“Marigold poultice, green tea leaves, honey…” You move past the shelves, studying the handwritten labels as Jongho trails behind you. The maknae looks utterly lost in the small shop, his shoulders brushing the glass jars on the shelves dangerously as he glances around curiously at the dried herbs hanging from the rafters.

“That’ll be twelve silvers, child.” You whip around in shock to see a wizened old man standing there. The bottles and herbs almost tumble to the ground, but Jongho scoops them up before they can shatter into pieces.

“Don’t scare him, old man.” The young battlemaster shoots the shopkeeper a dirty look as you thank Jongho profusely. The elder simply smiles expectantly. His silvery eyes are almost unblinking and you’re a little creeped out for a moment.

Then you remember you’re supposed to be paying him and rummage around in your shirt pocket for the coin pouch. Carefully counting out twelve small silver coins, you press them into the old man’s hands. They feel rough, like sand, against your fingertips.

“Your first time in Tortuga, huh?” The shopkeeper’s laughter sounds more like a dying wheeze. You and Jongho both stiffen at the words. Then the young battlemaster’s eyes narrow as his fists tighten.

“What’s your deal, you old geezer?”

The man merely lets out a derisive snort, pointing at your chest. For a moment, dread grips you as you fear he may somehow figured out that you’re a woman, but then you realise that he’s pointing to the silver necklace dangling from your neck, the clear cut crystal resting against the rough fabric of your shirt, strangely out of place.

“No smart person would leave such a pretty piece for the taking in a pirate town. I’m doin’ you a favour, kid.”

You rush to shove the necklace back underneath your shirt, heart thumping wildly in your chest. It must have slipped out somehow when you had been walking through town. A bead of sweat clings to the curve of your jaw. “Thank you for your help.”

The old man snorts, turning away as he shoos the two of you away. “Don’t expect to meet another kind soul like me here. Get lost before someone tries to steal it from you and I’m caught in the crossfire.”

The pair of you exit the shop, and you hurriedly shove all the things you’ve bought into a cloth bag. Jongho looks a little on edge from the man’s warning, grabbing the bag from your hand and taking you by the wrist.

“Let’s go.”

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 8

First

Chloe really didn’t know how they’d lost Carapace.

They’d talked about borders for a while and he’d been perfectly fine keeping out of the conversation, and then they’d gotten distracted by Ladybug and Rena saying that fairy lights weren’t necessary, and then he was gone.

… maybe they’d lost Carapace when they were debating exactly how important fairy lights are to the aesthetic. Who knows.

Still, it had been a bit weird when she had casually turned around and not seen the turtle following along behind them.

Had they left him behind? He walked kind of slow, it was entirely plausible… or had he wandered off on his own free will?

One of those was a problem. The other was not.

Chloe pulled out her phone and pulled up the hero group chat.

Queenie: Hey, Carapace, where’d you go?

She doubted she’d get an answer. No one under forty ever has their ringer on --.

Chat’s phone dinged and Chloe rolled her eyes. Someone needed to revoke Chat’s Teen Card.

Chat’s eyes flicked over his phone and then a frown graced his face. He looked around.

“Oh. You’re right. He’s gone…”

Ladybug blinked and looked up. “Should we try and find him?”

“I mean… he is an adult…?” Said Rena slowly, though she didn’t seem all that sure what to do either. The two self-appointed responsible ones started debating quietly.

(Chat used this chance to drop some fairy lights into the cart and hide them under some things. Good for him.)

None of them were all that concerned, of course. Carapace was just as capable a hero as the rest of them, and what kind of trouble could he really get into at Home Depot?

Still, they eventually split up to look for him. After all, they were ready to check out. They’d get whatever Carapace had found, pay, and leave. Simple as that.

Except things never were simple for them.

Chloe frowned as she came upon Carapace and… someone. She was a lot older than him. She hoped he wasn’t trying to chat the lady up.

She pulled out her phone to alert the others.

Queenie: Found him by the paper stuff still.

She leaned back against the nearest wall and started scrolling through her phone absently. It was fine that he was talking to someone, Chloe could wait until he was done…

Wait, no, something was wrong. She lowered her phone a little to look at them.

They were talking in relatively pleasant tones, but there was a tenseness in both of their shoulders that gave Chloe pause.

“A kid like you shouldn’t be left alone…”

A kid like him?

Her eyes narrowed.

“I can handle myself, thank you. I’m Carapace.”

She scoffed lightly. Really? Was he really pulling the Carapace card? Lame. Only she could pull stuff like that.

“And I’m Ladybug,” responded the lady, apparently just as unimpressed about the attempt as Chloe was…

But Chloe couldn’t help but be uncomfortable about the interaction. Something was deeply wrong, she just didn’t quite know what.

“Okay, ma’am, help would be nice, I guess…” Carapace caved.

She frowned a little at that. Honestly, how was he a hero? So meek and quiet, sometimes she found it odd that he would even face the akumas.

But, hey, if he wasn’t going to stand up for himself then she’d be glad to do it for him. He was the only tolerable one in the house and she wasn’t just going to let people walk all over him.

She pulled her mask off (hers was really only for aesthetic purposes, to make them look like a matching set, anyways) and set it in her bag and fluffed her hair a little. There. Now she should look like she usually did on TV.

She marched over, pulling an annoyed frown to her face (this wasn’t hard). “Hey, idiot, I looked everywhere for you.”

The lady’s eyes went wide as they landed on the mayor’s daughter and the only out hero of Paris.

“You’re actually… I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t know!”

Carapace’s forced smile dropped into a more sincere, almost apologetic smile. “It’s okay, ma’am. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

Chloe, however, didn’t soften in the slightest. “Oh, so now that you know he’s Carapace you’re sorry?”

“Chloe, it’s fine.”

“Is it? What were you going to do if he wasn’t Carapace?”

The woman looked uncomfortable as she mumbled another apology.

Chloe was about to go off on her some more, but a hand on her arm made her stop.

She turned to look and saw that all the other miraculous holders were there, too, and they looked to be bracing themselves for a fight. (Ladybug had even transformed, though it was hard to tell the difference.)

She squeezed her eyes shut. She hated everything that was going on in that moment, but she hated the idea of being the first to get akumatized since moving in even more.

So, she pulled herself together. Once she was sure that her emotions had dulled to a low enough hum that Hawkmoth wouldn’t detect it, she sent the woman a cold look.

“I hope you have a safe weekend, mademoiselle.” She settled for mild passive-aggression. Paris was full of that at this point. She was sure the woman caught on.

She whipped around and pulled Carapace away by the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You really shouldn’t let that kind of stuff slide.”

“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s even worse!”

He rolled his eyes a little and waved to Rena and Ladybug as they got closer. “Hey, guys, it’s time for my favorite game! Do you think she was racist, classist, or just wary of teens?”

Rena laughed a little. “Did you SEE her? Definitely racist.”

“Well, if she was a classist she’d have to think you were pretty low. She’s working at Home Depot,” said Ladybug after a second’s thought. “Could still be a teen thing, though.”

“No way! She singled him out.”

“That makes sense.” Carapace gave Chloe a shrug. “See? It’s normal.”

Chloe was steadily getting more and more horrified. Why were they so… casual about it all? Carapace was joking? Rena was laughing? Even Ladybug seemed a little amused? Even if it actually was normal for them, it definitely shouldn’t be…

Her eyes met Chat’s and she was glad to find that he also seemed to think what was going on was absolutely insane.

But could they really say anything about how they were dealing with it? They weren’t exactly in a marginalized group.

No. Probably not.

“Why’d you run off, anyways?” Said Rena.

Whether the change in subject was intentional or just her natural need to know everything, Carapace seemed happy to indulge her. He held up some purple butterfly cut-outs. “We can use this for the board.”

“Oh. That would be cute,” said Chat slowly.

Ladybug had gone a little red behind her mask, and if anyone else noticed they didn’t feel the need to comment.

“Ready to go?” Said Rena.

Ladybug sifted through the things a little to make sure they had everything they’d need, much to Chat and Chloe’s dismay. When her eyes landed on the fairy lights she blinked a little…

And then she pressed her lips together and continued searching.

Chloe and Chat beamed.

“I think we have everything. Let’s get out of this place.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

#a miraculous tiktok account #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #carapace #nino lahiffe #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #rena rouge #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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mirahuyooo · 4 years ago

Text

Come Back Home | knj

Come Back Home

—Even as a fight ensues, all Namjoon wants is for you to come back home

Word Count: 2,267 Content/s: ANGst, fluff, dRAMa, established relationship, cursing lol, Namjoon & Y/N fighting Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHdAY JOONIE!!! I’m sorry for posting so late, but here’s what I have for Joon! It’s angsty but trust in me y’all osauhdsuaofugb Hope you enjoyed!

[masterlist]

"God fucking damn it, Namjoon! Listen to me!"

Namjoon watches as your voice echoes throughout the apartment, throat raw from the frustrating battle you've been fighting for hours now. He could feel his own fury raging through him, jaw tightly locked in place to try and bite back any more words to later regret. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and, instead, urged himself to remain at a distance, his own chest heaving heavily from the tension of it all.

The root of such a chaos, he could hardly remember now, but he knew well that things have spiralled out of control. Fighting between couples is normal. It makes you grow from the mistakes and learn to move cooperatively with one another—but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant. It doesn't make it any less hurtful.

With fights like this, where the two of you are seething with rage and the room itself begins to feel suffocating, Namjoon couldn't help but begin to worry. Especially when—

"That's it!" You exclaim, "I don't want to see you or talk to you right now."

Namjoon watched as you angrily marched towards the door, grabbing a coat and a pair of shoes along the way. His heart already adapted another pace or two. "(Y/N)," he calls out in a warning, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he stills himself to follow you as calm as he currently can. He doesn't make a move to touch you, knowing well that you would slap his hand away. Instead, he stands there behind you, watching you fight back the tears while crouching and tying your shoe laces. "It's late," he reminds, matter-of-factly, "It'd be dangerous to head out there alone at this hour."

You shot up after finishing your laces, going around him to grab your wallet and phone, and haphazardly shoving them into the pocket of your coat. "I don't care," you spat, too overwhelmed by your emotions to even give a damn or to even remember the promise the two of you made for one another—wherein you two would always try and fix the situation before going to bed.

"(Y/N)—"

Slam!

Another sigh escapes the tall man, as he lifts a hand to ease the exhausting knot on the back of his neck. His brain was swimming with the anxious thoughts that fret over your wellbeing, but his heart was seized with a petty sense of pride, not wanting to be the first to give in.

Namjoon knew that the promise would be a difficult feat to follow through at times, and there have been a few events like this where one of you would go out to cool off—either to the Han River or the nearest playground. Though he respects the fact that you both need time to calm down, he always hates it when you decide to leave the house. He knew how much you hate it when he does it, too.

Perhaps, in an attempt to hurt the other, you both resort to such acts. Either way, it would be no use idling around—otherwise, it'd be an endless game of waiting.

Had it been mere minutes since you left, he couldn't care less. You were still mad. He, himself, is still a bit mad, but he could definitely be more at peace brooding while knowing you're safe in the apartment fuming with him, rather than risking anything with the outside world at the moment.

Not wasting any time further, Namjoon reaches for his own coat, shoes, and essentials, adding a black cap and face mask as extra precautionary measures. As one hand seizes the silver door handle, the other swiftly dials your number repeatedly.

Eventually, as he makes his way towards the elevator and the phone goes onto the third attempt, you finally pick up to answer. "Namjoon," you immediately snarl from the other line, "I don't want to talk right now."

He flinches, not at the tone, but at the fact that you called him by his first name—not Joon or Joonie, not baby or jagi. Namjoon—just Namjoon, in a voice so sharp that it could cut glass.

It was then he decidedly makes his conclusion. He was going to end this dispute, possibly get his head pats and cuddles if things go well, and call it a day. And so, with such a mission in mind, he equips his most efficient weapon just as he enters the elevator. "Come on, baby," he says, voice calm and gentle enough to coax, "I know you're angry, but come back now. It's so dark out. You could get hurt."

"Namjoon—"

"Baby, please," he insists, "I'll sleep on the couch tonight if I have to. Just come back home safe."

Though his words bare no lies or ill intent, he knew the effectiveness of the term and the voice paired together. You had always told him how his voice, especially when low and soft, calms you down more than anything else. Sure enough, he hears you let out a sigh. It was laced with the exhaustion and hurt the fight has instilled within the both of you, and it makes his heart clench.

"Joon—"

Nothing.

"(Y/N)?"

His heart drops, instantly looking at his phone—only to see the call end so abruptly before his eyes. His fingers run on autopilot, quickly reaching to contact you once more.

Ring... Ring...

Nothing.

His heart started gunning against his chest. "This isn't funny, (Y/N)," he murmurs, as if he could actually be heard. He presses the number again.

Ring... Ring...

Nothing.

Panic starts to settle in, but he persists. "Three times the charm," he tries to joke, even with a nervous chuckle. He presses the number again. Again.

Ring... Ring...

Nothing.

"Fuck," he hissed, the curse leaving his lips so carelessly as he frantically glanced at the numbers on the elevator going down, down, down. Why the fuck does it seem like it's going down slower?

At the tortuous pace, he was forced to face the thoughts in his head, now screeching at deafening volumes—scorning him for being reckless, calling him heartless for letting things get this far.

It was then he remembered. He had gotten home earlier, at yet another late hour than he used to. His muscles ached from practice. His head throbbed from stress. Upon seeing you there at the dining table, dressed up with his favourite meals laid out forgotten and cold, the weight on Namjoon’s shoulders were quick to finally crush him underneath.

With your own frustrations chaotically entangling with his, it had been so easy for the both of you to get lost in the heated argument. You accused him of cheating, and then, you said he didn’t love you. This was not true, in any shape or form, but it still hurt. Then, he claimed you were a liar for claiming you could handle the stress of dating an idol. That hurt you. For a fraction of a moment, he found it satisfying to break your heart the way you did with him, but Namjoon sees it know that all of it was his fault to begin with and things may have just gotten worse.

No. No, it hasn’t. Namjoon shakes his head, determined to shake away the negative thoughts. I’m sure it's nothing. (Y/N)'s fine.

As soon as there was a chance for him to get out of the elevator, Namjoon instantly bolted out into the streets, chest heaving from both the running and the panic. Just as his hand returns to his phone, an ambulance whirred by—heading towards the playground you frequently go to. Goosebumps littered his skin as his stomach twisted at the thought that seizes his head.

“It can’t be,” he repeatedly mutters under his breath, almost like a prayer. The ambulance means nothing. It’s just passing by. Still, he runs towards the playground.

It was when he reached a crossroad that his heart seems to stop beating altogether. As the ambulance drives away, the surrounding officers try to ease the people and the traffic. He joined the gathering crowd, there murmurings muffled as they reached through his ears as if he’d been underwater all along. Before him was a sight of wreckage and smoke that broke his heart on repeat.

No, no, no. It’s not—

“That poor woman.”

The old ladies next to him whispered amongst themselves in pity for the victim of the crash. With every passing moment, Namjoon found it hard to breath. “I hope she makes it,” her friend follows suit, words not easing Namjoon’s heartache at all.

Namjoon rushes to the other side of the road and hails a taxi as quick as he possibly could, not caring if the driver would have to take the longer route to the hospital. “Please hurry,” he almost begs the driver, scrolling through his phone and anticipating a call from you.

His eyes blur with tears as he sees the last of your messages, his heart wrenching in a mess of guilt and agony.

Pls come back home.

I love you.

By the time the taxi slowly comes to a halt in front of the hospital, Namjoon hurriedly chucks money at the driver, not bothering to get the change back. He rushes to the front desk, startling the nurse in the process but he was too panicked to care. “There was a woman brought in here from a car accident, right?” he asked, earning a meek nod from the woman. “Where is she? How is she doing?”

“Sir, pl—”

Namjoon’s phone came to life, interrupting the nurse and setting his nerves on fire even further. He quickly swipes to answer. “Who is it?” he says, a little snippily as he moves to a quieter section of the hospital lobby.

“Still mad, huh?”

His entire body freezes, as if he was plunged into cold waters, but in such a state he manage to find refreshment the longer he realizes what was unfolding. As his knees buckle, he leans against a nearby wall, ignoring the stares he received from onlookers. A sob escapes him, but it wasn’t laced with the anguish that had conquered him before. It was bursting with relief and gratitude.

“Joonie?”

Your voice filters through from the other line, concerned from hearing his sobs. “What’s wrong, Joon?” you softly asked, “did something happen?”

Words couldn’t find their way out of his mouth, his mind and heart too overwhelmed to even do anything else other than cry out of joy. “Where are you?” he blubbers, barely making sense but you understood nonetheless.

“I came back home,” you simply said, making him cry even more. “Why are you crying, silly?” you ask him, trying chuckle but he, himself, could sense you were about to cry yourself.

Namjoon allowed a breathless chuckle to escape his lips, as he finally gathers the strength to push himself up and leave the dreaded atmosphere in the hospital with a new found determination to make things right.

He’ll come home and lock you in an embrace so tight that you’ll both get cramps, but he wouldn’t care any less and continue nuzzling into you anyways.

He’ll come home and pepper you with so many kisses that you’ll burst into a fit of giggles because the feel of his lips would become ticklish.

He’ll come home and he’ll tell you just how much he loves you, so much that you’ll both know well that what you have between the two of you is worth it.

And he did.

“Joon, stop,” you laughed as he tenderly nestles his face into your neck, long limbs entangling with yours on the sofa. You lean your head back to meet with his eyes, watching them flutter close in bliss as he relishes you brushing your fingers through his hair. “What’s gotten into you, hm?” you softly mutter, half-heartedly but with a tinge of concern. He’s never been like this after fight at all.

At his silence, you continued your ministrations, which helps him greatly. Namjoon lets out a sigh. He doesn’t deserve you, really. “I…” he stammers in hesitation, unsure of how to break it to you. “There was a car accident down the road that leads to the playground,” he began, “I thought you were the one who got hit, so I went to the hospital and—”

“You went to the hospital?” you asked, incredulous with wide eyes.

“The call got cut off and there was a crash!” he said, his voice barely audible, “I thought I lost you…”

Your expression softens further at his vulnerability. Namjoon has always tried his best to hide behind the façade of a strong, responsible leader. To see him like this tugs at your heartstrings. “My phone died,” you told him, gesturing to the device that had been charging at the nearest outlet all this time. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No,” he tells you, “it was my fault to begin with. I should’ve been more lenient and managed my time better. I should’ve been here for you. I should’ve been home.”

He looked into your eyes, brimming with tears of guilt. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You leaned forth, lips pressing a kiss upon the skin of his forehead with reassurance and love. “I’m sorry, too,” you tell him, “I know I hurt you with some of the things I said, too.”

You smiled softly. “You’re here now. I’m here.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, leaning to give you a kiss.

“We’re home.”

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #bts rm #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts rm imagines #bts rm x reader #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon angst #rm imagines #rm x reader

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sproutsgcrden · 3 years ago

Text

when the seafoam floats | chapter one

the entrance exam

summary: Aizawa Michi isn't sure of a lot of things in her life, but she is sure that Midoriya Izuku is going to be a great hero. Following him from Aldera Middle School to Yuuei High only cements that fact, even if he does have a strange new quirk.

author's note: this is a longtime coming! i've been planning Michi's story for over a year now, and i'm so excited to finally be able to share it! keep in mind that this a retelling of canon with an oc-- some things will be different, some things will be the same. i update every monday on ao3.

masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send in an ask and let me know!

art done by emmythetaciturn!

father | sent 06:48

good luck. don’t die. i’ll get you a kit-kat later

loudmouth | sent 07:03

HAVE FUN TODAY MIMI! YOU’RE GONNA ROCK THIS 😎😝👏💪🗣

nem | sent 07:06

You’re going to do amazing today, my little mimichan 💕💕

Missed Call | izukun💚 | 07:49

izukun💚 | sent 07:49

Hey! I’m here! Call me when you’re close? 😊

--------

Michi clicked the call back button, bringing the phone up to her ear as the familiar dial tone rang. The black skirt of her middle school uniform swayed gently in the wind as she continued her trek up the path that led to Yuuei High School. Her seafoam green hair, wavy as it was, was pulled back into her usual half-bun. Even if it was completely down, it would barely reach her shoulders. Her narrowed brown eyes began to search for the familiar green hair of her friend among the throng of middle school students in her way.

A click sound through the phone, and through the static and background noise Michi could make out a meek voice. Her lips formed a small grin, and her pace sped up. If she bumped into anyone, well, she could apologize later.

“Hello? Micchan?”

Michi excused herself past a couple who were walking extremely slow for her tastes, and tightened her bag to her shoulder with her free hand. “Hey Izukun! I’m about to pass the gates, so I’ll probably see you within a minute or two. Where are you at?” The golden gates seemed to dazzle in the sun. The young girl had been here many times with her father, but for some reason the entrance seemed especially intimidating today.

“Oh, I’m on the left side of the walkway, right by a pillar…” Michi could hear Izuku’s hesitance through the phone. “Are uh, are you nervous at all?”

“Nervous? Izukun, of course I’m nervous. This is the biggest entrance exam in the entire country. I doubt my quirk will be useful during the physical- but hey, that’s why we trained, yeah? If anyone can pull this off, it’s us!” Just then, Michi passed through the gate. She saw a glimpse of green hair behind one of the pillars, and changed her direction. “Anyways, I’m right behind you.”

A muffled and surprised screech sounded through her phone’s speaker, causing Michi to look up at the source of the noise. Izuku had turned around so quickly that he tripped, but luckily a nearby girl helped him. After hanging up her phone and putting it in her bag, Michi quickly ran towards the duo before her.

“Are you okay?” The cheerful voice of the brunette standing in front of Izuku carried through the open air. “Sorry for using my quirk on you without asking first! I know that some people may not like that, but I figured it would be better than falling!” The girl helped Izuku stand straight and released her quirk just as Michi caught up to them.

Leaning over, Michi gave Izuku a once over, just to make sure he didn’t actually hit anything before he was caught. When she didn’t see anything wrong, she nodded and turned to the brunette standing beside her. “Thanks for catching him. He can be a little clumsy- nerves aren’t really helping today.”

“Oh, it’s no problem! This whole thing is way nerve-wracking!” The two turned to Izuku, who was too busy staring off into space to be aware of anything around them. “Anyways- my name is Uraraka Ochako! Good luck in the exam!”

Michi bowed respectfully..“Aizawa Michi. And this is Midoriya Izuku. Good luck to you as well.” Uraraka nodded, and walked into the building, brown hair bouncing gracefully. Michi watched her walk inside before she turned her attention to her friend, who was muttering too quietly for her to catch on to what he was saying.

With a huff of amusement, she slapped his shoulder and began to guide him into the building. “Izukun, I know you don’t have much experience with girls, but you could at least try to introduce yourself to the one who saved you from eating the sidewalk.” Michi laughed as Izuku’s face went from shocked to embarrassed.

“Oh gosh, you’re right. I was too busy trying to figure out her quirk to even say anything! Do you think she noticed?” Their shoes scruffed against the paved stairs as they continued their walk, eventually reaching the door and going inside. “I mean, what do you think it was? I think it could be some sort of gravity manipulation based on how I floated- that’s perfect for rescue work! She would be an amazing hero, I really hope she makes it in- is that- Thirteen?!”

Thirteen was stationed at a long table at the end of the entrance hall, clearly meant to be a check-in. They pointed directions for the potential students in front of Izuku and Michi as they handed out pamphlets. Izuku began to shake, from nerves or excitement Michi couldn’t tell. She assumed a mixture of both. It wasn’t everyday you got to meet such influential heroes in person- at least for the normal civilian.

As the duo eventually made their way to the front of the line, Thirteen greeted them enthusiastically. “Welcome to Yuuei, Hero Hopefuls! Can you please give me your school I.D.s so we can get you checked in and ready to go?” Michi and Izuku, of course, already had their identification available. Thirteen quickly took them, and checked the two of them into the system. After handing a freshly printed packet to each of them, along with their I.D.s, Thirteen pointed them down the hall.

“Those packets include the booklets you will use in the written exam, along with information regarding the physical you’ll take after. Your proctor will explain everything in more detail once they’re ready to start the exam. Aizawa-san, you’ll be in room 1-E, right down the hall after taking the first left. Midoriya-san, you’ll be in room 1-G, just a few doors further down. Good luck to the both of you!”

Michi led the way to their respective rooms, clearly having some knowledge on where to go. Izuku followed her lead, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Uh, Micchan?” The girl in question absentmindedly nodded her head, gesturing for Izuku to continue his question. “Well, I was just thinking, isn’t it a bit strange that we haven’t seen Kacchan yet?”

“Why would you want him to see you today of all days?”

“I don’t! I just-” Izuku sighed, causing Michi to pause and pull him to the side of the hall. “If he does see me, I’d rather it be before everything starts? At least it wouldn’t be so embarrassing if he yelled at me in an empty hallway versus a classroom.”

Michi nodded in understanding, waiting a moment before speaking. “I don’t think he’d go too overboard today, Izuku. At least, not on campus? Yuuei is very strict in their policies, so he’d likely be barred from taking the exam if he started screaming at you for nothing.” She gave him a reassuring grin. “And if he did, I’d punch him in the face. Again.”

“Micchan! You can’t just talk about how you punched Kacchan!”

“Why not? The asshole deserved it for what he said. And you know it.”

“I mean, maybe he did. But I’m sure you’ll be barred from taking the exam for talking about how you assaulted another student so openly!”

“Yeah... But I could still make it into general studies, probably. Besides, my old man already knows I cracked open Bakugou’s nose.”

“Micchan!” Izuku’s eyes were wide, but he couldn’t mask the giggles leaving his mouth quite fast enough. Michi smiled in response- a large, open-mouthed smile that rarely came from the normally stoic girl. Once Izuku calmed down, he began to talk once more. “Oh yeah. I forgot you mentioned your dad taught here. I’m still upset you won’t tell me which hero he is.”

Michi huffed, a small ounce of suppressed laughter. “Dad doesn’t like me sharing his hero identity, Izukun. But, to give you a clue…”

Izuku leaned in closely, ready to hear whatever could possibly clue him in on the mysterious hero.

“You have a few pages dedicated to him in one of your notebooks! I think number eleven?”

Green eyes widened comically as Izuku took in the implications of his friend’s words. “You mean I already wrote about your dad and you won’t tell me which hero he is?!”

“I thought it was funny.” Michi shrugged with a small grin. “Plus, like I said, dad doesn’t like people knowing his hero identity.”

“I still- I wrote about your dad and you never said anything!”

“I would’ve corrected you on your analysis had you been wrong, but you actually broke down his abilities quite well! I wanted to take a picture and show it to him, but that would’ve been too on the nose.”

Michi slapped her shell-shocked friend on the shoulder, trying to snap him out of his stupor. “We have a test to take, remember? Let’s focus on that!”

Izuku, getting over his shock and embarrassment, shook his head clear of his thoughts and nodded towards his friend. Michi walked a little further with him to make sure that he made it to the correct room before hurrying to her own. It was time for the exam to get started.

--------

Michi groaned as she tightened the seafoam-colored half bun sitting on top of her head, turning her back quickly to pop it as she made her way towards the large auditorium Snipe had pointed her group in. The written test hadn’t been as difficult as she thought it could’ve been. Thanks to the endless nights she and Izuku spent studying every subject they could get their grubby little hands on, she didn’t have nearly the amount of trouble she expected to have on the math section. It really wasn’t one of her strong suits. Quirk Science and Quirks Laws, however, were a speciality of hers. Her father debated the laws with his coworkers frequently enough for her to pick up on, and Quirk Science definitely helped explain her own quirks’ functions. Sparing a quick glance down to her pamphlet, Michi took the stairs near the entrance to find her seat.

The row her seat was in wasn’t hard to find, but Michi did a double take once she found it. With narrowed eyes, she slammed her bag on the table with a bit more force than necessary. Of course they would sit her near him. She only hoped that Izuku got placed on her side instead of the empty seat on his side.

“Real mature, guard dog.” the grating voice of Bakugou Katsuki sounded from her right. She barely spared him a look of contempt before setting her gaze on the stage below. His ashen blond hair was as explosive as ever, red eyes set in the permanent glare she was used to seeing from him. The sight of his crooked nose was enough to almost make her lose her cool, letting out a short cackle.

“Yeah, as if you know anything about maturity. Want a reminder of how your nose got permanently tilted to the side?”

Bakugou snarled, turning away from Michi to face the stage once more.

It was the first day of their third year, and of course Izuku was the first one assigned to classroom cleanup. Michi offered to stay behind with him, but she ran to the restroom right after class was dismissed. She knew she should’ve waited until Bakugou and his cronies left for the day, a fact she cursed herself for months after the event.

Her shoes tapped against the linoleum floor as she hurried back to their class, knowing the sooner they got the cleaning done, the sooner they could go get some katsudon and celebrate their first day being over. She didn’t expect her vision to turn red in rage the moment she entered the room.

“If you really want to be a hero so bad- maybe you should take a swan dawn off the roof of the building and pray for a quirk in the next life!”

Fingers and the chain smoker had already turned towards the door, eyes widened in fear. Not knowing of the danger that awaited him, Bakugou turned towards the exit with a smug smirk. And that’s when he was met with a sharp crack against his nose. Blood leaked through the torn skin on the bridge, as well as one of his nostrils. He spluttered, hand moving up to catch the blood and cover his nose as his shocked eyes met Michi’s glowing red ones. Her seafoam hair, normally tied back in a half bun, floated towards the ceiling.

“If you ever say anything like that again, I won’t stop at your nose.”

The feeling of someone tapping her left shoulder brought her out of the flashback, and she turned to see Izuku smiling down at her. He set his bag down beside his chair softly, scooting his chair closer to hers as he sat down. His documents were placed on the table in a neat stack. He was about to say something to the girl beside him, when he seemed to realize that Bakugou was only two seats over. Michi knew he’d probably start freaking out, so she turned to face him completely, blocking out his view of Bakugou.

“How do you think you did on the written portion, Izukun?” The lights dimmed before going back to their original brightness, signalling that the presentation was about to begin.

The young boy fiddled with his papers, shaking his head slightly. “I think I did okay? There were a few questions on the beginnings of quirks that I had a bit of trouble with, but other than that it seemed easier than expected?”

“Yeah. Good thing we studied for the math section. I totally would’ve failed if we hadn’t gone over a majority of it.” Michi flicked her eyes towards the stage once more, seeing the silhouette of a man with very large hair walk up to the podium.

Izuku, Michi, and the rest of the participants crowded into the room focused their attention to the newcomer as the lights dimmed. His bright yellow hair, gelled up to the high heavens, was only accented by the artificial lights beaming down on him. Headphones covered his ears, and the collar of his leather jacket did little to hide the speaker connected around the man’s neck. Michi chuckled as she heard her green-haired friend let out a squeak in surprise.

“YOOOOO YUUEI HOPEFULS! HOW ARE WE FEELING TODAY?” The man certainly didn’t need the mic connected to the podium as his voice echoed clearly throughout the entire auditorium.

“That’s Present Mic! His quirk control is absolutely incredible- his rescue stats as well! I listen to his radio show every morning! I can’t believe he’s a teacher here! It’s totally crazy that all the teachers here are pros- guess that’s Yuuei for you!” Izuku was nearly bouncing in his seat, gushing over the Voice Hero with the quietest voice he could possibly muster.

“Will you stop nerding out, freak?”

Michi glared at Bakugou. “You really want me to mess up your nose again, sweaty hands?”

“Micchan! Kacchan!”

The two stopped glaring at each other and turned forwards again, paying attention to Present Mic, much to Izuku’s relief.

“WELCOME TO TODAY’S LIVE SHOW! EVERYBODY SAY HEY!”

If Michi had been paying attention to detail, she would’ve realized that no one in their position would ever reply. Tension and nerves were extremely palpable in the air; everyone was too scared to even say anything at this point in the exam. All except Michi- who was used to the loud, booming calls made by her father’s best friend. So when she replied with a decent-volume, she lifted her head, surprised to see over a thousand faces staring back at her.

Blood immediately rushed to her cheeks as she realized that she was the only one in the entire room to reply to the loudmouthed hero. She felt Izuku’s concerned gaze as she tried to block out the obnoxious sound of Bakugou trying (and failing) to hold in laughter.

“THANK YOU EXAMINEE 8978!” If Michi were any closer, she would be able to see the wink he sent her way, but from the distance she was at, she could barely see his exaggerated movements. “I’M HERE TO PRESENT THE GUIDELINES OF YOUR PRACTICAL! ARE YOU READY?!”

The large screen behind Present Mic lit up, showcasing a map of the ten different battle centers. “THIS IS HOW THE TEST IS GONNA GO, LISTENERS! YOU’LL BE EXPERIENCING TEN MINUTE LONG ‘MOCK CITYSCAPE MANEUVERS’! BRING ALONG WHATEVER YOU WANT! YOU’LL HEAD TO YOUR ASSIGNED LOCATION AFTER THIS PRESENTATION, YA DIG?”

Bakugou shuffled beside Michi, taking a quick glance at the paperwork laid out in front of each of them. “That’s so kids from the same middle school can’t help each other out, yeah?”

“Yeah. It makes sense, too. Especially considering that each consecutive I.D. number is assigned to a different location!”

“Get your eyes off of my paper, nerd!” Izuku shuddered as Bakugou whisper-screamed at him. The ashen blond grunted as he looked away. “I’ll crush all these losers. Fortunately for you, you’ll get to live another day.”

Michi felt a sinister grin form on her face as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Broken. Nose.”

They grew silent once more as Present Mic continued to speak.

“Each site is filled with three kinds of faux villains! Points are awarded for defeating each according to their respective difficulty levels!!! Use your quirks to disable these villains, and earn your points! That’s your goal, listeners!!” There was a short pause before the hero continued. “Of course, playing the antihero and attacking other examinees is prohibited!”

Michi elbowed Bakugou at the reminder, making him scowl at her.

“Excuse me! May I ask a question!”A voice sounded from below, nearly right in front of the stage. A figure was lit up by a stage light: a tall student with dark blue hair and glasses. He didn’t pause to let the hero reply before he continued on with his question. “There appear to be no fewer than four varieties of faux villains on this handout! Such a blatant error, if it is one, is highly unbecoming for Yuuei! Japan’s top academy! We’re all here today in the hopes of being molded into model heroes!”

“And you! With the curly hair!” His finger pointed towards Izuku, making the green haired boy cower behind Michi. “You’ve been muttering this whole time! It’s distracting!! If this is some sort of game to you, then please leave immediately!”

Izuku let out an embarrassed “Sorry,” in reply, making Michi glare down at the kid who singled her friend out. If it wasn’t going to create even more of a scene and cause Izuku to become even more of a nervous wreck, she’d totally give this guy a piece of her mind. Just who did he think he was?!

“Alright! Examinee 7111! Great catch, thank you!” Present Mic increased his volume, trying to lead the attention back to himself. “But the fourth villain variety gets you zero points! He’s more of an obstacle! There’s only one at each site! A gimmick of sorts that’ll rampage around in close quarters.”

“Thank you, sir! I apologize for the interruption!”

The presenting hero nodded, gesturing to the entire room with his hands. “That’s all from me, folks!” He went on to describe a quote from Napoleon, of all people. Michi knew this was the school of schools, but she also knew Mic was being forced to spew the random educational fact to them all. “PLUS ULTRA!!! Break a leg, listeners!”

With that, the main lights turned back on and the other potential students began to shuffle their way to their respective buses. The small shuttles would take them to and from campus to their testing sites. Bakugou, bag already slung across his shoulder and papers in his grasp, sped past Izuku and Michi as soon as the lights turned back on. The two shrugged as they gathered their things and made their way down and out to the buses.

-------

The shuttles, while as large as they could be, were still completely cramped. Michi found herself wishing that the battle centers were closer so that they could just walk to where they needed to be. She wasn’t much of a people person in the first place, even more-so when she was surrounded by random people with no room to herself. Luckily, she was able to grab a window seat near the back. The kid that sat immediately next to her didn’t seem too awful, either.

“Hey! Name’s Sero Hanta!” His deep black hair reached just above his shoulders, and his smile was so obviously genuine. Michi nodded, eyes flickering down to the round shape of his elbows before meeting his own. “This is totally crazy, right?”

“Aizawa Michi.” She sat up a bit straighter to provide more room for the both of them as she nodded. “Tell me about it. Didn’t know we were fighting robots… I’m going to have to be creative.”

Sero lifted his arms to give her a better view of his elbows. “I get ya! My quirk’s called Tape! I produce organic tape from my elbows.” He dropped his arms once she had gotten a good look. “What’s yours?”

“It’s called Erasure.” Michi held up her hands for Sero to see. “If I touch someone with all five fingers, I can erase their quirk. Or, I make them unable to use it? It’s not very effective on those with mutations, however.”

“Oh no shit?” Sero turned to face Michi fully, lifting his elbow to her still raised hand. “Try it on me! I wanna see what happens with my quirk!”

The young girl nodded, and placed her entire hand on the boy’s elbows. Michi felt her hair begin to float upwards, and she could tell by the look on Sero’s face that her normally brown eyes had begun to glow red. “You can move your elbow. I can still have my quirk activated if I let go.”

Sero tilted his arm away from her, moving it back and forth with furrowed brows. He shook his arm a few times, in an attempt to try to use his quirk. “It’s so weird. I know my quirk’s still here, it just feels like I forgot how to use it.” He knocked his knuckles against his elbow. “Yeah, I can’t get anything to come out.”

Michi nodded and deactivated her quirk; the feeling of her hair floating back down to normal tickled the back of her neck. In an instant, tape shot out of Sero’s elbows in a similar fashion to a grenade getting launched. He quickly grabbed the end before it could get far, and retracted it. She sheepishly scratched the back of her neck, turning her gaze to the floor.

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you before I let it go.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it!!” The shuttle came to a stop in front of their battle center, and the two of them stood as they waited their turn to make their way to the gate. “That’s a pretty great quirk though. It sucks that you don’t have a way to use it against the robots.”

Michi shrugged, following Sero as he began to walk through the aisle. “I have a few ideas of what I can do. Either way, if I don’t manage to bag enough villain points, I’m confident I’ll make it into general education. I can just fight my way into the hero course from there.”

The duo had made their way to the gate by the time Michi finished her short speech, and started to stretch while they waited for the countdown to begin. It wasn’t a long wait before a loud buzzer sounded through the area, and as soon as the gates opened up, Michi sprinted her way through it. She barely acknowledged Present Mic’s voice as she surpassed those in her group, heading straight for the nearest one-pointer.

The one-pointers were the smallest of the bunch, and therefore the easiest ones to test her theory on. Logically, these robots had to have a manual shut-off. Michi had no doubt that the exam proctors were controlling these things from a central room somewhere on campus, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t other ways to make sure they were running properly.

Thanking her dad for the parkour lessons, Michi narrowly dodged the robot’s fist before hopping onto it. Using its arm as a leverage point, she swung herself towards its neck. It didn’t take long for her to maneuver herself so she was able to look down at its back. Taking a moment to look around, her eyes lit up as soon as she glanced at a small switch between the neck piece and the back of the robot. Dodging another hit from the bot, she swung herself around once more. Hanging one arm around its neck from the back, Michi was able to stick her hand down far enough to toggle the switch. She heard a small click and immediately did a backflip off the bot and ran to find a new enemy to take on.

The other examinees were beginning to catch up to her, but she did her best to ignore them and keep to the plan she had. Now that she knew for sure that the robots had a toggle for power, Michi felt much more comfortable going after the two and three pointers. She would just have to make sure to dodge their attacks as well as she could. Without any quirk enhancements, taking a hit from one of the bigger bots was sure to at least crack a rib or two.

As Michi kicked off the two-pointer she just eliminated to land on the arm of a nearby three-pointer, she found herself regretful that she hadn’t practiced more with a capture weapon. Her father’s capture scarf, while useful, was extraordinarily complicated to learn how to handle. Even after practicing with a smaller version for about two years now, she still didn’t feel confident in handling it. At least, not confident enough to take it along for the most important exam she would probably ever take.

The three-pointer shut down with a flick of a button, and Michi jumped down to the ground as it collapsed in on itself. The ten-minutes they were allowed were quickly running out, and the examinees had fully taken advantage of every second. The young girl ran down the back alleyways of the mock city in hopes of finding a straggler or two, but it seemed to be in vain. She was sure that there were probably some more targets near the open streets, but quite frankly it was a bloodbath between the others and she really didn’t want any part of it.

Just as she was about to enter another alley, the ground began to rumble. Something big was approaching, and approaching fast. Looking out onto the main road, she spotted the biggest robot she had ever seen in her life. It easily doubled the largest buildings in the area, and the insane amount of weapons situated on its arms made it a terrifying sight to behold. That’s the zero-pointer?

Michi stared at the giant, watching it move closer and closer as other examinees rushed past her to get to safety. No wonder Present Mic said to avoid that thing! There’s no stopping it unless you want to break yourself! Michi set her foot back, hesitantly getting ready to make an escape, before she heard a terrified scream break out in front of her. A kid with strange looking balls on top of his head was cowered underneath a few pieces of rubble. It didn’t seem to be crushing him, but Michi knew sooner or later that the zero-pointer would.

With a sigh, Michi forced herself forward, running towards the other examinee as fast as she could. She came to a stop right beside the boy, eyes flickering between him and the zero-pointer. As she took a closer look, she noticed that similar balls to what he had as hair were wedged in between the wall and the pieces of rubble about to fall on him. She also noticed that his pant leg was caught in between the street and the piece of rubble as well.

“Hey!” The kid met her calm gaze with watery eyes and snot dripping down his nose. She tried not to grimace at the sight. “Those ball things are your quirk, right? Can you get them to unstick? I’d reach around to rip off the part of your pants that are stuck but I can’t reach and we really don’t have the time to mess around here.”

“I- I can’t!!” The kid was pretty much inconsolable. “I made sure they’d be super sticky for the exam today!”

Michi gritted her teeth, looking around for something she could use to help push the heavy rubble away, at least to the point where he was able to get his pant leg out of there. A metal pipe glinted in the alleyway she came from, and she made sure to tell the crying boy that she’d be back soon. Pushing herself up once more, Michi sprinted to the alleyway and bent down to pick up the pipe. A ripping sound came from above her, and she looked up to see Sero grinning down at her with a sweaty face.

“Need help?” Sero dropped down from the roof to stand beside Michi as she stood to face him, gripping the pipe tight between her hands.

“Actually, yeah.” She gestured for him to follow her as she turned to run back to the boy in trouble. “We need to move this rubble so he can move but his quirk got caught up in the mess. So we need to separate this main piece from those balls attached to the wall.”

Sero nodded, taking a furtive glance to the approaching zero-pointer which was only getting closer. Tape from both of his elbows shot out, attaching to the flat side of the rubble. “I’ll pull; you can stick that pipe up at the top and push it my way.”

Michi did as he said, jamming the pipe as far as she could between the wall and the debris. As soon as Sero called out, Michi began to push the pipe. The young girl relied more on her speed than her strength, so she wasn’t very used to dealing with this much weight. Sweat dripped down her face as she pushed harder, finally beginning to see the rubble move in the direction they wanted it to. After a minute or so of this, she felt the trapped boy grab onto her leg and pull himself out of the hole he had essentially dug for himself. Once he was a safe distance away, Sero and Michi both stopped their efforts.

The duo sent small smiles to one another, grateful that they were able to help. Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last that long. Michi, about to ask the other boy if he was okay, suddenly froze as she felt a hand travel up her thigh.

“Oi, what the fuck!” She kicked the boy away from her, which wasn’t hard to do as he was still gripping onto her leg. Sero, who saw what had just occurred, came to stand by Michi’s side. Their glares combined sent the kid into another crying fit.

“I just wanted to say thank you!”

“Yeah, that came across real well when you tried to cop a feel.”

The boy, mouth open and ready to respond with some pathetic excuse, suddenly stopped as a loud sonic boom echoed around them. Almost immediately after, Present Mic’s obnoxious yelling sounded through the area.

“TIME’S UP, LISTENERS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE FRONT GATES!”

--------

The shuttles had taken them back to the main campus rather quickly. Those who had minor injuries were informed to wait for Recovery Girl to come back- apparently somebody had majorly hurt themselves in one of the other battle centers. Michi suspected it had to do with whatever caused that explosion at the very end of the test.

Michi walked through the crowded group of waiting students, searching for a glimpse of familiar green hair. Her brows furrowed as she saw no sight of him, and she pulled out her phone to see if he had texted her. The lock screen lit up, showing a photo of herself and Izuku on their first day of their third year. She was barely smiling, and he was red-faced and sweating buckets. The picture always did make her grin, but when she saw that there weren’t any notifications, she pulled up her messaging app. She was in the midst of typing up something to send to Izukun when she felt a hand land on her shoulder.

“Examinee 8978!” Present Mic stood beside her, shooting her a wink through his orange-tinted glasses. “Someone’s looking for you. Lemme take you to them, ya dig?!”

Michi nodded, following the tall hero as he led the way towards the less crowded hallway. As soon as they were out of earshot from most of the other examinees, Present Mic grinned down at her.

“What?”

“Nothin’. I’m just so proud of you! Saving people already!” The hero wiped a fake tear from under his eye, cackling when Michi groaned. They made another turn, and Michi grew more concerned when she realized they were heading in the direction of Recovery Girl’s office.

The young girl adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “It would’ve been better had that loser not tried to grab my ass.”

“And Mineta Minorou will face consequences for those actions. If I have anything to say about it, he won’t step foot in the school again.” A deep, exhausted voice sounded from in front of them as Eraserhead turned the corner they were approaching. His eyebags were very pronounced today, only seeming more prominent from the shadows his long, unkempt hair cast upon his face.

As Michi and Present Mic walked closer, he stopped them to hand Michi a kit-kat bar and pat her head. “Good job, kid.” All Michi did was nod her head, trying to hide her forming grin.

Of course, the moment was ruined once Mic opened his mouth. “Why can’t you two act like a normal father and daughter for once?! Give her a hug, cry! Show some emotion!”

Both Aizawas felt their eyes twitch, turning towards Mic with matching glares.

“Okay, okay!” Mic began waving his hands and backing up. “I’ll shut up! I gotta go check on the other listeners anyways since this case may take Chiyo a while!” With that, Mic sped away back towards the lobby where a majority of students were still waiting, leaving Michi and Eraserhead alone before the nurse’s office.

Michi blinked, turning to her dad in hopes of hearing an explanation. He sighed, eyes closing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your friend. I thought he was quirkless.”

“He is, though?” Michi crinkled her nose in confusion, “He has the extra toe joint and the special shoes and everything.”

“Then how did he level an entire zero-pointer with one punch?”

“What did you say?!”

All her father did was sigh again, and open the door to Recovery Girl’s office. Immediately, Michi rushed in, ignoring the elder woman’s protests. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Izuku laying on the stretcher with a nervous smile.

“H-Hey, Micchan! How did your test go?”

She was going to kill him.

#sprout's fics #bnha oc #mha oc #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #kayama nemuri #sero hanta #midoriya izuku x oc #bnha fanfic #bnha fics #mha fanfic #mha fics

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scxrsgxrd · 4 years ago

Text

No Good // Willard Russell Part Three

Part one here

Part two here

Hello everyone! I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to update this but, as promised, the next part is here and I hope you all enjoy it! I really appreciate you taking the time to read this and love reading your responses :)

WARNINGS: 18+ mature language, mentions of alcohol, smoking, blood and violence.

Lillian smiled politely when she picked up her Uncle’s prescription from the pharmacist, cramming the small paper bag into her purse and making her way out of the pharmacy, lowering her head as she heard various whistles come from the two men on a smoke break outside the building.

“Well hey there, darlin’.” The man in the white coat drawled out to her, throwing down the butt end of his cigarette while he used his other hand to comb through his dark, greasy hair.

“Hello.” Lil forced a smile, keeping her eyes on the ground as she clutched tightly onto her purse.

The man smirked at her; he seemed to take pleasure in her agitation. He cast a glance to the shorter man behind him, raising his eyebrow which made the short man snicker.

“Name’s Ray, honey. Ray Miller.” He leant closer to Lil, close enough that she could smell the tobacco on his breath mixed with the overwhelming scent of his cologne. He took a hold of her hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a sloppy kiss on the back of Lil’s hands while his eyes landed on her breasts.

Lil recoiled.

“Nice to meet you, Ray.” She wiped her hand on the back of her skirt and was about to carry on walking when he cleared his throat and craned his head toward the building in front of them, Miller’s Pharmacy.

“Oh, lucky you.” Lil didn’t know how she was supposed to react to this ogling man and his painfully over exaggerated bragging.

“I see we’ve had your custom, how much were the pills?” Ray nodded to the small bag poking out of Lil’s purse, and looked as though he was about to snatch it from her before she took a step away.

“That is none of your business, sir.” Lil gritted her teeth, her act of defiance made Ray frown, but nevertheless he took another step closer to Lil and lowered his voice. He was slightly taller than her, so he peered down at Lil, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke.

“Listen, honey. You ever need a discount on your bill, you ask for me, m’kay? I have a few other.. methods of payment that could be suitable for a pretty little girl like you.” Ray’s eyes raked up and down Lil, his head craning slightly to get a glimpse of the back of her skirt.

Lil didn’t respond. She wasn’t going to give that perverted son of a bitch the satisfaction. And besides, her Aunt Barb would give her niece hell if she found out she made a scene with the heir to Miller’s pharmacy. Instead, Lil began to walk away. She lowered her head when she heard the loud whistle come from Ray, and took a few deep breaths as she made her way along the dusty old road back to Al’s bar.

Willard had just finished his day’s shift at the slaughterhouse, the acrid stench of death was still clinging to his nostrils as he lit a cigarette while leaning against the wall outside of the slaughterhouse, gazing at the town busybodies hurrying from shop to shop. Then he caught sight of Ray Miller.

Sleazy motherfucker.

Ray was in prime position outside the pharmacy in his glowing white coat, his dark hair slicked back as he jeered at unsuspecting women passing by. Ray was practically asking for someone to land a few blows in his snivelling little face, and Willard wanted to be first in the queue for when that day eventually came.

Willard perked up slightly when he noticed the girl from the bar exit the pharmacy, only to be leapt on by Ray. Willard’s jaw involuntarily tightened when he saw the son of a bitch press his lips against the girl’s ear and whisper something. The look on the Lil’s face told Willard exactly what Ray was muttering to her.

So Willard waited. He waited until the girl had left the vicinity of the town and threw his cigarette butt onto the floor, pressing his foot over it as he made his way over to Miller’s pharmacy.

“My god, Willard Russell.” Ray held his arms out as though he were offering Willard some kind of friendly embrace, but quickly reverted back to his original standing position when he saw the look on Willard’s face. Ray tried to buff his chest out slightly, taking a deep breath as he stood as tall as he could, and opened his mouth once again.

“Such a shame about that pretty little wife of yours, it was always a delight seeing her pass by-”

Willard grabbed onto the collar of Ray’s coat, leaving crimson stains on the polished white material from the blood still on his hands from his shift. Ray’s nose crinkled when he noticed the crimson smear.

“You listen here, you greasy little shit,” Willard snarled, shoving Ray against the wall as he tightened his grip on the coat.

“You don’t bother that girl again. Or any other girl for that matter, if you do then I’ll make you fuckin’ regret it.” Droplets of Willard saliva sprayed onto Ray’s face as, for the first time in his life, he was trembling like a terrified puppy.

All Ray could manage was a meek little nod. Willard growled as he let go of the coat, staring at the shorter man for a few seconds longer before he began to walk away, quickly. He knew if he stayed any longer his temper would once again get the better of him, and he needed a damn good drink.

Lil was mopping down the bar with a stained old rag when she heard it. That laugh. She knew she should keep her gaze firmly on the puddle of beer soaking into her rag, but her eyes began to flicker upwards toward the man who had just waltzed into the bar, his obnoxious bellowing drowning out the guffaws of the other drinkers.

Ray.

At that exact moment his gaze caught hers, and he staggered his way over the bar. Even before he reached her Lil could smell the liquor on his breath, the leering smile he had on his lips earlier in the day had only seemed to grow.

“How much?” Lil could barely make out what he was saying as he threw himself onto the nearest bar stool, his elbow knocking an empty beer bottle onto the floor with a crash, which only Lil seemed to pay attention to.

“You’ve had enough.” Her tone was assertive, she made sure of it. Lil wasn’t going to let him intimidate her again.

He snorted and shoved his hand into the back pocket of his slacks, producing his bulging wallet as he slammed it onto the bar.

“Not for a drink.” His teeth began to poke out from behind his lips.

“For you.”

Lil stared at the man, who seemed to take her aghast silence as an incentive. He opened his wallet and slid a $20 bill towards her, his eyebrow raising as he gazed between the money and Lil.

“Get out of this fuckin’ bar, right fuckin’ now.” Lil made sure to keep her voice low, she was aware of her Aunt chatting away to a couple of men at the nearby booth.

“Mm, I can be more generous than that sweetie pie.” Ray threw a second $20 bill at Lil, his eyes glimmering as it landed at her feet.

“Pick it up.” He drawled, licking his lips as he sat further back on the stool.

Lil folded her arms and bit down on the inside of her lip.

“Bend that pretty little ass over and pick the fuckin’ money up.” Ray slammed his fists down on the bar and raised his voice enough for the whole bar to quieten and look in Lil’s direction.

“Oh, Ray. Here, I’ll sort that out for you honey.” Barb quickly bustled over and bent down to pick up the bill, holding it out to Ray with a smile, which only made him snarl once again.

“I didn’t fuckin’ ask you. I asked the pretty little whore with the red lipstick.” Ray leant over the bar and grabbed Lil by the chin, his thumbs digging harshly into her skin as she tried to shake him off.

Then, as if out of nowhere, a large hand landed on Ray’s shoulder and hauled him off the bar stool, the other fist connecting with his face as Barb let out an almighty shriek.

Willard was sat in his usual place at Al’s, the booth at the farthest end of the bar, away from everyone else where he could enjoy his beer in a somewhat sense of peace. He wrapped his lips around the rim of the bottle and tipped his head back slightly, a small sigh leaving him as he felt the lukewarm liquid trickle down his throat.

Willard didn’t normally pay attention to his surroundings, he was never one to be interested in the ramblings of people around him. He had enough rambling to listen to inside his own head. He had just finished his beer and was about to lift himself off his seat when an unpleasant, almost roaring sound filled the bar.

Just what I fuckin’ need.

Willard pinched the space between his eyebrows, he couldn’t even enjoy a drink without that grimy bastard interrupting. His eyes followed Ray over to the bar, where he made a beeline for Barb’s niece and rummaged around in his back pocket before lifting out his wallet, the dollar bills crammed inside it almost floating down onto the piss-stained floor.

Willard took a deep breath, he knew what was about to happen. The same thing that happened every time Ray got himself shitfaced after his payday.

Don’t do it, Willard. This ain’t your fight. He began to repeat over and over in his head.

It was almost like Willard had some kind of out of body experience. He flew up out of his seat and barrelled over to Ray, landing his hand on Ray’s shoulder as he dragged him up.

Ray was much smaller than Willard, and his alcohol consumption had made his legs useless. He slumped to the ground as Willard landed his first blow, and a dull, guttural growl left Willard. He grabbed onto Ray’s shirt and pinned him against the bar, his teeth clenched as droplets of sweat formed on his chest and forehead.

“What’d I fuckin tell you? Huh?” Willard didn't care that Ray couldn’t hear him as he had lost consciousness, he clenched his fist once more and raised his arm.

It took four men to lift Willard off of Ray, but Willard didn’t come quietly. He thrashed and flailed, screaming various insults as he kicked his legs out and tried to grab onto whatever he could to help him free himself.

The only thing that made Willard pause was the look on Lil’s face. Her features were contorted with pure horror as she clasped a hand over her mouth and let out a sob, her eyes widening with pure fear as she saw the man who had become almost animal-like in front of her.

“You, You.” Barb screeched at Willard, shoving at his chest as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

“You ain’t welcome in this town anymore, let alone my damned bar.” She moved forward to push Willard again, but Al grabbed onto her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace, his tired eyes signalling for Willard to leave the bar.

Willard tripped down the steps out of the bar, a searing pain in his knuckles beginning to manifest as the haze he found himself in a few minutes earlier began to subside. He stumbled slightly as he saw himself hunched above Ray, blood trickling from the man’s nose as he sank into the bar. Then, he saw the look on Lil’s face. The smudged mascara running down her cheeks as more tears formed in her eyes, she should never have seen what she saw.

Willard knew he only had one choice left. He needed to pray.

He ran a hand through his hair, the sweat on his forehead had made a few strands stick, and his chest was still heaving.

“Willard? Willard?” He didn’t hear the voice behind him as he began to slowly trudge away from the still silent bar.

“Mr. Russell.” A hand latched onto his.

The notion made Willard flinch, and he turned his head to see Lil stood behind him. She took a few steps backwards when she realised he had his attention. From the faint glimmer of the moonlight Willard could see the tear stains on her cheeks, and her lipstick was smudged across her chin.

He shook his head as was about to continue on walking when she grabbed onto his hand once again, tighter this time.

“Let go of me, girl. I ain’t no good to you, and now you know why.” His voice cracked slightly and his eyes began to well up.

“Let me help you.” Her tone was genuine and her eyes softened slightly as she stepped towards him.

Willard felt something inside him click, as if the inner torment just.. ceased for a minute or two. Lil gave him a small smile and nodded her head, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

And, at that very moment, Willard kissed Lil for the first time.

Tags: @roman-cek @lucifer-reads @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @illskillsgard @walkxthexmoon @jj-lynn21 @llama--mama @erzsebet1614 @ispeaksarcasm14 @skarsgard-daydreams @skrsgardspam @theskarsgardcult @dreamtherapy

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#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #the devil all the time #willard russell

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